Waking up in Murphy's arms is always a good way to start the day.
He's busy placing kisses all over my face before I even open my eyes.
And when I do he grins at me, gently stroking his thumb over my top lip which is only slightly sore today. "Feeling any better, girlie?"
I blink a few times to clear my bleary eyes and…yes, he's definitely naked. A whole lot of smooth, hot Murphy is pressed up against me.
"Getting there," I croak, covering my face to block out the soft morning light.
I feel him walking his fingertips down my chest and along my stomach. Dare I peek?
I do, just in time to see him unbutton my pants and slide down the zipper. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.
He tugs my pants down my legs and I kick them off, maybe a bit too frantically if his laughter is any indication.
I'm already holding my breath as he flops down on his stomach between my legs and spreads my thighs with his hands, brushing his knuckles over my underwear. As he lowers his head to place a kiss in the same spot, I choke on nothing in particular besides my own spit.
He meets my eyes and his smile is positively wicked.
"Murphy," I say, unsure if it's a question or a warning.
"Nicky," he purrs and it's clearly neither.
I can feel his warm breath through the thin cotton and it makes me squirm. He reaches for the waistband, rolling it down slowly, and just then I catch some sort of movement out of the corner of my eye.
It's Connor, rolling over in his sleep and burying his face in his pillow. How could I have forgotten him?
I gasp and shove against Murphy's shoulders with my feet.
"Get up!" I hiss. "He's right there!"
But he doesn't move except to pin my feet to the mattress with his hands. "He's asleep, girlie. Just relax and let me do this for you."
"Murphy," I repeat and this time it's definitely a warning.
"Please?"
Oh God.
His eyes are burning bright. He already knows he has me.
I don't stop him when he peels off my underwear and tosses them over his shoulder. They land somewhere in the pile of dirty clothes that passes for their closet and I'm almost positive I'll never see them again.
Oh well. I never liked that pair much anyways.
He trails his fingertips down the insides of my thighs, his eyes raking over me with such intensity that it makes me blush. I squirm, trying to close my legs, but he's not having it.
He holds them open, watching my face intently as he teases me with one long finger. I make a pretty embarrassing sound, sort of a choked moan, and it seems to please him.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, so close I can feel his breath against my heated skin.
A self-deprecating joke is on the tip of my tongue but it's quickly forgotten as Murphy puts his to work. And what a talented tongue it is. I have to slap my hand over my mouth to muffle the shriek that threatens to erupt from it.
"Murphy," I gasp and this time it's a prayer. "Murphy, Murphy, Murphy, Murphy."
He hums against me and I grab for his hair, my back arching. I'm trying to stay quiet but he's making it so damn difficult.
And when a second finger joins the party, it becomes impossible.
My hips jump up off the mattress and I let out a strangled whimper. He pins me down with his free hand but he's picking up speed, his eyes dark with something that sends a delicious shiver down my spine. I'm pretty sure the only word to describe what he's doing to me would be "devouring".
I find myself biting down on my fist, fighting to stay quiet.
But I'm so close. I can feel it building and I chase after it, bucking my hips against his prodding fingers.
I'm already squirming, toes curling, the whole nine yards when I feel another set of eyes on me.
Hooded eyes that belong to Connor, now wide awake and propped up on his elbow to watch us.
Well, I guess there's no point in staying quiet anymore. I cry out, my fingers tightening in Murphy's hair. He's relentless but suddenly I'm unable to tear my eyes away from Connor.
Half-crazed, I reach for him. He grabs my trembling hand and then he's cradling my face, kissing me deeply.
It's a sloppy kiss since whatever Murphy is doing to me has me trembling and panting, but I see stars when Connor thrusts his tongue into my mouth. He groans against my lips, fingers tightening on my face.
I break away from him, gasping for air as I tumble over the edge and his eyes lock with mine. He rides it out with me and never looks away.
When I slump back onto the mattress, limp and breathless, Connor is still touching my face. For a long time, our breathing is the only sound in the room.
Unsurprisingly, it's Murphy who breaks the silence by clearing his throat. "Stealing my glory, aye?"
Connor ignores him. His eyes are still fixated on mine and I'm the first to look away, overwhelmed by what I see there. I meet Murphy's instead and see him smiling up at me as he rests his chin on my stomach.
I'm suddenly very, very aware of the fact that they're both watching me, both turned on, and I'm lying here in front of them, half-naked. It's a strange, powerful feeling to say the least. I can't wait to find out how I'll ruin it this time.
Murphy kisses my hipbone, tracing absentminded circles on my skin with his fingertips as he murmurs something I can't understand to Connor.
"She's good and worn out, Murph. Give her some time, aye?" Connor tells him, rubbing his thumb slowly back and forth over my still-tingling lips.
I want him to kiss me again, the same way he just did. I want to tell him "I don't need time" or "let's do this now" or "please, Connor, please". Those are the only words bouncing around in my skull but I just can't get them out.
And just like that, they're both gone. Murphy wanders over to the shower and Connor announces that he's going out for cigarettes.
And as for me, as soon as I feel confident that my wobbly legs will support my weight I duck under the cold water with Murphy to return the favor.
We're inseparable for the rest of the day. Even when I head home they follow me like two scruffy stray dogs, perching on my kitchen counter and begging me to cook spaghetti for them.
"Why spaghetti?" I ask, exasperated, as I rifle through my sparsely stocked cabinets. "I don't think I have any noodles."
"It's Murph's favorite," Connor tells me and I shoot him a look of disbelief over my shoulder. "And I think it's the least you can do to repay him."
Murphy snorts and I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from telling Connor that I already repaid that particular act of kindness.
Speaking of which, just thinking about it still makes me shiver – feeling his fingers caught up in my hair, looking up into those pale blue eyes and watching his face as he moaned my name. Oh God.
"Okay," I say a bit shrilly, slamming the cabinet door and fanning myself frantically with my hand. "Do you really want spaghetti? I mean, is it essential right now?"
Connor, watching my face intently, cocks his head to the side. "I wouldn't say essential, lass. We're willing to consider other...options."
"And if I don't know how to make those options?" I ask hesitantly. "Will you help me? I'm new to this kind of...cooking and it's a little scary."
Connor nods, his voice softer, "Aye. We'll take it slow, lass."
Murphy looks back and forth between us, me with my chest heaving and Connor with a smile that's steadily growing.
"We're not talking about spaghetti anymore, are we?"