I was zipping up the bag with my clothes in it as Murphy wandered around my tiny apartment taking it all in. I pulled on a pair of cotton pajama pants over Connor's shorts, wondering how men could wear boxers all the time, it felt like I was wearing two pairs of pants. Emerging from my bedroom, I saw Murphy eyeing an endtable on which I had a couple of knick-knacky things friends had brought me back from vacations and whatnot. "Whatcha lookin' at?" I asked, a laugh in my voice and he pulled back like something had burned him.

"Nothin'," he replied, quickly. "Just lookin'. Your place is…" he gave the room a once over, deciding on his wording, "cute."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I'm gonna do you a favor and assume that wasn't meant to be an insult."

"It wasn't," he said, absently touching my bookcase with a finger. "It's just, kinda cute."

I smiled, shaking my head. "Thanks," I said, "you know you two could come over here sometime."

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "Home court advantage."

I laughed, handing him the bag. "Here, this should keep me clothed for a while anyway."

Hefting the bag in one hand, testing the weight, he agreed then dropped the bag to the floor and stepped to me. He leaned his face into mine, his lips meeting my own. Just a kiss, not demanding, his hands never leaving my face. His tongue tracing the contours of my mouth. My hands went to his waist, lifting his shirt slightly, needing to feel his skin under my fingers. It seemed like hours later when he broke away. Both of us breathing heavy, our foreheads together, "Wanted to do that since last night," he said out of breath.

I smiled, "I always like it when you do that."

He stepped back away from me, grabbing the bag. "See you Thursday, then?" he said heading for the door.

I stood, semi-shocked for a second, "You're just gonna get me all warm and sticky then take off?"

He paused. Dropping the bag by the door and turned to me. In two long, fast strides, his hands were on my hips, lifting me to hook my legs around his waist, his mouth on mine, his hands under my shirt, roaming over my back. I sighed into his mouth. Two more steps and I was on my back on my couch, Murphy on top of me, my hands clenched in his hair. Reaching up, he took hold of both of my hands and crossed them over my chest between us. He ground his hips into me, and I moaned miserably, just as he stood up. "Yup," he replied, heading for the door again.

I watched him. "You suck, Murphy MacManus," I said, my eyes narrowed. "You, tease."

He grinned at me, like a kid with a secret. "See you Thursday." Then he was gone.

I should have seen this coming, I thought to myself as I lay there, trying to gauge the reliability of my legs. Murphy loved to do this. He would get me all hot and bothered, then take off, guaranteeing that instead of basking all week in the joy of whatever Connor and I had gotten up to, I would be consumed with unrequited lust directed at Murphy. Also guaranteeing that when I got him alone again, I would be so ready that he'll be able to torture me with the promise of pleasure. The bastard.

I sighed, finally getting to my feet and heading for the shower. Eventually, these boys were going to kill me…but, damn, what a way to go.