Swimming with Connor

After about a minute, I signaled with my hand that I needed a breath, so up we rose from the water.

As we parted to take a deep breath, I said the first thing that came to my mind.  "Ha!  That was fun!"

"Is it suppose to be any other way?" He asked with a mischievous grin. 

"I don't know.  Connor, why did you keep your eyes open when you kissed me?" I wanted to know.

"Because I wanted to see your reaction to my kisses," he responded. 

And then at the last minute, added a final thought, "and because I don't need to imagine anything or anyone.  You are more than enough to turn me on."

"Oh," I said.  "I always thought I had to close my eyes for kisses.  I didn't know I could keep my eyes open."

"Babe, you can do whatever makes you happy, but next time, keep your eyes open, and keep them on me.  I want to be able to look at you and I want you to see how you are affecting me." 

He cocked his head to one side.  "Ready?"

"Huh?" I asked. 

Before I realized what was happening, he had reclaimed my lips and we both sank back down into the depths. 

Instinctively, my eyes closed, but I forced them open again.  This close to his face, I could not quite focus on anything, so his face was slightly blurred, but I could still see the blue of his eyes. 

I could also see his elated look which quickly turned to passion as he could not remain unaffected for long. 

His hands tangled into my hair, gripping me with intense fervor.  His body pressed into mine. 

I could feel the hardness of his chest, his arms, his thighs.  The heat radiated from him like a furnace raising the temperature of the water around me into a hot spring. 

We were both barely dressed, and the pool was so warm…

It only took a couple of seconds before Connor pulled us back up above the waterline. 

He broke away from me and swam to the other side of the pool. 

I stayed there, treading water and looking at him, wondering if I had done something wrong.  I was about to head over to where he was when he raised up a hand.

"Stay there.  I need a bit of space between us."  He breathed and gave me a rueful smile. 

"Sorry.  I had to take a break from you.  You're too potent for me to handle for too long before I completely go insane."

"Well, you just stay over there on that side so we can talk," I suggested.

"Good idea.  I get too close to you and all thoughts of talk rush out of my head."  He grinned, keeping his distance. 

"So what were we talking about before we got so rudely interrupted by my knucklehead brother?  Oh yeah…being a clown." 

"Yes, you did say you wanted to be a clown so you could hear me laugh."

"Yes, I did say that, and for you Nana, I would do anything," he placed a hand over his heart, "but I don't want you to think I'm that shallow all the time. 

"Being a clown—-that seems to always be my role in life," he snorted.  "If things get too intense—and things always get too damn intense with Corey around—I have to jump in and lighten it up a notch so we don't get into too much trouble."

"I imagine it gets old after awhile." 

"Damn straight," he muttered.  "It gets to the point where I'm afraid to even say what I truly feel because then it makes me look petty or selfish. 

It's ok for Corey to say and do what ever he wants because he's a few minutes older than me so technically, he's my older brother. 

He's always been the assertive one, the leader of the group, and he always says I'm not forceful enough. 

And most times, that's true, but that's because I choose my battles.  I don't try to win everything, only what's important to me. 

But when I do step up to fight for what I want, I always end up looking like the bad guy."

"You don't look like the bad guy to me.  And you are not shallow at all."  I swam closer to him.

"You've never made me feel as if I was shallow, or less than what I really am.  I think that's why I was always so attracted to you," he cleared his throat. 

"Within the last few weeks, though, I can safely say that it is far more than just physical attraction."

"Man," he shook his head and turned away.  "I got it real bad." 

"What do you mean?"

He reached up and tousled his hair.  "When I'm busy doing my job, I don't think much about anything except the job, but give me a few minutes alone and all I do is think about you." 

"And then I go crazy when I think about you and my brother, and how far you two have gone, and I feel as if I'm never going to catch up to you and him, as if I've lost you already." 

He dropped his head into his hands.  "I'm seriously messed up, and I don't know how to get my head back on straight." 

He turned back to face me, his blue eyes intense with emotions.  "You're the only one who can help me." 

I listened to Connor without saying anything.  I just listened. 

And then I remembered the time when he bandaged my hand because he did not want my wound to become infected. 

And when he took care of me during the long arduous journey through the tunnel.  These were not the actions of a shallow petty person. 

I realized that Connor was right.  He did choose his battles, and when it came to doing what needed to be done, he always chose to take care of me first, above anything else.     

"I want to help, but I don't know what to do." I came closer. 

Close enough to touch him.