Page 39 of Master

“Beautiful. Because you are,” I whisper the translation against her ear. I watch her body language in hopes he doesn’t elicit the same response I did at the hotel. She seems fine, but I feel compelled to make sure. “Are you okay?” She gives a slight smile and quick nod, confirming the word didn’t trigger her.

“I knew you were fucking beautiful the first time we met, but you’re fucking exquisite,” he croons.

Sasha looks up at him, looking confused. “The first time? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Fuck. I beat the piss out of a fucking bloke for you and you don’t even remember me?” he groans, playfully clutching his chest. His eyes hungrily roam down her body. “And here, I definitely remember all of you.”

“For fuck’s sake, Conor,” I slug him on the shoulder. “Please tell me you aren’t wanking off to that.”

“I’m not into necro.” He sounds disgusted. “But I’m pretty sure any mental images from this point forward are fair game.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Conor,” Declan huffs from the island. “Could you find someone to whack off to that one of your brothers isn’t sleeping with or married to? Would a subscription to Hustler help?”

“Probably not,” Conor chirps. “I’ll probably just imagine Ms. March buried between your wife’s sweet thighs.”

Declan looks at me and snarls, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“You aren’t going to kill him,” Quinn tenderly pats his cheek. “At least not until after dinner. I’ve been cooking for the past three hours, and it’s not going to waste because the lot of you have to scrub blood from my kitchen floor.”

“Because you asked so nicely,mo chéadsearc.” Declan drags Quinn between his thighs and places a kiss against her lips. When he manages to pull himself away from her, I introduce them to Sasha.

“I’m sorry I missed out on lunch and shopping the other day,” Quinn apologizes. “Little Rory wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to leave him with a sitter. But short of this one”—she slaps Declan’s chest—“tying me down to knock me up again, I will be there next time.”

Rory walks inside from the patio, and I introduce him to Sasha, “And this is Big Rory.” Her eyes dart between Rory, Quinn, and Declan as an inquisitive expression takes hold of her. I chuckle and answer the question I know is looming in her thoughts. “No. Rory was Quinn’s security. He’s not the twin’s father.”

“He better fucking not be,” Declan hisses, half joking.

“Apparently, when you let the Bratva unload a clip into you and nearly die to protect someone, they name a baby after you.” Rory smirks with a shrug. “And no offense, but I wouldn’t be stupid enough to put my dick anywhere near Quinn.”

“No offense taken.” Quinn winks, gesturing for us all to make our way to the dining room. “I know I’m not your type.”

Glasses clink, and we all dig into dinner; the table clatters with silverware, and the conversation grows loud and boisterous. The banter and jokes are loud and occasionally off-the-cuff, but Sasha slots in like a piece of the puzzle that’s been missing. She jokes with my brothers and laughs with my sisters, and I find myself constantly staring at a smile I have seen far too little of in the time we’ve been together.

My family is a lot. And while they might’ve been too much for other women—like Ella—they seem to be absolutely perfect for Sasha.

After dinner, Sasha slips from the table with Layla and Catlin. I rest my elbows on the island and stare out the window to where the three of them sit on the patio as I roll my near-empty glass of whiskey against the white countertop. Catching my stare, Quinn squeezes my shoulder. “She’s good for you.”

Glancing up at her, I give a smile and nod in agreement.

Quinn leans against the counter beside me and rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m serious, Li. I’ve known you almost my whole life, and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her,” She shares, keeping her voice low.

Sasha turns toward the window and catches me watching her. A sheepish grin spreads across her face, and her naturally rosy cheeks redden. Watching her reaction, I can’t help but smile back at her.

“And then there’s that.” Quinn playfully pinches my cheek. “I’ve never seen you this fucking happy.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

SASHA

ABOUT TWO WEEKS LATER

Curled into the corner of the couch, I read Jane Eyre for probably the fiftieth time in my life. My phone buzzes against my thigh, and I lift it to find a message from Liam, who should be returning from the club any time now.

LIAM

I left a present for you in the playroom.

The playroom?I chuckle to myself. Days after moving my things into Liam’s room, he began renovations. All the feminine touches and dusty rose decor were replaced with black furniture and stainless-steel hooks as he filled the room with furniture more conducive to his tastes.

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