Page 48 of Dublin Beast

I don’t know him well, but I don’t believe he’d leave me alone and in the hands of anyone he didn’t believe would take good care of me. The Quinns are known to be protective of women and innocents.

Sighing, I push back my hesitation, stand, and tug down my stretch pants enough to expose the curve of my left butt cheek. Then I hook my fingers in the waistband of my underwear and pull it down for the shot.

I lean forward over the table, bracing myself. “Just make it quick, okay? Needles aren’t my favorite thing right now.”

And that’s when the door swings open.

I freeze, turning my head to look toward the door.

Bryan is standing in the doorway, his gaze locked directly onto my very exposed ass. His gaze flicks to Fiona, then back to me, one dark brow arching as the corners of his mouth twitch. “Should I come back?”

Fiona, to her credit, just chuckles and gives me the poke. “No. Perfect timing, lad. Give us one second…”

The sting is quick, and then the burn is smothered by a cool wash of antiseptic on a cotton ball as she finishes up. “All done, hon.”

I yank my pants up, straightening so fast the room spins. My face is on fire, my heart hammering as I spin away from him.

Fiona, completely unfazed, chuckles. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, luv. It’s nothing he didn’t see last night when he brought you in.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands.

Kill me now.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Bryan

Harper won’t even look at me.

She was polite enough to thank the nurse when I paid the woman and relieved her, but that’s been the only words out of her mouth since I got back.

She sits on the end cushion of the sofa, her hands wrapped around another steaming cup of tea, her bare feet tucked beneath her. She’s trying to take up as little space as possible. The pink flush on her cheeks hasn’t lessened since I walked in the room—she’s embarrassed.

Can’t say I blame her.

Between rescuing her naked, showering with her, and walking in on her bare ass a moment ago, there’s been no shortage of mortifying moments for her.

I’d be lying if I said she was the only one unnerved.

Harper is edging under the shield of my emotional armor in a way I’m not prepared for. She’s beautiful—in an athletic, tomboy, swinging ponytail kind of way. Not at all like the glowing grace and sweetness of Yasmine.

Not at all.

But from the second I saw her flirting with Mason and his scout, even when she was half out of her mind with drugs in her system, I could tell she has a strength like Yas.

She’s principled, determined, and fearless.

Which makes the way her hazel eyes are darting away from mine and her teeth sinking into that full bottom lip kind of funny.

But none of this is funny—it’s dangerous. Because the more time I spend with her, the more I realize I don’t just want to protect her.

I want tofuckher.

And that’s a problem.

I exhale slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. “So… do you want to talk about it?”

Her grip tightens on the mug. “Talk about what?”

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