Page 137 of Savage Promises
I lock the door behind us and just stand there for a second. Watching my wife move through our home like this place was built around us. It’s adapted to us and not the other way around.
She hired an interior designer named Jolie Leitner who worked on The Sterling. While I often referred to them as the she-wolves when they’d get together, they’ve made his loft utterly stunning.
Seeing I haven’t moved past the open kitchen, Lennox immediately pads back in my direction. Raising an eyebrow at me, she purrs, “You up for a shower? Clear your head after today?”
Clear your head: Our code word for hot, dirty sex.
I pull her in for a kiss. “Hell yes, I’m up for it.” Mycock is alwaysupfor her.
I plan to spend the rest of this sticky August day exactly where I belong. Pressed against her skin, under a cool spray, then hours tangled in sheets, reminding her that every part of her is mine. Especially the life growing inside her.
My future.Ourfuture. And the future of Quinlan Empire’s pure Irish legacy.
Her kisses soothe every ache in my body. Mostly my heart.
“That feels so good,” I say, giving in to my wife’s touch. It’s days like today that I thank God, I have her in my life.
And I pity Connor who had to go home alone after such an emotional day that centered around love and family.
When my phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, vibrating against the quartz stone surface with a persistent rattle, my anger goes nuclear. One damn day off. One night. That’s all I fucking ask.
“It’s Rhys,” Lennox says, handing it to me. “That means it’s important.”
“You fucking understand me better than any woman ever could.” I pull her down for another kiss.
“I tried to tell you that almost seven years ago, sonny,” she says wryly, using that secret nickname sparingly, but effectively.
“I’ll never doubt you again, Lenny.” I narrow my eyes on her.
“Brat.” She shuffles toward the bathroom. “I’m taking that shower.”
“Hold on, Rhys,” I say before the call doesn’t go to voicemail and he starts leaving me a ten-minute message. “Stay in there, lioness, Iwillbe joining you.”
“Good.” She shakes that ass I love to feel against mycock in the middle of the night. Her belly will be nice and swollen with my child soon, sparking a feral beast within me.
“What?” I bark at my cousin.
“We’ve got a problem,” Rhys says without preamble. “I’m with Trace.”
My heart lands in my stomach getting a call from both my enforcer and his top assassin. “Trace, what...what’s going on?”
“I’m letting Rhys talk,” he says. “But I’m here to help make a decision.”
My body goes rigid with worry. I slowly lower into a club chair, my legs suddenly feeling weak. “Lennox!” I call out to my wife.
If this is bad news, I need her. She’s my rock. My lifeblood.
“What?” she peeks around the corner.
“Please, just come here, baby. Hold my hand.”
Her face pales seeing me on the phone, knowing I’ve either gotten or am about to get bad news. As a dutiful mob wife, she sits at my feet and cradles my hand, resting her cheek on my knuckles.
“One of you fucking brats talk,” I bark into the phone. “Did something happen to Griffin?”
The legacy of Quinlan Empire dawns on me for the first time. What would happen if someone took Griffin out? By order of our birth, Connor would assume the role of Don. Or would Ewan step in? I’m the fucking youngest. Heck, they might hand it to Sabine before me.
“No. Griffin is fine,” Rhys answers. “It’s Connor.”
