Page 224 of Masters of Control

Morgan looked around as everyone frowned at Amy. She wasn’t sure why they were all frowning, but clearly something was wrong.

“Has he said anything that crosses the line from concern to being a judgmental prick?” Marissa asked, far more gently than Carolyn likely would have.

“No, no, I mean, not really. It’s fine. He’s concerned, and the stress of wedding planning is getting to him.”

“What is he doing for the planning?” Morgan asked, interested. She was curious how Amy and Jeremy’s wedding would be different from Cyrus and Anna’s.

Amy’s mouth opened.

Closed.

“Um.”

“Well, I’m sure just the stress in general of knowing how much needs to be done for the wedding is getting to him,” Noelle said quickly, shooting Morgan a dirty look.

Oops. Somehow, she’d made things awkward and uncomfortable even though she didn’t mean to.

“Sorry,” she said immediately, even though she didn’t know exactly what she’d done wrong or why it was okay for Carolyn to call Jeremy a judgmental prick, but it wasn’t okay to ask what he was doing for the wedding planning. “I was curious what you’re doing for the wedding because Cyrus and Anna’s was my first, and I wondered what might be different. I want to be a good bridesmaid.”

“Well, we’re looking at locations right now, and that’ll help us decide on catering and things like that. We do have the guest list. Jeremy’s mom got theirs to me yesterday, which was great because that’s helping us decide on the location.” Amy smiled, looking a little more relaxed now that the topic had shifted away from Jeremy to the actual wedding planning.

Morgan relaxed, too. She’d done the right thing.

“And I’m planning on going dress shopping next month, regardless of where my weight is, so I can at least get an idea of what I want. Plus, we need to pick out the bridesmaid dresses.”

“Isn’t that kind of early?” Morgan asked, surprised.

“Yeah, but they have to make the dresses, then sometimes they need alterations,” Sam explained. “Well, for some dresses. Sometimes, you can get things right off the rack, but not always.”

“I want you to each be able to choose a style you love.” Amy beamed at them. “I want them to be floor length and sage green, but you can get whatever style you want that fits that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Marissa said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “And thank you. I prefer that kind of set up. Not too many dress styles look good on every body type, and we’re all very different.”

That was a good point. Morgan liked the idea of being able to pick out her own dress, too. Certain fabrics really bothered her to wear, though she would have found a way to tolerate it for Amy’s sake. Picking out her own should keep it from being a problem.

Before anyone could say anything, the front door opened, and Brian walked in. His eyes widened as he looked around at all the women in his home, then he grinned.

“Hello, ladies,” he said, giving them all a nod. “Welcome home, Morgan.” He waved at her before setting his keys on the table.

“Hi, Brian,” they all chorused together, then started giggling.

Suddenly, Morgan was very glad all her friends were there because seeing Brian, a well of anger rose up inside her. Had he known that Asad had been told not to have sex with her last week? Had he been one of the people to make that decision for her?

It didn’t seem impossible, considering he lived with her. Yes, she was here to help with the mortgage payments on the house—he needed the rent she gave him—but she knew the other Doms also considered him her protector. They asked him before scening with her, and they checked in with him after, asking her how she was doing, to see what he said as well. And he was constantly monitoring her.

Sometimes, Daddy Dom Brian acted an awful lot like a dad. Not her dad, of course, because her dad would never have given her the kind of freedom Brian did, but Sam had pointed out that he had kind of inserted himself into a ‘father figure’ slot, even though he was only a few years older than her. At the time, Morgan hadn’t minded because she’d needed someone to cling to, someone to help her stand on her own two feet.

Now, though, she had to clench her jaw against demanding to know if he’d been a part of the decision to cock block her and Asad.

This wasn’t the time, though. Not with her friends there.

“Hi,” she managed to say, though she didn’t think she did as good a job hiding her emotions as she’d hoped because the word came out a little choked, and everyone looked at her. A hot blush rose up in her cheeks, and she rocked on her seat, reigniting the sting from the welts Asad had left, which helped settle some of the turmoil inside her.

It wasn’t just the pain; it was also the reminder of him.

She realized, it didn’t matter what Brian and the other Doms wanted—she and Asad had done what they wanted. Some of the anger she’d felt fled in the face of her satisfaction.

She felt… rebellious.