Chapter Seven
Jethro hadn’t been kidding about being right back. It was less than a minute before he returned with a bag of frozen peas, a dish towel, and Ian and Hudson trailing behind him.
Trailing was the wrong word. The three men looked like they were on the war path—if she didn’t know why, her heart might have skipped a beat thinking she was in very big trouble. She hated being in trouble.
For the third time today, Jethro knelt in front of her. He made quick work of wrapping the peas in the towel and then took her hand so he could rest her wrist on top of the makeshift cold pack.
After turning it over gently and running his thumb over the underside of her wrist—which made her shiver more than the abrupt cold of the ice—he looked up at her.
“It’s not feeling any worse, is it? Not broken or sprained?”
She shook her head, feeling embarrassed by all the attention. It wasn’t necessary and she was being a baby by being upset about this. It wasn’t a big deal. She dealt with jerks all the time. Men who thought they were smarter than her, who tried to intimidate her, who thought that because she wore a skirt and pearls that she wouldn’t slit their throats with her stiletto to make a better deal.
No one made that mistake twice.
But out of the office… No, that wasn’t right. She would’ve fucked that guy up if he’d cat-called her in the street too. It was being here that had made her feel soft and vulnerable. She allowed herself to let her walls down at Hive and now she couldn’t even handle some dickhead who didn’t know fetish club etiquette from his ass.
Sable was mad at him and mad at herself and she started to get angry at the men surrounding her. But that wasn’t fair. They were just trying to help and she was glad Jethro had stepped in when he had. It made her feel better to have him and Ian and Hudson around her. No one would dare approach her right now never mind give her a hard time.
It didn’t hurt either that Jethro was still cradling her hand like she was fragile and precious. She fucking wasn’t, but it felt good right now.
Hudson sat next to her and slung an arm around her shoulder.
“Y’okay, Pocketful?”
She nodded but didn’t look at him. Just kept her gaze glued to where Jethro was running his thumb over the inside of her wrist. It was soothing. As was knowing that if she told him to stop, he’d stop.
“Who was that guy, anyway? I haven’t seen him here before,” Jethro said.
Hudson shook his head. “He’s a member of Savage in Springfield. We have a reciprocity agreement with them for members—”
“Which is going to be revoked as soon as I can get someone on the phone,” Ian growled. “That guy is never coming in here ever again or any other club I have any pull at.”
She didn’t know Ian well but she’d met him before. He was hard to forget with his ginger hair and pretty green eyes. Plus he was kind of intense, and she was glad he was on her side because she didn’t think she’d stand a chance against that glare.
“What do you want to do?” Hudson asked her, and she rolled her lips between her teeth. “Do you want to go home? Stay here for a while? It’s up to you.”
“Um, I think I need a few minutes but then I’m going to go home. It’s been a long day and I think I just blew my endorphin load on that asshole.”
Hudson tugged gently on one of her braids. “You got it. You need anything else? There’s hot cocoa, cookies. I saved you a present, it’s in the back.”
Sable eyed him sideways. “You did?”
“Sure did. Here, let’s go back now and give you some privacy. Unless you want to keep sitting here like queen of the North Pole, of course.”
He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes, gave him an exasperated close-mouthed smile. “Uh, no. The whole goal tonight was to not attract attention.”
The anxiety about being seen, recognized, surged again, but in truth it had probably been a good thing Jethro was here. Not that most of the people at the club wouldn’t have gotten in between a badly behaving top and an unwilling bottom—especially if she’d shouted red, the club safe word—but she had felt more secure with it being Jethro instead of some stranger.
“That’s what I thought. And that’s twenty more for your sass.”
Sable felt her cheeks flush. It was one thing for Jethro to know she came here, it was another for him to have any details. It probably also wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if she hadn’t pictured being turned over Jethro’s lap and those big strong hands coming down hard on her bottom, the calluses rasping over her skin as he stroked her spank-heated backside.
She placed her other hand on the ice pack and in the process brushed fingers with the man in question. It wasn’t even fair that she felt her nipples tighten under her elf outfit. Good thing no one would be able to see her reaction underneath the velvet jacket.
Before she could make a fool out of herself by swooning, she stood and so did Jethro and Hudson.
Ian muttered something about having to make a call to those fucking dilettantes up in Springfield and walked toward the front of the club, cell phone at his ear and hand on his hip. She was glad she wasn’t going to be on the other side of that conversation.