Chapter Nine
Sable usually woke with a start, sometimes sitting bolt upright in bed and 110 percent awake. It was kind of awful but she’d gotten used to it since she’d been waking that way since college. Now though she was in between sleep and waking and she felt like she was snuggled in a cloud.
If a cloud was firm and warm and smelled like men’s body wash and the slight echo of sweat, that was. That would be an awesome cloud. Ten of ten would snuggle again.
She nuzzled her face into the cloud, stretched out her legs and an arm. It took her body another minute to fully rouse but when it did—
Oh, shit. She’d fallen asleep on someone. Someone not Hudson and she tried to play back the events of the evening to figure out who it might be, except it was more expedient to open her eyes. When she did, it was to see red velvet pants.
Which made her suck in a breath and scramble backward, her hips hitting the arm of the couch.
Jethro gazed back at her, a cautious expression on his face as he looked her over. Not in a creepy way but in a was-she-okay way.
“I am so, so sorry. That was— I didn’t mean to— Please don’t—”
He cocked a brow at her word vomit and she wanted to take it all back but she couldn’t seem to gather the pieces of herself. She’d been shattered and she wouldn’t be able to glue all the shards back together here, the one place she allowed herself to be a hot mess.
“I have to go home,” she announced and stood. And could she do that and not make a mess out of it? No.
She swayed, her head spinning, and she might’ve fallen if Jethro hadn’t jumped to his feet and steadied her with a hand at her elbow. Great. Was she never going to be able to do anything without his support and magnanimity? Ugh, gross. She was a strong, independent and pretty fucking wealthy woman, she didn’t need a man.
Not even one as handsome and well-built at Jethro Del Bosque.
“Whoa, there. You can go home as soon as you take a second to make sure you’re steady on your feet. Probably a good idea to have a glass of water too.”
“You’re not in charge of me,” she snapped, yanking her arm away and feeling very lost and overwhelmed all of a sudden, like she’d been tossed from a boat in stormy seas and was fighting to stay above the waves.
“Damn right I’m not,” he fairly growled as he took a step toward her. “If I were in charge of you, I’d order you to sit on the couch until I came back with a glass of water and you’d sit on my lap while I held the cup for you to drink out of. Then I’d make sure you were well enough to leave. And you wouldn’t be going home alone after the night you’ve had. You’d be coming home with me so I could look after you properly and so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy pacing my house thinking about whether you were safe or you needed me and I wasn’t there.”
Fuck.
What he’d said and how he’d said it made her knees weak—though not in a fainting way, thank god—made her breasts tingle and her nipples gather into hard points, sent a warm flush to her belly and lower.
Would he actually worry about her after she’d gone home tonight? That would be ridiculous. She was a grown-ass woman, and yeah, she enjoyed submitting and being petted and cared for, but that was like, an occasional thing. Not something she’d want or even put up with from a partner.
Jethro could take this overprotective, overbearing act—sexy as it was—and shove it. She needed another man telling her what to do tonight like a fish needed a bicycle. Fuck that. And fuck him.
Except when she thought about being pinned underneath Jethro while he held her wrists above her head and rutted into her, it wasn’t anger that she felt. No, it was an annoyingly intense pulse of her pussy that said she’d be breaking out one of her favorite toys when she got home to get rid of this desperation.
“Well, since that’s not happening, I’m out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow. And don’t you dare say a fucking word or I’ll kill you.”
That goddamn brow of his arched again, and along with a lift of the corner of his mouth, she felt like he was laughing at her. He wouldn’t laugh long if he messed with her, that was for sure.
“I promised you have nothing to worry about from me and no matter what kind of tantrum you throw that will be true. I’d just ask that you return the favor. Don’t forget to let Hudson know you’re leaving.”
Sable hated him for being patient and kind, for letting her sleep on him, and for being the kind of top whose dominance lanced straight through her core. Couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, wanting. So she turned on her heel and left without thanking him or saying goodbye. No, instead of doing anything that anyone with manners would do, she grabbed her shit and stormed out, ignoring Jethro’s call of “At least let me walk you to your car.”
Lucky for her, she saw Hudson in the big room talking to some people so she gave him a tight smile and a wave. No need to interrupt, no need for him to ask questions, no need for her to talk about this incredibly disconcerting feeling of having left the exact spot she was supposed to be—with Jethro, under his protection and control, and surrounded by his benevolent warmth.
Why would she even think that was a good idea? She hardly knew anything about the man. Then again, she knew hardly anything about “Master” Trent and he was definitelynota good idea, and why should it only be bad ideas that she felt in her gut?
Probably had something to do with pheromones or some other shit that made people act like animals instead of the logical and judicious creatures they pretended to be.
It was freezing cold outside as she stalked out the front door, barely bothering to wave at Ryker—that dude scared the shit out of her—as she left. She hoped the chilled air would calm her mind but all it did was remind her of waking in the comfort of Jethro’s embrace.
Tears welled in her eyes and she didn’t understand why. The thing with Trent really hadn’t been a big deal, her wrist didn’t even smart anymore. Why was she gasping for breath like she’d run a marathon?
She’d text Hudson when she got home to let him know she’d arrived safely and also to ask if he could see her tomorrow. Clearly she needed to work something out of her system and the best way to do that was generally a beating.