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“Can you untie me? Please?”
Amazingly, he didn’t argue. In fact, he made quick work of undoing her ankles and wrists, rubbing them gently. When she was free, she quickly sat up, wincing as her ass protested. Where the hell were her skirt and panties?
“Easy now,” he said in a soothing voice. “You’ll get dizzy if you move too quickly.” He placed his hands on her shoulders.
“I’m fine. I need to leave. Now. Where are my clothes?”
She glanced up as Saxon, the club owner stepped up next to Jake. Wow, between the two of them it was testosterone overload in this corner of the room. The dark, enigmatic, slick-looking club owner, and the stoic, serious sheriff. Saxon wore a crisp white shirt and black leather pants while Jake was outfitted more simply in a pair of dress pants and a slightly faded, navy-blue shirt.
Saxon frowned down at her, and she winced.
“I’m so sorry,” she told him in a soft whisper.
He raised one eyebrow. “What for?”
“This . . . I didn’t realize . . . I thought . . .” She took a deep breath. This wasn’t her. But she was rattled tonight. “I thought this was for me.”
Saxon nodded solemnly. “And now you believe it’s not?”
“Well, obviously.” She cleared her throat. Maybe they hadn’t noticed how much she’d hated what’d just happened. “It’s my fault. I thought . . . look, let’s just write this up as a mistake and forget it ever happened, all right? It’s a learning experience.”
“A learning experience?” Saxon asked. “And what did you learn?”
She looked up at Jake, who still had one hand on her shoulder, almost as though he was afraid she’d take off. He seemed content to let Saxon do the talking.
“Well, I learned I prefer to have my clothes on in a roomful of people,” she attempted to lighten the moment. Both men remained quiet. If anything, Saxon’s face grew colder. Shit. Didn’t seem like she could joke her way out of this. She cleared her throat.
“Does she always do this?” Saxon asked Jake.
“She has a bad habit of downplaying things. And of saying she’s fine when she isn’t.”
She didn’t do that, did she? Well, most of the time she was fine. Or is it that you’re usually the one listening to other people’s problems, so you don’t know how to talk about your own?
Well, hell.
“You need to work on that,” Saxon said to Jake.
“I realize that.”
“What do you mean he’ll need to work on that? What has Jake got to do with anything?”
Saxon’s face grew cold. “Your input has not been requested, sub.” He turned to Jake. “She has a lot to learn.”
What did he mean her input wasn’t requested?
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” Jake asked, sounding exasperated.
“Not at all.”
Okay, she was getting really sick of them talking about her like she wasn’t there. She didn’t care if they’d asked for her opinion or not.
“Can someone please hand me my clothes. I want to leave. If you’re finished ignoring me, that is.”
Jake turned so he stood in front of her. “We’re not ignoring you, Molly, but you have to remain quiet until you’re addressed. And, no, you may not have the rest of your clothing.”
She gaped up at him in shock. “I think I want to leave.”
Jake leaned down and grasped her chin, raising her face. “You came here for a reason, Molly.”
