Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T. #1) Page 6

  “Message me when you’re done,” she quips, before pushing me away then turning back to her conversation. I say good-bye to the rest of the table, grab my coat, and then leave. It only takes me a few seconds to find Hetch waiting for me outside the front door. When our eyes connect, I know there’s no going back. The need outweighs the concern. The want overpowers the reasoning.

  Maybe tomorrow I will regret this decision and wish I held on stronger, but tomorrow’s Liberty will be biased. She’ll already know what it feels like to have Hetch between her legs.

  Today’s Liberty doesn’t. Today’s Liberty needs it more than the next breath.

  Five

  Hetch

  Her eyes lock with mine the second she steps outside and my pulse quickens, almost in the same way it does before I’m about to go out on a SWAT call.

  Jesus, what is it with this one?

  “Ready?” she asks, stopping short of an arm's length in front of me.

  “My place or yours?” I answer, reaching forward and pulling her flush to my front. The swell of her breasts press against me,h and it takes everything in this good guy persona not to push her against the wall and bury my face between them.

  “Yours,h” she squeaks. Her earlier confidence seems to have faded¸ but it doesn’t stop me from taking her hand and dragging her out of the pub and over to my car. If I'm desperate or too pushy, she doesn’t say anything, just follows along, her fingers wrapped tightly around mine.

  “I’m not far from here,” I tell her as we walk up to my black pick-up truck. She doesn’t say anything as I open her door. Only giving me a slight grin before climbing up into the cab.

  My dick rejoices for the up-close and personal view of her ass before she plants herself in the seat.

  “Buckle up, babe,” I order, then close the door and walk around to my door. I’m not sure if the kick in my step is from having less alcohol through my body or the fact for the first time in a few months, I’m taking a woman to bed, and I’ll be able to remember it.

  “You always this way?” she asks when I climb in. The click of her belt tells me she followed my request and isn’t going to sass me, but the tone of her question tells me her confidence is coming back.

  “You mean following the law?” I offer a wink then watch the small pout of her lips spread into a reluctant grin.

  Fuck me, she’s a cute thing.

  “Smart ass,” she mutters under her breath, looking out the window. The conversation stays light; she asks me questions about Trebook’s tactical team and protocol, and I even dare to ask some more questions about her working at Boys Haven. Earlier when she said she worked at Boys Haven, I was taken back. My father was a youth worker for thirty years and at one point growing up, I almost followed his career path. Until my thirst for police work took over.

  “You doing okay over there?” I ask as I turn down my street. She fell silent midconversation about two streets back, her fingers tensing over the strap of her purse.

  “No.” She shakes her head, her color dropping to a shade of white. I’m not sure if she’s having second thoughts about coming home with me or she’s had too much to drink.

  “You feel sick?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything else.

  “No, no, no, no, no.” Her clear eyes narrow, looking from me to my apartment building.

  “What is it?” I pull into my parking space and cut the engine.

  “Apartment nine?” She spits the two words out like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

  “Yeah?” I look at her horrified face and then the freshly painted nine above my parking spot.

  “You have to be kidding me.” She pushes the release on her seatbelt and exits my truck, slamming the door behind her. I follow her out and watch as she walks around the car and stomps her way up the stairs.

  “Want to tell me what the hell is happening here?” I race to catch up with her. A part of me starts to panic. I would never have picked her to turn out crazy, but by the looks of things, I might have an issue on my hands.

  “Oh, not much, Hetch.” My name has never been delivered with such animosity before, and it takes a second to process it. “Just the fact I almost had sex with my annoying new neighbor who changes his women nearly as often as his underwear.”

  What the fuck?

  “Apartment seven?” I stop midstep as it all becomes clear. The change in her the closer we got home. The angry way she spat out my apartment number and the way she stomped up those steps like she knew her way.

  “Oh, please. Don’t say it like I’m the pain in the ass.” She throws her sass over her shoulder and starts taking the steps two at a time.

  Jesus Christ. This is the woman who’s had me messed up the last couple of days.

  “What the hell are the chances? Of course, it’s my luck.” She keeps muttering, placing more distance between us. Shaking my shock away, I continue my pursuit.

  “Are you shitting me right now?” I’m torn between laughing at the turn of events and watching the way her fuckable ass moves up the steps.

  “Jesus, it’s like a bad joke. The man who rudely interrupted my Jill session last week is you. You!” I don’t think she realizes what she just blurted or how loud she’s being; instead, she continues to rant, “No fucking way you can make this shit up. This is just my luck.”

  There are many comments I could lead with right now about the Jill session we had, but I decide I’m better off keeping my mouth shut.

  “I almost gave up my sex ban for you. God help me.” She pushes her key in the door. The same door I’ve been walking past every day this week wondering when we would meet.

  “Wait, Liberty. Come here and take a brea—”

  “Like hell I’m going anywhere with you, Hetch.” She cuts me off.

  “And why the hell not?” I fold my arms over my chest, waiting for whatever bullshit she comes up with.

  “Because one, I happen to like where I live. Even if my new neighbor is some manwhore who likes to fuck hours on end, and then listen in when he isn’t welcome. Two, I have a lease I cannot get out of for another year. And three, you don’t shit where you eat and all that jazz.” She holds her hand out, offering me some friendly bullshit gesture. If I wasn’t so fucking turned on right now, I’d be offended she insulted me with a fucking handshake.

  I just had my tongue down her throat, my dick pressed up against the softness of her belly, and she offers me her fucking hand.

  I’d be less offended if she used said hand to help me get off.

  “So that’s it?” My hard dick dies a slow, sad death, knowing this isn’t ending the way he envisioned.

  “Of course, that’s it.” She huffs, only making me want her more.

  “Well, fuck, babe. Can’t say I’m not disappointed.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get over it when your next fling comes around.” I don’t know what’s worse: the undertone of her disgust or the lip curl that follows when she looks me up and down. “Good night, Hetch.” She opens her door and steps inside.

  “Liberty,” I call out before she closes the door. She doesn’t turn around, but I know she's waiting to hear what I have to say.

  “You’re wrong about the women.”

  She spins, mocks me with her judging eyes, daring me to deny it all.

  Quit while you’re ahead, man.

  Instead, I elaborate. “I don’t change women more than my underwear.”

  She scoffs, “Please, in case you forget, I can hear all.”

  “I don’t wear underwear, babe,” I clarify with a grin.

  “Ugghh. See, you’re an ass.” The door slams closed before I can let out a full belly laugh.

  It’s not lost on me that it’s something I haven’t done with sincerity in a long time.

  Nor is it lost on me how much I like that she pulled it from me.

  Well, this is fucking interesting.

  “Hey, you still awake?” I tap on the wall a little later on. After staring at Liberty’s door
for longer than I should have, I dragged my ass into my own place, had a shower, and then climbed into bed. It’s the first time I’ve been knocked back so vehemently; I don’t know what to do with myself.

  “Go away.” I hear her huffed reply.

  “Can’t really go anywhere.” I snicker, feeling all kinds of messed up talking through a wall. A reminder of last week filters through my memory, reminding me of how she sounds when she comes.

  Fuck, I want a replay now.

  “How about you go to sleep.”

  “Can’t sleep.”

  “Well, I’m trying to, so be quiet.”

  I don’t say anything for a few minutes, the silence growing between us.

  “Wanna jack off again?”

  “Ugghh, seriously, Hetch. Don’t talk to me.” A bang on the wall follows, and it brings a smile to my face knowing I rile her up.

  “I like you, Liberty. You’re unexpected.” I don’t know why I say it; the fact I’m not fucking a woman like my cock thought it would be is messing with me.

  “I don’t like you, Hetch,” is her reply. I don’t bother correcting her. We both know she’s more than affected by me. Instead, I rest further back into my pillow.

  “We’ll see,” I whisper, not sure what it means, but I'm happy to wait it out. I wasn’t lying when I said she was unexpected. She excites me, intrigues me, and even if the night ended the way it did, it's the first time in a long time I'm looking forward to more.

  More what, I don't know. But I can't wait to find out.

  Six

  Liberty

  “So, I’ve let you hold off for as long as physically possible, spill it, sister.” Payton starts on me the next morning when I meet her and Arabella for breakfast.

  “Seriously, let me have at least half of this coffee before I can begin to get my head around last night.” I drop my face into my hands and let out an undignified groan.

  “What! That bad? Say it isn’t so.” She kicks at my foot under the table, needing more information.

  I drop my hands and sit back up. “You know the manwhore next door?”

  “Don’t tell me you got into a fucking contest to see who could scream the loudest?” She lowers her voice on the word fucking, for Arabella’s sake.

  “Jesus, Payton. No. Where do you come up with this stuff?” She shrugs, not giving me a true answer. “Hetch is apartment nine.”

  “SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. Loud-as-fuck is none other than sexy Officer Fucks-a-lot?” She forgets to sensor herself this time and manages to garner the attention of the old couple next to us, the two guys behind us and one little four-year-old.

  “Lower your voice. And don’t call him that.” If I wasn’t so embarrassed, I would snicker at her nickname for him.

  “Uh-oh. You said bad word, Mommy,” Arabella blurts with her mouth full of toast.

  “Bad Mommy.” Payton smacks her own hand then passes her another piece of toast.

  “Sorry, I’m having a moment. So was he as good as he sounds then?” She turns her attention back to me, not done with her interrogation.

  “I didn’t screw him, Pay.” Jesus, what does she think of me?

  “And why the hell not?”

  “Why do you think? He’s clearly a manwhore,” I answer with the most logical reason.

  “Aww, come on, he’s not that bad. A few different women over the course of two weeks barely constitutes being a manwhore. Besides, who cares? You weren’t looking for anything serious, right?” She has a point, who am I to judge him when I was clearly ready to do the same thing? Still, it doesn’t sit right.

  “I’m not comfortable knowing what I know about him. The whole idea of a one-night stand is you don’t have to see them again. Besides, he wasn’t impressed when he found out who I was either.”

  “Please, I saw the way the man was looking at you. I don’t think he would give a flying nun who you are.”

  “It’s easier to keep things separate, you know. I mean, the last thing I need is to have things awkward between us.”

  “Oh, you mean like they are already after Wallgate?”

  Seriously, I don’t know why I tell her anything.

  “Ha ha, you’re so funny. Anyway, it’s done. Over with. It didn’t happen the way I was expecting it to happen so enough talking about him, please. It is what it is. I want to know what happened to you.” I change the subject. I spent all night thinking about Hetch; I don’t want to continue into today. “Hart, was it? Did you get his number?”

  “Oh, God, no. It wasn’t like that.” She gives an innocent shrug, completely unaware how clueless she is.

  “Why not? He seemed nice, Pay. A little older, yeah, but has a good head on his shoulders. Single dad. You guys have a bit in common.”

  “He was nice, but I didn’t see him like that. Besides, Jett and I are still trying to work it out.” She drops a little tidbit of information in there.

  “Ahh, since when?”

  “A couple of weeks.”

  I shouldn’t be so surprised by her need to keep it quiet. I have been particularly forthcoming with my opinion on the matter of her and Jett. But it still stings a little she kept it from me.

  “You didn’t think you could tell me.” I’m not asking. It’s more for my own understanding.

  “Well, you really haven’t been pro-Jett.” She’s not kidding. My stupid brother had the perfect life with a wife and daughter who worshipped him. Instead of appreciating what he had, he gave it up for some little hussy he had working as his assistant.

  “Do you blame me?”

  “No, but this isn’t about you.” She has a point and the moment I realize my selfishness, I try to curb my attitude.

  “Are you sure it’s what you want, Pay?”

  “I don’t know yet. But don’t I owe it to him to at least try? I mean, I took a vow.”

  “A vow he crapped on.” My vocabulary is limited with Arabella at the table, but crapped on is a fairly accurate account.

  “Lib,” she warns, but I’ve never been good at curbing my attitude.

  “No, Payton. That’s bull and you know it. You don’t get to be in my face about my business, and I can’t tell you how I feel.” I want to be the good friend here and tell her I’m so happy for her, but at the same time, it’s getting to the point where tough love is needed.

  “He’s your brother, Liberty, you of all people should be on his side.”

  “Side? This isn’t about sides. Yes, he’s my brother, and I love him, but what he did is wrong.”

  “He’s trying, Lib. For real. He’s been going to counseling.”

  I want to say counseling doesn’t make a new man, but what sort of sister would it make me? “And it’s not just me I have to think about, you know. What about Arabella? If there is a chance I can give her the family I never had, don’t you think I should try?”

  I get what she’s saying. I do. Payton never had a good relationship with her parents, but I know my brother. I remember how devastated Payton was, and how cold he was. The last thing Payton or Arabella needs is to be hurt by him again.

  “You know I love you and Arabella. I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want my dipshit brother hurting you again. If you think you owe it to me or Arabella, I can tell you now, it’s not going to work. You haven’t lost his family. We’re still here. We always will be here. But if you really want this for you, then I’ll support you.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what I want, Liberty. I wish we could go back to before, you know?” She reaches out and runs her finger along Arabella’s cheek.

  “So he fired her I take it?” I can’t even say her name; the little whore doesn’t deserve one.

  “Well, not exactly.”

  “What does that mean? She’s still working there?”

  My dipshit brother.

  “Well, it’s not like he can fire her. He would be opening himself up to a lawsuit.”

  “So you’re paying this home-wrecker, and he’s still seeing her every da
y. Can’t you see how messed up this is?” I know I said I would support her, but this is ridiculous.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Liberty. It’s okay for you to sit there and tell me what is best for me. You’re not the one living this. I love him, okay. And maybe that’s stupid, but I can’t stop it.” She stands from her chair and starts packing up Arabella’s stuff.

  “I don’t want to go, Mommy.” Arabella notices her mom's rush to leave.

  “Payton, sit down.” I try to reach out to her, but she ignores me and continues to ramble. I didn’t envision our breakfast ending like this.

  “He messed up. But if I can forgive him, then you should be able to. We all make mistakes. You’re not perfect either you know.” She reaches for Arabella and picks her up out of the chair.

  “No, Mommy. I not finished.”

  “I never said I was. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Well, it’s a risk I may have to take.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t say anything else about it, okay?” We stare at one another for a beat. Her standing, me seated. We’ve never argued like this before, and I’m having a hard time getting my head around it.

  “Look, I need to go.” She breaks the silence.

  “Payton, don’t—”

  “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll speak to you later. Say bye, Aunt B.” Arabella looks as confused as I am, and before I can call her back, she’s out the door, leaving me sitting there feeling like an asshole.

  “And that’s what happens when you dish out tough love,” I whisper to myself.

  “Liberty?” A knock on my office door a few hours later has me almost jumping out of my chair.

  “Hey.” I look up from my paperwork, checking the time.

  Crap, after seven. I was meant to finish an hour ago. I promised myself I was going to stop staying so late, but time keeps getting away from me.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, but we have an issue.” Sue, one of Boys Haven’s full-time youth workers, steps into my office.