Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T #1)(108)



“You can make it up to me now.” Her tongue comes out, licking at a dab of icing on her bottom lip. I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose or if she has no f*cking clue how sexy she is.

“Whatever you need, baby.” My cock hardens, and my balls tighten.

“You, I just need you, Hetch.” Her words shift something inside of me. Her acceptance warming me. Her simple need calling me.

This woman, she’s given me grace when I didn’t deserve it, peace when I didn’t know I wanted it, and love when no one else could.

Because of her, I've been given a life I never knew I was missing.

“Ask me what I know,” I whisper, knowing not what I want to do, but what I need to do. Her eyes close briefly before she opens them at my words. They fall on the faint scars on my neck. She does that sometimes, just stares at them as though she needs it to anchor herself.

“What do you know?” She’s smiling now, our little “I know” game becoming a part of who we are.

“I know I love you.” I gently press my lips to hers, kissing and breathing her in. “I know you’re the most important person in my life.” My lips move to her nose, gently pecking the tip. “I also know because of me, you’ve had a really shitty day.” I pepper each kiss over her jawline, working my way up to her mouth.

“No, it was amazing.” She tries to deny it, but we both know it’s true.

“But most of all, Liberty, I know more than anything this is it for me, sweetheart. This chaotic, crazy life is it.” I release my hold of her and drop to one knee right in front of her. I hadn’t planned on doing it tonight, especially not in the kitchen of our house, but there’s no stopping it now. I am so in love with this woman I can’t wait.

“Hetch? What are you doing?” She steps back, her hands move to her mouth as her eyes track me.

“Sweetheart, I know you deserve so much more than what I’m giving you right now, but waiting another minute to ask you is going to kill me.” I pull out the small box I’ve been carrying around for the last month, waiting for the right time. “Liberty Jenson, I am so deeply in love with you, most days it hurts. The only way you could cure me is by marrying me.”

She waits for a beat, then another two, then her mouth moves but nothing comes out.

“Sweetheart?” I press, wondering if I'm reading it all wrong.

“D-did you practice that speech?” She grins down at me, and my heart kicks up a beat. It’s the same response she gave me when I asked her to move in with me.

I can’t help but grin back up at her. Fuck, I love this woman.

“Yeah, this time with props.” I lift the ring her mother and father cried over, when I showed them last month, out of the box and present it to her. “Did it win you over?”

“You didn’t have to win me, Hetch. You had me already.” Her hands move to either side of my face. Cupping my jaw, she leans down and presses her lips to mine.

“Is that a yes, sweetheart?” My lips move over hers, not willing to accept anything else.

“Yes. Yes, Liam Hetcherson, I will marry you.” My lips crash to hers, owning them like she owns me.

Tension flows from her body into mine as I take it all from her.

Her taste.

Her acceptance.

Her love.

My father used to say to get to the end, we have to go back to the start.

This is one of my moments. She is one of my people. Her love has redefined the type of person I have become.

And because of her, I am never going to be the same again.





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Incandescent





Book one in the Knights Rebels MC series




PROLOGUE



The rumble of a motorcycle wakes me from my sleep, stirring the once peaceful night. Reaching out to Zane, my hand finds the coolness of the empty sheets.

“Zane?” I whisper into the darkness. Looking toward the red light of his alarm clock illuminating the otherwise pitch-black room, the clock numbers blink incessantly.

A shiver of alarm runs through me as though ice just replaced my spine. My heart beats double time, the rhythm now matching the rapid blinking of the clock. Something doesn’t feel right.

Grabbing my robe from the end of the bed, I wrap it around myself and creep out of the bedroom in search of my fiancé.

“Zane,” I whisper again as I walk down the long darkened hall.

The burning stench hits me first, its strength potent enough to overpower my taste buds. A wave of heat blankets me as it takes a moment to register the dangerous flames dancing before my eyes. The front of my four-bedroom home burns rapidly, engulfing everything in sight.

I stand fixed, mesmerized by the bright orange cinder, as if the seductive blaze calls to me.

The house shudders; the explosion knocks me off balance, forcing me down to the shaky ground. Dazed, I drop to my hands and begin to crawl my way to the back door, the hallway now swallowed by the blackened smoke. The open flames lick out as I force myself to the only available exit.

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