Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T #1)(29)

“Relax, I’m gonna get the f*cker,” he promises, just as he pulls his arm back, and in one fast movement, brings my flip-flop down.

“Ahhh!” I scream at the sound of my flip-flop being slammed down on the wall. “Did you get it? Please tell me you killed it. You killed it, right?” I move when he moves.

“Fuck, did you see where it went?” he answers, letting me know he didn’t get it.

I scream again. This time at him. “YOU MISSED IT. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, HETCH?”

“Calm down, he wasn't even big.” He tries to blow it off like no big deal, but the man doesn't know me. Doesn't know how badly frightened I am of them.

“Are you f*cking blind? The thing could have eaten me. You need to find it. NOW!” I demand, not caring how I sound. He looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind, and he’s enjoying this way too much.

“Please, Hetch,” I whisper. “I'm really scared of them.”

“What are you going to give me?” the smug jerk has the audacity to ask.

“Anything, please, just kill it.” I don’t care. At this point, I need this spider dead, or he'll be sharing my sofa with me.

“Anything?” he repeats, his gaze raking up and down my body. I know I’m only wearing mismatched clothing that does nothing for my figure, yet the way he’s looking at me, I swear I feel like I’m wearing one of my Victoria’s Secret negligées.

“I’m not having sex with you.” I may be desperate, but I'm not that desperate. Besides, I’m staying strong on my sex sabbatical.

“I’m not asking for sex.” He puts it to bed as quickly as I did and I refuse to let myself be disappointed by it.

“Well, what is it you want?” I could have sworn he was looking at me like he wanted me.

“A kiss,” he simply requests, sending my heart rate through the roof.

“A kiss?” I repeat, wondering what a hardship it would be. I’ve been thinking about our kiss back at the bar all week. What harm could come from revisiting it?

“Yes, I want you to kiss me for getting the spider out of here.” I weigh up my options. Kiss the man who has been in my dreams all week, or sleep in the same room as the creepy spider?

It’s not rocket science.

“Fine. But only after you kill it.” I yield, wondering how I actually get myself into these situations. It never ends with me, and now Hetch has come into my life, it’s starting to become tenfold. Hetch nods, then moves back to my bed, leans over one of my many pillows and picks up the dead spider with his bare hands.

“Done, you owe me a kiss,” he taunts, holding it out to me.

“Oh, my God. You’re an ass. You played me.” I jump back at the sight of it and duck my head from seeing it.

“A deal’s a deal, Liberty.” He walks past me to my bathroom, and two seconds later, the toilet flushes.

“No, Hetch. You didn't play fair. Deal’s off,” I call back as I begin pulling off my sheets.

No way am I sleeping in these nasty sheets.

My movements are slow as the pain in my ribs throb as soon as the threat and the adrenaline of the last ten minutes have gone.

“Deal is not off, Liberty.” Hetch steps back into my room. He sweeps his gaze over the floor at the pile of sheets I've just ripped off the bed.

“What are you doing?” he asks, perplexed at my sudden need to change my linens.

“I’m not sleeping in these sheets. Dead spider juice went everywhere.” I move past him to go grab a clean set. He doesn't follow me out. Doesn't tell me I’m crazy, even though he looks like he wants to. Instead, he steps back when I return and watches me as I begin to make the bed.

“You can go now, Hetch. Thanks for your help,” I tell him as I awkwardly try to make my bed with a burning ache radiating through my ribs. He doesn’t leave like I expect him to; instead, he takes a free corner of the fitted sheet and orders me back.

“I’ll do it.”

I start to argue, but the look he gives me is enough to shut me up quick smart. Instead, I stand there quietly and watch him make my bed. We don't speak, Hetch too lost in the task of fitting the second sheet.

It's domesticated and oddly arousing.

When the bed's been made, he steps back to admire his work, while I stand there and admire him.

“Thank you.” I finally break the silence when his eyes move off the bed and onto me.

“You're welcome.” He starts to move toward me. Unable to stand strong, I retreat, taking a step back.

“You should go now, Hetch,” I warn when his gaze darkens.

“You owe me, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that. And the deal's off. You played me.” I hold my ground this time. No way is he getting anything out of our deal when all along he manipulated me.

“You’re so predictable.” His cockiness is a turn-on more than a turn-off, yet I still retreat with a step back.

“You don’t play fair.” My words don’t deter him. He moves in closer as I step back further.

“Babe, I play fair. The spider is dead, no? I'm just not afraid to play dirty.” Another step toward me has my resolve slipping.

“Yeah, well, this proposed kiss goes against everything I believe in.” I know I’m in dangerous territory here, but I’m not sure I care anymore.