Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T #1)(31)

“Forget it, Hetch.” She pushes me back, and readjusts herself, pulling her panties and shorts up her legs.

“Sweetheart, when I sink myself into your f*cking gorgeous *, I don’t want to hold back.” I try again, but I know it doesn’t register.

“Yeah, well, this is not happening again. It was a one-time deal, you blew it.” She fixes her shirt before climbing off her bed.

“It wasn’t, but I’ll let you think it for now if it makes you feel better.” I adjust my straining cock in my shorts and stand.

“Trust me, this”—she motions between us—”is not happening again.”

“I know what you’re doing, Liberty. Don’t think I don’t.”

“You think you have me figured out? Please… you know nothing about me.” I know I’ve hit the mark with my assessment.

Anger, frustration, and lust stirs in her eyes as she works to hide her emotions.

“I might not know everything yet, Liberty. But I know the important stuff.”

“Yeah, what do you know?” She folds her arms over her chest and waits for me to elaborate.

“I know what sounds you make when you're lying in your bed at night playing with yourself.” It takes her a second to realize I went there.

Before she can shut this down, I keep going.

“Know that vibrator of yours must be some heavy duty machinery 'cause some nights, baby, I swear I can feel the vibration through the wall.” My grin widens as her scowl deepens. I need her to feel, to know just how much this chemistry between us has me wound up, but most of all, I need her to know this is far from over.

Even if I have to get it out of her in anger.

“How dare you!” She finds her voice, but I’m not finished.

“I also know you always go back for seconds, sometimes a third—”

“You're an ass. I want you to leave.” She cuts me off this time, walking out of her room, down the hall and out of my line of sight.

“Sorry, not leaving, gorgeous.” I tail her down the hall, but instead of following her to the door, I take a seat on my makeshift bed, and settle in for the night.

“I'm not joking, Hetch. I want you to leave.” She opens the door expecting me to listen.

“And I want to watch you play with yourself with your jacked-up vibrator.”

“Never gonna happen.”

“Well then, looks like we both don't get what we want.” We stare at each other longer than I expected before she reluctantly cracks.

“I hate you.” She slams the door shut and stomps back to her bedroom.

“Good night, Liberty. Sweet dreams.” I smile into the darkness, wondering who this woman is and how the f*ck I’m going to get myself out of this one.



I wake the following morning to a note on my chest. The same neat handwriting that told me I needed to keep it down stares back at me.



Thanks for staying last night. I’m going to crash with my parents for a few days. Please lock up after you leave.

Liberty.



Well f*ck, now she’s begging me to chase.

Game on, Liberty.

Game on.





Ten





Liberty





“We’re worried about you, Bertie.” That damn name comes out of my mom’s mouth again, but this time, it’s delivered as a scold and I know she means business. “You didn’t call us, didn’t come to stay with us. We had to find out from that lovely police officer.”

I’m going to f*cking kill him.

It’s our weekly family dinner, two days after my run-in with Dominic. Two days after my second kiss with Hetch. Two days of hiding at Fee’s.

Two days after my second kiss with Hetch.

To say my parents are pissed they found out I was in the hospital and didn’t tell them would be an understatement. Knowing I’ve been hiding out at Fee’s for two nights has made them lethal.

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you. It was late, and I know you don’t like driving at night.” I offer the only excuse I can give them. Yeah, it was late, and I didn’t want them to worry, but the truth is I didn’t want them there, giving me this exact lecture I’m getting now.

“You didn’t want to wake us? How do you think we felt when the police dropped by to follow up on the statement you made two nights ago?” I find it hard not to cringe trying to envision that conversation. I can’t believe Hetch showed up here. At my parents’ place.

Well, I did tell him I was staying here.

“You’re right, it was wrong of me. If ever I’m in that position again, I’ll make sure you’re the first call I make.”

“I should hope you don’t find yourself in this position again, Liberty.” My father’s customary smooth voice is thick and drowning in raw emotion. I struggle not to react to it.

“Dad, I promise you, I’m not going out trying to find trouble. I was helping one of my boys.” His thick silver mustache sets in a straight line, almost parallel to the numerous wrinkles etched on his wide forehead. I know he thinks I’m on some big kick to save all the kids who come through the doors at Haven, but if he knew Mitch like I do, he would see why I’m so invested.