Nothing Special VI: His Hart's Command, page 10
part #6 of Nothing Special Series
At their initial meeting, Hart had noticed Free’s skittish ways. He’d been in law enforcement long enough to recognize someone who’d suffered abuse either mentally or physically. They both could cause so much damage. He’d immediately wanted Free to feel safe and welcome here—and around him. Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to Free from the first day they’d met. Why he’d protected him so fiercely. That asshole Vasquez had cornered him and tried to intimidate Free, and a beast deep within him had reared its ugly head. Before he knew what he was doing, he was standing on that balcony in front of Free, snarling at anyone who’d dare try to hurt him.
“How was your shower?” Free asked, when Hart entered into the living room.
“Good.” Maybe better if you’d been in there with me. Hart swallowed. If Free tried to join him in the shower he’d most likely stand there like an idiot, covering his hairy groin.
Free wasn’t shy as he eyed Hart appreciatively, from the tips of his big toes all the way to his… Free’s smoldering appraisal stopped at his beard.
“You cut some just now?” Free blurted out.
Hart chuckled at how perturbed Free looked. Like he’d missed the dead strands he’d clipped and let wash down the drain. “Only a bit. Gotta trim it regularly or I’ll end up looking like one of those guys in Duck Dynasty.”
Free barked a laugh, his entire face brightening his dimly-lit home. He stepped forward, his intense gaze still on Hart’s facial hair. “Are you ready to eat?”
Hart was always ready for that. He’d gotten used to eating on the fly and at crazy hours. Now that Free had mentioned it, he realized there was an amazing aroma coming from the kitchen. “Yeah. Smells good.”
“I hope that pasta and meat I warmed up was still good. Smelled fine,” Free said, following him into the kitchen.
“Should still be. It’s only been in there one—” Hart stopped short at the sight of a steaming plate on the table beside a large glass of ice water, even a neatly folded paper towel. Free had placed it out for him as if he were royalty…as if he was something special. Hell, even his wife had never done this. They used to eat buffet-style. There was no way he’d imagined that a man would do something like this for another. So considerate. He stood there stunned speechless.
“I um. I didn’t want to just leave it in the microwave.” Free wrung his hands. “I shouldn’t have…I thought…or do you eat in front of the television?”
Hart’s words were lodged in his throat but he managed to shake his head and sit at the table. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that was most likely just a thoughtful gesture. Nothing more. But, it still felt damn good. Free’s anxiety was quickly replaced with a relieved grin as he sat across from him.
“You’re not hungry?” Hart asked digging right in.
“No. I ate earlier.” Free drank from the bottle of water he’d taken out of the fridge. “I could never eat this late. I’d be up all night.”
Hart didn’t want to make Free sit there and watch him wolf down his dinner, so he drank half the glass of water and hurriedly wrapped it up. When he was scraping the plate with his fork, Free asked him, “So, how long have you and God been friends?”
Hart grumbled, “I’ve known bighead for too damn long. Since he was an oversized rookie. I was stationed at HQ, and God and Day were quickly making a name for themselves on the street. We got lots of history. Surprisingly, SWAT kept getting called in on their arrests. So, we interacted a lot. Long story short; when God got his own task force, he recommended me for his backup.”
Free was watching and hanging onto his every word as if he was telling some magnificent story. His life wasn’t anything to make a big deal about. He was a big boy from the most backwoods ass town in the country. Married for all the wrong reasons and still living with the repercussions. “I have a feeling your life was far more interesting than mine. I remember you said you were born in Baltimore, but raised in eastern England. I know I’ve told you this already but your accent drives me crazy.”
Free’s bright smile beamed all the way to the pit of his stomach, lighting his dreary world. “Thanks, handsome.”
Hart’s cheeks burned under his beard. What are we doing? They were flirting and blushing like school kids. Hart finished his water, needing the coolness to quench the fire in his gut.
“Yeah. I grew up in Peterborough. It’s a huge city full of culture, and my mom loved the arts. We could walk the British towns for hours…just she and I. She’s an artist and I was a techy. Our conversations would often get passionate.” Free laughed softly.
“She sounds fun,” Hart said, pushing his plate to the side and giving Free his full attention. He thought of getting up and putting on a pot of hot water for tea or coffee, but chose to let Free keep sharing.
“I only came back to the States to go to MIT. I…I hate I had to leave my mom. I was always the one that kept my dad in check and out of her face.” Free’s smile faded. Hart swallowed, not sure if he wanted to hear about anything bad done to the man in front of him. Free was such a gentle spirit. Hart had a hard time understanding who would want to destroy that. It was silent for a moment as Free picked at a few nicks on the oak table as if he was contemplating what to say.
Hart studied his slim fingers, his pulse spiking at the thought of what they could do. Free had removed his hoodie, leaving on a thin V-neck T-shirt underneath that showcased those toned forearms. Hart almost groaned again. Now is not the time.
It took Free a while, but he finally managed to utter a few words. He raised his head from the table's surface and gazed at Hart with dark eyes shielded by even darker lashes. “My life after MIT was difficult. My blessing actually a curse. My skills my downfall. I took to electronics when I was two. Was fixing our home appliances by six. Stealing cable and any other utility for my father by ten. My dad quickly tapped in on what I could do naturally. He poured money into me going to the best technical schools. Not because he wanted his kid to be something great…no.” Free frowned as if his thoughts were cutting deep. “He just wanted to be rich by any means necessary. He was a cop, but the filthiest kind. The kind in the back pocket of the worst criminals. And I was terrified of all of them.”
Hart reached for one of Free’s hands. He needed to touch him. He didn’t have to go on if he didn’t want to. But, he wanted to know Free frontwards and backwards. The good and the bad. “It’s okay, Len. You don’t have—”
“No. It’s fine,” Free cut in, squeezing his hand back. “I trust you, Ivan. I mean look at you. I wouldn’t be here alone with you if I didn’t trust you one hundred percent. It’s crazy, that we’re still getting to know each other, but I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Never,” Hart hurried to say. He hoped Free saw the sincerity that he felt inside. Who’s hurt him? Fuckin’ who? “Are you in any trouble, Len?”
“No. Not anymore.” Free’s look was so serious, Hart’s rhythm skipped a beat. He knew whatever Free was about to confess was going to be big. But, he was ready to support him no matter what. Unless Free was a pedophile, murderer—which he was pretty sure he wasn’t—Hart was committed and all in. If Free was in some kind of legal trouble or danger, he was sure that between his team and God’s, they could put their heads together to get him out of it.
“That’s good, then.”
“Sure is. Now that my mother and I are in the witness protection program, no one will ever find us again. Not even my father and all his connections. My mom teaches art at an elementary school on a naval base in Virginia,” Free said casually.
Hart could’ve caught a whole gang of flies with his wide-open trap. Picking his lip up off the table he sputtered, “Len! You’re not supposed to tell anyone that. No one! How do you…?”
“Calm down.” Free’s smile was relaxed.
Why does he think this is funny? Has he told anyone else? “I’m serious. If you’re in witness protection you’re not supposed to—”
“The government didn’t put my mother and me in the program,” Free added easily. “Tech did.”
“What?” Hart gasped. “Detective Murphy?”
“Yes. He hacked into the Federal Witness Security Program. He got my mother and I in with new identities, homes, jobs, everything. Me and Tech had both already dropped out of MIT. There was nothing else for them to teach us. My senior year, my father started to constantly harass me about helping this big London crime family move a lot of money. Meaning steal someone else’s money and move it into their own bank.”
Hart listened in horror.
“I think my dad got in over his head. He got in way too deep with them and when he wanted out, they wouldn’t let him…and went after his family. Since I was all the way across the ocean, they targeted my mom.” Free’s hands shook slightly in Hart’s grasp. “Tech and I barely got there in time to save her.”
Hart picked Free’s hand up and kissed his knuckles. It felt like the absolute most natural and right thing to do. He was pleasantly surprised when Free took a long, calming breath and settled back into the chair. After he gave Hart a reassuring smile, he said, “I’ve only told you. I’ve never told a soul. Tech knows, of course, but when he was arrested he didn’t tell the Feds who he added to the list, and they couldn’t figure out what, if anything, that he’d done.
“The DOJ has some of the best computer specialists in the world, but they couldn’t see what Tech did differently. So the charges was reduced to tampering, which is still a serious federal offense. Tech would’ve done a lot of time if it wasn’t for God and Day stepping in. I owe Tech so much. I was trapped in Peterborough. I thought I was going to have to help the Glasgow family. I was terrified and they were sending goons left and right. They let me know that anywhere I went, they’d be there watching. The federal program was the only way to be free. So Tech changed my name to Freeman and got us the hell out of England.”
“Jesus.” Hart couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I had to tell you, Ivan. I don’t want you to think I’m a liar. Or a cheater. Sneaky. Or not who I say I am. I know you’ve heard what I can do. I would never do those things though, for any amount of money. I don’t care about cash. Never have. I just wanna be safe.” Free shook his head slightly. “Tech said you might not like the truth, but I had to tell you anyway.”
He did have a duty to report crimes. But according to him, the one that did the crime—Tech—had already served his punishment. Furthermore, if Free and his mom had used that system to escape a dangerous crime family, then they’d used it exactly for what it was designed. Hart also took a vow to protect and serve. He’d be serving an injustice and putting a woman and her son in harm’s way, not protecting them, if he reported this. No damn way.
“So you all didn’t care about anything else on that list. Just getting you and your mother on it.” Hart’s voice was gravelly. He needed more water.
“No. We had no time to dillydally. Tech had to get in and out fast, but they still pinpointed his location within minutes.” Free looked guilty. “I was headed to the airport with a new identity and Techy was on his way to prison.”
“I’m glad you had Detective Murphy.” Hart said honestly. “I’m glad he helped you.”
“Me too. My mom has an amazing life in Virginia. A caring husband and young step kids to dote on. She’s the happiest she’s ever been.” Free picked at the wood again, his head lowered. “Also, living in a RV isn’t as glamorous as it seems. It’s so lonely. True, I’ve traveled all over the country assisting legit businesses by helping build their technology departments, or networks, and creating inventions along the way. But the moving gets tiresome, ya’ know? Now, I finally feel like I can have a relationship and a life too, if I’m careful.”
Hart
Hart
Does he mean a life with me? Hart looked around at his home. It was nice and it was his. He didn’t have a lot but what he did have, he could share. He knew he was getting too far ahead of himself.
“If you don’t mind, can I make some tea? I have some in my bag,” Free asked.
Damnit. He was being a terrible host. Who didn’t make sure their guest had a beverage? Hart jumped up, the sound of the chair’s legs scraping against the wood flooring was loud. “I can put on a pot of water to boil.”
“All that’s not necessary. I live in a camper. Just nuking some tap water in the microwave will do me fine.” Free stood and went into the other room, where he’d placed his backpack. When he returned with a small airtight container of teabags, he held it up and asked, “Want a cup too? I have a relaxing blend in here you might like.”
Is that my special surprise I needed? He certainly hadn’t forgot the promise Free had made him think about continually throughout his shower.
“Not much of a tea drinker but I’ll try some.” Hart shrugged.
“So glad you’ll humor me.” Free winked at him, then went about filling the two mugs he’d pulled from the cabinet. When they were finished he brought the cups over and set one in front of Hart. “Smell it first. It’s really good for calming.”
Hart chuckled at the interesting request, but stuck his nose into the mug anyway. He found himself doing anything Free asked him to do. The tea smelled nice. Kind of floral. He hoped it didn’t taste that way, noticing that Free hadn’t bothered with sugar.
“Nice, yes?” Free whispered, watching Hart sip the hot beverage.
It is, kinda. He still had a lot of pain and tension in his neck and shoulders, so he let the piping hot liquid slide down his tongue slowly like Free suggested. It wasn’t bad, almost naturally sweet but it had a grassy undertone that he couldn’t really enjoy. He nodded, staring deeply into the mug as if that’d help the taste. “Not bad.”
“It helps me sleep if I get restless.”
Hart looked up. “Do you get restless often?”
Free locked eyes with him. “I do.”
Hart set his mug of hot tea down, no longer interested in anything that would add to his already rising temperature. He wanted to ask Free, when was he restless? At night? When he was all alone. Because he sure was. Heart in his throat, he clamped his mouth tight, his focus dropping to Free’s mouth.
Free licked his creamy-pink lips, then stood slowly, his gaze never wavering as he moved toward Hart. Damn, everything this man did he did with full concentration and passion. Hart wished he could hide his excitement, but it was a lost cause. His chest rose and fell so fast, as if he was having a heart attack. He slid his chair farther from the table and turned to face him.
Free moved as if he knew how sexy Hart found him. Slow and sensual. Then he nudged Hart’s legs apart so he could stand between his thighs. Hart looked up and became mesmerized.
“How are you feeling now?” Free whispered. His voice wasn’t soft or feminine, by any means. He had a deep, soothing tone that was sweet music to his ears. Hart could’ve picked that voice out of any recording. Free touched his cheek, then smoothed his palm down to his chin, combing his slim fingers through his beard.
Uggh. Hart’s cock jumped in his tight briefs. He wanted to answer Free and tell him he was feeling amazing and to keep touching him there; however, he was afraid if he opened his mouth all he’d do was grunt and moan. Watching Free’s beautiful eyes as he caressed his beard sent his arousal into a whirlwind. No one had ever done that—gazed at him with such want and affection. He’d always desired that…needed that…but had never gotten it.
Free inched closer. Enough that Hart could lean forward and rest his forehead in the center of his abs. Damn, he was so exhausted. As he sat there in silence, his mind automatically went back to his job…to his bust. He didn’t want to think about that while Free was holding him. He needed to be in the moment and enjoy all of this. His shoulders started to rise to his ears and the tightness in his neck went a degree above painful.
Oh god. Unnnngh. Free worked his hands around to the back of his neck and started to prod gently at the painful bunches of muscles there. And Hart finally let his groan out.
Free rubbed his warm palms across his head, then down to the pressure points behind his ears. Hart wrapped both arms around Free’s waist, keeping him tight against him, not letting him go anywhere. “That feels so good,” he half moaned, half growled as Free upped the pressure. Shit, yeah. The pads of Free’s hands were soft, not callused like his own. His fingertips were a bit harder, probably from so many years of clicking on a keyboard, but Hart found it all blended together perfectly. This was his little something special Free had planned for him. But, it wasn’t so little at all.
It was humongous.
“I thought you might need this. I can feel the muscles spasming here.” Free kneaded a particularly tender spot. They were quiet for a long while, Free not blabbering a lot of nonsense while Hart enjoyed his massage and let the disappointment of the day fade away. Free eventually added, “I’m sorry you had such a rough day, Ivan. I won’t pretend to know what to say. I hope what I’m doing is enough.”
“Mmmm. It’s so much more than enough. You just don’t know.” Hart squeezed Free, not worrying if it was too hard. Free was toned and strong. And the way he was touching him, stroking him, and fingering his beard went far beyond a massage; it spoke of his own lust. With his head down, he had a good view of the bulge in Free’s sweatpants. Hart desperately wanted to touch it. So much so that he started to shake.
Free murmured something comforting then opened his long legs and straddled Hart’s lap. He tried to slow his breathing and not instinctively thrust his hips upwards. This wasn’t some raunchy lap dance. Free was still gazing into his eyes and touching him to relax him. To care for him. And heavens, did that turn him on more than anything sexual could.
