Nothing Special VI: His Hart's Command, page 6
part #6 of Nothing Special Series
“Was it Vasquez?” Tech asked in a hushed tone.
Free nodded. He slowly exhaled, “That guy is such a prick.”
“Motherfucker. I knew it.” Tech sat next to him. “It’s gonna be all right. God and Day are gonna handle this guy, once and for all. Syn probably just called his sergeant.”
Free sat up straighter when Hart walked through their department doors. His smile had been bright enough to light up the room, but the moment he saw God’s face it fell fast. Hart quickly scanned the large office before his eyes landed on Free’s. It felt as if a laser beam was going to make the glass shatter between them—that was how fiercely Hart was staring at him as he listened to the conversation. Hart spun around, aimed toward the door, his eyes blazing, and his bald head gleaming with perspiration as it turned an alarming shade of red. God just barely caught him, roughly hooking his forearm inside Hart’s and tugging him back. It didn’t look easy. God’s bicep bulged under his sleeve, his veins protruding in his forearms as he held onto Hart, whispering forcefully in his ear.
“Oh my gosh.” Free shook his head. “This is a mess, Shawn. I’m okay. He was apologizing at first, then he flipped and was getting mad I wouldn’t put in a good word for him with God.”
“Geez. That guy just doesn’t know when to give up. God and Day will never let him in, no matter what he does. It’s unethical for me to tell you that’s he’s been cited multiple times for conduct unbecoming a police officer, but I will anyway.”
Free’s chest ached again, but for a whole other reason now. Hart was finally calming himself and returning to his natural color as God continued to talk him down. Day and Syn were still conversing with Mason when an older black man, dressed in a quality blue suit came into their office.
“This is getting out of control.” Free clutched his chest. He didn’t want any trouble. If trouble came, he’d have to leave again. He couldn’t go. Not yet. And Hart’s reaction made him feel so many things. The way he was fuming and flexing his muscles, it appeared as if he wanted to get a piece of Vasquez, once again jumping to protect him. Free slowed his breathing. He didn’t want his other parts responding. He had to turn his eyes, no longer able to stare at those glistening blue eyes, and dark beard.
“It’s not out of control. You don’t have to be harassed where you work. Especially if you work in the goddamn police department. That’s also why Vasquez will never make it on the team, because he’s an idiot. Right now they’re gonna—”
“Who’s that in the suit?” Free asked. The man looked important, serious, and not too happy to be there.
“That’s Sergeant Hutton. Vasquez’s supervisor. Just like if anyone wants to complain about us regarding behavior, they talk to Syn. Sarge most likely wants to give Hutton a heads-up on what’s going on. He’ll have him speak with Vasquez and order his ass back in line and remember why he’s fuckin’ here.” Tech’s voice grew harsher.
Free turned toward his best friend, smirking as he remembered how fierce Tech could get over him since his attack. He reached over and put his hand on Tech’s thigh, gently rubbing the rough denim before squeezing. He was too cute, cursing and hissing with such venom, but he was dressed like a doggone boy scout—complete with snug, tan corduroy pants and a cream Ivy-league polo shirt.
“Hey. Relax, potty mouth.” Free tried to give his friend a smile but it felt flat on his lips.
“Don’t run away from me again, FreeBaby, okay?” Tech rasped. He cupped the back of Free’s neck and pulled him until he brought their foreheads together. “Don’t leave. We’ll get this guy to leave you alone. I promise.”
Free’s smile was a little more genuine. He wished he could’ve made Tech his own promises back, but he couldn’t. Instead, he focused on being there now, and he still wanted to do his job, “I just want us to get to work. This is disrupting the entire morning, and the meeting.”
“All anyone cares about right now is that this never happens to you again, then the meeting will resume.” Tech watched him. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m gonna go out there and see what they’re saying.”
“Okay.” Free sighed. He spun his chair around and faced the center of the table. If Vasquez was going to be called down, he didn’t want to see him.
The door opened again and he ignored the voices that flooded in for a brief moment before it sealed shut. He thought it was Tech with an update. It wasn’t.
“I’m so sorry that happened. Are you okay, Len?”
Free inhaled sharply. Gooseflesh popped up on his skin at the sound of that deep voice. He turned around and stood. There was a lot of concern in Hart’s expression and even more hurt. The fury was gone as he gazed at him. Free whispered, “C’mere, please.”
Hart nodded and allowed Free to pull him through the conference room and away from curious eyes. He swiped his ID badge at the door and let them into their armory. As soon as it slammed shut behind him, he spun around and closed the small space between them. He stood almost eye level with Hart. He wanted to reach his hand up and…
“Can…can I hug you?”
Free’s sigh was loud as he almost doubled over with relief. He desperately needed Hart’s hands on him—a person he trusted—after being trapped again by that weasel. His throat was sore and his head still throbbed, but he was intent on enjoying his first real contact with Ivan Hart. With his hands already inching up Hart’s chest, he nodded, giving him express permission to touch him. Anywhere. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of those hard pecs, inhaling Hart’s strong scent, letting it ease the tension that had settled in his neck and back. Panic attacks, even the smallest ones, always left him achy and a bit disoriented. Hart couldn’t have offered solace at a more perfect time.
Hart’s heart beat wildly under his palms. It was obvious to Free that this was his first taste of intimacy with a man. He wanted him to enjoy it, because it almost felt like the first time for him as well. He hadn’t been with a big man—the kind of man he preferred—since the assault over ten years ago. Large hands just barely touched his waist, making him jump. Hart didn’t remove them, he tightened his grip and pulled Free closer. His head was bowed, those blue eyes watching him with a level of hunger and desire that should’ve terrified him, but only made him hotter.
Free brought his hand up, disappointed he couldn’t stop it from shaking, and touched Hart’s rough cheek. He barely dug his fingertips in, wanting to enjoy the coarseness there. Free held in his groan. It wasn’t the time or place for him to stroke that fine beard, because the moment he did, the four walls around him would disappear, and he was going to pounce on the big captain right there amongst the AK47s and M16 assault rifles, oblivious to it all. He refrained and eased his hands up the rest of the way and linked them behind Hart’s head, burying his face in the deepest recesses of his throat, and just breathed. Breathed in the security and comfort he knew this man could give. Now he felt as if everything was going to be all right.
Hart
Free had to feel how out of control his heart was beating. Hart didn’t know what in the world had gave him the courage to ask Free for a hug, but the weariness he’d seen in him had him speaking the words before he could talk himself out of it. Besides, God had told him it’d be a good idea for him to check if Free was okay. At first, all he’d wanted to do was haul ass to the second floor, barge through robbery’s doors and tear Vasquez a new asshole. Had he thought Hart was playing, with the first threat? The bastard needed to be stopped. He was a disgrace to the badge. He’d told God that if he didn’t want him to knock Vasquez out, then he wanted the incident officially documented with his superior officer.
Hart tried to be mindful of how tightly he was holding Free. He had moved in and made himself nice and cozy against his chest. It was beyond wonderful. He almost felt bad that he was receiving such pleasure when he was supposed to be comforting Free, not the other way around. He loved how big his arms looked wrapped around Free’s narrow waist. Free wasn’t short, Hart didn’t have to stoop to hold him or to press their cheeks close. They fit well together. He smelled warm and inviting. Hart burrowed his face behind Free’s ear, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.
“Hold me tighter,” Free whispered, nestling against him.
Hart couldn’t stop the faint moan that escaped his throat. He squeezed him even closer as Free trembled faintly in his hold. He was touching a beautiful man, and most importantly, Free seemed to be enjoying it, enjoying him. His wife used to tell him constantly he was too big and burly to hug her. He’d missed the affection of a simple embrace.
“You feel so good, Ivan,” Free spoke against his warm skin. “I trust you.”
Hart’s throat was tight. He was still flabbergasted about what it was that Free saw in him, but he wasn’t going to question it any longer. He decided he was reaching out and grabbing all of Free with both hands, and he wasn’t letting go unless he was told to. Hugging him until he wasn’t trembling any more was taking longer than he’d thought and before he knew it, Hart’s groin started to throb at the same rhythm as his pulse. Oh no. Free caressed his neck and his shoulders as he took as much comfort as he wanted. Soft fingers stroked the back of his scalp, making his cock jerk and harden so fast he got dizzy. He absently pushed Free back a few inches.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Hart turned his lower body away. He didn’t want to let Free go because his rejected expression was too much. “I’m so sorry.”
“I crossed the line, huh?” Free mumbled.
You didn’t. With his hips still turned at a weird angle, he began to explain himself, because the last thing he wanted was for Free to think he didn’t want him badly. “My wife used to get very angry when my…” Hart groaned. This is fuckin’ humiliating. He motioned with his head toward his prominent bulge. “When it’d stab her.”
Free blinked repeatedly, bewildered, as if Hart had just spoken in Japanese.
“Those were her words. ‘Stabbing’.” Hart looked away, unable to see the strange expression or worse, the pity lurking in those dark orbs. “My reaction was maybe a delayed, post-traumatic divorce flashback. I thought for a second I better not stab you too hard and turn you off.”
Hart could feel the heat of indignity all over his face and neck. He was mortified. No man wanted to confess that the person who was supposed to love him unconditionally had been repulsed by him. Teresa had had infinite conditions. So many that he hadn’t been able to keep up. He closed his eyes and tried not to acknowledge the humiliation. Instead, soft, slim fingers stroked his flaming cheek.
“Hey,” Free whispered close to him. “Look at me.”
He did what he was told. Free’s expression was devoid of any pity.
“Thank you for telling me that. For being honest. It explains a lot, I think. But, let me tell you this and, I’m only going to say it once.” Free stared deep into his eyes. He saw the honesty there. “Whatever your ex-wife thought of your body, of your hair, your sex…I am one hundred percent sure that I think the complete opposite.”
Hart hoped that statement was true. The lust blazing in Free’s eyes was undeniable. Free grabbed him roughly around his waist and turned his hips back toward him. Hart’s breath hitched at the first feel of another man’s hard cock pressed firmly against his own. He was thankful the door and the walls of the armory were five-inches of reinforced steel, because the tortured moan he released would’ve easily been heard throughout the office.
“Feels good, yes?” Free whispered against his cheek. He kept his hold on his hips and pushed them back until Hart’s back connected with the wall. He grunted at Free’s strength, his lean muscles and tight body forcing him to give him what he wanted. Free’s own hardness dug deliciously into his. “None of this right here offends me. It flatters me.”
Free rotated his hips, making him clamp his jaw to keep from yelling how amazing it felt. A small, satisfied smile played on Free’s lips when he asked, “Are you ready to be with a man, Ivan? Hmmm?”
Hart wouldn’t start this—relationship, friendship, partnership—with lies. It was clear that wasn’t the way to have a successful anything. He’d been hiding his true nature for years. This was a chance for him to really be him. If Free said he’d like anything that his wife hated, well then, he was about to love the hell out of this. Hart wrapped his arms around Free’s waist—enough to make him moan—and spun them around, reversing their positions, and pinned Free’s body to the wall with his own. Before Free could gasp in surprise, Hart had both his hands secured in one of his fists and pinned over his head.
“I’ve been ready, Len. Are you sure you’re ready too?” Hart breathed against Free’s lips. He wanted to take the bottom one between his teeth and suck on the fullness. His dick throbbed angrily.
Free tried to arch against him, but he held him down, already letting him know that he wasn’t in charge. Hart squeezed Free’s hip before he ran the flat of his hand up his hard chest to his throat. He paused there, letting it rest over his collar bone. Free’s nostrils flared and his cock nudged him. He does like it. His reaction said it all. Free loved his body, his strength. Free licked his lips and nodded slightly. Damn, he wanted to keep exploring Free’s trust, but he knew he needed to bring this down. God had given him ten minutes of privacy. Their time had to be up by now.
“Please.” Free’s voice was low and raspy as he arched his long throat.
Fuck, he’s begging. How was he possibly going to cool the heat burning between them enough to go back out there and return to his desk as if his world hadn’t just shifted? His mind was telling him to stop this behavior at work, yet his body was still pressing forward. He’d been dreaming of this day forever. He eased his hand up the rest of the way until his palm rested over Free’s throat, his fingers lying against his neck.
Free’s dark eyes fell closed as he craned his neck to give Hart more room—to show him how safe he felt with Hart's hands anywhere on him. Hart held their position, staring at the man who was vibrating from his touch.
“Please what?” Hart managed to grit out. His voice strained and rough. “What do you want me to do?”
“Anything. Just…touch me. Kiss me.” Free’s lips stayed parted as he panted shallow breaths over Hart’s face. His tan skin was flushed pink again, but this time there was an attractive glow to his tone that revealed he was no longer pissed off and angry. He was in a full-blown state of desire. And Hart had been the one to put him there, had completely transformed Free’s emotions.
“I won’t kiss you right now.” Hart said, teasing them both by brushing his lips and his scruff across Free’s mouth.
Free bucked his hips, frowning at being told no. He looked almost petulant. Hart was in deep trouble. He wanted to cave already, and give Free all that he asked. Not yet. He needed to rein in control. This was who he was. He didn’t only take charge in his department, but he needed to be in charge in every aspect of his life—including the bedroom. Hart thrust his pelvis against Free’s, earning him another salacious moan. He couldn’t believe how responsive he was to him. “You have to get back out there. And I have to go back upstairs.”
“No. Not yet. I just need a couple more minutes,” Free said, not hiding his need.
“Come to my house tonight,” Hart answered. He moved his hand around to the back of Free’s neck and released his wrists. He quickly wrapped them around Hart’s waist, holding him tight. Hart bowed his head slightly and let their foreheads rest together. It was intimate and calming. “We can order some dinner. Maybe talk some more. I really wanna get to know you, Len.”
Free sighed, “I like you calling me Len and not Free. I’m starting to hate the name Free and Freeman.”
Hart didn’t understand that. “It’s your name.”
“Lennox is my name. Freeman is not.” Free looked so serious Hart knew he wasn’t lying. He didn’t interrupt.
“That was all Tech’s doing. He saved my mom…and made me a Free. Man. Before he was arrested.”
Hart blinked. “Wow.”
“Calm down. I didn’t steal anyone else’s identity. But it was the only way to keep me well hidden.”
Hart didn’t like how that sounded, “Hidden?”
“I’ll tell you all about it at dinner. It’s nothing that will compromise your shield. I swear. I would never do that to any of y’all.” Free maintained eye contact, “So, ordering in tonight?”
“I can’t cook.” Hart let the subject of Free’s name drop for now. He brushed a wayward lock on top of Free’s head, then stared back into his eyes, “can you?”
“Not really.”
Hart laughed. “Like I said. We’ll order dinner. Talk a little.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Yeah. It does.” Their voices were low and they murmured their responses as if someone was close by eavesdropping. “So…it’s a date…right?”
“Sounds like one to me. It sure took you long enough.” Free snapped playfully.
Hart didn’t respond. Not with words. He smiled broadly and hugged Free again, already addicted to the feeling, “I have to go. But come by my office later, if you can sneak away for lunch. Unless something comes up, I’ll be back from drills around one.”
“We have a strategy meeting planned today, then I’ll be in the office alone this afternoon. I’ll get away.” Free promised him.
Hart
“Hey, where’d you disappear to?” Carlos asked as soon as Hart came through the glass doors of his unit.
“I was in narcotics,” he said, stopping at his assistant’s desk for his messages.
He handed him three message slips. Hart kept walking toward his personal office. His department wasn’t designed like God and Day’s. They had an open floor plan as well, but also three conference rooms. The center of their office—nicknamed the hub—was where they congregated and brainstormed. They had a kitchen toward the back, next to the recreation area. But they rarely had time to lounge.
