His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)

At work, he was a different man, a powerhouse, a feared officer of the law. Free stroked Hart’s wide chest, his entire being aching to ease his pain. Here at home, alone. Ivan was a different man—a vulnerable one.

“You feel amazing. I told you, you don’t have to doubt that.” Free held Hart’s face. “Can we leave the kitchen…to the couch, maybe?”

Hart nodded but he went for Free’s lips again. He was on fire now, growing surer with each touch. Free wanted Hart to take over. Needed his control. But, he understood that Hart was learning, just becoming familiar with this side of him, so he had to be patient.

“Ohhh,” Free moaned when Hart went for his throat. His beard scratched the exposed skin of his V-neck shirt and Free wasn’t sure how much pre-come he was going to spill before the real stuff came. With Hart's arms wrapped tightly around his back, Free reclined farther, giving Hart all the skin he wanted. “Yes. Damn, your mouth.”

Hart grunted and bit into his throat, making Free cry out in rapture. He was gonna come. Oh god, he was. It was too much. Free’s dick pulsed rapidly as he lost himself in the buildup. “You’re gonna make me bloody come so hard, love.”

Free didn’t hear the gasp of horror over his own moans of ecstasy but he couldn’t mistake the shrill, “My heavens…stop that!”

Hart cursed as Free was jerked backwards, then he was being forced to his feet on extremely wobbly legs. “What the—?”

“And on my kitchen table, Ivan! With this deviant!”

Free was just able to wrap his confused mind around what was happening, and that they now had a screeching spectator clutching a covered dish of food in one hand and a single key in the other.

Free tried to conceal himself, his cock still pointing toward Hart. The woman’s eyes were bugging out of her head as she turned away from Hart, lasering her steely gaze on Free. If looks could’ve killed, he would’ve been dead and rotting on the floor already. He tried to discreetly maneuver his cock out of view. She glanced down and made a sort of gagging noise at the sight of the stain on his sweats.

“How dare you in my kitchen!” she bellowed and hauled her hand back, slapped the ever-loving-shit out of him before Hart could block her. His head snapped to the left, the sting immediate and hot.

“Shit!” Free clutched his face at the same time Hart lunged for his ex, who already had her hand cocked to land another blow.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Reese? Have you lost your mind?” Hart set his wife farther away and hurried back to Free’s side.

His eyes said it all—how extremely sorry he was—and at that second, Free didn’t blame Hart. But he sure was tired of being threatened, hit, slapped and pushed around in Atlanta. Now, the women were taking shots at him.

“You can’t come in here and assault my company!”

Free righted the rest of his clothes, not sure what to say to this crazy woman. When Hart gently touched Free’s burning cheek, a reflection of utter sorrow showing in those baby blue eyes, all he could do was give him his own look of understanding. This wasn’t his fault. It was neither of theirs.

“I just left my women’s bible study group and came to bring you some leftovers from the potluck, and of course to get my other Pyrex. I heard what happened today and thought you could use a nice meal. Then I come here and see this animal defiling my kitchen.” Hart’s ex went to lunge again, but Hart wouldn’t let her anywhere near him.

“This isn’t your kitchen! We’re divorced. This is my house, not yours. You have no right to come in here like this!” Free hadn’t heard Hart raise his voice before. He wasn’t screaming at her but he was being stern. “You need to leave. Right now.”

Teresa stood there with an angry and very disgusted expression. She would’ve been an attractive woman if she didn’t scowl and snarl like Cruella de Vil. And if she didn’t look at Hart as if he was Sasquatch. “This is how you treat the woman who stayed married to you for twenty-two years?! You do filthy things in my kitchen.”

Free had to get the hell away from this crazy chick before he said something completely out of place on a subject that was none of his business. He moved around Hart

“No. Don’t go. You don’t have to leave. Please. I’m so sorry.” Hart’s eyes went to Free’s cheek. Did he have a mark there? Shit.

He had to reassure him. He reached up and touched Hart’s jaw, ignoring the choked gasp from across the room. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be in your bedroom.”