The Hero

by Amelia Shea

  She sealed her lips to his trying not to deepen the kiss. His groan was soft and guttural. His mouth opened and delved deep into her, his tongue thrashed against her, tasting her in the most erotic and filthy way. She gasped against his lips when he spun them around, his hard body and heavy weight landing on her, his lips never parting from hers. The covers were yanked from her body with the cool air draping over her skin. She shivered. She couldn’t be sure if it was from the loss of covers, or him on top of her and doing a delicious swirl of his tongue.

  His body shifted to the side, angled on half her body. She pulled his shoulder, wanting to keep him in place. It wasn’t until she heard the crinkling of a wrapper that she realized what he was doing. At least, one of them was thinking with something other than their lower halves. Macy turned her head, watching him rip open the condom with his teeth and sheathing himself. It happened so quick, and before she could think, his lips were pressed against hers.

  She drove her hand through the back of his hair, threading her fingers through the surprisingly soft locks. Kissing had always been her thing. Some people could take it or leave it, Macy was all in when it came to making out. But kissing Rourke? It only increased her desire and enjoyment. She swiped her tongue against his bottom lip and tilted her head, welcoming him back in her mouth.

  There was something intimate about kissing. It was a connection on a different level. At least for her it was, and she planned on kissing him until he’d had enough.

  He ripped his lips away, dropping his face into the curve of her neck. His cock, lining up perfectly with her core, surged forward, and she was shocked by the intruding girth. So different from last night when he eased into her body. It seemed he’d held back. Not now though. She moaned and gripped the mattress between her fingers. He was so big, as she remembered. His cock drove in and out of her body, making her feel as though she was on the verge of orgasming. She tightened her knees against his thighs.

  “Touch me,” he snapped in a low growl.

  She immediately gripped his back and dug her fingers into his flesh. He rocked harder into her body, and the slow tease of his cock had her moving against him, begging for him to take her faster. His dick nailed her hard and her breath shallowed. His heavy breath on her neck was hot, and his nose grazed her neck in every pound of his hips. She had never been fucked so thoroughly in her life. She curled her toes and scraped her nails down his back. She pressed her head deeper into the pillow. She came hard and fast with his cock slamming into her. Two sharp thrusts and he pulled out of her quickly, ripping off the condom. He reared back on his knees and jerked his hand wildly over his cock until the white strands jetted from his cock landing over her breasts. His groan echoed through the room as his head pulled back.

  He was a fucking vision. Nothing hotter she’d ever seen or would see in her life. All tensed, muscled, and he just came all over her. Staking his claim? Her belly warmed, and her hands drifted over his thick thighs. Wild sex was hot.

  She rested her hand on his thigh with her fingers caressing lightly. He fell forward with his fists on either side of her head, and his head hung low. She continued grazing her fingers over his legs while listening to his uneven panting. Kiss me.

  His body was still tense when he shifted his leg over her. She watched him carefully get up from the bed and stalk to the bathroom. Even his ass was muscled. Her lips curled as she moved to her side, propping her head on her elbow.

  Where was he going? She assumed to clean up. She sighed easily. Morning sex had never been a favorite of hers, but Rourke had changed her mind. She tightened her lips, keeping her smile at bay. Being with Rourke alone had surpassed every expectation she had. For as amazing as last night had been, this was better.

  When the door slammed, she flinched, and realization struck like a slap to the face. Was she being dismissed? Her skin immediately chilled as if the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. She wasn’t expecting him to curl up next to her. She also didn’t expect to be abandoned in his room. She waited. As the seconds passed, it became clear. He wasn’t coming out anytime soon. Heat rose to her face, and she sat up. What the hell just happened? She yanked the sheet against her breasts and hugged her arms around her stomach.

  She scanned the room until it dawned on her. Gage left. Rourke left.

  Time to go.

  She used the sheet to wipe off her breasts and moved to the edge of the bed for her thong. Her legs ached as she put them on and ambled over to the side of the chair for her bra.

  She was snapping the clasp when she heard the shower. What did she expect? Sadly, she at least expected a goodbye, a possible exchange of numbers, or maybe a kiss? The last was absurd for her to even consider. Sure, he kissed her during sex but kissing her goodbye, no longer in the throes of passion, wasn’t realistic.

  Her one-night stand threesome had come to an end. She glanced around his room and spotted his phone on the nightstand. She’d call an uber since her phone was completely dead. She walked over, in no rush. Part of her was deliberately stalling. She wasn’t quite ready for it to be over, which was strange considering who she was waiting around for. For all the shit she fed to Cheyenne about a relationship with a biker, here she was waiting around for Rourke to appear again. Pathetic. She grabbed his phone then quickly realized that she wouldn’t be able to open it without his code.

  “Shit,” she muttered. Oh well, I’ll just have to wait for him to be done with his shower. She tried to bite back her smile. She set the phone down, but she must have hit the power button. On the main screen was a text.

  Trini: Are you home for dinner tonight?

  Her stomach plummeted. Home for dinner? It was obviously from a woman. She glanced up at the door. She’d asked Cheyenne enough questions to know he wasn’t married. Who the hell is Trini? A woman who was waiting at home with dinner. Her stomach churned. So typical. She had the absolute worst taste in men. A threesome may have been on her bucket list, but being with a man who had a girlfriend, was not. She flicked her gaze to the bathroom door and was almost surprised by her own disappointment. Rourke hadn’t given her any outward obvious signs their time together would amount to more than last night. However, he did take a protective stand against the guy at the door, and he showed her his softer side, especially when she was set to bolt from fear. Then he wanted her alone, all to himself. Didn’t that mean something? Obviously, not. She allowed her mind to concoct something that wasn’t real or true. Dammit!

  She put the phone down and quickly finished getting dressed. She grabbed her bag and headed out the door. The bar area was quiet, with only one lone occupant.

  He glanced up from his phone and scowled. She smiled as she walked over.

  “Can you call me an Uber, please?”

  The prospect from last night scowled and his lips twisted. He opened his mouth then halted when she lifted her hand.

  “Think before you say it, ’cause I’m pretty sure Gage’s offer to kill you is still on the table.”

  The prospect clamped his lips shut and gave her a sharp nod.

  She smiled and walked to the door. “Thanks, I’ll wait outside.”

  What a fucked up ending to a mind-blowing night.

  ****

  Rourke was heating up soup when he heard the knock on his door.

  He had a room at the clubhouse, but like most guys, he enjoyed the escape and privacy the clubhouse didn’t offer. His mobile home was old, cheap, and served its purpose. He lived a few doors down from his younger sister. If not for her, he’d probably have an apartment or small house in a better section of town rather than this shithole. The mobile home park was in the seedier section on the outskirts of Blacksburg.

  He grabbed his beer from the table and took a swig as he walked over to the door. He pushed it open to find his niece smiling up at him. The only person on the planet who could make him smile was this kid. Even a hard, jaded bastard like himself was no match for a toothless five-year-old with big brown eyes. He widened t
he door, and she stumbled inside followed by his sister.

  “Why’d ya knock?” He had an open-door policy with his sister and niece, and they used it. He never brought women back to his place, so there was no danger of them walking in on something.

  The corner of her lip curled, and she widened her eyes. “Are you kidding? Two days ago, I came over to invite you for dinner, and you almost bit my head off.”

  Rourke sighed. It was true. He’d gotten home the night after the threesome. Also, the day Macy walked out on him while he showered. When he saw her gone, he almost lost his shit. He scoured the whole clubhouse searching for her before allowing reality to hit. She had left when he was in the shower. The prospect had called her a ride, and she was gone. He was raging for the next day, and Trini got in his crosshairs.

  “Said I was sorry.”

  She laughed and crossed her arms. “I know, but I’m not taking any chances. From now on, I’ll knock. Emme won’t.” She shrugged. “I also know you won’t yell at her. You better now?”

  He swallowed the small lump in his throat as he leaned against the counter, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah.” It was a lie. He wasn’t better. He was still fucking pissed. More so than he was two days ago. He wasn’t sure what pissed him off more, her leaving, or how much he cared. When she walked out, it was over. She wasn’t interested in anything more than a night, and their night was over. It was for the best. Macy didn’t belong in his world, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t fit into hers. He could only imagine the response they’d get if he picked her up from work. Pulling up on his motorcycle, dressed in his cut at her office building and having her straddle his bike in a dress. It was fucking laughable. In the end, he was Rourke, she was Macy, and together they were impossible. He gripped his bottle tightly, trying to rid her from his mind.

  “You don’t look much better, Rourke? Is it a club thing?”

  He eyed Trini and cocked a brow. She knew better than to ask about club shit. He was close with her, but things happening in the club were never discussed. She smiled and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. “Or is it a girl thing?”

  His brows furrowed. This was the problem being as close as they were. Trini had a way of knowing things he’d never shared.

  “Do you have a girlfriend, Uncle Rourke?”

  He gazed up to see Emme centered on his couch, watching him. She was a mini-replica of Trini when she was her age. He smiled back at her. “No.”

  “Oh.” She twitched her nose, and he noticed the slight disappointment in her tone. “You should get one.”

  Trini laughed, and he glanced down at her. “Yeah, Rourke, you should get one.”

  A girlfriend. The last time he had one was back when he was nineteen. He was a dumb fuck falling into lust with a club whore he caught banging another member. He was young and stupid. He got caught up with the idea of having a woman by his side, in his bed, and on the back of his bike. The reality was harsh.

  He hadn’t necessarily sworn off women in the long term sense until Trax got caught up with his ex. Seeing what his brother went through and having his own past with women. His own mother, the first woman in his life, had set the bar extremely low on expectations. Rourke resigned to keeping his distance except for a night or two. Then fucking Macy came into his sights.

  He snorted. “Already got enough pain in the ass women in my life.” He finished his beer and tossed the bottle in the trash. When he turned back, his sister was fidgeting with her fingers. He knew what was coming next and didn’t make her suffer through it.

  “What do ya need?”

  She sighed. “He won’t get paid until the end of next week, and I only got ten hours at the bookstore last week.”

  Trini deserved better than the dumb fuck she married. The man was a perpetual screw-up, and as much as Rourke would love to see the man in a shallow grave, he had to bite back his words and actions. After all, he was Emme’s dad.

  The only positive thing he could say about either of their parents was that they were both consistent in setting a low standard for relationship expectations. Their father had set the bar equally low for every man in his sister’s life.

  “How much?” He reached for his wallet in his back pocket. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped her out, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. It bothered him she was forced to ask for his help because her husband wouldn’t take care of her. But he was more than happy to help Trini. She and Emme were the only family he had besides the club.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled and turned her gaze to Emme.

  It cut him deep to see her like this. He knew it weighed on her pride every time she borrowed money. If she was asking, then she needed it.

  He scoffed, trying to lighten the mood. “Fucking stop. How much?”

  She swallowed a breath and stared down at the counter. His sister had fallen on hard times and worked her ass off, and unfortunately, she loved a loser. Having her stand in front of him asking for money was hard on her, and he wouldn’t add to it.

  “A hundred, and I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

  “Trini, I eat at your house three times a week, you don’t have to pay back shit.” He tossed three fifties on the counter, and before she could protest the extra cash, he interrupted her. “Take it, get her,” he lifted his chin toward Emme, “ice cream or some shit.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, then glanced up. “So, um, did ya hear about Dad?”

  Fuck me. Rourke leaned back against the counter and sighed heavily. This week would continue in its downward spiral. He bowed his head and stared at the tear in the beat-up linoleum. He braced himself. “What?”

  “He’s getting out next month.”

  He jerked his gaze, and she forced an obnoxious grin.

  “Early release. He can’t seem to follow the rules outside, but in jail, he’s a model prisoner. Who woulda thought?”

  Their father had been in and out of prison since Rourke’s childhood. He was unstable, unreliable, and an asshole. Luckily, his time in prison had made his appearances in their life scarce. It was a blessing. Rourke’s adolescence consisted of school, working, and taking care of his sisters because their parents weren’t around. It was hard and stressful, especially on the shoulders of a fifteen-year-old. As much as he struggled, and at times hated his life, he wouldn’t have traded it for the alternative. Being raised by a man like his father would have ruined all their lives.

  “You’re shitting me, right?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Wish I was…Daddy’s coming home.” Her tone was laced with sarcasm. “Oh, and he’s getting married.” Trini widened her eyes. “Our soon-to-be new mommy is five years older than you.”

  Oh, fuck me.

  “Can I call her grandma?” Emme asked.

  Rourke smirked. Poor kid was dying for a grandma. With Rourke’s own mother completely out of the picture and her other dead, the kid was sure she was missing out. Meeting up with his dad might be worth it to see Emme call his new thirty-five-year old bride “Grandma.”

  Trini burst out laughing. “Yes, you can.”

  Rourke chuckled. Thank God for his sister and Emme. Otherwise, he would have disowned his family years ago. Those two were the only good who came from the long line of deadbeats, drunks, assholes, and addicts. It was a wonder he and Trini had turned out to be halfway decent people, her more so than him. The odds had certainly been stacked against them.

  She sighed, and he knew her well enough; she had more to share.

  “What?”

  She shrugged, glancing over to Emme. “Said he wanted to go see Skyla, bring flowers.”

  Rourke tightened his fists. Had he been alone and not in the presence of his niece, he probably would have thrown something against the wall. The bastard had no right to even think of Skyla, let alone visit her and play the grieving father. Fuck him.

  “Now he wants to see her? When she’s six feet under? Where the fuck was he five years ago?” He clamped his lips. His t
one rose, and he needed to remember the five-year-old watching him.

  Trini walked over and grabbed his hand, clasping it into hers.

  “Don’t defend him,” he warned.

  Their father was indefensible. He’d been a fuck up for as long as Rourke could remember. He came in and out of their lives throughout his entire childhood. He was a man who’d swoop in with empty promises and sneak away in the middle of the night. Rourke had caught on fast to who his father really was. It had taken longer for his younger sisters to see it. Skyla, especially. She held out hope until her last breath. He was haunted by the memory of her asking for their dad. He had looked her in the eye, swearing he’d be there, knowing it was bullshit. The promise kept her fighting. His father was Skyla’s last dying wish, and the bastard never showed up.

  “I wasn’t going to, Rourke. I was just going to say he’s not part of our lives. If he wants to go to her grave and play dad, let him.” She shrugged. “We know the truth, we see beyond his bullshit. We both know who was there for her when it mattered.”

  His guilt over his middle sister would forever plague him. He’d done his best to be there for his sisters their whole lives. For a tough as Rourke was, he was no match for Skyla’s meth addiction.

  He snorted. “Yeah, a lot of good it fucking did her.”

  “Stop, Rourke,” she snapped, and he gazed up to see tears rimming her eyes. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. You did everything you could.” She swallowed hard, her voice filled with raw emotion. “I did everything I could.”

  He yanked her into his chest and hugged her tight. “I know you did.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, and they remained embraced that way for a few minutes. They were all they had left. Skyla, the sister between them, had gotten hooked on drugs in her teens. She was in and out of rehabs and facilities for four years. When she died, he didn’t even recognize the shell of the woman she’d become. It tore him apart, knowing he couldn’t help her.