HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  “I bet you are,” I mutter.

  He grins, his eyes never wavering from mine and the cockiness bold and obvious on his face and in his eyes. He’s teasing me, and it’s adorable. But also, I think he really does want to please me, although I’m sure any guy in the world would be more than willing to give his girl anal to, make her happy.

  I watch as he closes the book, placing it on the roof of my car, then wraps his hand around my back and pulls me against his chest. He dips his chin and his lips brush against my mouth. I keep my lips closed, but not for long. When his tongue peeks out to taste me, I can’t help but open for him.

  His tongue fills my mouth, tasting me in a couple firm strokes, then his teeth nibble my bottom lip before he breaks the kiss. He doesn’t release me, he keeps his hold on me firm as he lifts his head to look down into my eyes.

  “I’m serious, sugar. Whatever you want, I’m here to deliver,” he rumbles.

  A shiver runs throughout my entire body from his words, he’s here to deliver. I lick my just-kissed lips and then bite the inside of my cheek.

  “I’ve never done it before,” I admit. It’s the truth, I’ve never let anyone close enough to even broach the backdoor entrance. “I’ve read about it, a lot,” I admit.

  Wyatt’s smile deepens. “Does it turn you on?” he asks on a low murmur.

  My teeth sink into my bottom lip as my eyes search his own. He’s watching, waiting for me to continue, to tell him what I want and that’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

  “It’s hot to read about,” I admit.

  He hums, lowering his face and brushing his lips across mine. Then his mouth presses small kisses all the way over to my ear. “We’ll play, we’ll work up to it,” he rasps.

  Goosebumps spread out over my entire body at his devious promise. I press my thighs together, wondering if we have to eat first. I want him inside of me, I want to feel him fill my aching center. I want his promise to work up to it, all of it, everything.

  “Time to eat, sugar,” he murmurs.

  I let out a sigh as he releases me and takes a step back. “Do we have to eat now?” I chance asking.

  Wyatt’s lips twitch into a smile. “Oh yeah, waiting when we’re both craving one another is the best kind of foreplay.”

  I make a harrumph sound as I take my book from the roof of my car and walk over to the passenger side. Wrenching the door open, I reach down and grab the grocery bags that hold the ingredients for tonight’s sides, and dessert.

  Something about Wyatt bringing dessert last night made me think that he has a sweet tooth, and since I most definitely have one, I didn’t want to skip out on dessert, although I’m kind of regretting the extra course at this point. All I can think about is Wyatt, naked and moving inside of me.

  Chapter Eleven

  EXETER

  I watch Wyatt move around the grill outside. I’m trying to focus on my own task of making mashed potatoes and salad. I didn’t know what to make, but Wyatt seems like a meat and potatoes kind of man, so I make my favorite, cream cheese ranch mashed potatoes. They’re terrible for you, but they taste so sinfully good that it’s worth the calories.

  Once everything is finished, the salads are on the small dining room table, along with the warm bowl of potatoes, I lift my gaze to the sliding glass door as Wyatt walks in with a plate full of meat and garlic bread.

  “Would have smoked a brisket, but that’s a weekend thing,” he says as if he hasn’t done enough.

  “Can I get you a beer or something? I saw some in the fridge,” I ask, biting the corner of my bottom lip.

  His lips twitch into a small smile and he shakes his head once as he sets the heaping plate of meat and bread in the middle of the table.

  “Sit, let me get you a drink. You already did way too fucking much.”

  “I made potatoes and salad, it is hardly gourmet,” I state.

  He snorts. “And you put actual plates on the table, with silverware and napkins. Honest to fuck, I didn’t even know I had napkins,” he murmurs, making his way toward me.

  I freeze in my spot, my legs shaking slightly as he wraps one arm around me and tugs me against his chest. Wyatt dips his chin and his lips press against my own in a chaste kiss. “You want wine? Beer?” he mutters against my mouth.

  Frowning, I pull my head away from his slightly. “You have wine?” I ask, wondering who he bought it for.

  He really doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would happen to have a bottle of wine for himself laying around.

  “I do. It’s white, in the fridge. Go sit, I’ll bring it to you.”

  Wyatt releases me, then walks past me to the kitchen. My good mood is suddenly dampened, I make my way over to the table and sit down. Wine, napkins he didn’t know he had, matching plates and silverware. It hits me like a ton of bricks, his place has all the stamps of a woman’s presence.

  A wine glass is set down in front of me and my stomach drops. Why does he have freaking wine glasses? I realize in this very moment that I know absolutely nothing about this man, yet I’ve slept with him twice. He’s made me orgasm double that amount, and yet, I only know his first and last name.

  He sits down across from me and lifts his beer bottle. “To new beginnings,” he grins.

  I lift my glass and we clink to his toast. Taking a hearty gulp of my wine, I shiver at the dry bitterness. It’s not a sweet white wine like I typically enjoy. It tastes like the inside of an oak barrel. I hold back a cough as I start to fill my plate with food that no longer holds its appeal.

  “What’s wrong?” Wyatt asks.

  I shake my head. I don’t want to tell him, even thinking about it makes me feel insecure and really stupid. He’s got to be in his thirties, of course he would have been close with other women.

  Hell, another woman could have even lived here, and it honestly would not be my business and I would have no right to be jealous. My mind knows, but my heart, she doesn’t have the faintest clue why he would even look at another woman ever in his life. She’s a selfish beast.

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  He sits back in his chair, his eyes focused on me and looking nowhere else. He waits. Rolling my lips together, I look anywhere but his face, knowing that when I do, I’ll tell him. If I spill what I’m thinking, he’s going to know I’m crazy or at the very least, way too clingy. I have never felt this way in my entire life.

  “Exeter,” he rumbles.

  Letting out a sigh, I lift my gaze to his light brown one. “You have napkins that you didn’t know about. You have wine, and you’re definitely not a wine drinker. You have matching plates and silverware. You even have a throw blanket on your couch,” I ramble.

  His brows shoot up, almost disappearing into his hairline he raises them so high. “You don’t like it? Throw it out,” he shrugs.

  “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s the fact that you have it, and then there’s the simple fact that it bothers me at all, when it really shouldn’t.”

  “What does me having those things mean to you, sugar?” he asks, and I can’t deny that there’s a bit of humor in his voice, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.

  Narrowing my gaze on his, I lift my chin in the air, feeling even more ridiculous, but trying not to show it. “It means a woman set you up and I know it’s stupid, but I’m jealous, okay?” I snap.

  Turning my head, I look out the sliding glass door at his small backyard. I avoid his face, his gorgeous bearded face, for as long as I can. I feel his fingers, warm and firm against my bicep before I feel his lips touch the side of my neck. His mouth travels to just below my ear, where it always seems to land, and I love way too much.

  “Don’t be jealous, sugar. You’re the only woman here now,” he murmurs.

  His warm breath makes my skin break out in goosebumps, but I continue to look to the side, mainly because he’s still kissing me, and it feels so damn good. His tongue tastes my skin and I let out a sigh.

&n
bsp; “I don’t want to be, but I am,” I admit on a whisper.

  He hums, his hand sliding down my arm and moving to around my waist to cup my breast. I feel his fingers pinch my nipple from over the top of my shirt. My back automatically arches toward him, silently begging for more, so much more.

  “I’m jealous as fuck of any man who has ever touched you or even talked to you before me,” he murmurs against my skin.

  His words should be like pouring cold ice on my veins, considering the first man who touched me was my own father, but they don’t. His mouth is on me, his fingers are expertly pinching and tugging on my nipple, and all I can think about is him—needing him, wanting him—craving him.

  WYATT

  Exeter arches toward me and I want nothing more than to rip her clothes off and fuck her right here on this dining room table. I should put her out of her jealous misery and tell her the truth. The wine is Sammi’s, but the plates and napkins, the throw blanket thing, that’s all my mom. Sammi is the only woman to step foot in this house other than my mom and now, Exeter.

  My lips move from her neck, nibbling on the lobe of her ear and then I slowly release her, and reluctantly release her tit.

  “Eat, then I’ll eat you.” I grin as I slowly rise to my feet. I enjoy the moment her cheeks turn bright red from my words.

  Making my way back to my seat, I sit down and wait for her to pick up her fork and start eating. I let out a sigh of relief when she does. I take a big bite of potatoes and my heart practically stops in my chest.

  “Is there ranch in these?” I ask with a mouth full of food, looking from my plate to her.

  Her cheeks tint pink again and she nods. “Cream cheese and ranch,” she clarifies.

  “Holy fuck,” I rasp. “They’re fuckin’ heaven.”

  I watch as the worry she had just moments ago disappears and a bright, proud, smile replaces it. My own lips curve up into a smile and I return back to my plate.

  “Have you lived here long?” she asks in an attempt to make conversation.

  I nod, taking another huge mouthful of potatoes. I could eat the whole fucking bowl by myself, they’re that damn good. “Yeah, a while, but since you’ve mentioned it. I’m actually fixin’ to look at a new place tomorrow. I’d like a little land, I wondered if you’d go with me?”

  “To look at a house?” she asks breathlessly.

  Lifting my gaze to hers, I grin, “Yeah, sugar. Figure as long as shit stays good between us, you’ll be livin’ there soon enough anyway so you should like it, too.”

  She stares at me, her fork suspended in the air, a chunk of salad speared and her mouth slightly parted. I can’t stop myself from picturing my cock sliding past those pretty lips. Biting back the groan, I stab a piece of meat and shove it in my mouth before I do something stupid like ask her to suck my dick right here and now.

  “Wyatt,” she breathes. “I just, I don’t know what to say.”

  I shrug. “Say you’ll be ready when I get off work tomorrow to come with me.”

  Lifting my eyes to hers, again, I watch her. I feel like I’m always watching, waiting, to see what her reaction will be, and I find that I enjoy the wondering and the waiting. She’s beautiful in so many different ways, unique and spectacular. I want to know all of her, every fucking detail and I wish that she were a bit more open to telling me her secrets.

  “I’ll be ready,” she whispers.

  I almost don’t hear her, she says the words so unsure, so damn soft. Can’t stop the victorious smile from twitching on my lips. I’m glad she’s coming with me, and although I’m sure it will be like pulling teeth to get her opinion on both houses, I‘m going to get it, and it’s going to be fucking phenomenal.

  We finish eating, our small talk nothing but likes and dislikes when it comes to movies, music, and food. It doesn’t surprise me that she likes a mix of music, just like I’m sure it doesn’t surprise her that I only like rock and country.

  “How many girlfriends have you had? I guess we should just get this part over with,” she says, bringing her wine to her lips and taking another healthy drink. She’s already polished off half of the bottle, and I have a feeling it’s making her brave.

  I decide not to go into detail about Sammi, or our past, at least not yet. That’s a conversation that’s too fucking serious for tonight, and we’ve had enough serious talk for one evening. I lift my beer to my lips, taking my own healthy swig.

  “I’ve only had one serious girlfriend, Sammi. We’ve been off and on since we were sixteen,” I explain.

  Exeter’s tongue sneaks out and wets her parted bottom lip. “What happened?” she asks, her voice soft with a touch of concern.

  I shrug. “Teenage stupidity.”

  The truth hurts. Because teenage stupidity led to one of the most painful circumstances in my entire life. One that I’m still not healed from, and will never get over, not as long as I live. I will always have an ache for the baby that Sammi chose not to keep.

  Maybe she made the right decision, I don’t know. As angry as I am, I understand it too, and maybe that makes me the worst kind of hypocrite, because I’ve always held it against her, but if I were married to Sammi, I wouldn’t be sitting across from Exeter right now.

  “What about you?” I ask, switching the subject so that I don’t get sucked down the what if rabbit hole.

  Exeter presses her lips together, her eyes lifting to the ceiling, then coming back to me. “I’ve dated a few guys long term, but none were really all that serious.” She shrugs.

  “How?” I ask.

  Her blue eyes find mine, they focus on me and I swear to God my heart stops beating in my chest at the sadness swirling around inside of them. I want to fix it, fix her, and I know that I can’t. There is no fixing another person, I know this.

  There was no fixing me and Sammi, no matter what. There is no fixing that part of me that is dead and gone. All I can do is attempt to find my own piece of happiness. Exeter doesn’t answer me, and that’s fine. This conversation is on the edge of depressing. Standing, I hold out my hand for her.

  “Leave the dishes,” I murmur.

  She doesn’t say anything, she slips her hand in mine and slowly stands to her feet. Dipping my chin, I press my lips against hers. I taste her lips, sliding my tongue into her waiting mouth and I let the world around us slip away.

  Chapter Twelve

  EXETER

  Something warm and wet slides through my center. I moan, spreading my legs wider. I’m on my stomach, naked in Wyatt’s bed, my legs spread wide and I know that if I could see behind me, I’d get a spectacular view of his dark head of hair between my thighs.

  Swear to God he’d make a home with his face between my legs if he could, and I for one would never complain—the man has pure talent.

  Sliding to my knees, I push back, giving him more room and myself more mobility. Wyatt’s hands wrap around the sides of my thighs, tugging me against his face. His tongue flicks my clit over and over, my thighs twitching with each move.

  I let out a moan. “Yes, baby,” I whimper.

  Rocking back against him, I need more, I need everything that he could possibly give me. I’m so close, my orgasms coming quicker each time he’s between my legs, no matter how, with his mouth, hands or cock. I’ve never experienced something like this, a man, like this before.

  His fingers grip my thighs tighter, his tongue works me faster and I rock back against him one more time before I explode. I cry out into the bedding, my fingers gripping the sheets in fists. He continues to lick in long languid strokes before his teeth nip the inside of my thigh and he moves around behind me.

  I hear the telltale crinkle of the foil packet being ripped open and I presume it’s being tossed to the floor somewhere. Then I feel him against my sore center. He doesn’t slam into me like I assumed he would, instead he slowly sinks inside of me from behind. I feel the hair of his thighs against the backs of my own when he’s fully seated, my eyes close on a sigh at the way
he fills me.

  “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, sugar,” he murmurs as his hands grab ahold of my hips.

  He holds me still as he pulls almost completely out of me and then drives back inside. I never know how Wyatt is going to be from one time together to the next. He can be tender and sweet, slow and hard, or fast and furiously delicious. I love them all, I don’t have a favorite when it comes to sex with him.

  Right now, I’m halfway asleep, and this slow and hard is the most amazing feeling in the entire universe. I don’t ever want to leave this bed, and that’s dangerous, because I know that I’ll have to one day. We won’t live happily ever after, I’m not meant for him, he deserves so much better than me—so much more than I can ever offer him.

  One of his hands flattens against my lower back and then I feel his thumb slide down the crack of my ass. I let out a whimper, but push back against him. I hear him grunt above me, his thumb inching down between my ass cheeks until he finds my back entrance.

  My eyes widen when he begins to rub circles against my ass. “Wyatt,” I breathe.

  “Just playin’, sugar,” his deep gruff voice rumbles.

  I let out a sigh, forcing my body to relax and close my eyes. Wyatt continues to fuck me at the same time his thumb works circles against me. It’s too much, the sensation is like nothing I’ve felt before. I want more. I want so much more, it feels just as amazing as all of the books I’ve read have described.

  Lifting up onto my hands, I arch my back and push my ass even farther against him. He lets out a groan, his grip around my hip tightening.

  “Fuck, Exeter,” he breathes as his hand leaves my hip and slips between us. I feel his fingers touch my clit and my eyes immediately roll in the back of my head.