HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  Taking a step back, I open my eyes again, tilting my head to the side. “You can’t fool me anymore. I’m a nurse. You think I don’t know about friction?” I ask, arching a brow.

  He chuckles. “Then you know that I’m not sick, I was born this way, I can’t help myself,” he grins.

  “You disgust me,” I hiss.

  I watch as he shifts his body, walking toward his truck, stopping, he looks back at me. He smiles, he’s like a snake, an evil snake.

  “Baby girl, I’ll have you again. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll make you remember.”

  My entire body trembles. I turn from him and hurry up my MawMaw’s steps. Rushing inside, I call out her name, only to find her in the kitchen, a glass of sweet tea in front of her. She’s sitting at the small table, and she lifts her eyes to me, wetness shimmering in them.

  “Your father was here,” she needlessly explains.

  “I know.”

  She grimaces. I wait for her to say something else, anything else, to explain what she’s so upset about, but she doesn’t speak. She just sits there, staring into her sweet tea as tears stream down her cheeks.

  “What is going on?” I softly demand.

  She shakes her head. “I-I…”

  WYATT

  The smile on Rylan’s face is ridiculous, and I’m so fucking happy for him that I find myself equally fucking ridiculous. He climbs into the pickup and looks over at me with a stupid smile.

  “You look contemplative. You were happy last week, what’s up?” he asks.

  I clear my throat, starting the engine of my truck, as I shift it into drive and head out of the yard. “Me and Exeter moved in together this weekend, temporarily,” I murmur.

  “Wyatt, you could have stayed in your house until your new one was ready,” he says, the look of almost panic crossing his features.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t want to. I want her to move into my new place with me, this way I thought she could get used to the idea,” I shrug.

  “You hardly know one another,” he points out.

  I snort. “Kind of like you and Channing?”

  “Touché.”

  Clearing my throat, I grip my steering wheel tightly. “She’s the one, but she’s so closed off, we don’t even talk. I don’t know anything about her.”

  “What do you do together then?” he asks, but I can hear the laugh in the back of his throat.

  “Shut up. In bed, we’re one hundred percent compatible. She’s sweet and kind, soft and warm. But she’s hiding shit from me, and I can’t figure it out.”

  Rylan chuckles. “Give her a minute. Channing didn’t tell me half of her shit right away. It took time and honestly, you’re going to have to tell her some of your shit too, cousin. If you want it from her, you’re going to have to give some of yourself over as well.”

  “I hate how much sense you make now that you’re sober,” I grunt, pulling up against the curb of my old house.

  It’s funny how I’ve only been moved out, officially, for one full day, and yet it doesn’t even feel like mine anymore. Technically, I still own it, but it’s theirs. It’s Rylan and Channing’s, it’s their home. Rylan slides out of the truck, his eyes finding mine.

  “Tell her your past. Tell her about Sammi. Exeter’s strong as fuck, I saw it in her when she stupidly braved that hellhole to save Channing. She can take all that bad shit.”

  “She is,” I admit with a gulp.

  Rylan closes the door and I watch as he rushes toward the front of the house. Channing opens the door before he gets there and throws her arms around his neck. I stay in my spot, my eyes taking in their intimate moment before I shift the truck into drive and drive down the street.

  I don’t head home, or back to Exeter’s, rather. I know that she isn’t there. She won’t be until tomorrow sometime, hopefully before I have to leave for work. Taking my phone from my center dash, I quickly find Ford’s number.

  “What’s up, cocksucker?” he greets.

  I snort. “You at the ranch?” I ask.

  “Where else would I be?”

  “I don’t know, you redneck fucker, maybe out diddling your cousin somewhere,” I chuckle.

  He barks out a laugh. “Nah, man, I fucked your mama earlier, so I’m sated.”

  “Your mama jokes, really? What are you, ten?”

  “They’re still classics, I don’t care what anyone says. You comin’ by?”

  “Be there in twenty.”

  I end the call and turn down one dirt road, it’s not Ford’s, but it’ll eventually lead me to his ranch. Rolling down the windows, I crank the stereo up.

  I let the eighties country music pour out of my speakers, the sun beats down, and the wind blows through the cab of my truck. This is what I’ve been missing, these back dirt roads, this quiet drive home, this sense of freedom.

  Ford’s ranch entrance comes into view and I grin. He’s got two wood poles coming up on each side, poles that I brought him, and another across the top with a small piece of metal that hangs down with his initials on it—FBM.

  Ford Buchannan Matthews.

  Fucking ridiculously long ass name.

  The cattle gate is already open, so I turn and head down the drive. He keeps saying he’s going to pave it, but I fucking doubt that he ever will. His daddy never did. The dips and holes could throw your whole fuckin’ truck out of alignment if you aren’t careful, but I think he keeps it that way so that nobody will drive down here and bother him. Nobody but me, Louis, and Beaumont that is.

  Ford is standing on the front porch of his all white farmhouse when I pull up. I take a second to admire the home. It was built by his granddaddy, they raised his father here, then later his parents moved in and raised him here. They’ve recently retired and left the whole ranch to him. A family tradition.

  Climbing out of my truck, I watch as the dirt swirls around my feet when they hit the ground. Turning toward the house, I make my way toward Ford. He holds out his hand and I grin at the silver can, one that I know is ice cold.

  “Long day?” he asks, walking over to one of the two rocking chairs.

  He sits down in one and I sit in the other. “Yeah, you?” I ask. He grunts.

  “Heard you been spending an awful lot of time with that pretty little Exeter,” he grins.

  I shake my head, wondering if there will ever be a time in this town where shit can stay private. Though I have to admit, when something is depraved or dirty, everyone oddly keeps quiet and only whispers the things, they don’t loudly boast them like they do good gossip.

  “Moved in with her until I close escrow,” I shrug.

  He whistles, sounding so much like my dad it’s eerie. “A bit soon?”

  Leaning back in the chair, I look up at the recently installed porch ceiling fan. “Probably, but I think she’s it,” I admit.

  Saying it to my dad, to Rylan, and even to Ford, doesn’t scare me. I feel nothing but peace and excitement at admitting that this girl, this woman isn’t just mine for now, but I want her to be mine forever.

  “I hope she is. You deserve happiness,” he murmurs.

  “You do too.”

  We sit in silence for a moment, then he sits up straighter and asks me if I want to see his new tractor. I spend the rest of the early evening with my friend, admiring his new tractor, then look at the changes he’s made around the ranch. We climb on his Gator and check on the cattle, the chickens, then ride on over to the pond.

  Exeter, marriage—the future—is not brought up again. Ford is in the same position as me. Stuck in a place that seems hopeless.

  My future isn’t looking so bleak anymore, and I have a feeling that Ford’s won’t be either, he’ll find someone, I can fucking feel it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  WYATT

  The house is empty when I get back from Ford’s, not that I expected Exeter to be home. I know she’s working, but I’m still oddly disappointed to be alone. Tugging my phone out of my pocket, I look at the
text message icon, my thumb hovering over it before I toss the device in the center of the bed.

  Making my way to the bathroom, I take a quick shower before I go rummaging through the fridge for something to eat. I see the leftover pizza from the other night and frown. Being here, without her, it doesn’t feel right.

  I’m falling too far for her, too damn deep into her. I know that she’s special, but she’s hiding shit. Then I think about what Ford said, how I should tell her some of my own demons. I’m not sure if I can do that, if I can come out and talk about Sammi, about our past so openly.

  Taking the pizza out of the fridge, I finish its contents before tossing the box on the counter, deciding that I’ll throw it away in the morning before I leave for work. Grabbing a can of beer, I head toward the bedroom and climb into bed.

  I close my eyes, sucking down the cold liquid, wondering how in the fuck I’m going to open up to Exeter. I don’t want to fucking open up, there’s only one day a year that I allow myself to truly think about what happened. It’s that date, the day she told me, it’s burned into my brain. Every fucking moment of that entire fucking day is one that I will never forget.

  Falling into a fitful sleep, my dreams are filled with thoughts of Sammi, of the past, of high school and the look on her face when I proposed. Then later, I dream about the way we fucked, over and over, angry with ourselves, hurt by one another, the pain never fucking leaving no matter how many years pass.

  Sammi saved both of us when she left, when she removed herself, because God knows I would have continued taking my anger out on her for the next fifteen years, or more. Tossing and turning, I eventually fall into a deep sleep.

  Something warm and wet wraps around my dick, I shift my hips, lifting them so that my cock slides into that warm, wet, heaven a little farther. Reaching forward, I tangle my fingers in soft hair and slowly open my eyes.

  It’s Exeter, her dark hair between my legs, her hands wrapped around my naked thighs. Gripping her a bit tighter, I tug her head off of my dick and watch as those blue eyes slowly lift to find mine.

  “Mornin’,” I grin.

  She smiles softly, her face turning pink. “Morning,” she breathes.

  “Want to look at you when you’re suckin’ my dick, sugar.”

  I feel her entire body shiver against my thighs. Gently, I guide her mouth back toward my cock. She opens and envelops me again, her plump lips wrapping around me, her eyes looking up at me through her lashes. She looks like a goddamn dream—my dream.

  She’s no expert, but I find that I like that. She works me, her mouth moving up and down, her hands sliding from my thighs to my hips, holding onto me as she breathes through her nose. She sucks, her cheeks hollowing each time she lifts off of me.

  Knowing that both of our tests have come back clean, a text message confirmation that Exeter sent me last night, I grin at the fact that I’ll be sinking bare inside of her in just a few seconds.

  My fingers tighten in her hair as my balls draw up, threatening to empty down her throat. I’ll come there, but not today. Pulling her off of me, I reach beneath her armpits and tug her up my body. Her legs spread and without a word, she aligns my cock against her center and sinks down, taking all of me inside of her.

  “Oh God,” she exhales once she’s fully seated.

  “Stay still,” I grind out. If she moves, I’m going to blow my load too goddamn fast.

  Reaching between her legs, my thumb finds her sweet little clit. I watch her, taking in her flushed cheeks, her rosy-tipped nipples, hard and probably aching for my mouth. Fuck. She lets out a heavy breath, inhaling deeply and exhaling, then shortly that breathing turns into panting as I work her clit.

  “I need to move,” she whimpers.

  Grinning, I pinch her clit. “No, you don’t,” I grind out.

  I can feel her cunt, the way it flutters, I know that she’s aching for more, she’s on the verge of losing control and I can’t deny that it would be beautiful to watch.

  She leans over slightly, her palms flat on either side of my head against the pillow. Her hair falls over us like a gorgeous dark curtain, those eyes focus on me and there’s something there that I haven’t seen before, something that causes me to pause.

  Using my free hand, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and gently squeeze, giving her a bit of comfort. She looks downright uneasy.

  “You close?” I ask, wondering if that’s what I’m seeing working in her gaze.

  Exeter’s teeth sink down, biting the corner of her lip and she nods once, her eyes never leaving mine. “Move, sugar,” I urge.

  She sits up, her head flying back, I swear to God she changes into a goddess before my eyes. Gone are any reservations she has, she takes from me, from my dick. She fucks me, selfishly finding her pleasure.

  It’s the most beautiful sight I think I have ever seen, every day she does something that makes me think she couldn’t get any more beautiful, and the next day she fucking tops it. Though, I’m not sure how she could top this moment right here. Free, wild, fucking spectacular.

  “Wyatt,” she cries louder than she ever has before.

  My thumb continues to work her clit, my other hand unable to leave the back of her neck, my fingers flexing, holding onto her. Her body moves, bucking and jerking above me until she tenses and her pussy squeezes my dick, strangling me, it forces my own climax in a rush. My cum fills her, my cock twitching until my balls are drained dry.

  Exeter collapses on top of me just as my cellphone’s alarm begins to sound. Reaching over, I touch the stop button before wrapping my arms around her. I feel her tits pressing against my chest, and frown at the fact that I wasn’t able to show them the attention I wanted this morning, hopefully she’s not working all night again tonight.

  “Tough night?” I ask her, my fingers sliding up and down her soft back.

  She hums. “Work was okay,” she whispers.

  “What is it then?”

  “I saw someone I didn’t want to before work. It ruined my whole night,” she confesses.

  She doesn’t tell me who, but maybe this is the beginning of her opening up for me. I’ll take whatever she gives me, especially if I don’t have to give any of myself. The realization that I’m expecting more from her than I’m willing to give and that I’m a selfish asshole is not lost on me.

  “Working tonight?” I ask her.

  She hums, her lips touching my chest just above my heart. She lifts her head, those blue eyes finding mine and she smiles slowly. “I am, my last night. Then I’m all yours for three whole days,” she breathes.

  Moving my hand from her back, I cup her cheek. “I want you naked in this bed when I get off work on your first night off. I need more than a quick fuck in the morning,” I state.

  She bites the corner of her lip, her eyes sparkling. “Are we going to eat in bed again?”

  “I’m going to,” I grunt.

  Her breath comes out in a whoosh and she releases her teeth from her lip, then smiles widely. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me either.”

  EXETER

  My eyes flutter open and I slam them back closed again when the sunshine hits me. It’s too bright, the afternoon sun is just way too intense after being in the dark all night. This morning, the second morning in a row, I woke Wyatt up using my mouth and he flipped me on my axis once again by giving me a cosmic orgasm.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I can’t deny that I’m glad to not have to work for the next couple of days. I really like the idea of waiting for Wyatt to come home from work, naked and in bed. A thrill slides throughout my entire body with anticipation of what is to come in just a few hours.

  Stretching, I let out a long yawn before I roll out of bed. I’m completely naked, something else that I’ve noticed has happened a lot since Wyatt moved in a few days ago. It seems that I’m constantly naked. I used to cover up no matter what, even if I was with a man, once the deed was done, on came my clothes.

  Except wit
h Wyatt. Naked or clothed, he makes me feel beautiful, stunning even, but especially when I’m naked, the way he looks at me is like nothing I’ve experienced before. He looks at me the way that I think that I look at him. To me, he’s too good to be true, he’s not real, and soon he’ll just disappear.

  Making my way to the bathroom, I take care of my business and then slip into the shower for a quick rinse down. I have plans for an afternoon bath, so right now I just want to wash the sleep, and sex, off of my body.

  Once I finish showering, I quickly braid my wet hair and dress in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. My first day off of work, I typically clean the trailer from top to bottom. I have a feeling that with an extra person here full-time that it will be a little dirtier than usual.

  Deciding to start in the kitchen, I freeze at the sight in front of me. There’s one of our pizza boxes from a couple nights ago sitting on the counter with beer cans set down around and on top of it. There are dirty dishes in the sink, and crumbs all over the counter.

  Wyatt is a mess.

  It shouldn’t surprise me, a single man being messy isn’t some new conundrum. However, he always seems so together, so respectful and his pickup truck is always neat and tidy.

  Taking a sweeping glance around the living room, I notice that it’s littered with pieces of Wyatt’s clothes. Discarded shirts, jeans, random socks, and even underwear are just forgotten all over the place.

  “What on earth?” I whisper.

  Biting my bottom lip, I wonder what I should do. I could grab all of his things and just place them in a neat pile and tell him to put them away, or I can just wash his clothes and not say a word.

  It feels like a thirty-year-old man should have a better grasp on keeping his shit neater though. I mean, it’s not as if his mother lived with him his entire life and he’s just moved out.