HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  Without breaking the kiss, needing her, I reach for her leggings, glad that they don’t have buttons or zippers. I’m too fucking impatient right now for that shit.

  Tugging them down, I kick off my boots at the same time and undo my own pants, shoving them and my underwear far enough past my hips that my cock is freed.

  “Fuck, this is going to be hard and fast, sugar,” I warn.

  “Yes,” she hisses, throwing her head back.

  Lifting her legs, I push them back, exposing her center for me. She’s pink, soft, and judging by the glistening wetness, she’s fucking ready. I don’t want to cause her any discomfort, so I reach between us, sliding two fingers inside of her soft cunt, just to ensure that she is indeed as ready as I think that she is.

  We groan together as soon as I fill her, curling my fingers inside of her. “You’re so fucking wet,” I announce.

  She doesn’t respond, but I watch as her face turns pink from my observation. Removing my fingers from inside of her, I replace them with the head of my cock. My dick twitches, the anticipation of being inside of her almost too much. It’s been days, which has, in turn, felt like goddamn weeks.

  Exeter lifts her hands, wrapping her fingers around my biceps and in one swift move, I slam inside of her to the hilt. She lets out a gasp as I rest against the backs of her thighs a little more. I can’t kiss her like this, but fuck me if I can’t stare into those eyes, those orbs that fucking consume me.

  A declaration is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back. I won’t tell her that I love her, not until she knows the truth about me and not until I know all of her secrets. I won’t do that to either of us, no matter how fucking much I want to say those words.

  I move inside of her, feeling everything that she has to offer, my eyes never leaving hers. I can feel her cunt flutter as her panting breaths fill the air around us. I moan, knowing that she’s so close only makes my lower back start to tingle with anticipation.

  “Touch yourself,” I rasp.

  With zero hesitation, her hand leaves my bicep and flies between her legs. Tipping my head, my teeth sink into my lower lip as I watch her bring herself toward her orgasm. It’s beautiful, the way she plays that clit with expertise, knowing exactly how to get herself off.

  Within seconds, her pussy clamps down around me and my balls draw up, my cum leaving my body and filling hers. My entire body rolls in a shudder at the exhilarating sensation.

  EXETER

  Wyatt looks over at me, a grin on his lips and I know what he’s done. He had sex with me to relax me. It wasn’t the wrong thing to do. I was wound up from my father’s failed attempt to abuse me, and then again from my telling him about my past. He seemed not to react much, as if he wasn’t really hearing me, but maybe he was, maybe he just didn’t know what to say to me.

  “Ready?” he asks as he shifts the truck into park.

  I look over to the house. It’s a ranch house, probably built in the seventies, but well maintained. There is about an acre of land around it, all well-manicured green lush grass and bright flowers. It’s in the most prestigious side of town, or at least it used to be.

  It’s still a desirable neighborhood. I know because when I was a teenager, I would ride over to Emily’s on my bike and we would come here. We rode around and pretended this is where our houses were, and we would come up with stories about what our lives would be like if we had been born into families like the ones around here instead of our own shit-tastic families.

  But to answer Wyatt’s question. No. No, I am certainly not ready to meet his mama and daddy who live on Bluebonnet Drive, where he was most likely raised. If there was ever a moment that I thought Wyatt and I were complete polar opposites, it’s right here—right now.

  “Looks like your MawMaw is already here,” he murmurs, lifting his chin toward the house in front of us.

  Sure enough, parked against the curb is my grandmother’s car. Shit. I can’t back down now, she’s already here. She’d box my ears and tan my hide if I ran away now. She doesn’t drive much, but apparently today she felt it necessary.

  “Okay, let’s do this.”

  “Exeter,” Wyatt calls out.

  With my hand on the door handle, I freeze and look over my shoulder at him.

  “It’s going to be just fine, sugar. They’re excited as fuck to meet you, and remember, they don’t know any details.”

  I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I open the door, but I don’t slide out of the pickup. In fact, I wonder how I’m going to get down without flashing the world my pink panties. Wyatt appears in front of me, his eyes on my lap and a grin on his face. I can see his white teeth through his dark beard, and I know that his smile is wide, and at my expense.

  “Problem, sugar?” he asks.

  Rolling my eyes, I start to get down when his hands quickly fly to my waist. Instead of allowing me to take a step down, he just picks me up and then sets me down on the sidewalk.

  “Wyatt,” I breathe.

  His eyes are focused on mine, his head dipped, and his smile immediately fades as I sway toward him. “Sugar. I don’t know how I just fucked you two hours ago, and I want to be inside of you right fucking now,” he groans.

  “I was going to say you were a gentleman, but I don’t think that you are,” I exhale.

  “Damn straight, I’m not.” His mouth gently touches mine, his fingers flex against my waist, and I know that right now he’s holding back, his restraint is almost painful I’m sure. “Let’s get inside before I fuck you on my childhood front lawn.”

  Without another word, his hand wraps around mine and he gently tugs me toward the walkway. I don’t know what to expect when I walk into this house. I have no clue what is about to happen, especially with MawMaw in attendance, but I’m about to find out, because before I know it, Wyatt opens the door and traipses into the house, his hand still firmly wrapped around my own.

  Chapter Twenty

  WYATT

  My father is sitting in the living room when we walk in hand-in-hand. Exeter’s grandmother is sitting on the sofa, a glass of Mama’s sweet tea in her hand. They both look at us when we enter the room. I watch as Exeter’s MawMaw’s eyes soften at the sight of her and she slowly stands to her feet. She takes a step toward her, then wraps her arms around her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug.

  “I never thought he would come for you,” she whispers just loud enough for us to hear.

  “No more,” I grunt.

  She lifts her head from Exeter, her weathered gaze finding mine and she presses her lips together before she gives me a curt nod. “Never again. I messed up, for years. It’s done,” she agrees.

  Exeter doesn’t know what we talked about when I paid the old woman a visit. But part of what I said was that she no longer has to live in fear, and she never has to give that fuck a dime again. His free ride is over, her being terrorized is over, too.

  I’ve already called Robby down at the sheriff’s office and let him know everything I was aware of in the situation. He can’t do anything right now, but since the shit with Rylan and Channing, he’s a little more proactive on things like this now. Especially, since it’s me.

  “Now, what can I get you to drink, darlin’?” my dad says, interrupting us.

  Exeter’s grandmother takes a step back, wiping the tears from her eyes. Exeter turns to my father, her smile bright and beautiful, hiding the anguish that I know she feels inside.

  “I’m Exeter,” she introduces.

  “Harlan, darlin’,” he says, extending his hand to shake hers.

  I watch as her fingers fit into his hand and he gives it a gentle shake. “Sweet tea?” he asks her.

  “That would be perfect, sir,” she says softly.

  He snorts. “No ma’ams and sirs in this house, Exeter. This is family, unless you’re in trouble, then you can add the ma’am and sir.” He winks.

  Exeter smiles as I slip my hand around her waist and tug her gently against my side. “I said
ma’am and sir a lot growin’ up,” I admit.

  “He sure as shit did,” my dad says with a bark of laughter. “Wyatt?” he asks.

  I guide Exeter over to the sofa so that she can sit next to her grandmother. “I’ll come get a beer, say hey to Mama.”

  “You best,” he calls out as he begins to walk into the kitchen.

  Once I’m inside of the kitchen, my dad already has a glass and is filling it with my mom’s famous sweet tea. All southern women think their sweet tea is famous. I don’t correct my mama, ever, and tell her that though, I simply allow her to believe that hers is the best I’ve ever had, just like her pecan pie and anything else that comes out of her kitchen.

  “Finally,” she states, turning to face me, a wooden spoon in her hand. “It had to take a near tragedy to get you to bring your new girl here, but I can’t say I’m completely sorry for it, either.”

  I shake my head with a smile. If she knew the true circumstances, she would not be so jovial about the visit. I aim to keep Mama in the dark though, it’s better that way. She’s lived her own hells, she doesn’t need to relive them with my woman.

  “C’mon and meet her,” I say, lifting my chin toward the living room.

  “I think I will,” she nods.

  I make my way toward the fridge and grab a can of beer, luckily me and my dad drink the same brand. I grab one for him too and together the three of us make our way out to the living area where I know that my woman waits for us, nervous as fuck.

  My phone rings just as I’m about to make the proper introductions. Reaching into my pocket, I notice that it’s Beaumont. I almost ignore the call, but something niggles at the back of my mind that I need to take it. He never calls me.

  “I need to take this,” I say, turning around I jog out of the back of the house.

  “Beau, what’s up?” I ask as my greeting.

  I hear music in the background, it’s loud like he’s at a club or a party. “I’m coming back to town for a couple weeks. I need to get away,” he slurs.

  “Whatever you need, man,” I say, my brows furrowing.

  Why would he feel the need to tell me that he’s coming to town? He’s never informed me before, he usually just calls me when he’s been here for a few days and we meet for a drink.

  “Brother, you okay?” I ask.

  He lets out a long sigh. “I—I don’t know…” His voice trails off. “Drinks when I land?” he asks.

  “Tell me when, I want you to meet someone, officially anyway.”

  “Oh shit,” he cries. “The curvy brunette?” he asks, sounding much more excited and jubilant than he did just seconds ago.

  Chuckling, I confirm, “Yeah, Exeter.”

  “Can’t fuckin’ wait,” he states before he ends the call.

  I stare at my phone. I debate calling Ford or Louis, asking them if they’d had any strange calls from Beau, but instead, I shove my phone back in my pocket and turn toward the house. I’ll text them later, right now I need to be at my girl’s side while she meets my family.

  Fuck.

  This is it, she’s the one, I can feel it down in my goddamn bones. This is my woman, meeting her new family for the first time. The thought brings a wide smile on my face. Shit. I’m as sappy as fucking Rylan, I think to myself with a chuckle. I don’t hate it either.

  EXETER

  My eyes open with a start. My heart slams against my chest and I sit straight up in bed. I hear Wyatt grumble beneath his breath, then he cracks an eye open and looks over at me. I watch the moment he realizes that I’m sitting up, my hair and eyes equally wild. I had a nightmare. Not a dream. A nightmare.

  My father was there, except he wasn’t hurting me. He had a gun pointed to Wyatt’s face and he pulled the trigger. I woke up as soon as I heard the blast from the barrel. I couldn’t bear to see Wyatt die, not even in a nightmare.

  “Sugar, what’s wrong?” he asks, his arm sliding over my hip.

  His fingers wrap around my side as he moves a bit closer toward me. I feel his beard brush against my waist as his lips touch me there.

  Looking down, I cringe when I realize that I’m completely naked. I feel like after that dream, I need to cover up, cover everything, curl into a ball and cry. It felt so real, my emotions, the scene before me, it seemed like it was happening in real time. I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if it is some kind of premonition of what is to come.

  “Had a dream,” I murmur when his fingers squeeze my hip.

  His teeth nip my skin, his hand on my hip, gently pulling on me. Slowly, I shift down the bed until I’m lying on my back. Wyatt stretches next to me, his entire body pressing against mine. I expect him to try and talk to me about the dream, to get details and force me to work through it, but he doesn’t.

  Wyatt dips his chin, his mouth finding one of my nipples and his lips wrap around it, at the same time I feel his tongue circle the bud.

  “Wyatt,” I breathe, both of my hands diving in his hair to hold him there.

  My eyes close as my head falls backward. His fingers dance down the center of my chest, my stomach and toward my mound. Spreading my legs, I whimper when his teeth nip my nipple at the same time his fingers fill me.

  Lifting my hips, I moan at the sensation of his fingers curling inside of me. His thumb presses against my clit, firmly rubbing circles as his mouth focuses on my breast. It feels like too much and not enough all at the same time.

  My fingers tighten in his hair and I tug his head back with more force than I intend. A smile twitches on his lips as he releases my nipple.

  “Sugar?”

  I shake my head, my breath coming out in a whoosh. “I need more. I need you,” I practically plead.

  His fingers make another come-hither motion inside of me before he pulls them out, then they find my clit and he circles it with his wet fingertips. I watch as he then lifts those wet fingers to his mouth and he sucks them in deep, his eyes focused on mine, and nowhere else.

  “Please,” I beg.

  His lips twitch again, his eyes darkening at the same time and I watch as wrinkles form in his forehead, as if he’s holding himself back. He doesn’t need to. I want him—all of him. I hold my breath as he moves between my spread legs. He adjusts himself so that he’s on his knees and only then does he lean forward slightly.

  He doesn’t wrap me in his arms, his expression is primal, and I know that he’s on the edge, ready to completely lose his shit. I can’t wait. Spreading my thighs wider, I lift my hips hoping he’ll sink inside of me, immediately. He doesn’t. He lifts his hand, wrapping it around the top of the headboard, his chin dipped and his other hand at the base of his cock.

  “Lift your legs, spread,” he grinds out.

  I do what he demands. Lifting my legs, my knees come close to my chest, my eyes focused on his face. His chin is dipped and his tongue pokes out slightly as he aligns himself with my center and slowly sinks inside of me. I expect him to slam down hard, but he doesn’t.

  His other hand lifts and wraps around the top of the headboard, both arms extended above me, his knees on the bed and the only part of his body that is touching mine, aside from his cock, is the fronts of his thighs that rest against my shins.

  “You feel so fucking amazin’, Exeter. Don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but goddamn woman, you feel so damn good. Best I ever had,” he rasps.

  I bite the inside of my cheek as his eyes search mine. He pulls out of me slightly, burying himself deep with even strokes. I was on the verge before he sank inside of me, now the way he feels combined with his words, I feel so on edge that I can’t even form words.

  Wyatt doesn’t say anything else, his eyes lock with mine and he makes love to me. It’s slow and steady, his strokes even, his breathing heavy. A sheen of sweat forms on his forehead, his arms shake above me and I know that he’s holding back as much as he can.

  I don’t want him to hold back anything. Not a damn thing. I want it all. Everything he has to offer me.


  “More,” I whisper.

  His eyes close in a slow blink, then reopen and the fire behind them is beyond anything I’ve ever seen before. He rears back and thrusts forward, his hips slamming against me. He lets out a groan, and without having to ask me, without being able to control myself, I reach between my legs.

  I’m so close, but I need more. His eyes flick down to watch as he slams into me over and over, nothing but short grunts escaping his lips. A drop of sweat falls onto the center of my chest, my fingers work furiously between my legs, almost painfully against my clit.

  Gone is the sweet languid strokes, he’s fucking me now. It’s raw, pure, and perfect. This is what I needed after that nightmare. I needed the slight bite of pain, I needed to remember that we’re still alive, that he’s still alive—that we’re safe.

  “Fuck,” he roars just as my pussy clamps down around him then begins to pulse.

  I come, my entire body freezing solid. He growls as he empties himself inside of me, shuddering above me. My legs drop, I’m unable to hold them up for even a moment longer and at the same time he lowers himself against me.

  His lips find mine, his tongue slips between them and he tastes me. Middle of the night, bad breath, messy hair, sweaty body. Wyatt doesn’t care. He kisses me like he’s been dying of thirst, like this is all he’ll have to drink for the next decade, like he’ll never get enough of me.

  I fall in love with him, even more. I knew that I was falling. I tried to stop myself, but in this moment, I realize that I’ve fallen and there is no reversing that, not ever.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  WYATT

  It feels like the weeks drag. They haven’t though. My foreman keeps me updated daily on the progress of the two hurricanes growing and moving slowly toward Florida’s shoreline. If they were quickly moving, then I wouldn’t be as worried, but their snail-like speed is concerning and I have a feeling that it will hit and it will hit hard and cause major damage, times two.