Not Your Hero (10 page)

Read Not Your Hero Online

Authors: Anna Brooks

Tags: #Romance

“Sure.” I start to sit on the couch, and before my ass hits the cushion, he’s in my lap, holding his teddy bear and snuggling close.

We watch cartoons in silence, and after her footsteps come down the stairs, I feel Courtney’s presence standing next to me but avoid looking at her, because I know her big green eyes will hold even more hope than last night. And I can’t take anymore right now. I love hanging out with Ben, but I don’t want to get her hopes up. The dishes start clinking in the kitchen, and I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing she’s not watching me with Ben anymore.

She calls us to the kitchen when the food is ready, and I have a blast putting seven different toppings on a huge Belgian waffle. It’s easy, natural, to be sitting here at their table. Is a family something I want? No. Did I used to? Yes. But these two people are making me realize what I’ve been missing out on.

* * *

The past two weeks have been stolen kisses on the porch and a few nights of sneaking in after Ben was asleep for repeats of the other night. I wanted to stay with her, wanted to sleep with her in my arms, but it would mean too much . . . I’m not ready for that again, not yet.

We’re finally going on our date tonight. Courtney had to get someone to switch shifts since she was supposed to work at X.

I catch Mona and Ben driving away as I shut my front door. When I put the key into lock the deadbolt, my hands are shaky. I haven’t been on a date in what feels like forever, and I don’t want to fuck this up. Obviously, I have trust issues and I’m working on them, but fuck, it’s hard. After what Izzy did, and not knowing the exact reasons, it makes me a cynical bastard.

I knock on Courtney’s door and rub the sweat off my palms on my jeans. She opens it and gestures inside. Damn, she’s beautiful. Half of her hair is clipped up, and she has on black jeans that are so tight they might as well be painted on with a pair of sexy ankle boots. Her white button shirt is tempting in more ways than one. I want to throw water on her so I can see through the flimsy material then unbutton each one with my teeth. No, I want to rip it in half and watch the buttons roll across the floor.

“Sam,” she calls me, and I shake my head of the fog overtaking it.

“No. ‘Cause if I go in there, we both know what’ll happen.” Sex. Dirty, hot, sweaty sex against the door. I plan on that happening, but after our date. I’ve made it this long, and for some reason, it’s more important for me to keep my word than break the promise I made just to get inside her again.

“Oh. Umm. Let me grab my purse.”

When she returns, I reach for her hand, and we walk to my truck. As soon as I pull out of the driveway, her laughter fills the cab.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just . . .” She takes a big breath and rolls down the window a bit. “I’m so nervous. Which is stupid because it’s not like I don’t know you. Or like we haven’t . . . ya know, done stuff. But this feels different, and I just. See? Talking out of my ass, I’m nervous.”

This would be a good time to tell her I am, too. But I’m a man, and there’s no fucking way that’s going to happen. Instead, I rest my hand on her thigh and give a little squeeze. “It’s just me. Don’t be nervous.”

She places her hand on top of mine and nods vigorously. “Yup. Just you. I’ll be fine.”

I thought about where to take her tonight more than I’d like to admit. When nothing seemed right, I went with the tried and true dinner and a movie.

Her legs are bouncing, and she’s fidgeting with her fingers during the whole ride. When we park at the restaurant, she meets me at the front of the truck and I stroke the side of her face. “It’s just me, babe. Relax.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

I lean down and brush my lips against hers. Relief settles in when she relaxes against me. We pull apart and walk inside then follow the hostess to a table.

The waiter comes over and does a shitty job of keeping his eyes off her tits when we order our drinks. When he comes back, she orders chicken first then I order a steak. She smirks, and I ask her what that’s all about after the waiter leaves.

“Nothing. I just knew you’d be a steak kind of guy.”

“That I am.” I take a swallow of my beer.

“So, how’d you get started with your business?”

“My grandpa. It was his, and I started working for him when I was eighteen. When he died, it was only natural that I took over.”

“Do you like it?”

I contemplate my answer for a second. “Yeah. I mean, it’s really all I know, and I like that I can make my own hours and don’t have to answer to anybody.”

“I bet.” She laughs. “Was he your dad’s father?”

“No. My mom’s.”

Luckily, the waiter brings our food so I can avoid any more questions. I don’t want to have to explain my fucked-up family to her.

“Can I get you two anything else?” he asks.

“No, thanks.”

I shake my head.

“All right. Enjoy your meals.”

The mood at the table has suddenly shifted, and I know it’s my fault. I avoid thinking about my past as much as I can. Funny how the thing that made me who I am is what I try to forget.

“Good?” I ask between bites, pointing at her chicken.

“So good,” she practically moans. “I don’t eat out much, and it’s usually easy stuff like spaghetti or mac and cheese at home.”

“Better than frozen meals.”

“Not by much.”

“You make a mean waffle.”

“I’ll admit that. I usually make them on the weekends. Ben loves them.”

We finish our meals, and the waiter comes to take our plates. I’ve been watching the little fucker all night, and when he leers at Courtney’s tits again, I can’t stay quiet. I don’t really have any claim on her, but I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch him eye fuck her.

Calmly and with control, I tell him, “The first time I saw you look at her tits, I gave you a pass, ‘cause they’re hard not to notice. But since then you’ve done it every time you came back here.” He stands up straight and makes a grab for the fork that’s about to fall off the plate because of his shaky hands. “Now you’re just pissin’ me off. So I suggest you walk the fuck away and send someone else with my bill.” I wad my napkin and toss it on my empty plate then cross my arms so I don’t reach over and slam his face on the table.

“I . . .” he stutters and walks away. Smart dude.

“Holy shit,” Courtney whispers.

Her eyes are wide, and she has a hand to her heart.

“Sorry,” I shrug.

“No . . . You’re . . . It’s fine. Thank you.”

A moment later, a young girl brings our bill, and I hand her my credit card before even looking at it. When she returns, I leave a shitty tip, sign the paper, and we walk out. Courtney hasn’t said anything else, and I worry that I’ve pissed her off.

Before I can open her door, she pushes me against the truck and essentially attacks me. Her hands fist in my hair and her hot little mouth is all over mine. I grab her hips and pull her closer, not able to get enough—never able to get enough. She steps back and looks at me. “Take me home, Sam.”

“But we’re not done with our date,” I whisper.

“We are. Please, take me home.”

I give her a hard kiss and open the door. “Don’t have to ask me three times.”

Apparently, my woman gets turned on by a guy sticking up for her. As soon as my key is in the ignition, she starts talking.

“That first time I went out with Kevin, he ordered some pasta meal, and the first thing I thought was that Sam would have ordered steak.” She leans over and grabs my hard cock. I grit my teeth together. Christ, she makes me hard. “Then the waiter there kept looking at my chest, and all I could think was Sam would say something.” She grips it harder and pumps it through my jeans.

“You’ve gotta stop, babe.” I’m worried I’ll crash the fucking truck.

“And ya know what?” She doesn’t stop, instead, leans over and licks the shell of my ear, then bites it. “You did. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. I’ve never have anyone stick up for me.”

I grab her hand, pull it off, and park in the driveway, barely missing the curb.

We make it inside her door when she drops to her knees, taking my pants with her. Not that I would protest, but if I had wanted to, she didn’t give me time. She sucks me in her hot, wet mouth, and I’m embarrassingly close to coming already.

“Where do you want me to fuck you?” I ask, leaning down to take off her shirt. I really try to undo the buttons, but I’m impatient, so I just rip it. She doesn’t slow her movements, but I pull her up, and she finishes removing her clothes. All of them. I do the same.

“Where, babe?”

“Bedroom.”

She runs ahead of me, and I smack her ass. I’m halfway up the stairs before I remember to grab a condom. I put it on as I’m jogging upstairs.

Once I reach her room, she’s already on her bed, spread open for me. In the dim light, her body is flushed, and her breaths short and ragged. So damn pretty. I kneel between her legs and align myself with her, before slowly pushing in. We both moan at the tightness and she raises her hips, urging me to continue.

I slam into her over and over. She takes each thrust and matches it with her own. God, she’s fucking perfect. Everything about her is perfect.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

I lower myself to my elbows and slow the pace. I’d make this last forever if I could. Our lips touch and fucking electricity courses through me. The sensation shocks me, and I pull back. When I open my eyes, hers are staring back at me with awe in them. I rest my forehead against hers and rock my hips, making love to the woman who is making me whole.

11

Courtney

SLIPPING OUT FROM UNDER Sam’s arm, I pad quietly to the bathroom. While I brush my teeth, I notice the sparkle in my eyes that’s been missing for a while. Last night was perfect. Not only do I feel like we took a major step in actually having a
relationship,
but the sex was amazing. I smile when I go back to my bedroom and grab some clothes to change into, and Sam still lays on his side, holding a pillow.

As quiet as I can, I take off my pajama shorts and tank top, replacing them with a comfy pair of yoga pants and a hoodie. He liked the waffles we ate the other weekend, so I start getting everything ready to make more. While I’m waiting for the batter to cook, I send a quick text to check on Ben. Mona replies that he’s still sleeping and to stop worrying.

It was difficult asking her to watch Ben because I already don’t get to see him enough as it is. When I work at X, if Mona doesn’t babysit him, I have a couple of college girls who do, and that’s usually three nights a week. It’s a hard balance, being a single mom. I have to wear multiple hats and working two jobs leaves me little time for myself. So, my dates recently have made me feel guilty. But Mona said I still need to live and be happy. And I’m glad I listened to her because Sam made last night so special.

When everything is ready, I place the food on a tray and carry it upstairs. Nudging the door open with my foot, I set the tray on the nightstand and kiss Sam’s cheek. He stirs, and without opening his eyes, reaches for me and pulls me down next to him, nuzzling my neck.

“Morning,” he says, in a sleepy sexy voice.

“Morning. I made waffles.” I grab the plate and set it next to him.

“Thanks.” He sits up and starts to eat while I open the blinds.

“So, I’ve gotta go get Ben at noon, but Mona invited us over for lunch.”

“Us?”

I turn and kneel in front of him on the bed. “Yeah. Us.” Gently, I lean over and kiss his lips. “And I told Ben I’d take him to the park to hit some balls, and he asked if you could come.” He doesn’t answer but sits back with his arms crossed, staring at me. “Sam?”

“There isn’t an
us
and . . . Christ, Courtney.” He stands and jerks on his jeans and shirt, then slams his feet into his boots. “We’re exclusively fucking, that’s it. I’m not doing shit with your friends.”

My heart drops, and I fall back on my heels. “But . . .”

“But nothing. I said I’d take you out to prove I meant what I said about not fucking anyone else. I never said I wanted to play house.”

“Oh.” I look down to hide the fact I’m blinking tears away. I’m so sick of crying in front of him. “I guess I misunderstood then.” I take a few steps closer to him. “You’re telling me you still can’t do more than exclusivity?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I thought last night changed things, thought it meant as much to him as it did to me. Guess not. “Well. That’s not happening. I told you if you can’t give me more, I don’t want anything. What happened to the last two weeks, huh? You kissing me on the porch, sneaking over at night. That all meant nothing?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah. The past two weeks I was just assuring my spot between your legs.”

My hand flies on its own accord and I slap him across the face as hard as I can. “Get out!”

“Court-”

“No!” I yell and push him out of my room. “You’re an asshole. God, how could I be so stupid?”

“I didn’t mean that.” He takes a step forward and has the nerve to look sorry.

“I don’t give a shit. I’m not a toy. Either you’re in all the way or you’re not. And obviously you’re not so get the hell out.”

He nods, and I stay upright until the front door slams then I grab the closest thing within reach, which happens to be a picture of Mona and me, and throw it across the hall, shattering the glass into thousands of pieces. Stupid me for believing there was a decent guy out there. That I actually had a chance to be more than ‘Ben’s mom.’ It’s my fault for pushing him for more. Lesson learned.

* * *

It’s been a month since I’ve talked to Sam. Mona and I are having lunch and I tell her about running into him yesterday.

“And he didn’t say anything to you? Nothing?” she asks.

“Nope. Not to me. He said hi to Ben then went inside and shut his door.”

“Damn.” When she swallows the last of her tea, she leans over the table. “And you’re

sure that you’re fine? Don’t want me to kick his ass?”

“No.” I laugh. “I’m fine. It didn’t work out, no biggie.”

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