Not Your Hero (2 page)

“Can you pull around to the other side? My tenant parks there.”

She shrugs and puts the car back into gear. “Sure.”

Waiting in my open doorway, I watch her sway her hips up the porch stairs. When she brushes past me, I shut the door. Walking to the couch, I lower my pants and boxers. No use in wasting time. She follows my lead and pulls her barely there dress over her head.

My dick rises to attention when I see her naked.

“No underwear?” I ask and raise an eyebrow.

“Nope. I was looking to get laid tonight, so I wanted to make it as easy as possible,” she says matter-of-factly.

She straddles me and lifts my shirt over my head. I reach over to the end table and open the drawer. She laughs and grabs a condom out. Just as quickly, I take it from her. I have to put it on, and I always use my own. Don’t trust the bitches.

“You ready?” I ask.

“I’m ready.”

“Good.”

After rolling on the latex, I lift her by her hips, and she grabs my dick. Slowly, she sinks down on me, and I close my eyes. I don’t like to watch, I just want to feel. It only takes a few minutes before she starts riding me harder, and I pump up into her, frantically chasing the moment where there is no past, no pain, and no memories.

We climax at the same time, and she rolls off me, clearly not wanting more. Thank God.

I wordlessly pull my jeans back on, toss the condom in the trash, and grab a couple bottles of water out of the fridge.

I’m surprised to find her already dressed when I get back to the living room. I hand her the water, and she takes it, gulping half the bottle. “Thanks. And thanks for the lay.”

I laugh at her boldness. “Not a problem.”

“Listen, I’m not looking for anything more than the occasional fuck, so if you ever wanna hook up again, call me.” She hands me a card, and I shove it in my pocket.

“I’ll walk you out.”

She nods, and when we get to her car, I open the door for her. I should at least act like a gentleman.

“Wow. I really am a whore. I don’t even know your name.” She laughs.

My brows furrow. “You’re not a whore. You’re a woman who knows what you want, and you took it. Nothing wrong with that. And I’m Sam.”

“Well, Sam. I’m Lisa. Have a good night.” She shuts her door and pulls away, just as Courtney pulls in her spot.
Crap.
I don’t want to deal with her. I just got done forgetting the way she felt with her tits pressed against my back.

Since I’m walking across the street right past her car, I can’t very well ignore her. I open her door and take a step back when the streetlight reflects a cut on her face. An unwelcomed rage courses through my bones at the marks on her face. There’s no more make-up on, and despite the dried blood, she looks so much better with a clean face.

“Hey,” I say cautiously.

“Hi, Sam.” She steps out and winces when her foot touches the ground, then lifts it up again, grabbing onto the doorframe.

“What happened?”

“Umm, just got into a little scuffle at work.” She gingerly walks forward, and I shut the car door. When the locks beep, she tries to walk to the sidewalk but ends up lifting her left foot and hopping on her right.

“Courtney, let me help you.”

“No. I’m fine. Thanks, though.” She continues hopping, and I stand in the street watching until she reaches the steps. I should walk right past her. Ignore her independent ass. Fuck it.

I jog to her, and without warning, I scoop her up in my arms. I forgot that I’m not wearing a shirt. She realizes it at the same time I do because she immediately retracts her hand.

“Sorry about that,” I say.

“I’m fine, Sam. Really.”

“You’re not. Let me at least get you up the steps.”

I might be an asshole, but I’m not gonna watch as she struggles.

Arriving on our shared porch, I set her down, and she leans on the house for support.

“What do you mean by a scuffle?”

“I work at a bar.”
So that’s what she tells people. “
One of the customers got a little grabby, and I fell to the floor, twisted my ankle, and scraped my cheek. No big deal.” She waves me off, but there’s something in her eyes. Shame, maybe?

Protectiveness rises in my chest, and the unfamiliar feeling pisses me off. I was there. I saw what kind of ‘customers’ she’s talking about.

“What the fuck? Did someone kick his ass?” I would have. No, I wouldn’t have let it get that far in the first place. She’s a nice lady; she doesn’t need that shit.

“Yeah. Well, security escorted him out. It’s fine. Stuff like this happens working in a st- a bar.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Thanks for carrying me. I need to go ice it though, so . . .”

“Yeah. Have a good night.”

“Thanks.”

She unlocks the door and hobbles in. Before she can close it, I call for her. “Hey, Courtney?”

She sticks her head through the crack and raises her eyebrows.

I take a deep breath before saying, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“’Kay. Thanks.” Then she shuts the door and I walk into my house.

What in the fuck did I just do?

2

Courtney

“HOLY COW.” I LEAN against the door and rest a hand on my rapidly beating heart. His bare chest is about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. All muscular and tan. And his eyes. Those amazing ice blue colored eyes actually looked concerned.

“Hi, Court.”

I shake my head out of the fog and smile at my friend, as well as one of my babysitters, Mona. She used to be a stripper at Club X. Lamest name for a strip club I’ve ever heard, but Tony, the owner, says ‘X marks the spot.’ Whatever that means.

Mona graduated from college and quit stripping the day she got her degree. Now she’s a registered nurse and my closest friend.

“Oh, no. What happened to you?” She rushes to my side and starts poking and prodding.

I push her hands away. “Stop. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. What in the hell happened?” She wraps my arm around her shoulder and leads me to the couch. Gently setting me down, she lifts my leg and puts it on top of a pillow. “Hold that thought.” Rustling sounds from the kitchen, and a moment later, she’s back with a baggie of ice and my first aid kit.

“Well? I thought Tony was hiring more security.”

“He did.” I flinch when she applies pressure to my scraped cheek. “I was leaning on the table so some guy could get the shot glass from my cleavage, and when he leaned down, he grabbed my boobs. I tried to push him off, but the table tilted and I fell. Somehow, I twisted my ankle and cut my face.”

“Oh, Court. Why do you let them do that? I hated being on the floor. The guys were worse than when you were dancing, thinking they could cop a feel all the time.”

“Because. Every time I do, it’s fifty bucks.”

She gives me a sympathetic smile and nods in understanding.

“How was Ben?”

“Good. He couldn’t stop talking about Sam. Says he’s the ‘coolest guy ever’.”

“Shit.”
Yeah, coolest and sexiest.
I rub my temples. “Can you get me some Tylenol?”

“Already did. Here.” She hands me the tablets, and I grab an old bottle of water from the coffee table to swallow them down.

“He’s always over there. I know Sam’s just being nice, but it’s gotta get annoying after a while. Every time Ben runs to his garage, I go and tell him that he needs to leave Sam alone, but Sam always says, ‘He’s fine, Courtney,’ and waves me off.”

“I’ve only met the guy a couple of times, but he seems like kind of an ass. A hot ass, but not one to beat around the bush.”

“He’s not an ass.” He’s kind and sweet. He plays with Ben and he helps me. He is not an ass; he’s everything I want in a man.

“All I’m saying is that if Sam didn’t want Ben over there, I don’t think he would let him stay.”

“I guess.”

We both yawn then laugh. “Do you want to crash here? Or are you gonna go home?”

“I’ll go home.”

I get up and hop to the door, using the wall for support.

“What are you doing? Go put your leg back up.”

“I need to lock the chain.”

“How in the hell did you even get to the house?”

“Oh, umm.” My body heats thinking about it. “Sam helped.”

“What?” she yells. “Spill it, girlfriend.”

“It’s not a big deal. He was walking his latest conquest to her car, and when he saw me struggling, he carried me up the stairs.” I shrug like it’s nothing, even though my body was on fire in his arms.

“Not a big deal?” She stops at the door and rubs her hands together. “I bet he smelled good. I always imagine him smelling good.”

Laughing at her antics, I nod. “Yeah, actually he did. Like, I don’t know . . . manly, I guess. Not like the fake cologne guys at the club wear. It was refreshing.”

“Yummy. How did he carry you? Like bridal style? Or did he throw you over his shoulder?”

“Bridal style,” I sigh.

“Eek!” She claps her hands and jumps up and down.

“Stop. As I said, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Whatever you say, lady.” She rolls her eyes and turns the knob. “Call me tomorrow.”

“I will. Thanks for watching him.”

I shut and lock the door, hooking the chain as an extra precaution. On the way to bed, I grab the baggie of ice and limp my way to Ben’s room. I peek through the crack at my little boy. I wish I could spend more time with him, but I have to pay the bills, so I have to work . . . a lot.

Finally making it to the sanctuary of my room, I get undressed and fall face first onto my memory foam mattress. The one and only splurge I bought for myself. Thoughts of being safe and secure in Sam’s arms lull me to sleep.

* * *

Annoying bird chirping wakes me from a restless night’s sleep. Sam has this huge line of trees in the middle of the yard, and as beautiful as it is, I’d like to chop them down so I wouldn’t be woken up so damn early.

Rolling over, I look at my alarm clock and gasp when I see it’s 8:49. It’s Saturday, so Ben doesn’t have school, but he’s usually up by seven. I push off the bed and yelp when my foot hits the ground. I forgot about that.

Gingerly, I walk to his room as quick as I can, excited that I get to wake him up this morning. He’s always coming into my room and jumping on my bed, so this will be fun. I can’t jump on his bed right now, but I can shake the crap out of it.

When I get to his room, his door is open, and his bed empty. You know that moment before you feel like you’re going to vomit, when your stomach is in your throat? That’s what I feel like right now. Something is not right.

“Ben! Ben!” I yell, running through the house. Millions of thoughts race through my mind and my heart is in my throat. Adrenaline makes the throbbing pain in my ankle a dull ache, and I collapse against the wall when I see a chair by the open front door. “Oh, my God.”

I run to the porch and scream, “Benjamin!” Not even using the steps, I jump off and run around the house yelling for my son. When I turn the corner, Sam walks out of the garage.

“Court-”

“Ben!” I yell, “He’s missing!”

Just then, Ben’s little blond head pokes around Sam’s leg. Relief floods my system, and I collapse on the ground, taking a few shuddering breaths so I don’t pass out. My hands shake as I wipe the tears from my eyes. Ben runs to me and lands in my lap, moisture in his eyes as well. “I’m sorry, Mommy.” He knows he messed up.

I don’t have it in me to yell at him right now; all I know is my baby’s safe. I squeeze him tight to my chest and cry in respite.

His small voice is hesitant. “I just wanted to play with Sam.”

“Why don’t you go get your tools, buddy?”

I look up at Sam, having forgotten he was still here. A pained expression crosses his face, and Ben nods at him before giving me a kiss and walking to the garage to grab his stuff.

“Courtney, I’m sorry. He told me that you knew he was over here.”

“It’s not y-your fault.” I can’t stop crying. That’s the worst feeling in the world—not knowing where your kid is. It tears you apart and makes you question your entire life in a split second. It’s downright terrifying.

Ben comes back with his plastic toolbox, and Sam ruffles his hair. “Why don’t you go back to your house, buddy? Wait in your room for your mom to come talk to you, all right?”

“Okay.” Ben hangs his head, and before he can walk away, Sam squats down so he’s eye level with him. “Don’t you
ever
leave your house again without your mother knowing where you are.”

Ben nods and runs away, lip trembling from the sternness in Sam’s voice. I even hold my breath when the rumble passes through my ears. Not from fear, but from feeling, for a brief moment, that I have a partner in this, that I’m not alone.

Sam stands and runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck, I feel like an asshole.”

“It’s not your fault. He pushed a chair to the front door to undo the chain lock. He knows he’s not supposed to do that.” His back is to me and I stand, squeezing my eyes as pain lances through my leg. The adrenaline has worn off and my ankle throbs.

I look down and my cheeks heat. I’m only wearing my boy shorts and a tank top. Sam turns and stills. His eyes rake down my body, and I bite my lip under his scrutiny. When they land back on my face, he steps closer and runs a finger down my cheek. I thought the way I felt in his arms last night was hot, but being the subject of his desire is like being in the middle of a fire. It’s been almost six years since a man has touched me outside of drunk idiots at the club. I lean into his hand, and he backs away, making me stumble on my bad foot.

“Shit,” I swear and jump around until he steadies me with strong hands on my shoulders.

Then he turns and walks away. Leaving me to limp back to my house alone.

Sam

I’m such a dick. I should know better than to believe a five-year-old kid. Especially when he was still wearing his pajamas. Courtney would never let him out of the house like that. What the fuck do I care? She’s just a tenant, and he’s her kid. That’s it.

Damn, her body though. I’ve never seen a more perfect hourglass shape in my life. I want to rip that damn excuse for sleep attire off and throw her on the ground while I drill into her.