“Come for free,” he promised her. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it.”
Ava almost felt jealous of all these other women. She knew it was ridiculous – after all, she was married herself, and Brandon was just being friendly.
But for some reason, she wanted him to be friendly to her.
But, of course, you need to be careful what you wish for – because the next moment Brandon was wheeling around to Ava and smiling at her disarmingly, those brown eyes flashing above his hooked, broken nose.
“How are you doing, Ava?”
Ava blushed, and then hated herself for it.
“I-I’m fine,” she nodded. “Harley’s got her white belt class, and then Clark was going to come and pick the kids up so I could stay to do cardio kickboxing.”
“Sounds great,” Brandon winked.
And then he was gone – turning around to talk to another mom who’d just wandered in.
Ava blinked. That was it?
They’d almost kissed the other night. She’d made a wet spot on the couch after she’d gone home that night, thinking about it.
And now Brandon was going to act like that? Like nothing had happened between them?
She felt a burning emptiness in her stomach, and the irony of the situation was not lost on her.
Ava had prayed to be able to look Brandon in the eye, and for it to be like nothing had ever happened.
And she’d gotten exactly what she’d asked for.
Chapter Eleven
Brandon
She wasn’t going to even look at him?
Brandon wasn’t going to lie. He’d spent all morning dreading seeing Mrs. Cassidy again. He had no idea how Ava was going to behave – whether she was going to come in angry and pissed off at Brandon overstepping the line; or be thirsty for more.
And, instead, she did the one thing he couldn’t abide: She ignored him.
As if nothing had happened between them, Ava came waltzing in with her two kids, and sat with Lex on her knee while Harley went through her karate forms in her white belt class.
She checked her phone. She chatted to the other moms. She acted as if nothing was different at all. And while that had been exactly what Brandon had prayed would happen; he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt hit him like a katana between the ribs.
But the real pain came later – like somebody was twisting that blade inside him. After white belt class, the bell rang as the door to the karate center swung open and Ava’s husband walked in to collect the kids.
Fuuuuck.
Brandon wasn’t the jealous type. At a bear-like 240lbs, with his own business and a wall stacked with martial arts trophies, there wasn’t much a man could do to intimidate him.
But somehow, Clark Cassidy managed it without even trying.
Ava’s husband was a podgy man with a red face and slight pot- belly. Not fat – just well-fed and poorly exercised.
Thick-rimmed glasses and a reddish-brown ‘fro of hair made him look like your stereotypical nerd – and the Firefly t-shirt and cargo shorts completed the look.
But he swaggered into Brandon’s karate school like he owned the place, and his kids ran and threw their arms around him with cries of ‘daddy!’
Clark kissed Ava wetly on the mouth, and then turned and looked Brandon dead in the eye, offering him his hand.
“How are you doing, sensei?” And then he bowed theatrically, which made Brandon squirm with embarrassment.
Brandon had stared down twenty of the top MMA champions in the country over his youthful career – and this was the first time he felt like blinking.
How had this guy landed a girl like Ava?
She was beautiful, and funny, and had a curvy figure that would turn any head. And he was a chubby, goofy nerd who looked like he should be hanging around a comic convention, not a karate center.
For a guy who was used to staring down the competition, and facing off against macho guys with big attitudes and even bigger egos, Brandon was utterly confused by Clark. And he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“I’ll see you back home,” Clark kissed Ava again, and led his two kids out into the parking lot. Ava watched them go, and then turned to Brandon and said only the second thing she’d uttered to him that day:
“Ready for cardio kickboxing?”
Brandon looked down at the beautiful housewife, and he could have sworn he saw her eyes flash flirtatiously.
“Oh,” Brandon grinned, “tonight it’ll be cardio kick-your-ass.”
Chapter Twelve
Ava
When Brandon had promised that the class would be ass-kicking, he wasn’t kidding.
Sixty minutes later, after a brutal hour of kicks, punches and other acrobatic moves, Ava practically flopped onto the vinyl mats, gasping for breath.
She wasn’t the only one. The dozen other moms and students there were gasping for breath, red in the face, and generally happy that the class was over.
“Holy hell, Master Brandon,” one mom complained. “Why so tough on us tonight?”
And Brandon couldn’t help himself. He made a throwaway flirty comment like he always did – “sorry, ladies. Just working out some… frustration, if you know what I mean.”
But he was looking straight at Ava when he said it.
And she met his gaze, and for a second, electricity sizzled between then.
Ava’s face turned red. Brandon looked away sharply with a cough. Shaking his head, he hurried picking up the kickboxing gear, and did a thoroughly terrible job of acting casual.
But if any of the other moms had noticed – and Ava would have bet good money they did – none of them said anything about it.
Small talk resumed after everybody got their breath back, and people collected their coats and bags and slowly the ladies filtered out of the class.
Ava hung back.
She knew it was a dumb thing to do. She knew that Brandon ignoring her – acting as if nothing had happened – was everything she could have wished for.
But an old saying she’d read suddenly popped into her head, and achingly she acknowledged that it was true:
A woman can endure anything. Anything except indifference.
And Brandon’s indifference was like a slap in the face to her.
So as the last of the other women filtered out, Ava casually strolled to where Brandon was sitting at the reception desk, and asked him cheerfully: “So, how are the books looking?”
Brandon looked a little startled, but smiled as he saw Ava looking down at him. For a second, Ava had a crazy suspicion that maybe his indifference to her had been like hers to him – feigned.
Checking that he and Ava were alone, Brandon looked up at her and admitted, “Not so good.” But then he added cheerfully: “I might have a plan, though.”
“Oh?” Ava took that as an invitation to pull out a chair and sit down behind the reception desk with him. “What sort of plan?”
Brandon opened his mouth to tell her. He was actually excited to do so – in fact, ever since Vinnie’s visit earlier that day, he’d been burning up inside with the need to tell somebody about the possibility of stepping back into the octagon.
But the moment he opened his mouth to speak, there was a ‘ding’ as the front door of the karate center swung open.
Brandon and Ava’s heads snapped up. It was 10:15pm by then – long after the karate center was supposed to have closed.
But standing in the doorway was a small, slim woman with long, reddish hair and huge, hazel eyes.
Mia.
Ava recognized her instantly. She was another mom who brought her kids to the karate center.
The difference was that Mia taught a few classes there herself – mostly lower-level cardio kickboxing. Ava had even taken a couple of her classes, on the days Brandon taught Krav Maga.
So, by all accounts, it wasn’t necessarily weird that Mia would walk into the karate center, unannounced, long after class had ended.
But the reaction sh
e gave? When she saw Ava sitting there talking to Brandon? That was weird.
“Why, hello, Mrs. Cassidy,” Mia purred, after she’d regained her composure from discovering that Brandon wasn’t alone. “What are you doing here? Classes are over, right, B?”
Ava narrowed her eyes.
Just like some of the moms in the cardio kickboxing class had no doubt seen the sparks fly between her and Brandon, there was no mistaking the energy in the room at that moment.
Mia, for all her smiles and politeness, was clearly shocked and upset that Ava was sitting there. From the way Brandon had suddenly sat bolt-upright the moment he saw Mia walk in, Ava had a pretty good idea why.
“Good evening, Mrs. Werber,” Ava smiled sweetly. Then she added, a little venomously, “What are you doing here? Classes are over, aren’t they?”
Mia bristled when she heard that.
Both women were smiling at each other, but it was clear they had their hackles raised, like alley cats in heat.
“I just came to ask B something,” Mia growled back, forcing a smile. The way she emphasized Brandon’s nickname was practically a stamp of possession on the young karate instructor. “In fact…” She glowered at Ava. “I assume you’re leaving soon.”
As Ava looked into Mia’s flinty eyes, there was no mistaking the unspoken expectation there – ‘get the fuck out.’
The Italian in Ava snarled, and for a moment she had a mad urge not to leave – to sit there and draw out whatever the fuck was up between Mia and Brandon.
But it was late, and she hadn’t seen Clark alone since he’d flown back home from the convention. As much as the frisson of drama appealed to her – this wasn’t her circus, and Mia and Brandon certainly weren’t her monkeys.
Looking Mia squarely in the eye, Ava smiled insincerely and rose from her seat.
“You’re right,” she purred venomously. “I’m late.” Turning to Brandon, she reached out and touched the big man’s beefy shoulder possessively. “Tell me about it tomorrow.”
The reaction was perfect. Brandon nodded obliviously, and Ava was delighted to see Mia narrow her eyes, as the new arrival started wondering what the ‘it’ they would be discussing was.
Like a Hollywood movie star walking away from a theatrical explosion, Ava didn’t look back as she left the karate center and headed for her car.
But she did wonder what was up with Mia’s late-night visit – and decided then and there to find out.
Chapter Thirteen
Brandon
Mia Werber stood looking out through the glass windows of the karate center, until the tail lights of Ava’s Buick had disappeared from view.
Then, with narrow eyes and a forced smile, she turned around and said: “What was that cute little number doing staying late? Are you trying to make me jealous, B?”
Brandon’s cheeks burned pink.
“It’s nothing like that,” he told her. “Ava – Mrs. Cassidy – is just a friend. She did some bookkeeping for me the other night.”
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days?” Mia asked.
“Stop it,” Brandon snapped. “It’s not like that.”
Mia snorted derisively. Then she padded up to where Brandon was sitting, and gave one, last glance towards the window – to make sure the parking lot was truly deserted, and in darkness.
And then, lips curling, she sat down in Brandon’s lap.
She wrapped her slender arms around Brandon’s beefy neck, and looked deeply into the 25-year-old’s intense, brown eyes.
“You know,” Mia purred, wiggling her rump in Brandon’s lap, “it’s quite alright. If you want to go and stick it to that curvy little cutie, you go right ahead. I don’t have any claim on you.”
At that, Brandon groaned – but he made no move to push Mia off his lap.
“She’s probably just trying what worked for me,” Mia leaned forward, and pressed her lips again Brandon’s. With a snarl, he reached up, and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Tugging it, he kissed her back furiously.
For a moment, their lips writhed against each other – and then Mia pulled back, lips glistening, and stared mockingly into Brandon’s burning eyes.
“That little slut’s probably pulling what I did,” Mia purred, licking the taste of Brandon from her lips. “Staying late after class… Getting you alone.” She reached over and stroked Brandon’s cheek. “My poor little Bruiser doesn’t have much self-control when he’s alone with a pretty woman, does he?”
Brandon’s eyes narrowed. He made a growl deep in his throat.
“Well, let her thirsty little ass skulk off to her hubby. Tonight, I want a piece of you.” And, with that, she leaned down and kissed him again.
This time, Brandon snarled angrily. Wrapping his big hands around Mia’s waist, he hefted the slender wife off of him as if she weighed nothing – and then threw her with a thump onto the reception desk.
“Huuuungh,” Mia moaned, deliciously winded.
Brandon snarled, and yanked down his karategi. From between his legs, out sprang his thick, stubby cock.
His rough fingers curled around the waistband of Mia’s yoga pants, and he yanked them down around her thighs – taking with them her panties. With another yank, they were off entirely – sliding onto the floor from one of Mia’s ankles.
“Oooh,” Mia groaned, as she felt Brandon’s big hands wrap around her ankles, and lift her legs into the air. “Don’t bruise me, Bruiser. I don’t want my husband asking any awkward questions.”
But Brandon wasn’t listening.
Reaching down between his legs, he grabbed the root of his thick cock, and aimed it between Mia’s thighs. Almost instantly, she groaned as she felt the throbbing head of his cock press against the entrance to her wetness.
And then, without foreplay or pretense, Brandon thrust inside her.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” Mia groaned, arching her back as she felt herself stretched and filled by Brandon’s thick cock.
She reached up, to wrap her arms around the burly young man’s shoulders, and urged him to sink inside her right to the hilt.
“Now, that’s what I came here for tonight,” Mia groaned, as she finally felt Brandon bottom out inside of her. “Poor old Mike’s sitting on the couch, watching SportsCenter – and just imagine what his little wifey is up to.”
Brandon snarled, and began fucking Mia with deep, hard thrusts. The reception table creaked, as the slender wife was pounded hard across the back of it.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” Mia groaned, closing her eyes. “That’s it. Fuck me, baby.” She tightened his grip on his shoulders. “Come on… Harder…”
And Brandon snarled again, and looked down deep into Mia’s wide, hazel eyes. As she was rocked back and forth on the table, he drank her in, watching her eyes widen with each thrust.
“Oh, that’s so good,” she groaned, urging him on. “I can feel how big you are inside me.” She licked her lips. “Are you nearly ready to cum?”
Brandon hadn’t been – but the moment she said it, it tipped him over the edge. And Mia knew it.
“Come on,” she encouraged him. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel it inside me.” And then she reached up, stroked his face, and murmured, “I love you, B…”
And that’s when he lost it.
Groaning, Brandon thrust as deeply into Mia as he could, and his cock swelled as he spurted hotly inside of her.
Mia groaned as she felt herself flooded, and shuddered on the table.
“T-that’s it,” she panted, as Brandon emptied his balls inside of her. “Give it to me.” And then he collapsed cross her chest.
Mia wrapped her arms around him, stroking his thick, black hair as the bear-like young man gasped and panted.
“That’s it, baby,” she purred. “That was so good.”
For a few minutes, they lay like that. Then, with a groan, Brandon peeled himself off of her, and staggered back.
His drained cock popped from inside her. Mia groaned, as she felt
a flood of wetness gush down the crack of her ass.
“Quick! Pass me some tissues!” She giggled. “Otherwise the next time that curvy little cutie you were flirting with comes to balance your books, she’s going to wonder what the stains on your receipts are.”
Chapter Fifteen
Brandon
A few minutes later, Mia had wiped herself and pulled her yoga pants back on. She led Brandon out of the reception area, into the darkness of the studio itself, and they flopped down onto the mats.
“That was nice,” Mia breathed, reaching over to stroke Brandon’s hand.
“Did you cum?” He asked her, although he didn’t need to know the answer. Mia never came.
She shrugged non-committally.
“You know,” Brandon squeezed her hand, “I read on the Internet that if a woman can’t orgasm from sex, it’s because she doesn’t love the guy.”
Mia laughed.
“What rubbish. That’s Hollywood romantic comedy shit.”
“But you never cum…”
Mia laughed bitterly.
“Honey, I have a good time.” She squeezed his hand. “Why do you think I keep coming back?” With a sigh, she leaned over and kissed Brandon in the darkness. “What we have? It’s special.”
And then Mia admitted, “Maybe that’s why I was jealous when I saw you with Mrs. Cassidy.”
“I have no interest in Mrs. Cassidy,” Brandon said, almost believing himself.
“Well, she wants you. I can tell. I bet half the moms do – a hot, young piece of man-meat like you.”
“Well, I only want you,” Brandon growled. “I just wish it wasn’t always like this – you having to sneak out to come see me.”
Mia said nothing.
“So,” she finally said, changing the subject, “what did that dark-haired little cutie want from you, B? Was she really there to check your ledger?”
“Yes,” Brandon snapped. “Ava used to be a bookkeeper.”
“Ava is it now? No more Mrs. Cassidy?”
Brandon’s cheeks burned red, but Mia carried on flippantly.
Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter Page 3