Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter

by Scarlet, Simone

  She felt his powerful lips on hers, and his fingers tighten around her shoulders. She swooned, closing her eyes and opening her mouth to him. He pulled her in closer as she surrendered to his kiss.

  It was amazing.

  Ava hadn’t kissed anybody except Clark in almost a decade – and she and Clark hadn’t made out like this since before Harley was born.

  The feeling of being in a big, strong, intimidating man’s arms, and surrendering to his kisses was intoxicating. The shot of whiskey and the beer hadn’t made Ava drunk – but the heat and wetness of Brandon’s lips on hers did.

  Eventually, reluctantly, Brandon pulled his lips away.

  Ava looked up at him, eyes bright and cheeks red.

  “W-wow,” she breathed.

  “I’m sorry,” Brandon let go of her arms, as if she was burning hot. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Ava reached over and squeezed his hand. His huge, bear-like paw felt so massive in comparison to her slender fingers.

  “No,” Ava reassured him. “Tonight it was fine.” She squeezed his hand. “Tonight, I wanted it too.”

  At that, Brandon took a ragged gasp, and pulled his hand away.

  “I-I’ve got to get going,” he stammered, and headed to his car.

  “Is everything okay?” Ava called after him, as Brandon pulled open the door and slid behind the seat.

  Shit… Had she ruined everything? Why was he running away?

  But then Brandon paused, half in and half out of his car. He looked up, and his eyes flashed.

  And then suddenly he was back – out of his car, striding across the asphalt between them and throwing Ava against her Buick with a thump.

  He crushed his lips against hers. His big hands slid around Ava’s waist and squeezed. He dominated her, snarling as his lips writhed against hers.

  Ava practically swooned. She felt so small, and tiny, and helpless compared to this big, strong man – and yet, at the same time, she felt powerful because of his obvious desire for her.

  Brandon reached up and squeezed one of Ava’s big, full breasts through her v-neck shirt. Ava’s panties immediately flooded.

  Pulling his mouth away, Brandon’s smoldering brown eyes bored into hers, and he murmured: “This is wrong.”

  But he kissed her again – and kept on kissing her until Ava’s phone chirped and, reluctantly, she pulled her mouth away to glance at it.

  A text message, from Clark.

  CLARK

  Where r u?

  Ava read the message, and suddenly felt a lancet of guilt through her gut. She’d been mad at Clark earlier, for being late and missing half her class.

  But that had been three hours ago – and now she was being crushed up against a car, making out with a big, sexy man who was a decade younger than her.

  She didn’t want to go. In fact, she wanted to see just where this was going to take them.

  But she had to.

  Turning back to Brandon, Ava placed her palm against his cheek, and said: “I’m sorry.”

  Brandon nodded, and stared into her eyes. “I understand,” he said. And, for a moment, Ava realized that this was the sort of stunt Mia probably pulled all the time.

  “Are we cool?” Ava asked. “When I bring the kids to the karate center tomorrow…”

  “We’re cool,” Brandon nodded. “We’re always cool.” And then he stole another kiss from her. “Until we decide not to be.”

  Ava smiled. She’d been wondering if this was a one-time thing.

  “It’s okay,” Brandon squeezed her hand. “I should get going anyway. I have a busy day tomorrow.”

  He smiled wryly at the gorgeous housewife.

  “Tomorrow, I have to sign up for a fight.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Brandon

  “Brother, you’re not going to regret this.”

  It seemed like Vinnie had been saying that ever since he’d come around with the paperwork.

  As Brandon sat at his desk, reading through the small print of the MMA fight contract, he swore he’d have paid off the entire karate school debt if he’d just got a nickel for every time Vinnie had promised, “You’re not going to regret this.”

  But for once, Brandon suspected Vinnie was right.

  The contract was straightforward, the venue was in Atlantic City, not too far away, and Brandon had three weeks to prepare.

  “They’re pulling this whole fight out of their ass,” Vinnie explained. “When they had to shitcan Hannibal Alexander, they needed an addition to the lineup for that weekend – and so that’s why they’re rushing this.”

  “It doesn’t give me much time to prepare.”

  “That’s plenty long enough,” Vinnie promised. “Especially if all you’re after is the five grand for showing up.”

  As Brandon signed the bottom of the contract, he mused about his chances in the octagon. He’d seen his opponent-to-be, James MacDonald, in a variety of fights. He was tall, fast and powerful. As good as Brandon knew he was – or, at least, had been – he would have his work cut out for him.

  “This is great,” Vinnie took the contract, and stuffed it into his briefcase. “I’m going to go and deliver these this morning.” He reached over and placed a hand on Brandon’s burly shoulder. “You’re not going to…”

  “Regret this?” Brandon rolled his eyes. “It’s too late for that now anyway. I’ve signed the damn contract.” And then he shook Vinnie’s hand, and watched the skinny Italian march out of the karate center.

  It was done.

  Leaning back in his chair, Vinnie stared at the rows and rows of trophies on the wall opposite.

  It felt weird to suddenly be back in the sport that he’d been so passionate about growing up. It was like surrendering to his destiny – like the years he’d spent at law school, and running the character center, had just been a bump in the road.

  But while he was excited to welcome MMA back into his life, Brandon had a hard question in front of him: Whether or not MMA would welcome him.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Brandon

  “You did what?”

  Mia was not happy.

  In Brandon’s defense, he hadn’t expected her to be.

  She’d turned up at midday to teach her afternoon class, and the first thing Brandon had done was call her into his office to tell her.

  After all, he’d rather she found out from him than from the MMA posters and commercials that were going to start circulating.

  “How could you, Brandon?” Mia snarled, loud enough for the office door to rattle. “I told you absolutely not. I couldn’t have made myself any more clear.”

  Brandon was standing at his desk, towering over her. But even though Mia was like a skinny twig in comparison to the bear-like karate instructor, she had a way of making him feel small that only a Jewish mother could pull off.

  “I thought…” Mia leaned closer, and whispered: “I thought you loved me.”

  “I do love you,” Brandon growled, grabbing her shoulders. “But I need to do this.”

  Mia shook off his grip. She backed away, snarling.

  “All you care is about what you want, Brandon Broderick,” she snapped. “Well, if this school is more important to you than me, so be it.” She yanked open the door to his office, and snapped: “Tell my students class is cancelled this afternoon – and every afternoon until you change your stubborn mind.”

  And then she was gone – storming out of the karate center like a skinny little hurricane. Brandon watched her go with guilt gnawing in his belly. Part of him was tempted to run out – to grab Mia and promise her whatever it would take to make her stay…

  But then he remembered what Ava had told him: That if somebody loves you, they let you follow your dreams.

  They make you follow your dreams.

  And winning this money? Saving his karate center? That was his dream – and it was like a kick to the gut that Mia couldn’t see that.

  But more than tha
t: Mia had just walked out on him – leaving him in the lurch. Here he was, hurting for money and desperate for people to sign up to his school, and Mia had thrown him under the bus.

  In a few minutes, students for Mia’s cardio kickboxing class would start filtering through that door, expecting their lesson. And while he could teach the class, that would leave the front desk unattended, the phones unmanned and everything else a mess.

  Snarling, the big fighter ran his fingers through his thick black hair. And then he had a brainwave.

  The one person he knew he could rely on.

  Reaching for the phone, he snatched it up and dialed the only person who’d truly been there for him recently.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Ava

  “You want me to do what?”

  “Man the phones for a couple of hours,” Brandon explained to Ava, down the phone. “Mia crapped out on me, so I’ve got to teach this class – but I can’t leave the front desk empty.”

  Ava was standing in the living room, watching Lex sitting cross-legged on the floor playing with his Imaginext Batman toys. In the office next door was Clark, the door open and television blaring. Harley was still in school.

  She thought about it for a minute – about Clark’s eye-rolling and pouting if she asked him to look after the kids for the afternoon.

  “But what about the business?” he’d whine.

  But Clark had just been away for three days in Ohio, and was due down to DC the next month for another comic convention. If you added up all the evenings, and weekends, and holidays that he’d worked recently, a few hours this afternoon more than made up for it.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Ava promised - and before she’d even hung up on Brandon, she was calling into the study with her cutest, sweetest, most irresistible “honey, would you?” voice.

  * * *

  Clark didn’t like it, but he knew that if he wanted to get laid any time before his trip to DC next month, he’d better keep Ava sweet, so he reluctantly agreed to watch Lex, and pick Harley up from the bus-stop later.

  And that left Ava free to head to the karate center.

  She took a few minutes to spritz herself with body spray and put on some makeup – both things she’d never normally have the energy to do. Then she clambered into her Buick, and roared off towards BB Martial Arts Center with the twin exhausts of her SUV burbling loudly.

  * * *

  “Thank God you’re here,” Brandon’s eyes flashed when Ava came stomping through the front door of the karate center. “The class is already waiting and the phone’s been ringing off the hook.”

  Brandon was looking flustered and anxious, tying closed his crumpled karategi and anxiously checking on the dozen women and moms stretching and gossiping in the studio.

  “Relax, B,” Ava grinned, ushering him out of the reception area. “Go focus on your class. I’ve got this.” Then, when Brandon hung back, she playfully swatted his ass and snapped, “Don’t make me spank you.”

  That broke Brandon out of his anxiety.

  “I don’t know,” his eyes flashed. “I might like that.”

  And then he was gone.

  Ava stood by the glass windows looking into the studio, and watched him greet the class and explain Mia’s absence.

  Having the skinny Jewish mom replaced by a burly hunk of man-meat like Brandon didn’t seem to upset any of the class attendees. In fact, some of the moms exchanged playful glances with each other – as if to say: “If I’d known he would be teaching class, I’d have shaved my legs.”

  Laughing, Ava padded to the reception desk and flopped down gratefully.

  Barely five seconds passed before the phone started ringing.

  “BB Martial Arts Center,” Ava put on her best receptionist voice.

  “Yeah,” came the reply. “This is the school run by the MMA guy, right?”

  Ava blinked.

  “I’m not sure what you’re…”

  “The MMA guy,” the guy on the other end of the phone barked. “I just saw the line-up for next month’s fight. Bruiser Broderick – he runs your school, right?” There was an anxious pause. “Does he do classes?”

  Ava blinked. Thinking on her feet, she read off the times of Brandon’s Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes, and finished with a cheery: “Hope to see you there.”

  Within minutes there had been another call.

  “Does Broderick teach MMA classes there?”

  And another.

  Soon Ava was writing down these names and telephone numbers, ready to get Brandon to call all these potential leads back. Half a dozen of them, all within a couple of hours.

  When Brandon finally emerged from class, his flat face red and sweaty, Ava looked up with wide eyes and held up the stack of Post-It notes she’d scrawled on.

  “I take it you agreed to the fight,” she beamed.

  Brandon wiped his face with a towel.

  “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “Well, you might not have told me – despite me being, like, the reason you said ‘yes’ in the first place,” Ava responded snarkily, “but word got out.” She waved the sheaf of Post-Its. “These are all leads. People are dying to come and take your classes.”

  Brandon blinked.

  Barefoot, he stepped over to the reception desk and snatched the Post-Its from Ava’s hand. She was right.

  Names and numbers. Plus questions and comments like ‘interested in MMA’ and ‘wants to take Krav Maga.’

  Brandon’s mouth felt dry.

  Each one of these Post-It notes represented a potential new customer. All he needed was thirty more to start breaking even on this place; and Ava had managed to deliver half a dozen over the course of an afternoon.

  “This is fucking amazing,” the burly instructor grinned. He looked up at Ava, and without even thinking about it, grinned and said, “I’m so excited I could kiss you.”

  And Ava looked him straight in the eye, and without missing a beat responded, “Well, why don’t you, then?”

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Ava

  The door to the storage room slammed open, and Brandon practically threw Ava onto a stack of vinyl mats in the corner.

  She landed with a thump, and gasped happily as Brandon pounced on top of her.

  They kissed, Ava crushed beneath him into the mats.

  “A-are you sure the place is empty?” Ava tore her mouth away from his, and gasped desperately as Brandon squeezed one of her ripe, full breasts through her v-neck.

  “The next class isn’t until 4:15,” Brandon snarled, hooking his fingers under Ava’s shirt, and yanking it up until it got snagged around her boobs. “We’re free and clear until then.” As he struggled to pull Ava’s t-shirt off, he added, “I also locked the front door.”

  That made Ava feel better. As did the sudden sensation of cool air on her naked torso, as Brandon tossed her t-shirt and bra across the room.

  Ava flopped back onto the mats, and the vinyl was ice-cold against her skin.

  Brandon was on top of her in a heartbeat, snarling as he kissed her, his fingers squeezing her bare breast.

  “Huuungh,” Ava groaned, arching her back.

  She was caught between arousal and embarrassment; hugely turned on by this massive, sexy man crushing her beneath him, but also insanely self-conscious of her pendulous boobs, and round stomach.

  But if Brandon cared about her popped-out-three-kids body, he didn’t mention it – and as he slid between Ava’s thighs, she felt more validation of how sexy he found her – a thick, throbbing hardness she felt even through the starchy material of his gi pants.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous…”

  He kissed her frantically, and she surrendered to his powerful lips, reaching up to wrench open his karategi jacket and slide her hands inside. His t-shirt was clammy with sweat, and clung to his thick, strong torso.

  With another snarl, Brandon hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ava’s yoga pants, and yanked
them down – taking with them her panties, too.

  “Oh, my God,” Ava cried, as she felt the cold vinyl under her now-bare ass. She giggled, as Brandon reared up and yanked her pants off her completely, sending with them her sneakers, which bounced across the floor into the corner.

  Ava was naked now, blushing as Brandon stared down at her womanly curves.

  He pulled down his gi pants, and a thick, throbbing erection bounced free.

  Ava’s eyes widened, and her pussy throbbed.

  Kicking off his pants, Brandon struggled to pull his jacket and clammy t-shirt off over his head. A moment later he was naked too, looming over Ava like a big, burly bear.

  He had a thick body – more like a powerlifter than a bodybuilder. Lying in his shadow, Ava felt tiny and powerless; and that in itself was enough to make her pussy gush.

  And then suddenly Brandon was back on top of her, his sweaty skin hot against hers.

  He kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. Her nostrils filled with the scent of him – sweat, and heat, and need. Her pussy throbbed.

  Brandon didn’t bother with pretense or foreplay. Wrenching open Ava’s thighs, he slid between them, and she groaned as she felt his hot, hard cock poke insistently at her inner thighs.

  Brandon hoisted himself up with one arm, and reached between them with the other; grasping his hard cock. He positioned it between Ava’s legs, at the entrance to her eager cunt.

  “Fuuuck,” Ava groaned, as she felt the head of his cock nuzzle between the lips of her pussy.

  Brandon looked down at her, deep into Ava’s eyes, and he thrust.

  “Fuuuuuuck,” the housewife arched her back and cried out as her pussy eagerly accepted him – inch after inch, stretching and filling her.

  Their eye-contact never broke. In fact, Brandon’s lips curled in a sadistic grin as he watched Ava’s eyes widen. She moaned as she felt herself filled by more and more of his thick, throbbing cock, until he was buried right to the hilt inside of her.