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

by Scarlet, Simone

  And, moving like he should have done when he was sparring earlier, Brandon crossed the room and threw Ava forcefully against the wall.

  Thump!

  She gasped.

  Brandon was suddenly kissing her, forcefully and desperately.

  “Mmmmph!” Her small fists beat against his big chest. “Mmmph!” And then finally she managed to push him back, and stood there gasping and spluttering.

  “Brandon! What the hell?!”

  Brandon towered over her, hands squeezing her shoulders.

  “I needed to kiss you,” he exclaimed, and then moved in to kiss her again.

  This time Ava ducked out from under him, and staggered away.

  Brandon wheeled around, but Ava held up her hand. “No.”

  She hissed loudly, acutely away that Clark was upstairs, and Rob was lounging on the couch in the next room.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Ava hissed. “This is my house.”

  Brandon paused. His eyebrows raised.

  “I… I thought…”

  “You didn’t think,” Ava hissed. She wrapped her arms around her torso. “Jesus, this is my house. That wasn’t appropriate.”

  The big man paused.

  Even though he was looming over Ava, he looked oddly childlike at that moment. His big, brown eyes were wide, and yearning, and Ava could see that he was trying as hard as he could to deal with a weird and stressful afternoon.

  But pinning her to the wall had not been how to do it.

  “Jesus, Brandon… Be cool,” Ava pleaded. She walked up to him, and placed her hand flat on his chest. “Please. This is a weird enough fucking day as it is. Don’t fuck anything up for me. Not right now.”

  And Brandon looked down at her with his soulful brown eyes, and said, “I need to go.”

  “But Rob’s pulling up those videos…”

  “I need to go,” Brandon repeated, and then he backed off, and headed for the door, and a moment later it clicked shut behind him.

  Ava heard the sound of his car starting up outside.

  She stepped up to the kitchen window and looked out onto the driveway, and saw Brandon pulling off into the distance.

  Butterflies churned in her stomach. Her fingers trembled.

  She didn’t know what to make of what had just happened.

  And she wasn’t even allowed to try and process it – because a moment later, Clark appeared at the bottom of the stairs and said snottily, “Rob better not be messing around with my pre-sets.”

  She turned and looked at her chubby husband, standing on the stairs with a foul look on his round face.

  It was ironic. He was jealous of her ex-boyfriend; who, out of all three of them, was the man she was least likely to fool around with that evening.

  She desperately wished that Clark wasn’t being an ass, and she could run over and wrap her arms around him. She needed that, after the weirdness of the stressful day.

  But despite being surrounded by two – possibly three men who claimed to have feelings for her, Ava Cassidy stood there resolutely, and irredeemably, alone.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Brandon

  Brandon’s hands were trembling as he gripped the steering wheel.

  It took him just minutes to drive to BB Martial Arts Center, and he slewed his car across two parking spots and staggered out into the cool, night air with a zillion thoughts whizzing through his head.

  What a crazy fucking night.

  Barely able to fit the key into the lock, Brandon eventually made his way through the glass doors and staggered into the cool darkness of the studio.

  There, he flopped against the wall of shatterproof glass mirrors, and sunk slowly to the vinyl mats with a sigh.

  What had he just done?

  He couldn’t believe himself.

  He’d been in Ava’s house. Her fucking house, with her husband and kids upstairs. And he’d thrown her against the wall and practically forced himself on her.

  He knew why he did it. It was more than his arm and his head that got bruised from that punishing bout with Rob. Brandon felt rocked to the very core of him – his skill in the one thing he’d spent his life doing – fighting – had suddenly been questioned.

  But it was more than that.

  He’d been in Ava’s house. He’d been surrounded by her husband, and her ex-boyfriend. And suddenly it had thrown up into sharp relief how what he thought he’d had with her was…

  He squeezed shut his eyes.

  It was nothing.

  It was like what he had with Mia. It was sweaty encounters on the floor of his karate center – and then sending his lovers back to their husbands with sticky panties and guilty smiles on their faces.

  But when it really mattered – when he was at his most vulnerable…

  He had nobody.

  Brandon let out a ragged sigh, and pulled his cell-phone from his pants. He stared at the screen for a second – at the SMS messages box, which was empty.

  Empty.

  Just like his bank balance.

  Just like his karate center.

  Just like his life.

  Butterflies churned in his stomach.

  Fingers trembling, he typed in a number he hadn’t texted in days.

  BRANDON

  Mia… You around?

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Brandon

  “Well, well, well,” said Mia Werber, as she pushed open the door to the karate center and looked at Brandon, sitting in darkness on the floor.

  “Hi, Mia,” he said softly, looking up at her.

  Mia was standing silhouetted by the streetlights in the parking lot – short, and thin, and with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

  She looked simultaneously pissed, but smug.

  “I wondered how long it would be,” the former instructor purred, as she let the door click shut behind her. She padded across the reception area, and stood looking down at Brandon as he sat slumped on the floor.

  “So,” Mia demanded. “What’s the story?”

  Brandon didn’t look at her. He just stared at his feet and murmured, “I was feeling kind of shitty, and I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  “Well,” Mia snorted. “Maybe you should have thought about that before screwing things up between us.”

  She sat down on the floor, cross-legged, opposite Brandon.

  In the darkness, her wide, anxious eyes seemed oddly endearing. She almost looked sweet.

  “What is it, B?” She asked.

  Brandon looked up, and into her eyes. He gulped dryly.

  “I don’t think I’m ready for this fight,” he admitted.

  Mia reached over and patted Brandon’s knee.

  “Well, I could have told you that, honey,” she admitted. “That’s why I didn’t want you agreeing to it in the first place.”

  Brandon bit his lip.

  He considered everything she’d said, and the resentment he’d felt towards her. His frustration that she couldn’t see why he was so desperate to do this – to do whatever it took to save his school.

  But suddenly, he wondered if he could see her point. That maybe she’d seen he wasn’t ready long before he had. Maybe it hadn’t been jealousy, or possessiveness, or whatever it was that had triggered her freakout.

  Maybe Mia had been right all along.

  As if reading his mind, a smile spread across Mia’s face. She reached over a patted Brandon’s knee.

  “So you’ll quit?”

  Brandon said nothing.

  Mia’s smile widened even further – and she lifted herself onto her knees. Then, like a predator, she crawled forward and practically into Brandon’s lap.

  “Just call it off,” she said softly, pressing her lips against his. “C’mon, baby… Things can go back to the way they were…”

  And, as she said that, Mia reached down and pressed her hand between Brandon’s legs. She squeezed, and Brandon’s cock throbbed at the pressure of her fingers through the
thin material of his pants.

  “I’ve missed you, baby,” Mia purred, kissing Brandon’s throat. She started rubbing his growing cock through his karategi pants. “And from the feel of that,” her fingers tightened on his stiffening shaft, “you missed me too.”

  “Huuungh,” Brandon groaned, as Mia’s hand slid up, and under the waistband of his pants, and suddenly her slender fingers were curling skin-to-skin around his cock. “Fuuuuuck…”

  Mia bit her lip victoriously.

  “So you’ll call up tomorrow and quit, right?” She asked, with her fingers curled tightly around his cock as she asked that, almost like an unspoken threat.

  Brandon groaned, and sunk back on the vinyl mats. He closed his eyes, soaking in the delicious softness of Mia’s lips, and the smell of her perfume, and the familiar feel of her slender fingers stroking his cock.

  It was moments like this that were some of the only ones in which he felt complete.

  But then he thought about her words… And what she expected him to do.

  Right then? Right there? Brandon would have happily given up and quit the fight. He was hurt, and scared, and humiliated by his performance against Rob that afternoon.

  But there was more at stake than just him, though.

  Brandon tried to ignore it. He tried to squeeze shut his eyes and relax into the moment and just soak in the scent of feel of Mia, as she kissed and stroked him.

  But he couldn’t.

  His eyes snapped open. He grabbed Mia’s slender wrist and pulled her hand out of his pants. Then, brusquely, he pushed the slender wife out of his lap and away from him.

  “What the hell, Bran?” Mia snarled.

  Brandon struggled to stand up.

  “I’m sorry, Mia,” he shook his head. “I can’t do this.” He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing shut his eyes. “I shouldn’t have called you.”

  Mia’s wide eyes flashed. Picking herself up off the floor, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and growled, “What the fuck is going on?”

  Brandon opened his mouth to speak – but before he could, a great swathe of light reared through the windows.

  Mia and Brandon turned and looked out of the glass windows overlooking the parking lot. The streams of light had come from a car, pulling into the lot.

  A Buick Enclave.

  Ava’s car.

  Brandon stood there, frozen in place, as he watched Ava Cassidy hop out of her tall SUV, and come running into the karate center.

  He heard the front door open, and Ava’s voice calling: “B! Brandon? I know you’re in there…”

  And then the pretty housewife came staggering into the studio, and her face lit up as she saw Brandon standing there in the near-darkness.

  But then she spotted Mia.

  Paused in the doorway, Ava saw Brandon’s former lover standing there, lipstick smudged and hair mussed up, and her eyes narrowed.

  “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  Chapter Forty

  Ava

  Staggering into the karate studio, Ava saw Mia standing there and it was like a slap in the face.

  What the fuck?

  What made it even worse was the look on Brandon’s face – like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “B-brandon,” Ava asked. “What the fuck’s going on here?”

  Mia snapped, “I could ask you the same thing.” She cocked her head on one side, and snarled, “Aren’t you a bit late for cardio kickboxing, Mrs. Cassidy?”

  That was like another slap to the face. Ava actually slumped against the doorframe when Mia growled that at her.

  But, fortunately, Mia’s focus quickly shifted to Brandon.

  Huge eyes narrowing, she said, “What’s this, B? Banging yet another mom on the side?” And when Brandon’s cheeks burned red, it was clear Mia knew that it was true.

  “Funny,” the skinny Jewish mom sneered. Turning to Ava, she hissed, “That night I found you guys having the little tête-à-tête in the reception area, I figured this would happen.” She snorted derisively. “I saw the look in your face, you cock-hungry little slut.”

  “And you,” Mia then wheeled back to Brandon. “You’re a fucking piece of shit, Brandon.” She sniffed haughtily. “You came up with such high-minded shit about how you loved me, and how you’d do anything for me.”

  Shaking her head, Mia snarled, “And how did you demonstrate that? You completely ignored me when I told you I didn’t want you fighting,” and then she pointed an accusing finger at Ava, “and when I wouldn’t sleep with you any more, you started sticking it to that chubby little whore.”

  Ava’s cheeks burned red. Chubby?

  “You go on about love, Brandon,” Mia hissed, “but you don’t even know what love is. You have no sense of loyalty, or decency.” She sniffed. “Fuck, to you women are just something to stick your dick into when you can’t be bothered to jerk off.”

  And with that, Mia strode past Brandon and Ava towards the door.

  Throwing open the big, glass door, she paused for a moment and turned back towards them.

  Looking the young karate instructor straight in the eyes, she growled, “It’s over, Brandon. Do whatever the fuck you want. Fuck whoever you want.”

  And then she sniffed angrily again, continuing, “Because let’s face it – that’s what you were going to do anyway.”

  And then she was gone – the short, skinny woman clambering into her BMW and revving the engine. Moments later, the car was peeling out of the parking lot and Brandon and Ava stood there, alone in the darkness.

  For lingering moments, there was silence.

  Then Brandon opened his mouth.

  “Ava… I…”

  “No,” Ava’s voice was sharp, and inarguable. “Whatever you were going to say, Brandon, just no.”

  She wheeled around to the looming karate instructor and pointed an accusing finger at him.

  “You know what? Everything that skinny little bitch just said is right. You’re a piece of shit, Brandon Broderick.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “You got butt-hurt, because I wouldn’t make out with you in the kitchen of my own fucking house? With my husband and kids upstairs?”

  She shook her head sadly.

  “So what did you do? Deal with it like a fucking adult?” Ava snorted. “I hardly think so. You ran away, and called that skinny whore over instead – because apparently the only way you know how to deal with your issues is to stick your dick in them.”

  Brusquely, she paced past Brandon and kicked open the glass door to the karate center.

  And then she walked out into the parking lot without looking back.

  Brandon watched her go, feeling more floored than when Rob had punched him in the face, all those hours ago.

  Chapter Forty One

  Ava

  Tears rolled down Ava’s cheeks, and she blinked desperately as she tried to focus on the road ahead.

  God, she was such a fucking idiot.

  She couldn’t believe how betrayed she felt. She couldn’t believe the way it had hit her – like she’d been kicked in the guts, the moment she’d walked into the karate school and found Mia standing there.

  Ava had known Brandon would run off to the school, and once she’d settled Clark and Rob in front of the TV, had hoped to catch him there and talk through whatever weirdness had hit him that evening.

  Hell, maybe she’d even hoped for a little more. For the chance to kiss Brandon back with the same ferocity and passion that he’d assaulted her in the kitchen with.

  But, instead, he’d called her.

  That skinny little bitch who’d walked out on Brandon when he’d needed her most. And the moment he needed a shoulder to cry on – and a hot place to stick his dick – he’d miraculously forgiven or ignored all that.

  It was exactly as Mia had told Brandon. He’d spoken about his high-minded ideals when it came to things like love, but when he was hurt and lonely, he
treated Ava and Mia like they were interchangeable; only there for him to empty his heart and his balls into.

  Ava sobbed.

  She’d jeopardized her marriage by sleeping with him. Fuck, she’d let him cum in her the other night. And she wasn’t even on the pill!

  And now he’d blown her off – like everything she’d put on the line for him meant nothing.

  God, she’d been so stupid.

  Finally, Ava made it home.

  She pulled her car into the driveway and shut off the engine – but sat in darkness squeezing the steering wheel for long, lingering minutes.

  She tried to control her ragged, gasping breath. She tried to blink away the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  She tried to keep her shit together.

  It wasn’t easy, but keeping her shit together was one of the things Ava did best. After all, she was a mom – to two needy kids, and a frequently childish, needy husband.

  And tonight, that’s who she needed to keep it together for.

  Because while she’d had her heart ripped out at the karate center, she’d have to swallow down her feelings and deal with Clark’s bullshit when she went inside.

  His insecurity. His childishness. The way he was treating Rob like the blond Californian had come to their house in New Jersey with the sole purpose of stealing Clark’s wife.

  Fuuuuck.

  She had so much going through her head right then, the thought of having to deal with Clark’s bullshit was just… tedious.

  Right at that moment, she hated him even more than she hated Brandon. And she hated Brandon pretty much more than she’d ever hated another human being in her life.

  But Ava was in for a pleasant surprise.

  Wiping her eyes for the final time, Ava stepped into the front room, and found Clark and Rob sprawled out on the couch, watching the cartoon version of The Dark Knight Returns, which Clark had been watching obsessively for the last month.

  “Superman,” Rob was sneering, sipping his wine. “It’s gotta be Superman. He’s practically a fucking God.”

  “Bullshit,” Clark barked, a big smile on his round face. “If Batman had enough time to prepare, he could overcome every one of Superman’s abilities.”