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

by Scarlet, Simone

  He pointed to the TV screen. “Just watch!”

  “Dude!” Rob shook his head. “You’re nuts. Superman could use his laser vision to lobotomize Batman – while he was in fucking orbit.” He snorted. “That’s why Marvel is better than DC. Characters like Superman are way overpowered.”

  “Marvel? Better than DC?” Clark banged his hand on the table, and looked up at Ava – who was standing quietly in the doorway. “Tell this man to get the fuck out of my house, Ava!”

  He was screaming, but Ava saw his eyes flash happily. Against all the odds, once they’d sat down and started talking, Clark and Rob had actually got on.

  Ava’s shoulders relaxed, and she took a long, deep, blissful breath. That, at least, was one emotional issue she didn’t need to deal with.

  And, as she accepted that, the rest of them came crashing down on her like a tsunami.

  “I-I’m going to bed,” she struggled to say, looking across the room at the two men as they ribbed each other good-naturedly. “You two boys promise not to stay up too late, okay?”

  But, if the truth was told, she would be grateful for having that big, cool, dark bed entirely to herself for as long as possible.

  Chapter Forty Two

  Brandon

  Brandon hammered through his morning classes pretty much on autopilot.

  He grinned and nodded at the moms who turned up for his 5am cardio kickboxing class, but his eyes were like mirrors when they looked back up at him. He couldn’t even recall the small talk he made with them.

  Exhausted and aching, he gritted his teeth as he forced his bruised muscles through the motions needed for the kickboxing class – and one of his longer-standing class attendees even pointed out that he was ‘going easy’ on them.

  But for Brandon, there was nothing easy about that morning.

  When he was done having to play nice with his early bird class attendees, Brandon staggered into the kids playroom and slumped, like a corpse, onto the couch.

  He didn’t just look like a corpse. He felt like one, too.

  Absolutely dead inside.

  Fuck, he felt horrible.

  He hadn’t just fucked things up with Mia beyond repair – he’d also hurt Ava; and that was what really pained him.

  Ava had been the best thing in his life recently; and he wasn’t even talking about the sex. In fact, that was almost like a separate part of their relationship; like a scratch that needed to be itched.

  The burning need inside of him that Ava had really fulfilled was friendship.

  And he’d fucked that up. And he couldn’t forgive himself.

  * * *

  At a little past nine in the morning, the door of the karate center swung open, and Brandon clambered off the couch to see who it was. Classes didn’t begin until eleven – he should have been alone for at least another hour.

  Staggering barefoot into the reception area, the bleary-eyed instructor looked up, and found Ava settling herself behind the reception desk, and opening up her spreadsheet of leads to call.

  “A-Ava?” Brandon blinked. “W-what are you doing here?”

  Ava looked up. Her brown eyes were narrow.

  “I work here,” she explained coolly.

  “B-but I thought… After last night…”

  “I’m not Mia, B” Ava hissed. “Just because I’m pissed at you, it doesn’t mean I’m going to walk out on you.” She sniffed angrily. “After all, we’re doing all this to save the karate school, right?”

  Brandon stood there, unable to find words.

  Ava shook her head.

  Pushing her chair back, she stepped over to where Brandon was standing, and placed her palm on his chest.

  Looking up into his bleary eyes, Ava explained.

  “I told you a few nights ago that if you love somebody, you let them follow their dreams. Well, now I’m telling you that if you’re friends with somebody, you support them.”

  And then she added, “Even if they’re a piece of shit.”

  “Ouch,” Brandon breathed.

  Ava pulled her hand away, and headed back to the reception desk.

  “I’m here to answer the phones, so you can teach classes and spar with Rob. In the meantime, I’m going to call these leads, and help get your school finances back in the black.”

  And then Ava narrowed her eyes, and growled, “And if you know what’s good for you, you’re not going to say a fucking word to me while I do it.”

  Chapter Forty Three

  Brandon

  At lunchtime, Rob turned up in his loud and burbling Trans Am. He came swaggering into the karate school in a pair of stars and stripes training pants – the same pair the martial arts instructor wore in Napoleon Dynamite.

  “Hey, sexy,” he winked at Ava, and she rolled her eyes at him from behind the reception desk.

  Then Rob found Brandon, shadow-boxing in the studio, and barked: “You ready to get beat, bro?”

  Brandon wasn’t in much of a mood for Rob’s flippancy. Snarling, he turned around and nodded. “Let’s get started.”

  Rob snorted, and pulled on his pair of gloves.

  Right at that moment, Brandon hated Rob – and he hated how irrational that was. Ava’s ex-boyfriend was here for his benefit. Rob was sacrificing his own time and energy to help Brandon succeed. The irritation Brandon felt – at being whipped seemingly effortlessly by this veteran fighter – was both irrational and ungrateful.

  But he couldn’t shake it.

  So, instead, he decided to channel it.

  After stretching and warm-ups, Brandon and Rob stepped onto the vinyl mats, and patted gloves to begin.

  And this time, Brandon had something to prove.

  He launched himself at Rob like a pile-driver, throwing a cannonade of punches that sent the smaller fighter reeling.

  Rob actually laughed in glee as he blocked the punches, and unsuccessfully tried to throw a few back.

  “That’s the stuff, Bran!” Rob grinned. “Damn! Keep tha…Ummph!”

  The ‘ummph’ was from Brandon’s fist landing solidly on Rob’s jaw.

  The fighter known as ‘Thor’ staggered back, and shook his head.

  When he reared back up, fists raised defensively, the smile was gone and there was an icy focus in the Norwegian’s blue eyes.

  Brandon grinned. Rob had the taste of blood in his mouth.

  Rob launched the next assault with some Muay Thai kicks that Brandon struggled to block. Then he came in punching, and Brandon staggered back.

  The karate instructor knew he hit harder, but Rob was faster and more accurate, and had a longer reach.

  But that wasn’t fazing Brandon.

  After launching another hail of punches in Rob’s direction, Brandon went in for the take-down. He wrapped his beefy arms around Rob’s neck, and pulled the smaller man into a bear-hug. Then, with Rob’s face crushed to his chest, Brandon jumped cleanly off the ground and wrapped both his thick legs around the smaller fighter’s waist.

  Rob was strong – but he wasn’t able to support a 235lb man clinging to him like a monkey. They both went crashing down onto the mats, Rob crushing Brandon underneath him.

  But that had been Brandon’s plan all along.

  He tightened his legs around Rob’s waist, and arched his back. That exposed Rob’s face, and Brandon threw three hard punches that left the Norwegian stunned.

  Reflex kicked in, and Rob arched his own back. Still trapped by Brandon’s vice-like legs, he was able to at least pull his head out of the reach of Brandon’s fists.

  This was where the chess-like strategy came in.

  Brandon went from arching his back to a crunch, and that yanked Rob back towards him, and straight into range of his fists.

  It was a classic kimura lock, from Jiu-Jitsu, with a bit of Krav Maga street fighting brutality thrown into the mix.

  Rob reacted by wrapping his arms around Brandon’s neck, and burying his head into the big man’s sweaty chest – protecting himself from fur
ther punches.

  Then they struggled.

  Brandon worked on pulling Rob off his chest, and back into a good position to use as a punching bag.

  Rob, meanwhile, struggled to escape the steely clasp of Brandon’s muscular legs.

  He wriggled, and writhed, and tried to hook his knee into Brandon’s thigh.

  Brandon struggled to stop him.

  For a long, sweaty, grunting minute the two men fought. There was something almost obscene about it. If Ava hadn’t been so pissed at him, part of Brandon wondered if she’d be turned on by watching.

  But eventually, Brandon weakened; and Rob got his knee in between the vice-like grip of Brandon’s legs.

  Like opening an oyster shell, Rob forced Brandon’s legs open; and then he managed to hook his knee into the bigger man’s inner thigh.

  A shift of weight pinned Brandon’s thigh on the mats; and as Rob sunk his weight into the point of his knee, Brandon felt like a burning skewer had been forced through his flesh.

  Rob grinned, and doubled-down. A knee in the inner thigh hits one of the most painful nerves, and as Rob focused on that, it forced Brandon to slacken his grip on Rob’s shoulders.

  Like a striking cougar, Rob managed to grab Brandon’s arm. Then he curled his entire body like a nutcracker, and once again Brandon’s arm threatened to pop straight out of its socket.

  This time, Brandon wasn’t too proud to tap out.

  Hammering his fingers on the mat, Brandon struggled to endure a few more seconds of agony – and then finally felt Rob release him.

  Exhausted, and sweaty, Brandon flopped down onto the mats and struggled to fill his lungs with oxygen.

  Rob rolled off him, panting and gasping.

  “O-okay,” after a few minutes, Brandon struggled to sit up. He looked across the mats, and where Rob was lying. “You win.”

  Rob laughed hawkishly.

  Struggling to sit up, Rob reached over and offered Brandon his hand.

  “Respect,” he said, as Brandon shook it.

  “You didn’t make it easy for me that time.” Rob touched his lip, and it came away red with blood. “If you can bring that intensity to the octagon, we might just have something to work with.”

  Chapter Forty Four

  Ava

  It took four days before Ava would speak to Brandon again.

  With typical bluntness, Ava waited until Brandon was in the reception area, pouring himself a glass of water from the cooler, and then called out, “I’m still mad at you.”

  Brandon turned around, startled. For the last few days, Ava had answered the phones and called her leads and acted like Brandon had been totally invisible.

  Brandon, in return, had tried to keep out of her way – spending most of his time in the studio, either teaching classes or sparring with Rob.

  But now she was talking to him again.

  “Still mad,” she repeated. “Just so you know,” Ava added, as she organized the mail.

  Brandon stood there silently for a few seconds. And then, finally, he murmured, “I don’t blame you.”

  Ava looked up.

  She looked left and right – making sure the karate center was truly deserted. It was, since Rob was off getting them some post-sparring lunch.

  “I can put up with a lot of shit, Bran,” Ava growled. “I never wanted an affair. I never wanted you to be my boyfriend.” She shrugged. “Shit, I didn’t want anything from you, except what happened.”

  Then she narrowed her eyes.

  “But you made me feel like a fucking cum-dumpster, Brandon.”

  Brandon’s eyes widened.

  “I mean it,” Ava snarled. “Because I didn’t put out for you – in my own fucking kitchen, no less – you just decided to come here and get your rocks off with Mia? Even though she’d fucking walked out on you? And didn’t even want you to try to save this school?”

  She shook her head.

  “You’re a fucking dick, Brandon.”

  Brandon gulped dryly.

  “Ava,” he started. She just ‘hurumphed’ and went back to her paperwork.

  “Ava,” Brandon repeated. “Calling her was stupid. Really fucking stupid. But it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t going to do anything with her.”

  “The way your pants were hanging open, I don’t think I believe that.”

  Brandon’s cheeks burned red.

  “Look, it doesn’t matter,” Ava shuffled papers theatrically. “It’s not like I have any claim to you.” She sniffed. “I’m married.” And then she looked up, into his eyes. “Whatever we had is over. I’m only doing this now because we’re friends.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “This is what friends do, Brandon. Even if the ‘friend’ they’re doing it for is a fucking dick.”

  Brandon said nothing.

  Ava had turned up, and kept on working, and done everything she’d promised she’d do, despite what had happened.

  Her giving him a hard time – especially a hard time he deserved – was a small price to pay.

  “You know what, Ava?” Brandon said. She didn’t look up. “You fucking humble me.”

  That’s when Ava paused.

  She looked up, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “I look at the way you’ve dealt with all this, and it shows me what real friendship is,” Brandon admitted. “And it reminds me that I don’t deserve it.”

  “Well then, you know what?” Ava challenged. “Why don’t you be the kind of man who does deserve it?”

  And that was probably the cruelest, and the truest thing she’d ever said to him.

  Chapter Forty Five

  Ava

  The sound of punching, kicking and grunting soon became the soundtrack to Ava’s life.

  She’d head to BB Martial Arts Center just after nine, when Harley had been safely loaded onto the bus and Lex had been dropped off at the Montesorri school.

  That would be the stretch of the day in which Brandon didn’t run classes – and he and Rob would focus on pounding the snot out of each other.

  Most of the time, she’d focus on making calls – and by the end of the second week, she’d managed to get thirty new kids to try out classes, and recruited twelve paid-up adults for Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

  But sometimes, between calls, she’d get up, and walk to the glass window looking into the studio. Standing there, she’d watch the two men as they kicked, punched and wrestled with each other.

  She watched Rob’s lean, tanned, sexy body writhe against Brandon’s big, pale, bear-like bulk. She didn’t mind admitting, it made her a little hot under the collar. At the wickedest moments, she even wondered how it would feel to be pinned between her two former lovers.

  But then she shivered, and shook her head, and got back to work; ashamed of herself for such thoughts.

  * * *

  After another couple of days, when she’d cooled down enough to actually speak to Brandon again, Ava stepped into the office and asked frostily, “How’s it going?”

  Brandon was icing his elbow, and a rolled up tissue was shoved into one bloody nostril.

  “Your ex-boyfriend is going at me like I was the fat kid in high school,” he complained. “At this rate, I’m not sure I’m going to last until the fight next week.”

  Ava snorted.

  “I’ve hated you so much this week, I’ve kind of enjoyed watching him beat the crap out of you.”

  Brandon didn’t know how to reply to that.

  “Listen, I thought you might want to see the numbers.” She tossed over a printout of the monthly subscriptions. “You’ve seen all the extra kids in class.”

  “And Krav Maga is booked up,” Brandon grinned. “If Rob leaves me physically able to teach it, I’m thinking of running an extra two classes a week.”

  “Look at the figure at the bottom.”

  Brandon peered down at the monthly total. His eyes widened.

  “Before you take out my commission,” Ava told him, “you’re b
reaking even.” She put her hands on her curvy hips. “And I’ll tell you what: I’ll let you pay me later if it helps you keep this place next month.”

  Brandon gulped, and blinked water out of his eyes.

  “Ava,” he breathed. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

  “You can say: ‘I’ll pay you when I can.’” She replied icily. “Or, failing that, how about ‘thank you’?”

  But Brandon did more than that. He got up from behind his desk, and staggered over to Ava, and wrapped his arms around her.

  Ava found herself crushed in his strong arms. For a moment, her anger softened a little, and she closed her eyes and breathed in his sweaty, musky scent and – to her shame – felt an illicit throb between her legs.

  And then Brandon released her, and held her shoulders.

  He looked down into her eyes, and Ava was surprised to see tears rolling down his cheeks.

  “I’m such a fucking idiot,” he told her. “I can’t believe I fucked things up between us.” Turning, Brandon angrily kicked his garbage can, and it clattered across the room.

  Ava didn’t know what to say.

  She desperately didn’t want to say what came out of her mouth next – but she couldn’t help herself.

  “It’s okay, Bran.”

  It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay. As long as she lived, she’d never forget that feeling in the pit of her stomach when she’d walked in on Brandon and Mia.

  But there was a lot of shit she’d had to swallow over the years. That was just part of who she was. Sometimes she lied and said everything was okay, when it was all crashing down around her.

  And sometimes, she got rewarded for that.

  This time, when she saw the look of relief and calm wash over Brandon’s face, it felt like her sweet lie had almost been worth saying.

  If not for her, for Brandon.

  “Well, listen, Ava,” Brandon promised, tears rolling down his cheeks at her forgiveness. “I’ll fucking tell you one thing.”