Smash: A Stepbrother MMA Romance (Includes bonus novel Rock Hard!)

by Hamel, B. B.

  I fucking needed her again, that was for sure. My time back home was supposed to be all about debauchery and catching up on lost time, but as soon as I had laid eyes on Alex again, I’d known that shit was done. I knew what I really wanted.

  It was her lips, wrapped around my cock. I wanted to hear her pant my name, to feel her body stiffen as she came, over and over.

  Except she was my wife and my fucking stepsister.

  How could so much change? I go away into the jungle for one year and suddenly my shit is all blown up.

  I wasn’t the marriage type. I wasn’t interested in having babies with her, moving out to a house with a white picket fence, none of that bullshit. But I was interested in fucking her sweet pussy rough and deep. Finally having her completely.

  And plus, what else was I going to do? I had no other plans or prospects, not yet at least. When my new stepfather suggested that I move in with them, well, it just seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. So why the fuck not? I hadn’t lived with Cindy in years, but that was fine. Frank’s house was fucking enormous, so I doubted I’d even run into her.

  Best of all, though, Alexa’s room was right next door. I could practically hear her panting my name already through the thin walls.

  Alexa didn’t emerge from her room for the rest of the night, and that was fine with me. I was too busy unpacking my shit to really care what she was up to. I had plenty of time to tease my new stepsister, or maybe I should think of her as my new wife? Either way, I would get what I wanted soon enough.

  First, I needed a workout.

  I dipped down and grunted, finishing up my set. My body was covered in sweat as I caught my breath, changing the song on my phone. The music blared through the buds in my ears.

  Frank had a decent gym down in his basement. It wasn’t exactly professional quality by any means, but he did have a nice set of machines and free weights. There was enough to get my lifting routine in and then some. It made sense that he had a gym, considering how fit the man was for his age.

  As I began to cool down, something caught my eye over near the stairs. I looked up and saw Alexa waving at me.

  I pulled the buds from my ears. “What’s up, sis?” I said.

  “Don’t call me that,” she grumbled as she came downstairs.

  She was wearing a thin pair of short cotton shorts and a sweatshirt. Her hair was all disheveled, and she looked like she had just woken up from a nap. And all I could think about was fucking her up against the mirror, making her watch as I fucked her tight pussy deep.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked her. “Come down to sweat with me?”

  “No, thanks. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “If this is about marriage, I’m not interested.”

  She made a face, and I had to bit my tongue to keep from laughing at her. “This isn’t about the fact that we’re married. Well, it is, but not exactly.”

  I leaned up against the wall and crossed my arms. “Spill it.”

  “Did your mom talk about our parents and their jobs with you at all?”

  “Not really. Can’t say I’m interested.”

  “Well, try to be. Apparently their marriage is some huge scandal or whatever.”

  “Because Cindy’s company bought Frank’s?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Get to the part where I should give a shit, sis.” I loved the look on her face, pure annoyance.

  “You should care because she’s your mother.”

  I rolled my eyes at that. “You don’t know Cindy very well yet, but she’s not exactly the nurturing type.”

  She was silent for a second. “Yeah, maybe I can see that.”

  “Cindy and me aren’t on the best terms.”

  “So why are you even staying here, then?”

  “Because I need a place to stay while I get my fighting career going again.”

  “Don’t you have savings?”

  I laughed, shaking my head. How naïve was this girl?

  “Savings are for people that know they’re going to be around in a year, sis. I put my body on the line for a living. Planning for the future is tough when you’re not sure you have one.”

  She frowned at that. “Seems pretty crazy to me.”

  “Maybe,” I said, moving toward her, “but you’ve never felt what it’s like in the ring.”

  “I’ve seen it on TV. Looks like it hurts.”

  “Hurts like hell,” I said, stopping right near her. I could tell her breath started coming quicker. “But I feel more alive in there than I do any other time. I don’t care about the past or the future; in the ring, it’s just my opponent and me. It’s pure, fast, and dangerous.”

  “Not my kind of thing,” she said.

  I wanted to tip her chin back and bite her lip. Maybe I’d teach her to make it her sort of thing. In fact, I could see it being something she enjoyed, maybe even loved.

  “Yeah, well, that’s fine.”

  She shook her head, stepping away. “Whatever. The reason I’m here is to tell you not to tell anyone about what happened between us.”

  “Why? Embarrassed?”

  “Our parents don’t need another scandal. It could ruin them.”

  “Can’t say I care all that much, honestly. No offense. Your dad seems like a nice enough guy, but my mom has never given me a reason to give a shit.”

  “Do it for me, then,” she said, exasperated.

  “What’s in it for me?” I asked, smirking at her.

  “I won’t tell anyone what a big fucking asshole you are,” she snapped.

  “That’s no secret, sis.”

  “Just don’t talk about it, okay?”

  I shrugged, turning away from her. “Sure. Whatever you say.” It didn’t matter to me one way or the other; I just loved giving her a hard time.

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  I stripped off my shirt and began to towel off. I caught her staring at me out of the corner of my eye but didn’t say anything. I wanted her to enjoy the show. It was obvious how much she wanted me, too, by the way she reacted every time I so much as came near her.

  She may have acted like I was the biggest dick in the world, but she wanted my big dick, and I knew it.

  “Still on for tomorrow night?” I asked her.

  She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah.”

  “See you then.” I gathered up my stuff.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Taking a shower. Care to join me?”

  She blushed, looking away. “No, thanks.”

  “You sure? I’d love to tongue your lovely little pussy while the warm water runs down your body.”

  She bit her lip again and then turned and left the basement without another word.

  I watched her go, grinning hugely.

  The next day, I was too busy calling up my contacts in the fighting world to bother with Alexa. I found a nice spot up on the roof deck in the sun, set up my laptop and phone, and began to make my calls.

  Back before I left for Thailand, I had a pretty decent career. Promoters were calling me up all the time, begging me to fight random guys all the time. I was lucky enough to get to be a little selective with who I fought and when. Now, though, I needed to take whatever fights I could get, prove that I was still worth watching.

  That was something I liked about fighting. Nobody gave a shit who you were or what you looked like. If you could fuck some guy up with your bare hands, then you were good to go. Skill was the only thing that people looked for, and I had plenty of it.

  Unfortunately, I had to prove that still. Even though I had just gotten back from training with Skad, which was a huge boost to my profile, I couldn’t just jump into the ring with some big-name fighter.

  After maybe an hour or two, I finally had a match set up for the next week. Normally fighters wanted more time to study tape and shit like that, but I wanted to get into the ring as soon as possible. My manager wasn’t too happy about that decision, but he could go fu
ck himself. The fight was with some young guy who probably considered himself lucky to get into the ring with someone a little more established, like me.

  But that made it a dangerous match. I didn’t know the kid and he didn’t know me, so we were going into this blind.

  As I sat there Googling his name, Frank slowly came up the steps.

  “There you are,” he said. I looked up from my laptop.

  “Frank.” I nodded to him.

  He stood near the railing, looking out over the city. “Nice view, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” I said.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something,” Frank said, sitting down at the table with me.

  “Go for it.” I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.

  “Cole, I’m glad you’re staying here with us. The house is usually very empty for Alex since I work so much.”

  “I’m happy to help.”

  “It’s just, I want to make this work, with your mother. But things are difficult. We have a lot of outside stress.”

  I nodded, frowning. “Alex mentioned some of that.”

  “Yes. Well. Your mother wanted me to say . . .” He looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “She wanted me to say that we hope you’ll try and help out, while you’re around.”

  “Frank, did Cindy send you up here to try and tell me to behave?”

  He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not like that.”

  I held up a hand. “Yes, it is. And it’s fine. I don’t blame you one bit.”

  “I do mean it when I say I’m glad you’re staying. I hope you’ll at least try and be friends with Alex.”

  “I’m sure me and your daughter will be very close.”

  “And try to get along with your mom, too.”

  “That I can’t promise.”

  He nodded. “Good enough.” He stood up to leave. “Sorry to have bothered you. Consider this matter closed.”

  He turned to leave. “Frank?” I said. He looked back at me. “Don’t be my mother’s errand boy. She doesn’t respect that.”

  He opened his mouth as if he was going to respond but decided against it. Instead he just smiled and left.

  I watched him go, curious. Most men would have gotten pissed off at a comment like that, but he seemed to genuinely take it to heart. Or at least he did on the outside.

  Frank was an interesting person. Maybe he wasn’t a total douchebag. Then again, he was married to my mother, so who could say?

  I checked the time on my laptop and cursed. It was much later than I had expected. I shut the lid and went back into the house.

  I had a date with my stepsister soon.

  I was leaning up against a tree when Alex came walking down the stoop.

  For a second, I felt my heart almost skip a beat. She was wearing this short, tight dress that clung to her hips and heels that made her ass look like fire. She wasn’t showing much skin, but the dress was tight enough to show off her perfect fucking tits and body. Frankly, she looked incredible, and I had the urge to take her right there on the street.

  “Sis,” I said. “You look nice.”

  She frowned at me. “You could at least dress up.”

  I looked down at myself. I was wearing a pair of jeans, boots, a black T-shirt, and an old denim jacket. “What’s wrong with this?”

  “You look like a greaser or something.”

  I grinned. “Maybe I am.”

  “Whatever.” She looked around. “Where’s the car? Your mom said it was waiting out front for us.”

  “About that,” I said. “We’re not taking the car.”

  “I am not walking in these heels.”

  “Don’t worry, princess. We’re taking my bike.”

  She gaped at me for a second and then shook her head. “No. No way. I’m not getting on the back of that thing.”

  I walked over to it and tossed her a helmet. She caught it, but barely. “Come on. I thought you liked motorcycles?”

  She walked over. “That was just for show,” she hissed. “Don’t be a jerk.”

  “Better get on,” I whispered. “Your father is watching us from the window.”

  She moved to look but stopped herself. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Fine,” she said, and she slipped the helmet on without another word.

  I climbed onto the bike and she got on the back.

  “Hold on tight,” I said as I kicked the bike to life. “Now wave to daddy,” I said.

  We waved to her father as I slowly pulled the bike out into traffic.

  She gripped my body like steel. I could tell she had never been on the back of a bike before in her life, which only made it that much better. Unfortunately, the restaurant wasn’t too far away, and so I couldn’t really open it up and get some speed at any point.

  Still, I was surprised that she had gotten on without too much of a fight. Sure, she didn’t instantly jump on the back, but who would in her situation? I was just impressed that she didn’t throw a fit. I had her pegged as a rich little daddy’s girl, but maybe there was more lurking under that exterior.

  That fucking too damn sexy exterior.

  I parked the bike and we walked a half block to the restaurant. It was an expensive place, clearly new, and was some kind of Italian fusion place. I didn’t much care since anything was better than the shit I had eaten in Thailand. We were seated pretty fast and had drinks in front of us almost faster.

  “Not bad,” I said, looking around. “Cindy knows how to pick them.” I sipped my whisky.

  “I can’t believe we even got into this place. It just opened last week, and the wait list is months out.”

  I snorted, shaking my head. “What a waste.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mom could probably make anything happen, but she wastes that shit on good reservations.”

  “This is really nice of her, you know.”

  “It is, but don’t get used to it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I considered telling her the whole truth about Cindy. I considered telling her that Cindy had been a controlling psycho my entire childhood, barely letting me out of the house. I was homeschooled and didn’t have any friends my own age for a very long time. She had been oppressive and insane ever since my dad had died of cancer when I was two, probably because she was afraid of losing me, at least on some level.

  I didn’t know if she was insanely controlling because of his death or if she had always been that way. I suspected it had always been there and was just aggravated by his death. That controlling drive served her very well in her business positions, but it made her a monster at home.

  But Alexa didn’t need to know any of that. It was just some shitty, sad story from my past. I got out of that house when I turned eighteen, and I never bothered looking back.

  “Cindy can be tough,” I said simply.

  “She’s the CEO of a huge company. Of course she can.”

  I just shrugged and sipped my whisky, not bothering to argue.

  “Anyway,” I said, “here’s to you and me. Husband and wife, finally back together.”

  She made a face and sighed, clinking her glass to mine. “I actually have a surprise for you,” she said.

  “Great. Is it your panties?”

  “What? No, it’s not my panties.”

  “That’s a shame. If it were, I’d take you back into that fancy bathroom and fuck you until we got kicked out or you came, whichever happened first.”

  She ignored me, digging into her bag. She slowly pulled out a thick, crinkled-looking piece of paper.

  “Here it is,” she said triumphantly.

  “What’s that?”

  “Proof.” She held it out.

  I took it and unfolded it. I looked at it for half a second before bursting out laughing. It was an official marriage license, signed by the two of us plus the priest from Thailand.

  “What’s funny?” she said, annoyed.

  “Alex,” I said, ha
nding her back the paper, “I know we’re married.”

  She stared at me for a second. “What?”

  “I believed you as soon as you showed this to me on your laptop.”

  “You asshole!”

  She was furious, but I couldn’t help but grin at her. I couldn’t tell if she was going to storm out of the restaurant and get a cab back home, throw her drink in my face, or both. I took a deep sip of my whisky, savoring the delicious taste since I suspected it was going to be my last drink before I got tossed out.

  Instead, she didn’t make a scene. She took another deep breath and put the paper back into her bag.

  “What now?” she asked.

  I blinked, surprised. If I were her, I would have been cursing me out, maybe throwing a punch or two. Instead, she was rolling with it.

  This was the second time she’d impressed me tonight.

  Before I could answer, the waiter returned and took our orders. When he was gone, she looked at me expectantly.

  “I’m not sure what you want,” I said.

  “A divorce, obviously. Let’s fix this stupid mistake.”

  “Mistake?” I grunted. “You’re lucky to be married to me.”

  She held back a smile. “Yeah, right. You’re just an arrogant jerk.”

  “An arrogant jerk that can get you off with his pinky finger.”

  “Arrogant and cocky.”

  “Cocky for good reason.” I leaned forward, grinning at her. “Remember our wedding night?”

  She blushed. “I remember.”

  “You know what I can make your body feel, sis.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “Cut it out, Cole. I’m not interested.”

  “Your loss then.”

  “Are you always like this? Or did the jungle mess your brain up?”

  I laughed. “The jungle just made me hard. Though not as hard as you make me.”

  She rolled her eyes, groaning. “Good one.”

  “Thank you.”

  The waiter returned and refreshed our drinks. I was feeling looser, lighter, and I could tell she was too.

  “Back to that divorce.”