by Hamel, B. B.
“Divorce?” I ask innocently. “What divorce?”
“Cole.”
“I’m just saying, Alex. You haven’t even given this pairing a chance.”
“There’s no pairing here. This whole thing was just one stupid, drunk mistake. It was a misunderstanding. It was . . .”
“The best orgasm you’ve ever gotten?” I offered while she searched for the word.
“Yes. I mean, no. It was regrettable.”
I smirked at her. “So the orgasm was great. You’re finally admitting it.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. There’s no orgasms here, Cole. Just a divorce.”
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “That dress screams sex to me.”
She blushed. “What about this dress?”
“Come on. You wore that dress just to tease me. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“I didn’t. It’s a nice place. I wanted to dress up.”
“Sure, you can tell yourself that. Truth is, you want me to take you back home and peel that thing off you slowly, make your toes curl with my mouth.”
“God, you’re frustrating,” she said, taking a deep sip of her wine.
“Only because I’m right.”
“You’re definitely not right.” She looked around the place and leaned in. “You’re an arrogant dick. Now, please, will you sign the divorce papers?”
I gave her a long look, leaning back in my chair. I sipped my drink and pretended to think about it. She looked at me apprehensively, clearly on the edge of her seat.
I knew what the right answer was. I should just divorce her and be done with it. I was not interested in having a wife, much less a wife that was also my fucking stepsister. Plus all the drama with our parents. I didn’t need any of that shit.
But the look on her face was just too damn much for me. She was all sex, pure fire and sin, and I couldn’t help myself when I was around her. It was too much damn fun stringing her along, playing this little game, and I didn’t want to give it up just yet. I wanted to get her to the point where she was begging me for it before I finally gave it to her.
It was a challenge. I wanted to make her mine, finally and fully mine, while denying her the thing she truly wanted. In the end, she’d get what she wanted, both the divorce and my cock. But for the time being, I wanted to see how it all played out.
“No,” I said finally. “No. I think we’ll stay married.” I smiled broadly at her. “Wife.”
The look on her face was more than worth it.
I knew it was the wrong thing. Part of me wanted to just be done with it all.
But sometimes the wrong thing was too much damn fun. And I was the type of guy to give in to the wrong thing more often than not.
Maybe I could teach her a little more about living like the future wasn’t coming. Either way, I knew it was going to be a fun summer.
Chapter Five: Alexa
I was speechless. After Cole told me that he wasn’t going to give me a divorce, that he believed me but just didn’t care, I was absolutely speechless.
I wasn’t even angry, at first. It just seemed like a nightmare, some kind of bad joke, and it didn’t register. We finished up our meal and went home without much more happening. I even barely noticed the motorcycle ride.
Back alone in my room, it began to sink in.
The asshole believed me. He had just been messing with me the whole time.
Worse, he wasn’t going to sign the papers. He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, after all the stress and worry I had gone through, after everything.
My chance to divorce him and be done with the whole embarrassing episode was right there, but he refused to help me.
Asshole. Arrogant, self-center, unbelievable dickhead.
What made him think he could say no? We weren’t married, not really. Sure, okay, legally we were married, but what did that even mean? It wasn’t like we were in love or had any sort of connection. The man had disappeared into the jungle as soon as the vacation was over, rendering any sort of relationship impossible.
Yet somehow he felt that he could call me “wife” and move into my house and boss me around. Who the hell was this guy?
Aside from my husband and my stepbrother, of course.
I was practically fuming as I sat at my desk, scrolling through Twitter.
some people need to understand BOUNDARIES I tweeted. I was so annoyed that I had succumbed to random acts of vague social media complaining. I hated when people said really generic things that were obviously aimed at specific people, but I couldn’t help myself.
sometimes what you want isn’t as important as you think it is I tweeted next. It made me feel a little bit better, even if nobody understood what I was talking about. Actually, that was part of it. I liked that I could complain about my secret in public without anyone knowing anything.
quit being so arrogant. You’re not that cool and motorcycles are stupid. #mmaisforlosers. I grinned at that one before finally hitting send.
It didn’t change anything. I was still in the same situation as I was before, except now I had just sent out some passive-aggressive and vaguely bratty messages to a bunch of strangers. Still, it made me feel a little better to vent. Maybe I needed to give Lacey a call. She knew all about my situation and definitely loved a good bitch-session. If anyone was going to appreciate me being mean about Cole, she definitely would. Plus, I was looking forward to hearing her surprise at my insanely impossible situation.
A few minutes later, I checked my feed again and stared at what I saw. Somebody had liked my last tweet, but it wasn’t someone I recognized.
His username was FighterColeMMA.
I clenched my fists. There was no way it was him. He couldn’t be stalking me online, too, could he?
I stood up, deciding not to waste any time. I pushed open my bedroom door and then banged on his door. “Cole!” I said.
“Come in.”
The door pushed open and I was ready to shout at him, to tell him what an asshole he was being, how he couldn’t just refuse to divorce me, but it all just died on my lips. I stared in at him as he continued to do his sit-ups.
He was shirtless and had a thin sheen of sweat. I remembered that body very, very well from all those months ago. Tattoos snaked up his skin, and his muscles were ripped and tough. I wanted to tell him what a dick he was being, except it was hard when I also wanted to lick every inch of his exposed torso.
He finished his set and looked over at me. “What can I do for you, wife? Come to spend some time in our marriage bed?”
That snapped me out of it. “Are you stalking me?”
He gave me an innocent look. “What do you mean?”
“Twitter. I know you saw my tweets.”
“Not my fault your profile is public.”
My jaw dropped. It really was him. I couldn’t believe he had the gall to like a tweet that was so clearly making fun of him.
“How did you find me?”
“You used your real name.”
I let out a thin breath. Of course. All he needed to do was search for my name.
“So you refuse to let me divorce you and now you’re cyber stalking me.”
“Not exactly. You’re the one insulting me publically.”
“I wouldn’t have to do that if you would just divorce me.”
He stood up and stretched, grinning. “Why would I do that? I want to try and make our marriage work.”
“We don’t have a marriage.”
“Call me old fashioned, but I think the state would disagree with you.”
“Legally, fine. But, Cole, we’re not married and you know it.”
“I don’t know. Maybe we could give it a try.”
He moved across the room, and I could practically feel my pussy go from normal to dripping in six seconds. He was ripped and smooth and slightly sweaty in an incredible way. It wasn’t fair at all. How was I supposed to win this argument when he looked like that?
How was I supposed to divorce him when he made me feel that way?
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
“Because I can.” He grabbed my waist suddenly and pulled me against him.
I didn’t fight.
“Because I want to,” he continued, talking into my ear. I felt a shiver run down my spine. “Because I want to take you again, Alex, make you feel things you thought you forgot about. I want to take it further.”
“And I just want to move on with my life, maybe not be married to my stepbrother.”
He paused and then laughed and moved away from me. I took a sharp breath, wishing he’d come back.
“Yeah, that is inconvenient.”
“Seriously, we can’t do this. If somebody found out, our parents would be screwed.”
He walked over to the bed and pulled his shirt back over his chest. I wished he hadn’t done that, but it did make it easier to talk to him.
“Maybe I don’t much care about Cindy’s career anymore.”
I rolled my eyes. “Typical. Rebelling against mommy.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Isn’t it? You’re staying married to me to get back at your mom.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“Exactly. That’s why we shouldn’t be married.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a clever one, Alex, but you’re my wife.”
“What am I going to have to do to get a divorce?” I said, desperate and angry.
He looked at me for a second. “How about this. For starters, you have to come see an MMA fight with me.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Are you joking? I have no interest in that.”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Fine,” I said quickly. “Fine. But I’m bringing a friend.”
He shrugged. “Do whatever you want.”
“If this is your way of trying to prove that MMA isn’t lame, you’re going to be disappointed.”
He gave me a wicked grin and turned away. “I doubt that.”
The next night, we stood outside of the venue and I did not want to go in at all.
It was crowded, way more crowded than I would have guessed was possible for an MMA fight. I knew it was popular with some people, but figured it was still pretty small.
But the place looked packed. Like, hundreds of people packed. I had expected a lot of old fat men and bros, but it was a strange mix of people. There were even a few young kids in the crowd, which freaked me out. Who would bring a kid to a violent fight?
“This is crazy,” Lacey whispered in my ear. “So many people!”
“I know, right?”
“And I half expected to get murdered.”
“Surprisingly, I feel a lot safer than I expected.”
“Like, I thought this was some sort of street fighting?”
“But it’s legit,” I said, mystified.
“I know! And so many hot guys.”
I looked around, frowning. “Really?”
“Get your head out of your ass, Alex. This place is crawling with testosterone-laden beefcakes. It’s like a buffet of muscular men.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I guess. I didn’t really notice.”
“What are you two whispering about?”
I looked up as Cole returned, holding our tickets.
“Cole, you didn’t tell us these things were full of hot guys,” Lacey said.
“They’re not really my type,” he said.
“You have a type of guy?” I asked.
“Nope. They’re not my type because they’re guys.”
Lacey and I laughed as he handed out our tickets. He walked confidently through the crowd, and I had to admit that I was pretty impressed so far. The venue was large and clean, even though it was completely packed inside. Our seats weren’t far from the ring, only a few rows back.
“How’d you get these?” I asked Cole.
“I know a guy.”
We sat down and he looked around the place.
“See anyone you know?” I asked him.
“Plenty,” he grunted.
“Any friends?”
“Nope.”
I turned back toward Lacey to make a joke, but she was too busy ogling a group of men in business suits that looked like they would have been comfortable in an economic summit.
The lights were bright and the crowd was crawling. It was full of noise, nervous excitement, and prefight jitters. People were buying drinks and food and generally wandering around the place. Most of the seats were full already, and people were slowly filtering in. Music blared through the loudspeaker, but it wasn’t anything I recognized.
“Look at those hunky nerds,” Lacey said, staring blatantly.
I shook my head, smiling. “You’re unreal.”
“What? They’re like sexy accountants. I’d let every one of them bang me if they’d do my taxes, too.”
“Prostituting yourself for tax help?”
“What can I say, I hate doing my taxes.”
Suddenly, Cole stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
“Okay.”
He stalked off into the crowd. I watched, curious about what he was doing, but he quickly disappeared into the mass of people.
“Where’s your husband going?”
I shot her a look. “We agreed. No jokes about that tonight.”
“Oh come on. Just one.”
“Whatever. I’m not sure where he’s going.”
I looked around and spotted him across the way. I watched as he approached a group of men and began talking to them. They looked like they all knew each other, shaking hands and laughing. I watched as Cole took over their conversation, dominating whatever they were talking about. He seemed completely at ease and in control, totally calm and collected. In the middle of the sea of wild people, Cole was like an oasis of cool and collected confidence.
Meanwhile, Lacey was still scouting out the crowd. I was afraid that if I turned my back on her for too long that she’d end up going home with the first mildly attractive guy that spoke to her.
Cole came back a few minutes later and sat back down. “What was that?” I asked him.
“What do you care?”
“Curious, I guess.”
He leaned in toward me. “Curious about me?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“I knew you would be, wife. Can’t help yourself.”
“I’m just trying to be nice.”
He smirked. “Sure you are. Well, that was just business.”
“Just business?”
He leaned back in his seat. “Sure. Business.”
“You’re so mysterious,” I said sarcastically.
Whatever comeback he had prepared fell short as the crowd began to cheer, drowning him out. I looked over toward the ring as men began to climb inside.
They were muscular and mostly naked, though not as large as Cole was. I looked at him and he nodded at the ring, a little smile on his face. The excitement of the crowd began to build, the electric shiver of excitement running through our bodies.
It was the buzz before something happened. It was the buildup to the fight. I glanced at Lacey, and I knew she felt it, too. The rush of excitement, anticipation, and even a little bit of fear.
It was exhilarating. I loved how in tune with the crowd I felt as the bell rang and the two men attacked each other savagely.
I didn’t think I liked violence. Well, I knew that I didn’t. That wasn’t what I liked about the fight, honestly. I could have gone without watching the thing entirely. But the feeling of being there with the crowd as we cheered the men on, the two of them pitting their bodies against each other, well, it was incredible.
They were at the pinnacle of their physical skills, and we were watching them work as hard as they possibly could to destroy their opponent. MMA was different from boxing; there was a wider variety of moves allowed, not just punching. The two men kicked and wrestled and
punched each other, and the fight went for a few rounds, seemingly close.
And I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. I could feel Cole next to me, and he felt it too, that same adrenaline boost. When the taller man landed a rough punch on the smaller one, knocking him down, the crowd went absolutely insane. The taller man pounced on the smaller one, pummeling him, and then the fight was over.
It happened so fast. One second they looked evenly matched, though both of them were pretty beat up, and the next second the one man was standing in the middle of the ring, victorious.
The crowd was on its feet, cheering wildly. Cole was clapping, a huge, vicious smile on his face. I couldn’t stop myself from cheering along.
It was such a rush. I’d never experienced anything like it before. Although the fight still wasn’t really my thing, I was beginning to understand why Cole loved it and why so many people wanted to get involved with it.
“Come on,” Cole said over the roar of the crowd.
He shifted his way through the seats, and I had to struggle to keep up. Lacey was right behind me. I gave her a look, but neither of us knew where Cole was going. We went back up the ramp and toward the front. Cole pushed open an unmarked door and led us through a back hallway and into another room.
The sounds of the crowd receded, and I glanced at Lacey again. She gave me a confused smile but didn’t say anything.
This was smaller, more intimate. There were still a good amount of people in there, but it was quieter. There was a bar in the back with a TV showing replays of the fight just above it. Men and women all sat around talking, drinking, and watching each other.
“What’s this?” I asked Cole.
“Bar for the fighters,” he grunted.
“Oh hell yeah,” Lacey whispered. “Showtime.”
She disappeared toward a table of young men before I could say anything. I couldn’t believe how forward she was being, but then again, you never knew with Lacey.
“Come on,” Cole grunted.
We made our way to the bar. Several people in the room gave Cole a nod of recognition, and he nodded back, though nobody came up to him. We sat down on stools and ordered drinks.
“How many people in here do you know?” I asked him.
“Most of them.”
“These are your people, then, I guess.”