Bull: An MMA Stepbrother Romance

by Saint, Selena

  Lisa shook her head and sunk back down onto the bed.

  “No. Not like that,” Lisa said.

  Janis took a deep breath. “Did he...rape you?”

  Lisa shot her a look and chuckled, “No, pretty fucking far from it. More like I raped him.”

  That one took Janis back a bit. “Whuuuuu....come again?” she said.

  Lisa just shook her head and buried her face in her pillow.

  “Girl, you can’t drop a bomb like that on me and then just clam up. You raped him? What the hell does that even mean?”

  Lisa kept her face buried in her pillow, it was too embarrassing.

  “Leese, talk to me.”

  Lisa shook her head.

  “Fine, I’m calling Jake. I need to know how I can rape him,” Janis said as she made a big production of getting her phone out.

  “No!” Lisa said as she reached out and grabbed Janis’ phone. “Okay, fine, I’ll tell you.”

  It was Lisa’s turn for a deep breath.

  “I...I don’t even know how it happened. I mean...one moment he’s got his fingers in my hair. He's taking out my hair clip. The next moment we’re on the mat and he’s...showing me things. I...I got carried away. I forgot where I was and, he was telling me to, like, try harder and stuff, you know, like strain harder and...”

  “No...I don’t think I do know,” Janis said. “You’re not making much sense.”

  “I...like, there was this move he showed me. Where, like, his arm is between my legs and I’m supposed to try to break it, but I wasn’t breaking it. Like, I strained hard. I kept straining. He kept encouraging me and...it just...felt...good,” she said. She looked at Janis hoping she wouldn’t have to say more.

  Janis paused as if choosing her words carefully. “Are you telling me...what are you telling me?”

  Lisa threw her hands up in exasperation. “I...climaxed. Like...with his arm. Rub...rubbing it, or whatever.”

  Janis’ eyes opened wide and she threw her hand to her mouth to hold back a scream or a laugh. “You came on his arm? You dry humped his arm?” She had risen off the bed and was pacing back and forth. “Oh my god, you fucked his arm. You raped his fucking arm!” The more she talked about it the funnier it got and she was eventually laughing.

  “I told you!” she said as she started humping the air again. “Jake, is this right? Show me, Jake!” she said in her high-pitched voice as she laughed.

  “God, Janis, it’s not funny,” Lisa said as she rose up off the bed. “How can I ever show my–”

  “You dirty little whore! You dirty little slut, raping that poor...defenseless...brute of a man!” Janis said as she continued to grind her hips in the air.

  She stopped and turned to Lisa. “Wait. What did he say?”

  “Um, he didn’t say...I mean, I just ran out. It was mortifying. I don’t know what came over me!”

  “Cum. Cum came over you girl. Hell yes, with that guy, I could see it,” she said as she put her hand to her chin and struck a thoughtful pose. “Yeah, you get that big...tattooed...muscular arm between your legs. You start grinding...just grinding hard.” She was working her hips hard on an imaginary arm and smiling at Lisa. “Yeah, girl. Good job!”

  “You are the worst friend,” Lisa said as she shook her head and smiled. “The worst fucking friend, Janis. Do you hear me? You’re terrible.”

  She was the best friend. It was the first time in three days that Lisa had smiled and her goofy, sex-crazed best friend was the reason. Janis Scott, the best medicine in the world.

  Janis stopped her lewd hip-grinding. “So, he hasn’t texted you or anything? That seems weird.”

  “Um, I don’t know, maybe he has,” Lisa said.

  “You haven’t checked?” Janis said, perplexed.

  “No, I turned my phone off. God, I can’t even think about what he’s said.”

  “You’re phone’s off. Well, that explains why you haven’t responded to any of my one thousand messages! I had just assumed you were ignoring me.”

  “Sorry, Jan. I just didn’t couldn’t face...what I had done.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine. You’re now wanted in the three counties for arm-rape,” she said with mock seriousness.

  “No, obviously not, it’s just that...I’m embarrassed. I mean, who does that? Some silly girl that could never please a man like that. It's just like with Roger. God, I feel so stupid.”

  "Lisa, this is nothing like Roger. It's not like you weren't trying to make Jake cum and he couldn't." She smiled a wide, devilish smile. “Lisa, if there is one thing I know about guys it’s that they all want to think they are this big, bad stud. A stud that can make girls cream their pants with a smile. I’m telling you, you just made his fucking year!”

  “He's disgusted with me. He’s my...brother, or whatever.”

  “He’s your stepbrother and he barely knows you. You said it yourself. I guarantee you he thought it was hot and now he thinks he’s Billy Badass because he made you cum with his arm!”

  “No, he’ll think I’m some stupid little–”

  “Billy...Badass! I promise,” Janis insisted.

  Lisa was shaking her head.

  “Listen, I’ll leave you alone. But, you should check your messages and put yourself out of your misery,” she said.

  “No. Stay here. I need you here for this.”

  Lisa hadn’t known it until that moment, but it was true. She needed Janis to be there. She would need her support if it was terrible.

  She took a deep breath and picked up her phone. She looked up at Janis, who just nodded her head.

  Her finger hovered over the power button until she finally willed herself to press it.

  The phone began its power up sequence and Lisa’s heart leaped into her throat. It took an eternity to power up and Lisa more than once almost chickened out and turned it off again.

  Finally, it was on. For a moment it just sat there. Then the avalanche. The phone began dinging continuously as dozens of text messages and voicemails downloaded. She flipped over to the Messages app. She had 47 messages from Mom, 36 from Janis, and 15 from Jake.

  She hesitated for a split second, then tapped the entry for Jake.

  Monday

  Jake: Lisa, I’m sorry. Please call.

  Jake: You have nothing to be embarrassed about.

  Jake: It was all my fault. I thought you might be getting worked up and I kept pushing you. I shouldn’t have.

  Tuesday

  Jake: I don’t know what got into me. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I just forgot myself. I’m so sorry.

  Jake: I know I shouldn’t have done that, being your stepbrother and all, but I don’t care anymore. I think you’re amazing and...I want you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m sorry if that’s weird, or wrong. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.

  Jake: Please call me. My calls are going straight to your voicemail.

  Jake: Please forgive me. I won’t do anything like that again. And if you never want to talk to me again I understand.

  Wednesday

  Jake: I’m such an asshole. I know that now.

  Jake: Lisa, please talk to me. I can’t take this anymore.

  Jake: My fight’s this Saturday. I’m cutting weight and it’s getting hard to keep my spirits up. I need you.

  Jake: Lisa, I’m sorry if I’m coming off like a stalker or something, I just really need to talk to you about what happened.

  Jake: It would mean a lot to me if you could be there for my fight. Having you on my side I know I will be unstoppable. I know you have no reason to support me and every reason to hate me. I just need you. Again, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

  Jake: I know I’m being a creep at this point. You obviously don’t want to talk to me. I understand.

  Jake: I can never forgive myself for what I have done to you.

  Today

  Jake: I just wanted to say I am sorry one more time. I will
stay away from you and will stop calling and texting. I’ll tell my Dad that I can’t attend any other family functions. Goodbye, Lisa.

  Lisa read through the messages twice.

  Finally, Janis’ patience had run out. “Well?” she said.

  Lisa looked up at Janis and smiled. “He said...he said it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.”

  Janis screamed. “I told you, girl!”

  “We have to go. He...needs me,” Lisa said, not believing the words she was saying.

  Jake

  Chapter 10

  Ready

  Jake paced in his waiting room in a mental state somewhere just left of delirium and just right of sanity. His body was weak, and since the post weigh-in IV ban he didn’t have a quick rehydration to look forward to.

  He was on edge, antsy, ready to snap at the first motherfucker to walk through that door. A world class headache was pounding in his temples.

  A man poked his head through the door, “15 minutes to walk out, Jake. Get ready.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jake mumbled under his breath. Time to get this shit over with and get some juice back into this body.

  “Cole,” Jake said, “I’m gonna fucking murder someone. I can’t fucking take this anymore.”

  “Almost there bro, just a little longer. Fifteen minutes and then we mainline Pedialyte back into you as fast we can. And tonight, steak dinner’s on me.”

  “I’ll fucking take you up on that you fucking cheap bastard,” Jake said. “About time you bought me some dinner.”

  Jake reached for his phone and contemplated sending Lisa another text. It must have been the tenth time that day. No. Can’t go back there, he thought. He had closed that door. He knew it served him right. He had made this bed. And now he had told her he would no longer bother her. He had to be true to his word, whatever it cost him.

  It cost a lot. Now more than ever he needed to be thinking about his fight but all he could think of was Lisa and how he had made her cry.

  Cole snatched the phone out of his hand. “Taking this from you bro. You need to focus. Put her out of your mind for now.”

  You mean put her out of my mind forever.

  A head popped in the door again.

  “Three minutes, Jake,” it said.

  Closer. Three minutes. He would walk on stage, undress, get on the scales, and make weight. Then he would drink as much Pedialyte as he could without throwing up. Then he would stare down that doomed motherfucker across from him.

  After what seemed like an eternity the man came back and ushered Jake and Cole out and toward the stage. The rest of Jake’s fight team joined them and they queued up to go on stage.

  Music was pumping over the loud speakers. The announcer’s voice boomed, “Next up, in the light heavyweight division, Ben ‘Beast’ Magnusson!”

  Jake could see Beast and his fight team walk out on stage. He watched as Beast stripped down to underwear in front of the crowd. There must have been 5,000 fans in that crowd. The official adjusted the scales for a moment, then said something to the announcer.

  “206 ladies and gentlemen!” he yelled. The crowd erupted in cheers and Beast flexed his muscles and walked off the scales.

  “And his opponent,” the announcer yelled, “Number five ranked contender, Jake Mata!”

  Jake led his team out onto the stage. The floodlights were blinding. He couldn’t make out the audience, but he could hear them, and he could feel their energy. They were with Beast.

  Jake had been around the block. Sometimes you’re the fan favorite, sometimes you’re not. Didn’t matter. All the same, he didn’t like the thought of Lisa hearing the crowd root for the other guy. As soon as he thought it he realized how absurd it was. Lisa wouldn’t hear them. She would be nowhere near the place and didn’t give two shits if he won or got his block knocked into next week.

  He stripped to his underwear. He felt gaunt. He never liked the way the gauntness of extreme dehydration looked on him. He stepped onto the scales and watched the weigh-in officials face. He tried to read his expression. This cut had been brutal. If he didn’t make 206 the official would give him two hours to try again, but that wasn't going to happen. That was two hours of hell Jake knew he could no longer endure. His body had had enough and it was either time to make weight or take the penalty and give up a percentage of his purse. His own scales had read 205. He should have it...

  Finally, the official told the announcer, “205.5,” and Jake breathed a sigh of relief. He almost let the façade of toughness crack, but there were thousands watching him. He raised his arm and flexed hard. The classic muscleman pose. One thing that did look good when he was cutting weight was his arms. He was shredded and every vein and ripple of muscle shown. He turned to the left and right showing the entire audience and making the meanest face he could muster.

  “205.5 ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer yelled over the loudspeakers, “This one’s going to be a barnburner! It has fight of the night written all over it!”

  Jake turned, looking for Cole. Bless the man, he already had a bottle of Pedialyte open for him. Jake stepped down off the scales and grabbed it from him, chugged it down as fast as he could.

  Beast was waiting for him to do the staredown. Jake knew every second he delayed the face off just pissed Beast off that much more. Let the motherfucker wait, Jake thought as he cracked another Pedialyte and chugged it.

  The drink was like ice to a sunburn. It quenched the raw, dry sensation in his throat.

  He turned to look at Beast who was shooting daggers at him with his eyes.

  He walked over to him and they both raised their arms into a fighting stance. Beast was standing just a little too close. He bent his head into Jake’s and whispered, “I’m going to fucking kill you tomorrow night, bitch!”

  He had just stepped on the last nerve Jake had. Jake hauled off and shoved Beast hard in the chest and Beast went flying back. He got his footing and came after Jake but the promoter stepped between them. Their teams then jumped in to prevent the fight.

  Cole grabbed Jake. “It’s not worth it man! Save it for tomorrow night!”

  Jake calmed down as Beast’s team worked him off stage.

  “Yeah,” Jake said, “tomorrow night that motherfucker’s gonna pay.”

  Chapter 11

  FIght

  “We rollin’!!!!” boomed the voice of the event coordinator. The guy kept everyone on time and in position and when he started yelling it always got Jake amped up. Jake loved the guy.

  He took a deep breath. It was time. The butterflies in his stomach came as much from the adrenaline dump that hit his body as it did from the fear. Fighters didn’t talk about the fear much, but every damn one of them felt it. It wasn’t so much fear of pain, or of getting hit. Hell, he got hit every day in sparring. It was fear of looking bad, when you got right down to it. Fear of letting down everyone that had put their blood, sweat, and tears into you. Your coaches, mentors, family, sparring partners.

  Most of all, it was fear of looking like a chump. Lisa wouldn’t be watching tonight. That would amp his fear up to somewhere around 11, but he would have fed off it. No way he would have gone down in front of Lisa.

  It was just a matter of minutes before the fear would leave him, though. Once he squared off against Beast in the cage it would all be behind him. There would be no more butterflies, no more fear, just raw, naked aggression.

  It had been a brutal eight weeks of fight camp, a hellacious weight cut, and all the sacrifices. He was finally going to get his hands on this motherfucker. He wished he could have gotten to do it in front of Lisa, but that was all his fault. He didn’t deserve her.

  His fight team lined up behind him and they began the walkout. His entrance song boomed over the arena speakers. Instant adrenaline hit. Jake remembered his days of bar fights, smokers in parking lots. The underground circuit. He was big time now. Now it was Vegas hotels and arenas for him.

  Jake started jogging up the tunnel from t
he bowels of the hotel toward the arena entrance. As he entered the arena he the sound and energy of the audience crushed him. Hostile territory. The deafening roar of the crowd was not the welcoming kind.

  He ran up to the official responsible for last minute fighter checks. A few fans stuck their hands out for a high-five, but most just shouted insults. A couple even threw half-empty cups of beer at him.

  It didn’t matter. None of these guys could save Beast from what Jake was about to do to him.

  He stopped at the official right near the entrance gate to the cage. He checked his cup. He frisked him. He checked his mouthpiece and inspected his gloves. Finally, he waved him into the cage where Beast waited for him.

  Jake couldn’t help himself. He scanned the audience looking for Lisa. He had given all four of his floor seats to his Dad. He looked for him and his new stepmom but couldn’t find them.

  Fuck! Why was he thinking of Lisa? He had a fucking fight to get on with.

  He stared across the cage at the man he was about to fight. Jake had trained for this moment for eight weeks and now he was ready to lay a beating on this man. Nothing personal. He actually liked what he had seen of Beast as a man, but that guy stood between him and the belt, and that meant he had to go down.

  “Fighting! Out of the red corner. Weighing in at...” the announcer’s voice became an indistinct blur. Normally his trademarked energy and crazy theatrics got Jake pumped up but tonight Jake’s mind kept wandering back to Lisa. This was dangerous. He had to focus. Lose your concentration in tennis and you lose a point. Lose your concentration in MMA and you might wake up in a hospital.

  The next thing Jake knew he was in the center of the cage across from Beast and the ref was running down the rules. The microphone projected his voice over the entire arena. They had already gone over this in the locker room, this bit was for the audience.

  “If you want to touch gloves do it now,” the ref said.

  Jake put out a glove, but Beast ignored it. Fine, that’s how it’s going to be huh?