Beast: An MMA Stepbrother Romance (10 page)

Gina puts her hand on my shoulder and spins me away from the bar.  “This one says there is.  She says there’s a giant room full of inked up guys back there who watch fights, and that one of the fighters is her new stepbrother.  I think she’s making it all up.”

Fox just laughs.

***

Gina’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head.  “Holy shit, is that really him?”

My breath quickens as I watch the Beast step out of the locker room, eyes glowing, perfect lips set into a hard line, totally naked except for a tight, black pair of shorts that barely stretch all the way around his powerful thighs.  That’s him, alright.  Every stupid, panty-destroying inch of him.

The crowd goes crazy as he walks up to the ring.  Some of them roar like tigers.  As he climbs up into the octagon, his eyes meet mine and a hot shudder runs through my body.

“How have you not fucked him yet?”  Gina’s question is uncomfortably close to what I’m thinking.

“Gina!  He’ll hear you!”

“I’ll say it to his face.  Didn’t you say you slept in the same bed with him?  How is that even possible without something happening?”

I shift in my seat, trying to ignore the burning down between my legs.  It feels like that intense, fiery alcohol burn has traveled all the way down to my hips, making me feel warm, wet, and way too receptive to the idea of sneaking back to the locker room and letting Beast finish what he started last time I was here.

It doesn’t help that I have a perfect view into the locker room hallway from our front row seats, and it definitely doesn’t help that Caleb keeps staring at my low cut dress, the one I bought because he asked me to, like he wants to rip it to shreds with his teeth and put his hungry, savage mouth on every inch of my naked body.

I try to shake the thought away, but it keeps coming back stronger.  Last time I saw him in this room, he wasn’t my stepbrother, and the throbbing between my legs doesn’t seem to care what happened between then and now.

Maybe I can distract myself somehow.  Ask Fox why they call him Fox.  Talk to Gina about our big road trip.  Count the piercings in the room.

I look over at Fox and Gina, who are already feeling each other up like horny teenagers in an empty theatre.  Counting piercings it is, I guess. 

I make it to 27 piercings before the crowd erupts into a chorus of hisses and Beast’s opponent steps into the arena.  He’s kind of a twitchy guy, and he’s not in sex god shape like Caleb is.  Fox explains to Gina that his name is Cottonmouth, and he was an up-and-coming fighter with a lot of promise before developing a meth problem and falling off.  He’s a big enough name to make the guys who run the league think this is going to be a fair fight, but Caleb should easily win.  Personally, I’m just relieved he’s not armed with a weapon like the last guy.

The announcer with the blood red mohawk steps into the ring, announcing the rules and introducing the fighters to the crowd.  When he starts the fight, Cottonmouth immediately charges at Caleb, launching into an all-out assault that catches him off guard and gets two or three nasty hits on him.  Caleb roars in anger and blocks a couple of Cottonmouth’s blows.  Then, he steps to the side and throws Cottonmouth across the ring.

The crowd goes crazy, and so do I.  For the rest of the match, my heart pounds as I watch Caleb weave around Cottonmouth’s wild, reckless punches.  I don’t exactly have a history of watching MMA, but there’s something about watching Caleb that turns me into the world’s biggest fan.  Most of the crowd is rooting for Caleb, cheering when he gets the upper hand on Cottonmouth and cringing when he takes hits, and I’m right there with them.  Just like last time, my whole body is leaning towards the ring, hanging on Caleb’s every move.  I’m worried that I’m going to distract him again, but I’m pretty sure that if Caleb thought that was a problem, he wouldn’t have sat me right in the front row.

Cottonmouth must be jacked up on something:  he’s clearly not in his right mind, hopping from foot to foot like a crazy person and charging at Caleb over and over, not even caring if he gets hit.  Finally, Caleb manages to get him into a submission hold, but not before taking a nasty punch to the temple that sends streams of blood trickling down Caleb’s face.

After a few minutes of struggling to get out of Caleb’s hold, Cottonmouth finally taps out, and the crowd goes absolutely crazy, exploding into a drunken chorus of roars, growls, and screams.  Caleb’s burning green eyes look up at the mass of cheering people, he pushes himself up off of Cottonmouth’s prone body, and then he roars back at the crowd, easily making himself heard over the deafening noise.  Then, he grabs the side of the ring, looks down at me, and gives me a look that
ruins
my panties.  A look that says “Get up here and let me ravage you, or I’m going to come down there and do it myself.” 

My breathing gets as hard as Beast’s, I squirm in my seat, and I only break eye contact when some guys come up with a towel to clean the blood off of Caleb’s forehead.  Then, as soon as his wound is clean and closed up with a couple butterfly bandages, Caleb looks right back at me with all kinds of dangerous things burning in his eyes, climbs out of the ring, and heads for the locker room, motioning for me to follow him. 

God, he’s arrogant.  He thinks that I’m just going to follow him back there and let him make me his personal plaything just because…well, uh, that’s what happened last time, and I showed up in a low cut dress just like he asked me to, and I practically started drooling watching him fight…

Okay, fine, so it makes complete sense.  The question is, what do I want to do about it?  I know that following Caleb back there and letting him have his savage way with me is probably the most irresponsible thing that I could possibly do, but I’m pretty sure it’s way past Responsible Emma’s bedtime.  Meanwhile, Irresponsible Emma is up on my left shoulder, decked out in a red dress and devil horns, telling me that maybe I should just fuck him now and get all this sexual tension out of our system.

It’s closure, right?  We finish what we started in the same place we met, and then it’ll be much easier to turn down his stupid immature come-ons in the future.  I know that argument is full of more holes than a hunk of Swiss cheese, but right now, with this wet, throbbing fire in my hips, I’m inclined to go along with any plan that involves me fucking the Beast.

God, what am I thinking?  Bad Emma!  Don’t fuck your stepbrother!  No matter how wet he makes you!

Well, I probably at least need to go back there, right?  If I don’t, I’d be blowing Caleb off, and that’d just be rude.  Besides, Fox and Gina are furiously making out in the seat next to me, and I highly doubt I’m going to be able to get Gina away from him for the rest of the night.

It’ll be fine.  I’ll see what Caleb wants, and if he tries anything dirty, I’ll just calmly and rationally explain why that would be a bad idea.  No problem.

And the fact that I can’t stop fantasizing about my first meeting with Caleb as soon as I step into the locker room hallway?  That’s no problem either.  Sure, last time I was here he kissed me, felt me up, and let me feel his cock, but this time, things will be different.

I tell myself that right up until I open the locker room door and practically run right into Caleb. 

“Hey Emma,” he says, with a dirty, dirty grin spread across his face.  God, has he gotten
bigger
since the last time we were here?  His biceps look huge.  Wait, why the hell did I come in here, again?

“Um, hi.  Congratulations on the win.”

Caleb shrugs.  “It wasn’t hard.  Not with you showing off all that skin.  The hard part was not climbing out of the ring and dragging you back here the second I saw you in this fucking dress.”

Caleb runs his hands down my sides, running the smooth black fabric of my dress between his fingers.  Now might be a good time to calmly and rationally explain why him touching me like this is a bad idea.

“Getting your sexy ass out in the front row is like fucking cheating.  I’d beat the shit out of three guys at once for a chance at getting my hands on these perfect fucking tits.”

I gasp as Caleb’s hands come up to my breasts and start to massage them.  This is the exact thing I didn’t want to happen, but it feels so good that it takes me a couple seconds before I slap his hands away.

“Caleb!”  I say, my voice an octave too high, as I squirm away from my stepbrother.

“What?  In my text, I said ‘cleavage optional but appreciated.’  You showed cleavage, so now I’m appreciating it.”

I put some space between me and Caleb, hoping he doesn’t notice that my nipples could cut glass.  “Caleb…we can’t.  This is
so
inappropriate.”

“Emma,” says Caleb, “We both know you wouldn’t be anywhere near here if you wanted to be appropriate.  And if you say ‘we can’t’ one more time, I’m going to bend you over and spank that shit out of your vocabulary.”

I try and come up with some kind of rebuttal for that, but Caleb walks up, presses his rock hard body against mine, and suddenly it’s
really
hard to think.

And I know I’ve been telling myself over and over again that I can’t hook up with him, but…just once wouldn’t hurt, right?  Unable to deny the fire between my legs any longer, I look Caleb in the eye, moan with need, and put my mouth on his. 

Chapter 14:  Caleb

Alright, first things first.  I’m fucking dying to rip that obscenely sexy black dress off of Emma and do what I should have done before she ever became my stepsister, but before I can do that, there are a couple things that need to happen.

I pull my mouth off Emma’s, drawing an adorable little whimper from her lips.  God, she’s panting harder than me, and I just spent ten minutes in the fucking octagon. 

“What’s the matter?” she asks, her voice mostly breath.

I grab my cock, grinning as her eyes drop down to it.  “I know you’re dying to get your hands on this, but for what I’ve got planned for you, we’re going to need some privacy first.”

There’s a punching bag over by the door, and I walk over to it and drag it so that it’ll block anyone who tries to get in.  When I turn around, I burst out laughing at the sight of Emma leaning over the bench just like she did the first time we met, thrusting her curvy ass into the air between us.

In response, Emma bites her lip and sticks her ass out even farther.  Fuck, I’m laughing, but the thought of pulling that dress up her hips, slipping her panties down, and sliding right in from behind is starting to get tempting.  But she’d like that, wouldn’t she?  We pick up right back where we left off, and she gets to pretend it “doesn’t count” because it’s almost exactly like our one night stand a couple of weeks ago.

There’s no way in hell I’m letting her get off that easy.  But hey, if she wants to stick her ass out for me…

I slide my hand under Emma’s dress, pushing hard between her legs and threading a couple fingers into her panties.

Holy shit, I’ve barely touched her and she’s fucking soaked.  My original plan was to play with her clit until she was nice and wet, but it feels like she’s already there.

“Is this how you feel when you watch me fight?”

I push my index finger in hard, slow circles on Emma’s clit.

“Caleb…mmm…”

“What was that?  That didn’t sound like an answer.  Let’s try that again.  Is this how you feel when you watch me fight?”

“It’s how I feel every time I’m around you!”

As she realizes what she just said, Emma’s jaw drops and she turns back to look at me.  So naturally, I push hard on her clit so I can see the expression that she makes.  Her cute little teeth come down on her lower lip, her eyes shut tight, and she squeaks with arousal.  If this is how she feels every time she’s around me, I’m surprised she made it this long without crawling into bed with me.

I pull my hand out from between Emma’s legs, drawing another desperate whimper from her lips.

God, this fucking girl is going to be the death of me.  That’s why I need to get her out of here before someone tries to come in.  The punching bag will stop them from actually seeing us, but Emma might get embarrassed again and bolt, leaving me with a potentially lethal case of blue balls.

“Come on.”  I pull Emma up into a standing position, flip her around, and toss over my shoulder. 

“Caleb!”  Emma kicks her legs in the air, pounds on my back, and pretends she’s not enjoying every second of this.  “What are you doing?”

“What I should have fucking done last time.”  I grab a foil packet from my locker, carry Emma to the far end of the locker room, open a door marked “SHOWERS,” and step inside.

“Alright.” I put Emma down on the ground, lifting up her chin so that she’s looking me right in the eye.  “Now, where were we?”

Emma’s eyes dart towards the showerheads on the walls.  “Um…I don’t know…”

“Really?  Because I’m pretty sure Little Miss Don’t-Be-Inappropriate-Caleb just told me that her little pussy gets wet every time she’s around me after I reached between her legs and found this.”

I show Emma the hand that I slipped into her panties, fingertips still glistening with her arousal.  Then, her mouth drops open as I put a couple fingers between my lips and taste her.  I’m trying to get her even wetter, but she tastes so fucking good on my tongue that I’m suddenly hungry for more.

“What’s the matter, Emma?  Cat got your tongue?”

Emma’s eyes drift down to my cock again.  When I catch her looking, I grab her hand and plunge it down into my shorts, where her cute little fingers wrap around the shaft.  I start her down at the base, and then slide up…and up…and up…

Emma’s eyes get huge.  She looks like she’s petting a fucking unicorn.  “That’s right, Emma.  I’m the real fucking deal.  Is this what you wanted the first time I took you into the locker room?”

“Yes.”  Her voice is a whisper that echoes off the shower walls.

“And is this what you want right now?”

Emma shuts her eyes tight and starts breathing hard.  “Yes!”

That was a little louder, but it was still a whisper.  “Yes, what?”