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

by Hamel, B. B.

  I grabbed her hips and pressed my body against hers, kicking the door shut behind us.

  She knew what I wanted. She could feel my dick pressed against her core. But she didn’t move, didn’t say a word, as I slowly slid my hands up her legs and grabbed her ass, pushing her dress over her hips. She gasped as soon as my palms pressed against her panties.

  “Sure you want to be alone with me?” I asked.

  “No, not at all,” she whispered.

  I kissed her, deep and hard. She kissed me back, and I knew she was lying.

  I knew she wanted to be alone with me more than anything else.

  Chapter Nine: Alexa

  He was right. He always seemed to be right when it came to what I was thinking.

  The truth was, watching him destroy that guy in the ring had been terrifying. I’d kept thinking, I know that guy, that’s my stepbrother, that’s my husband. It had felt like I was watching someone else and I had to remind myself of who he was.

  As his fists pummeled and his feet moved, I had wondered if I ever really knew him at all.

  But then the fight was over and that crowd was cheering again, and I felt that same thrill that I had felt the other night. I knew that no matter what, I was drawn to him, and I couldn’t deny it. I was drawn to him inexplicably, like a planet pulled toward a star. I just had to be careful that it didn’t swallow me up.

  But of course, whenever I got around him I completely lost myself. I only wanted more and more, and I didn’t think about the consequences. I couldn’t help myself, not when he touched me, and especially not when he kissed me.

  Which was why, when he pressed his lips against mine in that empty dressing room, I knew that I was going to let him slide his hand down under my dress and feel how soaking wet I was.

  “I knew this was what you wanted,” he whispered in my ear.

  We stood in the middle of the room, his lips against my ear, his hand between my legs. Shivers ran races down my spine as wave after wave of cascading pleasure crawled through me.

  I’d already told him I wanted him to stay, but I hadn’t been completely honest with him. I didn’t tell him why I wanted him to stay: because I couldn’t stop thinking about those nights, a year ago, when he made me feel so much.

  I gasped as his fingers deftly flicked under my panties and found my clit. I bit down on his shoulder as he began to move in furious circles.

  “Easy there,” he grunted. “There’s a lot more to come, girl.”

  “Shit. Sorry.” He laughed and kissed my neck, rubbing my pussy.

  “I get it. You’re starving.”

  “No,” I gasped. “Not at all.”

  “Liar. When are you going to figure it out?”

  “Figure out what?”

  His fingers stopped and his hand pulled away from me. I let out a small noise but stifled it, stopping myself from begging him not to move.

  “I know exactly what you want.”

  He kissed me again, our lips pressed together, his tongue and taste entering my mouth, sending my head into dizzying circles.

  His hands were on me again, running up my legs, cupping my ass, pressing my breasts together, touching every inch of exposed skin. I couldn’t help but throw myself into it, kissing him back with abandon. I needed his hand back on my clit, back on my spot, sending me into ecstasy.

  And then his strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me off my feet.

  “Hey!” I squealed. It wasn’t very ladylike.

  He laughed and carried me over to the couch, pushing me down into the cushions. He crushed me with his body.

  “Asshole. Don’t pick me up.”

  “I’ll do what I want,” he whispered in my ear as he kissed my neck.

  “No you will—” I began to say, and stopped as his fingers found my pussy again, my dress slid up along my hips.

  “Fuck,” I gasped instead.

  “I know you like that,” he said. “I know you can’t help yourself when I work this little clit.”

  “Cole,” I moaned.

  “I wonder,” he said, moving back and sliding my panties down my legs, “which Cole you’re talking about. Your husband or your stepbrother?”

  “Neither,” I gasped as he spread my legs apart.

  “I think both.”

  His face dropped from view as his tongue and mouth found my pussy.

  I couldn’t argue. I couldn’t say a word, or even think, as his tongue licked my pussy with the perfect amount of pressure. His fingers began to slide inside me, moving slowly in and out as his tongue sucked and licked my clit.

  “Holy shit,” I gasped.

  “You taste amazing,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about this for a year.”

  “That feels incredible,” I gasped as I grabbed his hair. I felt like I might tear it from his scalp, but he just kept working me.

  His strong hands spread my legs even wider, working my pussy, sucking my clit, lapping up every inch of me. It was incredible, pure fire, as he did his work.

  It was just like I remembered. There was nothing else but his mouth and his body working my clit, my whole body tense as waves of pleasure overtook me.

  I couldn’t believe I was letting him lick my clit and fuck my pussy with his fingers in some random dressing room after I had watched him beat a man in a fight, but I couldn’t stop him even if I wanted to. He was a force, a wave washing down over me, rolling through my body and taking me way beyond myself.

  “This fucking cunt,” he said, kissing my clit, “is perfect.”

  “Don’t stop,” I moaned. I couldn’t help myself. I’d beg him to do whatever he wanted so long as he kept making me feel so incredibly good.

  He reached up and took my hair in his fist. “You want this, don’t you?” he whispered in my ear, pulling me down toward him.

  “Yes, please,” I groaned.

  “You want me to eat this pussy until you come.”

  “I do. I need it.”

  “I know you do. You need me to get you off.”

  “Please make me come.”

  “I love when you fucking beg, Alex.”

  He let my hair go and returned to licking and sucking, working my pussy, but this time wilder. He wasn’t holding back anymore, and I knew it. I pressed his face hard against my clit as I worked my hips, his tongue and fingers fucking me.

  I was completely lost in it. I was completely overwhelmed by his strong hands and jaw and eyes and teeth and tongue, his everything as he worked me. Even more, in this moment, I knew I was his. I would do anything for him because I needed it. He could lift me up and throw me across the room if he wanted, or he could stop and leave me begging for more. I was totally under his control, and that was what made me so fucking excited.

  “You want to come for me, don’t you?” he asked, his fingers stroking in and out of my pussy.

  I grabbed my tits, arching my back. “Yes, fuck, please.”

  “You want to come on my mouth?”

  “Oh god yes.”

  His fingers moved agonizingly slowly in and out, and I wanted to scream for him.

  “I want to hear you ask.”

  “Please make me come,” I moaned.

  Without another word he returned to my pussy, his tongue and fingers working in rhythm with my hips.

  I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it too. We moved together, his tongue rolling laps along my clit, my hands woven through his hair, pressing his mouth harder against my pussy, and I felt it.

  Right there, the orgasm began to build, a single spot deep in my pussy that began to totally overtake me.

  “Oh fuck, Cole,” I moaned. He worked furiously, his strong hands controlling my hips as I moved and writhed, gripping his hair. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

  I felt it then burst through me. My back arched, my muscles tensed, and I let out a loud moan as I began to shake slightly. The orgasm swept through me, pure and powerful and incredible, taking away anything that wasn’t joy and more joy.

>   And then I began to slowly come down. He sensed that and slowed his face and fingers to match me. Finally, I released his hair, laying back.

  He stopped and grinned at me. “I love that fucking noise,” he said.

  “What noise?”

  “When you come.” He leaned back and sat down at the other end of the couch, his eyes never leaving me. I watched as he pulled his shorts off, revealing his thick, hard cock.

  I stared at it and he stared back, holding the base.

  “Look how fucking hard you get me,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” I replied, smiling. “Must be tough.”

  “Come here.”

  I moved forward and got on top of him, my hand wrapping around his tip and slowly rolling down along his shaft. He grunted as I kissed him, slowly working his length. I had no clue how he fit into those small shorts he wore to fight in, because his cock was thick and heavy, dwarfing my hand.

  I leaned back and pulled the top of my dress down, revealing my breasts. I smiled as he hungrily grabbed them, gently working my nipples as I continued working his cock.

  “Your fucking body is perfect,” he said.

  “Do you like this?” I asked.

  “Wrap those lips around my cock,” he said, “and I’ll love it.”

  I smiled and blushed but did what he said. I moved back, my ass up in the air, as I licked the length of him, root to tip. I tasted salt and musk and loved it as his pre-cum slipped into my mouth. I sucked him hard, rolling my tongue around his tip, taking his salty taste and skin and needing it.

  “Fuck, Alexa,” he grunted. “You suck cock like you were born to do it.”

  I continued to work him, my mouth taking as much of him as I could. I loved the way he grunted his pleasure, groaned and moaned. I wanted to make him feel even half as good as he made me feel, wanted him to feel the pleasure he gave me. I sucked him as hard as I could, working his cock.

  I pulled him out of my mouth, taking a handful of saliva and jerking him off. I smiled at him, looking him in the eye as I jerked him.

  “Do you like to watch me suck your cock?” I asked, blushing.

  “I like it when you talk dirty,” he answered, grabbing my hair.

  I gasped as he kissed me. “What else do you like?” I asked.

  He moved my head back down toward his cock, and I opened my mouth as he pressed his tip between my lips.

  “I like when you take that dick,” he said. “I like when you let me fuck your perfect lips.”

  He thrusted up and into my mouth, slowly moving in and out. I let him fuck my mouth because I knew he loved it, knew it drove him wild. I wanted to suck every inch of his cock and take every bit of cum he had.

  “I love that pussy and that ass,” he continued, fucking my face. “I love how tight you are and how you blush when I talk dirty. I love that you take my cock without complaining.”

  I began to work him with my hand, jerking him off as he fucked my mouth. He groaned as I began to suck him hard, working his length, my tongue rolling around. I tried to slide his cock into my throat but couldn’t, could barely fit him.

  I worked him like that, letting him thrust as I sucked him. I felt him grab my tits as his cock continued to move in and out of my lips.

  “Fuck, girl,” he groaned. “You want me to come in that pretty mouth?”

  “Yes,” I said, gasping, as I pulled my head back.

  “I want you to swallow every drop.”

  I went back to work, sucking him hard, and he groaned. I could tell he was close, as his whole body tensed.

  “Fuck, Alexa, suck that cock,” he grunted.

  And then he came. His salty cum filled my mouth, and I continued sucking as he shot deep into my throat. I swallowed every bit, just like he had asked me to, and never stopped once. His whole body tensed and stiffened as he grunted, his cock shooting his hot cum deep into my mouth.

  Finally, he finished, and I licked every inch of his heavy dick clean.

  “Shit,” he gasped. “That was fucking incredible.”

  He pulled me up against him and kissed my mouth roughly.

  “You’ve been thinking about that since I got home, haven’t you?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” I lied.

  “There you go, lying to me again.”

  I laughed as I sat up and put my dress back on.

  “We should go,” I said.

  “Guess so.”

  I stood up, my pussy still soaked, my body still aching for him. I knew that if I stayed in that room any longer, then I’d beg for him to fuck me. I knew that if I let him get hard again, I’d be gone.

  He reluctantly pulled his shorts back on and stood.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” I said to him, smiling.

  “About what?”

  “I still want that divorce.”

  He laughed, pulling me against him. “We’ll see.” He kissed me deeply, and my head was a maze, spinning all across the room.

  We got home late. I had no clue what I was doing, letting my stepbrother, my husband, get me off like that. Worse, I didn’t know why I needed to suck his cock. I was a little embarrassed about it, but excited, too. I didn’t know what it meant, or where it was going, but I couldn’t wait for more.

  Because he made me feel good, oh so fucking good, so good it should be wrong. And of course it was wrong, which I was trying very hard to ignore.

  “Quiet,” I said to him. “Our parents are asleep.”

  “Who cares?” he grunted in my ear. “It’s not like they know what we were doing earlier.”

  “Are you home for good now?” I asked, ignoring his comment. We were standing outside our bedroom doors in the dark.

  “Maybe. Haven’t decided.”

  “What’s holding you back?”

  “Not sure.”

  His hands wrapped around my hips and pulled me against him.

  “Not here,” I said, opening my bedroom door.

  He grinned as he followed me inside. I could already feel him undressing me again. I couldn’t let him stay over, not with our parents home, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted him so fucking badly. I turned back to him and looked at his hard body and his delicious smile as he shut the door and locked it.

  I knew what that meant.

  He crossed the room and grabbed me, pulling me against him. I knew where this was going, too, and wanted it so badly. I was practically burning for him, a rough yearning deep between my legs, crawling in agonizingly slow waves up along my spine. He kissed me and I kissed him back.

  Together, we tumbled into the bed.

  But something stopped me. Something was crinkling under my back, uncomfortable. “What’s that?” I asked him.

  “What?” he grunted.

  I shifted my body. “There’s something under me.”

  I reached under my back and pulled out a manila envelope.

  “What is it?” he asked, kissing my neck.

  “I don’t know,” I said softly. “It has my name on it.”

  “Alexa” was written in sharpie along the front in a hand I didn’t recognize. It was addressed to our house and had postage, so the staff had probably placed it on my pillow.

  “Open it later,” he said.

  But something compelled me to ignore him. I tore open the end and reached inside. I felt something glossy and smooth and pulled out what I realized were large photographs.

  What I saw there nearly gave me a heart attack.

  “Cole,” I said.

  He stopped kissing me and sat up, hearing the panic in my voice. “What’s wrong?” he said seriously.

  “Look.”

  I held out the photographs. In black and white, grainy and dark but still visible, was the two of us kissing on the roof of the banquet hall.

  “What else?” he asked, suddenly all business.

  I showed him the rest. It was a series of us kissing each other, stopping only when we were interrupted by Madison the assistant.

  Co
le’s face slowly darkened. I got to the last photograph and noticed something written on the back.

  “It says, ‘Five thousand dollars, five p.m., five days.’ That’s it.”

  “Blackmail,” Cole grunted, standing up.

  He was furious.

  “Who would do this?” I asked him.

  “Come on,” he said, looking at me. “We both know who this is.”

  I shook my head. “Really, I don’t.”

  “That paparazzi piece of shit that I knocked out. He must have snapped these without even realizing what they were.”

  I nodded slowly. “And now he’s blackmailing you.”

  “Explains why he didn’t press charges.”

  I shook my head in total shock. I looked through the pictures again as Cole paced the room, fury rolling off him in waves. It was palpable, his anger, and it scared me.

  “He knows what these pictures would do,” I said. “They would ruin our parents.”

  “I know that.”

  “And, Cole, our marriage. If he digs . . .”

  “I know that, too.”

  I stared at him, terrified.

  “What are we going to do?”

  He stopped pacing and looked at me. I’d never seen someone so serious in my entire life.

  “I’ll take care of this.”

  “Cole—”

  But he had already turned and stormed out of my room. I got up and followed him out into the hall and down the steps.

  “Cole, wait,” I said.

  He ignored me, throwing the front door open. He went out into the street and climbed onto his bike.

  He gave me one last look as he kicked the motorcycle to life and sped out into traffic.

  I watched him disappear.

  Something had almost happened between the two of us. Somehow, something had almost changed because of what had gone down in the dressing room. I’d felt myself almost cross a line.

  But the pictures had pulled us back. Things had shifted, ever so slightly, but I knew it was true.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  I shook my head, afraid, as I went back inside.

  I was afraid for my parents and afraid of what Cole made me feel. But I was also afraid for him and what he was going to do.