Callie looked at her reflection in the mirror with some small degree of dislike. Though her gown was a brilliant shade of turquoise and spun with some kind of beadwork that was imported from somewhere in the Far East, she felt utterly out of place. The dress, while impressive, was entirely her mother’s idea and not at all like the fashions that she fancied for herself. The drawback to being the Maid of Honor was that she no say in the fashion process… especially not when the bride was a world-renowned fashion designer and her own mother to boot.

The dress just didn’t feel right on her. While it showed her large figure to be short of what – in her mother’s business – was considered to be the perfect woman’s figure, it made her feel like she was attracting unwanted attention. She wasn’t ashamed of her figure, and she never had been. But there were times when certain clothes just didn’t feel as if they belonged on her.

This was one of those times.

The color of the dress clashed against the chocolate color of her skin, making it stand out. She thought she looked the same way that a distress flare was meant to attract the eyes of a search and rescue team. It was too bright… she preferred darker colors and simpler clothes. Something about them was just warmer… more vibrant… and more comfortable.

She sighed and her reflected twin mirrored the expression and the emotion behind it. It was like she was wearing someone else’s skin that was stretched uncomfortably over her like the surface of a disgusting drum and she was expected to dance to the tune.

Her only consolation was that she would not have to wear the dress long. The arrangements had been made, and her mother and her new father would depart for their honeymoon as soon as they had sealed their vows with the oh-so-familiar kiss. So… she would only have to wear this thing for thirty or forty-five minutes tops. After that, she could get back into whatever made her comfortable.

Still, she would have to be seen in this dress, and that held no small amount of discomfort for her. Perhaps people would notice her dress more than they would notice her? Most of the people in attendance here, after all, were from her mother’s line of work, and their eye was for material… how it was cut… how it was sewn… and like that, not for the flesh that wore it. But no, she decided that that was equally uncomfortable since anyone here at the wedding was likely to know her and her tastes for fashion. Then again, it was a wedding and not her own. People would understand why she was dressed so unfamiliarly.

I hope.

“Are you ready Ms. Eve?” asked the squeaky voice of a woman behind her.

Callie turned and looked at the voice that had spoken. Standing in the doorway to her private dressing room was a skinny little woman she recognized the as one of her mother’s many aides, still dressed in the same attire as any of the others. She was as much a part of the ceremony as any of the chairs that the guests sat on.

“Yes,” she said, trying to sound sweet and enthusiastic though she did not feel it. “I’m ready.” She picked up her wide-brimmed hat, fit to be worn by Scarlet O’Hara if she had lived in today’s world and pulled it on. She was careful not to disrupt a single strand of her scalp which her mother’s best makeup artists had spent an hour getting ready. Once the hat was in place, she followed the tiny attendant out of her private dressing room.

The California summer was already upon them as she stepped from her dressing space into the open air. Though it was still early in the morning, the air was warm. Callie could feel small beads of sweat forming at the back of her neck as she walked. She recalled hearing that the temperature was supposed to climb up to the triple digits by noon, and she was glad that her mother and soon-to-be stepfather had elected to have their wedding early so that at least people wouldn’t have a chance to melt under the hot sun. Or possibly because her mother knew that most people in her world never got out of bed before 10 AM and wouldn’t have made it here.

Most of the guests probably never spend more time outside than it takes to get from their limo to the office anyway, she thought.

The smell of the sea was pungent in her nostrils, and the gentle rolling sound of the waves was soothing, and though she wasn’t particularly fond of how she had to appear while being here, she did enjoy the setting. There was something positively serene about it, however, marred by the fact that she would soon be under the gaze of at least a dozen people that her mother worked with.

As she looked around, she saw that a number of the guests had already arrived and been shown to their seats. By the look of them, they weren’t all that interested in their surroundings and more interested in each other or in their phones. Some of them spoke anxiously with other guests or into their phones, and she knew at once that even at a time and place like this that they were discussing business. She had seen as much often enough, even in her childhood.

Never an opportunity wasted to make money, she thought with a small amount of scorn. But she kept her face happy and passive. What others did with their lives and time was their concern and none of hers.

Still, that did not stop her from thinking these people were fools not to enjoy their surroundings here. While most weddings took place in a chapel, her mother had always been more inspired by nature and thought that a wedding was just the perfect excuse to be married in the wide open spaces. Callie counted herself lucky that her mother had favored the beach over having to drive into the mountains someplace where the air was so thin it would have been hard to breathe.

Their venue was a simple thing and despite the money that had gone into getting this marriage rolling it was nothing more than a pair of white tents that had been erected on the beach. One for the bride and the other for the groom, with a little room left over for her – the Maid of Honor – and for the groom’s Best Man. And sitting on the sand before they were at least two dozen chairs bisected by a red carpet. And at the end of that long stretch of fabric was a wire wedding arch decorated with artificial flowers and leaves to give the place a more “natural” feeling since there wasn’t even a single piece of driftwood washed up on shore here. Her mother had chosen this place for her wedding, and though Callie wasn’t overjoyed at having to be presented this way in front of all these people, she admired her mother’s taste for such things.

She looked at the guests that had arrived. Of the two dozen chairs, only half as many on either side were filled. Callie knew that her mother and future stepfather had wanted to keep this whole thing small. So small that only those that were rich and full of influence had been invited to witness the ceremony, like a queen of one country about to be wed to the king of another. And in their respective worlds, that would keep out the unwanted and the unpopular.

Fine by me, she thought as she gazed out at the small crowd. The fewer people there were, the less self-conscious she would feel.

“Not exactly a thriving crowd is it, Callie?” said a rough and gruff voice.

Callie felt a twinge in her temple that was a mixture of anger and regret. She tried to keep her face bright and cheery but as she turned to look at the voice that had spoken she felt as though she were looking upon some stray and mangy dog that had just wandered up and licked her leg… infecting her with some horrible disease. Standing beside her, emerging from the groom’s tent, was an image of loathing.

Standing in a suit that would have been expensive in any country was a large and burly man. When she had first met him, he had been clean-shaven with a head of long dark brown hair. But now he wore only a dark brown beard that had grown to be four inches long since she had first known him and braided together to make him look like some kind of a medieval warrior. He was broad-shouldered, his skin looked as rough as treated leather, and though it was mostly concealed she could see the sharpened tail of the scorpion tattoo on his neck protruding out from under the color of his suit like a submarine periscope. His suit was black, though the shirt and tie he wore were a dark blue. And despite the elegance of his attire, he remained as brutish as a hired mercenary with no sense of decency however he was dressed.

“No it’s not, is it Jay?” she replied, though there was a touch of venom in her voice. The venom that she was sure he felt.

He smiled at her, or maybe he was smiling at her covert signs of dislike. Several of his teeth were missing as he smiled, showing that they had been replaced by top-of-the-line fillers that had been made from gold, giving him a literal million dollar smile. This added scope to how brutish she thought he was. She had often wondered how Jay had lost so many teeth, but she had not cared enough to ask. But judging from his demeanor, his posture, and from his general devil-may-care attitude she was hoping that he had deserved it when those teeth had been lost and that whoever had relieved him of them had had the decency to use a hammer when doing so.

That she was about to spend her life – or at least up to the point where her mother chose to get a divorce – with this man as her stepbrother sickened her. It was like inviting Attila the Hun over for tea knowing that he would never leave. She only hoped that her mother, like she had with husbands in the past, chose to get a divorce soon and quickly. The marriage before this one had lasted only eight months. The one before for that lasted for three, and the one before that for a year. She was hoping for a new record… like maybe as soon as the honeymoon was over.

“Well, you know how they get,” he said, dusting a little stray sand from his jacket. He was, of course, referring to their parents. “If they’re not dripping with money then they’re not invited.”

She wanted to smirk at the remark but held it in. Unbearable as her new brother was, he at least had one redeeming quality: he always told the truth. He never made any effort to try and disguise it either. The truth was just like him, ugly and overbearing.

Somewhere from inside the tents the first song of the wedding procession began to play. Callie knew that within minutes her mother and new father would take their respective places and this over-simplified wedding ceremony would begin. And then there would be no escaping Jay and the loutish behaviors that he possessed.

Not how I wanted to start the summer before college, she thought.

Though the idea of being in her house without her mother or father around had always been a sweet and delectable one, she was repulsed by the idea of having to share the house. For years, it had just been she and her mother in the mansion that her mother had built with the money of her trade. Though she would never admit it aloud, she lived for the days when her mother would be gone for days at a time. It allowed her to feel like she was in control of her life for once in her life.

Her mother, like most others in the fashion world, was obsessed with schedules… looks… punctuality… meetings… making money in general… and of course, appearances. As far back as she could remember Callie recalled being tended to by a waiting army of servants to tend to her hair… her nails… picking out what clothes she would wear… reminding her of any appointments that she had to keep… it was never ending. The people followed her around like a shadow that had learned to talk back, and she had always found such attentions to be a bit wearing.

But for the sake of department she had borne it. Her mother expected it of her, after all. Callie received no better or worse treatment than any of the models that worked for her mother. But since she wasn’t actually a model – and her daughter – that worked for her mother, there was some leeway. So when her mother wasn’t around it was Heaven and Callie was the goddess that ran it.

But now that Jay was going to be cooped up in the house with her while their parents were away on their honeymoon, the perfect image of two months of bliss came crashing around her like a football stadium being imploded with her standing on the fifty-yard line. And it would be the first time that they spent so much time together since their parents had become engaged. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

“Well,” Jay said, offering her his elbow. “Shall we?”

Though she didn’t want to, she slipped her arm through his larger and more muscular one. I might as well get this over with, she thought as the music hit the right note. She and Jay started forward.

The guests were cheering so loudly after her mother and stepfather said their vows that Callie allowed a small screech of disgust to issue from between her clenched teeth that she was positive everyone else mistook for a shrill of excitement. It wasn't disgusting for her new stepfather or that her mother was being married for the fourth time. It was because she knew that from here on there was no escaping Jay. It was going to be hell, being cooped up in her mother’s house with only him for company.

She pushed those thoughts aside as the bride and groom turned away from the minister – an old friend of her new stepfather’s – and looked out to the gathering of guests. The pair of them looked so happy that she almost felt bad about having such negative thoughts on a day like today.

Almost.

People threw flower petals in lieu of birdseed or rice, again it was her mother’s idea, and several of the small fluttering floral pieces traveled down the front of her dress, becoming trapped in her cleavage. She didn’t try to dig them out with so many people looking but kept her face happy and excited with emotions that she did not feel.

She and Jay rushed behind their parents as they walked happily hand-in-hand towards their waiting limo that was parked on the asphalt parking area just beyond the beach. They were covered in the flower petals just as much as their parents and Jay seized her hand and half-dragged her along with him, her high heels doing little to find purchase in the softer sand once they reached it.

There was a small rush of adrenaline at the feeling of his larger and more muscular hand clenched around hers. But the strength with which he grasped her quickly turned the adrenaline into a small rush of pain. She tried to free her hand, but Jay would not relinquish his grip.

She stumbled once, and Jay caught her, and she marveled, however briefly, at his strength as he hauled her back to her feet. And together they followed their parents to their waiting limo. Jay finally freed her hand and hugged his father while her mother turned from her new husband and embraced her. She could see tears of joy on her mother’s face – a typical fashion feature for her weddings – as she hugged her. In her ear, over her the cheers of the following crowd, she heard her mother’s voice.

“We’ll be back in time to see you off to school, sweetie. Have fun this summer.”

She smiled back at her mother, appreciating the sentiment. “Thanks, mom.”

With a final smile, her mother and her new stepfather were ushered into their limo and speedily drove off to an airport where a private jet was waiting to take them to whatever tropical paradise or European fashion event that they had decided to spend their first two months together at.

As they drove away, she watched the limo turn smaller and smaller down the street. And as went the bride and groom, so did the cheers of the witnesses who dropped whatever was left of their flower petals onto the sand and began to filter their way from the venue back to their parked sports cars or limos, their tasks done, their attendance no longer required.

She stood there on the beach beside Jay, watching their parents disappear. She felt a sting of dislike for her life for the next two months until their parents came back. The thought of living with Jay under the same roof held about as much appeal as going skinny dipping with hungry sharks. Still, it was a big house, and she knew it better than he did… maybe she could avoid him for the whole time. That seemed like a good idea.

“Well,” Jay said, “it’s just you and me now.” His voice was tinged with the kind of glee of a child about to enter into an amusement park.

“Yeah…” she said, already missing the presence of her mother and her overbearing demeanor. “It’s just you and me.”

The days after the wedding were simple and uneventful. With her mother, gone Callie became the official head of the household. Her mother – as a kind of a thank-you to her staff – had given most of them time off while she was away. There were plenty that had done so, and Callie was happy to have fewer people in the house as it felt then that the place was more her own than anything else. Those that remained were souls that favored service over liberty… and because they all knew that there would be a bonus waiting for them when her mother returned for their loyalty.

She had people to cook, clean, and tend the grounds so that she would not have to worry about it for herself. But there were few enough so that she was free to pick what clothes she would wear for herself, do her own hair, and even drive herself if she wanted. It was all a genuine taste of freedom.

She managed to avoid Jay at every turn. For the first few days, she didn’t even see him at all. None of the staff inquired about his whereabouts either, and she was content to let them go on with their lives, just as she did. She didn’t see him at meal times, nor did she accidentally bump into him in the halls, she didn’t even see him lounging by the pool as had been his custom when she had first met him.

It was as if he was simply invisible.

She was content to let him stay that way. However he chose to divert himself from her was fine, as long as she didn’t have to spend any time with him. Given her way she was happy to let him stay imperceptible until their parents returned. But knowing Jay, even for as little as she truly did, she imagined that he was out and about somewhere getting into more trouble.

As long as it doesn’t bother me, she thought icily.

Even though college was still months away, she busied herself with all of the little odds and ends necessary for school before it actually began. She checked, rechecked, and triple-checked her enrollment papers to be certain of which dorm she was going to be living in when she arrived there… the name of her future roommate… she memorized a map of the campus… had a look at the long list of classes she could take… whatever she wanted. She was undeclared for her major as yet, but her mother didn’t know that and the school – knowing the kind of money that her mother possessed – didn’t pressure her to pick one.

She was happy for that, the uncertainty of it all. To be able to choose what she wanted to study was just the first of many decisions that she would make during her academic career. And that there was no pressure to pick right now was an added relief. Decisions made without pressure were all too few in her life, and each and every one was a memorable and welcome time. That her entire future could be filled with them was an incredible feeling.

It was the second Monday after the wedding when her cell phone chirped at her, alerting her to a new text message. When she checked it, she saw that it was from her best friend, the only one that she could confide in with her every little secret. Cece was a friend from the days of kindergarten, back before her mom had made her millions in the fashion industry. Cece was more than a good friend in Callie’s eyes; she was a treasure, a reminder of what it was like to be normal. And their friendship didn’t stretch over a love of money or a desire to be famous or well-liked. Their friendship was more than that… it was authentic.

She smiled at the text message on her phone.

Need a wild night?

-C

She thought about it. She hadn’t gone out at all since the wedding and now that she thought of it, a night out would be kind of nice. Even if it was just to get away from the monotony of her school preparations. As well as Callie knew all of the in-spots for the wealthy and the elite, Cece knew all of the places where normal people would go to have their fun. Such places were ones where Callie could be invisible since no one would know her there.

The simplest of such places was nothing short of perfect.

She texted Cece back with an enthusiastic response. And her skin tingled at the thought of having a girl’s night out. Part of her was overly curious about what kind of a wild time that they would have.

It was called “The Pit” and it was, in a word, dark. Callie was more than a little surprised to find that Cece knew about it at all when they first drove up to it. The reason being that Cece usually favored the normal kinds of clubs and restaurants when the pair of them went out; places where they could dance, eye the boys, and like that. This was not such a place.

On the outside, it was a red brick building that looked like it could have been built during Prohibition. The brick was old and weathered, and the building’s windows were aged and yellowed from time with old and rusty iron bars over them. The front doors were guarded by three very large and burly looking men that had tattoos covering every last inch of their bare skin… the kind of people she would have expected to see guarding the gates of Hell.

“I’ve seen this in a movie before,” Callie said looking up at the place, “this is where the drug lords come for a relaxing night out… and they feed people to crocodiles or something?”

Cece laughed at her. “You watch too many movies.”

Once they got in line, she saw how accurate Cece was in her assertion. The place was not what she expected… at least on the outside. She was surprised to see a blend of people standing in line, waiting for their chance to enter. They were sorted mostly into two groups.

There were people who were clad in black leather, bandannas, sunglasses, and riding chaps that looked fit to be in motorcycle gangs. The collection of motorcycles parked on the street or in the nearby parking lot certainly supported that theory. There were also a collection of younger people, clad in leather jackets and loose fitting jeans wearing logos that she recognized as belonging to speed bikes or adrenaline games. In short, they were the kind of people she expected to see riding crotch rocket motorcycles. Both were collections of people that she would have been afraid to be alone in the same room with under any other circumstances.

What balanced that was the other half of the crowd that was gathering. Mixed among the biker crowds were people that she was more familiar with: the rich. There were men and women in elegant and expensive suits or dresses, expensive wristwatches, and sports cars that would have fetched a very nice price in the right chop shop. Enough baubles hung from the necks of the women that she felt certain that any moment one of the bikers would reach out and try to steal those gems from around their necks. But the gems went untouched, and Callie was amazed at it. It was like watching sharks ignoring bloody meats hanging freely in the water.

What she couldn’t really understand is why people like this – polar opposites of the money world – would choose to gather in a place like this. She could understand one-half of the crowd gathering here, but not so the other. She had seen similar things during her mother’s fashion shows – where everyone was equally rich, famous, or at least from similar circles – where fights tended to break out.

Amazingly, there was no sense of animosity from the crowd that she could detect. There was no sense of class struggle. She would have thought that a gathering of people like this was like trying to keep fire and oil from igniting. But the atmosphere seemed neutral… relaxed even. She saw some of the rich men offering cigarettes to the bikers and they laughed with each other at some joke or another as if they were old friends reunited after a long time apart.

It was like she had stepped into another world.

But from its looks and the people that seemed to be pouring into the place, this was not the kind of place that she and Cece would have ventured to, that was for sure.

“Cece,” she whispered to her friend, “what is this place?”

Her friend turned to her and smiled. Cece was small and slender where Callie was large and buxom. Cece’s red hair flashed in the glowing neon signs of the club, and her pale skin shone brightly under the artificial lights. Her dress was simple, the kind of thing that a normal person would wear. “What does it look like, genius?”

Callie looked around and looked back to her friend incredulously. “It looks like a dive bar where bad things happen.”

Cece only smirked. “Oh… it’s more than that, friend. It’s so much more.”

They waited in line for only a few more minutes before they were able to pay their way inside, but every fiber of Callie’s body was torn down the middle between staying and going. Half of her was curious, the other half was cautious. In the end, curiosity won out. She knew Cece well enough to know that she wouldn’t take her someplace dangerous… not unless the danger was worth it.

Once they passed through the doors, she surveyed the inside and found that Cece had not been wrong in saying that this place was so much more than a dive bar. And at first glance, it was clear that the place had been rearranged for some special event.

She had expected to find the smell of cigarette and cigar smoke and maybe the lingering odor of spilled beer in the air. But what she found instead was a relatively passive atmosphere that smelled of nothing but the smell of cleaning agents and something that was even fragrant, though she couldn’t identify it. She had thought to find peanut shells on the floor or broken glass, but the floor looked pristine, like the inside of an office building but covered in a layer of thick and overlapping plastic. It had seemed obvious that she would find tables, maybe made out of salvaged steel grates and chairs bolted to the floor to keep occupants from hammering each other with them if they got too drunk. But what she found in their place was bleachers arranged around some kind of a cage in the center of the room.

Callie had seen enough TV to know a fighting cage when she saw one. And the force of which the realization hit her was like being struck in the chest by a truck. “Cece…?” she said, turning to her friend as the people slowly trickled their way into the stands, where numerous people were already sitting and talking excitedly with one another.

“I found this place last week,” Cece said excitedly. “It’s an MMA arena.”

“MMA?” Callie asked, having heard the term before but she had no idea what it meant.

“Mixed Martial Arts,” Cece explained excitedly. “This is a fight club… or at least it is tonight. It’s not exactly on the circuit for the pros, but some of the champs that are on TV and all that started out in places just like this.”

Callie disregarded the excited explanation and shook her head. “You know… when you asked if I wanted a wild night, I didn’t imagine that it would involve watching two guys try and beat the shit out of each other.”

Cece smirked mischievously. “That’s why I didn’t say anything… and believe me, you’ll thank me when it’s over.”

Callie wanted to argue the point but didn’t. College was only months away, and she had never really been one to walk on the wild side in her life. She had always imagined that college would be full of such things and that there would be a time for it. But still… this place was so out of her usual comfort zone that she thought that maybe Cece was right. Maybe she should do something wild… something savage. Blood sports had never really been her thing and maybe that was why Cece had decided to bring her here. Because it was time to try something new… something fresh.

She shrugged to herself. What could it hurt?

They found seats in the stands on the north side of the cage and people found their seats around them. There was a competitive feeling in the air as the first pair of fighters stepped into the ring and she saw what Cece had meant by thanking her. Only she didn’t wait until things were over, she thanked Cece now because the first two contestants were nothing short of gods in tight shorts.

She had only ever seen muscle like that on men that posed for underwear commercials or in cheesy lifeguard movies. But these were better because they were real. So real that she could almost literally reach out and touch them. And she wanted to touch them… very much. Their abs were sculpted to the point where she thought she could grate cheese on them… their shoulders were broad… powerful… their legs as thick as tree trunks… their arms were wonderfully built. One of them looked like he was about forty or so, the other about thirty. Despite their age each of them looked handsome in their own way.

“Told you,” Cece said over the shouts and applause of the other spectators in the stands. Callie didn’t need to be told twice. She saw the appeal in this place now, brutish as it was. If she couldn’t delight in the violence of it all, she could delight in the eye-candy.

She watched with a detached interest as the fights began, her eyes focused only on the fighters and the shapes of their bodies. But somewhere along the way she developed an interest the actual sporting event. It all began to happen so fast that she barely had time to register it all. It was like watching a boxing match, but inside a chain-link fenced cage where fighters were allowed to kick as well as punch.

The crowd was electric, their cheers and their applause filling the air with such energy that she couldn’t believe that such a power source could not be tapped and profited from. There were cries of anguish… of agony… of glee… of blood… Some of the spectators screamed encouragement for one fighter or another while others screamed derogatory remarks for the other.

One pair after another two men moved about inside the cage like two fish swimming in the same small bowl at first. Occasionally kicking… punching… grappling… striking… or even body-slamming one another when they could. Stains of blood appeared on the matted floor of the arena… sometimes from one fighter or another pressing his face against the mat. Sometimes they spat the blood out, along with a tooth or two, sometimes the blood dripped from fresh cuts or scrapes on their faces.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking at as the fights went on, but by the end of the fifth or sixth pair of fighters, she thought she understood the basics of the rules. The fights weren’t so much about technique as they were about strategy. She knew nothing about the various fighting styles of the world, and she imagined that seeing movies was no substitute for real-world knowledge, but she could tell right off that no two fighters used the same techniques as the others.

Some of the moves that the fighters used reminded her of wrestling. Some of them reminded her of Kung Fu movies that she had seen as a child. Some of their attacks were powerful kicks… others relied on heavy punches… some preferred to slam their opponents to the ground and twisting arms and legs to force them to submit. She couldn’t determine if there really was any one particular set of skills involved or not. But there at least was a point system involved, and points were given or taken away depending on how well a particular attack was delivered or deflected. The matches were won by knockout, tap out, or fought to a draw from what she could tell. It was a lot to take in and make sense of.

But the rules of the fights were hardly what had captivated her attention, she decided. All that struck her were the fighters… almost with as much force as how they struck each other. There was something that was simply captivating in looking at them. Muscle… mass… ferocity… the very danger of it even held some appeal.

And it wasn’t the violence that caught her attention. It was everything else. It was how messy their hair got… the way the sweat glistened on their hardened bodies… the rippling of their muscles as they struck at each other… the grunts they made as they delivered punches… the groans as they absorbed kicks… the way they tackled each other on the mat. Yes, there was something beastly about it, but there was also something else. Something… enticing… something that was worthy of closer inspection.

Much closer.

Callie had never been attracted to men like this and until now she had never really thought about why. Growing up as she did she had always associated such things with an environment such as this: dark, violent, bloody, something that was altogether not appropriate for someone of her standing in society.

A standing that I’ve tried my whole life to ignore, she thought as she watched the fighters circle and beat each other in the ring.

Sure, most of the men that she watched in the cage had tattoos up and down their legs, their arms, their chests and bellies, their necks, their backs, and even on their faces. But somehow, their conduct in the ring allowed her to see past what she had been taught to think. They weren’t trying to bludgeon each other to death. There was sportsmanship involved. When a referee blew the whistle, they stopped. When one of them tapped out, all sense of violence and aggression ceased, and when one of them was knocked out and revived then the victor helped the loser to his feet. There was something admirable in all of that.

“And now…” said the announcer in the center of the ring as the last two fighters cleared out and cleaning crews stepped in to clean up what they could of the blood from off the mat. “The final event of the evening that you’ve all been waiting for!”

The crowd cheered, and Callie brought her eyes upon the announcer. The man was skinny, and his hair was slicked back as though he had dipped his head in a bucket of oil and his suit looked only half as expensive as the rich men that had come here to witness the matches. He stood in the center of the ring, clutching a microphone in his hand and speaking in circles to the crowd at large.

“Our challenger for the evening, weighing in at two hundred forty-five pounds, coming to us all the way from the Las Vegas Fighting Circuit… please put your hands together for Luis “Tonto” Rosales!” the skinny announcer said aloud.

From the hallway where all of the fighters had been sequestered came another fighter. This one was of Latin stock, and his hair was short and spiked on top, and despite what the announcer had said he looked like he wore just enough muscle to be light and fast. He was dressed in the usual MMA uniform… shirtless and barefoot, but with a pair of black fighting shorts. Callie found her eyes drawn to him, he was handsome, but she had seen others tonight that was more to her liking.

The fighter, Tonto, ascended the metal steps and slipped inside the cage, bouncing lightly on his feet like a boxer might and raising his hands to move the crowd to more cheers. There were more than a few wolf-whistles from the ladies in the audience, Callie noticed. She couldn’t blame them.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! This is it!” Cece said enthusiastically, bouncing in her seat. “This is it! This is the one that I wanted you to really see!”

“And now, our reigning champion for two solid years, weighing in at two hundred fifty-one pounds… he hails from parts unknown… give a round of applause for Odin!” There was a roar of deafening cries of approval from the crowd, and even Callie felt swept up in it as her eyes searched for the fighter the announcer had just described. The name alone sounded mysterious… the rest sounded yummy.

She turned and watched as the second fighter emerged from the private corridor. What she saw stole her breath away as if a vacuum had been hooked up to her lungs. Emerging from the darkened corridor was a hulking figure of a man, shrouded partly in shadow. But every step he took brought him further and further into the light.

His muscles were so finely sculpted it was as if he were a marble sculpture brought to life. His shoulders were wide, his body forming an almost “V” shape, though his waist was perfectly shaped as well. While she had admired the other fighters that had come into the arena, she found that this one had abs she could have climbed like a jungle gym.

His arms were thick, full of sinew that looked like it could have crushed boulders. His legs looked powerful, tense like they could have stomped mountains flat. His chest was bare, and his pectoral muscles were so finely developed she thought she could have ironed a shirt on his chest, and he wouldn’t have felt the heat. She was able to discern a few tattoos that she couldn’t make out the shape of on his belly, chest, and neck. His head was shaved, and when he smiled, she saw the flash of golden teeth behind his lips.

Jay?!

The thought was confirmed when he stepped fully into the light and the crowd – save for herself – rose to its feet and cheered wildly at his approach. Callie only sat where she was in stunned silence.

It felt as if someone had just cracked a lead pipe over her head. Though the crowd was alive and on its feet with excitement, she couldn’t move. It felt like liquid nitrogen had just been pumped into her heart and a shard of ice had been plunged through her eye. Her mind was befuddled, and her heart seemed to freeze…

She knew in an instant that the thoughts she had just been having… the kind that admired Jay’s body… his looks… his mannerisms… were wrong. But at the same instant, she relished the feeling that they gave her. There was something warm about them… there was a certain kind of a rush of adrenaline to them. There was something dark… something forbidden… but somehow, irresistible to those feelings.

Though the roar of the crowd was massive, she didn’t hear a single thing as the fight started. It was like she had been dipped into some kind of syrup that distorted time itself. Everything seemed to move slower… become duller… muted… heavy… it was hard to describe.

She watched Jay… Odin… whatever his name was as he moved through the cage. She forgot all about the other fighter, Tonto, and her eyes rested solely on Jay. She watched almost memorizing the shape of his body. How he moved… the way veins in his arm seemed to throb as his muscles tensed… the way his abs seemed to become harder when he took a punch to the belly, the way his chest expanded and retracted as he breathed. It was like watching some kind of an organic machine at work. It was… beautiful.

It was like watching light dance. It was like watching a landslide that somehow didn’t turn out to be destructive. It was like watching a tornado shrink into human form. It was just… unnatural… and hard to take her eyes away from.

The fight was over before she realized it.

Tonto laid face-down on the mat as medics rushed into the cage to check him. After only a few seconds one of them gave the wave off to the referee to show that he was unconscious. The ref blew his whistle, and the match came to an end, and the crowd cheered. Jay – Odin – thrust both his fists into the air as if summoning more enthusiasm from the crowd and channeling their energy into himself.

Callie stood fixed to the spot. A jumble of thoughts went through her mind in no particular order. And all the while she was still unable to tear her eyes away from Jay’s body.

Cece doesn’t know who he is, I never introduced them! This explains his teeth! Does his father know? This is why I haven’t seen him all week! Fuck, he looks so good! What would Cece say if I told her that he was my stepbrother? How did I not know this about him? What would he say if he saw me? How can he get away with doing something like this? What’s wrong with me?

If she felt rooted to the spot right then, it became worse when he turned in the cage as if surveying the crowd… and saw her.

She held her breath like he was some kind of a predator and had set his sights on her, her only defense becoming to hold as still as she could. At first, she thought to see disgust… shame… even surprise behind his eyes when he saw her. They had never been really close, the two of them. And that she didn’t entirely like him had been plain from the beginning.

If I had known… she thought desperately… If only I had known…

He lowered his arms and continued to stare at her. She didn’t see any sign of dislike or disgust from him. In fact… what she saw was only… delight?

The rest of the crowd seemed to pick up on the fact that his attention was focused somewhere else. Peripherally she could see many pairs of eyes combing through the crowd, looking for whatever it was that he had fixed his attention upon. But apparently, they were at a loss to find what held his attention so firmly.

The commentator stepped up and began to speak again, though she wasn’t listening. Neither was Jay, by the look of it. He turned and stepped out of the ring, and she watched him as he went, thankful that she would soon be relieved of the burden of having to look at him so awkwardly… no! He turned, rounding the ring… heading towards her!

Though the crowd had been jumping and jeering at him, screaming his name and baying for more action, she would have thought that any of them – especially the women – would have mobbed him, throwing their bodies at him. But none of them did any such thing. It was as if he were a god… the best kind… one that came down to earth to mingle with mortals. No one got in his way as he approached her and as he came to stand in front of her, it seemed obvious to all that it was she that held his attention.

She was mortified to be at the center of attention of so many others. It was worse now that it had been at the wedding. Even Cece looked from her to him and back, wondering how – and why – she of all people had captivated his attention.

She tried to speak, but no words came out.

Jay did not speak either. Instead, he did something much more… profound.

He leaned in and kissed her. One hand grasped at the back of her neck and gently guided her mouth to his.

It was not a brotherly kiss. It was the kind of kiss that was given from one lover to another. She could taste him… and in more ways than one. She could taste his sweat… his breath… even the strangest feeling of being able to taste the gold in his mouth filled her. She could feel his muscles throbbing in his hand… she could feel his heart beating… she could even feel the warmth that his body radiated after his exertions. And all of it, put together, drew her in. That feeling of something forbidden yet so easily within reach filled her… and she didn’t want to let go of it.

But he let go of her.

He broke their kiss and flashed that familiar multi-million-dollar smile at her as he turned and walked away. Callie felt like she had been welded to her chair, her eyes, lips, legs, and hands were all frozen as if she had just been visited by a god that overpowered her very reason and ability to move.

Maybe I have been, she thought as he walked away. She saw looks of contempt from some of the other women as Jay – Odin – walked casually back towards the private chambers of the fighters. She saw looks of astonishment and wonder from some of the men… likely that they thought that Odin’s tastes were of a different nature. But the one that surprised her most was Cece, who sat next to her with a beaming expression on her face as she reached out and shook Callie by the shoulders as if shaking life back into her.

“Oh… my… god!” Cece said excitedly. “I envy you!”

Callie didn’t have the ability to respond aloud. But in her mind, all she could think was, Really? Because lust is the sin that I have in mind…

When Cece dropped her off back home again, the night was turning into morning. Callie had barely noticed the time go by, her mind was swirling with so many thoughts that time wasn’t really at the fore of any of it.

When she entered the house, everything was dark or powered down for the night. Only minimal lighting existed for anyone that needed to make their way about for whatever reason. The place seemed somewhat eerie when at night and she was content to return to her room, sit in silence, and try and make sense out of everything that she had seen, heard, and experienced tonight.

Why not learn it all straight from the source?

The idea held so much appeal that she stopped in her tracks and despite her misgivings about it, she lent some serious thought to the problem. But despite her desire to want to know more, only a single thought kept recurring in her mind.

He’s my stepbrother.

Normally, such a thing was like high walls to an invading army: meant to keep others out. It was a point from which others did not try to pass unless they had a good reason to. But her mind – and her mouth – still tingled with what had happened at the cage. She could still taste Jay… still feel him… and she wanted more. And the knowledge that neither her mother nor her stepfather was in the house, leaving her nor Jay more or less alone, somehow seemed to make this forbidden apple all the juicier.

I want a bite… she decided.

She turned and went off towards Jay’s room in a rush. Maybe it was curiosity… or rage… or just plain bewilderment that guided her there, but she tried very hard not to let it be lust that carried her feet to his door. Even if it was, she wanted to be certain that is what it was before she did anything… questionable.

When she arrived there, the door was closed. She wrapped her knuckles rapidly on the door. “Jay!”

There was a stirring within that sent bolts of lightning up through her feet all the way to her brain. She heard the sound of footsteps coming closer and in the span of those few precious seconds she found herself wishing that he hadn’t been there. She hadn’t even thought of what it was that she could say. Or do… both suddenly seemed like terrifying prospects.

When the door opened, Jay stood there, nearly as he had been at the cage. The image was both electric and terrifying. Cece had not shut up on the whole ride over as to how envious she was about how Callie had been able to kiss Odin! She had gone on some long rant about his looks… his muscles… his general bad-boy demeanor. And with every syllable that Cece spoke, it felt like she was describing a buried treasure that only Callie knew how to find.

She saw now that Cece had been right. He was shirtless, his tattoos were displayed prominently, but he wore a pair of jeans and tennis shoes that made him look somehow more appetizing… like a sexy cowboy, but better. He had an ice pack in one hand that was pressed against his abs, and he again wore his million-dollar smile at the sight of her.

“J-Jay…” she said, finding that her voice was trying to abandon her, and she felt her cheeks flush.

He only continued to smile.

She searched for something to say, but all of her words seemed to flee from her mouth as soon as they arrived there. She could think of plenty to say, but her mouth simply refused to acknowledge it. But her eyes began to comb over his body and it seemed that they did the talking for her, asking all the questions that her mouth failed to produce.

“I’ve been doing this a long time,” Jay said, leaning against the door frame, his muscles bulging delightfully under his own weight, somehow making him look bigger than he already was. She found her mouth going dry at the sight of it. “Dad thought it would be a good way for me to meet people… and to learn how to intimidate them.” He shrugged. “I bet he didn’t expect that I would reach this level, though.”

Callie was still speechless, trying to form words but none issued from her mouth.

“It’s a bit funny, isn’t it? My dad being who is… everyone thinks that I’m a rich man’s son… born with a silver spoon in my ass. But when I climb into that ring… it’s like I’m wearing a cloak of invisibility. It’s like I’m hiding behind someone else’s face. And I love it. It’s an amazing feeling.”

Her mouth hung slightly agape, but still, there were no words that left her.

“I started actually competing about three years ago,” Jay went on, not caring if she said anything or not. “Won the first few fights pretty easy and I put on enough muscle to graduate into the next weight class. Before I knew it, I was tossing around every guy that I came up against in every division. I took a few hits… lost a few teeth…” he said, flashing his expensive choppers. “Then one night, this guy from the UFC shows up and says, ‘You know, you’re pretty good. Ever think about doing this sort of thing professionally? It could happen… and it could be you. Here’s my card. Give me a call.’ And, well, I’ve been doing that ever since.”

She listened, wanting to speak, but her tongue refused to cooperate.

“So far as my dad knows I just compete in unaffiliated arenas. He doesn’t know that I’m this close to hitting it big. But he thinks a few bruises… my missing teeth… even the bones that I broke after the first few fights were good. ‘It builds character,’ he said. He thinks that if I can show the world that I can take a punch… that I can be intimidating… that one day, when I’m running the company… no one will want to mess with me. That fear of what I can do physically will keep everyone else in line.”

Callie managed to form together some incoherent words, but Jay kept on speaking as though he had not heard.

“For a while, I thought that he was right. I mean, if people knew that I could knock a guy out… twist him into an unnatural shape… break his bones… or cause kidney failure… who would be brave enough to try and screw me in the business world? I have a degree you know. Yeah, I do, in business management. Full ride scholarship I got from Princeton. Dad’s money didn’t even have to enter into it… they didn’t even know who my dad was. I finished school in three years… I was only eighteen. That was three years ago… right about the time I started doing this.” He paused and took away the ice pack, revealing the complete set of his abs and Callie found herself – unashamedly – relishing the sight. A bruise rested on his side, and part of her felt the overwhelming sense to want to caress and cradle that injury… to nourish it… make it feel better… however, Jay wanted.

“But you know what, Callie? I’ve realized something in the last three years. The more I fight… the less I care about running dad’s company.”

This time, she found herself legitimately unable to speak. The words he spoke were so profound that it was as if he had formed a fist and punched her in the solar plexus. His father owned his own company, one of the top 10 in the Fortune 500… and he didn’t care to run it?

“I like it,” he said simply. “The fights… the crowds… it’s like I’m in control of my life. And that’s an incredible adrenaline rush.” He looked her over, and her skin danced as his eyes went from her feet all the way up to her eyes and they lingered there as if locked on by laser guidance. “I was just like you when I went off to college, Callie. I studied what my dad wanted me to study… business… because that was what was expected of me and I didn’t have enough of a damn mind to think I could decide for myself.”

She felt words stirring within herself but was still unable to speak. She wanted to say that she hadn’t yet decided what she was going to study when she went away to school and that she was capable of making up her own mind. But he cut her off before she could speak and she was lost in her own thoughts.

“But there is something else that I like about the fighting too…” he said, a playful smile dancing across the folds of his lips. “It’s not the fame… I could care less about that. It’s not even the money… I’ve already got plenty of that.” He leaned in close to her, just as he had at the bar, and she felt her heart suddenly climb up into her throat with anticipation… “What I like most… is the women.” He tilted his head to one side as if he did intend to kiss her, but didn’t. “And I don’t mean I like them in general. The ones that throw themselves at me… they’re a dime a dozen. I could have two or even three of them at a time if I wanted… they’re desperate to try and hitch themselves to me somehow. But you know what?” He leaned in closer, so close that she could taste his breath again on the air, and she tried to subtly suck in every last bit of it. “It’s the ones that I can’t have that I want the most. The ones that are married… engaged…” he arched an eyebrow tauntingly, “or my stepsister.” He licked his lips, the tip of his tongue just gently brushing against her bottom lip. “But you know what… chasing them… trying to get them to fold… that is what makes it fun.”

Her heart began to beat with such rapidity within her throat it felt like there was a drum beating inside her windpipe. And it came to a crescendo when he leaned in closer... So close that a sliver of an inch was all that was between them. And in a voice so gentle that she had to strain to hear it he said, “I like the way they lust after me but try to keep themselves in check. They don’t want me for my money… or my fame… but for me.” He teasingly flexed his muscles, and she felt herself shudder, awed by the sight of so much flesh that she felt weakened just by looking at it. Even a night at a women’s club with male strippers one night with Cece had not produced this kind of a result in her.

And with that, he retracted from her, a sinister smile on his face and he retreated back into his room, closing the door as if he were sealing her in the hall where she could not touch him, both figuratively and literally. And once closed she stood there, somehow muter than she was a minute before.

She had learned everything… but somehow she had managed to gain nothing. Nothing except the notion that, despite her deepest feelings, that she knew she wanted more.

Much more.

As days went by she wrestled with the morality of her predicament. Socially she knew right from wrong: this sort of thing was taboo. It wasn’t supposed to happen… at least not socially. But biologically on the other hand… Well, it’s kind of a gray area. Sure, this wasn’t incest… not really. No chance of contaminating a gene pool or anything. But every time she thought about it, she found herself getting online and looking up instances where such things had happened in the past and to more historically important people.

Kings… queens… princes and princesses… business tycoons… musicians… authors… movie stars… gangsters… people that were famous the world over for one thing or another had fallen victim to what she now felt herself enshrouded by. It was a hard thing to be sure and certainly frowned upon by most. But the careers of many had not been deterred by what had happened to them. In fact, some people – including historians – had been pretty light-hearted about the whole thing. True incest was certainly a big no-no, but this…?

It was a strange thing, really. Some women wound up having affairs with their stepsons. Some of them had even gone on to write books on it or their diaries published after the fact, and they all seemed pretty happy with their choices. Some of them were ecstatic, really. Some men had begun to have affairs with their stepdaughters. Cousins had affairs with other cousins. By-marriage uncles and aunts had affairs with nephews and nieces… there was almost no end to it all. Some of it was sickening… but again, there was also something delightfully about it. Not just because it was forbidden… but because it was so easy to start and to get away with if one planned it just right, as some did.

And it wasn’t as if things like that were entirely damning. Many of the people she researched had managed to get away with their sordid affairs, both out of the public eye and even within it. While many of them did end, they still ended amicably… only a few ended terribly. Fewer still ended quite terribly and were cautionary tales if nothing else.

But still… there was something so damn alluring about this that she couldn’t shut her mind off to it. It was like a dream that she had woken from and tried to get back to sleep each night trying to pick up where she left off.

She did so even when she was awake, trying to make her dreams a reality.

Then one day, it seemed as if her fantasy had taken a giant leap towards becoming real. As she had woken from a restless sleep, she found a piece of paper that had been slipped under her door. On it, very sloppily written, was a series of addresses, dates, and times. She knew at once what it was: Jay’s fighting schedule. And she knew at once who it had been left by.

He’s testing me… teasing me… she thought with a delightful grin. It was what he wanted, after all. He wanted her to chase him, simply because he couldn’t have her. And it was that attraction that made her want him all the more. But for now, she found herself wanting to dance to the tune that he played. There could be something fun at the end.

Not wanting to bring Cece into it – though she felt only marginally guilty for doing so – she started attending the matches.

One week after another went by and at least one day out of those weeks she saw Jay at his most primal… at his most appealing. The shorts… the sweat… the muscle… the heavy breathing… even the blood. It all lent her imagination to more carnal pursuits.

It was like watching a magic dance, the way he fought. The way he moved was unreal. Most fighters that went up against him were able to land one or two punches, maybe a few kicks, only one had ever been successful in grappling him on the ground he was so good. But Jay managed to get his way out of it… like his body was coated in grease, and no one could hold onto him. And when he fought, he struck with strength… vigor… and with an endurance that somehow seemed to make Callie damp in her panties thinking about how he could apply that kind of power to more interesting wrestling matches.

That she could be aroused by something so barbaric had never even occurred to her. That she could be attracted to someone like him even less so. Even movie violence had never done anything like that for her, not even when it was the hottest movie stars getting sweaty and bloody. What she saw with her own two eyes, with honest flesh and blood, was somehow more endearing. And when it was Jay that she was admiring it felt all the more appealing.

A kind of dance evolved from their mutual outings. She would go and watch him fight. She would cheer for him. She would stand up and dance when he won. She would show her favor… her appreciation… whatever he wanted if only he would ask. But he never did. And at the end of every bout, he would turn and see her, as if he had never seen her before, and just as he had the first time he would step out of the ring and kiss her.

If there were ever any repeat spectators in the different arenas where he fought she never saw them. No one ever seemed to think that this was some kind of a gimmick for him. But that it made skinny and – at least what some would call more attractive – women as jealous as hell pleased her to no end. To be the object of “affection” for a man who dominated the ring like Odin was like a trophy that she had won and would never be able to top.

Their game seemed to be growing more and more intricate as the weeks went by. But it had yet to become more intimate like she found herself wanting. Everything was still so forbidden that she couldn’t stop herself from wanting it more and more. Outside of the house, where no one knew either of them, he was a champion fighter and she… she was no one that just happened to be someone he wanted to kiss.

After each fight, their kisses grew longer and longer. She had silently counted the seconds that went by, growing by no more than a single second each time. It wasn’t until his eighth fight that he kissed her long enough to slip his tongue past her lips. If his previous kisses had been like lightning bolts, then his tongue was the thunder, and she could feel the impact of it all the way down in the pit of her stomach.

The dance took on a more interesting – and exciting – twist when they returned home after each fight. And after each day where he spent his time healing – if he was really injured at all – Callie found herself trying to bump into Jay in the halls of their nearly-deserted home rather than trying to avoid him. Part of her hoped that they would forego their dance and just skip to the main event when opportunity knocked.

She tried to encounter him surreptitiously in the kitchen… the dining room… the laundry room… in the hall outside his room… the library… the pool… the gardens… anywhere where they could be alone. She wanted to be alone with him. She made overt comments about it as the days went by.

“…so much space it’s like we’re all alone out here…”

“Nobody comes down to do their own laundry for at least another hour.”

“…having a hard time keeping my bathing suit on…”

“Looking for something in poetry… it always gets me in the mood.”

One after another she tried every little trick that she knew. But after each attempt, he only smiled that damn enriched expression at her and walked away without saying a word. Her reservations about the morality of their relationship grew dimmer and dimmer with the passing of every day until they were gone entirely. Her desire – her lust – was becoming heavier than any heavyweight champ that ever lived. After every fight that she saw him in she found she could not stop thinking about him… imagining him – imagining them – together. She imagined those powerful arms encasing her. She imagined those hands, which had delivered powerful punches, gently caressing her skin. She wanted to feel her legs wrapped around that muscular waist of his. She wanted to find out if his cock was just as strong as his other two legs. The idea of so much power suddenly becoming gentle – or even rough in some cases – was more potent than wine.

But more than anything, she wanted a kiss that lasted longer than fifteen seconds, as had been the record, with just a little bit of tongue thrown into it. She wanted to feel his power again like she had that first night. While every little kiss had memorable and powerful, she found that she was getting tired of the appetizers. She wanted the main course.

But as the weeks rolled by and her efforts to lure him into a tryst had evidently failed she found her hopes beginning to wane. She felt like a fisherman who realized too late that she had used the wrong bait when trying to catch a particular kind of fish. And with her nets empty and her hooks untouched, it was time to return to port.

Only there’s no waiting to try again tomorrow, she reflected.

With a heavy heart, she checked her calendar and saw that the time of her mother and stepfather’s return from their honeymoon was rapidly approaching. And with that knowledge tucked away in the back of her mind she knew that any hopes that she had of getting what she wanted would go from hopeful to hopeless with every passing hour. With her mother and father returning to the house, the staff that her mother had given the extended leave to would surely be returning, making it next to impossible for the two of them to be alone. And after that, there was no hope of having a tryst as she had imagined it with Jay.

Fuck!

The day preceding the return of her mother and stepfather had been the mass return of all of the house staff that had taken their time off and suddenly returned. They all systematically picked up their duties where they left off. Every time she left her bedroom there were people vacuuming the carpets… cleaning the drapes… mopping the floors… mowing the lawns… washing dishes… folding sheets… trimming trees… cleaning the pool… they were everywhere. They were like ants paid to do a rich woman’s bidding.

The day following, her mother returned with her stepfather in tow. The pair of them talking on their cell phones as they entered, barely having time to give her and Jay so much as a look of acknowledgment as they were so wrapped up in their own business. This wasn’t the happy couple that she remembered seeing on the beach the day of the wedding. It was more like they had already been married for years and had gotten to the point where they had four-way conversations, speaking to each other while talking to someone else on their cell phones. In some ways she considered that to be a balanced marriage.

“Welcome home, mom,” she said softly to her mother’s back after receiving a small hug from her after she’d walked away.

She sighed and looked to Jay, who had only received a warm pat on the shoulder from his father as he too walked into the house, gabbing on his phone. She had hoped for some look of sympathy from him. Maybe a sly and secretive smile… oh, hell; she was hoping that he would kiss her right then and there. But as per usual, all he did was give her that golden and simple smile until he turned and walked away.

With her mother and father finally returned to the house – and her chances of being able to leave the house whenever she wanted to watch Jay fight, she resumed some of her old habits. She focused on college, going over things that she had already memorized and making sure that she had committed them to memory. Once or twice she found time to go out with Cece, but for simpler and tamer things since Cece had said that taking her to any more fights was dangerous.

“I don’t want you winning over more of the cute ones,” Cece had said jokingly.

As the final month of her summer began to draw to an end, Callie found that there was a pit in her stomach. It was like a hunger that she had not fulfilled. Like there was some thrill that had yet to be had… some desire that went unsatisfied. It was like she had gone to an amusement park and not gotten to ride her favorite ride. She knew what it was, and she knew how to resolve it, but there was no help for it. She had tried, once or twice more when opportunity allowed, to attempt to bring Jay into some private space where they could be alone even if only for a short time. But her efforts, as they had before, failed. All she ever managed to get from him was that damn smile that was both priceless and worthless at the same time.

The night before she was to leave was a big event. Her mother had the cooks prepare her favorite dish, lasagna with spiced wine. Her stepfather disguised advice on what not to do like stories of how he had been so reckless during his days in college. And Jay only sat in silence, listening to his father and her mother, and barely giving her a glance. As if he wasn’t affected in the slightest that she was leaving.

She supposed that he wasn’t.

As soon as she was gone, he would find some other woman to play his games with. He would find some other woman to want him… to chase him… after she was gone. He would be like a cat that just found some other toy to play with.

Oddly, she found herself jealous of that next toy that he found.

When dinner was finished, her mother did the genuine mother ritual of being slightly weepy over her departure. Her flight would be leaving early in the morning if she was to arrive at the campus on time and there would be no time for her to eat before she left the house. And while her mother went on this short burst of emotion, Jay and his dad excused themselves so that they would have their dining room alone to share a final tender moment. “Oh, this will be your last meal in the house until you come home for Christmas!” It wasn’t much of a display, but Callie appreciated it for what it was. She could come home every weekend if she really wanted, her mother wouldn’t even feel the pinch for the private jet and the fuel expenses, but she knew better than to say as much. Still, it was as heartwarming a thing as she had experienced since her mother left for her honeymoon.

She wandered back to her room in silence. The house was quiet, most of the staff had gone home for the evening, and she felt a small pang of excitement at the thought of leaving. Tomorrow she would be on her way to higher education and would not see her home for at least five months and in that time she would learn, grow, and generally become something more than she was when she left.

When she reached her door, she halted.

Her door was open… slightly. And she could see that there was a light on inside… and she could hear the sound of running water from her shower. She knew at once that it had not been her that had left the water running. And it was too late in the night for someone to be cleaning her room.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Could it be…?

She gently bit her lip and pushed her door open, peering inside. The steam from her shower wafted through the air. She couldn’t smell the body wash that she used or anything else. There was just the steam that somehow managed to permeate the air more than any of the fragrance oils or soaps that she used.

As she stepped in, she saw the full-length mirror that took up the entire wall of her bathroom. And reflected in it was one of the most awe-inspiring things that she had ever seen in her life.

Jay was in her shower.

He stood as naked as any depiction of a Greek god captured in marble, but harder and more lifelike. Water dripped from off of his body at every angle of his body. It fell like rain from off of his neck… his elbows… his chin. His hair was soaked, and the water streamed down his body in thin rivulets. It was like watching a mountain stream wash over rocks in a gently running river, but more beautiful.

His eyes were closed as he looked into the flowing shower, allowing the water to a caress his skin. Though he was being cleaned, there was something dirty about the whole thing that she felt herself being tangled in and quickly.

She stepped quietly into her room and without needing to be told she closed the door behind her, sealing their privacy. And though she doubted it would have helped at all, she locked the door, hoping that this would at the very least assure that it would be all the harder for him to leave.

She walked slowly into the bathroom, the heat from the shower reaching her skin and coaxing small beads of sweat from her skin. She stood in the doorway, simply watching him as the water washed over his body. Jealous of every drop that touched him in places she had only ever dreamed about.

“Don’t say anything,” he said softly, his voice barely louder than the rush of the water. And though his eyes were closed and not watching her she felt the weight of interest upon her. “Take your clothes off… and get in here with me.”

Without intended to do so, she got out of her clothes more quickly than she would have liked. All the while he kept his eyes closed and that added to her haste. She wanted him to see her… to touch her… to feel her both inside and out. And before a minute had elapsed she had stripped herself of her jeans, shoes, bra and panties.

With his eyes still shut, he held out a hand as if he could sense that she was naked. Water dripped from between his fingers as he did so and she gently reached out and took his hand, feeling the moistness of his skin as he gently guided her into the stream of the shower.

The stall was large, and there was more than enough room for the both of them. And he gently spun her so that she had her back to him. The water was warm as it washed over her, turning her neatly kept hair into thin ropes of soaked scalp. But she didn’t feel the heat of it at all. All she could feel was his hand upon hers and then the muscles of his chest and belly as they pressed into her back.

He pulled her hair aside gently, and she felt his lips lightly peck at her neck. Into her ear, he whispered, “Don’t make any noise… don’t say a word… just let it happen.”

Her initial response was to protest, but she didn’t find it within herself to do so. It felt like she had stepped into another skin, one that she had concocted from fantasy and made into a reality. It was a moment just like she had seen in most of Jay’s fights… the moment of submission.

He started by putting his hands firmly on her breasts. She felt the power of his fingers, the muscle that was contained within them. That much was, at least, just how she had imagined it. Full of power that seemed so overwhelming that it couldn’t be trusted to move boulders without crushing them, yet it seemed gentle enough to have plucked flower petals without damaging the stem.

His hands couldn’t entirely encompass her breasts. He moved them around, exploring them, taking a fresh handful of flesh with every clasp of his fingers. The tips of his thumb and index fingers found her nipples and he pinched them, just hard enough to make them hard and she gasped at that. The pain was exciting, and she reached out, resting her hands against the tiled wall of the stall as if she were being arrested and searched in the most delightful of ways.

He pulled her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. His hands traveled south, exploring the surface of her belly… her hips… and finally, she felt them upon the curves of her ass. She rubbed her ass against him, feeling that his cock was already hard and anxious.

She resisted the urge to turn and face him. This was his arena… he set the rules… and she was a new player. She would listen to him… learn from him… do whatever he said like he was training her.

His hands circled back around, moving farther south until they reached the thin patch of pubic hair. His fingers explored that region, tickling her until he dipped his fingers inside of her. She felt a different dampness that had nothing to do with the shower as his fingers toyed with her.

It was clear that he had done this before. His fingers knew all of the right places to touch, and he did them in order, starting at her outmost layers and slowly working his way inward, giving each sweet spot its turn. When his fingers finally probed her clit, she felt her legs shaking like they might give out from under her.

She felt his arms close around her and tightly.

Oh, god, yes!

It was better than she imagined. The feeling of his muscular arms was incredible as they tightened around her. His grip was firm but gentle as if he could easily compensate for her weight if her legs did give out from under her.

To prove it, he hoisted her from off the floor. He didn’t hold her high, but he lifted her just enough so that her feet were a mere inch off the floor. And all the while he kept his fingers inside of her.

The resulting sensation was like nothing that she had ever experienced. It was a blend of pleasure, excitement, and pain all at once. Taken together it was amazing. She had been with men only twice before, both had been classmates. But neither of them had been like Jay. Neither had been dangerous or powerful.

His hand began to rock inside of her, and she felt his intent. She fought the urge to begin moaning as she felt the water inside of her blood beginning to boil. He had told her not to make any sounds. And though he had given no hint as to why he wanted this way, she could feel that it was like any other contest that he participated in. Break the rules and it was the end of the bout.

As his hand moved and her feet dangled from off of the wet floor, her blood grew warmer and warmer as if it really was about to begin boiling. But she didn’t care. The feeling was like no other that she had ever experienced.

She put her arms up, grasping at the back of his neck to give herself some leverage. He responded to her action, his fingers moving deeper and more quickly inside of her. She turned her head, kissing his cheek and tasting not only the water of the shower but him as well. He was warm… inviting… and she wanted to feel more of him.

It hit before she was ready for it.

Her mouth opened as if she were to scream, but she managed to keep the sound suppressed. The vibrations that he generated traveled all the way up her spine as if he had managed to coax an earthquake inside of her. She was thankful for the loan of his strength as she felt for certain that she would have fallen from her feet had he not already been cradling her.

His fingers began to slow inside of her, sensing her release and gently bringing her back down. He slipped in and out of her, five… nine… sixteen… Twenty-two… thirty more times before he finally allowed her feet to touch back on the wet floor of the stall.

He freed his fingers from inside of her and gently turned her. The spray of the shower washed down her back, and she became aware of its heat as he bent her head backward, the water covering her eyes. She closed them to protect them and as she did so she felt his warm lips cover hers. Suddenly the warmth of the water vanished, and all she could feel was his lips upon hers.

She forgot even that as his tongue slipped inside of her mouth and in a way that it never had at the arenas. At those times, his tongue had been quick. Slipping in only long enough to give her a small taste of him before being hastily withdrawn like he didn’t want it there any longer than necessary. But now it was different, he was as generous with his tongue as a reformed rich man giving away his money.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him fast. This would not be like one of his tauntings and teasing kisses. She wanted this one to last as long as possible… for eternity if she could manage it. Silently she thanked Cece again for taking her to the Pit. Were it not for that night of breaking her comfort zone she would never have been led to this.

She hooked one leg over him, keeping herself equally pinned against him as his hands explored her back as eagerly as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth. His tongue played with hers, gently caressing it one moment and then almost angrily wrestling with it another. It was like a miniaturized version of his fight cages were simple strikes, or outright grappling were both acceptable practices.

“Put your leg down,” he whispered between kisses. “Spread your legs.”

She obeyed, keeping his head close enough so that he could not pull away from their embrace. He gave no sign of wanting to break their kiss, and she savored the feeling.

With both her feet flat on the ground he drew her towards him. Her center of gravity was thrown so far off that she had no choice but to free his head from her hands and put both hands out to keep herself from tilting over. He aided her in that effort by putting a single arm under the small of her back like a roll bar, keeping her level while his free hand spread her legs only a smaller distance apart than they had a moment before.

With her eyes still shut in their warm kiss, she felt his cock slip inside of her. And just as his hands, arms, and tongue had been she found that that too was stronger than she had imagined. The feeling of him inside of her was truly a demonstration of godlike prowess for she lost all sense of connection with everything around her. Her mind blanked… white light popped before her eyes… and all that she could perceive was him and the feeling of him inside of her.

His free hand cupped her breast as her back arched. Again she felt powerless in his grip but marveled at how easy it was for him to keep her aloft. Most men would have buckled under her weight, but he held her in place as if she weighed nothing at all.

He began to rock inside of her.

In… out… in… out… in… out… He moved slowly at first, then faster and faster. Her lungs felt like they were ready to burst, she wanted to make noise. Her only means of controlling her sound was to bite down on her lip to try and keep from breaking the rules that he had laid down. She didn’t want this to end… not now… not ever. Dreams and girlish fantasies had hammered the illusions of lust and trysts in her mind, and now that those things had been made whole she would do nothing to risk them.

He added more feats to his strength and lifted her from off the ground yet again. Her feet left the floor, and she placed them flatly on the opposing wall until she was stretched out in the stall like Spider-man in an elevator shaft.

Jay put his other arm under her back to lend further support though it did not feel as though he needed it. But he continued with his efforts. In… out… in… out.

With every thrust, he plunged deeper inside of her. She felt like she was lying on a beach, feeling the tide come in and roll over her. Every new wave rose higher and higher against her skin, reaching more and more of her body. And that sensation of her blood beginning to boil returned freshly inside of her.

And every time his cock went in and came out, the tide rolled further and further inland, threatening to consume her and sweep her out to sea. And as terrifying as that seemed, she wanted it. She wanted to be swept up… carried away… to be drowned in this sea of feelings. And as long as Jay was there to hold her, she feared no danger.

Her legs began to tremble.

The gently rolling tide was turning into a tsunami. She silently cursed her body. She wanted to prolong this… for as long as she could. She wanted it to last forever. She wanted to keep the feeling of this forbidden romance alive for as long as possible. She tried to keep the tide at bay… she willed her body to try and hold out.

But Jay’s strength could not be denied. If he was a god, then he was a god of the sea, and capable of overriding any dam or levy that she built to try and keep him back. All she could do was worship him… his power… his strength… his virility.

He began to grunt, but softly as he worked inside of her. She felt enough daring inside of her open her eyes and witness the god that had her firmly in his grip. As before, the water dripped from off his body in small droplets. If there were a god of the rains then surely this was how he gave his miracle to the world. The sheen of light from the bathroom fixtures shined on his body as if he himself were radiating that light. And with every drop of water that fell from him to land on her felt like a second small kiss.

His grunts began to match his thrusts and her body rippled with every penetration. Tried though she might keep the waves from consuming her, she felt her resolve weakening. The feeling was growing too immense to be denied. Jay was accustomed to winning his matches in whatever arena he chose to make them. And she knew that this would be no except.

Hold on… just a little longer… she tried to will herself. You’re leaving tomorrow… who knows when you’ll get the chance to do this again?

But her thoughts availed her little. Every time Jay pressed in against her she felt her strength crumbling. It was like watching a slow-motion video of a wall crumbling, one piece at a time.

Slowly the tide began to rise to its full within her. Spilling over the levy she had tried to build in her mind a little at a time. Then more… more… more… then the tide rose to such a height that she felt that if she had been standing on a shore that the waves would have washed over her entirely.

She opened her mouth as if to scream… and held.

It felt as if she had been swallowed by the earth more than the see. There was a crushing feeling within her that pressed on her from all sides. She could not breathe… think… or move… It was as if she had lost all perceptions of time itself and that blinding white light again flashed before her eyes.

All she felt was Jay.

She hung there, suspended in his grip like she was floating on the air and with no desire to come back down. Though her hands and feet remained firmly planted on the walls where she could reach them, she felt as if she had no grip on anything. The feeling swirled inside of her… as if someone had taken a great large spoon to her body and swirled it like the contents of a cooking pot. Nothing felt like it was where it should have been… everything was jumbled and refused to settle.

The water was suddenly shut off, and she was only vaguely aware of it as the pattering of water against her skin and overwhelming silence seemed to settle over her.

“Are you okay?” Jay’s voice asked though it sounded as if it were a long way off.

She had to struggle to find her voice as well as the right muscles in her neck to nod. It seemed to take forever before she was finally able to respond with a nod and a very weak, “Yeah…”

“Good,” Jay said, gently setting her back on the floor. Her legs trembled as he helped her to settle but she managed to stay upright, putting her arms around his neck to keep herself steady. She took a few moments to steady her breathing, and he helped her by linking his hands at the small of her back.

She rested her head against his muscular chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating. The rapid thump-thump-thump of his organ told her that she had excited him just as much as he had done for her. The thought made her smile.

“What?” he asked amusedly.

She looked up at him, seeing a few stray droplets of water running down his face. “It’s just… all this time… I… I…” she tried, the words failing to form in her mouth. But the look on his face showed that he understood though she could not give form to her thoughts.

“I know,” he said, that familiar golden smile forming again on his face. But this time, there was more meaning behind it. There was a sense of satisfaction behind it. The notion made her feel warm inside. “Believe me, I know.”

She had a strong feeling that he did. “So… are you ready for round two?”

He smiled at her. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said delightedly. “You do have places to go tomorrow. And besides, people live to see a rematch.”

She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of such a thing filled her with renewed anticipation and lust. It wasn’t a promise, exactly, but it was as near as she was going to get to knowing that they would be doing this again. Much as she wanted to have him again tonight, the idea of having to wait until next time held even greater appeal.

But even so, there was one final question that she had, and she wanted it answered. She touched his lips with her fingertips as if coaxing the answer from them. “So… why did you wait until tonight?”

His expression was simple and innocent. All he did was a smile.

Fuck.

When she rose the next morning she felt like some of the life had been drained from her and she felt sore, like a newly trained acrobat. But the feeling was wonderful. She felt like she had just won her first fight and so long as the soreness remained she would have a pleasant keepsake of one incredible night. And once the soreness went away…

Well… maybe I’ll just have to conjure some reason to come home sooner, she thought with a wry grin.

She dressed and gathered her bags, still feeling half asleep as she did so. And by the time she made her way to the main foyer of the house, her mother, stepfather, and Jay were all gathered to meet her and to see her off.

None of them would be accompanying her to the airport, of course. Everyone had their own business to attend. But oddly, she found that mildly comforting. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She had a rematch to plan after all.

“Goodbye, sweetie,” her mother said as she hugged her, her eyes lightly brimming with tears. “I’m going to miss you.”

She smiled at her mother. “I’ll be back before you know it, mom,” she said, though she wasn’t delivering the words to her. Peripherally, she saw Jay smirk.

“Remember everything I told you,” her stepfather said. “It’s going to be an adventure.”

“I’m sure it will be,” she said picking up her duffle. As she stood there, looking at her family, she felt a smile rise up inside of her. “I’ve decided what I’m going to study.”

“Oh?” her mother asked interestedly. “You’ve decided on a major?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I have.”

“What?” Jay asked.

She smiled at her stepbrother, and the bond that would remain their secret seemed to spark between them as she gave him her own million dollar smile. “Sports medicine.”

He smiled back.