"You think you can just get away with what you said earlier tonight?" he demanded, crowding her with his domineering figure. It had taken him an hour or two, but he had finally caught up with her. Her back pushed into the wall behind her, her palms flat against it, chest rising and falling sharply with each breath. He smirked devilishly as he raked his eyes up and down her body, her eyes locked on him and tracking his every movement with caution. "You should know, love, that I am not a man to be toyed with."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she garnered enough courage to respond. "You don't scare me, Bennett. I'm not one of those cheap fangirls who hang on your every word and drop to their knees the first time they hear that accent of yours." She clenched her jaw as her upper lip raised into a defiant sneer.

He chuckled slightly, one corner of his mouth still raised with an almost sinister amusement. Who was she trying to fool with that show? They both knew who was in control…and it certainly wasn't her. "Even so," he said, "you should pay for your little comments." He brushed a stray hair out of her face that was adhered to her parted lips and she gasped. "No one makes me look foolish and gets away with it." His thumb met her quivering bottom lip as he drew her chin towards his, capturing her lips without protest. She sank into the kiss, her knees buckling as she whined softly and dug her fingertips into the wall behind her.

Flashback

"I couldn't help but notice your drink is getting low," he mused from behind her, peering over her shoulder. She had been immersed in conversation with her friend and didn't hear the large man walking up to them. Jumping slightly when his deep voice rumbled next to her ear, she turned faintly towards him and caught his cocky smirk in her periphery. Fuck. He was big, and he was close. She shifted her weight slightly to one side, her free hand coming to rest on her hip as she looked him up and down.

"And I suppose the next thing out of your mouth will be an offer to buy me another one?" she retorted, one eyebrow cocked with sarcastic curiosity.

He chuckled softy, not expecting such a fiery response from the sweet-looking girl he had approached. He had been mesmerized by her soft strawberry blonde curls from across the room, stealing glances periodically as he maneuvered the party in one of the event rooms of their hotel. He noted her floral-print strapless dress, which fanned out graciously from her waist and hit her toned thighs midway to her knees. His eyes fixated on her long, muscular legs more than once that evening, her feet tucked into a pair of sky-high nude pumps. She was speaking to a mutual friend and hostess of the party, Natalya, and the two were laughing evidently at a story the strawberry-blonde was sharing. Her curls would sway as she animatedly spoke, her hands gesturing wildly, the fingers of one hand wrapped effortlessly near the mouth of a bottle of his favorite beer, Stella Artois. She certainly has good taste in alcohol, he thought.The blonde would throw her head back in laughter in response, her expression egging her friend on to continue. The story she was telling must have been embarrassing, because she would occasionally hang her head slightly and cock it to one side, nervously pushing her hair away from her eyes and crossing one divinely-sculpted porcelain leg over the other. He was charmed by how gracefully she conducted herself, even in this small display of bashfulness. He finally saw his opportunity to speak to her arising as she shook her beer bottle slightly in mid-conversation, testing its relative emptiness as her face was tinted with a wash of disappointment. As he stepped up behind her, her perfume floated to his nostrils; she smelled exactly like a bouquet of roses. He softly cleared his throat as he prepared to speak to her…

And that was the response he got. "Well, love…yes, if you'll let me."

She was almost put off by his natural charm. "I'm fine, thanks. I was just about to go get another one for myself." She attempted to move around him, but he halted her progress.

"Please, love, allow me," he said, reaching for the empty bottle with a sincere smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm not your 'love,'" she said proudly, "but you can certainly dispose of this for me." She pushed the bottle into his hand with a sharp, almost belligerent exhale and swiftly turned back towards Natalya, her hair nearly whipping him across the nose. His face twisted slightly in shock…did she really just blow him off like that? He stepped back once, then again, gauging her response to his departure. When she showed no inclination to stop him, he snorted derisively and turned on his heel. As he walked towards the bar, he attempted to piece together what had just happened. Women normally fawned over him; he was Wade Barrett, for God's sake. But this woman, in less than five utterances, had put him in his place like he was no one. Had he really gotten that rusty since becoming a WWE superstar? His skills at picking up women had always been sharp and finely tuned, and he never broke a sweat when attempting to bed a bird, but in recent years he'd had to try less and less. Even so, she wasn't going to win that easily. As he reached the trash can, he looked down at her empty bottle, a token of her triumph over him. Chucking the bottle so roughly into the bin that it shattered once it reached the bottom, he shook his head and motioned for the bartender.

"For you," he said confidently, offering the chilled bottle to her when he approached her again several minutes later. "And I'd really rather you not throw it on me, these trousers are expensive."

"Oh, spare me," she laughed slightly, her mood seemingly lifted from their earlier encounter. She brought the bottle to her lips and her eyes sparkled when they caught his. He took this as a peace offering and let out a breath of apprehension he didn't know he was holding. "Dare I ask your name," he started, his lips pulling into a playful smirk, "or will you just give me a fake one and tell me to bugger off again?"

She laughed again, a grin spreading across her face. "I suppose I deserve that," she returned. He smiled earnestly, impressed with himself for causing her to let her guard down even slightly. She switched the bottle between her hands, gently patting the condensation off her right hand onto her dress before offering it out to him. "Rachel," she replied with a small smile. He cupped her fingers in his, bringing her hand up to his mouth and placing a tender kiss to her skin. "Rachel…" His eyes flicked up to meet hers and he didn't miss the flash of shock surge across her features as his thumb danced over the spot his lips had just been. "I'm Stu. Stu Bennett."

"Stu Bennett," she nodded, nervously retracting her hand from his grasp. "It's not every day a man moseys up to me and kisses me on the hand."

"I'm not most men," he replied, raising his eyebrows slightly as he brought his beer to his lips.

"Yeah, most men would back off when you blow them off," she replied snidely, causing him to spit out his beer slightly. She cocked her eyebrows playfully, awaiting a response. "Fair enough," he said, shaking his head and attempting to gracefully wipe the beer from his chin. "Forgive me for pestering you then, but I was just so taken by your beauty. And now I see you have a personality to match."

"Very clever, Stuart. May I call you Stuart?" she fired back, rolling her eyes. "Does that line usually work on women?"

"If it pleases you, love, it pleases me."

"What did I say about using that word, Stuart?" she replied, tapping her foot.

"I'm sorry…Rachel," he said, rubbing his jaw with his fingers nervously. "Force of habit. That's just how I speak to a lady."

"It's fine," she replied with a small laugh. "I can imagine I'm not going to break you of your habit since we don't know one another at all." He nodded slightly in agreement. Shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, he felt a flush of bravery as he prepared to speak: "How would you like to come up to my room with me so we can get to know one another better?"

She crossed her arms under her bust and shot him a glare. "And what exactly makes you think I would want to do that?" she rejoined, raising her voice slightly. A flush of pink danced across his cheeks as his eyebrows shot skyward. He immediately regretted being so forward with her. "I'm not some tramp who will just follow behind you and cater to your every whim, Bennett. And frankly, I'm offended that you would even ask me that. Enjoy your beer," she said, shoving her bottle into his gut and turning on her heel to saunter away. He glanced around, noticing that a few of his fellow partygoers and coworkers had seen her put him in his place. He was almost shaking with anger as he brushed himself off and followed her.

"Stu," she breathed against his lips, "I apologize for what I said. Can we start over?" Her hands wandered up his arms, coming to rest on the hard pane of his chest as she looked up into his eyes. She saw them darken slightly as he sneered and shook his head slowly.

"You won't get away that easily, love," he replied, pulling her hands from his chest and wrapping his long fingers around one wrist. "Come with me."

Rachel attempted to quell the numbness spreading through her legs as she teetered on her heels behind him. His stride was purposeful as he led her to the elevator of the hotel. His grip never left her as the elevator crawled up each floor, coming to a halt at his floor with a soft ding. She exhaled timidly as he pulled her down the hallway and up to his door.