A/N: I do not own anybody except Logan Everwoods. Thank you for reading.

I trace his tattoos with my fingers, loving the way the ink marked his tanned skin. He flinched a little when my fingers went over his shoulder tattoo and his grip around my waist grew tighter. I was wide awake while he didn't look like he would be waking up anytime soon. I decided to waste time by looking at him like I've done for the past year. I was used to the contours of his face and could see them even when I closed my eyes. He never understood when I said he looked best asleep; he was an angel. I didn't care that his breath fanned my face or that his feet were tangled with mine. I ran my fingers over his smooth cheek for what could be the hundredth time as I sighed.

I was a secret.

I was somebody's mistress.

I chuckled lowly to myself, making sure not to disturb his sleep. I couldn't believe I had let this go on for a year. I always promised myself that I would be married with a husband who graduated from Yale and already have two perfect kids. But here I was at twenty-six sleeping with a WWE superstar.

My thoughts shifted to my fifteen year old niece would have done anything to be in my place, especially at her tender age. A smile appeared on myself as I thought about all the times I'd seen her glued to the television watching wrestling.

How the fuck did I even get here?

Realizing I had blanked out, I continued tracing his features this time allowing my index finger to trace the bridge of his nose. I was done with crying and having self pity for myself, I promised myself nobody would make me feel bad about myself. No, I wasn't a bitch; I just didn't throw a pity party for myself when something bad happened to me.

Even though I was under the sheets I still felt cold. Goose bumps ran up my arms at the speed of lightening as I tugged the comforter half way over my head, leaving me and Randy in a warm cocoon. I know what I was doing was beyond wrong but I just couldn't stop. I was attached to him and I rarely grew attached to people. I was distant and only a few people knew the true me.

I couldn't believe I was doing all the things I promised never to do.

I had to leave soon; it was almost ten-thirty. Trying to move out of his vice grip woke him up in the process and my chocolate brown orbs stared into enthralling steely blue-gray ones. They were beautiful, especially this close and my thoughts were interrupted as he gave me a good morning kiss. His lips claimed mine hungrily, leaving me to know that he always wanted me. I smiled into the kiss as I shifted my head to the right, giving us both more access. Randy's tongue delved into my mouth and my mind pondered about him telling me how I always tasted like cherry chapstick.

I broke the kiss, my eyes still closed as I tried getting off the high I was feeling from just kissing this man. My gaze lifted back to his blue-gray eyes and he palmed my cheek.

"Hey," He whispered, his voice was raspy.

"Hey yourself." I bit my lip.

Randy leaned over again to capture my lips in a breath taking kiss but I had to go. He knew that and was purposely trying to waste my time. I felt his hand linger on my supple breast as he lightly squeezed and I gasped.

I pushed him away and eased myself off the bed. I knew that if I had gave him another look I probably wouldn't be going to work today. I found my underwear and jeans, ignoring the smoldering looks he gave me. I grabbed my keys and left without a goodbye; he was used to it already. My mind swirled with thoughts about him as I started my car. I asked myself how I could have fallen in love with him. He was a cocky, arrogant bastard who thought every female was made to get down on their knees and suck the life of his dick or to turn around and bend over.

Funny thing was, less than ten hours ago I was all on my fours begging him to go faster.