Welllll this is a lot more my style of writing. I love reading/writing supernatural stories. Something about the over the top emotions and the intensity seems to escape me when I'm writing human characters. And since wrestlers are over the top and larger than life, I thought I could combine the two nicely. Enjoy :)

"That's it baby, right there."

Gripping her hips roughly, he drove into her from behind. Her blond hair shone in the moonlight coming in through the window and the star tattoos on her back seemed to shift with his every thrust.

She turned around, her red lips curved into a smile and he closed his eyes, his breaths coming faster as he continued fucking her.

"Oh, you feel so good."

He opened his eyes to find himself staring into the eyes of another woman. She wore heavy makeup, her pale skin a contrast to her black hair. Her green eyes glowed as she looked at him hungrily, arching her back and throwing her head back against the pillows.

Immediately his gaze was drawn to the column of her smooth throat. She wore a thick necklace that seemed to snake around her neck until it became a black choker.

"Fuck me harder."

He raised his eyes to her face, now looking into ice blue eyes. The woman's bright red hair was spread against his pillow and her big breasts bounced every time he plunged into her.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed her legs farther apart to get deeper inside of her. He felt frenzied, as if he couldn't stop until this deep, consuming hunger that ate at him from the inside was finally satisfied. And there was only one way to do it.

He eyed the erratic pulse on the woman's neck. Her blood would flow easily now that she was this aroused. He could drink her and have her out of his room in a matter of minutes.

Leaning over her, he dug his fingers through her hair roughly, pulling her head to one side. She didn't struggle, too delirious with pleasure to put a stop to anything he did. Unsnapping the choker, he brushed it down to expose her neck completely. His fangs ached as they instinctively lengthened.

As he continued to fuck her, his thrusts getting rougher as he grew more aroused, he licked her skin, mouth curling in distaste at the bitter taste of her perfume.

Closing his eyes in order to concentrate, he breathed in and time slowed as his ears picked up the sound of her heartbeat, the blood rushing through her veins, the sound of her lungs filling with air. With practiced accuracy, he plunged his fangs into her in the middle of a heartbeat. He growled against her skin as he drew from her in slow pulls.

His cock hardened even more as he held her in place, her entire body going limp as he drunk from her. It wasn't the best blood he had ever tasted but it would do. It had to.

"John..."

His eyes snapped open as he heard her voice. Immediately, the blood was richer, sweeter. There was no perfume, only an intoxicating scent that made him wrap his arms around her tighter as his fangs ached unbearably.

The woman began to move underneath him, meeting his thrusts and forcing him to slow down so he felt every movement a hundred times more. She had wrapped her legs around his waist so he was lying on top of her, their bodies completely touching. Her hard nipples rasped against his chest as he moved above her and her skin was so soft beneath his fingertips. He took a handful of her dark brown hair and rubbed it against his cheek, reveling in how silky it felt against his skin.

She had begun moaning, soft, breathy moans that nearly made him crazy. She had always had the sexiest moans he had ever heard, luring him to give, and take, more than he ever had with any other woman.

When she began to come around his cock, he closed his eyes, unable to hold back anymore. He began to come powerfully, the force of his orgasm taking his breath away. When he was finally spent, his fangs receded and he licked at the small puncture wounds at her neck. Immediately they began to close together, leaving no evidence of what he had done.

He raised himself up on his elbows, his eyes starved for the sight of her. Of his Olivia.

She was as beautiful as he remembered her, her chocolate brown hair framing a face he had noticed from across the room. Her blue-gray eyes were framed by thick lashes, making her appear exotic and seductive without even trying. Plump, pink lips beckoned him to put his lips on them, taste her and lose himself as he always had in the past.

As he watched, her lips moved as if she was saying something but he couldn't hear. He lowered his head, wanting more than anything to hear what she could possibly say to him after what had happened between them.

"Come to me John..."

John Morrison woke with a start, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. As he heaved deep breaths into his starved lungs his fingers closed into clenched fists. His skin was damp with sweat and he felt as if someone had just dropped a lead ball in his stomach.

He cursed as he ran a hand roughly through his hair and looked at the clock on his nightstand.

12:22.

He hadn't even made it through half the night and now it seemed as if sleep would continue to evade him as it had the past few nights he had been in this damn town.

Philadelphia fucking Pennsylvania.

He had thought that after more than two years away, he would be able to handle it. He hadn't paid attention to how his body seemed to tighten at the very thought of being so close.

To her.

John dropped his head in his hands, frustration roiling hotly inside of him. Why hadn't he been able to get her out of his mind? She was just supposed to be one amongst many.

He felt himself harden as he remembered the dream. Every time he had one of those dreams, it ended the same way. With her rich blood flowing inside of him, burning through every nerve until he felt as if she was a part of him.

In the past, every time he had drunk her, he felt closer than he had ever felt to anyone else; closer than he had ever thought possible. Simply laying next to her while they were both complete sated, stroking her hair, and having random conversations that had him marveling at the clever ways her mind worked calmed him like nothing else ever had. He was always loath to leave her side, especially when she clung to him so sweetly, so trustingly.

And that was precisely why he had had to leave. He had never been with a woman for as long as he had been with her. Exclusivity was not in his vocabulary and he often had numerous women in one night if the desire and opportunity arose. But in the few months they had been together, he had remained faithful. And the scariest part about that was that he hadn't minded.

He had easily turned down many women's offers although they were willing and convenient. Inevitably he compared them to her and found flaws. Without even realizing he was doing it, he had pledged his attention to a single woman. And that was a fatal mistake for someone like him.

Vampires formed temporary bonds with the person they drank. The more often they drank from the same person, the stronger the bond would become, until it was permanent and the other person turned into a vampire, able to share their immortal lives with the one who turned them.

The idea of sharing his life with only one woman had never appealed to him, in fact it had scared the shit out of him. He had seen too many of his race become obsessed with their life partners and lose their minds if any harm befell them. He had watched his father go insane when his mother had been beheaded, one of only two ways for an immortal vampire to die.

He swore to himself at a young age he would never take a permanent partner. And it had worked well for him. When he had started his career as a professional wrestler, the opportunity to satisfy his cravings, both as a virile man and a vampire, were ample. Women came in droves to please, and be pleased, by the "Shaman of Sexy" and he had indulged.

But after meeting her, in a coffee shop of all places, his attention had been completely focused. He no longer saw the women with their fake breasts and low cut shirts as sexy. Now, what made him the hottest was a naturally curvy brunette with a sharp tongue.

He closed his eyes against the images that immediately popped into his head when he thought of her. Naked limbs tangled in fervent sex that left both of them out of breath and with a smile on their faces. Although he had always made sure to erase her memories so she would never remember every detail, he still felt as if she enjoyed when he drunk from her. In the instant when his fangs and his cock were inside of her, the world seemed to fade away, all his problems, his concerns, disappearing for that perfect moment.

Leaving her without a word had been the hardest thing he had ever had to do. The fact that she had only called once and left a calm voicemail questioning if he was avoiding her had made it even worse. He had thought she would have been like any other woman, calling him numerous times and leaving angry messages. Instead, she had accepted it so easily he had wondered if she had ever felt anything close to what he felt for her.

So it was better that he had left. Clearly he was getting too involved with her, and he could feel how strong their bond was becoming. He shuddered to think how close he had come to forming a permanent bond with any one woman. He had escaped with his life fully intact and free to do as he choose with- just the way he wanted.

Realizing that sleep was out of the question, he decided to do what he did best. Go out, party, and bring home a woman he could use, pleasure, and safely send on her way.

It was for the best, he assured himself as he walked to the shower. There was no other way.

"Ready to score some hotties?"

John shook his head at the excitement in his friend's voice. Mike was a funny guy who always had a smart comment, but when it came to the ladies, the guy was over eager. It worked well for him though. Women flocked to his laid back charm after experiencing the over-zealousness of "The Miz."

"What made you change your mind?" Mike asked over the loud music.

John shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. Why the hell not?"

Mike nodded his head approvingly. "I get it. Your bed's a little cold, need some bodies to warm it up?"

John nodded as rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses and he took a drink out of his beer. Although Mike had teased him at first about "wearing his sunglasses at night," when he had witnessed how easily John was able to attract women, he had started to wear them too. He claimed they made him look more mysterious and John had agreed it was probably better if women saw less of him.

"Dude, that girl has been eyeing me all night," he said, nodding to a redhead that was sitting at a table across from them.

John quickly scanned her and turned back to his friend. "Go for it. We didn't come here to sit and talk to each other all night."

Mike laughed as he took a deep swig of his beer. "Yea, I'd rather have some pillow talk with someone who has boobs. So unless you're planning on growing some, I'll catch up with you later. Good luck."

"Don't need it," John responded as his friend walked away.

He signaled to the bartender that he wanted another drink and downed the rest of his first one. Although alcohol didn't affect him as quickly as humans, he could still get drunk. And he had a feeling tonight he would need to in order to get her out of his mind when he was picking someone to bring back with him. Already he had scanned and dismissed half the women in the club and his hunger was growing greater. Although the glasses did indeed make him look more mysterious which women seemed to adore, they also hid his eyes, which flickered black with strong emotion, like desire.

He drank long and deep when the bartender got him another drink, his stomach roiling with hunger and his fangs aching to lengthen and pierce flesh. Much as he denied it, his mind was still on her. On being so close to her. Her apartment was only about an hour away from here. They had come to this very club once before, he had even drunk her while they were both grinding on the dance floor.

He let out a deep breath, angry that he couldn't seem to think about anything else but her. With renewed purpose, he turned in his seat, facing a dance floor full of readily available and convenient women. He would take one of them home tonight and forget about her. Just like he had done for the past two years.

Two years.

And still that motherfucker was as insufferably gorgeous as ever.

Olivia's eyes took in every inch of the man she had once thought she loved. He still had that inexplicable pull that seemed to keep every woman's eyes on him, his laid back attitude coaxing everyone around him to relax and enjoy his company. The years had only seemed to make him more confident, his long, well-muscled body reminding her of a great cat at rest, but ready to uncoil fearsome ferocity at any time. He had grown facial hair which only served to make him look more mature; and more dangerous than any of these foolish women casting him inviting looks could ever imagine.

Olivia sipped her drink slowly, never taking her eyes off the bastard. It angered her that even after all this time, after the abrupt way he had just disappeared, he could still affect her like this. She had come to this club somehow knowing she would find him here. How she knew, she had no idea, but sure enough, here he was, in the oh so tempting flesh.

Her mind immediately recalled the few months they had spent together. She had thought she had her entire life figured out. She was going to go to school, graduate, and become a lawyer. She hadn't had time for men in her life and hadn't even thought she needed one. Until him.

He had shown her how much fuller her life could be, how much more exciting and fun she could make it if she only opened herself up to the opportunity. Although they spent a lot of that time talking on the phone or on the computer, he would visit whenever he could and they would have so much fun together. Talking, laughing, and pleasuring each other.

At the thought of those particular moments, she angrily stifled a frisson of desire that streaked through her entire body. It was annoying that he could still have this affect on her after what he had done. Without even a call to let her know he wasn't going to be back, he had left.

Her pride had kept her from seeking him out but she had held out hope for months that her phone would ring and it would be him, telling her he was coming to see her. Instead, she had been reduced to watching him on T.V, her heart skipping a beat every time he looked at the camera.

She tipped her head back to finish the last of her drink, the alcohol burning as it went down her throat. She licked her lips as she set it down, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from him and to the man he had come with.

His friend was in a booth by himself, the redhead he had approached long gone. Olivia smiled as she got up from her seat, smoothing her hands over her short black dress. It was time to confront him for what he had done to her. For what he had made her.

Because thanks to John Morrison, Olivia was now a vampire.