There was a brief moment of panic on waking up the following morning, trying to work out where the hell I was and why I was naked. I had become used to waking in hotel beds rather than my own but they tend to have a generic pattern and, to an extent, all look the same. They also never contained a bed quite as big as the one there. It seemed even bigger as there was no one else in it.
Right at that moment I was in two minds as to what had happened. A wise person once told me that the only things in life you ever regret are the things you haven't done. I certainly didn't regret what had occurred the night before. It was more a question of where I went from that point. This whole thing had started from giving the people who gossiped something to really talk about, and having some fun at the same time. But where do the boundaries of having fun lie?
I wasn't a prude. Yes, I met my husband when I was sixteen. During the time we weren't together I had gone on a few one-night stands but only with people I knew very well. Even then they had been people with whom I could have seen myself having a relationship. Still, I had to stick with the words I had spoken and that Mark had spoken back to me. Kick back, relax and what happens, happens.
There was no sign of him anywhere downstairs when I got there. Mum rang to wish me happy birthday while I was making some coffee. She was still fishing for information in her own 'subtle' way but I managed to evade most of her questions. I was excited to be going home and being able to see my family again. Six weeks felt like forever. I couldn't see myself moving back there but it didn't stop me missing them like crazy.
Mark came back around lunchtime, saying that he been dealing with some business stuff. I hadn't really noticed the time going by as I had been having far too much fun going through his music collection, listening to albums that I hadn't got in my own.
Somehow or other I volunteered to cook dinner that night. I'm not much of a cook, although I'd never starve. Steak is easy enough though. And while I couldn't cook, I could bake. It's a subtle but important difference. I decided to make a chocolate fudge cake. It was always one of my favourites. Just as I had started to make the fudge my phone rang.
"You want me to get that?" Mark called, hearing my frustrated cursing.
"Could you?" I answered. "Just not if it's my mother!"
A couple of minutes later he walked in, carrying the phone. "It's some guy called Andy demanding to know why I'm answering your phone." I grinned and took the phone from his hand.
"Hey gorgeous!"
"Hiya sunshine. Who the hell was that?"
"That's Mark. I'm currently in his kitchen cooking dinner."
Andy snorted. "You're not making …"
"Yes, I'm making chocolate cake. You want me to Fedex the spoons so you can lick them?" I laughed.
"Look, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday and find out when you are going to be my way next."
"Thank you, and I don't know." I glanced at Mark. "Any idea when we'll be near Chicago next?" He shook his head. "I'll call you when I find a date."
"OK," he said reluctantly. "It'd be good to see you some when soon. You can stay here when you come."
"You're inviting me to stay?" I asked incredulously. "That's something I never thought I'd hear from you. My fudge is going to go bad if I don't get on with it now. Speak to you soon." I put the phone down, chuckling.
"So, who's Andy?" Mark asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. There was a slight frown line between his eyes. He really did seem to be quite territorial, although I supposed my conversation with Andy might have sounded different to how it was meant between us.
I picked up a spatula and started layering the fudge onto the cake. "He's my older brother. Does something in insurance over in Chicago." His arms that had been folded across his chest relaxed, and he leant on the top of the counter watching what I was doing. "If you even think about touching this stuff you'll regret it."
"Really." His tone of voice made me look up and I saw his hand reaching towards the cake. Before I even really thought about it I smacked the back of his wrist with the spatula, leaving a smear of chocolate fudge there.
"Yes, really. Now, if you want to eat tonight you'd better get out of here and let me get on."
"Hmm," he rumbled, licking the sticky mess from his arm. "Just remember I have a long memory." There was a look of promise, or maybe threat in his eyes. That and following the way his tongue moved across his skin made me shiver, a tight feeling in the pit of my stomach. I may not have known quite how I had got to where I was, or where it was going but right at that moment all I knew was I couldn't get enough of him.
Dinner turned out surprisingly well given my lack of concentration from that point on. After everything was cleared up Mark went to tinker with something on one of his bikes. I had always been the kind of person that enjoyed time alone, especially if I could find a good book to read so went and raided his bookshelves to see what I could find.
I got totally engrossed in the story I had picked out. By the time Mark came back in I was halfway through the book, a carton of juice and a glass on the table beside me. I jumped as he leant over my shoulder, seeing what I was reading.
"You smell of grease," I said, wrinkling my nose.
"Yeah. I got some on here." He waved the T-shirt in his hand. I twisted in my seat slightly to see his bare chest right behind me as he braced his arms on the back of my seat. "I'm going to take a shower. You coming up soon?"
I glanced at my watch. "Wow, I didn't realise it was so late. Yeah, I'll head on up in a minute." True to my word I soon tucked a scrap of paper into the book to mark my place and headed up the stairs. Pausing outside my door I saw that Mark's door was open and I could hear the shower running. Unable to resist taking a peek, my feet moved of their own accord into his bedroom and towards the sounds of running water.
The shower was enormous. Rather than having an enclosed shower cubicle it was a kind of wet room, all tiled with a number of towel rails on the back wall the other end from the showerhead. My eyes were soon riveted on Mark though, watching the water glide down over his pale skin.
"It's not a spectator sport." How the hell could he have known I was there. I hadn't made a sound, and his back was to me. He looked back over his shoulder at me. Pushing my self off the doorframe where I was leaning, I turned to leave. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I was under the impression you wanted me to leave," I said a little stiffly.
"I never said that. Strip and get in here." Half my clothes were on the floor before I knew my hands had moved. Throughout my younger days I had at times exhibited a bad attitude towards being bossed around. It had cost me a few jobs. My ex had always known to ask me to do stuff rather than ever tell me to. He had certainly known never to boss me around or act like I was his property. So why did none of it bother me when Mark did it?
Once I was in the shower Mark just handed me the soap and turned his back. Getting a good amount of lather I started to smooth my hands over his back, reaching up to the back of his neck. He spread his legs a little and braced as I pushed against him, working the muscles on either side of his spine in small circles moving up to reach the top of his shoulders before sliding down to the small of his back and starting all over again. Mark tilted his head to the side as I reached his neck again, allowing my hand to glide around the side until I could feel his beard tickle my fingers and a contented noise rumbled in his chest. To reach that high on him I had to press myself right against his back and I felt it vibrate through me setting up an answering tingle in my own body.
Sinking to my knees on the tiled floor behind him I put more soap on his legs, rubbing the muscles of his thighs and calves. He turned suddenly while I was on the floor, letting the hot water cascade down his back, washing the suds from his skin. I started to wash the front of him, starting from the ground this time, from his shins, up his thighs. Skirting around his burgeoning erection I stood up again and concentrated on his stomach and chest. It was harder to concentrate now as his eyes were on me, watching me with a hint of promise of what was to come.
He took in a sharp breath with a hiss when I hooked my fingers and scratched with what little fingernails I had across one soapy nipple, dragging them down almost to but just stopping short of his groin. Again moving up to his shoulders and neck I had to press myself right up against him, trapping his hardness in between our bodies. Mark moved to wrap his arms around me to press closer but I managed to wriggle away and gathered another load of lather in my hands. Stepping behind him to avoid his arms, I put my arms round him and wrapped my fingers around his length. One hand slid lower to cup his scrotum; fondling and gently massaging it while the other grasped and rubbed along his penis.
He let out a low groan as my hands picked up a steady rhythm before grabbing my wrists.
"Enough," he growled, stepping out of the circle of my arms and turning to face me. Stepping backwards he pulled me under the water with him. I let my head drop back and the water run down my throat and onto my chest. That meant my body from breasts downwards was pushed tight against Mark and I felt his hands encircle me and drop to my buttocks. He lifted me easily, my legs wrapping round him instinctively and my arms snaking around his neck. Two short steps found my back against the cold tiled wall. Mark attacked my mouth with all the raging energy he had shown the night before while one hand moved round to the front of my body and slid down, testing my readiness. He smirked against my lips as he felt the wetness gathered there, testament to the excitement I had found in my explorations of him.
Positioning himself quickly he slid into me, making me gasp at the suddenness of it. He set up a slow pace to begin with, withdrawing almost completely then returning so slowly to sit completely sheathed again. After a time I couldn't stand any more of this gentle pace and arched my back against the wall, pushing into him as hard as I could, gripping his shoulders with my hands and nipping sharply at his neck, jaw line, anything I could reach. Anything I could do in an attempt to spur him on to what I wanted. He chuckled and moved away from the wall, back towards the bedroom. He stopped before he reached the door and leant me back against the wall there, peeling my arms from round his neck and guiding my hands to the top of the towel rails.
Now I had something to help support my self with he began to do what I wanted, driving in hard and fast, almost shaking the breath from my body. The expression on his face was almost frightening in its intensity as he fixed on driving towards pleasure. My head rocked back against the wall as my orgasm hit and my body went rigid. He followed shortly after, pinning me against the wall with his body as he took deep gasping breaths to recover from the effort.
He lowered me to the ground. My legs, although a bit wobbly, supported my weight and he led me back under the water to wash off the sweat.
"Next time I'll make you scream," he said, a confident look on his face.
I snorted at his assertion. "No one has ever made me scream."
"Then I'll be the first." He reached out and turned off the water.
I took my stuff into his room that night. We agreed that there didn't seem to be any point in leaving it in the other one. Again I settled down to sleep in that huge bed with the massive man I seemed to have become involved with.
As I had promised Tara, I took my bike to the arena the next day, following Mark's Harley to Pasadena so I didn't get lost. The flat asphalt of the car park was far too tempting and I couldn't resist popping a wheelie across it before I parked up. Mark shook his head at me as I climbed off and removed my helmet, a huge grin on my face.
"What? Just cos you'd need a half mile run up to do that on one of your bikes!" I dodged the good-natured swipe he aimed at my backside and headed for the arena door, unzipping my leather jacket.
I found Tara in catering, sitting with her back to the door. "Hey!" I said cheerfully slipping into the seat opposite her. She looked up at me, her eyes red. "What's happened?"
"Jerry called again. We had a row. He says he's coming here, to take me home." She dissolved into sobs.
"He can't. You've got a contract. You have to work."
"He doesn't care. He's fed up with me never being home. He'll be here tonight."
"Well," I said comfortingly, "Don't tell him where your hotel is and you'll be fine."
"I always send a list of where I'm going to be staying to my Mom. She'll have told him." I looked up as Mark came in. "Can I stay with you for a couple of days?"
"Er…" I looked at Mark again. "I don't know…"
"Please!" she pleaded.
I took a deep breath, thinking hard. "Shouldn't you try and talk to him first? Tell him what you want?"
"I don't want to be alone with him. He'll just talk me down until I give in. He can get a little… rough." That got my attention quickly.
"Shit, Tara! Does he hit you?"
"Just once. He didn't like me talking to this guy." I was out of my depth now. I had never known anyone who had been through this and was just going on gut instincts.
"Do you want to be with him?"
"No." She began sobbing again as she admitted the fact.
"So you want to leave him." She nodded her agreement. "You need to tell him." Her eyes shot to mine, horrified.
"I can't! He'd kill me."
"Calm down. I might have an idea. Just let me talk to a few people."
I had found in the time that I had been working in the WWE that a lot of the guys were really nice people. I talked to a few of the ones I had come to know most and got their agreement to help in my idea. Going back to Tara, I got her to call Jerry and suggest that they met in a bar in Houston to talk. It meant that he was some way away from where Tara was staying and was also on the other side of the city to my place in case we ended up having to go back there.
That was how, after Smackdown, Tara ended up sitting at a table in a bar by herself, nervously twisting her hands together as she waited for Jerry to show up. At the next table, hopefully within earshot, I watched her anxiously from my position between Mark and Glen. Alongside us also sat Big Show, Dave Batista and Triple H. Batista had been a little leery of the idea after Tara's performance in the last bar they had been together in, but decided to help when told that Jerry had hit Tara in the past. Of this group I knew Triple H the least and was a little wary of him due to him having married one of the bosses but he seemed nice enough and had been keen to help when he heard the problem.
"Will you relax?" Mark muttered in my ear. "You're going to blow it before he even gets to the table. With any luck we won't be needed anyway." I nodded and sat back reluctantly. To distract myself for a second I leant across Mark to speak to Dave.
"Is it true you have your tongue pierced?" He grinned and stuck out his tongue, showing the stud in it. I grinned back and shivered a little.
"What?" Mark asked, puzzled.
"Nothing much. I just used to know a guy with a tongue piercing."
"And?" Dave prompted.
"I found it… entertaining," I admitted. He laughed and I sat back when I felt Mark gently pinch my thigh under the table. "What? It was years ago, and on another continent." I looked up at him. "Had a couple of tattoos as well. Seems to be a bit of a theme. Not quite as many as you, I'll admit." My attention swung to the door as it opened and I recognised Jerry from the picture Tara had shown me. The tension must have shown in my body as Mark put a hand on my arm. We watched as unobtrusively as you could when most of the table topped the three hundred pound mark as Jerry spotted Tara and made his way to the table.
"You were supposed to be at the hotel getting your stuff together," he said, standing over her.
"We need to talk." Her voice was shaky but relatively calm.
"There's nothing to talk about. You are coming home with me." Jerry's voice was flat and brooked no refusal.
Tara was quiet for a few moments before replying almost too low for me to hear. "No I'm not. I love my job and I'm not leaving it."
"Damn it Tara, you are my wife and you will do as I tell you." He clenched his fists by his side. I began to fidget, getting nervous.
"Not until she asks us to," Glen murmured from my side.
Tara wiped her face quickly and looked up at Jerry. "I want a divorce."
"Hell no," Jerry ground out, grabbing her arm.
"Jade!" she called, scared now. I shot to my feet and hurried over.
"Hey! Maybe you should leave her alone."
Jerry turned and sneered at me. "Yeah? Who says?"
"We do," came a low growl from behind me. I stepped back and let the five men gather round Jerry. He dropped Tara's arm and held his hands out in front of himself.
"Hey now fellas. No need for you to get involved. I'm just having a little chat with my wife." He jerked a thumb towards Tara, who scooted out of her seat and joined me behind the five wrestlers.
"I don't think she has any more to say to you," Show rumbled.
"You know, I suggest you leave and go back home." Hunter spoke almost pleasantly. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the barman looking agitated.
"What the hell has this got to do with you?" Jerry burst out belligerently. "Which one are you sleeping with Tara? Or is it the whole lot at once? My momma always said you were a slut, not good enough for me."
"Take it outside," the barman called nervously. "Don't want any trouble in here."
"What do you reckon little man?" Mark spoke quietly. "Want to take this outside?" The tone of his voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It was full of threat, making him sound like the man I had thought he was before getting to know him.
Jerry's eyes bulged. "I know you. Holy shit… you're the Undertaker!" He pointed to each man in turn, mouthing his name. The fight seemed to go out of him and he backed up towards the door. "This ain't over Tara," he called when he reached the door. "I'll find you." With that parting shot he disappeared into the night.
Tara sagged onto a chair sobbing as the reaction set in. I looked at her pitiful state and sighed. Looking round at the guys I asked "Could one of you follow me back to my place and bring her? I don't have a passenger seat on my bike, and she wouldn't be fit even if I did."
"We came together," Hunter said, pointing to Glen and Dave. "Sure we'll bring her over."
Mark stepped over to where I was standing with an arm round Tara's shoulders. "You want me to fetch your stuff?" He handed me my crash helmet.
"Please," I sighed.
"I'm sorry Jade," Tara said softly. "I didn't even ask you how your birthday was."
"It was fine. Quiet, but I enjoyed it." Dave looked at me.
"When was your birthday?" I could see that Mark was listening intently.
"Yesterday."
"Kept that pretty quiet. I'll see you back at your place," Mark muttered as he passed me on his way to the door.
We got Tara settled into the back seat of Glen's rental and said goodnight to Show, who told me to call him Paul. I climbed on my bike and threaded my way across the city, checking constantly to make sure they were still behind me. I just hoped that Jerry had gone and was not following us.
When we reached my building I pointed to a space outside and told them to wait while I put my bike away. When I got back round to the front I found Hunter carrying Tara.
"She fell asleep and we didn't want to wake her," he explained.
As I opened the front door, Mr Hall came bustling out of his apartment. He looked fit to have a nervous breakdown as he saw the people I was with this time, mouthing frantically while producing a string of inarticulate noises.
"Mr Hall, calm down," I laughed. "Taker will be coming by later on. Can you keep an ear out for him and let him up when he gets here?" Still unable to say a single understandable word, he nodded, and I led the way up the stairs.
Once inside my apartment I pointed to the bedroom door. "Can you put her on the bed?" She still didn't wake so I took her shoes off and put a blanket over her. Coming out, I looked at the three men standing around in my little kitchen, making it look truly tiny.
"Thanks guys. You want a coffee or drink or something?" Glen asked for coffee as he was driving so I put some on.
"What you got to drink?" Dave asked.
"Uh, there's beer in the fridge, vodka in the freezer or Jack on the shelf. Glasses are in the cupboard there. Help yourselves. I'm just going to get changed."
I came out five minutes later in a more comfortable pair of jeans and a T-shirt to find that Glen had got his own coffee, Hunter had a beer and Dave appeared to be well into my bottle of Jack. I walked over, topped up his glass and nicked the bottle, holding it up in the air.
"Here's to good Samaritans!" I laughed, taking a swig direct from the neck of the bottle and groaning contentedly as the fiery liquid bit a trail down into my stomach.
It was a bit surreal sitting there with these three famous men in my apartment. I was used to seeing them on a pretty much day-to-day basis when we were travelling, but they were here in my space, chatting happily and just shooting the shit. Glen and Hunter had each taken an armchair while Dave and I sat on the couch, making it easier to share the bottle of Jack. He had pretty much given up on his glass, claiming it was unfair and I got more than he did drinking from the bottle.
It must have been about an hour later when there was a tap at the door. Hauling myself to my feet, I staggered a little on the way to answer it, the drink going to my legs. Mark stepped inside and dropped my bag on the floor, glancing at the other three. Glen looked like he was about to nod off, Hunter had a small pile of empty beer bottles next to him and Dave appeared to have taken the Jack hostage.
"Having fun?" he asked with an ironic little smile.
"Sure. If I'm going to get drunk with a load of men, it's always the married ones. Makes life easier. Excuse me just a minute, I think I need to rescue my bottle." Just as I turned round, Dave waved the empty bottle at me. It had been about a third full, and we had drunk the lot between us. "OK, guess I'm onto coffee then."
"We should get going," Glen said, rising up from his chair. For the first time I noticed that he was slightly taller than Mark. I'd never noticed before. Hunter agreed and got to his feet. Dave seemed to think that as he had drunk all my Jack it was a good idea as well.
"Thanks again, guys. I really appreciate it, and I'm pretty sure Tara will when she wakes up as well." I shut the door behind them and turned back to Mark. "Ah well, it was a fun couple of days while it lasted."
"You think that's it now?" He sat on the end of the couch. I picked up the empties and dirty cup and glass and took them to the kitchen.
"I can't see her going back to the hotel. You heard him. I don't think he's going to give up that easily. You want some coffee?"
"What I want is you in my house and in my bed," he growled. I flushed a little at the intensity of his gaze.
"Me too, but it's not going to happen. Right now you can have coffee and that's it." I flicked the machine on and flopped onto the couch beside him. "Shit. I haven't drunk like that in a while."
"You make a habit of drinking with a load of men?" His tone was unreadable. I couldn't tell if he was just curious or angry in some way.
"I've always preferred male company. Get a group of women together and it can get bitchy. Men don't do that so much."
"So you get a kick out of it." I was taken aback by his statement.
"What are you, jealous or something?" His eyes flashed towards me and then away again. "What did you think I was going to do with three men in my apartment? Three married men at that?" He wouldn't look at me now. "OK," I continued, "Let's break it down into its elements. I like Glen. He's a nice bloke I can have a laugh with. But he has that whole shaven headed thing going on. Does nothing for me. Hunter I barely know, and I don't particularly like blondes. Dave… I'll admit I'd be there like a shot given half a chance. In different circumstances. I have never slept with a married man and never would. Besides, I'm involved in this… whatever the hell this is with us. I don't pretend to understand it but I'm in it and I'm not a cheat. Now, you want coffee or not?"
He got to his feet. "I think I'll head home." Still not looking at me he headed for the door. Jumping up I followed him.
"Mark, wait. I shouldn't have mouthed off like that. I'm sorry. I'm a bit drunk and pissed off that I'm not coming with you." He paused and swung back to face me.
"Batista?"
I groaned. "Forget what I said, will you? My mouth ran away with me. That would never happen for a whole list of reasons. The main thing is I'm involved with you and that is plenty good enough for me." I stood on tiptoes and brushed my lips across his. "Now get if you're going. I've got to get you to an autograph session in the morning."
He offered me a small smile and left. I poured myself a cup of coffee and hopped up to sit on the counter top. What the hell had just happened?
"Jade? I heard raised voices?" Tara came out of my room. "How did I get in here anyway?"
"Hunter carried you up after you fell asleep in the car. There's coffee if you want." She nodded and got herself a cup from the rack.
"So what was the shouting about?"
"First off, I wasn't shouting. Mark and I had… a little disagreement I suppose I would call it. Nothing for you to worry about. Just drink your coffee and get some sleep." She drained her mug and headed back to the bedroom. I resigned my self to a night on the couch and turned in after finishing my own drink.