Chapter 10

Sighing resignedly and knowing she had no other choice, Jerica walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, raking a hand through her hair and bit her bottom lip when she realized all of her clothes were back in her room. "I hate asking this, but do you have a t-shirt or something I could sleep in?" Her voice was low and quiet, stopping him when he went to get up. "I can get it, just tell me which shirt. Stay your ass bed and off that knee." It wasn't a request as she stood up, grunting at how uncomfortable this corset top was.

"Bossy wench." He muttered, looking around, and spotted his bag resting at the foot of the bed. "Yeah, in there darlin'. Should be somethin' clean right on top. Help yourself."

It wasn't like it was the first time she had worn something of his. Mark folded his hands underneath his head, staring at the ceiling. So much for keeping away from her.

Jerica just pulled out the first t-shirt she saw, which was his new shirt from WWE, and zipped the bag back up. "Thanks." She whispered and walked inside the bathroom, closing the door and stared in the mirror.

Dear god, she looked horrible! Running the water, Jerica washed her face and patted it dry with the towel before sliding out of her jean skirt and corset top, slipping the t-shirt over her head. The damn thing went to her knees and the sleeves went to her elbows. She actually giggled, shaking her head and smoothed it down her body, pulling her hair out to cascade down her back, her face clean and devoid of makeup. She gathered her clothes and walked out ten minutes later, shutting the light off and put them on top of her boots before crawling into bed beside him, still not believing she was here.

Mark had gotten a glimpse of her before she shut off the light and was trying not to laugh. When she looked at him, he bit his lower lip, his entire body shaking. "Darlin', I'm sorry, but...you look like a lil girl." He said, knowing it was kind of mean, but honestly...She was in a shirt that enveloped her, her hair down with no makeup. It was the damn shirt that did it. No wonder Steve was overprotective; this must be how he saw Jerica every time he looked at her.

"Gee thanks." She snorted, rolling her eyes. "I'm thirty-two years old, hardly a little girl. You're just too big." Jerica quipped with a smirk, seeing him raise an eyebrow and turned around with a satisfied smile, snuggling into the pillow.

She wasn't going to sleep anytime soon and already missed Randy, immediately pushing him out of her mind. She had her minor breakdown, it was time to move on now. Not to mention she wasn't about to cry in front of Mark again; he was her co-worker after all.

Mark had been tempted to tell her he indeed was big, in all aspects, but...no doubt she'd slap him or be particularly cruel and do something to his knee. He never underestimated an Austin; he wasn't considered one of the smartest men in the business because he did stupid things. But sleep was out of the question, especially with her in the bed with him. How long had it been again? Oh yes, over four months, damn it.

She felt a chill in the air, probably from crying so much. Crying always made her cold for some reason as she slid under the comforter with him, not caring at the moment, and snuggled further into the pillow, her honey chestnut hair smelling like strawberries. That was her scent, every time she left a room. She even had strawberry perfume, it was just who she was. They were also her favorite fruit too. Randy used to feed her strawberries whenever she was upset. He bought her a case of them at one time, but she couldn't bring them on the plane so he had them sent to her house. She still had them in the freezer, or what was left over.

She was trying to kill him! She was secretly in cahoots with Randy. Randy had managed to get a few licks in, now she was going to finish the job. The scent of strawberries alone, mixed with what he was assuming her natural scent, was going to be the death of him. Then when she joined him under the comforter, the naughty thoughts only went deeper.

His dirty mind threw this up at him, 'Is she wearing panties under that shirt?' Inwardly slapping himself, Mark closed his eyes.

Yes she was wearing panties, black to be exact, along with a strapless bra. Of course, he didn't need to know that as she pulled the shirt down and curled her knees up, bringing the comforter to her chin and sighed gently. This was Los Angeles, California and she was in a hotel room with Mark Calaway. At least he wasn't a complete stranger, though Jerica was too smart to do something like that in the first place.

She wished she had her laptop, work always made her forget about her problems. Now all she could think about was if Randy was alright and if Mark had enough room for his knee. Why the hell was she even caring if Randy was alive? Love did weird things to people that was for damn sure.

This was ridiculous, seriously. So there was a beautiful woman lying in bed next to him, who happened to be hands off because she was still in love with her dead beat, abusive boyfriend. Mark thought abusive because abuse came in all shape and forms. Considering the guy had tried to rape her, purposely gotten into a car accident with her in his car...Jerica's sanity was questionable.

She wanted to call him, just to hear his voice and to make sure he was alright, but refrained. For two reasons. One, Mark was right beside her and would stop her before she dialed the first number and, two, Randy tried raping her earlier. She still couldn't wrap her mind around that and felt tears sting her eyes, immediately blinking them away.

'How can I love someone like that after all he's done? Granted, we had great times together, great sex, great everything. I thought he was it, I thought I was done with the boys and searching. I thought I was finished and now I have to start all over again. I have to move on, but it's hard. I can't stop loving him, no matter how hard I try. So what am I supposed to do? I can't leave the company, my job is everything to me. If he would leave me alone then I could move on and piece my heart together again.' She thought, her eyes closing and slowly started to relax, the exhaustion overtaking her. Because she didn't do it often, crying exhausted Jerica, something she still didn't understand.

Somehow, Mark fell asleep too. In the middle of the night, he wound up with Jerica in his arms, a massive thigh draped over her legs as she curled into his chest, her fingers buried in his hair. He was dreaming, he had to be. Groaning, Mark fought against waking up, too tired to move, though he frowned when he heard a soft moan and someone wiggling against him, causing an instant erection.

Her chest was pressed against his, their noses practically touching, her long hair splayed around her and over her shoulders, her fingers in his hair. It was longer than she remembered, but she wasn't complaining. Jerica was dreaming of Randy, his mystic blue eyes and the way he smiled melted her heart. She sighed in contentment, snuggling further against the warm body, one hand leaving his hair to drape over his side. She was warm and it was comforting, feeling his power and strength, knowing he wanted to protect her at least in her dreams. Jerica didn't want to wake up, wanting to keep Randy in front of her forever.

This wasn't good. Mark was half awake now, aware enough to know he was going to get his ass kicked if she didn't roll away because he was about to do something stupid. When Jerica draped her arm over his side, her fingers caressing his bare back, he inwardly sighed. If she was dreaming about her ex-boyfriend, she was in for a rude awakening. The PUP was built different from Mark, smaller. When her nose rubbed against his, he inclined his head, filling the gap between their mouths, kissing her tenderly.

Her entire body was slowly coming alive as she kissed him back, her hand pressing against his massive chest over his pounding heart, needing to feel something other than the heartache she'd been experiencing. Jerica was slowly waking up, her mind in a cloud at the moment and felt massive arms envelope her, her fingers gripping the silk tresses and...this wasn't Randy. This wasn't Randy's lips, Randy didn't have long hair and...Jerica immediately pulled back from the kiss, fully awake now, and wide blue eyes were staring at Mark with an open mouth. What the HELL was he doing kissing her like that?

Mark was one hundred percent awake now, seeing the questioning look in her blue eyes, and groaned. He rolled out of bed, his knee throbbing, but ignored it, straightening to his full height. His green eyes were dark with desire, but he wasn't about to force himself on her, even if it would be oh so easy. Easy to make her submit. He shook his head, trying to clear out the thoughts, knowing Jerica would definitely hate him now.

She didn't know what to think at this point and Randy's words were sounding in her head again about how Mark wanted her. What the hell? Jerica didn't waste anytime and scrambled from the bed, taking her clothes and darted in the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She had to get out of here.

She had to leave NOW.

Dressing in record time, making sure the corset was on right, Jerica walked out ten minutes later, seeing Mark was sitting on the bed with his head lowered. Her lips were still slightly swollen from his kiss and tears were glistening in her eyes, wondering if Randy was right. Was it true? Did Mark want her and is that why he was helping her all this time, for his own needs? She felt sick at the mere thought and walked past him to the nightstand, shakily grabbing her keys.

Mark didn't even look up when she hesitated. "I'm sorry, darlin'." He murmured, remembering how Randy had mentioned how he had been trying to get into her pants that day of the accident.

No doubt that's what she thought. It was ironic how Randy's hateful, jealous words were coming back to save his ass. The irony brought a sad, twisted smile to Mark's face.

"It's fine, but I have to go." Jerica hurried past him and grabbed her boots, slipping them on and zipped them up, trying like hell to stop shaking, but it wasn't happening. "Thanks for letting me stay. Your shirt is in the bathroom."

Before he could utter a word, Jerica was out of the room and flying down the hallway as fast as her boots would allow her, tears streaming down her face. She took the back staircase again and kicked open the back door, running to her rental car. Sliding in the driver's seat, Jerica shakily started it up and buckled up before peeling out of there, speeding away. She wasn't stopping this time, not until she was safely in her own room and far away from Mark.

Ignoring his knee, Mark got up and hobbled to the bathroom. He stared down at the shirt, finally kicking it to the side with a snarl of rage. She was terrified of him. Of him! For a simple kiss! No doubt she'd go running back to her rapist boyfriend's open arms, forgetting what he had done. All the while cowering whenever she even THOUGHT about that kiss he'd bestowed upon her moments ago. A second later, he had driven his fist through the mirror.

Jerica arrived at her hotel and went up to her room, knowing she had a flight to catch because they were going across the country to Uncasville, Connecticut to the Mohegan Sun Arena. She packed, hardly having any sleep and grabbed some Starbucks on the way to the airport, still wearing the outfit from the previous night. Steve had probably already caught his flight back to Victoria, Texas, which didn't bode well with her.

She wanted to tell him about what happened with Mark, deciding against it. They were best friends, she didn't want to interfere with that. Sighing, Jerica drove to the airport, her mind on what happened with Mark and Randy, tears stinging her eyes.

Would she ever catch a break?

"You look like shit, Orton."

Randy felt like shit. He felt like he was a walking body of bruises, which wasn't far from the truth. He shuddered to think of what would have happened if his dad hadn't come out and saved his ass. He was in agony. First from the brutal beat down Mark had given him, then the beat down from Steve and then that excuse of a match, which had been...wow, another beat down.

"Fuck off."

Pulling up to the arena, Jerica stepped out of her rental car and flicked her cigarette away, wearing a black long sleeved shirt that had a V shaped neckline with a pair of blue jeans, black moccasins on her feet. She had a leather jacket on since it was still fairly cold and her hair was down, curled at the ends, the barest makeup on her face. Jerica knew what awaited her and squared her shoulders, deciding to get back to what she did best. She was going to ignore every male specimen who came her way, her job her number one priority. Walking inside the arena with another Starbucks coffee, Jerica headed straight for her office, bags over her shoulder and black shades on top of her head.

"Hey, your woman is- Oh wait, she's not your woman is she? I bet she's 'Taker's." David teased, watching as Randy tensed, both men watching as Jerica walked down the hallway. "I betcha last night she was all wrapped up around him. Since he's been-" He groaned when he got a fist in his mouth.

Randy had heard enough.

Jerica walked right past them, her lips in one fine grim line, head held high. They could think whatever they wanted. As far as she was concerned, Jerica didn't give a flying leap. She didn't look at Randy, knowing if she did she would end up crying again. Though she inwardly smirked when Randy punched David in the mouth, finding that very amusing. She walked inside of her office, which was near the creative writing area, and closed the door before setting her things down. She was done hiding and being a coward. It was time to get back to her old self again as she sat down and began pulling articles and whatnot out of her bag.

David watched as Randy took off, shaking his head and checked his mouth, feeling along his teeth with his tongue for breaks, sighing in relief when he found nothing wrong. He arched an eyebrow when he seen 'Taker coming, looking like he was in a foul mood, and snorted. "Bad pussy?"

"What did you just say to me, boy?"

"You heard me-" For the second time in less then five minutes, David got a fist in the mouth.