Rain Delay

by Fallen Ark Angel

When their schedule appearance gets cancelled, Steph and Paul have to find something to do. They decide on one another. - one-shot.

It rained and the signing event they were scheduled to attend was, first, delayed. Then after toiling around in a cold, wet parking lot for two hours, it was fully canceled and they had an entire day free.

Most everyone did.

And were absolutely going to use it to get fucked up in Montreal.

"What are you doing, princess?" Paul sneered at her as he walked passed most the others, having waved off anyone offering him a ride or hoping to hitch one with him. His mindset wasn't exactly the same at the moment. Steph was riding with some of the other divas, but had lingered a bit, maybe to talk to him, he thought.

He hoped.

Maybe.

He still wasn't sure as he came to a stop before the woman. "What are the options?"

"Well," Steph hummed as she eyed him curiously. The rain was beginning to pick up and she was in a far too big, WWF branded hoodie that made him frown. Mainly because the hood did well at obscuring her features. With a nod towards her apparent ride, she said, "I could go shopping now and go clubbing later."

He nodded, but looked away. "I like it."

"Or," she shrugged some, and she ducked her head some, "Maybe I should just go ahead and go out, you know? When do you ever get the time?"

"Go out, huh?" And he could see the car geared that way, with dudes he thought the world of...until women got involved. "With them?"

She didn't look or motion to any of the other guys, some goofing off while two in particular argued over what spot to hit. They were verging on two party groups that could entice Steph and Paul really didn't like the idea of that.

"With everyone," Steph defended, but it wasn't everyone because she already said what the two other chicks were fucking doing. Her game felt obvious, but even more so when Steph, finding the man's refusal to take the bait too much to bear, prompted, "Are you going?"

Sucking in a breath, the man weighed his options. Then Steph's. Only seconds had faded, just enough time for Steph to clasp her hands behind her back and smile so sweetly up at him. Her hood fell back and he could see all of her then, eye lids fluttering in the soft mist to which the rain had momentarily turned.

"No." He wanted to. Now. But while they'd awaited the delay, he'd already gotten on a payphone with a local guy he knew, hoping to get some training in a more private gym. The second the cancellation was final, he'd rushed to confirm with the guy. Everything was already in motion. "Got plans."

"Plans." Stephanie frowned. Just for a second. It flashed across her face, heavy and evident as she realized she'd been denied. Refusal wasn't something she was accustomed to with men. Her hands came up to tug her hood back around her face. "How do you already have plans? We were supposed to be here all day."

"I'm an in demand man, McMahon." He couldn't help but snicker.

Even Steph smiled. "It must be important, so soon, if you'd rather go do it than go out with me-"

"That's not true, Steph." He took a step closer to her, cautious of their surroundings, but equally over getting out in front of a potential misunderstanding. He and the woman had spent the past two weeks skating on from timid flirting to out right spending time with one another; he couldn't risk sliding backwards. "It's not with someone else. It's...a gym slot. I wouldn't have cancel, you know?"

"Oh." Stephanie laughed, but it was awkward and she pretended to adjust her head once more. "Just the gym?"

Nodding, Paul sighed some as he assured her of such soft, "Yeah, well." When he noted her blue eyes still locked onto him, he took the breath back in before adding, "But I'll be around."

"Oh?"

"Tonight," Paul explained. "I'll meet up with you guys, you know?"

"Really?"

But he wouldn't promise her something he couldn't assure.

And definitely didn't want her to think he was showing up, get drunk, then disappointment by his absence and have one of the other guys swoop in.

Or any guy.

Or anyone.

"Maybe," he clarified, but that was bad too because Steph deflated some as the wind picked up and the real rain was coming. The storm they'd finally canceled for. One of the divas was calling Steph's name, motioning her over, but she only held up a finger, needing another moment.

"Maybe." She seemed disappointed. Shrugging some, she said, "Maybe I won't go out tonight either. Or at all. I actually have to get in contact with Daddy."

"And there's a payphone right over there," Paul pointed out. "Need a quarter?"

Stephanie shook her head. "I tried; I couldn't reach him. I'll have to try again."

"He keepin' that close of tabs on you?" he asked, biting back a frown. "Steph?"

Shaking her head some, Steph insisted, "He needs to know the event was canceled. Something stupid with the venue. They need him, specifically, to reschedule for tomorrow morning."

"So what you're saying is," Paul asked, frowning breaking through, "right now, Vince has no idea this event was canceled and, once he knows, our free day tomorrow turns into a make up for right now. And the only person, as of this moment, can alert him to that fact is you."

"Yeah." Steph frowned as well. "What's wrong with that?"

"Uh, princess," he griped some and, the step he took closer now was too close, maybe, for their locale, "I don't know if you fucking know this, but everyone who your little daddy will want to be here tomorrow morning is planning on getting absolutely fucked up. Right now, that's okay, because tomorrow no one has to get out of here until late. But if you tell Vince, today, about the cancellation, then tomorrow they will need to be on and ready for this stupid event."

Steph eyed him some, after he finished speaking before admitting softly, "I don't understand what you're telling me."

"You always want people to like you more?" He made a face. "Don't tell your dad."

"I have to."

"Do you?"

"Uh, yeah, Hunter, he asked me to."

"Steph, I'm trying to help you."

"No, you're trying to get me in trouble with Vince." She turned away from him then and he was going to lose her. After already pissing her off. Damn it.

He knew stopping to talk with her would end poorly.

"I… I'll cancel my fucking thing, huh?" He reached out a hand not to touch her arm, but to ghost over doing so. "The gym. And I'll go out drinking. Or watch you drink. Whatever."

But now Steph regarded him differently. "Why are you trying to get me drunk?"

"I'm not." He frowned at the implication. "You said you wanted me to go."

"I asked if you were going."

"Because you wanted me to go."

"Shut up, Hunter."

"Steph, I'm just telling you the truth," he huffed finally. He wasn't going to let them deviate too far from what was clearly her main stress point. "Do you wanna be one of everyone else? Or inline with your dad?"

She glared at him, rather than answer. His words had an affect he wasn't aware of though as, when she glanced between the two different cars and her options for the day, suddenly, Steph felt weary about each. Paul's insistence that she was othered was already nestling its way back into her brain, after weeks of not feeling that way, and now every shared joke or laugh played back quickly in her head.

They must hate her.

"Can I go to the gym with you?"

"What?"

Steph's eyes were on Paul then, but her expression was harder to read and she didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Or can you at least give me a ride back to the motel?" she asked. "You probably have to get your gym bag anyways, right?"

Bringing a hand up to his head, Paul rubbed slightly as he said, "I thought you were going out?"

"And now I want to go out to the gym."

"Have you ever heard of the word indecisive?"

"If you don't want me to go-"

"I didn't say that." He dropped his hand and sighed. "If you wanna come, fine. But you should probably go explain that to your friends."

But they weren't her friends now.

He was.

Paul was waiting in his car for Steph, messing with the radio when she slid into the passenger seat. Without glancing up, he asked, "You really wanna go to the gym?"

"Uh, yeah, I really do." She made a face over at him. "If I'm not invited-"

"Again, I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

He didn't know. Her canceling on all the others was fucking with his brain.

Recently, he and Steph had been spending more time time together. Specific time together. But it was normally far more hush-hush. Disappearing off together in a group at a bar was suspect, but gave some chance of plausible deniability.

Steph choosing to get into his car offered none.

"Nothin'," he answered the woman before cranking the radio and pulling off.

When they got to the motel, they both went off to grab their gym bags. The rain picked up though, during this interval and was even lightning when they raced one another back to the car.

"You know, Steph," he remarked as they drove along in what the event had assured them would eventually turn into torrential rain. "I'm starting to think that was made the best decision."

"Oh yeah?"

"Fuck yeah," he grumbled, his voice nearly drown out by a particularly clamorous roar of thunder. "It's only gonna get worse out. Spend a few hours at the gym and straight back to the motel? Better than getting lost downtown, drunk off your ass, trying to find everyone else. Fucking hate that shit."

Stephanie giggled. "You just hate fun, I think, Hunter."

"Nah." He liked her there, beside him, sitting straight as a rail as she stared curiously out the window at the storm encapsulating them. Whatever perfume or bodyspray or whatever fuck she wore filled his car and he hoped it stayed that way for awhile, like when he gave her a ride to the next venue a few weeks ago. "Just have a different idea of it."

The gym was just a hole in the wall of some guy Paul knew, from years back, but the best were, and he spent a good chunk of time just catch up with the other guy. He figured Steph would linger about him, as most women he took to the gym did, but he also knew she was at least somewhat into fitness, he thought, maybe.

She talked about regimens and shit with him, anyways.

Still, he'd never actually gone to the gym with her. Never had a reason to. While he wouldn't say he was impressed by anything she did, a confirmation of shared interest.

"Come to the gym with me a few more times," he snickered to her, knocking elbows as they left, "and I'll have you filled out in no time."

"Oh?"

"Have ya lookin' just like me."

"Somehow I don't think you'd like that as much as you think you would."

They'd waited inside the building for a break in the rain and, now with one, made a beeline for his car, laughing at something he said, he thought, maybe, or maybe just as a runoff for their emotions. He'd hoped pumping some iron would held burn off all the thoughts racing through his mind, and they might have, had Stephanie not accompanied him.

With the object of his constant obsession in a sports bra and tight shorts nearby, getting her out of his mind was easier said than done.

It was raining when they arrived back to the motel. Dinnertime was upon them and Steph saved him having to ask her out to dinner.

"I wanna go take a shower," she told him as they sat together in his car, waiting for another break in the heavy rainfall. "And I assume you do too. Then...maybe you could go out and get us dinner? But maybe not with the rain-"

"We have to eat." He had his head pressed to the window, but his eyes were strained to see Steph still, in the seat beside him. "Might as well do it together. Share a meal. Your room, maybe?"

She hummed, Steph did, but it was broken by a giggle at the end and Paul bit his lower lip, just to fight a grin.

Their separation was torture.

He was so convinced that she'd have either called her dad during that time and let slip that she'd spent her free time with him. Or maybe something else would come up. She'd get a call from another friend. Or the women would return and she wouldn't feel as put off by them, his cautions fading with even the slightest amount of time.

Or what if she just didn't wanna see him.

What if she took her takeout box, thanked him, and sent him away.

What if?

She didn't, of course.

In fact, he'd hardly raised a fist to the door before it was flung open and Steph was ushering him inside.

"I'm starved," was her excuse, but when she didn't suggest at least one of them sit at the tiny desk, but rather both sit with crossed legs on one of the two tin beds, kneecaps brushing, well…

"I'm Paul," he retorted and though Steph giggled, it seemed to have the desired affect as, when she spoke, she was certain to reflect this.

"Okay then, Paul," she snickered, dragging his name out awkwardly as they found their places on the bed. "What do you wanna talk about?"

She looked so pretty, freshly showered and her still slightly damp hair down. Her face had been scrubbed clean and that felt important too, in a way he couldn't quite explain.

"Not much of a talk."

"Sure about that?"

He nodded. "I'd much rather sit and, uh, you know, enjoy the view?"

Her laugh was different this time, fuller as she eyed him openly. "But you don't have a way with words, right?"

"Awful with them."

Shaking her head some, she popped the lid on the black, Styrofoam container while saying, "Well, it'll be a boring evening if you're wanting to just hear me talk the whole time."

"No it won't." He popped the lid on his own container before reaching to his left pocket and pulling two sealed spork, napkin, salt and pepper combo things that he didn't realize he had no idea what were called until that very moment. Offering one to the woman before him, he said, "I love hearing you talk."

Cheeks red, Steph could do little more than retort, "Shut up," to the man, but he was insistent, especially when her fingers brushed his as she was taking the spork packet, sending a sharp jolt through each as thunder boomed overhead.

"I'm not kidding, Steph." His hand fell and his eyes drifted as he shrugged some. "Your life's interesting me. You shit about people I've known years and had no idea about."

Her grin fell some as she clarified, "You like when I talk about others. Not me."

"No." Shit. He was off today. Or she was. Looking back to her, he willed her to maintain his gaze as he earnestly expressed, "It's you, Steph. I like hearing about shit you got into or heard about. You lived the coolest life ever. Going to events and shit. Seeing stuff firsthand. The kid in me is jealous."

"Well," she breathed as it was her turn to hide a smile, doing so down at her food. Stabbing at lukewarm, nearby diner meatloaf she was certain to take no more than a single bite of, she said, "If you have a kid in you, you should really be having dinner with the person who put it there."

Paul narrowed his eyes as Steph's smile broke free of its constraint as she giggled at her own joke, down at her food.

The sight was endearing to the man.

"I'd rework that one, Steph," he told her. "Too wordy."

"Verbose."

"Gesundheit."

He loved making Steph laugh, no matter how stupid the initial joke. Even then, as she grinned at him, showing all her teeth, all he could think was how to get her to do it again.

"It doesn't have to be about wrestling though, Stephanie, you know," he thought to add before the assumption got away from them. "I'm serious. Tell me about you."

"I'm serious." Her laughter had died, but her blue eyes still stayed trained on him and, this time, he didn't dare look away. "You really don't. I'm boring."

"I'm boring."

"No."

"Okay, well, then I feel that same no you feel about me."

"What?"

Paul dropped his takeout box to his lap and reached out, no hesitation, to cup her cheek, just like he might if they were on camera, in the center of the ring, but they were all alone, in her motel room, and when she leaned into his touch, it wasn't for anyone, but him.

And maybe herself.

"Tell me," he whispered softly, "about you."

So she did.

In a different way now.

Stephanie always found that the most interesting aspect of her life usually had very little to do. Which was fine. She loved to talk about the company. The sport. All of it.

Her passion was unmatched.

But unneeded then. She had forever to tell him about stupid old guys and the stupid old things and the stupid old days.

It felt like they only had tonight to discuss the rest.

Like what her time in college was like. Her major. What she'd wanted to do, if not this.

"Nothing," she answered easily and he believed her, but only shrugged some as he couldn't attest to the same.

"I wanted a lot of things. Or would have taken them, I guess, if this wasn't around." Paul frowned down at his meal. "It's weird to think about."

They talked about a lot of things that were kind of weird to think about, if you ruminated on them too long. The pair didn't, alternating effortlessly between ranges such as, "What's your favorite season?" to weird experiences they'd had with people in their past.

Steph had a lot.

"I know more people," she defended when he told her it was absolutely bonkers that she not only had a former best friend become an aggressive stalker, but also an ex boyfriend who'd done the same. "And I'm more personable."

"I dunno." He was much happier with the diner meatloaf than the woman and was devouring it. "I'm starting to notice a common denominator in all of this."

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh." He didn't fight it now. Had long given up. Just let his smile shine through, matching the woman's bright one. "Staring right at her."

Dinner was ending though, her having rearranged her food enough that it was a mess now, just as he was finished clearing his own. Though he was sure Steph wouldn't immediately kick him out, he also wasn't sure of how to extend his stay organically.

"Can I ask you something?"

Stephanie frowned at the man's question, but shrugged all the same as she replied easily, "Of course."

"Why did you choose to come with me? This afternoon?"

"Paul, come on-"

"I wanna know."

Stephanie shrugged some, staring at some motel wall art hanging on a nearby wall. To it, she said, "I just wanted to hang out with you."

That felt good.

But it wasn't the truth.

"I'm serious, Steph." That time when he reached for her, it was her chin, thumb and forefinger catching it as he drug her gaze back to his own. "Was it… Something I said?"

"I don't… You're making it sound like a bad thing." She frowned at him. "Why does it matter what I chose?"

"I-I dunno." He coughed and dropped her chin. "Never mind. We can just-"

"You said that no one likes me."

"What? No, I-"

"Because I was going to tell Vince- Oh, shit," Steph cursed and he was surprised by how much the sound turned him on. "Vince!"

Slamming closed the top on her hardly touched takeout, she set it to the side before tumbling to her side and reaching for the phone. Paul tossed his empty box off to the side as well, the ground actually, where it clattered as he reached for the woman as well.

"Steph, stop," he complained as he pulled her back to center. He'd had to lean over her, to grab her arm, which immediately put any thoughts of her father out of Stephanie's mind and directly, instead, onto the man in her bed. He huffed even, as once they were righted, he realized how inappropriate the move had been, maybe. But he still held Steph's arm in a tight grip and she didn't move in the slightest to rectify this. Relenting, but not releasing, he whispered, "Forget about him for a second. He's probably still busy anyway. So talk to me. No one hates you."

"I didn't," she whispered softly, "say hate."

"They don't dislike you either."

"You said-"

"I said," he defended, "that if you want people to think of you as part of the locker room, you gotta think like the locker room sometimes. Not like your daddy's little robot. You tried to reach Vince. He was unreachable. You have done your due diligence as a member of this company. Obsessing over it not only wouldn't help you track your old man down and it sure as shit won't make you look like a team player."

"We won't get paid fully if we don't do the event," she retorted. "You don't think everyone wants to get paid?"

"Tonight? No, everyone wants to get fucked up and sleep it off in the morning."

"Okay, but if you look past tonight-"

"That's not our job. Right now, at least." He let her arm go, but it was only so he could pat at her shoulder. "You'll call him in the morning, tell him you just kept missing him last night, apologize, and move on."

Rather than confirming or denying this as her intent, Stephanie just asked the man, "You don't think everyone hates me?"

Sighing, he shook his head a bit as he insisted, "Nah, Steph. I really don't. I misspoke."

"I misunderstood," she corrected with a shake of her own head.

"It doesn't matter," he assessed and, momentarily, they were both frozen, just staring at one another.

He was right.

It didn't.

"I think," he continued, shifting slightly on the bed, forward again, just to lean his face closer to the woman's, "that you're a great person. You're funny and smart and beautiful. What's to dislike?"

His breath smelled of the meatloaf she'd hated so much, but somehow, ti was far more appetizing, wafting off the man.

"Dunno," she whispered and he wouldn't have believed it anyways, in that moment, had she listed one. When her hand came up, it was to ghost her fingertips over the rough dirty blonde stubble that lined his jawline. "There has to be something though."

Every breath he took in was a sad attempt to regulate what was certain was a quickly budding heart attack.

"Why?" he asked, blinking back his own confusion as the woman grinned at his question. But he kept up, "Why do you have to have something wrong with you? You're perfect."

She kissed him. Suddenly. Briefly. Just a peck to his lips. No time to initiate anything further. Contemplate it, even.

"Everyone," she insisted as her forehead pressed against his and one of the man's hands fell to her corresponding hip, squeezing some as she said, "has something wrong with them."

"Yeah," he breathed, breath hot on her face as his free hand brushed her hair behind her ear. "But you're not everyone, Steph."

With rosy cheeks, she pulled back some, but only so she could properly gaze into his dark eyes as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Don't you know?" He couldn't stand the lack of contact. Pressing his forehead against hers once more, he couldn't imagine a damn thing that would make him walk back out of that door. "You're special."

"Shut up."

"Never. Not about you."

"You're just saying that."

"Why would I, huh?" No longer wanting to squeeze her hip, his hand drifted instead beneath the soft tee she'd slipped on after her shower. Her flesh was warm and soft and he wanted to rest against her for awhile, a long while. "We were already here, Steph. I'm telling you this because I mean it. You're different."

His words felt too generic, like he'd played this game before, but she knew the man and his love for the long winded.

He could have thought of something better to say to her. Even then, if she rejected his statement, she was sure he could rework it in a snazzier way. But there was something in his sincerity, the way his brown irises grew when her hand reached for his chest.

He could have existed like that, breathing one another in, but it wasn't enough for Stephanie. Not then. They'd been building to this for weeks, months, and she just couldn't wait any longer.

Paul had imagined fucking Stephanie.

He imagined fucking a lot of people.

Including women up at work, yes.

Stephanie was his wife though, no matter how imaginary and pretend, which meant she was the woman he saw the most of backstage. Which meant he had a lot more time to fine tune just what their fucking would be like.

He imagined her very meek. And innocent. The way she tried to portray herself to him, usually. Stephanie was naturally naive. Easy to get to know. To understand.

But if he'd just spent the past few minutes finding out how deep her still waters ran, he was now being shown that all his assumptions about the woman were wrong.

Flat out wrong.

He'd kissed the woman before. Made out. Whatever. But this was different. This was hungry. This was her shoving him onto his back and straddling his waist as she leaned over him, shirt balled in one hand, shoving her tongue down the man's throat practically.

Paul had never imagined her like this.

He imagined it was all he'd imagine her like from now on.

"Baby," he whispered as the hand beneath her shirt continued it's path up, stroking momentarily at her spin before finding it's true destination; the hooks of her bra. Tugging at the back of it, he didn't unhook the garment yet. "Yeah?"

Stephanie laughed at him. Not giggled. And he laughed too as she nodded her affirmation, the man quickly continuing on his mission.

Deftly maneuvering the hooks of her bra, he managed to undo it with one hand, but had no time to revel in this feat. The second the tension was gone, her breast bounced some, their proportions shifting in freedom.

Her ass was above his crotch as she rested fully against him, knees bent on either side of the man. The hand balling his shirt slowly relented as his own free one began to tease along the hem of her tee.

"Paul," she whispered only for the second time and there was something so erotic about it being, well, erotic. He didn't realize how long it had been since someone had called him by his real name. Her tone was clouded by need and, as the hand slithered beneath the fabric, she added, "Please, baby."

"Please, baby," he repeated as his hand stopped, just beneath her breast, the tip of an already erect nipple barely out of grasp, "what?"

She ground her hips into his lower stomach and Paul knew he couldn't play this game with her. He wanted to, maybe one day, but right now, teasing her would only end up with him embarrassing himself.

Just the thought of fucking Steph made him wanna burst.

Having her there, wanting it just as badly as he, made it difficult to rationalize not getting right to the deed.

The looks that passed over Steph's face then, pensive to sultry, reminded him of just the reason.

Experiences were fleeting; memories could be a lifetime.

He wanted to have so much to remember that it came to him in waves. On lonely days in motel rooms all alone. When he was back at home, trying to convince himself to go back on the road.

Or fuck, even later that night in the shower.

"Please, baby," she pleaded, "make me feel good."

He palmed her right breast, bra hanging loose around it, while Steph's hands came to press into his chest and she had to take a deep breath. Paul took one with her, saying on exhale, "I want to."

She licked her lips as his thumb pressed into her rock nipple. He wanted it to see it. Her. Her boobs. Just her. Nipples were. But her. He bet her pussy was shaved clean and was so pink and glistening.

But all of her.

He wanted all of her so much.

"You are," she insisted before leaning down once more and they could have kissed forever.

He wanted to kiss forever.

Until he didn't.

Steph grinding into him because, honestly, she didn't either.

When they broke apart that time, Steph fell off him, knocking into her take out some, which made the woman complain, but he had to get to his feet anyways.

"C'mere," he insisted as, after dropping his jeans and boxer shorts, he bundled his shirt in his hands and tugged it off as well before "Let me undress you."

But Steph felt frozen in the harsh light of the motel room, looking over the man fully nude for the first time. He seemed unabashed though, motioning her on when she hesitated before getting to her feet as well.

"How do you do it, baby?" he whispered as he shoved her shirt up. "If I looked like you, I dunno if I'd ever leave a bathroom."

"What?" she giggled as he gently tugged at the front of her bra, pulling it down her arms.

"I'd just be in there all the time." He could see a bruise now, on her side, from a bump she'd taken in the ring that week, and he wanted to know if she felt the about them as him, addicted to that hiss of pain when someone pressed into it. "Looking in that finger and jerkin' it. Err, well, fingerin' it?"

"You're so," she insisted, as she always did, with a giggle as his finger traced over the bruise, rather than find out, "weird."

"You just don't see you," he promised her as his other hand was undoing the drawstring of her shorts, "the way that I see you."

"How," she asked as he shoved them down then, "do you see me?"

Nude, he realized in surprise. She'd been commando.

"I already told you," he whispered as she stepped out of the shorts piled at her feet. His hands found both of hers, interlacing their fingers as he leaned down, pressing his forehead into hers, brown eyes locked with the woman's blue. "Nothing. Not a damn thing. You're flawless."

Their kiss was soft. How he imagined. He thought that maybe the passion had been what got Stephanie so worked up before, now he could have what he always imagined.

But no.

Stephanie countered his gripping of her face with some of her own and when he tried to lead her back to the bed, she only broke apart, pushing him instead into the other, so far unused cot.

Paul gave easily, catching the woman when she immediately climbed into his lap. Keeping her gathered in his arms, the man shifted backwards, dragging the woman with him.

"Look at you," he muttered though he wasn't, head buried in the crook of her neck. His fingers offered more than enough insight though, dancing along her shoulder blades, down her back, all the way to her ass, each hand pawing at each cheek, the woman shifting uncomfortably from this, but still giving her gaze even with him. "Beautiful."

"Enough." She grabbed one of his arms and the man chuckled as she brought it to her breast. "My boobs are up here."

They didn't share a laugh that time, too gone into the moment, but their smiles mirrored one another.

"Yeah, they are," Paul whistled lowly as his other hand turned to her front, but not her breasts. "What else is up here though, I wonder?"

"I wonder," Steph mimicked, but her eyes were attached to his lips now, dissecting every word he said as he rolled her left nipple in his fingers now, getting to see it, all of it, everything he wanted.

It still wasn't enough.

She felt like he imagined, fingers roaming her lips below. Seeing it then, shoving her off to the side and fingering her, flat on the bed, with every thing visible might have been too much for the man. Just the touch…

"Do you have something?" Steph whispered and he snickered as her hand stroked gently at his erection.

"Oh yeah, baby," he assured her. "I have a big something."

She made a face. "Condom. Do you have a condom."

Oh.

Yeah.

"Of course." He was embarrassed then, not wanting Steph to think he was unclean. "Always. Just, uh, in my wallet-"

"I got it." She turned in his lap and the man was never happier for it. The sight of her leaning over the bed, breasts danging, snatch just barely flashed for him, fuck.

Fuck.

They were gonna fuck.

She found his wallet in his pants pocket, the old leather worn so poorly in places that they were nearly holes. Handing it off to the man, she muttered, "Well, I know what to get you for your birthday."

Paul snorted flipping open his wallet and digging around for the slim, square wrapper. Flashing her the foil packet, he planned to be super sexy (or at least try) and rip it open with his teeth or something, but the second she saw it, Stephanie snatched the condom wrapper from him.

"Let me," she requested and fuck, he wanted to take control.

He knew if he made a play at power, more than likely, Stephanie would give into him. But as she worked her hand over the man, he would have allowed the woman to do nearly anything she desired.

Even set the tone.

And the pace.

Stephanie didn't fantasize in the same way as the man. About...this. What they were doing. Any thoughts she had of Paul in such a way ended right about here. In her mind, it wasn't about the actual connection. The emotions. Not the sex.

But she wasn't in her mind now.

Now she was actively over the man, about ready to impale herself on him, and oh, yes, it was absolutely about the sex.

This was mindless.

Paul shifted at her ushering, to get himself situated as the woman wanted, hissing when she held him still in her hand finally, on her knees above him. She looked so beautiful, unabashed even in the white motel lights. Her breast hung perfectly, round and waiting to plucked.

Or at least sucked.

But then Stephanie eased down over him and fuck, this was good too.

This was great.

This was perfect.

"You're perfect," he insisted to the woman again as she worked her hips over him and it took a lot out of him, when he gathered her hips in his hands, not to try and flip them. But he couldn't imagine any position better than this.

He wanted to die here.

He could die here.

"Yeah?" she asked when she stilled somewhat, just rocking now. This did little for Paul (at least comparatively), but when she did so just right…

"Swear." Her head was close to his, hanging just before it. Nuzzling his into hers, Paul whispered, "Is this what you want baby?"

"Mmm?"

His hands had mostly been stroking at her back and hips, feeling and pulling, but now one came to the front of her pussy, wasting in flicking a rough thumb over her clit. Steph's gasp was unreal and he wanted it bottle, recorded, to hear it again.

He had to hear it again.

"I got you," he assured her softly and Steph blushed, but nodded as she shifted once more over him, how he liked it before. The man moaned at the sensation, lowly, before begging, "Please, Steph."

And that was too much for her.

To have him beg her for anything was…

It was the man that needed more now, Steph thought, and intended on providing him with it. She cried out for him, regardless of how close she truly was, as she began slamming against him harder. Faster. His free hand was on her hip mainly, but slipped off many times in her frenzy.

For all the thought Paul had put into this prior, never once did he imagine it so.

Steph riding him.

Frantically.

Impaling herself over his cock.

The headboard was banging against the wall and they were being far too loud, even for early evening, as there was absolutely no mistaking what was taking place in the room. Steph's gasps were real and she tried hard to swallow them, but Paul was mutter so much under his breath, about how sexy she looked, like this, and how he'd wanted this for so long, wanted her, and she concurred.

This was everything.

This was over.

She tried so hard to avoid it, but she'd built herself up too quickly, maybe, because she coming, sobbing this to the man as he egged it on and when Steph's motions began to still, he forced his hips up, truly now, to get the last bit of stimulus he needed to find his own relief.

Paul agreed with Stephanie.

It was over too soon.

She clung to him, wrapping both arms tightly around his shoulders as the man panted.

"You," he whispered huskily and Stephanie laughed girlishly as the man finally did as he wished, bucking up now not for contact, but rather to force her over. "Stephanie."

"You," she agreed back, allowing him to ease her into the bed as she gazed warmly back up at him. The man's blond hair titled her face as he gazed down into her eyes and Steph brought a hand up to tuck it behind his ear. "Paul."

Leaning closer, his hot breath tickled her ear as he asked, "Did I make you feel good, princess?"

Though she didn't verbally answer, when she caught his face between her hands and pulled him closer for a kiss, he figured he must have.

He knew he couldn't have to the moment forever.

Steph slipped out of the tiny bed eventually, promising him that she wouldn't take long, but the man only nodded some as he kinda wanted her gone then too. Her getting up had shattered the illusion a bit.

But not fully.

He wanted her back, the second she disappeared behind the door and, after cleaning himself up the best he could in the motel room, he gave Steph what he felt like was adequate time to...well…before knocking at the door.

"Uh," he heard Steph from the other side, muffled by the running shower, "it'll be another minute."

"Can I come in?"

"In a minute."

"I'm gross, Steph," he griped a bit, having to yell to be heard clearly. Or not clearly. He could hardly make out her words and imagined her straining just as hard with his. "Can I please just come shower too?"

There was a pause. A few moments thought. Then, finally, an, "Okay," drifted his way and Paul had listened closely, to be sure of it, before he tried the door.

Finding it unlocked, he strode into the bathroom still as nude as he'd been the last they saw one another and unbothered by the fact. They'd just bumped uglies not beneath the sheets, but rather out in the open, fully, with one another.

But Steph still crossed her arms when he pulled back the shower curtain, as if to hide her breaths. But he only smiled in her face.

"I missed you."

"Shut up," she retorted, but it was with a giggle.

Paul took it as the final go ahead.

Stepping into the shower with her, he grit his teeth at the strength of the hot water's heat.

"Scalding me off you?" he asked as, not really concerned with his cleanliness, at all, he immediately took his place behind the woman. Pulling her back against his chest, he griped, "Just how clean you wanna be?"

"It's not that," she whispered softly and she was blushing, he knew, deep and red. Or maybe the heat of the shower was getting to her. "I'm cold."

"Cold?" Paul squeezed her tightly. "Already? We were only apart a few minutes."

"Maybe I need you there," Steph whispered and they'd both say anything then, he knew, they were that entranced with one another, and to not let it go to his head.

Easier said than done.

"Maybe," he agreed before he showered her neck and collarbone in kisses, "you do."

"Paul," she panted, angling her head to give him more access. The man's hands had shifted though, from holding her and instead to easing her legs apart, "please-"

"I want to," he assured her and both their hairs were wet, sticking everywhere, and as it thundered overhead, Paul tried to figure out how a rain out led him here. "Please, baby."

She felt too sensitive, too embarrassed, honestly, as everything that had taken place in the bedroom felt so far away from them then. His words made her consider otherwise though and, when her legs open further, he was the one that moaned.

"Just feeling you, Steph" the man proclaimed hoarsely, "fucking does it for me, all ready. Shit."

The second time was easier to get too, yet less intense, thankfully, though the man had to support them regardless. He was snickering, even, as she bit the fist she'd shoved into her mouth. Paul pressed his head into the side of hers, not speaking now, not promising or pleading, but just breathing.

Existing.

They did clean up eventually, as the too hot water died into lukewarm and, just as they were stepping out, cold. It was awkward maybe, or at least Steph's cheeks were tinted, as they each grabbed a towel and took to drying off. Paul was rushed through doing so, hair still very wet when he turned to face Steph once more.

"Let," he mocked her, from before, as he eventually snatched the towel she was using, "me."

He did help Steph dry off, dragging the towel around her body roughly. The woman had expected a more sensual touch and made a face, but it was an amused one. Her laughter was differnet now, but so his intent, as she genuinely seemed to be entertained by the man and he was actively walking her backwards.

Steph didn't even realize her short steps until her back was against the cool bathroom counter. Glancing back at it, she frowned before up at Paul. A question was poised on her tongue, but changed as his hands suddenly grabbed her.

"Wha-"

"There you go." He set her up on the bathroom counter with a toothy smirk. "All dry?"

"Well, I guess so," she complained a bit as it was his turn to laugh.

"You look pretty dry to me." Paul pressed his hands onto either side of her thighs, leaning over so that his face could sway before hers. "Princess."

"And clean?" she prompted, raising her shoulders a bit as she grinned at him.

Nodding, Paul assured her, "So clean."

They kissed. Sweet and soft. One of Steph's hands ran up his arm, trailing along the indentations his chiseled muscles offered. Her touch tickled though and he had to break eventually, to take in a deep breath. When he turned back to Steph though, her lips were waiting, other hand coming up to grasp his face.

"Mmm, baby, no." She pulled away from him suddenly, but her hand remained there, stroking gently at his chin. "No more."

He'd shifted his weight to one arm, leaning heavily into it as his other found her thigh once more. At her words, he frowned some, but nodded.

"Of course," he agreed easily. "No more."

"Did you want me to-"

"No." He didn't even want her to finish. Just wanted her lips back on his. Her head pressed against his once more. He'd take any amount of her she was willing to give him. With a shake of his head, he grinned at the woman. "I don't."

But they were nude and it was hard to hide that his refractory period was over. He'd been hoping to fuck again, Steph was sure, as he was no longer flaccid.

"Please, baby," she begged him, same as he had her, reaching out tentatively as her blue eyes locked with his brown. "I wanna make you feel good."

"You already have," he replied as, leaving her thigh, his hand now came up to cup one of her breasts in his hand. He wanted so badly to examine it, put his lips to it. Take her nipple into his mouth and suckle as she moaned.

But he couldn't will his eyes away from her gaze if he tried.

"Even better then," she insisted as he hissed as her hand made contact with his most sensitive flesh.

As Steph's hand worked over his erection and his own groped at her breasts, neither took a single peep. Not at what the other was doing. Not at what they were doing. They couldn't.

To be the first to turn away would be the greatest sin.

"Stephie," he groaned when he was close. "I'm there, baby. I have to-"

"Stephie?" She grinned into his eyes while Paul only squeezed his shut. He wanted to turn away from her, she could tell, to finish in his own palm, thinking it too gross to do so in hers, but after all the things they'd done that night, it hardly felt so to the woman. "I've never been called that. Like you slurred my name. Like you're drunk."

He was.

On her.

He wouldn't have traded that night for a thousand others with a thousand other women. Steph was too much. Especially the way she giggled just as he peaked and he could have sworn that grin she wore wasn't an innocuous as it seemed.

Resting his head against her shoulder, Paul muttered, "No more."

She milking him then, bringing her hand up to stare at the smeared residue that lay there.

Paul raised his head to glance at it as well before reaching over tot he sink beside her and turn on the faucet. Smiling at him in thanks, Steph immediately stuck her hand under the stream, watching it quickly whisk away one of the night's residuals.

When he raised his head, she turned her own back to look at him and this time their kiss was brief.

An ending.

For the moment.

Paul need to clean himself up again and turned to find a washcloth. As Stephanie watched, he ran a rag under the stream before taking care of himself.

"Now," he remarked as he returned to the woman, "we can get out of this fucking bathroom."

Steph knew he'd carry her, before he even offered. When he reached for her, she wrapped her arms and legs around the man, catching a glimpse of them in the mirror that hung over the sink. She didn't always like herself like this, nude, but found the man's form captivating.

Always, of course, but even more so now.

Like a final layer had been revealed. She naturally saw him close to undressed, out in the ring nearly nightly, but now the last part of the puzzle was complete.

Paul dropped her in the bed they hadn't fucked in, grumbling some as he moved to clean up her takeout trash once he had. Steph only bounced on the bed, grinning brightly as she observed. When he came back to her, it was to fall into her waiting arms, burying her head in her boobs as the woman giggled and, for awhile, they snoozed.

He didn't stay resting against her like that for long and, though the bed didn't offer them much room, Steph liked it better that way. She knew from their time in the ring that the man didn't mind physical contact, but he seemed equally as interested in cuddling as her.

It was a surely a first for the woman.

"Are you leaving?"

Steph hated how small her voice sounded, a few hours later, when she felt the man climbing out of bed. They were so entwined, honestly, that there was no way for him to get up without alerting her. He'd gotten both feet on the ground, at least, sitting on the edge of the bed, but at the sound of Steph's voice, he immediately turned back.

"Nah." He grinned at her. "Gotta take a piss."

"Gross," she complained but when he returned a few minutes later, the woman was still up, awaiting his embrace before she could drift back off.

The next time he awoke, it was because someone slammed their car door outside, startling him. He sat up even, getting a moan from Steph, who slept through the noise, as she was jostled in her sleep. Paul took in a few deep, hopefully calming breaths as he played the night back to himself.

He'd fucked Stephanie.

Right.

Grinning to himself, he glanced down at where she was curled up to him on the bed.

He was going to fuck Stephanie.

Again.

He wanted to, anyways, as he turned into her, nuzzling against Steph's neck to wake her.

"Wha'?"

"Shhh." He smiled into her blinking eyes. "Just me."

Stephanie was disoriented as the man had been, when he first awoke. "Paul."

"Yeah." He pressed a kiss to her neck, muttering into it, "Paul."

One of Steph's hands came up first to brush across his stumble before burying in his hair. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah." Raising his head, he pressed a sloppy kiss against the side of hers. "So am I."

Steph's hand had fallen from his hair, due to the man's movement, but she only caught his cheek instead, running her fingers down it as she asked, "For breakfast?"

The slight shake of his head brought a grin to her lips.

Both were still drowsy as they kissed, it showing in the languid movement the pair had. Paul rubbed gently at her lower stomach as they did so, the woman shivering at the feel, goosebumps left in his wake.

Not as much had to be worked up to. When their lazy making out grew boring, Paul only propped his head in hand, arm bent and elbow pressed into the bed, as his other hand propped below. They'd knocked off the lights before, giving him only the tiniest rays of light peeking through the blinds to see by.

"The perfect," he insisted as his finger slid with ease into the woman, "pussy. How, Steph? How? Huh? What gives you the right?" He craned his neck, just once, to see if it stacked up to all he'd imagined. "Immaculate."

And she had to remind herself too. Same as him.

Just because it all felt right, fated, didn't mean it was.

Steph whined softly when he withdrew his hand, but Paul shushed her with a kiss.

"How many," she sighed as he was the one leaning over the bed this time, to find his wallet, "of those do you have in there?"

"Just two." Snagging the wallet, he snickered some as he corrected, "Now none."

Stephanie shoved up some on her elbows, but only to position herself more comfortably in bed while watching the man. He could feel it too, as she bit her lip and eyed him. Paul rolled the condom over himself, eyeing the woman greedily.

"Stephie," he breathed as he looked her over.

She lay beneath him, legs spread, waiting.

He couldn't convince himself that their time together was coming to an end.

"So good," she breathed as he slipped inside of her. As he sucked in a breath, Stephanie whispered, "Fuck me, Paul."

God, she was killing him.

Her eyes were skewed shut as she pleaded with the man, begged the man, in nonsensical garbled words, hoping she could will him with her words. One of his hands were at her thigh as the other worked him over and it felt like he were looking her over. Pausing.

"Please," she whispered more clearly then and the man nodded, eyes finding hers, as he finally moved to place himself properly over her.

Just the sight of him above her, messy blond hair tumbling all about, got a soft moan.

"You're so pretty." He kissed her cheek as he slipped inside of her. "Stephie."

She wanted him to keep calling her that. The same way she panted his name when the pressure began to build. The man was just grunting though, softly, in her ear. One of his hands were at her hip, but she couldn't tell if he was trying to contain her bucking or further it along.

"Is that good?"

"So good, fuck, so good."

He laughed, at her cursing, but Stephanie only moaned as his thumb flicked her clit and they didn't have forever.

The storm had passed through the night and now they had to get back to their real lives.

But it was so fucking hard, allowing that night to pass them by.

He held out for her, but shit it was hard, and he could only sob into her neck as he finished, muttering about all she was to him, even if it wasn't fully true.

They kissed for awhile after, all over. Steph had started it, kissing at his shoulder and it didn't take much to get the man to do the same. He wanted his lips rubbed right, bright red and bloody, before he left the hotel room.

This time when Steph went off to the bathroom, she giggled about him just giving her a minute and then he could join her.

"Yeah, but we gotta be quick," he muttered as one of her hands stroked his cheek. "If we're going to make breakfast."

"You'll take me to breakfast?"

"I," he retorted, "bought dinner."

"And?"

"You'd think someone with a billion dollar slap," he griped, "could afford to buy a man a plate of eggs and bacon from time to time."

"Why would you think that?" Stephanie cocked her head to the side, toying with the rough hairs that lined his jaw. "You can't get to a billion without saving it."

Paul narrowed his eyes. "We'll go dutch."

"Oh, will we?"

No.

But he did like teasing her.

As the moment passed them by and it was time for them to get cleaned up, get ready to leave, Paul found it hard to let the moment go without cautioning her, at least once.

"If you're ever in the situation again, Steph," he said as her hand shifted to cup his cheek, "choose shopping."

"W-What?"

"In the parking lot," he grumbled softly, "if you're ever in a situation where you have to decide between…. Between going out with some of the other guys up at work or going shopping or, fucking, doing any fucking thing else, do anything fucking thing else."

"Why?" she breathed and Paul huffed.

"Because," he explained, "they… Not everyone would have your best interest at heart, you know?"

Again, this felt took vague. When he tried to nuzzle his head into her curled palm now, he found it flat and drifting.

"What," she asked, tone less dreamy. "do you mean?"

"I just… If you're ever alone with… You shouldn't make this a regular thing, you know?" He slowly slunk off her, falling off onto his butt to the side. "I care about you. Not everyone does."

Steph wanted to respond immediately, but to two separate points and it broke her brain struggling to grasp at which.

"You," she breathed and he openly rolled his eyes, "care about me?"

"Shuddup." He bit back a smile. "Stephie."

"And fuck you, anyways." Her cursing didn't make him happy now, as it was directed with a bit of annoyance in his direction. "This isn't a regular thing to me. I actually really like you, Paul."

"I know."

"Do you do this a lot?" she questioned and his eyes grew as he was quick to shake his head.

"Of course not, Steph."

"Then-"

"I'm just saying, baby." He held out a hand to her and, when the woman took it, held pull her up a bit, so they could stare at one another evenly. "No matter what happens between the two of us, don't expect to get this elsewhere."

"Why should I trust you then?" she asked, but the man shrugged.

"You probably shouldn't." He wanted her touch again, on his cheek, but didn't know how to make that known. "You shouldn't trust anyone."

"Last night you said no one hates me," she complained, "And now-"

"It's not hate, Stephanie, that you have to be worried bout here," he told her. "People that hate you are usually pretty obvious about it and you can just avoid them. As best you can, anyways. It's the people that do genuinely like you, that are actually your friends, who are gonna hurt you the most. This isn't a team sport. Not really. It's about the individual. And you add a lot of value to a person, you know? You just have to be careful."

Her eyes searched his and Paul wouldn't look away, knew better than to, as the woman told him plainly, "I wanna be with you."

Chest tight, the man nodded as he assured her, "I wanna be with you too."

"Then-"

"We just have to be careful." He smiled when she leaned up and over to press her lips to his cheek. "Stephie…"

"I'm gonna go shower," she breathed. "Maybe if you give me a minute, you could…"

"Join you?" he helped and she blushed, but the man only kissed her, deeply, before allowing her to finally slip away.

It would be another hour before Paul sat silently on the edge of the bed while Stephanie sat beside, finally getting in contact with her father on the hotel room phone. He wasn't happy that she hadn't put more of an effort into calling him the night before, but Stephanie was hardly listening, anyways, as she and Paul made eyes at one another.

"I actually have to go, Daddy," she informed the man as some of Paul's fingers tickled up her arm and she fought the urge to shiver. "I wanna get breakfast before I get on the road."

He didn't like being cut off. Or that he could have sworn he heard someone else there with her, but Stephanie rolled her eyes as she told the man they could talk later and dropped the corded phone back in its cradle.

"Vince is gonna be pissed."

"Let him be pissed." Stephanie didn't wanna have to think about the man or anything else, really, in the final few minutes she had Paul all to herself. Both hands free now, she turned more into the man as her hands found his face, tugging him down for a kiss. When she broke apart, Steph still held his face as she insisted, lips brushing lips, "I only care about you."

Paul dropped his jaw, for affect and Stephanie mimicked him and it wasn't fair.

That it was already over.

"Where do you wanna go, princess?" he asked after they were in the car, having thankfully avoided any of their colleges on the way. "I'll take you anywhere."

The sky was clear that morning, sun just beginning to break over it in streaks of pinks and deep reds, and it was almost amazing, how quickly things could change.

"Oh, really?"

"Mmmhmm."

"I thought I was paying," she giggled. "Paul?"

"I said I'd take you anywhere. Nothing about paying." He gripped the steering wheel tightly even though he'd yet to shift the car into drive. Stephanie was playing with the stereo or maybe looking through the CDs and cassettes that lay on the console. He wasn't sure. He couldn't risk fully looking over at her. "Hey, you know though, Steph, uh… You gotta call me Hunter, you know? In front of everyone else?"

"O-Oh, yeah, I guess I do," she replied softly, caught off guard. "Maybe I should just always-"

"No, It's…"

He let out a heavy breath before his hand fell from the steering wheel and down to her thigh, squeezing softly. Turning to look at her finally, he grinned at the Megadeath cassette she was poised to slip in the player, but mainly her. And the way her eyes glistened, awaiting his words. And her. Always her. Her hair. Just her.

Just Stephanie.

"There's a way we can be, you know, around everyone else?" He turned fully then, so he could kiss her gentle, but being certain to pull away before it could turn to anything further. Searching her eyes for understanding, he added, "And a way we can be when we're alone."

He found it, as Stephanie nodded, insisting with him, "When we're alone."

As he pulled out of the motel parking lot that day, he hoped to find plenty more time for them to be just that.