A/N: I'm in love with this pairing. I know this isn't a very original idea, but I had fun writing it. Enjoy!
* * * *
Smoothing down her skirt for the umpteenth time, Stephanie stared at her glossy crimson nails as Paul continued to yap on beside her. She'd tuned him out quite some time ago, occasionally nodding and smiling, and not even bothering to do that most of the time. His voice was beginning to grate on her nerves, and for a second she was overwhelmed with the urge to slap him right across the face. Or maybe elbow him in the balls.
Unable to suppress it, she let a small chuckle slip as she pictured his face when her elbow slammed into his crotch. That probably wouldn't have shut him up, though. His voice would have turned impossibly falsetto, and the horrid screeching would undoubtedly continue at its new earsplitting volume.
"Did I say something funny?" Paul snapped, interrupting himself.
Stephanie slid her eyes to meet his, narrowing them and tilting her chin downwards. "Paul, I'd appreciate it if you'd watch your tone with me."
The man straightened immediately, pursing his lips tightly together and nodding quite vigorously. "Yes, of course, Ms. McMahon. So terribly sorry."
With an indiscernible roll of her eyes, Stephanie looked out the window of the limo, watching what little light flickered through the tinted glass zip by them. Paul was the biggest ass kisser she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting in her life. She wondered if he ever really thought for himself or simply molded his every thought around what the people in power wanted him to be.
"Stephanie?"
Paul's voice was overly-loud, which led her to believe that he'd been trying to get her attention for some time. "What?" she asked shortly, turning her head just enough to look at him.
"I asked you what you had planned for that rat Eric next," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.
With a small sigh, Stephanie pushed a lock of hair behind her ear with her index finger and regarded Paul with a smirk. "Paul, really. Do you think I'm stupid enough to tell you my plan before I put it in effect?"
Raising his eyebrows, Paul slapped his hands over his heart. "I'm hurt! Why would I ever betray you, Princess?"
She pursed her lips and wrapped her fingers absently around the hem of her skirt. "Because you're so very easily swayed by the dollar sign."
Paul smirked and settled back against the seat, resting his arm against the back as he leered at her. "As are you, my dear."
Stephanie felt a small shudder run through her at the way Paul's eyes roamed her body with his last statement. She was glad that she signed his paycheck because otherwise, she had a feeling that more than his eyes would have been on her.
"You do have a plan, don't you?" Paul persisted, leaning over Brock to look at her.
Rolling her eyes, Stephanie looked back out the window, pointedly ignoring him. Of course she had a plan. In fact, it was the best she'd come up with yet. Not only had she delivered a blow to him live and in person at Raw, but she was going to reveal the identity of the newest defector at the SmackDown taping tomorrow night. Two consecutive blows that would undoubtedly knock him on his ass.
She could still see the pained look in his eyes once he'd realized exactly what she'd told him that night. He looked like he was either going to hit her or cry, and she realized that either option would have been mildly entertaining. If he'd hit her, he would have had Brock to deal with, and she somehow doubted Eric could withstand the Current Big Thing. Crying, however, would have been preferable to the way he'd looked at her upon arriving. With that smoldering glare that managed to enrage her and turn her on all in the same breath.
Stephanie let her mind wander back to him, the way he looked as he'd sauntered up to her in his all black attire. The way his eyes had narrowed with his smile, dimples deepening almost obscenely. She pictured the slight swing of his hips and the pout of his lower lip as he smirked at her.
Swallowing roughly, Stephanie let out a breathy sigh as heat flooded her stomach and spread between her legs. Okay, so maybe his crying wouldn't have been preferable. She shifted slightly, tossing a quick look at Brock and Paul to make sure they hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. They hadn't, thankfully, and she crossed her legs quickly, embarrassment flooding her cheeks as she looked away again.
Dealing with Bischoff in any capacity was a trying enough situation, but when she added the craving to feel him to the mix, he became an almost insurmountable obstacle. She knew from watching the tapes of them that they had chemistry. No one was going to deny that fact, not even her father. From all the time spent watching their interactions, she knew that she returned his sultry looks tenfold. Yet somehow she found solace in knowing that it was all part of the game. Shoot him lustful gazes and watch his resolve slowly begin to crumble. Tease him about her 'peaches' and watch him get a look on his face that was almost orgasmic. It was all part of their little game of cat and mouse.
Except for the fact that she could never figure out which of the two roles she had adopted.
The limo finally stopped at the hotel, and the driver rushed to open the door for them. Stephanie slid in the seat, extending each leg before planting it on the asphalt and standing. She smoothed down her skirt and stepped out of the way as Brock and Paul got out behind her.
"Your bag, Ms. McMahon," the driver said, handing her the small black purse she carried.
She took it absently, fishing out her keycard and turning to Paul and Brock with a flip of her chestnut hair. "Gentlemen. I'm retiring to my room for the night." Before either of them could respond, she strode purposefully to the doors of the hotel, nodding slightly as the doorman smiled and pulled the heavy glass door open for her. She made her way through the lobby and to the elevators without making eye contact with anyone, her mind still in places she would have preferred it not to have been.
Before she knew it, she was inside her room and kicking off her shoes, moving directly to the mini bar and grabbing the first alcoholic beverage her fingers closed around. She settled down on the couch with a heavy sigh, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as the alcohol burned slowly through her veins. She'd never drink enough to get drunk, but after an encounter with Eric, she needed a different kind of fire in her system besides the inevitable one between her legs.
She pulled the barrettes from her hair and tossed them on the end table across from the couch, setting the drink down on the edge of the table and running her fingers through her hair absently. The cell phone in her bag started ringing and she sighed as she stood to grab the purse.
"Stephanie McMahon," she answered, hoping the annoyance in her voice carried her point across to her caller.
"Nice one, Steph."
Rolling her eyes, Stephanie perched her hand on her hip. "What do you want, Eric?"
"Just to say that you won't get the upper hand next time, Princess," came his smug reply.
She smirked and tossed her hair over her other shoulder. "Really. Well we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"
"Hmm, I guess we will," he said, the heavy smirk evident in his voice. "Did I mention that our little games are starting to become more and more of a turn on?"
Moistening her lips quickly, Stephanie fought to come up with a quick rebuttal. "And did I mention that you make me sick?" It wasn't what she had been looking for, but his brief silence told her that her comment had found its mark.
Finally, he chuckled softly. "That's not what I've seen."
Raising her eyebrows, she walked back to the couch and sat down, folding her legs under her and smoothing down her skirt. "Oh really? Needing bifocals in your old age, Uncle Eric?"
"Ouch. Keep saying things like that and I just might get insulted," he said, his voice betraying any truth there might have been in his statement.
"Mmhmm, I"m sure," she purred. "You're never insulted."
He chuckled again, the sound irritating her. "You're right about that, Princess. I'd never let a bitch like you get under my skin."
She narrowed her eyes and smirked wickedly. "That's not what I've seen."
"A little young to be going blind, aren't you?"
"You forget, Eric," she murmured, her voice purposely dropping an octave and taking on a more seductive tone. "A woman can always tell when she gets under a man's skin."
"Well, now that you mention it ... your voice really does get under my skin. Something like a fungus." He said it in the same irritating tone that made her want to slap him across his face again.
She calmly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smirked. "As much as I'd love to listen to more of your very innovative insults, I need to get some rest."
"Beauty sleep, my dear? Really, I think you paid your plastic surgeons enough to be past needing such things. Or was that just on your breasts ...?"
Rolling her eyes, Stephanie adjusted the phone against her ear. "And wouldn't you like to find out firsthand?" she asked, hoping it sounded more sarcastic and less of an offer.
"Do you even have to ask?" he said with a laugh. "You know I'd love to taste your peaches."
The way he said it sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. "And maybe if you close your eyes and imagine hard enough, you will," she retorted quickly. "Goodnight, Eric." She cut the connection quickly, turning off the ringer and putting the phone back in her purse. As usual, he'd left her with that disconcerted feeling, that nagging thread of arousal still tinged with anger and irritation.
She sighed and quickly stripped out of her shirt and skirt, dropping them on top of her duffel bag and digging around in the suitcase on the floor for her nightgown. It was her favorite, the blue silk chemise that made her really feel like royalty. She slid out of her bra and panties, slipping on the nightgown and smoothing it down the generous curves of her body. Quickly platting her hair, she clicked out the light and slid under the covers of the king sized bed, wishing for a split second that the spot beside her was occupied by a certain dark-haired general manager.
* * * *
Despite the sneer she knew she was wearing on her face, Stephanie was actually pleased to find Eric Bischoff in her personal office. He was lounging casually in her chair, his feet propped up on the desk, eating her emergency stash of Doritos.
"What in the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, crossing the room and snatching the bag of chips, shoving them back in her desk drawer.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm waiting for you," he said with a cheeky grin. "I didn't think it would take you this long to get to your office."
She rolled her eyes and tightened her ponytail, finally thinking to be self-conscious about the way she looked. It was mid-afternoon, so she wasn't in full managerial mode yet. She was dressed in a pair of dark blue low riding jeans and an old baggy t-shirt, tied in a knot just under her breasts so it showed her long, tanned stomach. Her hair was in a high ponytail at the back of her head, and she was wearing virtually no make-up.
Her appearance, however, obviously didn't phase him, because he was looking her up and down in that slow, approving manner that made her feel somewhere between dirty and desirable. She refused to squirm under his scrutiny, looking at him instead through lowered lashes. "Well some of us have real jobs to do."
He smirked and swung his legs down from the desk, rolling the swivel chair forward a little so that his face was in line with her bare stomach. He took another long look up her body, finally meeting her eyes with a grin. Before she even realized it, his hands were on her hips and he was using her to pull himself to his feet. "Are you implying that I don't have a real job?"
She struggled to stay still under his touch, raising her eyebrows at him pointedly as his hands stayed on her hips even after he'd risen. "If the shoe fits," she fired back.
Shaking his head, Eric slowly slid his fingers up her bare sides. "I think I'd like to try a different shoe on for size, if you don't mind."
Despite herself, Stephanie shivered as his fingers brushed up her sides. She realized herself quickly, however, and pushed him away roughly, hoping that her shiver had been interpreted as a shudder. "I think you should go," she said evenly.
"And why's that?" he smirked, following her step back with a step forward.
Because I'm going to let you fuck me if you don't, she thought to herself. To him, she simply shook her head. "I don't have to explain myself to you. This is my arena and my office. And I want you the hell out of my building."
The shit-eating grin didn't budge from his face as his shoulders rose and fell quickly in a shrug. "You gonna have security throw me out again?"
"Maybe," she smirked. "Would you like to stick around and find out?"
He chuckled lowly and brushed his hair back with one hand. "I can take a hint. I'll see you later," he said, moving to the door and looking back at her over his shoulder before slipping out the door and closing it with a click.
Stephanie let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, sitting down at her desk with a sigh that was quickly replaced with a huge grin. If he had any idea what she was planning, he'd piss himself, she realized gleefully. Sure, he'd gotten under her skin again, but tonight ... victory would once again be sweetly in her hands.
* * * *
With a triumphant grin, Stephanie clicked off the monitor in her office. She settled on the couch, throwing her head back and laughing in amusement. Her plan had worked just as she'd expected, surprising everyone with her newest addition to SmackDown. Hopefully, though, she'd managed to surprise Bischoff more than anyone else.
There was a knock at the door and she stood up slowly, pulling it open and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "You."
Eric glared back at her, his entire body radiating anger from every fiber. "How dare you!" he hissed, fire pouring from the brown orbs of his eyes. "You bitch!"
With a satisfied smirk, Stephanie stepped aside and pushed the door open wider, gesturing for him to enter the room. "Why don't you come on in?" she invited, her voice sickeningly sweet and friendly.
He stalked past her and into the room, spinning on his heels and turning to glare at her once again as she closed the door softly behind him. "Twice in a row? That's low, even for you."
Raising her eyebrows and lifting the corner of her mouth into a half smile, Stephanie jutted her right hip out slightly, setting her hand on it. "Oh? And what about you stealing *three* of my superstars at one time?" she asked, staring at him evenly.
He was still seething, eyes narrowed into impossibly small slits, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to control his temper. "That was different!"
"How?" she fired back quickly.
He shook his head and she noticed for the first time that his fists were clenched at his sides. "It just is!" he insisted, his voice straining to stay at a normal range. "I can't believe I ever let myself relax around a goddamned McMahon."
Tilting her head to the side, Stephanie raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like your mistake, Eric, not mine."
"You're going to get what's coming to you, and I'm going to see to it," he growled, stepping closer to her, glaring at her.
Stephanie moved both hands to her hips, looking up at him with a superior smirk. "And exactly what do I deserve, hmm? Are you going to knock me out?" Her voice was smug and she was sure that her face was an impossible mask of haughtiness, but her body was screaming for him. His body was so close that she could feel the warmth of him and smell his cologne. She was meeting his irascible stare with fervor, her gaze dropping only once to the luscious lines of his lips.
"What do you deserve?" he asked incredulously, grabbing her upper arms firmly, but not so much as to hurt her. He pulled her body roughly against his, the fire in his eyes changing ever so slightly as his chest began to heave with slightly labored breaths.
Stephanie swallowed roughly, narrowing her eyes and feeling her own breathing start to kick up as her heartbeat quickened. His hands weren't content to stay gripping her arms, and once their bodies were separated only by their clothes, his hands strayed down to her hips, grasping them. "You heard me," she answered, tilting her head back slightly and trying to keep her cocky smirk in place.
"I'll give you exactly what you deserve," he growled, licking his lips as he slid his hands around to her ass, cupping it and using his grasp to lift her body slightly. His lips crushed against hers, and she tilted into the kiss, clamping a hand tightly around his neck and using it for leverage as her tongue sought entrance to his mouth. He parted his lips and accepted her tongue, sucking on it greedily as his hands kneaded her ass.
She snaked her other hand around his waist, sliding it along his back and moaning against his mouth as his tongue parted from hers long enough to insinuate itself into her mouth, lapping against every surface it could find. She slid her hips purposefully over the bulge in his jeans, rewarded with a low moan as he pulled his tongue from her mouth with a small slurp.
"You deserve to be treated like a little slut," he murmured as he drug his lips across her jaw, stopping to deliver his words directly into her ear.
She shivered and grinned, pulling his head down to capture his lower lip with her teeth, tugging lightly at it. "Then do it," she said throatily, her words sounding more like a challenge than an offer.
His tongue darted out and lapped at her lower lip before removing one hand from the curve of her ass, wiping the few folders and papers from her desk and onto the floor. He lifted her easily, setting her on the desk and returning his tongue to her mouth.
As they kissed, Stephanie feverishly started to remove his shirt, her fingers flying over each button until the shirt was hanging open, exposing his chest and stomach to her hungry fingers. She slid her hand along his skin as the fingers of her other hand traveled south to his pants.
With a groan, he pressed closer, spreading her legs to settle against the desk. He broke from her mouth and shimmied out of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor. Settling his hands back on her hips, he lifted her slightly so he could push up her dress, letting it ride up to her waist before setting her back down. He caught her lips with his again, sliding his hand between her legs and stroking the inside of her thighs before teasing the damp silk crotch of her panties.
She moaned at the contact, delving her tongue into his mouth as his fingers pushed aside her panties and stroked along her slit. "Dripping already, you dirty little thing," he grunted as their lips broke apart. "I'm surprised you even bothered to wear underwear."
Irritation swelled through her and for a split second, she remembered exactly why she hated him so much. Before she could come back with a biting retort, he was pulling the dress from her body, discarding it along with his shirt. He lowered his head to her neck, lips and tongue sliding down her throat and chest, trailing down to the cleavage created by her bra.
She let her hands fall limply to her sides as his tongue sucked at the side of her breast. His hands slid around her back, undoing the clasp and pulling the straps from her shoulders, the arousal in his eyes growing as her breasts swung free. Tossing the bra aside, he steadied himself against the desk as he lowered his head to one breast, sucking it with a gentleness she hadn't expected.
His mouth settled over her nipple, tongue swirling around it until it was aching with its hardness. He moved to the other one when he was satisfied, repeating the process until she was arching against his mouth, her clit throbbing with arousal.
"So fucking hot ..." he murmured as he kicked off his shoes so he could slide his pants down and off.
She couldn't seem to get any words out, so she settled for a low moan as he worked her panties off her body. His hands slid along the inside of her thighs before he dipped a finger inside of her, kissing her almost savagely as his finger stroked her inner walls.
Their tongues clashed fiercely, and Stephanie growled triumphantly as her hand found his cock, eliciting a moaned curse from him. "You bitch."
Breaking away from his mouth, Stephanie shifted against the finger inside of her. "I thought I was a slut," she taunted, giving his erection a light squeeze. "Are you going to treat me like a slut with this or just your finger?"
His finger withdrew from her and before she knew what he was doing, he climbed on top of her, knocking her back against the desk. "Do you ever shut the fuck up?" he hissed, pressing his stomach against hers, his cock brushing against her thighs.
She sneered and wrapped both arms around his back, digging her nails roughly into his flesh. "Do you ever actually use your dick?"
Crushing his mouth against hers, Eric knocked her legs apart further so he could settle between them completely. Stephanie moaned and arched against him, lifting her head to accept more of his probing tongue. She was light-headed from lust, his smell gradually making her dizzier until everything in the room except him looked hazy. His mouth was hot on her skin as it slid down her neck, sucking and biting until the skin was satisfyingly purple.
His cock brushed against her opening as he steadied both hands on either side of her, grateful that the desk was wide. His lips trailed up her neck, sucking her earlobe into his mouth before murmuring, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."
A smartass retort was about to leave her lips when he took the first step of making good on his promise. He bit her shoulder as he thrust cleanly into her, sheathing himself to the hilt in her silky wetness. She arched sharply against him, molding her breasts to his chest with a cry of surprise and pleasure. He took the opportunity to slip an arm around her waist, securing her tightly against his body.
"So hot," he murmured, pulling out slowly and quickly slamming back in.
She moaned incoherently, screwing her eyes shut and raising to meet his hips as he found a steady rhythm. It felt like every nerve ending in her body was being stimulated as he slammed into her. Their bodies were almost completely pressed together, making her feel like he was coating every inch of her heated flesh. His breath was hitting her neck in hot, erratic bursts, and she struggled to catch a gasp of air. She felt dirty and giddy. Steady and rattled. Weak and empowered all in the same instant.
He opened his eyes to look at her, his face so filled with lust and passion that she felt a fresh surge of pleasure spark through her. She tilted her head back and moaned, rocking her hips against him and curling her legs around his waist for leverage. She thrust against him in time with each of her pants, her hands sliding erratically over his back and down the swell of his ass.
With a sharp intake of breath, he began to grind into her, angling his cock so that he could take her even deeper. "That's it. Scream for me ..." he growled, sucking the base of her throat as he continued his new pace of thrusts.
Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Stephanie felt herself implode with heat and pleasure, clenching her hips against his sides. She surged forward, gasping into his shoulder as her body was wracked with forceful shudders. Her head dropped back against the desk, moistening her lips as her breath huffed between them. "Ohh ..." she murmured, her inner muscles continuing the clench around his cock as she rode out her orgasm. He let out an unintelligible series of moans and curses, bucking his hips frantically against her a few more times as he spilled his seed inside of her with his release.
He finally stilled except for the heaving of his chest as he struggled to draw in a deep breath. Wrapping his fingers loosely around her hair, he kissed her quickly as he withdrew himself from her. A lazy smile crossed her face as she looked up at him, his face flushed with desire and a thin sheen of sweat beading his hairline.
"Now that was a fuck," he said breathlessly, steadying himself on the desk with his hands as he slid down her body to plant his feet on the floor.
Stephanie pushed herself up on her elbows as his body left hers. "Sure as hell was."
"Remind me to thank the rest of the locker room for loosening you up," he smirked as he retrieved her panties from the floor.
Scowling, Stephanie slid off the desk and snatched the panties from him. "Fuck you."
Returning the superior smirk she'd offered him earlier, Eric shook out his jeans as he slid into them. "Just did, Princess."
"If you had any idea how much I hate you ..." she seethed, dressing hurriedly.
He chuckled low in his throat, buttoning the last button of his shirt and doing his best to tame his disheveled hair. "Then you'd have half an idea of how much I hate you," he threw back. "Just remember, Princess, that you didn't seem to hate me when I was fucking you through the desk."
With another smirk, he captured her lips again quickly before sauntering to the door. He pulled it open and stepped into the doorway, turning and flashing her a brilliant smile. "I'll be seeing you soon," he said, complete with a cheesy point.
Tossing her hair over her shoulder and licking her lips, she smiled seductively. "You're damn straight."
He winked with a faint laugh, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Stephanie sighed shakily once he was out of sight, smoothing down her dress and bending to pick up the objects he'd knocked from the desk. She caught her reflection in the mirror as she rose to full height, and she turned to look at herself. Surprised, she set the folder on the desk and stepped closer, smiling at her image.
Happy, she decided. Flushed and unstrung, but definitely happy. She shook her head with a slow smile and regarded her reflection with an incredulous expression. "I gotta get a grip."
END
The way he licked his lips and touched my hips
I knew that he was slick
You make me sick
I want you and I'm hating it
Got me lit like a candlestick
I get too hot when you touch tip
I'm feeling it
I gotta get a grip
And it's driving me crazy
Baby don't you quit
Can't get enough of it
You got me going again
Baby you got me going again
You make me sick - ("You Make Me Sick" by Pink)
* * * *
Smoothing down her skirt for the umpteenth time, Stephanie stared at her glossy crimson nails as Paul continued to yap on beside her. She'd tuned him out quite some time ago, occasionally nodding and smiling, and not even bothering to do that most of the time. His voice was beginning to grate on her nerves, and for a second she was overwhelmed with the urge to slap him right across the face. Or maybe elbow him in the balls.
Unable to suppress it, she let a small chuckle slip as she pictured his face when her elbow slammed into his crotch. That probably wouldn't have shut him up, though. His voice would have turned impossibly falsetto, and the horrid screeching would undoubtedly continue at its new earsplitting volume.
"Did I say something funny?" Paul snapped, interrupting himself.
Stephanie slid her eyes to meet his, narrowing them and tilting her chin downwards. "Paul, I'd appreciate it if you'd watch your tone with me."
The man straightened immediately, pursing his lips tightly together and nodding quite vigorously. "Yes, of course, Ms. McMahon. So terribly sorry."
With an indiscernible roll of her eyes, Stephanie looked out the window of the limo, watching what little light flickered through the tinted glass zip by them. Paul was the biggest ass kisser she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting in her life. She wondered if he ever really thought for himself or simply molded his every thought around what the people in power wanted him to be.
"Stephanie?"
Paul's voice was overly-loud, which led her to believe that he'd been trying to get her attention for some time. "What?" she asked shortly, turning her head just enough to look at him.
"I asked you what you had planned for that rat Eric next," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.
With a small sigh, Stephanie pushed a lock of hair behind her ear with her index finger and regarded Paul with a smirk. "Paul, really. Do you think I'm stupid enough to tell you my plan before I put it in effect?"
Raising his eyebrows, Paul slapped his hands over his heart. "I'm hurt! Why would I ever betray you, Princess?"
She pursed her lips and wrapped her fingers absently around the hem of her skirt. "Because you're so very easily swayed by the dollar sign."
Paul smirked and settled back against the seat, resting his arm against the back as he leered at her. "As are you, my dear."
Stephanie felt a small shudder run through her at the way Paul's eyes roamed her body with his last statement. She was glad that she signed his paycheck because otherwise, she had a feeling that more than his eyes would have been on her.
"You do have a plan, don't you?" Paul persisted, leaning over Brock to look at her.
Rolling her eyes, Stephanie looked back out the window, pointedly ignoring him. Of course she had a plan. In fact, it was the best she'd come up with yet. Not only had she delivered a blow to him live and in person at Raw, but she was going to reveal the identity of the newest defector at the SmackDown taping tomorrow night. Two consecutive blows that would undoubtedly knock him on his ass.
She could still see the pained look in his eyes once he'd realized exactly what she'd told him that night. He looked like he was either going to hit her or cry, and she realized that either option would have been mildly entertaining. If he'd hit her, he would have had Brock to deal with, and she somehow doubted Eric could withstand the Current Big Thing. Crying, however, would have been preferable to the way he'd looked at her upon arriving. With that smoldering glare that managed to enrage her and turn her on all in the same breath.
Stephanie let her mind wander back to him, the way he looked as he'd sauntered up to her in his all black attire. The way his eyes had narrowed with his smile, dimples deepening almost obscenely. She pictured the slight swing of his hips and the pout of his lower lip as he smirked at her.
Swallowing roughly, Stephanie let out a breathy sigh as heat flooded her stomach and spread between her legs. Okay, so maybe his crying wouldn't have been preferable. She shifted slightly, tossing a quick look at Brock and Paul to make sure they hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. They hadn't, thankfully, and she crossed her legs quickly, embarrassment flooding her cheeks as she looked away again.
Dealing with Bischoff in any capacity was a trying enough situation, but when she added the craving to feel him to the mix, he became an almost insurmountable obstacle. She knew from watching the tapes of them that they had chemistry. No one was going to deny that fact, not even her father. From all the time spent watching their interactions, she knew that she returned his sultry looks tenfold. Yet somehow she found solace in knowing that it was all part of the game. Shoot him lustful gazes and watch his resolve slowly begin to crumble. Tease him about her 'peaches' and watch him get a look on his face that was almost orgasmic. It was all part of their little game of cat and mouse.
Except for the fact that she could never figure out which of the two roles she had adopted.
The limo finally stopped at the hotel, and the driver rushed to open the door for them. Stephanie slid in the seat, extending each leg before planting it on the asphalt and standing. She smoothed down her skirt and stepped out of the way as Brock and Paul got out behind her.
"Your bag, Ms. McMahon," the driver said, handing her the small black purse she carried.
She took it absently, fishing out her keycard and turning to Paul and Brock with a flip of her chestnut hair. "Gentlemen. I'm retiring to my room for the night." Before either of them could respond, she strode purposefully to the doors of the hotel, nodding slightly as the doorman smiled and pulled the heavy glass door open for her. She made her way through the lobby and to the elevators without making eye contact with anyone, her mind still in places she would have preferred it not to have been.
Before she knew it, she was inside her room and kicking off her shoes, moving directly to the mini bar and grabbing the first alcoholic beverage her fingers closed around. She settled down on the couch with a heavy sigh, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as the alcohol burned slowly through her veins. She'd never drink enough to get drunk, but after an encounter with Eric, she needed a different kind of fire in her system besides the inevitable one between her legs.
She pulled the barrettes from her hair and tossed them on the end table across from the couch, setting the drink down on the edge of the table and running her fingers through her hair absently. The cell phone in her bag started ringing and she sighed as she stood to grab the purse.
"Stephanie McMahon," she answered, hoping the annoyance in her voice carried her point across to her caller.
"Nice one, Steph."
Rolling her eyes, Stephanie perched her hand on her hip. "What do you want, Eric?"
"Just to say that you won't get the upper hand next time, Princess," came his smug reply.
She smirked and tossed her hair over her other shoulder. "Really. Well we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"
"Hmm, I guess we will," he said, the heavy smirk evident in his voice. "Did I mention that our little games are starting to become more and more of a turn on?"
Moistening her lips quickly, Stephanie fought to come up with a quick rebuttal. "And did I mention that you make me sick?" It wasn't what she had been looking for, but his brief silence told her that her comment had found its mark.
Finally, he chuckled softly. "That's not what I've seen."
Raising her eyebrows, she walked back to the couch and sat down, folding her legs under her and smoothing down her skirt. "Oh really? Needing bifocals in your old age, Uncle Eric?"
"Ouch. Keep saying things like that and I just might get insulted," he said, his voice betraying any truth there might have been in his statement.
"Mmhmm, I"m sure," she purred. "You're never insulted."
He chuckled again, the sound irritating her. "You're right about that, Princess. I'd never let a bitch like you get under my skin."
She narrowed her eyes and smirked wickedly. "That's not what I've seen."
"A little young to be going blind, aren't you?"
"You forget, Eric," she murmured, her voice purposely dropping an octave and taking on a more seductive tone. "A woman can always tell when she gets under a man's skin."
"Well, now that you mention it ... your voice really does get under my skin. Something like a fungus." He said it in the same irritating tone that made her want to slap him across his face again.
She calmly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smirked. "As much as I'd love to listen to more of your very innovative insults, I need to get some rest."
"Beauty sleep, my dear? Really, I think you paid your plastic surgeons enough to be past needing such things. Or was that just on your breasts ...?"
Rolling her eyes, Stephanie adjusted the phone against her ear. "And wouldn't you like to find out firsthand?" she asked, hoping it sounded more sarcastic and less of an offer.
"Do you even have to ask?" he said with a laugh. "You know I'd love to taste your peaches."
The way he said it sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. "And maybe if you close your eyes and imagine hard enough, you will," she retorted quickly. "Goodnight, Eric." She cut the connection quickly, turning off the ringer and putting the phone back in her purse. As usual, he'd left her with that disconcerted feeling, that nagging thread of arousal still tinged with anger and irritation.
She sighed and quickly stripped out of her shirt and skirt, dropping them on top of her duffel bag and digging around in the suitcase on the floor for her nightgown. It was her favorite, the blue silk chemise that made her really feel like royalty. She slid out of her bra and panties, slipping on the nightgown and smoothing it down the generous curves of her body. Quickly platting her hair, she clicked out the light and slid under the covers of the king sized bed, wishing for a split second that the spot beside her was occupied by a certain dark-haired general manager.
* * * *
Despite the sneer she knew she was wearing on her face, Stephanie was actually pleased to find Eric Bischoff in her personal office. He was lounging casually in her chair, his feet propped up on the desk, eating her emergency stash of Doritos.
"What in the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, crossing the room and snatching the bag of chips, shoving them back in her desk drawer.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm waiting for you," he said with a cheeky grin. "I didn't think it would take you this long to get to your office."
She rolled her eyes and tightened her ponytail, finally thinking to be self-conscious about the way she looked. It was mid-afternoon, so she wasn't in full managerial mode yet. She was dressed in a pair of dark blue low riding jeans and an old baggy t-shirt, tied in a knot just under her breasts so it showed her long, tanned stomach. Her hair was in a high ponytail at the back of her head, and she was wearing virtually no make-up.
Her appearance, however, obviously didn't phase him, because he was looking her up and down in that slow, approving manner that made her feel somewhere between dirty and desirable. She refused to squirm under his scrutiny, looking at him instead through lowered lashes. "Well some of us have real jobs to do."
He smirked and swung his legs down from the desk, rolling the swivel chair forward a little so that his face was in line with her bare stomach. He took another long look up her body, finally meeting her eyes with a grin. Before she even realized it, his hands were on her hips and he was using her to pull himself to his feet. "Are you implying that I don't have a real job?"
She struggled to stay still under his touch, raising her eyebrows at him pointedly as his hands stayed on her hips even after he'd risen. "If the shoe fits," she fired back.
Shaking his head, Eric slowly slid his fingers up her bare sides. "I think I'd like to try a different shoe on for size, if you don't mind."
Despite herself, Stephanie shivered as his fingers brushed up her sides. She realized herself quickly, however, and pushed him away roughly, hoping that her shiver had been interpreted as a shudder. "I think you should go," she said evenly.
"And why's that?" he smirked, following her step back with a step forward.
Because I'm going to let you fuck me if you don't, she thought to herself. To him, she simply shook her head. "I don't have to explain myself to you. This is my arena and my office. And I want you the hell out of my building."
The shit-eating grin didn't budge from his face as his shoulders rose and fell quickly in a shrug. "You gonna have security throw me out again?"
"Maybe," she smirked. "Would you like to stick around and find out?"
He chuckled lowly and brushed his hair back with one hand. "I can take a hint. I'll see you later," he said, moving to the door and looking back at her over his shoulder before slipping out the door and closing it with a click.
Stephanie let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, sitting down at her desk with a sigh that was quickly replaced with a huge grin. If he had any idea what she was planning, he'd piss himself, she realized gleefully. Sure, he'd gotten under her skin again, but tonight ... victory would once again be sweetly in her hands.
* * * *
With a triumphant grin, Stephanie clicked off the monitor in her office. She settled on the couch, throwing her head back and laughing in amusement. Her plan had worked just as she'd expected, surprising everyone with her newest addition to SmackDown. Hopefully, though, she'd managed to surprise Bischoff more than anyone else.
There was a knock at the door and she stood up slowly, pulling it open and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "You."
Eric glared back at her, his entire body radiating anger from every fiber. "How dare you!" he hissed, fire pouring from the brown orbs of his eyes. "You bitch!"
With a satisfied smirk, Stephanie stepped aside and pushed the door open wider, gesturing for him to enter the room. "Why don't you come on in?" she invited, her voice sickeningly sweet and friendly.
He stalked past her and into the room, spinning on his heels and turning to glare at her once again as she closed the door softly behind him. "Twice in a row? That's low, even for you."
Raising her eyebrows and lifting the corner of her mouth into a half smile, Stephanie jutted her right hip out slightly, setting her hand on it. "Oh? And what about you stealing *three* of my superstars at one time?" she asked, staring at him evenly.
He was still seething, eyes narrowed into impossibly small slits, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to control his temper. "That was different!"
"How?" she fired back quickly.
He shook his head and she noticed for the first time that his fists were clenched at his sides. "It just is!" he insisted, his voice straining to stay at a normal range. "I can't believe I ever let myself relax around a goddamned McMahon."
Tilting her head to the side, Stephanie raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like your mistake, Eric, not mine."
"You're going to get what's coming to you, and I'm going to see to it," he growled, stepping closer to her, glaring at her.
Stephanie moved both hands to her hips, looking up at him with a superior smirk. "And exactly what do I deserve, hmm? Are you going to knock me out?" Her voice was smug and she was sure that her face was an impossible mask of haughtiness, but her body was screaming for him. His body was so close that she could feel the warmth of him and smell his cologne. She was meeting his irascible stare with fervor, her gaze dropping only once to the luscious lines of his lips.
"What do you deserve?" he asked incredulously, grabbing her upper arms firmly, but not so much as to hurt her. He pulled her body roughly against his, the fire in his eyes changing ever so slightly as his chest began to heave with slightly labored breaths.
Stephanie swallowed roughly, narrowing her eyes and feeling her own breathing start to kick up as her heartbeat quickened. His hands weren't content to stay gripping her arms, and once their bodies were separated only by their clothes, his hands strayed down to her hips, grasping them. "You heard me," she answered, tilting her head back slightly and trying to keep her cocky smirk in place.
"I'll give you exactly what you deserve," he growled, licking his lips as he slid his hands around to her ass, cupping it and using his grasp to lift her body slightly. His lips crushed against hers, and she tilted into the kiss, clamping a hand tightly around his neck and using it for leverage as her tongue sought entrance to his mouth. He parted his lips and accepted her tongue, sucking on it greedily as his hands kneaded her ass.
She snaked her other hand around his waist, sliding it along his back and moaning against his mouth as his tongue parted from hers long enough to insinuate itself into her mouth, lapping against every surface it could find. She slid her hips purposefully over the bulge in his jeans, rewarded with a low moan as he pulled his tongue from her mouth with a small slurp.
"You deserve to be treated like a little slut," he murmured as he drug his lips across her jaw, stopping to deliver his words directly into her ear.
She shivered and grinned, pulling his head down to capture his lower lip with her teeth, tugging lightly at it. "Then do it," she said throatily, her words sounding more like a challenge than an offer.
His tongue darted out and lapped at her lower lip before removing one hand from the curve of her ass, wiping the few folders and papers from her desk and onto the floor. He lifted her easily, setting her on the desk and returning his tongue to her mouth.
As they kissed, Stephanie feverishly started to remove his shirt, her fingers flying over each button until the shirt was hanging open, exposing his chest and stomach to her hungry fingers. She slid her hand along his skin as the fingers of her other hand traveled south to his pants.
With a groan, he pressed closer, spreading her legs to settle against the desk. He broke from her mouth and shimmied out of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor. Settling his hands back on her hips, he lifted her slightly so he could push up her dress, letting it ride up to her waist before setting her back down. He caught her lips with his again, sliding his hand between her legs and stroking the inside of her thighs before teasing the damp silk crotch of her panties.
She moaned at the contact, delving her tongue into his mouth as his fingers pushed aside her panties and stroked along her slit. "Dripping already, you dirty little thing," he grunted as their lips broke apart. "I'm surprised you even bothered to wear underwear."
Irritation swelled through her and for a split second, she remembered exactly why she hated him so much. Before she could come back with a biting retort, he was pulling the dress from her body, discarding it along with his shirt. He lowered his head to her neck, lips and tongue sliding down her throat and chest, trailing down to the cleavage created by her bra.
She let her hands fall limply to her sides as his tongue sucked at the side of her breast. His hands slid around her back, undoing the clasp and pulling the straps from her shoulders, the arousal in his eyes growing as her breasts swung free. Tossing the bra aside, he steadied himself against the desk as he lowered his head to one breast, sucking it with a gentleness she hadn't expected.
His mouth settled over her nipple, tongue swirling around it until it was aching with its hardness. He moved to the other one when he was satisfied, repeating the process until she was arching against his mouth, her clit throbbing with arousal.
"So fucking hot ..." he murmured as he kicked off his shoes so he could slide his pants down and off.
She couldn't seem to get any words out, so she settled for a low moan as he worked her panties off her body. His hands slid along the inside of her thighs before he dipped a finger inside of her, kissing her almost savagely as his finger stroked her inner walls.
Their tongues clashed fiercely, and Stephanie growled triumphantly as her hand found his cock, eliciting a moaned curse from him. "You bitch."
Breaking away from his mouth, Stephanie shifted against the finger inside of her. "I thought I was a slut," she taunted, giving his erection a light squeeze. "Are you going to treat me like a slut with this or just your finger?"
His finger withdrew from her and before she knew what he was doing, he climbed on top of her, knocking her back against the desk. "Do you ever shut the fuck up?" he hissed, pressing his stomach against hers, his cock brushing against her thighs.
She sneered and wrapped both arms around his back, digging her nails roughly into his flesh. "Do you ever actually use your dick?"
Crushing his mouth against hers, Eric knocked her legs apart further so he could settle between them completely. Stephanie moaned and arched against him, lifting her head to accept more of his probing tongue. She was light-headed from lust, his smell gradually making her dizzier until everything in the room except him looked hazy. His mouth was hot on her skin as it slid down her neck, sucking and biting until the skin was satisfyingly purple.
His cock brushed against her opening as he steadied both hands on either side of her, grateful that the desk was wide. His lips trailed up her neck, sucking her earlobe into his mouth before murmuring, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."
A smartass retort was about to leave her lips when he took the first step of making good on his promise. He bit her shoulder as he thrust cleanly into her, sheathing himself to the hilt in her silky wetness. She arched sharply against him, molding her breasts to his chest with a cry of surprise and pleasure. He took the opportunity to slip an arm around her waist, securing her tightly against his body.
"So hot," he murmured, pulling out slowly and quickly slamming back in.
She moaned incoherently, screwing her eyes shut and raising to meet his hips as he found a steady rhythm. It felt like every nerve ending in her body was being stimulated as he slammed into her. Their bodies were almost completely pressed together, making her feel like he was coating every inch of her heated flesh. His breath was hitting her neck in hot, erratic bursts, and she struggled to catch a gasp of air. She felt dirty and giddy. Steady and rattled. Weak and empowered all in the same instant.
He opened his eyes to look at her, his face so filled with lust and passion that she felt a fresh surge of pleasure spark through her. She tilted her head back and moaned, rocking her hips against him and curling her legs around his waist for leverage. She thrust against him in time with each of her pants, her hands sliding erratically over his back and down the swell of his ass.
With a sharp intake of breath, he began to grind into her, angling his cock so that he could take her even deeper. "That's it. Scream for me ..." he growled, sucking the base of her throat as he continued his new pace of thrusts.
Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Stephanie felt herself implode with heat and pleasure, clenching her hips against his sides. She surged forward, gasping into his shoulder as her body was wracked with forceful shudders. Her head dropped back against the desk, moistening her lips as her breath huffed between them. "Ohh ..." she murmured, her inner muscles continuing the clench around his cock as she rode out her orgasm. He let out an unintelligible series of moans and curses, bucking his hips frantically against her a few more times as he spilled his seed inside of her with his release.
He finally stilled except for the heaving of his chest as he struggled to draw in a deep breath. Wrapping his fingers loosely around her hair, he kissed her quickly as he withdrew himself from her. A lazy smile crossed her face as she looked up at him, his face flushed with desire and a thin sheen of sweat beading his hairline.
"Now that was a fuck," he said breathlessly, steadying himself on the desk with his hands as he slid down her body to plant his feet on the floor.
Stephanie pushed herself up on her elbows as his body left hers. "Sure as hell was."
"Remind me to thank the rest of the locker room for loosening you up," he smirked as he retrieved her panties from the floor.
Scowling, Stephanie slid off the desk and snatched the panties from him. "Fuck you."
Returning the superior smirk she'd offered him earlier, Eric shook out his jeans as he slid into them. "Just did, Princess."
"If you had any idea how much I hate you ..." she seethed, dressing hurriedly.
He chuckled low in his throat, buttoning the last button of his shirt and doing his best to tame his disheveled hair. "Then you'd have half an idea of how much I hate you," he threw back. "Just remember, Princess, that you didn't seem to hate me when I was fucking you through the desk."
With another smirk, he captured her lips again quickly before sauntering to the door. He pulled it open and stepped into the doorway, turning and flashing her a brilliant smile. "I'll be seeing you soon," he said, complete with a cheesy point.
Tossing her hair over her shoulder and licking her lips, she smiled seductively. "You're damn straight."
He winked with a faint laugh, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Stephanie sighed shakily once he was out of sight, smoothing down her dress and bending to pick up the objects he'd knocked from the desk. She caught her reflection in the mirror as she rose to full height, and she turned to look at herself. Surprised, she set the folder on the desk and stepped closer, smiling at her image.
Happy, she decided. Flushed and unstrung, but definitely happy. She shook her head with a slow smile and regarded her reflection with an incredulous expression. "I gotta get a grip."
END
The way he licked his lips and touched my hips
I knew that he was slick
You make me sick
I want you and I'm hating it
Got me lit like a candlestick
I get too hot when you touch tip
I'm feeling it
I gotta get a grip
And it's driving me crazy
Baby don't you quit
Can't get enough of it
You got me going again
Baby you got me going again
You make me sick - ("You Make Me Sick" by Pink)