Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except my own characters, so don't sue. You wouldn't get anything. And I mean NOTHING.
Chapter One
"Holy cow, Camille. Look at that." Rusti nudged her friend on the shoulder, her eyes glued to the beautiful specimen of masculinity that was coming down the aisle.
The show had already started and he looked in a rush. Rusti watched with growing nervousness as he moved closer.
"I think he's coming over here," Camille said, before turning her eyes to the gargantuan in the ring.
Her stomach did a back flip when he sat one seat over from her.
"Doesn't he look familiar, Cam?"
Her eyes were glued to the ring. "Batista?" she inquired, referring to the wrestler in the ring.
"Never mind," Rusti muttered, sneaking a glance over at him.
He wore a suede fringe jacket over a white t-shirt, his defined chest and flat stomach visible, jeans on his long, long legs and a pair of snake-skin cowboy boots. Something was nagging at the back of her mind. She could almost picture him in a pair of colorfully decorated wrestling trunks and wrestling boots with fringes that hung from the top to the floor.
He must've sensed he was being watched as his head turned and he looked right at her. He gave her a friendly smile.
She gasped, barely getting her jaw to stop gaping. "Cam, I know him."
His face was bare, but she knew, at one time he wore a mask, painted on, and decorated in various colors that came over the top of his nose and down his cheeks, almost to his chin. Bare-chested with three colored ropes tied around his thick upper arms and the long tails left to dangle.
"The Warrior." She slapped a hand over mouth, praying he didn't hear her.
He was watching the show in silence despite the shouting and cheering from the crowd and he managed to catch her staring again.
She paid no mind to the man sitting between them until he leaned over to speak to him. Rusti forced her eyes to stare straight ahead as they traded seats.
A soft chuckle brought goosebumps to her skin. "You recognize me," he stated matter-of-factly.
Good heavens, his voice was bottomless deep and rumbly, creating an earthquake in the sensitive areas of her body.
She bit her lip in nervousness and gave a shy smile. "Yeah."
He held out his hand. "I'm James."
She shook it, almost jerking at the sparks that showered her where they touched. "Rusti."
He grinned at her and she almost liquefied in her seat.
Something that sexy should have a warning sticker on it. Side-effects include hot kisses and multiple-orgasms.
"What brings you to a WWE show?"
She pointed to the woman to her right, ensconced in the match in the center of the arena. "My friend, Camille. I'm not much for RAW. Makes me wish Nitro was still on. How about you?"
With another devastating grin, he pointed to his left. "My friend, Steve."
For the first time, she looked where he was pointing. The only thing missing was black tights, a long black duster, and white face paint with black lips.
"That's Sti-"
He held his index finger over his lips to signify silence.
She ducked her head a little. "Sorry," she said quietly.
Camille would flip if she could tear he eyes away from the half naked men fighting. Rusti figured she would spring it on her later.
"Are you busy after the show?"
She had to keep herself from shouting a big, resounding, 'NO!' Instead she gave a smile and shook her head.
She and Camille came to Arizona to a conference for their boss. The evil old troll had got his jollies by trying to sleep with her and both she and Camille had walked out. Unfortunately, the two of them were stuck there until Camille's sister, Hilary, wired them the money to get home on. She was told it could take up to a week.
Luckily for them, Camille had brought her tickets to RAW, planning to see the show after work.
"If your not busy, would you like to go somewhere and have a drink after?"
Oh, the indecision. She couldn't just desert Camille. It wouldn't be right.
He seemed to sense this. "Bring your friend and I'll get Steve to come along."
"Okay." Camille was going, if Rusti had to twist her arm to make sure.
They finished watching the show, chatting about the various wrestlers and the difference between RAW and Nitro.
Afterwards, the two men left, with James agreeing to meet her at the entrance.
"You really didn't see much of the show," Camille remarked with a grin. "Who was that hottie you were talking to the whole time."
She was going to try to break this to her without having her scream their names in the middle of the quickly emptying arena and blow their cover. "His name is James Hellwig and he and his friend, Steve Borden, invited us out for a drink." She waited to see if the younger woman would catch on.
Camille frowned. "That sound so familiar. Steve Borden… Wasn't that the name of-" She gasped loudly. "You don't mean-"
"Shh! Yes, I do."
Camille started to shriek but Rusti clapped a hand over her mouth before any sound could come out.
"Listen carefully to me. We're going to go have a drink with the Ultimate Warrior and Sting, and you are not, I REPEAT, NOT going to act like a crazed fan. Am I understood?"
With wide eyes, Camille nodded and Rusti removed her hand.
"Whoo, you got a little weird on me, girl."
Rusti shrugged it off and grabbed her jacket. "I know you too well, Camille Deveaux. You would've walked straight up to the man, screamed his name like a little girl, and tackled him to the ground, thus putting the whole arena in an uproar."
She headed to the stairs and toward the exit, with Camille close behind.
She spotted James, looking mouth-watering as he tried not to look conspicuous, with the brim of his baseball cap pulled low.
She was smiling when he greeted her.
"James, Steve, this is my friend Camille."
Camille looked about ready to faint and Rusti nudged her hard. She quickly shook both of their hands, looking up at them in awe.
Rusti and James talked over the details, agreeing to meet at the decided pub in an hour.
Rusti practically had to drag her friend to the car and then she continued to stare through her mirror.