Title: Endless Love
Author: Crimson Coin CrimsonCoinyahoo.com
Rating: PG 15 and higher at some points. Warning: Language.
Summery: The sequel to "Unstoppable". Will Chris Jericho and Trish Stratus's love truly be able to last?
Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any of the affiliated wrestlers.
Timeline: From March 22, 2004 and all said dates.
Archiving: Ask me first.
May 24, 2004
Chris Jericho clenched his teeth, squinting his eyes as he forced them open. A slight moan slipped from his lips.
"Hey, Chris? Chris. Steady, buddy. Easy. Just don't move."
He didn't recognize the voice and yet, didn't care. He shifted his weight only to be greeted by resistance. A hard board to his back, straps across his waist and arms, his neck immobilized.
"No," Jericho groaned, squirming against the restraints. "No, let me go. Let me up."
"You are in no condition to stand of your own will."
"I AM in the condition." Jericho shouted, rocking himself on the board to the point where the trainers almost dropped him. "Let me up." He tugged hard on his wrist restraints, one tie snapping with his force and cutting into his skin in the process.
The trainers quickly put the board down.
"Take this off." Chris demanded. "Take it all off. I can walk on my damn own."
The trainers struggled with him, trying their best to keep him still. "Chris, listen. You really shouldn't be ..."
"I'll tell you what shouldn't be." Chris snapped back. "You assclowns restraining me when I'm perfectly capable of walking on my fucking own. THAT'S what shouldn't be!"
Despite constant provoking and calming words, Chris wouldn't listen and eventually the trainers released him. The head trainer placed his large hand on Chris's shoulder. "The minute you feel something wrong ... see me. I mean that."
Chris nodded. "Yeah, sure." Wasting no more time, he staggered down the hall. There was someplace he had to be. Around corners and through the darkest areas, he finally turned the last bend.
He stopped.
His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared as he let out a puffing breath. He could see them ... hear them. He just had to wait for his turn.
Trish Stratus sighed, placing her tiny hands on the bulging forearms of Tyson Tomko. "I swear, Sweetie. I'm going to be just fine. You go out with Chuck and the guys."
Tyson cocked his head. "I just heard that Eric wants the whole roster to meet in the big locker room down the hall. Are you sure you'll be ok?"
Trish nodded, smiling sweetly. "I swear it. There's no need to worry. I'm just going to gather my things and head back to the hotel. I'm going to call it an early night."
"Ok," Tyson said with a smile of his own and he squeezed her smaller hand in his. "But you know where to reach me if anything's wrong. Christian would have my head if anything happened to you."
"He's good to me like that." Trish answered. "Now go on. Get outta here and enjoy the night. We got a lot of traveling up coming with the European Tour."
Tyson nodded, turning from her and taking his leave.
Trish watched the big man's retreating form for a few moments before bowing her head, walking into her locker room.
Chris moved quickly from his hiding place, catching the door before it swung close. He slammed it shut, turning the dead bolt lock. "What in the ..." But he let out a whimpered moan, reaching up to cup the back of his neck.
Trish spun quickly, gasping at the sight of him. "Chris, I ..." she reached out but quickly withdrew her hand, stepping further back from him as she ducked her head.
He let out a frustrated sigh, keeping his head bowed as he glared at her with half-lidded eyes. "Is this the thanks I get?" He gruffly growled. "Is this the gratitude you have to show me for what I did for you last week."
She nervously licked her lips, her eyes unwavering from his angered gaze.
"Please, tell me that you calling for help wasn't just some sick joke." He snarled. "And you were just using it as a come on for him. You know, cuz if it was ... then you're a real bitch."
Trish closed her eyes at those words, swallowing the pain their utterance inflicted.
"No, you know what Trish?" He hands dropped to his sides, his body straight as he looked at her though his eyes glistened with tears ... or was it pain from that powerbomb. "I was just stretching in my locker room ... getting ready to get dressed to go home and I hear your voice calling for help."
Chris shook his head, laughing. "God knows, it coulda been a trap but I didn't care. I had to help you. I had to. And I went out there and I tore that fucking bastard limb from limb until he was pissing his pants. And you know why I did that? You know why I did that, Trish?"
Trish shook her head.
He narrowed his eyes, ducking his head closer to her. "It's because I'm still in fucking love with you, woman." He snarled in a deep husk. "It's because I couldn't listen to that fear in the voice of the woman I love and ..."
Chris's eyes widened as his words were cut off by her lips. He didn't know what to do, how to react. She was kissing him. Trish Stratus was kissing him and he didn't know what to do. His body stiffened.
Trish didn't care. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips dutifully wrapping around his as she licked and lapped at his lips until he was trembling and soon thrust her tongue into his mouth.
Chris wanted to collapse. Lord, her kiss. It had been so long since he felt her kiss. He let his eyes close as he turned his head, leaning into her a bit. The action only spurred her and Trish hugged him closer, kissing him even harder as she lifted onto her toes.
A low rumble vibrated deep within his throat and Chris band his arms around her, splaying his hands across her back. Pulling her closer, her couldn't resist. He intensified the kiss, driving it more passionately, harsher and deeper as he tried to lick and suck at every inch of her mouth. He didn't want to break it, he didn't want it to end. It was a dream. Sweeter than a dream. He'd dreamt of her kiss every night for the last seven months and finally she was kissing him.
She broke the kiss aggressively, their lips snapping apart and Chris opened her eyes. He groaned at the sight. The passion, the need, the darkness in her beautiful eyes. It was the same look she'd shown him out on that stage before Tomko put him through the table. He couldn't identify the look out there but in here, with her so close and in his arms ... he could tell. It was desire. She desired him. She yearned for him.
Trish licked her red kiss-swollen lips, her eyes unwavering from his as she cupped the front of his pants. He growled at her, bearing his teeth in an animalistic display of lust. She rubbed him forcefully then ran her hands up over his abs before slipping them down the front of his tights.
Groaning his need, Chris couldn't resist. Grabbing her waist, he lifted her with ease, clearing the expanse of the locker room in three strides as he slammed her against the lockers, pinning her with his body. Her legs wrapped around his waist as their mouths crushed together, both equal in their eagerness.
Edge smiled, leaning back on the couch in his locker room. "I'm glad you're here, you know."
Jeff chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you appear to be the only one. I don't have anyone here anymore anyway. So it doesn't really matter."
"Don't say that, Jeff." Stacy said, softly. "You can be here for me and Edge and your brother and Lita."
"Ha!" Jeff laughed. "Oh please. My brother and Lita? They knew I was here and where'd they go? Where'd they go, huh? They don't care about me. It's just like it always was now all over again. Matt and Lita with Jeff tagging along. This is why I don't want to come back. Because not only am I just Matt's little brother. Now I'm Matt's drug addicted tag along little brother that don't belong anymore."
"Oh, Jeff you didn't." Stacy sighed. "You went back to the drugs? You've been doing so good."
"I can't help it." Jeff argued, throwing his hands in the air. "I ... I've had my reasons."
Edge stretched his back, placing an arm over the back cushion of the couch. "Just because the woman you love don't love you that way is no reason to go fucking around with drugs."
"I know," Jeff answered, plopping down in the opposite couch and with a groan he leaned to the side, his head hitting the cushion as his rainbow hair fanned out across the green upholstery. "And it's not an excuse and I'm not trying to make excuses."
Stacy smiled. "You really are the cutest man."
Jeff's brow rose, though from his angle, his eyebrows buried into the cushion. "Why is that? Anyway, aren't you supposed to think your little boy toy is the cutest thing in the world?"
Stacy blushed and Edge chuckled. "Nah. We're not dating. I'm not her boy toy."
Jeff smiled. "Suuuure, you aren't."
"Shut up, man." Edge demanded though his voice held little conviction since he laughed. "We are not an item so stop teasing. We just chill a lot."
"Like the way you're chilling now?" Jeff asked. "You know with your arm around her shoulder."
The couple quickly pushed apart and Jeff's laughter filled the room. "Ah, God damn. I really wish things weren't so messed up." He shook his head, the room falling quiet with his pause. "I miss Trish. God, why did she have to go and ... why'd she do it, Edge?"
Edge and Stacy shared a knowing glance before returning their attention to the youngest Hardy. Edge sighed. "Look, Jeff. I ... I'm not so sure you should be passing judgment on her. I mean, there's a lot you don't know. Hell, there's a lot we don't know."
"Pass judgment?" Jeff inquired, sitting straight. "You've seen what she's been doing these last few weeks."
"There's so much more." Stacy defended, quickly. "You don't know. I mean ... this whole thing is so terrible and it's not fair. It ... it's not fair."
"Shhh," Edge hushed, running a gentle hand along Stacy's arm. "It's ok, Hun. Just breathe."
Jeff furrowed his brow. "What ... what's going on?"
Chris collapsed, falling heavily against Trish's body, his full weight against her as he kept her pinned against the lockers. His breathing ragged, his heart racing, he licked his lips, burying his head in the crook of her neck. She was in the same condition, glistening with sweat, her body still twitching with the rocking aftereffects of orgasm.
He swallowed hard, nuzzling her throat a moment before stilling, trying to regain his breath. He rocked his hips slowly, pressing himself further into her just so she knew he was still there and still very much aware. She let out a little whimper and then tightened her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Chris pursed his lips, kissing her neck sweetly, affectionately. Keeping his actions slow and sincere, he kissed up her throat, higher and higher. Over her jaw and along her cheek, he sealed their lips, twining his tongue into her mouth to tangle passionately yet affectionately with hers.
Constant, insistently loving, he kissed her as deeply and slowly as he could before his breath ran out and he breathed the sweet air from her lungs before pulling back. He trailed his lips along her cheek, nose, then finally back to her ear where he placed a long wet kiss.
Trish shuddered in his arms, tightening her own arms around his neck, holding him in place.
"Trish," he breathed into her ear. "Trish, did you ever sleep with Christian?"
She shook her head.
"Tomko?"
She shook her head again.
Chris closed his eyes.
Trish licked her lips, trembling in his arms. "You slept with Lita." She said softly, but harshly.
"It was the biggest mistake of my life. Right next to letting you go. Oh God, Trish, why did I let you go? I ... I shoulda ... please, you've got to talk to me."
But again, she shook her head. "Put me down." She commanded in a quiet voice and he reluctantly obeyed.
His eyes remained drawn and sad as he tucked himself back into his tights. His eyes never left her naked form as she gathered her clothes, quickly pulling them on. She raked her fingers through her hair, straightening it best she could.
"Trish," he breathed.
Again, she viciously shook her head. "No ... No, this was bad. This ... This was a mistake. I didn't mean ..."
He stepped forward quickly, grabbing her arm and turning her to face him. "Don't you say it," he cracked out. "Because it's not true. The way you kissed me and touched me ... don't you say that you didn't mean it or it was a mistake cuz that's not true."
"Chris, I ..."
"Look me in the eye then," he demanded. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me. That you didn't want to be with me like that."
Trish closed her eyes, the tears coming. She was cornered, trapped. And she knew she couldn't get out.
"Look at me."
She forced her eyes open, locking on his. "You know I can't do that so why would you even ask me to?"
Chris smiled, his lips curling upward in greatest fulfillment. "So if you love me ... then you can be with me."
"No," Trish said, forcefully, stepping away from him. "I ... I can't. You ... you don't understand. This was a mistake. This ..."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was!" she yelled. "God damn it, Chris, I didn't want our first time to be like this. Like two sex crazed teenagers getting it on in the gym locker room, cutting class to get some ass. I didn't want it to be like that and ..."
"But it wasn't." Chris answered. "It wasn't like that at all. I mean, it ... it wasn't just about sex to me. I ... I felt such passion and need and ... and I love you. I ... I still made love to you in the most primal way. Please, don't regret ... don't."
"Don't," She said, reaching up and placing her fingers over his lips, silencing him. "Just stop. I ... I can't love you, Chris. I can't. There's ... there's so much between us and it's not ... it just can't happen. We have to pretend this didn't happen and I'm going to ... I'm going to attack you again. I'm going to make your life a living hell. That's what I have to do."
"No, you don't." Chris said. "Please, you really don't. I'll protect you. You can be with me and we can be happy and ... and you can stop having your lackeys put me through tables. God, that fucking hurt." He slouched a bit, a hand on his lower back before laughing at himself. "I guess I didn't realize what an exertion we had."
Trish shook her head, shoving him back by the chest. "Stop it. Just stop being so nice! I will get you to fucking hate me, Chris Jericho, if it's the last thing I do." She recoiled, whipping her hand back and then slapping him hard across the face.
His head flew back, his cheek stinging from the impact as he brought a hand up, cupping the red mark she left, as his eyes grew wide and confused. "Trish?"
"Hate me!" she demanded, slamming her fists into his chest and the tears poured down her face. "Hate me, God damn you, hate me!"
He caught her wrist, holding her hands against his chest as his finger reached out, tilting up her chin. "I can't."
Trish shook her head. "We ... we can't do this, Chris. I ... I have to hurt you. We can't be together because Tyson and ... and Bischoff and I have to keep them after you and I have to be this way."
"No, you don't."
"I do!" she insisted with a stomp of the foot. "We can't be together because I have to hurt you."
Chris threw his hands in the air. "Beat me, slap me, kick me, bruise me, bleed me ... I don't fucking care as long as you sleep in my arms at night."
Trish closed her eyes, turning her back on him as she ducked her face into her hands, the cries finally taking control of her body.
"Baby," he cooed, stepping to her and taking her in his arms. She resisted. "Shhh, Darlin. Shhh, Baby." He hushed her and she stilled, caving into the relaxing touch he offered. "Shhh, oh Baby. What is it? Why can't we be together? If you didn't sleep with Christian and you've done nothing ... why are you acting this way? What happened?"
"I can't tell you," she whispered, hiding in his chest.
"Yes, you can." He said, cupping her face and wiping the tears from her cheeks.
Trish shook her head then reached up, brushing the stray fibers of blonde hair away from his eyes. "Bischoff ... he ... you'll have a match against Tyson. I don't know when but I heard Bischoff talking about it. I ... I already asked Tyson to take it easy on you. I ... He thinks I want you to still be able to walk every week that way we can continue but, Good Lord, I don't want him to hurt you."
"Then be by my side," he whispered. "Then nothing they do will hurt me."
"Stop it." She snapped. "Just stop it already. It doesn't matter. Look, Chris, we can never see each other again. You ... you are going to hate me. I'm going to make you hate me and you're going to move on and you're going to find a wonderful girl who deserves you and you're going to get married and have loads of children and forget all about me and this whole stupid little thing."
"Is that all this is to you? Some stupid little ... thing?" His voice rang with malice and betrayal.
Trish swallowed her nerve, knowing what she had to do to get him away. She'd made a fatal mistake this evening. She'd already told him too much. "Yes. That's all this is."
"Liar." He snarled. "You liar. Stop lying. What did Christian do to you? Did he ..."
"Christian did nothing." She defended quickly. "He's done nothing but be sweet and caring with me. He's all that I have left."
"You could have me," he responded, jealousy and sarcasm lacing his tone. "What, am I not enough?"
Trish shook her head. "Jesus Christ, you're more than enough, Chris. But that's not it. I can't tell you, Ok. I ... I shouldn't even have said this much. Good Lord, God only knows what's going to happen now. I ... I have to leave." She pushed away from him, shouldering her duffel bag and walking to the door.
Chris caught her by the arm, turning her to face him. "I'm not giving up on you, Trish Stratus." He pledged, his eyes blazing with emotions. "I've tasted too much. I know too much and I love you too God damned much." He leaned down, taking her lips preciously with his. "I'll get to the bottom of this."
Trish closed her eyes a moment, gathering her courage before taking a step out of his grasp. "It's over, Chris. This was one final time. The moment I walk out of here ... I will act as if this didn't happen. And as far as I'm concerned ... this didn't happen. Goodbye. Find yourself ..." she swallowed. "Find yourself another girl. One who wants you the same way you want her. You were a good fuck, Jericho." That sexy sly smile spread onto her face and she did her best to make sure it didn't look forced. "I'm glad I added you to my list. You know, since ... well since Christian isn't here to keep me busy."
Her heart broke as the rejection slammed itself onto his face and she quickly turned, running out the door. She had to get away. The tears sprung to her eyes and she just had to get away. She ...
Trish gasped as a rough hand grabbed her arm and soon she found herself spun against the familiar hard chest, those crystal blue eyes staring holes through her. He didn't wait for her to react but simply crushed his mouth to hers in the most forceful passionate kiss he could manage.
His mouth audibly breaking away from hers, he held her eye contact. "And still ... the way you kiss me says otherwise."
Trish swallowed hard, a shaky hand coming up to her lips as she could feel his lingering moisture. Tears fell from her eyes as he walked away from her, his hands clutching his back and neck with each painful step. Oh, how she yearned to run to him, wrap him in his arms and apologize. To just hold him and let him hold her.
Turning quickly, she rushed in the opposite direction. She didn't want to admit it. She couldn't admit her true feelings for their passionate encounter. If she did, it would tear her apart with the knowledge that yet again she let the love of her life walk away. And all because of that stupid tape that Eric had. God, how had he gotten his hands on it.
Turning another corner, Trish wiped the tears from her eyes. And Chris. Poor Chris. He had no idea. He had no idea who she was and what he'd just done with her. He'd probably be sickened if he ever found out. But still, she couldn't get him out of her mind. His hands, his body, his mouth, Sweet Lord, his mouth. The way he kissed her sent sensations through her body that she'd never felt. The way his lips and his tongue would circle in her mouth and then along her neck and chest and shoulders before returning to her mouth again. She didn't want him to stop.
It was love making. She knew it. She knew it the moment they began. The way he treated her, held her and entered her. The way he moved, the way he whispered sweet whispers of nothing in her ear as he rocked sensation after pleasurable sensation from her body. Just thinking of how beautiful the experience, she wanted to run back to him and kiss him again. To kiss him and kiss him until he responded with as much vigor and need that he would make love to her all over again.
Trish shook her head, barging into the locker room. "Stacy." She cried, weak in the knees and she looked around the room, her eyes widening at the sight. "Jeff?"
Stacy and Edge jumped, their eyes locking on the blonde. "Trish?"
Jeff Hardy stood slowly, walking to her at a steady pace. His eyes remained cold until he stood only one step in front of her. His pale green eyes instantly softened and he opened his arms, gathering her into them and against his chest with his hug.
Trish collapsed, the comforting feeling that she'd yearned for so long finally returning to the most infinitesimal degree. She could feel his friendship, his compassion. She could feel her Jeff again.
"Shhh," he hushed her.
"Jeff," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "Jeff, I ... I'm so lost."
"Shhh," he silenced her, kissing her forehead lightly before pressing his cheek to the top of her head. "It'll be alright. Just tell me what happened."
Trish sniffled. How in the hell could she ever tell her friends what had just happened?
(So ends another chapter ... so are the days of our wrestling. I'm still planning on continuing but as always it depends on reviews. I write because I know people read. So let me know you're reading. )
Author: Crimson Coin CrimsonCoinyahoo.com
Rating: PG 15 and higher at some points. Warning: Language.
Summery: The sequel to "Unstoppable". Will Chris Jericho and Trish Stratus's love truly be able to last?
Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any of the affiliated wrestlers.
Timeline: From March 22, 2004 and all said dates.
Archiving: Ask me first.
May 24, 2004
Chris Jericho clenched his teeth, squinting his eyes as he forced them open. A slight moan slipped from his lips.
"Hey, Chris? Chris. Steady, buddy. Easy. Just don't move."
He didn't recognize the voice and yet, didn't care. He shifted his weight only to be greeted by resistance. A hard board to his back, straps across his waist and arms, his neck immobilized.
"No," Jericho groaned, squirming against the restraints. "No, let me go. Let me up."
"You are in no condition to stand of your own will."
"I AM in the condition." Jericho shouted, rocking himself on the board to the point where the trainers almost dropped him. "Let me up." He tugged hard on his wrist restraints, one tie snapping with his force and cutting into his skin in the process.
The trainers quickly put the board down.
"Take this off." Chris demanded. "Take it all off. I can walk on my damn own."
The trainers struggled with him, trying their best to keep him still. "Chris, listen. You really shouldn't be ..."
"I'll tell you what shouldn't be." Chris snapped back. "You assclowns restraining me when I'm perfectly capable of walking on my fucking own. THAT'S what shouldn't be!"
Despite constant provoking and calming words, Chris wouldn't listen and eventually the trainers released him. The head trainer placed his large hand on Chris's shoulder. "The minute you feel something wrong ... see me. I mean that."
Chris nodded. "Yeah, sure." Wasting no more time, he staggered down the hall. There was someplace he had to be. Around corners and through the darkest areas, he finally turned the last bend.
He stopped.
His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared as he let out a puffing breath. He could see them ... hear them. He just had to wait for his turn.
Trish Stratus sighed, placing her tiny hands on the bulging forearms of Tyson Tomko. "I swear, Sweetie. I'm going to be just fine. You go out with Chuck and the guys."
Tyson cocked his head. "I just heard that Eric wants the whole roster to meet in the big locker room down the hall. Are you sure you'll be ok?"
Trish nodded, smiling sweetly. "I swear it. There's no need to worry. I'm just going to gather my things and head back to the hotel. I'm going to call it an early night."
"Ok," Tyson said with a smile of his own and he squeezed her smaller hand in his. "But you know where to reach me if anything's wrong. Christian would have my head if anything happened to you."
"He's good to me like that." Trish answered. "Now go on. Get outta here and enjoy the night. We got a lot of traveling up coming with the European Tour."
Tyson nodded, turning from her and taking his leave.
Trish watched the big man's retreating form for a few moments before bowing her head, walking into her locker room.
Chris moved quickly from his hiding place, catching the door before it swung close. He slammed it shut, turning the dead bolt lock. "What in the ..." But he let out a whimpered moan, reaching up to cup the back of his neck.
Trish spun quickly, gasping at the sight of him. "Chris, I ..." she reached out but quickly withdrew her hand, stepping further back from him as she ducked her head.
He let out a frustrated sigh, keeping his head bowed as he glared at her with half-lidded eyes. "Is this the thanks I get?" He gruffly growled. "Is this the gratitude you have to show me for what I did for you last week."
She nervously licked her lips, her eyes unwavering from his angered gaze.
"Please, tell me that you calling for help wasn't just some sick joke." He snarled. "And you were just using it as a come on for him. You know, cuz if it was ... then you're a real bitch."
Trish closed her eyes at those words, swallowing the pain their utterance inflicted.
"No, you know what Trish?" He hands dropped to his sides, his body straight as he looked at her though his eyes glistened with tears ... or was it pain from that powerbomb. "I was just stretching in my locker room ... getting ready to get dressed to go home and I hear your voice calling for help."
Chris shook his head, laughing. "God knows, it coulda been a trap but I didn't care. I had to help you. I had to. And I went out there and I tore that fucking bastard limb from limb until he was pissing his pants. And you know why I did that? You know why I did that, Trish?"
Trish shook her head.
He narrowed his eyes, ducking his head closer to her. "It's because I'm still in fucking love with you, woman." He snarled in a deep husk. "It's because I couldn't listen to that fear in the voice of the woman I love and ..."
Chris's eyes widened as his words were cut off by her lips. He didn't know what to do, how to react. She was kissing him. Trish Stratus was kissing him and he didn't know what to do. His body stiffened.
Trish didn't care. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips dutifully wrapping around his as she licked and lapped at his lips until he was trembling and soon thrust her tongue into his mouth.
Chris wanted to collapse. Lord, her kiss. It had been so long since he felt her kiss. He let his eyes close as he turned his head, leaning into her a bit. The action only spurred her and Trish hugged him closer, kissing him even harder as she lifted onto her toes.
A low rumble vibrated deep within his throat and Chris band his arms around her, splaying his hands across her back. Pulling her closer, her couldn't resist. He intensified the kiss, driving it more passionately, harsher and deeper as he tried to lick and suck at every inch of her mouth. He didn't want to break it, he didn't want it to end. It was a dream. Sweeter than a dream. He'd dreamt of her kiss every night for the last seven months and finally she was kissing him.
She broke the kiss aggressively, their lips snapping apart and Chris opened her eyes. He groaned at the sight. The passion, the need, the darkness in her beautiful eyes. It was the same look she'd shown him out on that stage before Tomko put him through the table. He couldn't identify the look out there but in here, with her so close and in his arms ... he could tell. It was desire. She desired him. She yearned for him.
Trish licked her red kiss-swollen lips, her eyes unwavering from his as she cupped the front of his pants. He growled at her, bearing his teeth in an animalistic display of lust. She rubbed him forcefully then ran her hands up over his abs before slipping them down the front of his tights.
Groaning his need, Chris couldn't resist. Grabbing her waist, he lifted her with ease, clearing the expanse of the locker room in three strides as he slammed her against the lockers, pinning her with his body. Her legs wrapped around his waist as their mouths crushed together, both equal in their eagerness.
Edge smiled, leaning back on the couch in his locker room. "I'm glad you're here, you know."
Jeff chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you appear to be the only one. I don't have anyone here anymore anyway. So it doesn't really matter."
"Don't say that, Jeff." Stacy said, softly. "You can be here for me and Edge and your brother and Lita."
"Ha!" Jeff laughed. "Oh please. My brother and Lita? They knew I was here and where'd they go? Where'd they go, huh? They don't care about me. It's just like it always was now all over again. Matt and Lita with Jeff tagging along. This is why I don't want to come back. Because not only am I just Matt's little brother. Now I'm Matt's drug addicted tag along little brother that don't belong anymore."
"Oh, Jeff you didn't." Stacy sighed. "You went back to the drugs? You've been doing so good."
"I can't help it." Jeff argued, throwing his hands in the air. "I ... I've had my reasons."
Edge stretched his back, placing an arm over the back cushion of the couch. "Just because the woman you love don't love you that way is no reason to go fucking around with drugs."
"I know," Jeff answered, plopping down in the opposite couch and with a groan he leaned to the side, his head hitting the cushion as his rainbow hair fanned out across the green upholstery. "And it's not an excuse and I'm not trying to make excuses."
Stacy smiled. "You really are the cutest man."
Jeff's brow rose, though from his angle, his eyebrows buried into the cushion. "Why is that? Anyway, aren't you supposed to think your little boy toy is the cutest thing in the world?"
Stacy blushed and Edge chuckled. "Nah. We're not dating. I'm not her boy toy."
Jeff smiled. "Suuuure, you aren't."
"Shut up, man." Edge demanded though his voice held little conviction since he laughed. "We are not an item so stop teasing. We just chill a lot."
"Like the way you're chilling now?" Jeff asked. "You know with your arm around her shoulder."
The couple quickly pushed apart and Jeff's laughter filled the room. "Ah, God damn. I really wish things weren't so messed up." He shook his head, the room falling quiet with his pause. "I miss Trish. God, why did she have to go and ... why'd she do it, Edge?"
Edge and Stacy shared a knowing glance before returning their attention to the youngest Hardy. Edge sighed. "Look, Jeff. I ... I'm not so sure you should be passing judgment on her. I mean, there's a lot you don't know. Hell, there's a lot we don't know."
"Pass judgment?" Jeff inquired, sitting straight. "You've seen what she's been doing these last few weeks."
"There's so much more." Stacy defended, quickly. "You don't know. I mean ... this whole thing is so terrible and it's not fair. It ... it's not fair."
"Shhh," Edge hushed, running a gentle hand along Stacy's arm. "It's ok, Hun. Just breathe."
Jeff furrowed his brow. "What ... what's going on?"
Chris collapsed, falling heavily against Trish's body, his full weight against her as he kept her pinned against the lockers. His breathing ragged, his heart racing, he licked his lips, burying his head in the crook of her neck. She was in the same condition, glistening with sweat, her body still twitching with the rocking aftereffects of orgasm.
He swallowed hard, nuzzling her throat a moment before stilling, trying to regain his breath. He rocked his hips slowly, pressing himself further into her just so she knew he was still there and still very much aware. She let out a little whimper and then tightened her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Chris pursed his lips, kissing her neck sweetly, affectionately. Keeping his actions slow and sincere, he kissed up her throat, higher and higher. Over her jaw and along her cheek, he sealed their lips, twining his tongue into her mouth to tangle passionately yet affectionately with hers.
Constant, insistently loving, he kissed her as deeply and slowly as he could before his breath ran out and he breathed the sweet air from her lungs before pulling back. He trailed his lips along her cheek, nose, then finally back to her ear where he placed a long wet kiss.
Trish shuddered in his arms, tightening her own arms around his neck, holding him in place.
"Trish," he breathed into her ear. "Trish, did you ever sleep with Christian?"
She shook her head.
"Tomko?"
She shook her head again.
Chris closed his eyes.
Trish licked her lips, trembling in his arms. "You slept with Lita." She said softly, but harshly.
"It was the biggest mistake of my life. Right next to letting you go. Oh God, Trish, why did I let you go? I ... I shoulda ... please, you've got to talk to me."
But again, she shook her head. "Put me down." She commanded in a quiet voice and he reluctantly obeyed.
His eyes remained drawn and sad as he tucked himself back into his tights. His eyes never left her naked form as she gathered her clothes, quickly pulling them on. She raked her fingers through her hair, straightening it best she could.
"Trish," he breathed.
Again, she viciously shook her head. "No ... No, this was bad. This ... This was a mistake. I didn't mean ..."
He stepped forward quickly, grabbing her arm and turning her to face him. "Don't you say it," he cracked out. "Because it's not true. The way you kissed me and touched me ... don't you say that you didn't mean it or it was a mistake cuz that's not true."
"Chris, I ..."
"Look me in the eye then," he demanded. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me. That you didn't want to be with me like that."
Trish closed her eyes, the tears coming. She was cornered, trapped. And she knew she couldn't get out.
"Look at me."
She forced her eyes open, locking on his. "You know I can't do that so why would you even ask me to?"
Chris smiled, his lips curling upward in greatest fulfillment. "So if you love me ... then you can be with me."
"No," Trish said, forcefully, stepping away from him. "I ... I can't. You ... you don't understand. This was a mistake. This ..."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was!" she yelled. "God damn it, Chris, I didn't want our first time to be like this. Like two sex crazed teenagers getting it on in the gym locker room, cutting class to get some ass. I didn't want it to be like that and ..."
"But it wasn't." Chris answered. "It wasn't like that at all. I mean, it ... it wasn't just about sex to me. I ... I felt such passion and need and ... and I love you. I ... I still made love to you in the most primal way. Please, don't regret ... don't."
"Don't," She said, reaching up and placing her fingers over his lips, silencing him. "Just stop. I ... I can't love you, Chris. I can't. There's ... there's so much between us and it's not ... it just can't happen. We have to pretend this didn't happen and I'm going to ... I'm going to attack you again. I'm going to make your life a living hell. That's what I have to do."
"No, you don't." Chris said. "Please, you really don't. I'll protect you. You can be with me and we can be happy and ... and you can stop having your lackeys put me through tables. God, that fucking hurt." He slouched a bit, a hand on his lower back before laughing at himself. "I guess I didn't realize what an exertion we had."
Trish shook her head, shoving him back by the chest. "Stop it. Just stop being so nice! I will get you to fucking hate me, Chris Jericho, if it's the last thing I do." She recoiled, whipping her hand back and then slapping him hard across the face.
His head flew back, his cheek stinging from the impact as he brought a hand up, cupping the red mark she left, as his eyes grew wide and confused. "Trish?"
"Hate me!" she demanded, slamming her fists into his chest and the tears poured down her face. "Hate me, God damn you, hate me!"
He caught her wrist, holding her hands against his chest as his finger reached out, tilting up her chin. "I can't."
Trish shook her head. "We ... we can't do this, Chris. I ... I have to hurt you. We can't be together because Tyson and ... and Bischoff and I have to keep them after you and I have to be this way."
"No, you don't."
"I do!" she insisted with a stomp of the foot. "We can't be together because I have to hurt you."
Chris threw his hands in the air. "Beat me, slap me, kick me, bruise me, bleed me ... I don't fucking care as long as you sleep in my arms at night."
Trish closed her eyes, turning her back on him as she ducked her face into her hands, the cries finally taking control of her body.
"Baby," he cooed, stepping to her and taking her in his arms. She resisted. "Shhh, Darlin. Shhh, Baby." He hushed her and she stilled, caving into the relaxing touch he offered. "Shhh, oh Baby. What is it? Why can't we be together? If you didn't sleep with Christian and you've done nothing ... why are you acting this way? What happened?"
"I can't tell you," she whispered, hiding in his chest.
"Yes, you can." He said, cupping her face and wiping the tears from her cheeks.
Trish shook her head then reached up, brushing the stray fibers of blonde hair away from his eyes. "Bischoff ... he ... you'll have a match against Tyson. I don't know when but I heard Bischoff talking about it. I ... I already asked Tyson to take it easy on you. I ... He thinks I want you to still be able to walk every week that way we can continue but, Good Lord, I don't want him to hurt you."
"Then be by my side," he whispered. "Then nothing they do will hurt me."
"Stop it." She snapped. "Just stop it already. It doesn't matter. Look, Chris, we can never see each other again. You ... you are going to hate me. I'm going to make you hate me and you're going to move on and you're going to find a wonderful girl who deserves you and you're going to get married and have loads of children and forget all about me and this whole stupid little thing."
"Is that all this is to you? Some stupid little ... thing?" His voice rang with malice and betrayal.
Trish swallowed her nerve, knowing what she had to do to get him away. She'd made a fatal mistake this evening. She'd already told him too much. "Yes. That's all this is."
"Liar." He snarled. "You liar. Stop lying. What did Christian do to you? Did he ..."
"Christian did nothing." She defended quickly. "He's done nothing but be sweet and caring with me. He's all that I have left."
"You could have me," he responded, jealousy and sarcasm lacing his tone. "What, am I not enough?"
Trish shook her head. "Jesus Christ, you're more than enough, Chris. But that's not it. I can't tell you, Ok. I ... I shouldn't even have said this much. Good Lord, God only knows what's going to happen now. I ... I have to leave." She pushed away from him, shouldering her duffel bag and walking to the door.
Chris caught her by the arm, turning her to face him. "I'm not giving up on you, Trish Stratus." He pledged, his eyes blazing with emotions. "I've tasted too much. I know too much and I love you too God damned much." He leaned down, taking her lips preciously with his. "I'll get to the bottom of this."
Trish closed her eyes a moment, gathering her courage before taking a step out of his grasp. "It's over, Chris. This was one final time. The moment I walk out of here ... I will act as if this didn't happen. And as far as I'm concerned ... this didn't happen. Goodbye. Find yourself ..." she swallowed. "Find yourself another girl. One who wants you the same way you want her. You were a good fuck, Jericho." That sexy sly smile spread onto her face and she did her best to make sure it didn't look forced. "I'm glad I added you to my list. You know, since ... well since Christian isn't here to keep me busy."
Her heart broke as the rejection slammed itself onto his face and she quickly turned, running out the door. She had to get away. The tears sprung to her eyes and she just had to get away. She ...
Trish gasped as a rough hand grabbed her arm and soon she found herself spun against the familiar hard chest, those crystal blue eyes staring holes through her. He didn't wait for her to react but simply crushed his mouth to hers in the most forceful passionate kiss he could manage.
His mouth audibly breaking away from hers, he held her eye contact. "And still ... the way you kiss me says otherwise."
Trish swallowed hard, a shaky hand coming up to her lips as she could feel his lingering moisture. Tears fell from her eyes as he walked away from her, his hands clutching his back and neck with each painful step. Oh, how she yearned to run to him, wrap him in his arms and apologize. To just hold him and let him hold her.
Turning quickly, she rushed in the opposite direction. She didn't want to admit it. She couldn't admit her true feelings for their passionate encounter. If she did, it would tear her apart with the knowledge that yet again she let the love of her life walk away. And all because of that stupid tape that Eric had. God, how had he gotten his hands on it.
Turning another corner, Trish wiped the tears from her eyes. And Chris. Poor Chris. He had no idea. He had no idea who she was and what he'd just done with her. He'd probably be sickened if he ever found out. But still, she couldn't get him out of her mind. His hands, his body, his mouth, Sweet Lord, his mouth. The way he kissed her sent sensations through her body that she'd never felt. The way his lips and his tongue would circle in her mouth and then along her neck and chest and shoulders before returning to her mouth again. She didn't want him to stop.
It was love making. She knew it. She knew it the moment they began. The way he treated her, held her and entered her. The way he moved, the way he whispered sweet whispers of nothing in her ear as he rocked sensation after pleasurable sensation from her body. Just thinking of how beautiful the experience, she wanted to run back to him and kiss him again. To kiss him and kiss him until he responded with as much vigor and need that he would make love to her all over again.
Trish shook her head, barging into the locker room. "Stacy." She cried, weak in the knees and she looked around the room, her eyes widening at the sight. "Jeff?"
Stacy and Edge jumped, their eyes locking on the blonde. "Trish?"
Jeff Hardy stood slowly, walking to her at a steady pace. His eyes remained cold until he stood only one step in front of her. His pale green eyes instantly softened and he opened his arms, gathering her into them and against his chest with his hug.
Trish collapsed, the comforting feeling that she'd yearned for so long finally returning to the most infinitesimal degree. She could feel his friendship, his compassion. She could feel her Jeff again.
"Shhh," he hushed her.
"Jeff," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "Jeff, I ... I'm so lost."
"Shhh," he silenced her, kissing her forehead lightly before pressing his cheek to the top of her head. "It'll be alright. Just tell me what happened."
Trish sniffled. How in the hell could she ever tell her friends what had just happened?
(So ends another chapter ... so are the days of our wrestling. I'm still planning on continuing but as always it depends on reviews. I write because I know people read. So let me know you're reading. )