Title: Endless Love
Author: Crimson Coin
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.
July 5, 2004
Lita clenched her teeth, her shoulders tensing as she watched the camera man walk away, Trish Stratus making her own retreat as well. How dare she? How dare Trish Stratus say those things? Lita wasn't a whore. She didn't sleep with men for the hell of it to get what she wanted. Kane was a mistake and even so, she felt forced into it. And that perky little blonde acted as though she was innocent and Lita was a whore.
Lita clenched her fists, her eyes flaming with an angered rage as she stalked after Trish. With an aggressive hand, she grabbed the blonde's arm, spinning her with force. She said nothing but swung hard, landing a vicious punch across the blonde's chin.
Trish fell to the ground, her eyes wide with surprise as Lita pounced on top of her. One punch then another and Lita grabbed Trish's cast and slammed her broken wrist onto the concrete. Trish yelped in pain when suddenly Lita was pulled off and the blonde curled into herself, tears springing to her eyes as she rolled into a ball.
Tyson Tomko tossed Lita across the floor, his eyes a passionate blaze as he approached the redhead again. "You little slut!" he growled, reaching down to fist her hair.
But his hand was swatted away and Tomko straightened, glaring up at Lita's defender. Kane bore his teeth, his shoulders broad as he placed himself in front of Lita. Tomko growled, refusing to show any weakness. He could faintly hear the whimpers of pain and the shaking breaths and he knew it was Trish. That only fueled his anger.
Kane inched closer to Tomko, neither man backing down. Kane tilted his head. "Do not touch ... the mother of my child."
A sinister smile spread onto Tyson's lips. "Then keep your whore in check."
Kane's glare flashed dangerously at those words and his sneer ominously grew. "Speak for your own."
Tyson narrowed his eyes, sniffing once before cocking his head with utmost conviction.
"What's going on?"
Neither man moved at the voice.
"I asked a question." Dave Batista clarified as he stepped next to Tyson. His eyes focused clear and threatening on the much larger Kane.
Yet Kane appeared unfazed by the two men. "You protect yours. And I ... protect mine."
Chris Jericho watched silently from his dark corner. His shoulder was heavily wrapped, an icepack held to his aching joint by numerous cloth bandages and his lip had stopped bleeding. But his concern was not for the argumentative men, nor for who would be his opponent on Sunday, the man who cost him the Intercontinental Championship.
No.
Chris's eyes were drawn to her, like always. Her tiny form, recoiling into herself as her face winced and contorted in pain. He could hear her faint whispers, the silent cries that rumbled in her throat. She was trying desperately to control her breathing but seemed to be failing. Her chest rose and fell with her gasps as her well hand gripped her cast, pulling the injured hand against her in protective instinct.
His eye widened as he watched her lips and he could tell she was swearing. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, steadying its trembling and another whimper slipped out.
Edge stood from his place at Lita's side. He eyed Kane warily, then stood at the Red Machine's side, glaring down Tomko, Batista and Orton.
Kane grabbed Tyson by the throat, sparing no time as he roared, lifting the other man into the air and throwing him through the glass window to his right. Edge pounced on Orton as Batista lunged at Kane.
Chris cocked his head, watching the fight. Lita shuddered, pushing herself away from the men and huddling in a corner, too frightened to move. Edge, Kane, Batista, Orton, and Tomko fought. From one to the next, the action so chaotic Chris didn't know who was winning, much less anything else that was going on. He didn't care. His eyes scanned the area again, falling on Trish's crumpled body.
The fight was moving closer to her. Closer and closer until Batista almost stepped on her when he staggered back. Chris could watch no more. He ran across the backstage lot, dodging flying objects and bodies until he reached Trish's side. He slipped his hands under her arms, pulling her back and away, hiding behind some large boxes. He was rough but he had to get her away before she got hurt again. He winced as his shoulder popped and he let out a hiss at the burning pain. Rolling his shoulder, he ignored it and dropped to his knees at her side.
Trish didn't resist; she did not fight. The pain singed her nerves and shocked up her arm to her shoulder. She didn't know what was going on, only the severe pain in her wrist was inescapable. The tears finally fell from her eyes.
"Sh, Shh, Shh" he hushed gently, reaching out and wiping the tears from her eyes. "Shh, it'll be alright." He turned his attention to her wrist.
Trish shuddered, her eyes wide and afraid as she watched him, the man who not one month ago had struck her and called her names. Yet here he was, wiping the tears from her eyes with nothing but love in his face.
He swallowed hard, carefully lifting her wrist to look at it. She hissed and he winced in sympathy. "Ok." He placed her arm down. "It'll be ok." He reassured, straining himself to unwrap his shoulder.
"What ..." she licked her lips, clenching her teeth a moment to suppress the pain. "What are you doing? No."
"Stop it." He ordered her and she quickly fell into silence. "Shit, I'm sorry. I just ... just trust me."
She didn't respond, didn't fight as he continued to unwrap his shoulder. Straining with much difficulty, he removed all the bandages then took the soft ice pack off his bruised joint. Her breath caught in her throat as he wrapped the soft ice pack around the cast of her wrist.
His muscles throbbing, his shoulder bursting with pain, he pushed that aside as he picked up his bandages and secured the ice pack to her cast. "It won't do much." He said with some difficulty. "But the cold should help numb it a little. Do you think it's rebroken?"
Trish shook her head.
He blinked slowly, tucking a corner of the bandage then delicately brushing his fingers along her cast. Catching himself, he pulled back suddenly, afraid to touch her anymore. He kept his eyes downcast and low as he spoke. "You should have someone look at it ... just to make sure."
Trish didn't respond.
Chris licked his dry lips, rolling his painful shoulder to try and ease the discomfort. Her eyes were so sad, so very sad. "Oh, Trish," he reached out to cup her cheek. "I ..."
But she flinched away from him, her eyes flashing with fear.
He froze, his heart breaking as he lowered his hand back down to his side. "Yeah." He closed his eyes and sat back on his heels. "Yeah, I ... I ..."
"Get your fucking hands off of her."
Chris fell back at the impact and his injured shoulder hit the concrete. His mouth agape with a silent cry, he squeezed his eyes shut as his other hand reached up to rub his cheek. He forced his eyes open and he was shocked.
Randy Orton knelt at Trish's side, his hand placed on her waist as the young man glared with a fiery passion. "You're never going to touch her again. You hear me?" He turned his attention to Trish, his eyes immediately softening as he reached out to cup her cheek. "Are you ok, Baby? He didn't hurt you did he?"
Trish shook her head, her good hand grabbing his arm. "I'm fine. Just ... just help me up." She turned her eyes away from Chris as Randy helped her stand, her boyfriend's arms wrapping around her in a quick hug. At least Chris assumed he was her boyfriend now.
"Oh Baby," Randy cooed. "Here, let me see." He looked at her wrist, cradling it gently in his hand. "Come on, let's get you to the trainers. Just to make sure it's ok. Are you ok to walk? The pain's not too much? I can carry you if you want."
A little giggle slipped from her lips as she smiled, shyly, her head ducked. "I'm fine, Randy. It just really hurts. Just ... just walk me back."
"Alright, then." Randy answered with a smile and he ducked down, kissing her softly. "Are you sure?" he whispered. When she nodded, he wrapped his arm around Trish and he led her away from the fight and from Chris.
Chris watched with panged eyes as Trish leaned into him and his heart clutched when she turned around, locking eyes with him. Her eyes were still sad. So sad and confused. But she only shook her head, curling a little further into Randy as she continued down the hall.
He raced up the brick steps of his home, fiddling with his keys before finding the right one. He opened the front door, swinging it open and making sure it stayed that way. He turned his attention back to the car, his eyes widening in fright. "What are you doing?" he charged back down the stairs.
Trish threw him an incredulous look as she tightly gripped the top of the passenger side door to keep her balance. Her right leg stuck out, her ankle wrapped heavily. "I'm getting out of the car. What does it look like I'm doing?"
"No," He stopped right in front of her, slipping under her arm and supporting her. With ease, he whisked her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He gripped her waist tightly, his other arm ever so delicate under her knees; he acted as though she were made of glass. With a bump of the hip, he closed the passenger side door and slowly walked up the stairs.
"Chris."
He didn't answer her but instead continued walking. Once inside the house, he kicked closed the door then walked into the den. He lay her gently on the couch, making sure her head was high enough on the pillows and she situated herself even higher so her midback was resting against the arm of the couch.
"Chris."
"Here's an extra pillow." He said, ignoring her call as he gently placed his hand on her back, slipping a large pillow behind her so she could be more comfortable.
"Chris."
He glanced around the room, finding a few more spare pillows on the floor. "Here, we have to elevate your foot." With greatest care, he wrapped his arm around her ankle and calf, lifting her leg then placing the two pillows down. As if caring for the Queen, he placed her ankle on the pillows. "Is it high enough? Maybe I should get you some ice." He turned towards the doorway.
"Chris!"
He jostled at her command, his eyes meeting hers but he only twisted slightly. "I ... I have to get you some ice. Do you want some water too? Maybe a nice cup of tea. I'll make us a pot of coffee. No, you prefer tea don't you. I ..."
"Chris!" she forced out again, a beautiful smile on her face as she laughed at him. "Just come here. Get ... here." She pointed at the floor space next to her.
"What is it?" he asked, worried, walking to the space she pointed at. "Is there something wrong? Do you want a blanket?" He stopped at her side. "I'm gonna go get you a blanket."
"No," she commanded, reaching out quickly to grab his wrist before he could flutter off. "Come here." She pulled hard on his wrist causing him to fall onto the couch, sitting at her side. "Just stay here a minute." She released his wrist to rub up his arm to his shoulder then down to clasp his hand, entwining their fingers. "Just sit with me."
"But ..." he pulled slightly, as if to stand.
"No," she stated, keeping him at her side. "Stay." She pouted that sweet adorable pout, her eyes batting momentarily as she tightened her hold on his hand, her other hand rubbing up his arm. "Just for a little while."
He smiled, a soft chuckle escaping as he relaxed, but only a bit. "I can't pamper you if I stay. I want to pamper my wife and as long as I'm sitting here, I can't do that."
"But I want you to stay here with me."
"And who's going to make supper?"
Her face contorted with disgust. "Yuck. How can you even think about eating?"
He cocked his head, a single brow raised and he squeezed her hand. "Hunny, don't you know by now that I always think about eating."
She snuggled into the pillow, still not releasing his hand. "Well now I want you to think about me and sitting here with me."
"Fine." He conceded. "Are you going to let go of my hand? Or am I a prisoner of your will."
She smiled. "I don't want to let go of your hand. And you should know by now that you're forever a prisoner of my will."
He chuckled, leaning towards her, his eyes half closed as he moved closer and closer to her lips. "Well, that's ok with me too." He wrapped his lips around hers, sealing such a delicate kiss that she tightened her grip on him for only a moment, then released him.
Her hands reached up, cupping either side of his face to keep him still as she leaned up into him. She felt her body lurch as he held the kiss even longer. So soft and sweet and sensual, she felt her toes curl, her muscles clenching as her need to pull him flush on top of her and ravage his mouth, to clutch at his body and ...
But she couldn't.
Feeling her relax completely, he pulled back ever so slightly and when only a few inches from her lips, he opened his eyes. Her eyes glistened with tears, affection and love. Chris only smiled. "You know something?" he asked.
"What?" she breathed, her heart nearly beating in her throat, simply melting at the look in his eyes.
He chuckled. "You let go of my hand." Instant mischief flashed in his eyes as he shot up off the couch.
"Chris!" She commanded though her laughter nixed any conviction in her voice and she sat up, reaching desperately to try and catch him.
He laughed, racing across the room then turning to her with a dancing expression.
"Chris," she pouted, turning to glance over the back of the couch and she slammed her fist on the back. "That wasn't fair. I wanted you to stay here."
He raised his brow, playfully. "And I want to make you dinner."
She shifted slightly and her eyes widened, her lips parting in a gasp. She swore softly, turning her attention away from him and to her swollen ankle.
Chris immediately ran around the couch, reaching out to help situate her ankle. "Damn it, Baby, I'm sorry. I ..." His words were cut off when a hand slipped into the back of his pants and a hoot slipped from his lips as he was yanked back. He grunted as he fell onto the couch, back at his position at her side but this time, both her hands clutched his. He eyed her, suspiciously. "That was mean."
"What?"
"Crying 'Wolf' like that. Next time, I might not come running."
She giggled. "You know you will."
He shook his head. "Cheap. Calling me on my only weakness."
"What?" she laughed. "The fact that you're a real sissy like that and fret over nonsense."
"No," he responded in full seriousness. "Maybe the fact you've got a really bad sprain because of that damned woman in that ring and I love you."
Her eyes softened. "You love me?"
His eyes widened with disbelief as he laughed. "I married you, woman, didn't I?"
"I know," she said, softly. "But it's just always something special to hear it."
"Well," He said in a huff as he pulled his hand from hers and crossed his arms. "It would be nice to hear it every once in a while too, you know."
She sat up quickly, her hands cupping his face. "God, I love you." She sighed, pulling him to her and capturing his lips in a fire heated kiss.
His eyes widened at first, shocked and surprised by her actions. But when she deepened the kiss, he let his eyes fall shut, his arms wrapping around her as he lowered her back onto the couch. Her hands tangled in his hair then ran down his body, pulling him on top of her.
He broke the kiss. "Wait, what are you doing? I'll cruh..."
"You won't hurt me." She interrupted. "Please, Chris. Please, just ..." she didn't finish her sentence but kissed him instead.
He obeyed her wish, though settled on top of her gently, simply kissing and caressing her. Abandoning her lips, he kissed down her chin to her neck, finding the spot he always desired and sealing his lips there.
Trish hissed.
He pushed back, his eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry. Did I ..."
She fisted his hair, shaking her head. "That was good, Chris." She sighed, pulling his head back to her neck. "God, it was good."
Chris hummed, his eyes closing as he resumed his task of adoring her neck. His lips danced and trailed a hot path along the side of her throat before moving up to her ear. He panted, breathing heavily into her ear, his heart racing. "I want you." He gruffed out, grinding into her to be sure she felt his need. "I want you so bad."
She moaned his name, crashing her lips to his in a mind altering kiss. Tongues twining, bodies pressed close, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck to keep him in place. Their lips sore, their bodies trembling though neither yearned to stop.
He pulled back when oxygen grew lax and he pressed his forehead to hers. "I don't want to hurt you." He said, doing his best to control his breath. "I'm afraid ... I'll hurt you."
"You won't hurt me." She answered, curling her fingers into his hair, just to make sure he didn't pull away. "But there's something I want to tell you.
"What?"
She licked her lips, taking a few moments to regain herself. "Chris, we ... we've been married for ... for over a year."
He nodded. "Sixteen months of absolute bliss." He answered then kissed her.
She moaned, leaning into him and when he slipped his tongue past her lips, she trembled with need. Controlling herself, she pulled him back. "Chris, wait."
He licked his lips, opening his eyes to meet hers. Once locking, he couldn't resist giving her one last passionate kiss, his tongue an ever present assault in her mouth as he rocked her body with intense lust.
When he pulled back, she licked her lips, resisting every urge to just have her way with him that very moment. A smile pulled at her lips as she giggled. "You keep doing that, I'm gonna forget what I wanted to say."
"Is that a bad thing?" he leaned down again, his lips hovering over hers.
"I want to have a baby." She spat out before he could kiss her again.
Shocked, he pushed up, looking down at her with a cock of the head. "What?"
She flushed an even deeper shade of red. "It's just ... I'm getting older. I mean, I'm thirty, Chris, and I want to have children before it's too late." She sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. Her voice fell soft and soothing from her lips. "And I want you to be the father."
He smiled, warmly. "Well, I am your husband and all."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah," he sighed with a nod. "Yeah, I do. Well ..." He smiled that cocky smile, and he gave a nonchalant shrug. "We better get going quick then."
She laughed, her hand tightening on his arms as he attacked her throat, nipping and growling as he tickled her in his mocked rush of passion. "Chris," she laughed, swatting at his hands. "Mercy ... Chris, mercy."
He stopped that instant, stilling on her and settling deeply into her body with a content sigh. His eyes remained soft as his lips curled in a gentle smile. "I think I'll be a great Dad. If it's a girl, I'll spoil her rotten cuz she'd be Daddy's Little Girl. And ... if it's a boy. Well then we'll both have to find ways of stopping your heart and driving you crazy. So the more strapping young boys to love, the more fun I can have and get away with it. Sounds like a plan." He sat up then at her side, unfastening his pants. "Let's get to it. You need me to help you with yours?"
She held her stomach, laughing hysterically as he stood, his pants falling around his ankles. "Oh God, Chris."
He smiled, holding his laugh back as he bent over, attacking the fastens of her pants.
She swatted his hands away. "Hey. Hey, cut it out."
"You wanted to have kids. And this part will be necessary, though I can see why you wouldn't want to."
She grabbed his wrists, pulling him down on top of her.
He landed with a grunt, his head knocking against her shoulder. He pushed up to look in her eye. "That was awkward. Aren't I romantic in my clumsiness?"
Her smile stayed beautiful and bright on her face as she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, adoring the serious look that crossed his face. "Chris, make love to me. And you know how I like it."
"Slow and sensual, Baby." He sighed then sealed their lips.
Chris opened his eyes, unmoving as he stared at the ceiling of his hotel room. Another night, another dream. And like all the others, this was a nightmare. Not like the other nightmares where creatures would rake and claw or anything would happen to scare him. No, this nightmare showed him what could have been. That he could have been happy with the woman who still claimed his heart.
The tears slipped from his sleep haggard eyes. It would be another sleepless night.
(Read, review, let me know)
Author: Crimson Coin
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.
July 5, 2004
Lita clenched her teeth, her shoulders tensing as she watched the camera man walk away, Trish Stratus making her own retreat as well. How dare she? How dare Trish Stratus say those things? Lita wasn't a whore. She didn't sleep with men for the hell of it to get what she wanted. Kane was a mistake and even so, she felt forced into it. And that perky little blonde acted as though she was innocent and Lita was a whore.
Lita clenched her fists, her eyes flaming with an angered rage as she stalked after Trish. With an aggressive hand, she grabbed the blonde's arm, spinning her with force. She said nothing but swung hard, landing a vicious punch across the blonde's chin.
Trish fell to the ground, her eyes wide with surprise as Lita pounced on top of her. One punch then another and Lita grabbed Trish's cast and slammed her broken wrist onto the concrete. Trish yelped in pain when suddenly Lita was pulled off and the blonde curled into herself, tears springing to her eyes as she rolled into a ball.
Tyson Tomko tossed Lita across the floor, his eyes a passionate blaze as he approached the redhead again. "You little slut!" he growled, reaching down to fist her hair.
But his hand was swatted away and Tomko straightened, glaring up at Lita's defender. Kane bore his teeth, his shoulders broad as he placed himself in front of Lita. Tomko growled, refusing to show any weakness. He could faintly hear the whimpers of pain and the shaking breaths and he knew it was Trish. That only fueled his anger.
Kane inched closer to Tomko, neither man backing down. Kane tilted his head. "Do not touch ... the mother of my child."
A sinister smile spread onto Tyson's lips. "Then keep your whore in check."
Kane's glare flashed dangerously at those words and his sneer ominously grew. "Speak for your own."
Tyson narrowed his eyes, sniffing once before cocking his head with utmost conviction.
"What's going on?"
Neither man moved at the voice.
"I asked a question." Dave Batista clarified as he stepped next to Tyson. His eyes focused clear and threatening on the much larger Kane.
Yet Kane appeared unfazed by the two men. "You protect yours. And I ... protect mine."
Chris Jericho watched silently from his dark corner. His shoulder was heavily wrapped, an icepack held to his aching joint by numerous cloth bandages and his lip had stopped bleeding. But his concern was not for the argumentative men, nor for who would be his opponent on Sunday, the man who cost him the Intercontinental Championship.
No.
Chris's eyes were drawn to her, like always. Her tiny form, recoiling into herself as her face winced and contorted in pain. He could hear her faint whispers, the silent cries that rumbled in her throat. She was trying desperately to control her breathing but seemed to be failing. Her chest rose and fell with her gasps as her well hand gripped her cast, pulling the injured hand against her in protective instinct.
His eye widened as he watched her lips and he could tell she was swearing. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, steadying its trembling and another whimper slipped out.
Edge stood from his place at Lita's side. He eyed Kane warily, then stood at the Red Machine's side, glaring down Tomko, Batista and Orton.
Kane grabbed Tyson by the throat, sparing no time as he roared, lifting the other man into the air and throwing him through the glass window to his right. Edge pounced on Orton as Batista lunged at Kane.
Chris cocked his head, watching the fight. Lita shuddered, pushing herself away from the men and huddling in a corner, too frightened to move. Edge, Kane, Batista, Orton, and Tomko fought. From one to the next, the action so chaotic Chris didn't know who was winning, much less anything else that was going on. He didn't care. His eyes scanned the area again, falling on Trish's crumpled body.
The fight was moving closer to her. Closer and closer until Batista almost stepped on her when he staggered back. Chris could watch no more. He ran across the backstage lot, dodging flying objects and bodies until he reached Trish's side. He slipped his hands under her arms, pulling her back and away, hiding behind some large boxes. He was rough but he had to get her away before she got hurt again. He winced as his shoulder popped and he let out a hiss at the burning pain. Rolling his shoulder, he ignored it and dropped to his knees at her side.
Trish didn't resist; she did not fight. The pain singed her nerves and shocked up her arm to her shoulder. She didn't know what was going on, only the severe pain in her wrist was inescapable. The tears finally fell from her eyes.
"Sh, Shh, Shh" he hushed gently, reaching out and wiping the tears from her eyes. "Shh, it'll be alright." He turned his attention to her wrist.
Trish shuddered, her eyes wide and afraid as she watched him, the man who not one month ago had struck her and called her names. Yet here he was, wiping the tears from her eyes with nothing but love in his face.
He swallowed hard, carefully lifting her wrist to look at it. She hissed and he winced in sympathy. "Ok." He placed her arm down. "It'll be ok." He reassured, straining himself to unwrap his shoulder.
"What ..." she licked her lips, clenching her teeth a moment to suppress the pain. "What are you doing? No."
"Stop it." He ordered her and she quickly fell into silence. "Shit, I'm sorry. I just ... just trust me."
She didn't respond, didn't fight as he continued to unwrap his shoulder. Straining with much difficulty, he removed all the bandages then took the soft ice pack off his bruised joint. Her breath caught in her throat as he wrapped the soft ice pack around the cast of her wrist.
His muscles throbbing, his shoulder bursting with pain, he pushed that aside as he picked up his bandages and secured the ice pack to her cast. "It won't do much." He said with some difficulty. "But the cold should help numb it a little. Do you think it's rebroken?"
Trish shook her head.
He blinked slowly, tucking a corner of the bandage then delicately brushing his fingers along her cast. Catching himself, he pulled back suddenly, afraid to touch her anymore. He kept his eyes downcast and low as he spoke. "You should have someone look at it ... just to make sure."
Trish didn't respond.
Chris licked his dry lips, rolling his painful shoulder to try and ease the discomfort. Her eyes were so sad, so very sad. "Oh, Trish," he reached out to cup her cheek. "I ..."
But she flinched away from him, her eyes flashing with fear.
He froze, his heart breaking as he lowered his hand back down to his side. "Yeah." He closed his eyes and sat back on his heels. "Yeah, I ... I ..."
"Get your fucking hands off of her."
Chris fell back at the impact and his injured shoulder hit the concrete. His mouth agape with a silent cry, he squeezed his eyes shut as his other hand reached up to rub his cheek. He forced his eyes open and he was shocked.
Randy Orton knelt at Trish's side, his hand placed on her waist as the young man glared with a fiery passion. "You're never going to touch her again. You hear me?" He turned his attention to Trish, his eyes immediately softening as he reached out to cup her cheek. "Are you ok, Baby? He didn't hurt you did he?"
Trish shook her head, her good hand grabbing his arm. "I'm fine. Just ... just help me up." She turned her eyes away from Chris as Randy helped her stand, her boyfriend's arms wrapping around her in a quick hug. At least Chris assumed he was her boyfriend now.
"Oh Baby," Randy cooed. "Here, let me see." He looked at her wrist, cradling it gently in his hand. "Come on, let's get you to the trainers. Just to make sure it's ok. Are you ok to walk? The pain's not too much? I can carry you if you want."
A little giggle slipped from her lips as she smiled, shyly, her head ducked. "I'm fine, Randy. It just really hurts. Just ... just walk me back."
"Alright, then." Randy answered with a smile and he ducked down, kissing her softly. "Are you sure?" he whispered. When she nodded, he wrapped his arm around Trish and he led her away from the fight and from Chris.
Chris watched with panged eyes as Trish leaned into him and his heart clutched when she turned around, locking eyes with him. Her eyes were still sad. So sad and confused. But she only shook her head, curling a little further into Randy as she continued down the hall.
He raced up the brick steps of his home, fiddling with his keys before finding the right one. He opened the front door, swinging it open and making sure it stayed that way. He turned his attention back to the car, his eyes widening in fright. "What are you doing?" he charged back down the stairs.
Trish threw him an incredulous look as she tightly gripped the top of the passenger side door to keep her balance. Her right leg stuck out, her ankle wrapped heavily. "I'm getting out of the car. What does it look like I'm doing?"
"No," He stopped right in front of her, slipping under her arm and supporting her. With ease, he whisked her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He gripped her waist tightly, his other arm ever so delicate under her knees; he acted as though she were made of glass. With a bump of the hip, he closed the passenger side door and slowly walked up the stairs.
"Chris."
He didn't answer her but instead continued walking. Once inside the house, he kicked closed the door then walked into the den. He lay her gently on the couch, making sure her head was high enough on the pillows and she situated herself even higher so her midback was resting against the arm of the couch.
"Chris."
"Here's an extra pillow." He said, ignoring her call as he gently placed his hand on her back, slipping a large pillow behind her so she could be more comfortable.
"Chris."
He glanced around the room, finding a few more spare pillows on the floor. "Here, we have to elevate your foot." With greatest care, he wrapped his arm around her ankle and calf, lifting her leg then placing the two pillows down. As if caring for the Queen, he placed her ankle on the pillows. "Is it high enough? Maybe I should get you some ice." He turned towards the doorway.
"Chris!"
He jostled at her command, his eyes meeting hers but he only twisted slightly. "I ... I have to get you some ice. Do you want some water too? Maybe a nice cup of tea. I'll make us a pot of coffee. No, you prefer tea don't you. I ..."
"Chris!" she forced out again, a beautiful smile on her face as she laughed at him. "Just come here. Get ... here." She pointed at the floor space next to her.
"What is it?" he asked, worried, walking to the space she pointed at. "Is there something wrong? Do you want a blanket?" He stopped at her side. "I'm gonna go get you a blanket."
"No," she commanded, reaching out quickly to grab his wrist before he could flutter off. "Come here." She pulled hard on his wrist causing him to fall onto the couch, sitting at her side. "Just stay here a minute." She released his wrist to rub up his arm to his shoulder then down to clasp his hand, entwining their fingers. "Just sit with me."
"But ..." he pulled slightly, as if to stand.
"No," she stated, keeping him at her side. "Stay." She pouted that sweet adorable pout, her eyes batting momentarily as she tightened her hold on his hand, her other hand rubbing up his arm. "Just for a little while."
He smiled, a soft chuckle escaping as he relaxed, but only a bit. "I can't pamper you if I stay. I want to pamper my wife and as long as I'm sitting here, I can't do that."
"But I want you to stay here with me."
"And who's going to make supper?"
Her face contorted with disgust. "Yuck. How can you even think about eating?"
He cocked his head, a single brow raised and he squeezed her hand. "Hunny, don't you know by now that I always think about eating."
She snuggled into the pillow, still not releasing his hand. "Well now I want you to think about me and sitting here with me."
"Fine." He conceded. "Are you going to let go of my hand? Or am I a prisoner of your will."
She smiled. "I don't want to let go of your hand. And you should know by now that you're forever a prisoner of my will."
He chuckled, leaning towards her, his eyes half closed as he moved closer and closer to her lips. "Well, that's ok with me too." He wrapped his lips around hers, sealing such a delicate kiss that she tightened her grip on him for only a moment, then released him.
Her hands reached up, cupping either side of his face to keep him still as she leaned up into him. She felt her body lurch as he held the kiss even longer. So soft and sweet and sensual, she felt her toes curl, her muscles clenching as her need to pull him flush on top of her and ravage his mouth, to clutch at his body and ...
But she couldn't.
Feeling her relax completely, he pulled back ever so slightly and when only a few inches from her lips, he opened his eyes. Her eyes glistened with tears, affection and love. Chris only smiled. "You know something?" he asked.
"What?" she breathed, her heart nearly beating in her throat, simply melting at the look in his eyes.
He chuckled. "You let go of my hand." Instant mischief flashed in his eyes as he shot up off the couch.
"Chris!" She commanded though her laughter nixed any conviction in her voice and she sat up, reaching desperately to try and catch him.
He laughed, racing across the room then turning to her with a dancing expression.
"Chris," she pouted, turning to glance over the back of the couch and she slammed her fist on the back. "That wasn't fair. I wanted you to stay here."
He raised his brow, playfully. "And I want to make you dinner."
She shifted slightly and her eyes widened, her lips parting in a gasp. She swore softly, turning her attention away from him and to her swollen ankle.
Chris immediately ran around the couch, reaching out to help situate her ankle. "Damn it, Baby, I'm sorry. I ..." His words were cut off when a hand slipped into the back of his pants and a hoot slipped from his lips as he was yanked back. He grunted as he fell onto the couch, back at his position at her side but this time, both her hands clutched his. He eyed her, suspiciously. "That was mean."
"What?"
"Crying 'Wolf' like that. Next time, I might not come running."
She giggled. "You know you will."
He shook his head. "Cheap. Calling me on my only weakness."
"What?" she laughed. "The fact that you're a real sissy like that and fret over nonsense."
"No," he responded in full seriousness. "Maybe the fact you've got a really bad sprain because of that damned woman in that ring and I love you."
Her eyes softened. "You love me?"
His eyes widened with disbelief as he laughed. "I married you, woman, didn't I?"
"I know," she said, softly. "But it's just always something special to hear it."
"Well," He said in a huff as he pulled his hand from hers and crossed his arms. "It would be nice to hear it every once in a while too, you know."
She sat up quickly, her hands cupping his face. "God, I love you." She sighed, pulling him to her and capturing his lips in a fire heated kiss.
His eyes widened at first, shocked and surprised by her actions. But when she deepened the kiss, he let his eyes fall shut, his arms wrapping around her as he lowered her back onto the couch. Her hands tangled in his hair then ran down his body, pulling him on top of her.
He broke the kiss. "Wait, what are you doing? I'll cruh..."
"You won't hurt me." She interrupted. "Please, Chris. Please, just ..." she didn't finish her sentence but kissed him instead.
He obeyed her wish, though settled on top of her gently, simply kissing and caressing her. Abandoning her lips, he kissed down her chin to her neck, finding the spot he always desired and sealing his lips there.
Trish hissed.
He pushed back, his eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry. Did I ..."
She fisted his hair, shaking her head. "That was good, Chris." She sighed, pulling his head back to her neck. "God, it was good."
Chris hummed, his eyes closing as he resumed his task of adoring her neck. His lips danced and trailed a hot path along the side of her throat before moving up to her ear. He panted, breathing heavily into her ear, his heart racing. "I want you." He gruffed out, grinding into her to be sure she felt his need. "I want you so bad."
She moaned his name, crashing her lips to his in a mind altering kiss. Tongues twining, bodies pressed close, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck to keep him in place. Their lips sore, their bodies trembling though neither yearned to stop.
He pulled back when oxygen grew lax and he pressed his forehead to hers. "I don't want to hurt you." He said, doing his best to control his breath. "I'm afraid ... I'll hurt you."
"You won't hurt me." She answered, curling her fingers into his hair, just to make sure he didn't pull away. "But there's something I want to tell you.
"What?"
She licked her lips, taking a few moments to regain herself. "Chris, we ... we've been married for ... for over a year."
He nodded. "Sixteen months of absolute bliss." He answered then kissed her.
She moaned, leaning into him and when he slipped his tongue past her lips, she trembled with need. Controlling herself, she pulled him back. "Chris, wait."
He licked his lips, opening his eyes to meet hers. Once locking, he couldn't resist giving her one last passionate kiss, his tongue an ever present assault in her mouth as he rocked her body with intense lust.
When he pulled back, she licked her lips, resisting every urge to just have her way with him that very moment. A smile pulled at her lips as she giggled. "You keep doing that, I'm gonna forget what I wanted to say."
"Is that a bad thing?" he leaned down again, his lips hovering over hers.
"I want to have a baby." She spat out before he could kiss her again.
Shocked, he pushed up, looking down at her with a cock of the head. "What?"
She flushed an even deeper shade of red. "It's just ... I'm getting older. I mean, I'm thirty, Chris, and I want to have children before it's too late." She sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. Her voice fell soft and soothing from her lips. "And I want you to be the father."
He smiled, warmly. "Well, I am your husband and all."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah," he sighed with a nod. "Yeah, I do. Well ..." He smiled that cocky smile, and he gave a nonchalant shrug. "We better get going quick then."
She laughed, her hand tightening on his arms as he attacked her throat, nipping and growling as he tickled her in his mocked rush of passion. "Chris," she laughed, swatting at his hands. "Mercy ... Chris, mercy."
He stopped that instant, stilling on her and settling deeply into her body with a content sigh. His eyes remained soft as his lips curled in a gentle smile. "I think I'll be a great Dad. If it's a girl, I'll spoil her rotten cuz she'd be Daddy's Little Girl. And ... if it's a boy. Well then we'll both have to find ways of stopping your heart and driving you crazy. So the more strapping young boys to love, the more fun I can have and get away with it. Sounds like a plan." He sat up then at her side, unfastening his pants. "Let's get to it. You need me to help you with yours?"
She held her stomach, laughing hysterically as he stood, his pants falling around his ankles. "Oh God, Chris."
He smiled, holding his laugh back as he bent over, attacking the fastens of her pants.
She swatted his hands away. "Hey. Hey, cut it out."
"You wanted to have kids. And this part will be necessary, though I can see why you wouldn't want to."
She grabbed his wrists, pulling him down on top of her.
He landed with a grunt, his head knocking against her shoulder. He pushed up to look in her eye. "That was awkward. Aren't I romantic in my clumsiness?"
Her smile stayed beautiful and bright on her face as she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, adoring the serious look that crossed his face. "Chris, make love to me. And you know how I like it."
"Slow and sensual, Baby." He sighed then sealed their lips.
Chris opened his eyes, unmoving as he stared at the ceiling of his hotel room. Another night, another dream. And like all the others, this was a nightmare. Not like the other nightmares where creatures would rake and claw or anything would happen to scare him. No, this nightmare showed him what could have been. That he could have been happy with the woman who still claimed his heart.
The tears slipped from his sleep haggard eyes. It would be another sleepless night.
(Read, review, let me know)