Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews guys, they go a long way in making me believe there are actually people out there reading this lol. Here's the next part. I hope you enjoy it.


Chapter 2

Randy grinned devilishly as he looked at Stacy—letting her walk in front of him. Everyone in the back had nicknamed her 'Legs', but only he was lucky enough to know how long and glorious they were first hand. He snickered. She looked beyond sexy in her short black leather skirt and silver halter top. The things he wanted to do to her. His thoughts were getting a little carried away and the night had only just begun.

"After you." Randy said as he held the door open for Stacy.

'Such manners,' Stacy thought. Mrs. Orton would be proud.

"Who knew Randy Orton would be such a gentleman?" Stacy said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"Only for you doll, only for you," Randy said flashing a dark grin.

"Just this way, Mr. Orton," the bouncer said, leading Randy and Stacy to a VIP section of the club.

Randy wrapped one arm protectively around Stacy's waist, letting everyone know that she was his and his only. "You look beautiful tonight," Randy said, his lips close to Stacy's ear.

"You're not so shabby yourself Randall." She eyed him seductively. He was dressed in black from head to toe, the top three buttons of his silk dress shirt open. She had never known another man to radiate pure lust the way Randy did.

The bouncer led them to a corner booth that had a fantastic view of the dance floor and as they sat down, Randy promptly pulled Stacy onto his lap. "Much better," Randy said smugly.

Their lips met in a rough kiss, teeth and lips clashing, tasting one another. "I love you," Randy said, his eyes dark, their foreheads pressed against one another.

Stacy smirked. "Thanks."

Randy feigned being put off. "Thanks is all I get?"

Stacy grew more smug. "I suppose," she said nonchalantly.

"You suppose?" Randy said acting shocked. "Well then, I suppose that I'll just have to do this!" Randy said then promptly began tickling her.

"Stop it! Stop it you asshole!" Stacy screeched as she laughed, all the while trying to fight back but finding it difficult as she was trapped between Randy and the table. She smacked him, but to no avail across his chest.

"Say it!" Randy said, laughing like a mad man, high on love, "Say it!" He crushed her against him as she thrashed on his lap wildly, doing more to excite him than she could ever understand as he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably.

"Fine Fine!" Stacy managed to say in between hiccoughs. Randy finally relented. Stacy managed to regulate her breathing. Her eyes met his, shining with sincerity.

"I love you Randy."

There was no smugness on Randy's face, just sheer joy. He never seemed to grow tired of those words, especially from her lips. "Say it again," he said quietly.

"I love you Randy Orton, more than anything in the world."

Randy kissed her gently on her lips and breathed deeply. "I love you Stacy, I love you so much."


Hunter stared bitterly at the amber liquid in his shot glass—because if he wasn't looking at his shot glass then he'd be forced to watch the sickening display on the other side of the club.

Randy and Stacy.

So in love.

So sweet it made his teeth hurt.

They were the WWE's perfect couple, practically Barbie and Ken. Handsome guy meets the hot girl, they fall in love, and the rest is history. They were the perfect couple. Hunter Hearst Helmsley made it so.

Oh Hunter knew all about their torrid love affair. He was after all, Randy's mentor and had heard of all of Randy's feelings, all the emotion he had for Stacy—his fear of wanting to become more than friends, of their first kiss, of their first night together. Hunter knew everything, down to the last detail. Hunter had advised and encouraged their relationship. Indeed, he knew everything.

Hunter cursed himself, having never felt more stupid in his life. Why did he subject himself to this torture?. Why did he ever let himself in on the most intimate details of Randy and Stacy's love life? Yes, Randy willingly gave it to him, naively having the most implicit trust in Hunter, but all the same, Hunter instigated himself into knowing about the relationship, and why?

Because he was a dumb fuck. Because he thought he could live vicariously through Randy Orton.

Because he was in love with Stacy Keibler.

Hunter put the shot glass down slowly on the bar, closing his eyes and breathing slowly.

He'd blown his chance, his dreams with her all those years ago. True, they'd never been together, but they had always been close. From the first moment he had met her, he'd fallen. Beautiful, intelligent, humble and so incredibly graceful. He'd never met anyone like her before in his life.

Of course she didn't quite see it that way. For Stacy, Hunter was the big protective brother, someone to confide in. She trusted him.

And he? He loved her.

Hunter looked at the thick golden band upon his left hand.

All his life he'd been manipulating. Always positioning, always jockeying for an advantage, a route to put him on top. He was smart and he knew it. He was charming and he knew it. How else would he get so far in life but being ten steps ahead of everyone else?

He had everything: the trophy wife in Stephanie McMahon, the ear of the father-in-law Vince McMahon and the world heavyweight championship. He should be happy. Everything he'd ever wanted, he had. Everything he thought he'd wanted.

Wanted, but not needed.

One thing.

One person.

And he would have it all.

Hunter glanced around the club. Randy and Stacy were locked in an embrace, giggling like children.

He would put an end to that.