I own none of the WWE superstars (but I'd love to own Mark for a night).

NOTE: Sorry for the long delay. By now we can tell that Glen is pretty much clueless about everything. Perhaps he has a feeling but doesn't want to believe that the two people who mean the most to him would betray him, or maybe he's just as clueless as we think! Who knows? We'll see where this goes in later chapters... Now, on with chapter 8!

The Pier

I woke up and Glen was still asleep next to me. I studied his face as he slept and felt really bad for betraying him the way that I was. I knew how hurt he'd be if he found out what was really going on with me and Mark.

Mark... My thoughts wandered over to him and the amazing night we had shared. The experience had been mind-shattering, amazing, and incredibly powerful... Just a few days ago I'd hated Mark with a passion, and now here I was getting all excited by just thinking about him.

I got up out of the bed and headed into the bathroom wondering how the hell I was going to be able to pretend to hate him again. It was probably going to be one of the most difficult things I'd ever have to do. I would have to summon all of my inner strength just to even try to go back to the way I acted with him before, that sarcastic way we were for almost seven years...

About an hour later, Glen, Mark, and I sat down together at the dining room table. Before us on the table was a great-smelling breakfast, cooked by Mark.

"So, did everyone have a good sleep?" Glen asked brightly. He was the first one to speak. "I know I did."

"It was great. So refreshing..." My voice trailed off as I glanced across the table at Mark.

Mark's gaze melted me. "I had a good night, too. I didn't get much sleep, though..."

I picked around in my food with a fork, eyes on my plate to avoid meeting Mark's. "I'm not sure if I should eat this or not." If I had to get back into the role of "hating" Mark, I had to start now. "I mean, it looks good but it probably tastes like mierda."

"I know mierda is Spanish for shit," Mark said venomously. "But I'm a gourmet chef. You can ask anybody I've ever cooked for."

"Mark isn't lying. His food is the key to many women's hearts," Glen said, eating his food.

"That's not the only thing that gets them," Mark replied, licking his lips and sticking out that long tongue of his. "This tongue gets 'em every time."

I shivered. He was right about his tongue... He had proved that last night many, many times...

"Jade? You still here with us?" Glen asked, waving a hand in front of my face.

"She's probably fantasizing about my tongue," Mark said with an evil laugh. Oh, how well he knew me!

"Never, asswipe," I snapped. Picking up my food, I stood up and glared at both of them. "I'll be eating my poison in the kitchen. My sanctuary. Usual rules apply."

"And you know how great I usually am at following the rules," Mark said as I walked by, and Glen snickered. I shot Glen an evil look and Mark gave a whistle. "Looks like you won't be getting any tonight," he joked.

I started to eat my breakfast alone in the kitchen. Mark hadn't been lying when he'd said he was a gourmet chef. The food was delicious. Glen hadn't lied, either. It probably was the key to the hearts of many women.

For a minute, I couldn't decide what was better about Mark, the food or the sex. He was a great cook, but his skills in the bedroom were the best. His technique, his agility, his concentration, his expertise, and mostly his passion, made him the best lover I'd ever had.

"The sex. Definitely the sex," I said aloud to myself, and giggled softly.

"So what's so damn funny?" Mark asked. "Thinking about me?"

I was startled for a second. "Yeah, actually I was," I answered, turning around to look at him. "I was debating on what I liked better about you, the food or the sex," I said honestly in a low voice as I leaned casually against the counter.

"And what did you decide?" he asked, putting his hands on the counter, an arm on each side of me. "Mind you, you better say the right thing, or I will punish you the next time we get together."

"Mmmm, I decided that your awesome cooking skills make up for your shortcomings in the bedroom," I teased.

"Shortcomings? Was it these so-called shortcomings that had you moaning my name and scratching new tattoos on my back all night?" he asked in a low voice that matched mine. I looked at him, surprised at how his blunt descriptions of our night were beginning to affect me. Seeing this, he kept talking. "What was it? Oh yeah, 'Deeper, Mark... More!' Yeah, that was that song you were singing..."

Well, two could play that game. "You better stop talking like that before I do something to occupy your mouth," I warned, trailing a finger over his lips. "You know, like I did last night."

"That would be tasty," he said huskily. He bent down until his lips were extremely close to mine. "But I can't do it right now. Imagine Glen walking in and catching his sweet little tart on the kitchen counter going crazy and moaning my name..."

"Tart? I'm a tart?" I asked.

"Yeah, definitely," he said, but I knew he was kidding. "Otherwise you wouldn't dare let me do this, seeing as you're married and everything." He kissed me softly; our tongues wove a sweet and gentle pattern together.

"Mark... We better stop," I whispered as he leaned down to kiss my neck gently. "You know what this leads to."

"You didn't mind last night," he said, letting me go and backing up to put some distance between us. "But I understand why you're saying that."

"I knew you'd see things my way," I taunted him as I headed out the back door. "Tell Glen I'm going for a little walk."

I didn't wait for his reply. Instead I just walked out and headed for my thinking spot. It was a nice, clear day, and the bright sun kissed my skin as I headed for the pier by the lake in our backyard.

I walked to the end of the pier and stood on the edge. I thought it was kinda ironic how Mark had me "on the edge" and now I was standing on the edge of the pier. Very ironic.

I smiled to myself at the thought of Mark, but that expression quickly went away when two strong hands lifted me up and held me over the water.

I knew whose hands those were, and they weren't Glen's.

"Mark! Put me down!" I ordered as he easily dangled me over the water.

"Sure, I'll put you down...right in the lake," he said. "Unless, of course, you admit I have no shortcomings in the bedroom."

"Fine! You're a master in the bedroom, you're the best!" I told him. I just didn't want him to drop me in the lake...and besides, it was true...

He put me down on the edge of the pier, then sat down on the edge. "Sit next to me," he ordered, and of course I didn't tell him no. I sat down and he scooted close to me, as close as he could get. Then he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him.

"This feels nice," I whispered to him, leaning against his hard body.

"Of course. Do you know who you're leaning against?" he asked.

"You have such a big head," I said, shaking my head sadly. "So cocky."

"I know I have a big head... Last night, you liked it," he said, smiling.

"I loved it," I agreed, snuggling up closer to him. "You're awesome in bed..."

"I know," he said simply. "But I'm also awesome outside... Wanna find out?"

"Glen's right in the house," I said. "Don't be foolish."

"You guys have freaking woods in the backyard back here. Let's go for a walk on the trail..." His voice trailed off as he stood up and pulled me to my feet, too. "We might end up somewhere against a tree..."

"Whatever, I'm not doing you with Glen right in the house," I said. "You know we could get caught, don't you?"

"You're afraid, I see." He dropped my hand. "I'm not sure if you're brave enough to be with a man like me."

I thought for a minute, then came up with the perfect idea. "Come on," I said, grabbing his huge hand. "Follow me..."