Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE.

This chap is a shorty. I was gonna add more at the end but it seemed out of place, so I scraped the idea. Enjoy : )

The long legged diva stared out of the frosted window bitterly. It was amazing how the weather could take such a drastic turn in just a few hours. By the time she had gone outside, there was almost a foot of snow. Any other time she would have enjoyed the soft flakes falling from the sky, but not today. She scowled as she pulled her jean jacket tighter around herself. The curse of having long legs was that it was practically mandatory she wear short skirts.

She glanced at the driver. He seemed pretty damn cozy. He hardly seemed to notice she was there.

Finally, Stacy couldn't take it any more. She reached over to turn up the heat, but was stopped short as he grabbed her hand.

"I'm cold!" she complained.

"I really don't care sweetheart. As long as I'm warm and toasty, I'm not turning up the heat," he responded.

Stacy sat back in a huff. Any other decent guy would have offered her his jacket. Or at least let her turn up the heater. But that showed just how different Randy was.

Stacy rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself.

"The snow's pretty nice," Randy murmured suddenly.

Stacy rolled her eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would think he was trying to strike up a conversation.

"It's also cold," she retorted.

Randy raised an eyebrow in amusement. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her long legs crossed. Her short skirt hardly left anything to the imagination, but that was just fine with him. Randy felt something stir within him as he imagined lifting the skirt just a little higher.

"I've always wanted to do it in the snow."

"And get hypothermia?" asked Stacy sarcastically.

"There's nothing warmer then body heat," returned Randy smirking. Looking over his shoulder at the deserted road, he pulled to the side and killed the engine. They sat in silence for a few minutes until he spoke again.

"Get out."

Stacy's eyes widened. Was he really serious? She was already cold enough inside the car; she didn't want to find out how cold she could be outside.

"Why?"

Randy sighed. "Because I said so, babe."

"Well, that's not a good enough reason for me to freeze to death," argued Stacy.

Randy chuckled. "Ya know, you agreed to do whatever I said. Did you change your mind?"

Stacy lowered her eyes. "Fine," she mumbled. She opened the car door and slammed it shut. Shivering, she looked towards the direction of the hotel. The full moon illuminated the long road, making it seem like it went on forever.

Randy stepped out of the car slowly. He was in no rush. The snow crunched under his feet as he made his way to the front of the car.

"Come here," he called. He tapped his fingers on the hood impatiently as she made her way to him. She stopped, standing in front of him nervously. Randy leaned back against the car and motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated and looked around as if wanting to escape. But there were no cars and they were still far from the hotel.

Randy let out a deep breath as she stepped nearer. He could already feel himself getting warmer. He ran his hands up and down her arms, although not to warm her. He simply wanted to touch her.

Stacy shivered. She was still cold, but his hands were warming her considerably.

"If you cared about me being warm we wouldn't be out here," she pointed out.

"I don't care," he replied casually.

"Then why are you touching me?" asked Stacy, jerking away from him. She stood back glaring at him. His eyes ran down her body lazily and he smirked.

"I like touching you." Before she had a chance to protest, Stacy found herself in his arms. As much as she hated to admit it, the low temperature was the furthest thing from her mind.

"Sooner or later, you're gonna have to give in to what your body wants," Randy murmured against her. Stacy trembled at his sensual tone.

"I don't want you," she managed to say.

Randy gave a throaty chuckle, his breath tickling her ear. He reached down and slipped his cold fingers in between her warm thighs. Stacy stifled a gasp from his cold touch. Before she could move away, Stacy felt his fingers rubbing against the thin fabric of her panties.

"Lying will get you nowhere with me sweetie," he said. Stacy felt herself blush. Why did she allow herself to be controlled by her desire? She wanted to move away, but his gaze kept her rooted to the spot.

She was torn from her thoughts as Randy continued to rub her. He stopped as he hooked his finger into her panties and slid them down her long legs. She really was beautiful. He had never taken the time to study a girl's face when he got with them. He usually did what he needed to do and kicked them out. But for some reason, under the pale light of the moon, he felt like he was seeing Stacy Keibler for the first time.

Without warning, he wrapped his hand around her neck and brought her lips to his. They were cold and Randy almost felt sorry for bringing her out here. He dismissed his thoughts as he began to work his way down her neck. He would warm her soon enough.

Stacy couldn't help the moan escaping from her lips. He was doing wonderful things to her. She gasped as he bit her lobe. He ran his tongue along the outline of her ear and gripped her tighter against him. His hands ran up and down her ass and thighs, making her feel like a fire was spreading from his fingertips. How could her mind and body be so contrasting? She disliked him so much as a person, but her body wanted him as she had never wanted any other man.

Randy lifted his mouth off her to groan in pleasure as she moved against him. It almost seemed like her body was seeking his for warmth. He couldn't blame her. It had suddenly gotten much colder, but he was hardly aware of the biting air. Randy turned her so she was sitting on the hood of the car.

Stacy flinched at the cold metal underneath her. Her short skirt did nothing to prevent the cold from getting through. Randy pushed her knees open and settled into the cradle of her thighs.

"Lie down," he commanded.

"It's too cold!" protested Stacy. She gasped in surprise as he brought his hand to her stomach, gently pushing her back.

"I said lie down," he repeated firmly. Hesitantly, Stacy lay down, arching her back to try to minimize contact with the cold metal. Randy smiled at this. It looked like she was offering herself to him. He lowered his lips to kiss her exposed stomach. He grinned as he felt her stiffen beneath him. He swirled his tongue below her bellybutton, his hands gripping her waist tightly. He continued to place kisses on her stomach, working his way down. Slowly, he lifted the skirt over her hips, exposing her to him. Randy placed his lips on her.

Stacy's fingers gripped his short hair desperately. She hardly knew where she was anymore. His tongue worked its way around her throbbing clitoris and she cried out at the torture he was putting her through. Her long legs hugged him tighter, not wanting him to stop. His tongue found its way inside her, and Stacy squeezed her eyes shut. His thumb was tracing slow, tantalizing circles on her and she was overwhelmed with the sensations. She pressed his head harder against her. She had an animalistic lust she had never experienced before. Her breath came in small puffs, hanging in the air before disappearing into the night. The only sounds heard on the silent road were her stifled moans, which only served to fuel Randy's desire.

Randy continued to tease her. He was growing harder with every stroke of his tongue. The way she was responding to him was enough to make him even more aggressive. He pinched her clit as he worked his tongue in deeper. He felt her legs tighten around him as she shuddered. Her hips bucked under him, needing, wanting more. He quickened his pace as her nails dug into the back of his head.

Finally, Randy felt her cum. He lifted his head to find her biting her lip. She trembled as she rode out the waves. As they began to disappear, Randy unbuckled his belt.

Stacy's eyes snapped open as she felt him lift her hips. Before she knew what he was doing, he thrust himself in. Tears welled up in her eyes at his sudden intrusion. She felt like she had been split in half. He had barely given her time to rest. The pain slowly gave way as she grew accustomed to him.

Randy groaned as he felt Stacy's warm walls around him. Was there anything that felt as good as being buried deep inside a woman? He felt her wrap her arms around him. He sensed that she was holding something back, but he ignored it as he felt himself nearing his peak. Sure enough, after a few more minutes, he felt himself release. He rested his head against her shoulder breathlessly.

Stacy closed her eyes as she rested her hands on his back. She knew he was bad for her. She knew he would never stop treating women like shit. She knew he was incapable of having feelings for anyone. But if she knew all these things, why did this feel so good? She sighed softly as she raised her lips to place a feather light kiss on his forehead.

Randy jerked as he felt her lips on his forehead. He pushed himself off and stood staring at her hurt expression before bending down to pull his pants back up.

"Come on," he said shortly. He waited until she slid off the hood to hand her her panties. She snatched them from him, with a glare. She pulled them on quickly and fixed her skirt.

"Can we go now?" she grumbled.

"Get rid of your fucken attitude and we'll be on our way," he shot back. "You just fucked me outside in the cold while I was wearing this," she motioned to her attire.

Randy raised an eyebrow as he looked her over. "You should have known better then to dress like that."

"You know they make me dress like this!" she exclaimed.

"Then its no ones fault now is it?" Randy shrugged.

"Let's go!" she exploded. "I'm tired of standing here freezing my ass off while you treat me like some random whore."

"Calm down, sweetheart. I hope you realize this kind of shit is gonna happen whenever I want it to. This is what you agreed to," he reminded her.

Stacy scowled. She couldn't deny that. But it didn't mean she had to like it. She stamped her feet, trying to keep warm. The sweat was cooling on her body, making her colder then ever.

"Fine, I'll fuck your sorry ass whenever you want me to," she snapped. She stumbled back as Randy stalked over to her. Her breath caught in her throat as he captured her lips in his own. He shoved his tongue inside and bit her lip so hard Stacy whimpered. She tried to pull away but he took hold of her head in both hands and kept her still. He ground his lips harder against hers until she could hardly breathe.

Suddenly, he let her go and Stacy fell back against the car. She stared at him, scared. He looked like he was ready to kill. She shivered once again. Although this time, it wasn't from the cold.

"Who's sorry now?"

Stacy closed her eyes against his harsh words. So she was right, she was nothing but a random whore to him. She swallowed over the painful lump in her throat. She refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry.

Randy glowered at her thin frame. How had she been able to get under his skin so quickly? Over the years, he had made himself invulnerable to the things a scorned woman might say. But Stacy didn't act like any of the other ones. Instead of yelling about how insensitive he was, she almost made him feel like she was the one doing him a favor.

He shook his head. That was impossible. Randy Orton didn't need anyone to do him any favors. He would just have to put her in her place.

(X X X)

Trish Stratus shut her eyes as shrill screams filled the room. Peeking out carefully, she saw the messy remains of a cheerleader displayed graphically on the screen.

"You sure know how to pick movies."

Trish smiled at the big man next to her. His face was expressionless, but she could see his fingers gripping the armrest tightly.

"It's ok," she cooed. She grasped his hand and held it in her much smaller one. He squeezed back as he shot her a smile. That damn smile. Trish restrained herself from jumping him right then and there. Did he have any idea what effect his smile had on her?

"I can't believe you're the one comforting me," he pointed out laughing.

"What can I say? I'm a tough chick," said Trish. Her breath caught in her throat as he disentangled his fingers from hers and swung an arm around her shoulders. She tensed for a minute, but seeing that his eyes were focused on the TV screen, she rested her head against him. She settled comfortably into him and tried to ignore the intoxicating smell that seemed to surround him. She loved that he was going so slow with her. That he was being so gentle.At the same time, however,Trish would like nothing more then to bring out the aggressive side that was lurking behind his cool façade. He was said to be an animal in the ring. But Trish suspected it was nothing compared to how he could be behind closed doors.

Trish started as the masked killer suddenly appeared. She heard Dave chuckle and pull her closer. Trish took her eyes off the screen to bury her face into the soft material of his shirts. Did he ever not wear suits? Trish smiled at this. She knew almost nothing about this man, yet the feeling she had when she was around him was one of complete security.

"Do you wear boxers or briefs?" she blurted out suddenly. She blushed a crimson red as soon as she realized what she had just said.

Dave sighed, as if thinking about it. "Well, to tell you the truth, whenever I get the chance, I go commando," he admitted. "But usually I wear boxers."

Trish's eyes widened at his response. Her eyes involuntarily flitted down.

"I have boxers on now," he said, as if reading her mind.

Trish giggled. "Oh…that's nice."

"What about you?" he asked glancing down at her. "What does Miss Stratus wear when she's just relaxing?"

Trish brought her feet up under her and shrugged. "I wear lingerie almost all the time. I mean, a girls gotta feel sexy whether she's wearing a hot dress or sweatpants right?"

Dave nodded. "A woman deserves to feel like she's wanted all the time."

Trish bit her lip as she stared at him. What was it about him that made it seem like everything he said was meant to take the panties off a woman? Was it his sensual tone? The way those cute lips moved whenever he spoke? The expression he got when he was thinking about something?

"Hey Dave, how many girls have you slept with?" He smiled before answering.

"Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged as she ran her nails lightly across his leg. She held back a giggle as he drew in a sharp breath.

"Just curious."

"Well, I guess if you count from the beginning of my sex life," he trailed off as he mentally ran over the people, "about five."

"Is that all?" asked Trish, surprised.

Dave chuckled. "I don't like sleeping around sweetheart. The women I sleep with are close to me. I refuse to have mediocre sex, and no sex can be mind-blowing if the emotional and mental connection aren't there."

Trish rested her hand on his knee. Had she ever heard a guy say anything as deep as that? "You're not like anyone I've ever met," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Should I take that as a compliment?" he asked.

"Oh yea," she assured. She fell silent as he began to move his hand up and down her arm. Despite the warmth he was providing, she felt gooseflesh arise on her skin. She shifted uncomfortably as she felt a jolt of desire run across her spine.

"Dave," she said trying to break the silence that promised to make her lose control.

"Yeah," he replied in a low voice.

Trish fought back a groan at the sound of his voice. This was getting out of hand. He wasn't even trying, and already she could feel a distinct wetness in her panties.

"I don't think we should be this close," she said breathlessly.

"Why not?" he asked nonchalantly. He didn't seem to notice that Trish's breath was now coming in shallow pants. This made her angry. Why should she be the only one who was feeling this way?

She raised herself up on her knees and swung a leg over him. She sat straddling his lap as she looked deeply into his dark eyes. Lowering her lips to his ear, she whispered huskily,

"Because I might do something I'll regret." Without another warning, she slipped her tongue in his ear. She grinned as she felt him shift under her.

"Trish," she heard him groan. She pulled back and looked at him innocently. She purposely rubbed against his package as she ran her fingers lightly on his exposed chest.

"Yes, Dave?"

"We cant take this too far," he uttered lowly. His fingers tightened on her waist to keep her still.

"We wont take this too far," she promised, cocking her head to the side. "As soon as you want to stop, we'll stop." Inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was scared to take things too far, but she was thankful she wouldn't have to be the one who had to put a halt to this.

Dave nodded as he his hands found their way under her shirt. Trish arched her back as she felt his fingers across her back. Her mind grew clouded as she felt something warm and wet caress her neck. She gripped his head as he continued his journey from her jaw to her collarbone and back again, leaving a wet trail behind. None of this, however, compared to the wetness between her thighs. She moaned out loud as she felt his erection pressing against her. It was rubbing right where it shouldn't be. She cursed herself for promising such a thing to him. She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to keep her end of the bargain.

Dave growled in the back of his throat as she continued to move her hips on top of him. How was he ever going to be able to stop this? He dismissed the thought as he made his way to the top of her shirt. He would worry about that later. He hardened the tip of his tongue as he traced the hem of her shirt. Withdrawing a hand from her back, he slowly pulled down the straps of her thin shirt to find a bright pink bra covering her ample breasts.

"I'm guessing you're matching?" he whispered.

Trish expelled a deep breath. "I always match." She let her head fall back as she felt him dip his tongue in her cleavage. Her eyes rolled back as she felt his hot breath igniting a fire deep inside her. Before she knew what had happened, she found herself on her back. She looked up at the man above her. His eyes were filled longing.

His hands gripped her thighs to guide her legs around him. She lifted her hips to meet his as he took her hands and held them above her head. He held her hands easily in one as his other hand caressed her.

His fingers stroked her neck softly, placing a light trail of kisses afterwards. Trish moaned as she felt his fingers sliding down at a deliciously slow pace. She held her breath as he passed the top of her pants. Would he? Trish held back a disappointed sigh as he skipped over her altogether and ran his hand down the side of her thigh instead. She barely had time to catch her breath as he made his way back up. This time, he slid his finger underneath her pants. She struggled to break free from his hold, but he only held her tighter. His finger skimmed over her softly, leaving Trish in a state of euphoria. What would it feel like if he really touched her? The lace of her panties did nothing to hide her excitement.

Dave clenched his teeth as he saw her expression turn into one of desperation as he barely touched her. She was wet. There was no denying that. He was hard. There was no denying that either. He let her hands go as he raised himself off her. If he went any farther, he wouldn't be able to stop. And as willing as she was right now, Trish wasn't ready for him.

"I don't want to, but we should stop."

Trish swallowed hard. He was right. They were going too fast. He said he didn't sleep with women he didn't know. And how well could they know each other after only two dates?

"You're right," she whispered, hoarsely. They both deserved more then just casual sex.

"So should I go?" Dave looked at the beautiful woman who seemed torn. He hated starting something and not finishing it. But it was for the best.

"I don't want you to."

Dave smiled at her softly. "Believe me sweetie, the last thing I want to do is leave."

Trish returned his smile. She raised herself up until she was kneeling by his side. She placed a gentle kiss on his temple. "But maybe you should."

Dave nodded. After a couple of seconds, he lifted himself up and took her hand. They walked to the door and looking at each other in the dim light. Carefully, Dave brought his hand up and brushed away a strand of hair. He cupped her face as he brought his lips to hers. Their tongues tangled against each other until Dave finally pulled back. His lips curved into that irresistible smile until Trish finally looked away.

"Good night." She raised herself on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent one last time. She wanted to remember everything about him as she fell asleep at night.

"Good night sweetheart." He gave her one last squeeze as she loosened her hold on him. He turned and opened the door. Taking one last look at her, Dave shut the door softly and sighed. He didn't want to leave her like this. But Trish wouldn't enjoy everything he had to offer until she could finally trust him. Until then, he was willing to wait.

(X X X)

John Cena shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat of the arena. He felt sorry for the fans. How could they stand to sit in these for more then a couple of minutes? He had come here to try to clear his thoughts, but no luck. His mind kept drifting back to what had happened last night. How he had been ready to break up with Torrie. But he had found the room empty and when she had finally returned, she had said something that put a halt to all his plans.

FLASHBACK:

John had been sitting, waiting for her to come back, for about an hour now. As the minutes slowly ticked by, he grew more and more impatient until finally he heard the door open.

"Where were you?" he asked. He stopped short as he saw Torrie's tear stained face. "What's wrong?"

Torrie shook her head, a sob escaping her. "John…" She fell into his arms, her shoulders shaking.

John hugged her awkwardly. "What's wrong?"

"I was at the gym," she started shakily. "And my dad called and told me my mom was in the hospital." She buried her face in his shoulder again.

"What happened?"

Torrie hugged him close as she continued to cry. "She-she fell down the stairs, and…well he didn't give me all the details but I'm just so worried!" she cried. She held her breath to see if he bought her story. He seemed to believe her because he was stroking her back and muttering soothing words in her ear.

"Do you want me to tell them you cant make it tomorrow?" she heard him ask. Her head shot up. She wasn't going to miss any days for him. "No, I think I'll be ok. I just wish you wouldn't tell anyone. I don't want anyone to treat me all weird, you know?" John nodded.

"I just need you by my side," she said softly. Her lips curled up in a smile as he hugged her again. What an idiot. Her eyes flashed as she remembered Christy. That bitch didn't know what she was in for. She raised her head and planted a light kiss on John's lips. Without waiting for him to respond, she began to tug his shirt over his head.

John stepped back in surprise. "Are you sure about this?" he asked nervously.

"I want you to make me feel better John," she said, taking a step towards him. "You're my boyfriend, and you're the only one who can do that."

John chewed his lip as he felt her run her hands down his chest to unbutton his shorts. Hadn't he just been in Christy's room trying to her feel better? He forced himself to focus on Torrie. She needed him right now. Christy would understand. Wouldn't she?

END FLASHBACK

John let his head fall on his hands. He had screwed up. Big time. Not only had he not broken up with Torrie, he had had sex with her. His head snapped up as he heard soft footsteps approaching him.

Christy smiled brightly as she caught sight of John. Reaching him, she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"So, what happened?"

"Nothin," muttered John quickly.

Christy's smile faltered. Something wasn't right. She would have thought he would be in a better mood. Or at least act like he was happy to see her.

"Did you break up with her?"

John sighed loudly. He looked away for a second and looked back at her. "No," he said almost inaudibly.

Christy felt like she had just been punched in the stomach. "No?" she repeated.

"That's what I said," said John. He felt a surge of anger. Who was she to be pressuring him? He barely even knew her. He had been with Torrie for almost four months now. He would break up with her when he was good and ready. One look at her face, however, softened John's anger.

"Her mom had a accident," he explained. "And she was real sad about it. I couldn't break up with her."

Christy nodded numbly. "Sure, I get that." She was lying through her teeth, of course. She knew it was selfish, but she wanted John for herself. The thought of waiting made her sick to her stomach. She got up quickly and started to walk away, but John reached out and took her arm.

"You understand don't you?" he asked anxiously.

Christy shook his hand off. Turning around to face him, she felt an overwhelming urge to punch the concerned look off his face. "Did you make her feel better?" she spat.

John's eyes widened in confusion. "Huh?"

"You heard me, John. I know how you like to make people feel better. Did you fuck her?" Christy clenched her fists tightly. Her eyes bore into his clear blue ones. His gaze lowered for a split second, but that was all Christy needed.

"So you did? Fine, John, I don't want to stand in your way. Comfort her all you want."

"What the hell is wrong with you girl? Her mother just had an accident and you want me to add another problem on her?" He clenched his jaw as he glared at her. He didn't think he needed an excuse for having sex with his girlfriend.

Christy scoffed in anger. "Well I'm not gonna be happy about this, John!" she exclaimed. "Do you want me to wait around until she feels better?"

John looked away as he tried to think of a response. That was what he wanted her to do. But it wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be fair to Torrie, to have him dump her as soon as she started to feel better. It wouldn't be fair to Christy. To make her wait around while he was still with her.

"I don't know," he said finally. He looked at her. He could see the pain clearly in her eyes. "What you think?"

Christy sighed. Her heart was aching for him. She didn't know why he was affecting her this much. She didn't even like him that much a couple of days ago. What had changed?

"I don't think I can stand to watch you be with someone else," she admitted quietly.

John cringed at her reply. "But we can try. I mean, I wont sleep with her no more. And we could still chill as friends."

Christy nodded her head slowly, knowing full well how difficult it would be to be around him. Could she really stand back and watch while he was still with Torrie? Sharing a room and a bed?

He attempted a smile. "I swear I wont do nothing to her," he promised. He reached to take her into a hug, but Christy stepped back.

"I think it might be better if we just try to minimize all the touching."

She turned to walk away, trying to choke back the hopelessness swelling in her chest.

REEMA: Lol, a little stimulation never hurt anyone ;) SUPER BRITTY: Sry 4 makin u wait so long! Thank u so much 4 all ur luv. RKOANDLEGS4EVER: Aw, I'm glad u think the chaps r so good. And this is nothing compared 2 what's gonna come in the future. RANDYSGURL: Glad u think the story is good, I'll try my best! ANIMEFREAKOFNATURE: Glad u think its awesum! Thanx 4 the review. ANGELINA MCMAHON: I'm flattered u think I'm a good writer, I hope u liked the chap.

I had to get this chap up before watching Smackdown tonight. I would have been too depressed to do anything after that. Thank u all 4 takin the time 2 read.