"You're so amazing."

Her breath sent a jolt of need straight to his groin and it was all he could do to keep his hands still at his sides. His fingertips itched at the thought of touching her.

But no, he had to be patient. As much as her slow, lazy kisses tortured him, it felt good. It felt better than anything Randy Orton had felt in a long time.

Her fingers traced a circle on his bare chest, a sweet smile appearing on her face when his muscles jumped.

"Stacy," he warned his voice husky. Tentatively, he brought his hands to her waist, applying only the lightest of touches. He couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as she rolled her hips against him.

"Stace," he repeated, his voice strained to the limit. His body was on fire. His skin was aware of her every caress, her every breath.

She put a finger to his lips gently, shaking her head and hushing him. "Don't talk baby." She leaned down, moving against him deliciously. Catching his lips in delicate kisses, she pulled back before he could respond fully. She bit her lip almost shyly. "How can I explain in words what you do to me?"

Randy swallowed hard. Her voice was barely audible, but damned if he wasn't hanging onto her every word. Not trusting himself to speak, he merely smiled and tucked a blond hair behind her ear, his heart beating faster when she turned and snuggled against his hand. Cupping her cheek, he ran the pad of his thumb across her lips.

She flicked her tongue out, catching him off guard, coyly looking down at her hands which had now resumed tracing slow circles on him. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of her hands, going dangerously closer… closer…

His eyes snapped open as he heard a loud knocking. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes groggily.

Looking down at his boxers, he saw the very real effect the dream had on him.

Another loud knock interrupted his thoughts as he got up. He made sure to position himself behind the door.

"What?"

"Hi Randy!"

Her voice made him cringe as he kept his hold on the door. "What do you want?"

Candice Michelle only smiled brightly as she placed a hand on her hip. "Well, we haven't really been hanging out anymore," she paused as she noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. "And I just woke up this morning… in this mood." She flashed him a devilish smile.

"I don't feel like having company right now," retorted Randy.

"I just thought you might wanna hang out… cuz you know… we haven't done anything and Maria told me you guys haven't done anything either." She shrugged. "Just thought you might be getting a little lonely."

"I appreciate your concern," said Randy sarcastically. "But I'm getting a little tired of the same fuck. So go take your generosity and free time and find someone else." He closed the door hard, making sure to lock it.

A low growl escaped him as he kicked at the low coffee table.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, realizing being barefoot and kicking solid objects wasn't a good combination.

He limped to the kitchen, angry at the fact that he had been pulled out of a great dream only to be having a horrible morning.

Sitting down heavily on a stool, he let his head rest on his arms. It had been a whole week and he still remembered every miniscule detail.

He trembled at the thought of her in a towel. Had it been any other situation, he would have torn that thing off before she knew what was happening.

But he couldn't. Instead of taking advantage of a broken woman, he had been overwhelmed by the urge to comfort her.

Which was strange in itself. Randy Orton was a heartless bastard. He relished the power and control he had over his life and the women around him.

His eyes tightened against the image that seemed to pervade him. The last time he had ever been that gentle with a living thing was when he was eight. When he held his dying dog in his arms, hoping against hope he would live.

But even as he prayed with all his might, even while he promised to an invisible force that he would be a good son, and bring his grades up, and stop teasing the kids at school, life had been slowly slipping away.

Randy shook his head. Never again had his hands been so careful, so cautious, so gentle.

Until her.

Bringing his hands down hard on the tabletop, he gave a heavy sigh, allowing his head to roll back in frustration.

He had held her just as tenderly. Like she was about to die. Because in truth, Stacy had looked like she was torn in two on the inside. He remembered being slightly surprised when she had melted into his arms readily. After all his harsh words, all the threatening and insults he had spewed at her, he had expected retaliation.

But she spoke no words. Her shoulders shook with silent tears as she tried to hold in her sobs. That tore at his heart. The soft whimpers she would make, as if embarrassed he was seeing her like this. He wanted to tell her to let go, to scream and yell at him, but instead he said nothing as he stroked her back.

He had been aroused, as she trembled under his hands. He had been angry with himself, that he couldn't control his desires.

But the softness of her skin at his fingertips, the heat of her body pressed right against him, the smell of her just minutes after she had showered, had been too much.

So he had left. Got up and left her with tears in her eyes, and muttered something about being late.

He let his head fall to the table. What the hell was his problem? He saw an emotionally broken woman and all he could think about was her lips and how much he wanted to capture them. Her thighs and how much he wanted to feel them. Her voice and how much he wanted to hear her calling his name in ecstasy as he gave her exactly what her body craved…

He took a deep breath as he looked down at his boxers again.

He needed to take a shower.

A very, very cold shower.

(X X X)

Her eyes glazed over as she continued to stare out into the city. This was the second episode she would be missing. She hadn't thought about how much she would miss the arenas. The screaming fans. The people she had become friends with wishing her good luck before she stepped into the ring.

A painful lump formed in her throat as the familiar stinging began in the back of her eyes. She wouldn't cry again. She had done enough crying to last her a lifetime.

Christy Hemme closed her eyes briefly before letting out a long breath. There was nothing she could do. She had talked to Teddy, he had told her she needed help. She had talked to Dawn, who had broken down crying before asking why she hadn't come to her with her problems. And she had talked to Vince. Who had told her she would be taping her last show next week. In the most embarrassing storyline imaginable.

After cutting a short promo of her and Torrie trash talking each other backstage, they would face off in a bra and panties match. The winner would get a shot at the woman's belt at Survivor series just a few weeks away. Christy would then go insane. She would be picked up by two guys in white coats, in front of more then 14,000 fans. She would be forgotten as just another diva search contestant.

A grim smile pulled at her lips. Poor John. Not only had he been persistent in his attempts to clear her name, he had been running himself ragged with being WWE champ. And it showed. He was being so irritable lately.

Of course he always had his ways of making it up to her…

As hard as she tried, she couldn't remember ever being kissed the way he kissed her. A shudder went through her body as she shook her head slightly. She was on the receiving end of all his pent up aggression. All the anger he held towards Vince for making him do all those meaningless appearances. All the resentment he felt towards the writers for running his character into the ground. And all the disappointment to the fans that were slowly but surely turning their backs on him.

He had often complained to her, more like yelled really, that he had had a good gimmick in the beginning. That he liked being the controversial heel who was getting the loudest boos at every show. And now that he was face, he couldn't say anything mildly offensive. The one time he had let a "shit" slip into his promo, he had told her the producers had nearly castrated him afterwards.

Christy tucked her legs underneath her. Poor John. He was desperate for a way to really say what he wanted to say. Not the, "shit smeared on paper," they forced him to read, as he so eloquently put it one night when the boos had been particularly loud.

A sudden noise interrupted Christy's train of thought as she jerked out of her musings. When the noise persisted, growing louder every passing second, she let out a short laugh. Giving herself a minute to straighten her hair, she opened the door.

"Do you know what birth control pills look like?"

"… What?"

John shut the door behind him as he brushed past Christy, collapsing on the couch nearby.

"Birth control pills; do you know what they look like?"

Christy's brows furrowed. "Yea, why?"

John patted his knee, indicating that he wanted her to join him. Christy shook her head and sat on the small chair, eyeing him.

John uttered a frustrated sigh as he rolled his eyes. "They want me to go out tomorrow night and smile like an idiot again," he stated.

"Why don't you just tell them you want to try something new with your character?"

John snorted. "Sweetheart, I've told them every way I can think of. They keep refusing because they think the fans still like me. I asked them if they listened to the crowd reaction at the last houseshow and they all looked at me like I was a dumbass."

"Maybe they've got something big planned," tried Christy.

"Don't even talk about that shit anymore," said John, his lips curling up in disgust. "The only big thing they have planned is coming up with another way to make me look like more of a pussy."

"Why did you ask me about birth control pills?" asked Christy suddenly.

A smirk crept onto John's face as he leaned forward. "I was looking through Torrie's things-"

"You were what?" asked Christy, swatting his arm. "You cant look through a woman's personal things!"

"Like you care," countered John, smiling when Christy fell silent. "That's what I thought. So anyways, I was lookin' through her stuff, and I found a bottle. It was some pills for headaches or something. I was about to put it back when I remembered her taking them before. They were small and white. These pills were long and purple. Then I thought they were birth control pills because, I gotta admit this, Torrie enjoys daily sex. But then I remembered I had this one friend in college who sold drugs out of his pockets. He advertised some pills as "purple royalty" or something. They were ecstasy."

Christy's breath caught in her throat. "That- that was-"

"The drug you tested positive for," finished John. She opened her mouth to say something but he stopped her. "That's not all. I got one of the pills on me right now, but when I was puttin' the bottle back, her phone rang. I didn't answer but I looked at the number and I had no idea who the hell it was. She hadn't put a name on it yet, so I looked at her incoming calls and that same number showed up at least twenty different times in the past week. So I called the number on the hotel's phone and guess who answered?"

"Who?" asked Christy, breathlessly.

"Kennedy," John answered proudly.

"How did you know it was him?"

"Cuz that moron answers his phone in the same voice he repeats his damn name all the time. KENNEDY," imitated John in a loud voice. "I went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat cuz I was hungry as hell with all my detective work and I bumped into Matt. We got to talkin' and guess what he told me?"

"What?" asked Christy impatiently.

John's eyes twinkled as he held his arms open. "Gotta give me some love first, girl."

Christy nearly jumped on him. "What did Matt say?"

John leaned back against the couch, content at having her in his lap. "I brought up some of the guys backstage and what he thought of all the new guys ever since he came back. He told me he was cool with all of them except a couple. JBL has really been gettin' on his back about Jeff supposedly doing drugs. Told him he knew they probably got fucked up together and it was only a matter of time 'fore a drug test got him fired just like his bro. I asked him if anyone else was givin' him beef and he mentioned our guy.

"Said Kennedy had pulled him aside and told him he could get him the hook up." John laughed. "Also told me he punched him in the face after that. He might have been jokin' about havin' the hook up," John paused, "but what if he wasn't? I mean, what a coincidence that he brags about having the hookup and his number just happens to show up on Torrie's phone?"

Christy sighed. "So how is all this going to help me clear my name?"

"It was Torrie," said John matter-of-factly.

"I thought you said she wouldn't do that," pointed out Christy.

"I was wrong," shrugged John. "I'm not perfect baby. I was just blinded by all the cleavage she showed me." He winced as Christy hit his abs. "Kiddin'… just kiddin'.

"Even if all this was true, how are we going to prove it before next week?"

"She has the pills, so that means she's gonna use them. She already drugged you so all we gotta do is wait and catch her."

"Why would anyone believe us?" asked Christy skeptically. "I mean, wont everyone just think this is some last desperate attempt to get my name cleared?"

"We'll catch it on camera or somethin'. It doesn't matter."

"It DOES matter," insisted Christy. "We might know who did it, but how are we gonna prove it?"

"We just have to wait," stated John. "All she needs is a little encouragement. When me an' her used to get into big fights I would leave and come back to find her passed out. She drinks her sorrows away. An' now that she's got that drug she'll use that. All I gotta do is get into a big fight with her."

Christy shook her head exasperated. "John, we might be able to catch her on drugs, but-"

"You look so cute when you're worried," interrupted John, placing a small kiss on her cheek.

Christy wiggled out of his grasp only to be pulled back again. "This isn't as easy as you make it sound, John. What if-"

She was silenced as he coyly slid his tongue inside her mouth. A sigh escaped her lips as she felt her body immediately respond. His hand slipped under her shirt as he let his fingertips lightly trail over her bare skin.

"John…" breathed Christy as his lips latched onto her neck, sucking lightly. "This isn't the time… nor the place…"

"It's always the time and the place," whispered John against her neck.

Christy groaned as she forced his head up. "We need to figure this out if you ever want to get some real action." John groaned dramatically as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

"Fine, baby girl. We finish playin' detective before we start playin' nurse and patient." He smiled slyly. "An' I know exactly where I'ma be hurtin'."

(X X X)

Trish Stratus picked at her nails absently. Her foot tapped monotonously against the leg of the low coffee table as another loud squeal was heard.

She winced, trying hard not to be bothered by the conversation taking place behind the row of lockers a few feet away from her.

"So they told me I was going to be wrestling Victoria today and I was gonna get the shot for the woman's championship before Survivor Series. I've been here for like, a couple of months, and it's really time they started to pay more attention to me. They should seriously give that belt a new waist to rest on."

A deep knot of anger formed in Trish's gut as her foot started to tap against the table a bit harder.

"If you win, you need to start color coordinating your outfits so you look good. You could even change the belt if they let you! That thing is too old fashioned anyways. You can get a pink strap instead of the black one."

Trish's mouth began to ache as she pressed her teeth together to keep from screaming.

"They really need to let go of some of the older divas. I mean really, they've had their time to shine and it's time to let the younger girls get a chance. Who wants to see a bunch of old ladies wrestling anyways, right?"

Trish pushed herself off the couch as she made her way over to source of the voices.

"You're three years younger than me, Candice," she snapped as both Maria and Candice stared at her with wide eyes.

"And you look even older then me with all that crap you put on your face. Listen sweetie, if you ever feel the need to talk shit about any of the other divas behind our backs, at least make sure your stupid ass is alone."

Candice backed away as Trish advanced. "Because I would personally love to see an old lady beat your ass down to doing pornos again." She smiled at Candice's shocked expression. "That's what you were doing before you found yourself with Vince's dick in your mouth for a job, isn't it?"

Turning on her heel, Trish slammed the door behind her as she stalked away from the women's locker room.

It was time to talk to Hunter.

(X X X)

The tall blonde winced as the click of her heels seemed to echo loudly down the endless hallway. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she tried to make as little noise as possible. The last thing she wanted was to come face to face with-

"Good to have you back Miss Keibler."

Stacy bit her lip as she forced a smile and waved at a crew member.

"Hi Jesse."

He looked around, confused. "Um… why are you whispering?"

"I-I have a really bad headache," she lied.

He nodded. "Well maybe you should talk to the trainer."

"No, I'll be fine. I think I just need sit down for a while."

"See you around then."

"Sure." Stacy watched as he went in through a door. Letting out a deep breath she raised a shaky hand to her forehead. Was he looking at her strange? Did he know? Would he tell anyone if he knew?

Letting a sigh of frustration slip past her lips, Stacy began to walk slowly to the women's locker room. If she could get in there, she would be safe. All the other divas would be somewhere else getting ready for their segments.

Her breath hitched as she heard loud footsteps about to turn the corner. A wave of nausea took hold of her stomach as she realized who it was.

"I got hurt yesterday rehearsing, but I think I can pull this match off."

Greg was getting closer as Stacy looked around for an escape. Spotting a door to her near right, she tried the doorknob, relieved to find it turned easily in her hand. Being as quiet as possible, she slipped in and barely managed to close it before the duo spotted her.

She heard Rosey say something about letting him do most of the work before fading away.

Her forehead resting against the door, Stacy willed the tears away. A mouse. She was acting like a scared little mouse. She had barely had contact with anyone after that incident a week ago. Chris had called, probably to see if she wanted to rendezvous again, but she had ignored him. She hadn't gone out of her hotel room and had taken an early flight to today's location. There was no doubt in her mind that Randy had told everyone.

A soft scuffle behind her caught her attention as she stiffened. She wasn't alone.

"Hiding?"

She turned around to find him in a track suit. Noting the pack of cigarettes in his hand, she focused her eyes on that. She couldn't look him in the eye. Not yet.

"I didn't know you smoked," she managed to say.

Randy shrugged, looking down at the carton as if seeing it for the first time.

A heavy silence hung in the air as Stacy grew increasingly uncomfortable. Noticing her surroundings, she realized she had stepped into the control room. The soft glow of the monitors cast the room in an eerie light as the quiet whir of dozens of machines was heard faintly.

"They all go around making sure people are ready at about this time," Randy stated.

Stacy looked down at her hands as her face grew warmer. All week she had been trying to ignore him. And here she was, alone in a dark room with him without anyone's knowledge.

"You've been avoiding me," Randy said, dully. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Why?"

A sarcastic laugh escaped Stacy before she could think to reign it in. "You can't possibly be serious with that question."

Randy straightened his shoulders, eyes looking fiercely into hers, scowling when she still refused to meet them.

"I wouldn't ask if I already knew the answer."

Stacy shook her head slowly, unwilling to let him see how fast he could get to her. Everything would be fine if she just kept her cool.

"You saw me at my worst, Randy. Why would I ever want to see you again?"

Her words struck him hard. He took a second to compose himself before sneering at her. "I've seen worse, Stace. Don't consider yourself too memorable."

Stacy blushed at his comment. "And you wonder why I avoid you? Every time I talk to you I feel like shit."

His eyes softened. Through the subtle light, he could barely see her face, but he could tell how much effort it was taking her to keep still and not bolt.

"It's one of those bad habits of mine," he said, giving her a half smile. He chuckled. "I guess that's why woman always run from me."

Stacy rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You get more ass then you know what to do with."

The beginnings of a smirk started on Randy's lips but he forced himself to keep it at bay. Taking a small step towards her, he nodded.

"I guess what I mean to say is, I may have all the woman in the world, but sometimes it doesn't matter."

She raised a brow. Was he joking? Taking in his somber expression, she decided he wasn't. How strange…

"Sometimes its nice to know the name of the woman you're fucking."

Her face fell at his words. Nope, still the same jerk.

"You're really an asshole," she said, pressing her back against the wall as he got closer. The air almost crackled with electricity. She felt the blood pulsing through her as she caught the scent of his cologne.

"I thought women went for assholes," murmured Randy. His palms were sweating. His eyes were intent on her face, eager for the reaction he yearned for. But she kept her eyes downcast.

"You thought wrong," whispered Stacy. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat of his body. They were less than a foot apart. She could feel tiny beads of perspiration forming at the nape of her neck. Her mind screamed at her to run away from the person who caused her so much hurt. But her legs were rooted to the ground.

Randy felt a familiar tightening in his boxers as his nostrils flared at the scent of her. "I had a dream about you."

Stacy swallowed hard as she nodded faintly. She licked her dry lips before speaking. "And?"

Randy smirked as he slowly ran a single finger down her arm. She shuddered at his touch moving away slightly. "You were doing things to me." Finally taking another step, he pressed his forehead to hers. Her whole body was trembling in expectation.

"You were touching me. Telling me how I make you feel." He paused as he heard her moan softly. Taking this as a signal to go ahead, he placed his hands on her waist. "I was just about to show you how hard I was when I woke up."

Feeling her whole body tensing as he lowered his head, she pulled back. "This isn't going to happen again, Randy."

Ignoring her, he let his tongue trail slowly down her neck.

Stacy's eyes glazed as her knees went weak. "Oh God…"

"There's no one that can make you feel like this, Stace." He pulled back to cup her chin and make her meet his eyes. "You know this."

Vivid scenes of the multiple times they had been intimate together flashed through her mind as hazel eyes locked with cold blue. Her body went numb to his continued caresses as she saw herself after every time. Crying. Broken. Miserable.

"Get away from me." Displaying strength she didn't know she had, Stacy wrenched herself away from him.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Stacy asked sarcastically. "What's wrong?" she shrieked. "You've made my life a living hell since the moment I started talking to you!"

"Don't blame this all on me," retorted Randy, growing defensive. "If you hadn't spread your legs every time I even hinted I wanted you, maybe you would still have friends."

Not a word was said as the two stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, after unbearable silence, Randy said something he hadn't said in almost three years.

"I'm sorry."

Turning his back to her quickly, he dug in his pants for a lighter. He managed to hold a cigarette to his lips and light it. Taking a long drag, he let the smoke out in a heavy sigh.

"You're what?"

He whirled around, stalking to her so fast, she thought he would walk right into her.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, lips curled in disgust even as he said it. "Is that what you wanted to hear? You want me to act like a little bitch just so you wont get your feelings hurt?"

"I-I wasn't-"

"Save it," he snarled, yanking the door open. "This is the last time I'll be bothering you."

(X X X)

She wasn't taking this bullshit anymore. She had been trying to ignore the state the woman's division was in for the past few months. But if they thought she would even entertain the thought of losing her title to someone like Candice, they were dead wrong.

Determination was plain in the face of the small diva as she made her way to Hunter's locker room. He would be there. He rarely went out unless he had a match or a segment. Nobody liked him, and he didn't like nobody. It was really for the best. If Hunter ever started paying special attention to any one person, it was usually bad news.

Her steps slowed gradually as she grew closer to his door. Lip caught between her teeth, she pondered her options. Sure, she had been angry when she had heard what they were saying. But was the situation so grave that she needed the help of the Cerebral Assassin?

Her eyes flashed at the thought of Victoria jobbing to any of the diva search girls. Yes. She needed to do this for all the women who were passionate about wrestling.

She took a deep breath as she raised her hand to knock.

"What are you doing?"

She froze as she recognized the voice. Hell if she had could ever forget it.

She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder whirl her around. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him.

"I asked you a question Trish."

"Is this any of your business Dave?" she retorted curtly. Her cheeks heated as he towered over her. His glasses hid his eyes, but she could tell he was pissed.

"Do you know whose locker room this is?" he asked coldly, motioning to the door behind her.

Trish rolled her eyes, trying her hardest not to let herself be intimidated. "I know how to read."

"Than you must not be thinking straight." He gripped her arm not tightly, but enough to let her know he wasn't playing. "Going in there is like selling your soul to the devil, Trish. It's not a game."

Trish let out a sarcastic laugh. "Actually, that's exactly what it is Dave. He's the game and I think it's time for me to start playing."

Dave's lips curved into a cynical smile. "You think that's cute, huh? You think he's just gonna hand you everything he promises? C'mon Trish, don't make me change my opinion of you."

Trish's eyes widened as she tried to tear herself out of his grasp. He didn't let go however, instead bringing her closer.

"What the hell would I care what your opinion of me is?"

"Don't give me that," snorted Dave. "At the risk of sounding chauvinistic, I know your feelings toward me."

A furious blush took hold of Trish and the fact that she knew she looked like a tomato only made her more embarrassed.

"It doesn't matter what the hell my feelings towards you are," she snapped, all the while trying to escape from his hard hold. "What I do with my life, personal and business, have nothing to do with you."

She gasped as he pulled her against his chest.

"Just one question Trish. Are you going to listen to reason?" His hot breath washed over her as she shivered against her will.

"Your reasoning is fucked up." Her eyes widened as he swooped down. "What are you doing?"

Taking her arm, he draped it over his shoulder as he leaned down to wrap his arm around her butt. He stood suddenly, and Trish found herself being lifted into the air with him.

"Put me down!" She wiggled to try to get herself free. But he only tightened his hold.

"Dave this isn't funny!" she exclaimed, small hands pounding on his broad back. She almost choked on her words when she felt his hand come down swiftly on her ass.

"We're going to my locker-room Trish. There we can sit down and discuss your business decisions like two adults."

"You call this mature?"asked Trish, her bottom still stinging from the impact.

"You brought this on yourself," he said, an amused twinge in his voice.

"You've got to be fucken kidding me Dave. I-"

She was silenced once again with another heavy spank. Tears sprang to her eyes as she forced them down. This shouldn't be happening right now. She should be completely indignant that he was treating her like a child. But the only thing she was feeling was the heat between her thighs growing increasingly warmer with every step he took.

She heard him open the door and kept still. She barely had time to think before she found herself set on a couch. She immediately crossed her arms across her chest, glaring up at him silently.

"Don't look at me like that sweetheart," he said, cupping her chin with his finger. She jerked her chin out of his grasp stubbornly, instinctively sticking her lower lip out.

Dave groaned. "How am I supposed to lecture you on what a big mistake you were about to make when you look like I just ran over your puppy?"

"You're not supposed to lecture me at all," Trish snapped. She shrank back involuntarily when he shot her a hard look.

"You should be thanking me. You don't know Hunter like I do. That guy will tell you he can give you the world, but he never tells you when. And by the time you get it, all the bullshit you went through makes it seem meaningless."

"So this is what I get for trying to make something out of the woman's division?" fumed Trish, standing up. "I get spanked because I'm trying to keep girls who don't know what the hell they're doing out of the ring?"

"Listen," said Dave lowly. "I'm not trying to knock you for that. In fact, if you went to anybody else besides Hunter, I'd encourage you. But sweetie, this guy is bad news. No matter what he says."

Trish nearly jumped when he placed a hand on her waist.

"You're not gonna completely disregard my advice, are you?"

Trish rolled her eyes, trying her hardest to ignore the tingling sensation his hand was causing.

"I wouldn't call it advice, Dave. It comes off as more of a command." She placed her own hands on her waist, brushing his off.

Dave shook his head as he chuckled. "You're a stubborn one, Trish."

"Don't confuse stubborn with having the balls to do what's right," retorted Trish.

A slow smile crept over the big mans face as Trish grew anxious. She needed to get out of here. She needed to splash some cold water on her face or something . Her skin prickled as Dave licked his lips.

"You know what I like about you Trish?" he asked suddenly.

Trish eyed him warily. "What?"

He stepped back as he motioned to himself. "Look at me, and look at you."

She raised a brow.

"I'm big Trish. I've got a couple hundred pounds on you and at least a foot." He stepped close to her again and placed his hand on her lower back, making her gasp softly. "I can easily throw you over my shoulder again and spank that little behind of yours until you're begging for me to stop." He let his hand wander so it was resting on her butt. He gave it a hard pinch, pausing to smirk when he heard a muffled moan escape her lips. "You know this don't you? And yet you still stand up to me as if a Chick Kick would really knock me out. That, sweetheart," his other hand wrapped around her neck as he brought their lips close, "is very admirable."

Trish felt herself growing weak as he pressed their bodies closer. After what seemed like hours, she felt his tongue slide across her bottom lip. Her mouth opened before she could even think twice. He wasted no time as he slid his tongue in, demanding a reaction out of her.

Trish's senses were almost flooded with pleasure. Both his hands were on her butt now, pushing her into him. His lips overpowered her, making her back arch as he kissed her harder.

A sudden fire erupted in Trish as she brought her hands to his face, not willing to let the kiss end.

After minutes of frenzied kissing, both superstars tore themselves away. Trish breathed heavily as she laid her head on his chest. She smiled when she heard his ragged breathing above her and felt the wild thumping of his heart. She started as he took her shoulders and jerked her off him.

"We cant be doing this." He brought his forearm across his forehead, shaking his head. "We're supposed to be working right now. This isn't appropriate Trish."

Despite his harsh voice, Trish smiled. Poor Dave. He was struggling for control even when she had felt how much he wanted to keep doing what they were doing. She walked over to him, placing her small hands on his shoulders.

"You need to let go sometimes," she murmured, pressing her breasts against his back. He groaned as he pushed her hands off and stepped away.

"Trish…" he warned. Trish warmed as his eyes raked over her entire body, looking as if he could eat her alive. That was enough. If he wanted to drag her into his locker room and initiate something, she was making damn sure he would finish it.

Walking purposefully to where he stood, the small blond brought her hands to his chest and pushed as hard as she could. Surprised, Dave stumbled back and sat down heavily on the couch.

Intent on what she wanted, Trish placed a single finger on his lips to keep him from protesting as she brought her knees to either side of him, locking her legs to keep him from going anywhere.

"Trish-"

"Just one question, Dave," she said, grinding her hips. "Are you going to listen to reason?"

Dave gave a strained laugh as his hands settled on the back of her thighs to stop her. "Little hellion," he growled.

Smirking, Trish allowed her hands to wander down to grip his belt. Working quickly, she managed to unbuckle it before he placed a hand over hers.

"If someone were to catch us-"

"You think too much," interrupted Trish. She shook his hand off and finished unbuckling his belt. She grinned as she leaned down, making sure to let her lips brush against his ear as she whispered. "Sometimes, you gotta let yourself think with this head," she giggled as she felt his erection.

"Haven't gotten to where I am now by thinking like a dick," Dave said in a strained voice. He brought his hands to tangle in her hair as her tongue teased the lobe of his ear. Pulling her head back sharply, he jerked her lips to his in an animalistic kiss. He groaned loudly as she sucked on his tongue, sending the sensation straight down into his boxers.

"Dave…" Trish whimpered as he wrapped her hair around his hand tightly. His other hand roamed from her waist to her chest, swiftly sliding under her shirt to unclasp her strapless bra. Trish moaned as she felt him slid it down under her shirt. Her nipples were hard already and he had barely done anything.

"That day…" he said his voice heavy as hand crept to the front of her small tank top. "In the hospital when you basically told me to go to hell…" Trish blushed at the mention of it. She had been beyond angry and defensive.

"I didn't mean-"

"Doesn't matter now," he cut her off. Trish gasped as he cupped the underside of her breast. "What's done is done." She arched her back as he flicked his tongue against her nipple over the material of the tank top. Her knees tightened at his sides, not wanting him to stop.

"But I was a little mad you wouldn't even let me get a word in," he continued, though Trish had to fight desperately to keep herself from getting lost in what he was doing to her. Her hands went to the back of his head to press him harder. She almost screamed when he bit her.

"Although I must admit, you look incredibly sexy when you're angry." Trish bit her lip as he pushed her hips down further onto him, making her feel every inch of him.

Trish's mind grew cloudy as her hips started moving against his. He was hitting her right there… making her feel as if she was in another world. Her body raged for him, needing to feel him inside of her.

Not giving him a chance to stop her, Trish pulled his pants down as far as she could before undoing the string on her own.

"I'll be doing the honor," murmured Dave, pushing her hand away and sliding her pants down. The coarseness of his hands on the softness of her thighs made her whole body quiver in anticipation. Her breath caught in her throat as he delivered another sound slap to her ass.

Hooking his finger into her thong, his eyes met hers in a heated gaze as he slid them down as well. He cupped her, making Trish lean against him heavily.

"God you're so wet," he said raggedly. With minimal effort, Dave laid Trish on her back, hovering over her as he kissed her.

"Is this what you really want Trish?"

Trish's eyes flew open at his deep voice. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than him right now. Instead of answering, she wrapped her legs around him, giving him a hard kiss.

Dave chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes." Trish relaxed her hold on him as he pushed his boxers down. Letting out a deep moan, rich with pleasure, he let himself be buried deep inside of her.

Both superstars relished in the feeling. Trish in the fullness she felt, and Dave at the tightness enveloping him. Slowly, almost timidly, Dave began to move against her.

"Harder," whispered Trish faintly. She tightened her legs around him once again as he started moving faster. "Harder," she repeated, a little louder. She winced as he went in deep. She dug her nails into his back as he continued his slow pace.

Dave looked down as Trish closed her eyes, teeth biting her lower lip hard. A savage need took over him as he pumped into her harder.

Trish moaned as she felt him nip at her neck. She shook her head, mumbling incoherently about him leaving a mark. Unwilling to be denied, Dave bit her lip instead, shooting his tongue inside when she uttered another loud moan.

Trish rocked her hips as their bodies met again and again in unison. She could feel his need and it only added to hers. She ran her fingernails along his back, making him suck in a breath.

Dave let his forehead rest against hers as he felt himself beginning to lose grasp of reality. His movements quickened as he let a hand slid underneath her to bring her closer to him. With a last deep push, his whole body was engulfed in a strong orgasm that seemed to last forever.

Trish squeezed her eyes shut as she bit into Dave's shoulder when she felt herself release. The air was hot and heavy and made it almost impossible for her to catch a deep breath.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, pulled himself slowly out of Trish, aware that she was still sensitive. Reaching down to pull his boxers back up, he shot her a smile.

Trish returned his smile, a sudden thought crashing over her. What was going to happen now? Would he kick her out just like Randy had done so many months ago? Would he ignore her? Would he treat her like she was nothing but another lay?

Her fears were put to rest as he leaned over her again and placed a soft kiss on her swollen lips. He sat back down and lifter her up so she was straddling him once more. Pulling her panties and pants back on, Dave continued to give her gentle kisses every now and then.

Her heart swelled with tenderness as she felt his gentle hands on her. He was nothing like Randy.

"Not thinking about going behind my back and talking to Hunter now are you?"

Trish laughed. "You brought up some very good points," she said smiling. "And I'm glad we discussed my decisions like two, mature adults."

"I'm glad I could convince you," muttered Dave, pushing her hair away from her face. "Because if anything like this ever comes up again… I'm going to be forced to make you sit through my argument again."