Authors Note - The morning after is here. FF seemed to have a funny couple of days and I couldn't post anything. Having said that, I wrote and re-wrote this chapter four times before I settled on this version, I hope you guys like what I've come up with.
Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. I'm glad everyone was honest. We all like different things, and have different perspectives on what we deem as a good story. It was my first sex scene, and I found it very difficult to write. Some people liked what I wrote very much, others thought I'd gone too far, which is fine. Honesty is what I appreciate. As ever, I own nothing and no-one...
As if emerging from a warm fog, Trish gently roused into being awake. It felt as though Trish were floating on her back, the warm waves of an ocean lapping her ever so gently towards the shore, ripples of warmth caressing every inch of exposed skin, finally resting on the golden sand, pure and radiating heat. Only it wasn't sand Trish was resting on. Carefully arching her back, pushing her chest forward, Trish immediately felt the warm, hard body next to her.
In a slow fluid motion, Trish swept her hand upwards, her fingers tracing their way across a huge thigh muscle, gliding to the hips, and travelling up and over the abdomen to rest on the chiselled chest muscle. This was better than sand.
Allowing her eyes to open, Trish became accustomed to her hotel room, which hazily formed in her eyes. It was just as she had left it, covered with removed clothing and empty bottles of beer. And she wasn't alone. Looking up into the face of her male companion, Trish's felt a flutter deep in her stomach.
He was beautiful. From the soft brown eyelashes resting on the pillows of his cheeks, to the soft pink mounds that made up his lips, and the contours of a hard, perfected body. Whilst sleeping, Randy Orton seemed to have an other-world aura to him, as though he were a living Greek statue of the Adonis. Trish felt the warmth of his body one of the most attractive things she had ever known, revelling in the feeling of his arm which was still wrapped around body, with his hand hanging easily across her hip.
Resting her chin on his shoulder, Trish was content to just lay here, in the comfort of Randy's arms, staring into the face of what was easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen, enjoying the constant and steady rise and fall of his chest. Knowing her feelings were basked in the glow of fuzzy feelings emanating from the night they had spent together, Trish wanted to live in this moment for as long as she could. As ever, it couldn't last.
Softly, Randy began to stir, almost as though he knew he was being watched. The feeling of being spent returned to his limbs first, an good ache in the pit of his stomach. Every muscle in his body felt as though it had been stretched out to the point of relaxation. What he loved the most was the feeling of her body next to his. Even before he had awoken, he knew on some level Trish was there with him, they were intertwined, giving him a sense of security that he had never felt before. The smile touched his lips long before he opened his eyes.
Both icy blue orbs appeared from beneath the soft lashes, focusing on the ceiling as they readjusted to the morning light. Gently angling his head, his eyes took in Trish, staring at him with those chocolate brown orbs which could make him melt like no other. Randy loved this moment, that single fleeting couple of seconds where you were in-between waking and being awake, where all you could do was act on instinct, and feel, rather than think. The smile set on his face remained as Randy lent forward, slowly melting his lips against Trish's. It was a soft, lingering kiss, expressing feelings and emotions that had been shared and those that were unsaid. Gently pulling back, Randy opened his eyes, finally coming back to being awake.
All at once, his mind took over, screaming at him in indignation.
What the fuck are you doing Orton? Rule number two! RULE NUMBER TWO!
With a growing sense of horror, Randy remembered what Rule Number Two entailed. It was simple : You never, ever woke up the next morning with the fuck from the night before - even if she is Trish Stratus. You just don't do it. In one night of unrelenting passion, Randy had for-gone all the rules he had ever set himself. His need of conquest was to be his own undoing, and he had broken one of the golden rules. He had woken up in the arms of Trish Stratus.
With not so much as a word, Randy slid his arm out from under Trish, getting into a seated position. The feeling of Trish's body laying on his arm now became replaced by a numb agony. With the blood to his arm restricted, his surgically repaired elbow was throbbing in a muted anger. Gritting his teeth, Randy tried desperately to move his shoulder from its lock state, whimpering as he did so. Cradling his arm to his chest, Randy screwed his eyes shut against the building pain.
Trish, her face awash with confusion, carefully pulled the bed sheet up and around her torso, before sitting up behind Randy. Guessing what was causing him so much discomfort, Trish gently reached out her hands, placing them on Randy's throbbing shoulder. With the all the tenderness she could manage, Trish slowly began to massage the surrounding muscle with her hands, gently plying the tissue out of its tensed, lock state. Groaning at the pain, Randy gripped the bed sheets with his free hand, trying to block out the intense agony washing over him waves. More than once, he wanted to cry out and make Trish stop, but refused. He couldn't show weakness, not to her.
Gradually, the pain began to ebb away, allowing the blood to freely circulate once more through the shoulder muscle. Keeping the same constant, circular motions, Trish continued to work on the area, finally working the feeling back into the tissue. Contented it was better, Trish removed her hands, resting them on her own lap. Still with his back to her, Randy attempted to rotate his shoulder, before sliding off the bed, allowing the bed sheet to drop from his body. Standing in the nude, Trish's eyes swept over the delicious round of his bottom, finding it rested perfectly on top of his massive thighs.
Without turned around, Randy dropped to the ground, launching into a set of push ups, exhaling between gritted teeth as he resumed to his locked arm position. After thirty of the hard manoeuvres, Randy returned to his feet, visibly searching for his cloths. Feeling the situation more than a little uncomfortable, Trish dropped onto to the bed, turning her back on Randy. Raising her knees to bring her into a foetal position, the sinking feeling in Trish's body seemed to fall all the way from her head to her toes. This was the moment she had been dreading, since she first heard the stories about him. The part where she knew she was done with, already old news. She had just been another notch on his bed post, another piece of ass he could joke about with his buddies, just another girl laying alone and confused.
Feeling tears sting the back of her eyes, Trish bitterly refused to cry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Trish knew she had gone into this with her eyes open. This had been her choice. She had known who Randy Orton was, what he did to girls he slept with. One night of mind-numbing pleasure followed by the absence of respect. She was nothing to him now.
I finally gave in. After fighting so hard for so long to keep myself safe for hurt, I caved to him.
Trish could already imagine the reactions of her Lisa and - god, Candice…she will never forgive me. What have you done Trish? Stirring behind her back caused Trish to role over and see Randy looking at her.
Slipping his t-shirt over his body, Randy was now fully clothed again. Almost hesitantly, he looked back at Trish's tiny body, seeing that she was staring back at him, hurt reflected in her warm eyes. Part of him wanted to leap back into that bed and hold her body close to him, and never let go, and to kiss all the hurt away.
But that wouldn't happen.
That is not who I am. Randy Orton doesn't do mornings after, and he certainly doesn't do feelings. I'm the Legend Killer. This is what I do. Love them and leave them.
Almost like a mantra, Randy repeated these words over and over again in his head, trying to convince himself of what he was about to doYes, he had wanted to be with Trish Stratus, and it had been by far the most explosive sex he have ever had. But that's all it had been. Pure, physical gratification. Looking into her pleading eyes, Randy knew if he walked out of this room now, he would never get back in again. Trish would herself from him, and probably everyone else. Was this something he could so easily give up?
Why do you care? You going all pussy in your old age? You went through all that fucking trouble to ride her, not cuddle and be all loving with her. Get a grip Orton. You're the Legend Fucking Killer. She's just another piece of ass you've tasted. Move on.
Randy slowly dipped his head in the direction of Trish.
"Thanks baby girl. You were hot." With a trademark smile, Randy headed towards the door. The tugging in his chest forced Randy to glance over his shoulder one more time, to see Trish burying her head into hands, before he closed the door behind him, leaving her very much alone.
Trish sat in silence for what seemed the longest time, just looking at the door. And that was it. He was gone. After all the fighting and put downs, the comments and sexual tension, Randy had simply taken what he wanted, and gone. And where did that leave Trish?
Sniffing back the tears that threatened to spill, Trish grabbed her cell phone from the floor below. Flipping it open, Trish dialled the number of the only person she knew who would understand.
"It's me. Can you stop by? I think I've done something really stupid…"
Smiling in silent gratitude of the affirmation that they would be right there, Trish let the phone slip out of her hand to the soft bed below, a single tear following the same path down her cheek. Both eyes focused on the door opposite her, all Trish could do was stare blankly.
On the other side of the door, Randy rested his back, eyes closed. All the time he had been the Legend Killer, he had never regretted anything he had ever done. Until now. Why was he so beaten up by this woman? What did she have that none of the other didn't?
She makes me feel.
That was something no-one else had ever done. No other girl had ever made him feel anything close to what Trish did. Randy didn't know what he felt for Trish, but it was something he wanted to explore. Getting off the door, Randy span, around raising his hand to hammer on the door.
His knuckles less than an inch away from the door, Randy stopped.
Is she worth all this? Is it worth trusting someone who's not me? You've worked fine for all these years without someone else. What could Trish do other than disappoint you? Maybe its better to have the memory of what could have been, instead of what shouldn't have been.
A look of sadness crossed Randy's face, but was chased away by the stony emotionless expression he had perfected. Sighing, Randy shoved his hands in his pockets, the Legend Killer winning over as he trudged silently down the hallway, the over head lights shutting off one by one as he faded into being out-of-sight, leaving the hall in darkness.