Hello and welcome to this new story – my first Jon Moxley story! Which has been brewing in my mind since Mox dropped his promo video on Twitter back in May and had that great run in Japan. As always, please remember that this is a work of pure fiction and is not intended to be a reflection of the true character of Jonathan Good – it's simply an interpretation of a fictional Jon Moxley character set in a fictional world. I only own my OC. Hope you enjoy. Please leave a review if you do. Thanks

PS – Happy Shield Anniversary Week

I'm used to dealing with alpha males. I like dealing with alpha males. Especially when I hear them growl out my name in the bedroom. That's when I get the upper hand. And normally they don't intimidate me. Oh, they excite me - yes. Fulfill my needs - yes but as I stand in a Japanese dojo watching a six-foot-four, brooding demi-god punch and kick the shit out of a heavy bag, I must admit that I'm apprehensive.

He hasn't even acknowledged my presence and I start to wonder if I am needed at all. He looks totally bad-ass already and not in need of extra help to hone his aggression and approach to no mercy in his choice of combat sport. The noise of his fists hitting the black leather reverberates through the room. He lets out a delicious, gruff sound each time he connects, and I can already imagine his voice being be low and rough. Although his back is facing me and he is covered in a black hoodie, his frame speaks of strength and power. I can imagine his glorious musculature rippling underneath as he exerts himself during his workout.

I have an unusual job. Well, not a job per say, it's more of a lifestyle. I get to travel the world first class, stay in five-star hotels and all expenses are paid. I'm not a party girl but my job does involve sex and lots of it with totally gorgeous men. Whoever asks me what I do for a living gets the same answer, I'm a sports psychologist specialising in combat sports. I just leave the sex part out. Granted, sometimes I only use my sports psychology degree to work with clients in the traditional way. Helping them to work through any weaknesses that may hinder performance and boost their own mental toolkit to become champions. This time however, I know that talking through this guy's technique in the ring will not do. Jon Moxley has booked me to remove any soft edges he acquired after years in the PG friendly WWE. He wants to return to a time when he gave zero fucks and had death matches for fun.

I'm not alone with Jon Moxley in that dojo and I try to ignore the stares from Japanese wrestlers working out and lifting weights. The heavy bag is set in front of a huge mirror and I can see now that he must have seen me arrive twenty minutes ago and decided to leave me to wait for him. I shouldn't feel annoyed, he is paying me for my time anyway and he's not meant to treat me nicely. Quite the opposite in fact. A handsome, young Japanese man is spotting the bag for my newest client and Mox stops his workout to talk to him and they both look my way. Just for a second our eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror and his stare burns through me with heat and intensity. It's unnerving

Only a few top-class athletes have had the privilege of using my special services and I fell into it by chance a few years ago. My first client was a Middleweight Boxer, an absolute gentleman – and that was the problem. He had undeniable talent and won a lot of fights on boxing skill alone but he could not find the right level of aggression to become champion. Until I started working with him. He needed to learn how to dominate and one day in the gym, we stopped talking and started working together physically. A few sessions with me and he won his first world championship.

I'm dressed for the gym in relaxed work out gear, a crop top is covered with a loose-fitting vest and I also wear long running tights and trainers. Well, I'm not going to turn up in a gym full of men dressed for a night out am I? I've already checked into my hotel which is the height of luxury and has views across the city. A black limousine brought me here at the agreed time and now here I am awaiting my client's attention.

The young man hands Mox a towel and shouts something in Japanese to the rest of the people in the Gym. He waves his hand and I guess that he is telling them to vacate the room. Quickly the room starts to clear. I take a deep breath and watch Mox, who still has his back to me. His apprentice approaches me and bows.

"Greetings Miss, I am Shota. Mr Moxley will be ready for you shortly but he respectively asks that you give me your phone and hotel key for safekeeping." He holds out his hand. "I will return when you are done.

Alarm bells ring. That's not something I've ever agreed to. In fact, it's an outrageous risk that I am not sure I am willing to take, despite the spoils I am about to receive.

I shake my head. "Please tell Mr Moxley that I can't agree to that, "I say.

"Shota looks worried and whispers back to me. "Mr Moxley is very particular about this condition. Please, he is not used to being told no and I think it will reflect badly on you if you do not do as he asks."

The boy is very polite and in an awkward situation. Hell, it seems both of us are. Shota tries with me again. "I promise that I will return both to you afterwards, when you are ready to go back to your hotel."

I think about this rationally. We've both signed an NDA, my copy of which is with my lawyer so it's not like no one knows where I am. There is a line of safety for me.

As I contemplate my decision, Mox's voice rings out as deep, gruff and honey laden as I imagined. It sends a dangerous thrill straight through me.

"Is there fucking problem, Shota?"