Fifty Shades of Cena

by Keeper of Oz

John Cena has been the face of the WWE for ten years. Holding deep secrets, he struggles to maintain his image and his privacy as any cost. A chance meeting with a unique young woman guarding her own deep secrets - leaves John questioning his future. Can they learn to trust each other with their secrets or will they let it all fade away?

8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I am thrilled beyond words that so many of you are reading, reviewing, following, or adding this story to your favorites list. You guys ROCK! Special thanks to Awesomeone21, My time is now, and Taker Always, Lady Isadorra and Shamaness1171. This story has me way outside my comfort zone; your reviews let me know that I must be doing something right

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing even remotely belonging to the WWE. I am simply a fan-girl who likes to visit every now and then.

Without further ado, I give you

Chapter 8

(This story will not follow any one actual story line. For story telling purposes, most of the action will take place backstage or outside of any arena. So please bear with me as I take a little creative license with times and dates. Just to clarify, Mercedes going to work for the WWE started officially after Wrestlemania April 7th, 2013.)

April 16th, 2013

(11:30pm – following the Smack-down taping)

(Mercedes P.O.V.)

Since WWE Main Event was working only an hour or so away from the Smack-down location. I decided to get a hotel room for the evening promising Uncle Paul I would catch up with him tomorrow afternoon before the show taped. After check in I quickly took the elevator up to the tenth floor. I wish I could say that the room was nice, but the only thing I noticed with the very inviting queen size bed sitting just left of center of the room. I dropped my bags at the foot of the bed. Looking down at them, I thought about changing into a pair of shorts and t-shirt. After a matter of seconds I realized that would take way more energy than I had at the moment. Stripping down to my bra and panties I dropped onto the bed, pulling the blanket across my body I honestly think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

(5am April 17th, 2013)

At least there was no screaming this time – one good thing to be grateful for. I didn't want to have to explain my crazy ass nightmares to hotel security in my bra and panties. Snatching my cell phone from the bedside table, I was shocked to find that I had slept as long as I had. I guess there really is something to say for exhaustion. Maybe exhaustion was the key to my getting any real sleep. It wasn't a healthy option – but every couple of days I slept pretty decent. Now I wish I could give you some story about how I was strong and just shrugged the dreams off but I can't. Suddenly the silence of the hotel was too much to bear. I turned on the TV hoping to drawn out the stillness. That worked for me for all of about ten minutes. Sliding from bed, I wrapped myself in the cream colored sheet, before padding soundlessly to the large windows opposite the bed. Pulling the curtain back just a tad, I stood mesmerized by the early pre-dawn gray painting the sky. The sun was nothing more than a blip on the eastern horizon – its colors just barely blending with the soft pre-dawn gray. If nothing else, insomnia has definitely taught me an appreciation for mother-nature and all her glory.

Padding back towards the bed, I pushed a couple of pillows against the headboard, plopped down, and made myself comfortable. Snatching my cell from the table, I opened last night's texts from John. Why did I 'promise' him anything? Technically we just met; I didn't want to owe anyone anything. This time was supposed to be about me. I took this job to find me again; to learn to stand on my own two feet once more. Was promising John that I would let him know about the nightmares wise? Did it mean that once more I was depending on a man? Was he offering out of friendship or did he expect something more? Scrubbing my hands down my face; I once again cursed my past for leaving me with more fucking questions than answers.

Unable to stand the sound of my own voice – my own thoughts a second longer I opened a new a text message. "Hey John….its early you up?"

The moment I clicked send I almost felt guilty. He was up just as late as I was the night before. Why not let the poor man get some sleep. If he didn't answer my text then maybe that was the answer I'd been looking for all along.

Standing from the bed I headed into the bathroom. Opening the door I was immediately WOWED by the sight of the over-sized bathtub occupying like two-thirds of the room. "Definitely going to indulge in that," I thought with a lazy grin. Splashing cold water on my face, I studied myself in the average size vanity mirror – when I heard the tell-tale beep-beep of my cell phone.

"I'm up…How R U?"

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(JOHN'S P.O.V.)

Were the nightmares back or was she just an early raiser I wondered as I stretched out across the bed to await her answer. I didn't have to wait long "I didn't wake U did I?"

I wasn't sure, but good money says she's avoiding the question. Which is ok – for now, "No up early by choice – May hit the gym."

"I'm not keeping U am I?"

"No worries Cedes, what's up?"

"Just needed to talk" came her instant reply. Very telling choice of words; needed to talk not wanted to talk – definitely the nightmares. I needed a safe answer - one that would make her comfortable. I wanted her to trust me. I know that builds slowly – it takes time and patience. However I am not the most patient man you will ever meet in this life. "U know U can talk to me about anything anytime right?"

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(Mercedes P.O.V.)

"U know U can talk to me about anything anytime right?" Unsure how to reply, I went with sarcastic "that's sweet John, but U don't always have 2 B the big boy-scout with me."

His reply was instantaneous "Fuck the boy-scouts! We could try 4 friends though." Wow I thought, not the answer I was expecting.

"I don't think the boy-scouts would like that attitude much do U" was my only response? Sitting on the bed I waited for a reply – I sure as hell didn't expect the phone to actually ring. Glancing at the id, I answered, surprise lacing my words "John!"

"I would make a great "poster-child" for the boy-scouts. They would love to have me around."

Controlling the urge to giggle just a little "I'm sure they would John. I'm sure they would."

"I'm not sensing a lot of sincerity here." He quipped

"Who me – No I'm being totally sincere here – Honest!"

"Yeah right!" he agreed with sarcastic enthusiasm.

I giggled a little and then we both fell silent for a long moment. Each of us lost to our own thoughts. "I meant what I said" he began softly.

"I know you did John. I'm just…..I'm just not ready yet. Truth is….well the truth is I don't know if I ever will be."

I heard his frustrated sigh fill the silent phone line. For a brief moment, I almost felt guilty. Here was this seemingly great guy trying to be my friend and I was shutting him out of a huge part of my life.

"I'm not usually a patient man Mercedes. I want what I want; and I usually get it! That said I'll work on patience with you – if you work on trusting me. Whattya say?"

Rapidly with strange force I felt his words echoing through mind over and over again. "I want what I want." I couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be wanted – really wanted by John Cena.

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(JOHN'S P.O.V.)

Frustration ran roughshod over me. I was over thinking every word I said. Talking to the opposite sex hadn't been this hard for me since high school. 'What the hell am I playing at here,' I wondered. 'Could I really just offer her friendship? Could I be as patient with her as she might need?' I needed to figure out what it was about her that screwed with my head so damned much.

Wrapped up in my thoughts I almost missed what she said next. "You usually get what you want huh? So tell me Mr. Cena what is it you want most right now?"

'Fuckin' hell' I thought as my body tightened in response to her 'innocently' asked but still just as charged question. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? It's not like I can just fire back with I want you spread eagle on my bed begging me to let you come. I could always go with how her clever little mouth is going to earn her an epic spanking. Oh I know; I could tell her that I wanted to spend the whole night bringing her such intense pleasure/pain that she wouldn't know where one emotion started and the other ended.

Jerking upright on the bed, I stood pacing the large hotel room. My body was tight – hell my cock was semi-erect from just the mere thought of having her in my bed. "John" I heard her speak – my name an innocent whisper. I was good and totally screwed I just didn't know it. "I'm here," I responded with a gentle calm I sure as hell didn't feel.

"So tell me" she pushed "what does John Cena want right now?"

Going with safe, I attempted to turn the tables a little bit. "I think a better question would be what do you want right now Mercedes?"

"Oh that's easy," she told me quickly and without hesitation.

"Well are you going to share," I demanded with a teasing lilt.

"A long hot bubble bath, the key word being long" she giggled.

"A bubble bath huh?" Not the cleverest answer but the only one I could manage at the moment.

"MMmm yes the hotel here has this amazing looking tub and I'm just dying to soak in it for at least an hour I think." The joyful giggle lacing her words felt good to hear.

"And afterwards?" I asked trying to clear my head of the all too clear mental pictures flooding through it right now.

"Afterwards I was thinking that I would wander downstairs; there is supposed to be a great spa here in the hotel – I might go down and get my nails and toes done."

"Pink" I responded without thinking. 'What the shit are you doing Cena?' I wondered with self-depreciating humor.

"Pink? She questioned almost instantly.

What choice did I have – just go with Cena. "Yeah pink – if you do get your nails and toes done – paint them Pink."

"Why pink?"

Why pink indeed? I asked myself, was it because of those damned pink pajamas she wore the other night on my bus? "Just trust me," I began "you want to go with pink."

"Ok pink it is then!" She agreed with an easy laugh.

Five or ten minutes later we hung up, but not until she promised she would call me later.

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(Mercedes P.O.V.)

As we hung-up I realized that it was well after six already. Grabbing my bag, I headed for the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror, I was shocked at the face staring back at me. Talking with John about really nothing had made a world of difference. Digging my scented bubble bath from the bottom of my bag, I started the tub filling with hot water. Adding like two and a half capfuls of bubble bath, I stood back watching the tub with a goofy grin. Racing out of the bathroom, I found my cell phone on the bed. Quickly returning to stand beside the tub I searched for a good angle. Snapping two quick shots of the large oversized tub I grinned. Opening a text message I debated on what to say. Finally I settled on "this is way more fun than some sweaty smelly old gym any day," click send and done. Later if anyone were to ask I simply say the devil made me do it I thought laughing out loud.

(April 17th, 2013 near noon)

It's amazing what a hot bath and a little time having your nails and toes done can do for a woman. Heading to collect my bags, I couldn't help but smile. John was right pink was the perfect color choice for me. Sitting on the edge of the bed I snapped a picture of my toes and one of my nails – without thinking I sent both to John with the caption "nice choice."

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(John's P.O.V.)

Walking into the television studio, I silently cursed, having left my cell phone in the car. It had been on silent for most of the day, but that I didn't keep me from checking it often. I was more than a little taken aback when I got the texted photo from Mercedes. The mental image of her in a hot bubble bath had haunted me all day. That tub definitely looked big enough for two. I know it must sound cliché or even a little corny, but the thought of asking if she needed help washing her back did cross my mind once or twice.

An hour later I headed back to my rental. Pink, she went with pink – smiling like a damned Cheshire cat I texted back. "Sexy sleeping beauty – very sexy!" Not entirely sure that I would get a text back I tossed my phone into the passenger seat, and pulled out into traffic. Ten minutes later though, my phone beeped once more. "Thanks….sexy huh? U really think so?"

It was an innocent question, but one that left me with questions. Here was a beautiful sexy woman; a woman I suspected had no clue just how beautiful and sexy she was. Sitting at a red light, I responded "Damned sexy! Perfect choice!"

Her reply was almost instantaneous, "thanks sweet pea, off to work – call U later?"

I chuckled at her response. Of course I want to talk to her later – no need to ask the question. "Call me anytime!" I tell her with a big grin.

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(Mercedes P.O.V.)

(April 17th, 2013 around 1030pm)

Boarding the plane, I searched my carry on for my cell. Staying down at the small device, I noted the time. I absently wondered why it seemed that all of my actual conversations with John started at such un-normal hours. "I guess it's the nature of the business." I thought with a smirk.

Taking my seat, I noted that I had at least one missed text from John, "Call me anytime!" I smiled at his words from earlier. Well technically this is anytime. With that thought in mind, I texted him. "Hey this isn't calling its texting but it's anytime on plane back to CT – what about U?"

I didn't have to wait long. "LOL! Thanks 4 the pics 2day! Watching movies on bus – listening to Mack."

"UR Welcome…Tell Mack I said hey!"

"Mack say's hey sweet girl!" A second text appeared as fast as the first. "Why CT? The Stooges are just not as funny w/o U."

"What R U talking about – the Stooges R always funny!" I replied adding "Working with Stephanie next couple of days."

"Will U B back on road 4 Raw?" Came his quick and immediate reply.

"Yup, I'll B back for Raw." I returned.

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(JOHN'S P.O.V.)

I wanted her back for Raw…hell I wanted her riding with me right now. She's right the Stooges are always funny, but after sharing them with her – well. "How long is UR flight? Is someone picking U up airport?"

"Don't worry – got it covered. Flight's about an hour. Steph is picking me up"

I smiled glad that Stephanie was picking her up. I didn't want her wandering around the airport alone at night. "Text/Call when U land ok?"

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(Mercedes P.O.V.)

"I promise" I texted back, smiling as I used his choice of words from before. I wondered if he would remember. My answer came very quickly "Good Talk 2 U soon!"

Before closing my eyes, I responded with one last thought "Soon!"

Roughly an hour later my plane landed. It had been a very busy yet amazing week. Strangely I was glad to be home – back in Connecticut but I also missed be out with Uncle Paul and the other superstars and diva's. Retrieving my bags from baggage claim, I saw my Aunt Stephanie making her way towards me. She was always a welcome sight – yes it was good to be home for a few days.

Loading my bags in the trunk of her car – we headed home. The beautiful thing between me and my aunt is that we always pick up right where we left off. There is never a gap between us. I guess it helps that the age difference between us isn't as big as between most nieces and their aunts. Given that my mom is the oldest sister in her family and that I was a very early surprise for her. At first we talked about work. How I liked my job, what I thought about all of the travel, and of course which superstars/divas I had met already and how they were treating me. It was great to fill her in on the details of the day to day stuff; to tell her how I was doing this or that and get her opinion / reaction about it. As Stephanie started talking about the Superstars, I mumbled "Oh shit!" before digging around in my hand-bag for my cell phone. I quickly texted "I landed w/Stephanie now – headed home – Talk tomorrow?" Pushing send, I dropped my bag to the floor board – laying my phone in my lap. I should have known that nothing escapes my eagled-eyed aunt. She definitely noticed me texting. You could see the motherly questions painting her features.

Laughing I assured her it was nothing. "I promised a 'friend' that I would text him when I landed. Nothing serious Aunt Steph – honest."

"A male friend" questioned my dear sweet Aunt almost instantly?

Yeah it's just like I said, nothing slips past dear Aunt Stephanie. "Yes I replied a male friend." On one hand I wanted to tell her that I was texting John Cena; yet on the other I wanted to keep whatever was going on between us private – at least for now. My aunt had always been really good at giving me space – waiting till I was ready to talk. I could only hope this would be one of those moments.

"So" Stephanie began "your Uncle Paul mentioned that you rode with John. Did you have a good time? His bus is really great for traveling isn't it; all the comforts of home."

I almost choked. It shouldn't surprise me that my Uncle mentioned it to my Aunt. The one thing they have always had is communication. They are like the super-couple in my family. Aunt Stephanie has a momma bear side that is fierce when it comes to her girls; and like it or not I am definitely one of her girls. I guess I was quiet for too long – lost in my own thoughts I guess.

"Mercedes you wouldn't happen to be texting John Cena would you?"

"Dammit" I cursed silently she noticed. No sense lying about it now. "Yes Aunt Steph…" before I finished my thought my phone beeped. Opening my text, I smiled "yes definitely tomorrow – sweet dreams sleeping beauty." As I read and re-read his words, I knew the smile sliding across my face labeled me dork thirteen year old fan-girl and yet I simply didn't care. Picking up my train of thought I continued. "Yes Aunt Steph, I'm texting John Cena."

I watched my Aunt for any telling reaction. Her face seemed to me a mixture of happiness, motherly concern, and something a little darker; a combination I didn't truly understand. "Is there a problem with me and John talking?" I questioned. He was the company boy-scout after all – what harm could there be in him and I becoming friends.

"John" she began patiently, "is a sweet man. After his divorce though…." Her words trailed off as she sought to gather her thoughts. I prayed she would just spit it out already. "After the divorce" she finally continued "he changed."

"How" I asked curiously, "How did he change?"

"It was nothing dramatic and obvious, but there were definite changes some for the better; and some I worry for the worse."

Author's Note: This is not where I had planned on stopping this chapter. I wanted it to be longer, to show more interaction between John and Mercedes but I don't always get what I want with this story. I hope that you all enjoy reading – please leave the good, bad, and ugly in the box below. As always xoxox OZ