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Chapter 16

(Mercedes P.O.V.)

I was supposed to be working, not staring out the window daydreaming. Looking at my lap-top I realized with some shock that more than half an hour had passed. Half an hour spent daydreaming about John. I wasn't sure what I expected when I flew out to see him, but I was pretty sure last night wasn't it.

I've spent the last year of my life being careful, pretending that everything is ok. I've never discussed any part of my life with Jake with anyone; not my mom, little sister, step-dad, Aunt Steph, Uncle Paul, not ever my best friend – NO one. What made John different? Once I started talking I couldn't seem to shut up. The instant he stood up from the sofa I was sure that I'd made a huge ass mistake, but he just held me tighter. He insisted that nothing had changed between; I wasn't so sure about that. How could he hear all of that and still look at me the same way? I just didn't understand.

I wasn't prepared for waking up in his arms. Waking up with John was much more intimate than I expected. As my thoughts drifted, I absently fingered the hem of "his" long red soft cotton t-shirt. Any anxiety I felt over sharing a bed or his clothing flew out the window the minute I saw his face this morning.

I'd been awake for about ten or fifteen minutes when I felt John slip from bed. I guess it was twenty minutes later when I smelled breakfast cooking. A smile ghosted across my face as my mind drifted back to earlier in the morning.

The smell of bacon and eggs with hot coffee was enough to force me from bed. Slipping quietly from bed, I stood watching John as he bustled between the counter to the small table and back again. "Good Morning – something sure smells good in here."

I don't think John realized that I was up – maybe I even startled him a little. "Good Morning baby-girl," his words were slow and easy. It was the look on his face that caught my attention most; a definite mix of kid in the candy store and all dominate over protective alpha male. "Like that makes any sense to anyone but you," screamed my little inner voice.

Breakfast flew by in rush of conversation. We talked about Extreme Rules. I would never say this to him, but I was a little worried about him facing Ryback. I'd over heard some others talking backstage about the current storyline between John and Ryback; made me wonder if maybe Ryback was beginning to believe his own hype. All too soon breakfast was finished – together we cleaned up the small kitchen area in companionable silence. As John headed out he assured me that Mack was visiting family and would be gone until late tomorrow afternoon. I would have the whole bus to myself most of the day; free to get as much work done as I possibly could.

Standing at the door with John, I smiled feeling a little like a giddy school girl when he hugged me tight and kissed my cheek, promising he shouldn't be longer than three or four hours. I had just shut the door behind him and started for sofa to collect my lap-top bag when I heard him come back through the door. Turning I glanced over my shoulder, I laughed "did you forget something?" I asked curiously.

Taking my hand he jerked me in nice and tight against his hard firm body. "Yeah" he whispered a sensual huskiness taking over his words "I forgot this." He claimed my mouth in a deep, hard kiss. His tongue plundered the inside of my mouth. I could feel his tongue "tasting" every inch of my mouth. It felt as if he were daring my tongue to "come out and play," so to speak.

I pressed my hands against his chest, my fingers knotted in the soft cotton. Slowly he lightened the kiss – pulling back he smiled brief and all dominate male. "I should go, I'll see you in a few hours," and with a last soft kiss across my forehead he was gone.

Shaking off the last of my daydreams I tried to get back to work.

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(John's P.O.V.)

I could have just as easily spent the entire weekend locked in that damned bus with Mercedes, but maybe a few hours space wasn't such a bad idea. I needed to clear my head. I listened to Mercedes last night. I listened to every damned word she said. I needed to hear it almost as much as she needed to say it – out loud. In the end I told her it didn't matter – that none of it mattered to me.

The very idea that – that fucking douchebag said and did those things to her made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to put my fist through his face. A part of me wished I could dig him up and kick the shit out of him right now (sick, morbid and probably a little twisted I know). Sitting at a red light I growled in frustration, punching the steering wheel. This wasn't supposed to be getting serious and heavy. I was just supposed to look out for – be her friend. Yet here I was listening to her deepest secrets; at the same time I was pushing her to get involved with me. Did I really want to get involved; me the man who swore that from now on women were nothing but friends someone to share a good time with now and then. For months now I limited myself to only those who knew the score. I saw only those women who could play the game just as well if not better than me. Mercedes was a smart girl but she was far from knowledgeable about my world and what went on it. Hell after listening to her last night I wouldn't blame her if she went screaming running for the hills when she finally found out. How did I explain to someone who'd spent the last year of their life being mentally and most likely physically abused that I wanted to tie them to my bed and devour them like an all you can eat buffet? No when it came to Cedes, I needed to stop thinking with my damned dick and start thinking with my head. If I didn't both of us were totally screwed.

The image of her in that fucking red t-shirt wouldn't stop. I knew when I saw it the bathroom that I wanted her to wear it. At first I told myself that I was making things easy. If I gave her something to sleep in she wouldn't have to go digging through her suit case. A few minutes later when she crawled into bed next me to I couldn't deny the truth. My mind screamed, "You wanted to brand her – you want the whole damned world to know that she's yours. Your trying to stake your claim anyway you can. Admit it!"

Watching her walk out of the bedroom in that damned t-shirt – well let's just say it totally fucked with my head. There she was like every man's living breathing wet dream. Her face still flushed from sleep, her long hair down and tousled nothing between me and her except my damned t-shirt and a pair of pink panties that I would never forget. The urge to go all cave man on her and drag her back to bed; tearing those damned panties from her body with my teeth was strong. I needed to escape – before I did something if I didn't live to regret she would. Then like a damned moron, I'd escaped, and turned around and went right back; right back into the arms of a kiss that wasn't long enough. Shit, I could still feel her longer slender fingers clutching my shirt. Yeah there was an air of innocence about her, yes she was overcoming a hideous past, but she was still the most responsive damned woman I'd ever had in my arms.

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(Mercedes P.O.V.)

I guess it was about two o'clock when John texted to say that things on the set were running longer than expected. He promised to be back as soon as he could, but at that point he wasn't sure when that might be. I guess it was closer to four or so, when I realized that I had been staring at my lap top for the last five minutes reading the same line over and over again. I needed a break. Forcing myself to finish up the last little bit. I stood for a much needed break. Shutting down my lap-top I yawned and stretched as I made my way around the bus.

One hour and a long hot shower later, I felt infinitely better. Rummaging through my suitcase I found my favorite pair of old cut off jean shorts. I could have kept looking and found a t-shirt or tank top, but instead I slipped back into John's red hustle, loyalty, and respect t-shirt. Turning on the TV I channel surfed until I found CMT (country music television) playing the new Tim McGraw video with Taylor Swift and Keith Urban.

Listening to my stomach, I decided it might be time to find something to eat and soon. I'd just grabbed a box of cheerios from the cupboard when my phone buzzed. Checking my messages, I smiled "finally done B back soon!" I couldn't help the tiny giggle that bubbled over. Looking at the cereal box I laughed out loud, before returning it to the cupboard. I suddenly wanted to cook. Scouring the frig, and the cupboards a second time I found the fixing for a couple of vegetable omelets. Turning the volume up on my music just a little I began singing along with Carrie Underwood as I diced up the green peppers. It felt good to lose myself in the music and my own slightly off key signing – nothing more serious on my mind than making dinner for me and John.

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(John's P.O.V.)

It was on the tip of my tongue to call out something akin to "Hey honey I'm home," when I quickly realized Mercedes was oblivious to my presence. She didn't know I was there. I could just sit back and take it all in; her long dark hair still damp from the shower pulled up in some sort of half pony-tail half messy bun, her long tan legs in those impossibly short shorts, and my shirt. "My shirt…my shirt…my shirt…" Judging by the dampness of her hair, I assumed at some point recently Mercedes had showered and yet she put "my t-shirt" back on. Watching Mercedes dance and bop around the kitchen was as amusing as it was nearly erotic. Standing at the counter with her back to me I watched her hips swaying as she sang along with the TV and humming slightly off key. "Right now, she's probably up singing some white-trash version of Shania karaoke... Right now, she's probably saying "I'm drunk" And he's a thinking that he's gonna get lucky, right now, he's probably dabbing on three dollars' worth of that bathroom cologne...And he don't know...That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little cooped up 4 wheel drive, Carved my name into his leather seats... I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights, slashed a hole in all 4 tires... Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats."

A part of me could have stood silently rooted in place all night and just watched her. She looked so young, innocent, and free. How did I say something without scaring the hell out of her – that was the question? As the song ended, there was a brief pause I spoke "hey slugger, I'm home." She turned quickly, the green pepper in her hand slipping soundlessly to the counter. "Oh My God! John you scared the hell out of me. How long have you been standing there?"

Approaching the counter I slipped my arms around her waist drawing her into me "Long enough to know that leaving you alone with my baseball bat is probably not a real good idea." Without missing a beat I claimed her mouth in a long soft wet kiss. Sliding my hand to the back of her neck, I made short work of removing the hair scrunchie holding her long hair up. Tossing the offending scrunchie to the floor I began sifting my fingers through her dark hair; loving the smell of lavender and cream that clung to her skin. Pulling away from me she smiled "I was thinking about making veggie omelets for dinner. There's still time if you want to grab a shower before dinner's ready." Disappointed that our kiss ended so quickly – I took that as my cue to hit the showers.

Dinner was simple and delicious. It was more than nice to just sit around the table and talk. As a kid growing up I remember my parents sitting around the table every morning together drinking coffee. I asked my dad once why he got up a few minutes early every morning to just to have coffee with mom. I don't remember his exact words, but I remember thinking "yeah right." My thoughts must have translated across my face – because he simply laughed telling "with the right person – someday John, you will understand." Maybe dad was right. Sitting here like this, across the table, from Mercedes I could completely understand why dad got up every morning to talk to mom over coffee.

I guess we sat talking for nearly two hours (it sure didn't seem that long.) Talking about my time on set led to talking about favorite movies and TV shows. This in turn led to me mentioning that I had a couple of new movies that I'd borrowed from Mark (the Undertaker). She was up for watching a movie if I was. Mercedes went to make herself some popcorn, while I put the movie on.

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(Mercedes P.O.V.)

Dinner was amazing. We sat talking and eating for more than two hours. I couldn't remember the last time I enjoyed a conversation so much. It wasn't until I stood to make some popcorn before the movie that I realized I hadn't thought about Jake since early this morning. Even then I wasn't really thinking about him I was thinking about John accepting my past. Jake and my past had consumed my thoughts for so long that I was a little shaken at how easily it all slipped from my mind today. Just because he'd crossed my mind now – didn't mean I was going to let the past spoil the rest of my evening. Forcibly pushing Jake and the past back under lock and key I headed for the sofa. Taking a seat on the sofa, I sat the popcorn bowl between us.

The first twenty minutes or so of the movie were fine, and then things started getting really creepy. I even admit at one point I shrieked like a little girl. John laughed pausing the movie, "Uh 'Cedes, we can watch something else – we don't have to finish this if you don't want to."

A little embarrassed I giggled nervously "it's all good John – honest."

He watched me for a long moment and then two before reaching for the bowl between us. Setting the large bowl on the floor he took my hand bringing me to stand beside the sofa. Stretching his long legs out on the sofa, he playfully jerked me into his lap. Settling into the spot between his long legs, I rested with my back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me before restarting the movie. The movie was awful I think I shrieked/gasped at least twice more. At one point, I grabbed his hand in mine and tried to cover my eyes.

"Finally" I exclaimed as the movie drew to an end.

"Awe what's a matter 'Cedes did the movie scare you? Do you need me to check under the bed for monsters before you go to sleep tonight?" His voice light and care free as he reached for the remote – teasing me endlessly. Standing from the sofa, I headed for the bathroom shouting over my shoulder "the next one had better be better than that!"

I could hear him chuckle "Don't forget to check behind the door for monsters. Just yell if you get scared baby-girl I'll come running – promise."

A few minutes later we were both settled back on the sofa. While the first movie did kind of scare the crap out of me – this one didn't seem to keep my interest. I was suddenly more aware of John than anything else around me. The weight of his arms wrapped around me, the feel of his large hands engulfing my much smaller ones, that fresh from the shower smell that still clung to him – it was driving me crazy. I struggled to concentrate on the movie. I was doing pretty good there for a minute until he leaned in and whispered in my ear "is this better?"

The warm feel of him against my ear was insane. I suddenly didn't want to watch the movie any longer – I couldn't. Swiping the remote from the back of the sofa I quietly turned the movie off; before dropping the remote onto the floor beside the sofa. Turning myself around I found myself awkwardly straddling his lap. I sat quietly watching him, my fingers gently caressing his face. I loved sliding my fingers slowly softly across his right cheek down along his lower jaw across his chin. I brushed my finger across his lower lip. "John," I whispered his name a murmured plea for something I couldn't explain. I slid my right hand across his chest – coming to rest just above his beating heart. Strangely I watched as my fingers with a seeming mind of their own rubbed at his chest – my nails gently teasing at the area, as I continued to enjoy the feel of his pounding heart against my hand. Looking into his eyes I whispered "Please…Please don't…don't move." With slow nearly painful movements I brushed my mouth across his. The feeling was instantly electric. I continued to brush my mouth across his – slow bare whisper kisses. I was becoming addicted and I didn't care. I never wanted this feeling to end. With John I was more than my past, more than my family, I was a real woman – a sexual woman. I was free to feel and do whatever I wanted. Problem with that was I didn't know how to express what it was I wanted. Pulling back I rested my head against this shoulder – unable to fully meet his gaze.

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(John's P.O.V.)

This woman was going to be the death of me yet. Watching a movie with her in my lap was one thing – having her turn the movie off in favor of straddling me was something else altogether. The feel of her fingers against my face – her gentle exploration making me insane. She touched me as if I were fragile glass – gentle almost reverent. I knew allowing her to continue was probably a bad idea, but I couldn't stop her either. Her hand across my heart, her gently scratching at my chest went to my head like a drug. Her sweet kisses made me crave for more – more than either of us was prepared for. Her almost painful plea of "don't move" was nearly my undoing. Where the hell was I was going to go that was any better than the sweet tortuous hell I was in right now. Her kisses were fast becoming the drug that feed my addiction. When she pulled back I felt the sense of loss instantly. I could see the confusion in her eyes. "What is it baby-girl – Talk to me?"

"I feel so naïve John – it's silly" she murmured her words muffled against my shoulder.

"There's nothing silly or naïve about the way you feel baby girl – just talk to me."

I felt her draw in one, two, three deep shuddering breaths before pushing forward. "I want…" she stopped her words broken as she finally looked into my eyes. I knew instantly what she wanted. I took her mouth in a deep long hard kiss. I couldn't stop! Once my tongue was inside her wet soft mouth I wanted more. Her taste was incredible. How could any-one damaged, innocent, beautiful, scared, amazing woman have me wrapped around her finger so damned quickly?

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(Monday Night Raw – a few minutes before show-time)

Paul and I stood outside his office talking about nothing special for nearly five minutes when he finally came around to asking about Mercedes. "So Steph mentioned that Mercedes flew out to see you this weekend – how did that go?"

I chuckled silently to myself Paul was more than a little worried about her. Why I wondered. When he'd asked me to look after her – he'd said that her past had been rough, but he never mentioned why she was important to him. Definitely something I would need to ask him about – but not tonight. "We no worries Paul, we just hung out, watched movies, did a little sight-seeing, nothing big."

"How's she doing?" He asked concern lacing his every word and feature. "I mean with the nightmares and all?" I was a little surprised that he asked – was he assuming I just knew about her dreams or had she told her family that I knew? "She's doing ok Paul – honest right now you have nothing to worry about!"

"You'll tell me if that changes – right John?" He asked a strange mixture of concern and worry crossing his features.

"You know I will" I agreed as I watched Mercedes rushing down the hall towards us. Damn if she didn't look good enough to eat – in those knee high leather boots, snug fitted jeans, little white top and black jacket. Smiling she seemed a little anxious about tonight's show. "John I think their looking for you down at the gorilla area."

"Thanks 'Cedes," turning to Paul I laughed "relax H – it's all good – I swear."

(Monday Night Raw – after the show)

Sitting alone in the locker room I cursed. I couldn't wait till Extreme Rules this weekend. It was going to feel good to finally get my hands on Ryback. There was no doubt the man had talent. The problem was he was letting that talent go to his damned head. It's never a good idea to start taking your own hype to seriously. I'd been in this business a damned long time now – this was a match I was certainly going to enjoy. When the door swung open I was expecting the Orton or the doc – not an agitated anxious Mercedes.
"I was watching on the monitors outside Paul's office are you ok?" Her words flowed in a hot rush. She was definitely anxious and concerned as she paced in front of the bench. I watched her for several long seconds from my perch on the bench before reaching out to grab her hand. "Slow down baby girl you're going to wear a hole in the floor. I'm fine just a couple of bumps – no big deal honest."

"It didn't look like no big deal to me. Are you sure you don't need to see the trainer?"

"I'm fine Mercedes, honest it's just a couple of bumps nothing I can't handle."

I could see that my words were doing nothing to settle her nerves so I smiled trying a different approach "You know what Mercedes you might be right – I think this spot here on my chest might be a little serious – why don't you come over her and kiss it make it all better for me – What do you say?"

Author's Note: A HUGE thank-you to everyone who has read, reviewed, or added this story to their favorites and/or following list. You guys are AWESOME your thoughts, comments, and messages never fail to make me smile in one form or another.