Chapter 15
"Nico, why-" Mark moved so he was standing behind her, reaching out to stop her from shaking. He gently turned her around and stared down into her eyes, his own crinkling with pain when he seen her tears. "Why would he do that to you, darlin'? What happened to make you worry so much?"
Nicoya sniffled a little, placing her hands on her hips, and laughed bitterly. "He used to hit me a lot, threatened to hurt me if I didn't do what he said, which I didn't so I got my ass beat. Eight years is a long time to deal with that kind of abuse, especially after I had his child. I kept going back to him because I was stupid and naïve and thought he actually gave two fucks about me. Imagine my surprise when ten months ago, I found him fucking Torrie Wilson in his dressing room with her bent over, spread eagle on his couch." Nicoya felt sick to her stomach as she pressed a hand to it, taking a deep breath. "That was the last time he was going to break my heart, which is why I immediately transferred over here from RAW.
Mark inhaled sharply, his eyes now shooting emerald green fire. "He hit you?" He said in a low rumble, remembering the time Alyssa had came to get him when John was in Nicoya's office, eyes narrowing. "If he comes near you ever again, let me know…" He muttered, not about to watch that cocksucker do anything to either Nicoya or Alyssa.
"That's why it was a really good thing my daughter went to get you when she did and you showed up when you did. I have no doubt in my mind he wouldn't hit me had you not showed up when you did." Nicoya sniffled as more tears fell down her cheeks and walked away from him, needing another refill. She filled her glass to the rim before taking a long swig of it before turning around to face him. "I wasn't about to bring Alyssa into that kind of relationship, especially with how short John's temper is. He would've hit her too had he known about her and used her against me as leverage every fucking chance he got his hands on, Mark. I always gave him six months every time we were together to get his act together and then I was going to tell him about her, but it never made it past three.
Mark couldn't honestly blame Nicoya for the choice she'd made regarding John and Alyssa. "You did what you thought was right, he don't deserve to know her. He didn't deserve you." He said gently, meaning that with everything in him. He walked over to her, holding out a bandana, reaching out to gently wipe away her tears when she didn't move to take it.
"You're the first man I've ever talked with about this." She admitted quietly, allowing him to wipe her tears away, and stared at him as they kept falling. She cried every night whenever Alyssa went to bed. A release of her pain and sorrow, heartbreak and all of her emotions. She was used to this by now and sighed heavily, taking another long swig of her wine before walking away from him. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to…dump that all on you. I know you have your own problems to deal with and everything." Her voice was low and quiet as she set her wine glass down, not able to hold it anymore since she was trembling so hard.
Mark shook his head, watching her, guessing now would be the time she put that wall back up between them. "My problems are tryin' to decide if I want to wear blue jeans or black jeans in the mornin', darlin'." He replied softly, letting her know she wasn't bothering him. "I'm always willing to lend an ear if ya need someone to talk too, Nico."
She slowly turned around and finally broke completely down, covering her face with her hands, and managed to walk over into his arms, burying her face in his chest. She needed comfort. She needed a hug. She needed someone to listen to her. To see her side. To tell her that she was doing the right thing. She had a feeling Mark could do all of that for her and wrapped her arms around his waist, hoping he didn't push her away. She was desperate to feel something, anything besides the same fear and sadness she had for the past eight years.
Mark wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him, and rested his head on top of hers, letting her cry on him. He rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles, murmuring softly in her ear. He stroked her hair with one hand. Doing his best to let her know it was alright. That she was doing the right thing. That she was doing the best anyone ever could in this kind of situation.
After crying for a good hour straight, just standing there, allowing him to comfort her, Nicoya finally pulled away from him and sighed heavily. "Sorry." She whispered, raking a hand through her black hair and sat down on the bed, dropping her head forward. She hadn't meant to breakdown like that, but after everything she just told him. After experiencing it all again verbally, Nicoya couldn't handle it and needed to feel some kind of comfort.
"Why're ya sorry, darlin'?" Mark asked gently, not bothered in the least, even if he had lost feelings in his toes. "Don't apologize, Nico, not to me." She needed to cry and be comforted and he suddenly felt the need to hold her. Comfort her. Protect her if he could. None of it was making sense at the moment to Mark. He'd been trying for awhile now to sort through his own thoughts when it came to Nicoya and every time he reached a conclusion, he wound up back at the beginning. Rethinking it all over again. He sighed inwardly, thoughts were getting him nowhere. Just acting on impulse, holding her, that had felt right to him.
"I didn't mean to soak your shirt." She sniffled out, speaking softly, her voice hoarse from crying and sighed heavily as she rubbed her arms with her hands. "Thank you for…giving me the comfort I needed to feel, Mark. Makes me know that I've made the right decision when it comes to Alyssa and that situation with her sperm donor." She sighed heavily and stood up, raking a hand through her hair. "Do you mind if I go change really fast? This skirt is driving me bonkers." She cracked a small smile at him.
Mark arched an eyebrow, having had every intention of leaving so she could sleep or whatever she did at night. Now THERE was an interesting thought. "Course not, darlin', do whatever ya want." He murmured, taking in the skirt she wore. It looked good on her, but it did look uncomfortable at the same time.
"Thanks, I'll be out in a few minutes." She whispered softly, running her hand across his cheek gently before grabbing a nightgown out of her bag, and walked inside. She peeled out of her clothes and then slipped on the emerald green gown that went to her knees and it was spaghetti strapped and silky. She splashed some cold water on her face to get rid of the redness of her eyes and then patted her face dry with a towel before finally walking out. "Much better." She purred in contentment, shaking her head a little to move her hair from her back. "I always hate wearing those suits."
Mark had to clear his throat and look elsewhere when she came out. Emerald green with her blue eyes and black hair, simply stunning in his eyes. Of course there was factoring in her gorgeous, curvy body. He mentally slapped himself. 'Quit thinkin' like that, man!' He scolded himself, wondering when his mind started running away with him. "Why don't ya just wear jeans then, darlin'?" He asked, needing to distract himself.
"You know Vince's new policy, Mark. Oh wait, it doesn't apply to you." She playfully glared at him and walked over, sitting down on the bed on her needs, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Lucky fucker." She muttered, though the amusement clearly shone in her midnight blue eyes.
"And just what-" Mark replied, sinking down onto the couch and staring at her, amusement in his own green orbs. "Is Vince gonna do? Fire ya?" He snorted at the thought, knowing it would never happen. "Please woman, you could get away with comin' to work in sweat pants and a t-shirt and he wouldn't bat an eyelash."
"Actually, yes he would. That one time I wore jeans at the arena, Stephanie had to write me up a warning. She had no choice." She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Besides you and John, the rest of us are being forced to dress up for work professionally, which sucks since I'm more of a jeans and t-shirts kinda gal, but I'll deal with it."
Mark rolled his eyes. "Vince tried ONCE to impose an uh…dress code on me. I changed his mind right quick." He smiled slightly, a wicked glean in his eyes. "Maybe ya oughta try tossin' yer weight around, Nico. Who else is he goin' to find to replace you?"
"I'm not that type of person, Mark. I don't purposely like to cause trouble." She smirked knowingly back at him and crossed her arms in front of her chest, raising an amused eyebrow and cracked her neck, groaning.
"Sore?" Mark asked, moving over to sit behind her when she nodded. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing firmly, but tenderly before working his fingers up her neck, feeling how tense she was. "Nothin' wrong with raisin' a little Hell every now and then, Nico." He murmured thoughtfully and quietly.
"Yeah, but I just roll with the punches." She murmured softly in return, her eyes drifting close, and completely melted into his strong hand. She loved the feeling of his hands on her body and wondered what they would feel like touching her in more…intimidate places. She sighed out when he hit a spot and let a soft moan escape her lips, scooting further back against him. "Right there…don't stop please…" She whispered out breathlessly, moving her hair over her shoulder so he could have better access. She hadn't had a massage in quite sometime so this was feeling intensely great. Mark smiled, working on that one spot, feeling her silky skin under his fingertips, feeling the tension melting away. The smile broadened on his face for a just a second before his eyes started to darken to a forest green color. Wondering just how silky other parts of her would be to the touch. "Ever consider being a part-time masseuse?" She wondered aloud through her moans of satisfaction, not believing how strong his hands were, yet they were gentle at the same time. She sighed in contentment, her head dropping even lower, her hair pooling over with her movements and groaned when he hit another sore spot. "Damn…"
"Hmmm…No, I like working with my hands, but I don't think that'd be the job fer me, darlin'." Mark replied, sounding amused. "I'm not that big of a person people." He could just imagine it, someone would be gabbing while hew as rubbing them down and he'd wind up dropping an elbow on their back.
"Not a people person, eh? Then what do you call spending time with my daughter?" She retorted softly, pulling away from him reluctantly, though she didn't want too and turned around to stare at him. Her midnight blue eyes peered into his, searching his soul, wanting to find out what was going through his mind.
"Yer daughter ain't people, she's a person." Mark countered, meeting her eyes. "That and she's entertainin', funny, and a sweet little bundle of energy. I like kids." He shrugged absentmindedly. "Just don't get on well with many adults. Present company excluded darlin'."
"Interesting…" She said thoughtfully, tapping her chin, and sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I'm not sure what kind of company I've been tonight, but you've certainly helped me out a lot. Thanks Mark." She touched his arm, meaning what she said. Her eyes shining with appreciation.
"You've been good company." Mark replied, catching her hand in his, squeezing gently. "I only hope I haven't bored the socks off of ya." He looked at her feet. "Figuratively speakin' of course."
Nicoya giggled softly, keeping it low so she didn't wake Alyssa, and squeezed his hand back, biting her bottom lip. "Nope, you've been great company tonight, Mark. Now I understand why my daughter likes you so much. You're not that bad after all." She winked at him before patting his leg and stood up to get her glass of wine, taking another sip of it before dumping it in the sink.
Mark stared at her, quickly getting off the bed and following her, leaning in the kitchen way, blocking her path. "Not that bad after all huh, darlin'?" He repeated with a grin on his face. "That almost sounded like an insult."
"It wasn't meant to be an insult. I just meant that you're not as bad as I thought you were." She replied with a smirk on her face, placing her hands on her hips, and tilted her head to the side. "Just like sending me that cupcake. What was that supposed to indicate exactly?" She asked amusedly, already knowing what her precious daughter did tonight.
Mark folded his arms over his chest, well aware that was Alyssa. She'd done the same thing to him. "Hmmm…I don't know, darlin' because I find you sweet and wanted to share?" He drawled teasingly, though he was partially serious in saying that.
Nicoya's eyes rose in curiosity, a shiver flowing down her spine at the sound of his drawled voice, but mentally shook herself quickly. "Hmmm well I'm not all that sweet, but thanks for sharing." She winked at him, brushing past him, and ran her fingers through her long black hair, her emerald green nightgown clinging to her every curve.
Mark did a full body shiver when she brushed against him, more then tempted to snatch her back and kiss her until she was reeling. But then again, she might cocock him; send him packing from her and Alyssa's lives. As tempting as kissing her was, he wasn't about to risk anything…just yet. "Mmm…now I'm in the mood fer somethin' sweet." He muttered, adding creamy mentally.
"I'm sure there's a donut shop nearby or you could even order from room service, Mark." Nicoya prompted, smirking back at him, and leaned back against the headboard. Her knee drawn up as she squished her toes into the comforter while her other leg lay prone on the bedding beneath. "If you're in the mood for something sweet."
Mark returned the smirk, his green eyes taking in the way she was sitting. "You have very nice legs." He said in a casual voice.
"Thanks…" She hesitantly replied, not sure how to take that, but smiled anyway before reaching over for the remote, flipping the TV on, and switched legs. They were tanned, smooth and creamy, looking soft to the touch under the dimmed lighting in the room. "The menu is over there." She pointed to the nightstand drawer with that smirk still on her lips.
Mark shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. "I'll pass, darlin'." He murmured in response. It wasn't food he was craving at the moment and something told him the wench knew it. "Tell the munchkin good mornin' fer me when she wakes up." He headed for the door, grabbing the knob and glanced back at her. "Sleep well, darlin'." His voice was low and husky, sending tremors throughout her body.
Nicoya shivered as she smiled over at him and stood up from the bed, walking over, and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and kissed his cheek. "You too, Mark." She murmured softly, tapping his nose, and winked at him before walking back over to the bed and laid down on it on her side, snuggling into the pillow. "I'll tell Alyssa what you said."
Mark groaned inwardly, not believing she could be so damned cruel, though at the same time, it was amusing. He smirked at her, his green eyes shining wickedly and blatantly looked her over before meeting her eyes again. "Sweet dreams, Nico." He drawled with the sensual smirk still firmly in place before walking out.
Two could play that game.