Honestly, he hesitated some before keying into the hotel room.
It wasn't that he was unwelcome or anything, he reminded himself, as he slipped the keycard Stephanie had given him into the little slot. She'd been the one to slip the keycard into his palm that morning when they passed in the hall. She'd smiled over her shoulder at him too, rushing along with some of the other divas she was hanging around while he was still stuck in place, out side of Dogg's room, waiting on the man for a lift to the arena.
They played this game often, Paul and Stephanie did, the past few weeks. Slipping away to be together wasn't enough; they needed entire nights.
Still, when Steph gave him the keycard that morning, she had no idea the looming argument the pair would get into. In his defense, neither did Paul. Everything just sorta…
Paul wasn't fucking flirting with the goddamn women that one of the fucking assholes in the locker room had backstage. He was just...talking. And fine, maybe he did enjoy openly being given attention because who the fuck didn't?
He wasn't with Steph, technically.
It would look weird if he didn't let them compare his bicep to Brian's and Pac's. Feel on him a bit. He was a goddamn man, all sweaty from the ring.
And he wasn't going to fuck them anyways.
Even if Steph wasn't hanging around.
She was annoyed with him though, that night, avoiding him it felt like, backstage, and when he tried to talk to her, she claimed she was just too busy.
"I'm sure your new friends," Steph replied and it had been over an hour since then, anyways, so he was completely lost by her words, "have plenty of free time to chat. But I'm busy."
"New friends," he repeated softly. He'd caught Steph leaving gorilla, papers in hand, off to do something, he was sure, but he was free now and was kinda hoping to follow her around. "What are you-"
"I'm working, Hunter," she complained, leaving him behind. Her tone was enough to stop him in his tracks and, with a frown, figure out something else to do for the night.
Hanging with Steph clearly wasn't it.
Still, she couldn't avoid him forever and, when they arrived back at the hotel around the same time that night, maybe they lingered in the parking lot, to hash out where the disconnect happen.
"Steph, I don't even fucking know them," he whispered, the steam from his breath in the cold winter air brushing her face. They were facing one another, Steph's arms crossed tightly over her chest and her head pulled up, but holy shit, could he feel her piercing blue eyes on him anyways.
And it was fucking stupid, all of it, because Stephanie wasn't his girlfriend and even if she was, he could have whoever feel up his muscles he wanted! And others things, even, in fact, but when he said that Steph snorted and turned on her heel and heel.
"We can't," he complained at her back, "ever figure shit out if you just run away, Steph."
This stopped her at least. Over her shoulder, she replied, "I don't wanna talk here. We can later."
And then she continued on without him, as she had the entire day it felt like, with increasingly poorer results. He didn't get a smile over her shoulder then, like he had that morning, but she did glance back at him, unlike that afternoon, and well, small victories.
Steph's determination of later is what threw the man off.
She'd been the one to give him the keycard that morning, but he knew that was under better relations. After how she'd acted backstage, there was no fucking way he was going to visit her that night, but then their conversation in the parking lot…
When she said later…
Did she mean…
He debated it for awhile in his hotel room. He even thought about just calling hers and finding out. But…
He didn't wanna fight over the phone.
Plus, she had given him the keycard.
When he keyed into the room close to midnight that night, he thought Steph was waiting up for him still, as she usually did. The TV was on still, anyways. Taking a step further into the room though gave him a clear shot of her resting in one of the double beds. The covers were kicked down beneath her feet, legs curled and eyes closed.
He could've walked back out and she wouldda been none the wiser.
But he didn't.
Shutting the door softly behind him, Paul walked over the end of the furthest bed and cleared his throat.
It was disorienting, at first, for Steph.
But not wholly unwelcome.
The man wasn't wrong in his pondering; she had been waiting up for him.
As she startled awake though, he did feel a sudden pit in his stomach, briefly considering the optics of appearing in her room after they had a disagreement, but this was washed away when Steph sighed and settled.
"Hey," he whispered softly as, after toeing out of his shoes, he came around to stand between the two beds, facing the side of hers.
Steph blushed, just from their positioning, but didn't move to sit up. Just stay resting against the mattress, having slipped down further, beneath the pillows at some point. She felt so small, looking up at him like that.
"Hey," she whispered back and for a moment, they each stared at the other, trying to gauge where they stood. Drawing in a breath, Steph added, "I didn't think you'd come."
"Really?" This felt like enough confirmation to the man. Especially when shifted back some, as much as she could anyways, in the full bed, making room for the man. As he pressed a knee down in the little space made, he tilted his head to the side. "You usually sleep with the TV so loud?"
"Mmmm." Stephanie shrugged, but it was with a roll of her eyes as she snatched the tiny black remote out of the man's landing space when he fell fully into bed beside her. "Sometimes even louder."
"Really?" As he settled, Paul snatched the remote and began to do as she said, turning the volume on the television slightly louder. His voice added to her room meant nothing now. "What a weird thing to do."
But neither heard the television as, reaching down, Steph grabbed the sheets and blankets pooled at their feet and brought them back, over their heads. Alone in the dark now, Paul reached for the woman, but his hands were batted away.
"Steph-"
"We're going," she griped, "to talk."
He huffed. "What?"
"It's what," she insisted, "I told you we were doing before."
"Yeah," he agreed, "before you flipped out for no reason-"
"Shut up, Hunter."
"Steph-"
"Get out."
"Say it again," he warned, "and I will."
So she huffed and for a few moments, the blankets felt suffocating and the sitcom rerun felt far too loud.
"I can talk to other people, Stephanie," he said finally when it seemed like she was unwilling to broach their tension. She'd been picking at a loose thread in the sheet beneath them, but her blue eyes turned to him as her hands froze and he wanted to kiss her, hadn't known out in the ring that he wouldn't have the chance later, and wondered what she'd do if he just did.
Could they just avoid the fight?
If he did that?
But when he leaned closer, it seemed only to be for a lecture.
"I never," she retorted and he fought a groan, "said that you couldn't, Hunter. But you were flirting with those women-"
"Was not."
"Were too."
"I can do whatever the fuck I want."
"You can," Steph agreed which felt good. His first sign something was wrong.
"You're not my...girlfriend, Steph. You said that. We said that. That this is...casual."
"I am casual," she assured him, but it was with a blush and a slight struggle to expel the word. "I've been very casual about this."
"Then-"
"But I can casually decide," she continued as he glared, "I don't want to be around you anymore."
"You can," he agreed. "But if you're doing it because I'm being friendly to some fans-"
"Come off it."
"Off what?"
"If you're not even be honest-"
"Some women," he defended, "that my friend, my colleague, my coworker-"
"Would you like a mic?"
"One of my closest allies," he played up because she seemed to want it, maybe, or perhaps it was just too hard to turn off, "had friends around who are super into Triple H."
"Oh were they asking for autographs?" Steph sneered, but he only shrugged.
"Fans come in all shapes and sizes, babe," he continued, "so if you wanna be with me-"
"I don't wanna be with you."
"Stephanie-"
"I don't," she repeated as he frowned truly at her, "wanna be with you."
"Why are you being like this?"
It was her turn to scoff. "You just finished telling me this is all casual."
"It is." His eyes fell, down towards their feet and the shadowy abyss the blankets over their head created. "I'm casually with you."
"You can be whatever you want." She shrugged. "I'm not with you."
He bit his lip, hard, before replying, "I'm not with you either."
Steph shoved up some, but it was only to turn over and give him her back. Head still pressed to the mattress, she found a new spot, away from his gaze, to pick at as she said, "Good. That's casual. Real casual."
Paul gave her a minute to sulk. And himself one as well. Then another to contemplate just leaving. Steph was actually nearly asleep after three minutes of just lying there, waiting for a response. It was his nose she felt first as he brushed his face over the back of her head.
"What the fuck," he asked softly, tone even and cool as one of his hands snaked over the woman's waist, "does that word even mean?"
It always fucked with her breathing, his touch did, and Steph fought to even understand him. "What?"
"Like," Paul whispered as his lips came to rest right beside her ear, hot breath not noted by their steam, but rather the twisting of the woman's thighs, "what does casual even mean? You know?"
"Are you serious?" Steph couldn't help it. While it did take a minute for his words to fully register, once they had, she was bothered by them. "Hunter?"
"No. I mean, yeah, but no."
"You're not-"
"When I say this is casual," he decided then, "what does that mean to you? That I can fuck someone else? That's not casual."
"I don't care," she said, but it was lie, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut to make it, "if you fuck other people."
"Really?"
"Really."
He let out a long, slow breath then before insisting to the woman, "I do."
"You do?"
"I do." His hand slipped beneath the tank she wore, but came no further than her stomach. His hand felt cold, but when she squirmed back against him, it wasn't a shiver. "I don't want you fucking other people."
"Then-"
"I was just in a good mood, Steph." He bowed his head to kiss her bare shoulder. "So I was fucking around with my friends and their friends. If I was being too friendly-"
"I'm not your girlfriend."
"Steph-"
"You said it first."
Yeah, but…
It hurt more when she said it.
"You can do whatever you want, Hunter," she continued, but as he was ready to remind her he had and it had led them here, the woman continued, "And I can feel however I want."
"Right," he agreed slowly. "Jealous."
"Uh, no." Steph snorted. "I'm not jealous."
He fought his own. "Sure about that?"
"Very," Stephanie insisted, but he only pulled her tighter back against him.
"Let's review the facts, huh?" Nuzzling his head against hers, he continued, "I innocently spoke to some women backstage-"
"You openly flirted with dumb groupies."
"-and then you," he continued, "blew me off every time I tried to brighten your work day-"
"Yeah, Hunter, because I'm working."
Paul snorted. "You're playing secretary for your dad half the time. Without my intervention, you'd be burnt out by now."
"No," she retorted. "Shut up. And I'm not fucking jealous. You can go out and fuck one of those women right now, I don't-"
"Ooh, we're cursing, huh?"
"You're not-"
"I haven't fucked anyone else in two goddamn months, Steph." His tone dropped a bit, as he added, "Just you. You can't even say that, can you?"
She dug an elbow into his gut, just to hear the man pant. "Now who's jealous?"
"I'm not." His hand slid low then, stopping at the top of the sweats she'd worn to bed. "We can't be together."
"I know that."
"So," he continued, hand stroking at her lower stomach as Steph huffed, wondering if she'd just have to push down the sweats for the man, "we should just do whatever. Instead of clinging to something-"
"I'm not in love with you or something stupid if that's what you're building up to." She finally reached down to push the waistband of her pants lower. As her hips raised, to allow this, she made certain her ass brushed his crotch. As her sweats rested around her bent knees, Paul's hand now had the soft silk of her thong to stroke. To the man, Steph said, "This is just about sex to me."
He laughed, fingers tracing over the tiny strap of fabric over her hip. "Oh?"
"Mmmhmm." Stephanie ground her hips back into the man again. "Just sex."
"Nothing else?" Paul's hand fell over her hip, gripping tightly. "At all?"
"Not," Steph breathed as his grip relaxed and his fingers slipped beneath the thong's band, "a damn thing."
"That's funny." He pressed a kiss to her ear, open and with tongue, getting Steph to actually try and wiggle away from him then with a bit of a squeal. "It's not to me."
They needed to separate. Just a for a moment. Paul wanted out of his jeans then, desperately, while Steph needed to catch her breath.
"Liar," she accused as she turned back to face him but, kicking his jeans off, he was quick with a retort.
"I'm a romantic, baby."
"You're a flirt."
"I'm," he insisted as, with her eyes back on him, he found it hard to hide his smile, "funny. A comedian. I bring joy."
"Uh-huh."
"I can't help it if very attractive women need a pick-me-up from their long days of having to pretend to laugh at less funny people's jokes, can I?" He lulled his head to the side, just to stare into her eyes. "You want me to deprive other women of my comedic talents? For what, Steph, huh? Casual sex?"
She'd gotten caught, as she always did when he lapsed into the verbose jokes, watching his lips more than hearing his words. So she didn't have a ready response, to what he asked. As her eyes raised to his warm though, she found a response wasn't necessary.
"Because," he continued as, after kicking his jeans off, towards the end of the tucked in blankets, he turned to face her, "I absolutely will."
Steph blushed and hoped he couldn't tell beneath the blankets. Swallowing, she gave her best retort of, "Shut up," but it just made the man grin.
"You think," he questioned, "I'd rather be here with them? Than you?"
Paul's head fell forward, pressing into hers, as one of his hands shot out and up, towards her cheek. He grasped it, but released it just as quickly, working down until his palm laid of her throat. Thumb resting over the center, he let out a low breath as Steph roughly ground their heads together.
"Did I say that?" she asked and he let out a breath.
"No," he admitted as one of her hands fell to the wrist of the one he had around her throat, "but why are you so jealous then?"
"I'm not," she replied, fingers on his wrist turning until her nails faced his flesh, "jealous of those women."
He grimaced as her nails dug into above his veins. Around a tight breath, he gasped, "Yeah?"
Steph nodded, relenting. "Yeah."
"I believe you." He dropped his hand from her throat and her own slipped his arm, under his sleeve and up to his shoulder. "I mean, just look at you."
"Look at me," Steph repeated softly at his nod. As her hand snaked back down, his own slipped beneath her tank again, this time trying to shove it up.
"What do you have to be jealous of, huh? You're Stephanie fucking McMahon." He snickered when his finger brush a nipple, protruding and rigid. Running his curled finger up her free breast, he whispered, "You can have anything you want. Anyone."
"No."
"Yes." He tilted his head to brush a kiss over her tightly closed lips. Swiping his tongue across them, he smiled at her frown. "You're beautiful."
Steph took a breath, looking away to gather herself before retorting, "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Aren't you beautiful?"
He laughed. Too loudly, maybe, but he couldn't help it. Nuzzling his head against the woman's once more, he said, "Steph, I'm handsome. Dashing. Attractive. Hot. Beautiful is too feminine a word for the wonders-"
"You're hair's beautiful." He own hand came up to run through his gold locks, tied back out of the way. As her fingers toy with the band keeping his hair restrained, she added, "Full and lush."
"Steph-"
"And your eyes are pretty," she insisted as she flicked the hair tie away.
He frowned. "They are not. Now you're just-"
"They are to me." She ran a finger across the beard line he had from his sideburns to chin. "And I love your jaw."
"My what?"
"Your jaw." Her finger tapped the center of his chin, eyes alight. She didn't fight her grin, even, too lost in their moment now to care how they'd gotten there. That afternoon was the furthest thing from her mind; all she saw now was the man. "Very angular. Strong."
Paul let out a slight breath, equally confused by the woman's statements as he was intrigued. It was hardly the first time she'd escaped the man's endless word games by instead complimenting him.
He could be very self-absorbed at times.
But as he palmed her boob beneath the thin tank she wore, his focus was still clear. He'd been so worried that he'd blown this night, this time, with Steph, and yet her she was, full in his palm.
"Thanks, baby," he replied with a toothy grin. "But I'm not here to talk about me tonight."
"Oh?"
"Mmmhmm."
"That'd be a first."
His hand fell back down, to grip the hem of her shirt and Steph lifted up a bit, to allow it. As she shimmied out of the garment, he hummed lowly to her her amusement. Steph's laugh was caught by his kiss though and this time, she didn't fight the openness.
Steph fell to her back and when they broke apart, it was to stare up into the man's eyes. Paul remained on his side, closer to her now though as he leaned over the woman.
"I wanna talk about," he started up again and Steph groaned, unsuccessfully trying to pull him back down for more kisses, "how you're actually jealous of me."
"I'm not-" Steph frowned, the hand tangled in his hair stopping his stroking. "Wait, of you?"
"Yeah, of me." His eyelashes brushed hers when he brought head back down. "My attention, I mean."
That soured her, easily, but as she rolled her eyes and prepped a reply, Paul only pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before continuing.
"It's okay, baby, I get it," he insisted as, shifting back on his side some once more, his hand fell from her breast and ran back across her stomach. His fingers tickled all the way down to waist before coming again to their previous barrier; her thong. "You get all excited and hype about getting to spend the night with the Triple H."
"You're kidding yourself," she retorted, but she couldn't anywhere other than his equally as deep gaze. "Hunter."
He shook his head slightly, not fighting his grin when she instinctively did the same. Forefinger trailing over the front of her underwear, he whispered, "Does it make you mad, Stephie? Huh? You think I was paying them too much attention? You just need all my attention, don't you?"
"Please," Steph begged when his finger slid back up with more force. "Just-"
"Admit it, Stephie." He sucked a breath through clenched teeth as, this time, his fingers dipped beneath the fabric of her thong. Letting back out hotly against her ear, he insisted, "You don't like it, do you? When I talk to other women? Oooh," he hummed as his fingers met her warmth. "Or just other people in general, huh? Is that it, baby? You want me all to yourself. Huh?"
"Yes," Steph swallowed as she shifted, griping softly, "Paul-"
"I want you all the time too, Steph, fuck," he breathed at the moan she gave when his fingers ghosted her hole. "You think I don't get heated, huh? Watching you giggle and whisper with other guys up at work?"
"I don't," she defended, "do that."
"Oh, but you do, baby, you absolutely do, because I know that I do feel that way so fucking often because they don't get it, yet, do they, huh?" It was too fucking hot for Paul, beneath the blanket and he threw off them, the cool air of the hotel room equally refreshing as it was surprising. After they each had sucked in a fresh breath, he swore, "I feel dumb, baby, trying to explain how much I care about you."
"Then don't." They were shifting together as she pushed up then, fully free without the heavy blanket prison, to shove down her underwear and sweats fully. As the man turned his attention back to her breasts, capturing a boob with slick fingers, the woman promised, "I know."
The soft glow of the television highlight them both now, but he found her body far more tantalizing and wasted no time slipping further down the bed, so his lips could join his hand in properly pleasuring the woman. One of his knees fell between her legs as he leaned fully over her, lips suckling immediately at the closest tit while the woman mewled beneath him.
Steph's hands slipped beneath his t-shirt, but this made Paul pull fully back, onto his knees. Bundling the shirt's collar in one hand, he tugged the tee over his head and tossed it somewhere across the room. With his back to the television, its blue light could only offer Steph's shadows of his chiseled torso, but she loved it all the same. The groves and firmness beneath her fingertips as she ran both hands freely up his chest now, able to watch his nipples harden as her thumbs offered final flicks.
"Shit, Steph," he breathed as one of her hands, after venturing as far up as the woman could reach, fell back down to rub the heel of her palm against his growing erection. Breathing ragged, he questioned, "How could you think I wanna be anywhere else, huh?"
She wasn't sure, but pushing up again, she knew she wanted to be certain he wouldn't be. It was an awkward position, with him sitting up on his knees over her in that way. Paul thought she was just tugging his boxers down, but the second the band flipped over his hard, rigid cock, her mouth fell over the sensitive flesh.
His groan was guttural and deep then, equally surprised and enticed. Fingers threading through her hair, Paul watched through heavy lids as she swallowed him down, no hesitation. His hand lead her back up, or at least didn't try to force her back down, but when Steph glanced up at him through her lashes, holy hell did he want to.
"What's wrong, baby?" she asked softly as her hands tickled his balls and he wanted to take her home one day, to his home, for a lot of reason, even if it was impractical and would never happen, but fuck wasn't that what dreams were for? He dreamed of waking up to this, her lips on his dick, her hair coiled in his fingers, and an entire day, entire week, entire fucking life ahead of them to do all he imagined.
"I wanna fuck." He ran a hand over his face before tossing his hair back, out of his eyes. Licking his lips, he reiterated, "Right now."
"Right now?"
"Right now."
Stephanie was giggling and maybe he was too, if he could do that, because they both seemed to know what the other wanted without many words needed. Steph hiked the leg not trapped between his knees, the man's hand easily grasping it to position her better. As Steph fell more to her side once more, the man stayed on his knees, fiddling around behind his back for where his jeans had gotten off to.
"Mmmm, baby," he moaned as, finding his jeans, he quickly slipped a foil packet from their pocket. "How do much you need this?"
"So," Steph moaned as he dropped her leg for a moment, to rip the packet and slide the condom across himself, "much."
"Yeah?" He caught her leg again, spreading it for the other and giving him a better glimpse at the woman. Reaching out, his fingers graced her glistening center, just enough to rub a bit across the latex now covering his erection. It took no time at all, but somehow, every second not in Steph felt wasted. Positioning himself then, he swore to her, "Me too, baby. Fuck yeah, Steph, me too."
"God." Her head fell back and she knew too that they weren't somewhere safe, they were just in her hotel room with others on the other side of the headboard, but fuck, being with the man numbed her to the world. She couldn't even hear the stupid TV anymore. Just his noisy breaths and the rustling of the sheets beneath them as he slowly shifted back out of her. "Paul."
"Yeah?" As her leg hooked over his shoulder, he pressed further in, this time, hugging her thigh practically with one arm. "That good?"
She nodded, but her eyes were slipping closed and Paul did as he wished for a few moments, pumping as he wished into the woman as alternated between grasping her bouncing breasts or rubbing at her aching clit.
Paul needed more though, eventually, and dropped his hold on her leg to hunch over himself. One of his hands found Steph's fingers entwining as he moaned lowly and she whined his name, softly, truly.
"Too much?" he panted, but his head was closer now, with him hunched over, and she brought her fingers up from her clip to brush back a few of the sweaty, greasy strands of his hair, as she assured him otherwise.
"More," she breathed and he couldn't give her all that she deserved, fuck, they should gone to another hotel, they needed one, away from all the others, every fucking night if he could manage, shit.
He pounded her hard, but not for long, before pulling out against the woman's complaints and shifting.
"Goddamn," he cursed as he fell onto his side behind the woman. Pulling her closer, he positioned himself against her entrance, pausing to catch his breath before pressing in once more more.
"Baby." Steph curled her arm back, trying to find his head as she shifted the way the man's hand at her hip ushered. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Sinking fully into her, his hand left her hip for her throat once more. "Hell yeah."
It felt like he'd only been in the room a short while, but they never had forever, forever was for dreaming, when he was home, alone or not, thinking about bringing Steph there.
As long as this was casual, in hotel rooms, this was the most of the other either were going to get.
He spent himself buried deep in her as Steph sobbed hi name, among other things, a for a few moments after, all they had was the too loud television and one another. Their flesh, slick with one another's sweat, stuck together as they moved in unison to a more comfortable cuddle, if only for a minute or so. Steph found the remote tangled near her knees and turn the television off, finally, to leave them in actual silence.
"I won't," he swore when his lips were busy pressing tiny kisses along her back, "talk to another woman ever again. Another person. Just you. Princess. Promise."
"Shut up," Steph sighed as he snickered, nuzzling his head against her shoulder. "Hunter."
"What can I do, Steph?" he whispered, honestly then. "To not make you mad at me? About...anything, really, but should've just not-"
"You can do whatever you want." She felt silly now, flush with sweat and cum, at the thought of her anger from earlier. "We're not… We can't be together, like that, so… I just didn't… Like it."
"It?" he prompted because he didn't want to play this game with her again.
Well...maybe.
If the outcome was promised the same.
Somehow, he doubted it.
Steph huffed some though, annoyed at the topic, but equally intent on not having the conversation again.
"It's not like you were just talking with them," she huffed, shifting in his hold then so she could turn to face him. As the man fell to his back then, she rested on her side beside. "You were flirting with them."
"Was not." He didn't like this position as well, with her heavy gaze down on him. Frowning, he said, "I was being nice."
"You nicely let strangers touch all over you-"
"Yes, Steph, I again have the intense regret in informing you, I am Triple H, people will like to gawk at my sheer mass."
"Your- Shut up."
"Of course," he continued, "no one except you knows just how massive I am-"
"You don't have any pull, babe?" She raised an eyebrow. "No except me, huh?"
"I-" It was his turn to huff and retort, "Shut up."
"Don't tell me to shut up, you shut up." And, given she was better positioned for, Steph reached down to grasp his chin between her fingers, frowning as she said, "I'm telling you that I'm…sorry if I...was jealous of you with...fans."
"Thanks," he got out around her tight grip, but the woman wasn't done.
"It's just hard," she went on, releasing her grip and instead falling into his chest, "because half the time we're saying this stupid casual shit and the rest of the time we're saying-"
"I'm saying that because you say that, Steph," he interrupted. "You tell me that. When have I ever said it and not been joking, huh? Just cause we can't be out doesn't mean I'm not with you, fuck. Just… Calm down. There wasn't a single fucking woman backstage tonight I wouldda ditched out on you for. Not a fucking person. Shit. I was just having fun. But I won't. In that way. If it upsets you."
"It doesn't," she sighed. "It's more… You play around with things, with women you don't even know, but we can't? You can tell me that you love in in front of thousands of people every night on camera, but if you can't tell it to me when you walk me to my hotel room? Cause someone might hear? That's shitty."
"Yeah, baby, but…" He stroked softly as her dark brown hair, reminding gently, "That's reality."
Curling the others, she drove her pointer finger down into his chest, folding at the knuckle as she said, "I wish I was someone else. And then we could just be together. And be happy."
Paul considered this for a moment before saying, "Yeah, but if you weren't Stephanie McMahon, why the fuck would I wanna be with you?"
It took a moment, but once Stephanie processed his words, she titled her head back, to make a face at the shit eating grin his held. As she shoved harshly up, Steph was sure to dig a palm painfully hard into his chest, which of course got the man to shove up as well and she was giggling as he caught her, before she could leave the bed, tugging her back to his chest.
"I am happy, Stephanie," he grumbled as her hands ran down the arms encircling her, nuzzling her head back into the man's hold. "And we are together. Casually or not. I told you, this all new. Just… Give it more time. I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you. I want you. Stephanie. Believe me."
Letting out a breath, she promised the man, "I do."
They cleaned up together, in the bathroom, but when Steph muttered something about him having to leave, he promised he'd be gone before she woke up.
"Hunter," she asked softly as Paul tugged the blankets back up around them in the opposite bed now, glad to find them warm and undisturbed. "Do you think… Maybe tomorrow… I mean, if we both happen to go down to the lobby for breakfast at the same time-"
"If I saw my on television wife getting breakfast all alone," he sighed, "I think I'd have to ask her to have it with me. And definitely something better than the free shit down in the lobby."
"Then," Steph giggled, the hand stroking at his chest stalling out as her eyes slipped shut, "it's a date."
He rested with Steph only long enough for the woman fall asleep, knowing if he did the same, it wouldn't be until the sun was up that he awoke. When he slipped out from beneath her and out of the bed, Steph instinctively curled up, but gave no other signs of being awake. It wouldn't be until he was fully dressed again, shoes and all, that the slight exhale she gave, eyes still shut, that let him know she was still awake.
Walking back over to the head of the bed, Paul leaned down to nuzzle his head against hers.
"I love you." He kissed her head. "I'll see you soon."
Steph peaked an eye open, watching him drop the spare keycard on her nightstand before turning and finally leaving the room. It was only after he'd shut the door behind him that she drug one of the extra pillows from the head of the bed, down into her arms, and cuddled against it to wait out the next few hours.
Anyone else peep Fanfic's new "opt-in" thing about email alerts now? I assume they're trying to cut server costs (does that help?) and are using it kinda as a purge of dead accounts, but what it basically means is, ever six months, you have to go into your settings page and click the thing agreeing that, yes, you would like to receive alerts from the accounts/stories you've subscribed to.
Which isn't to say I post enough for that to be a concern, but unless you look at Fanfic's little twitter dash they have on the homepage, I could see how someone could miss this and thought I'd just mention it, for anyone who feels like they aren't getting alerts recently (which has also been a thing and a bug they haven't fixed).
It's fun being active on a site that actively wants us all to leave, right?