A/N: In defense of my Randy character…it appears that some people think he's a little harsh, brash, or what have you. If you read the first story, he was always like that. He was cocky and opinionated...nothing has changed. I wrote the character as a guy that was out to get ass…that's it. He admitted that he goes after ass, other characters talked about some of the foul shit he's done in the past, yet people were surprised. It shocked me that some people were unhappy with his comments to Jeff. That's who this guy is. But just because he's a guy that's all about sex, doesn't mean that he doesn't have a conscience. It's still amazing to me how many people took to his character, when he was just trying to get laid. Was it because it was a fat girl's skirt he was chasing that he became endearing? Now I will say this; Randy's a lot different around his girl then he is around his boys. He knows when to tone it down; he's not stupid.

As we move forward, you may see a side of these characters that you didn't think they had, or weren't in the first story. Neither Randy, Jeff nor Avery really talked much on their own nor did I go inside their heads; all three characters reacted to Parker. Well since they've all become central characters, I'm feeling them out and developing them as individuals.

Again, I ask that you trust me. As the story progresses things start to change...I hope that you will trust me enough to get you through it.

Thanks for the support...you guys rock!

If there was one thing Parker Sutton hated, it was for someone to constantly bang on her door. Not only was it just plain rude and showed the person's arrogance and impatience, but it also meant that whoever was on the outside was going to get their ass cussed out when she got to it. It also didn't help that she had just drifted off to sleep. Her pillows were strategically placed at the foot of her bed to help get some circulation back into her feet. The window in her bedroom was cracked, letting the damp breeze from outside drop the temperature to just above the hibernation level. It was perfect…and then the damn banging started.

She couldn't get mad. She knew, on the other side of the door, was the man that she had been waiting for over a month to see. But as much as she missed him, did he really have to bang on her door to the beat of Frank Ski's version of Doo-Doo Brown? Granted, the song had one of the best beats ever created, but at one in the morning, she was less than impressed.

Dragging her sore body from the bed, Parker didn't bother to put on any pants. Her grey Old Navy t-shirt, which she converted into a night shirt because it was long, served as pajamas. It didn't cover much, just stopping in the middle of her thighs in the front, but just under her ass in the back. That was one of the wonderful things about being overweight: clothes didn't fit the same on different parts of her body. Being a big girl, she was also graced with a big ass, but as long as she didn't bend over with that shirt on, it was all good.

Parker limped slowly on swollen feet that she swore had lost all feeling, toward the door. She stepped carefully on the balls of her feet to try to give her heels a break, feeling the pain shoot through her calves with each step she took. When she reached the door, she pulled it open and narrowed her eyes. "Who in the hell taught you how to knock?"

Randy Orton took a second to let his eyes sweep over Parker's body. She looked the same as the last time he saw her, minus the disheveled hair. She was still small and round, and absolutely beautiful. He didn't respond. Instead, he took two steps forward and leaned down, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. He didn't care that he was standing in the threshold of her apartment, or that they hadn't closed the door. If one of her neighbors happened to walk down the hall at that moment, they would've seen him running his hands up the back of her legs and under her shirt to check if she was wearing underwear. He really didn't give a fuck. That was one of the things Parker adored about Randy, he treated her the same no matter if they were in public or behind closed doors. They were seeing each other and he really didn't seem to mind who knew it.

Pulling back to breathe, Randy smiled at Parker. He planted several more kisses on her lips and dropped his bag on the floor. "I gotta take a leak."

Parker watched as Randy walked toward the bathroom. His muscular build filled out every inch of his t-shirt and blue jeans. Even fully dressed, she could see how cut and defined he was. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him. Unlike her, who seriously doubted she had any lean muscle left. Parker and Randy were like Jack Sprat. He could eat no fat, she could eat no lean. But betwixt the both of them, they licked the platter clean. The thought of the nursery rhyme made her shake her head.

She dragged his bag into her apartment and clicked the locks. From where she stood, she could see him standing above the toilet, with his pants lowered around his flat ass. It was one of the few downsides to this incredibly attractive man that graced her bathroom. But, it was a small price to pay for the rest of his body. Not she minded; she was sure he could list a number of things to comment about on her. "You could close the door."

"Or you could come in here and get a better view." He flushed the toilet and pulled his t-shirt over his head before washing his hands. He meant every word he had said to Jeff. There wouldn't be any serious conversations, not right away. In the bathroom on the middle of the floor laid his clothes, as he quickly shed them for what was to come. And as soon as he stepped out into her living room, he raised his brow. "Why ain't you naked yet?"

"Huh?"

Explaining himself would have taken too much time. Instead, Randy made his way over to Parker and pulled the shirt up over her head. "I ain't bullshitting. We got things to do." He loved the way her soft flesh felt against his hard muscle. So what if she was squishy? He actually liked that feeling. The extra pounds that she carried just meant there was more of her to squeeze. In a matter of seconds, he had transformed into an octopus, with hands that were everywhere all at the same time. There was so much of her feel, and truthfully, he couldn't get enough. He missed Parker and showing her how much meant more than telling her ever would.

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Parker's lips were soft against his before he trailed off to whisper in her ear. Trying to steady his breath enough to actually form a coherent sentence, Randy's words came out in a grunt. "You like that?"

She couldn't speak, not when he was moving like that. If there was one thing about Randy that Parker could count on, it was that Randy knew exactly what to do to make all the stress of life go away. Instead of telling him what she was feeling, she answered with a moan.

"Tell me you like it."

He always did that to her. He just had a way with words. She had never been with a man that talked more during sex in her life. And truthfully, it turned her on to no end. "You know I like it."

He could feel the goose bumps on the back of his neck, and the feeling of her fingers massaging his back didn't help him any. He had taken care of her already and was hoping to do it again before he ended. But some things couldn't be stopped and giving himself over to pleasure was one of them. Collapsing on top of her, Randy took a minute to catch his breath. She was still running her fingers up his back. He would never get himself together if she didn't stop. Rolling over to his side, he wedged his head in the bend of her neck. "Damn girl. Shit." He laid there completely still, letting the ceiling fan cool his sweaty body. He couldn't stop the chuckle that came from him. It always happened like this.

Parker was really close to drifting off. It had been an extremely long day and this was perfect ending to it. "What's so funny?"

"I'm hungry." Kissing her shoulder, Randy let his arm come around her body. "Don't you wanna fix me a sandwich?"

Apparently Randy's brains had seeped out with his orgasm. She couldn't walk on her sore legs if her life depended on it. Paying him no attention, Parker closed her eyes and settled on her side. "No. Fix it yourself. I'm tired."

"Fine." Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Randy sat up and looked back at Parker. "You want something?" He watched as she shook her head and made his naked way to the kitchen.

She couldn't have been asleep for more than five minutes before Randy was back in the room, talking to her. Hadn't he been up driving all night? Listening to him talk about whatever he was he talking about was annoying enough, but listening to him chew while he did it was even more so. Randy was truly rough around the edges. He meant well, he really did, but he was such a boy sometimes that it was amusing.

Stuffing the last of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his mouth, Randy dusted the crumbs off of his hands before sitting back on the bed. "Okay, tell me where it hurts."

"My legs and my feet," she managed to say through the muffled sound of her face on the pillow. She let out a sigh as soon as she felt his hands work their magic. He used his thumbs to deeply massage the bunched muscles in her calf before working his way down to her foot. Gently gripping her heel in his hand, he paid particular attention to her arch and getting the circulation back to her toes. "So what time is this thing tomorrow?"

"Three-thirty." She couldn't help but to whine, his hands felt heavenly. She didn't want to think about tomorrow or anything else, only what his hands were doing to her feet. "Just so you know, my mom told everyone that I was bringing my boyfriend."

Randy continued his massage and thought about what that title entailed. He'd never been a boyfriend before, but it could have been much different than being a…whatever he was to Parker. "So what's wrong with that?"

"Besides the fact that you aren't? Nothing."

He couldn't believe he was about to have this conversation. He had never in his life wanted to be in a relationship. There was just too much ass out there to be tied down. But somehow, he didn't mind so much right now. "Well what would you call me, then? I mean, what are we doing?"

"We're having fun." She wasn't about to go there with him. No matter what she wanted, there was too much involved to be involved. "We're hanging out. It's light; no strings attached. It's whatever."

"But I'm saying, what's so different about what we're doing than being in a relationship? I mean, we talk all the time, we visit, hang out…I'm puttin' it to you. What's the difference?" He wasn't trying to be a smart ass, he just didn't understand. Randy wasn't the type to come out and say that he wanted to move forward. He had this thing about being shot down, it was one of the reasons he never put himself out there. Granted, he had never been turned down, but he wasn't about to ruin his perfect track record, either.

It was entirely too late and she was too tired to go into this. But knowing Randy, like she did, he wouldn't stop talking until she answered him. "I dunno. It's not like I have a lot experience or anything. Fat girls like me don't exactly have guys beating down the door to get to us. I've never had a boyfriend before. But judging from what I've seen, I guess, in relationships, you establish some boundaries, expectations? Set some rules? No screwing around being the main one."

"Well I ain't digging in nothin' else…"

"Randy," She whined, "can we please talk about this in the morning? I'm tired."

Why was she avoiding the topic? Randy placed her leg on his lap and looked at her. "You letting somebody else get all up in there?" Was she sleeping with someone else? Was that the reason that she didn't want to be with him? He didn't have a lot of time, but he made it a point to spend what little he did have with her. Was it enough? Was he too vulgar to be around her family and friends? Did his reputation make him undesirable? He was Randy Orton. Who says no to that?

"No, Randy. It just…" How could she put it into words that he would understand? To Randy, there was nothing wrong with her. But to the rest of the world, a guy like him should never be with a girl like her. She wasn't society's picture of desirable. "Look at me. This is what I look like. I'm a sexy as hell, we both know this. But you could draw a picture if you connected my stretch marks. I have a belly, and rolls and dimples. I don't look like the girls you work with; I can never look like them. Are you okay with that? It's fine for a few of your friends to know that we mess with each other. But for everyone to know that we're in a relationship? Can you handle that? Before you answer, you need to ask yourself, is this really what you wanna come home to?"

That was the stupidest excuse for not being in a relationship with him that he had ever heard. If she didn't want him, that's all she had to say. It still didn't make sense to him. How many times did he have to tell her she was perfect to him? Crawling up her body, he shimmied his waist between her legs. He rested his weight on his elbows and gently ran his thumb over the temple. "Pooh, I been coming home to you. I don't give a fuck what people think. Can you handle that?" He regarded the thoughtful way she chewed her lip. "I like what we got going. And I'm not promising that I'm gonna be a good boyfriend. I've never been one before. I was always chasing ass, but I'm liking this one. If you wanna take this thing to the next level, I'm down."

She could kiss him forever, and normally, she wouldn't mind the way his waist was wiggling. "Oh, no. Not again. I'm tired. I've been up for over twenty-four hours. I need to sleep."

"So go to sleep. I don't need you awake for this." Gently, moving his mouth down to her breasts, he looked up at her. "Me and the girls will be just fine by ourselves."

Why she even bothered to try to resist him was beyond her. As soon as his warm mouth closed down around her breast, she knew what was up. It no longer mattered how tired she was; Parker Sutton was going to make love to her new boyfriend and not even fatigue was going to stop that.