What Went Down

Somehow, they'd made it to the couch. She'd pulled her underwear back on, her bra, stolen his top from his hands and demanded that he stay shirtless for the rest of their dinner, and now she was curled up on her side, his arm loosely around her shoulder.

They'd not said a word about what had just happened.

She didn't know where to start.

Where could she start?

"Are we gonna talk about what that was?"

And apparently, he was thinking the exact same thing as well. "I'm pretty sure that was you fucking me in the kitchen."

She wasn't lying. Not in the slightest, and he knew it too, so the words in his mouth fell short as he contemplated how to respond to her bluntness. "Was that me sealing the deal?"

"No." Kenna gazed up at him through her eyelashes. "And I'm not gonna ask you to sign on the dotted line if that's your next comment. If you agree, you agree and I'll take your word for it. Just like you trusted my word when I told you I would give Ambrose and Rollins shots for the tag titles."

Roman didn't say anything as his eyes focused back on the ceiling above him, and she thought that maybe that was the end of the conversation. It wasn't. "Kane attacked us on Tuesday. Not as the monster, but as the Director of Operations. We can take that from him. Give his position to you. You want power? That's how you get it and wield it, and with The Shield at your side, no one would stand against you. Not even your brother."

She was impressed. They called Seth the Architect, but Roman was smarter than she could have possibly imagined.

Each member of The Shield had their strengths and weaknesses. Rollins was tactically flawless, five steps ahead of everyone else, thinking of possibilities and options, and the way he moved inside the ring was akin to an agile cat — he always managed to land on his feet. Always. Ambrose was irrational in every way and was definitely, without questions asked, the wild card. And Reigns? He was graceful but a powerhouse, fluid and lithe, strong in both his mind and body. He was smart. Maybe he'd always been, or maybe it was Seth's influence on him… but this was not the man her brother warned her about.

Kenna was talking aloud before she could think twice. "The Lunatic, the Architect, and the Samoan Powerhouse… No one would even get close."

"Say that last one again."

Her eyes shifted to his, head tilting at the way his pupils were blown, his lips parted. And as sultry slow as she could, Kenna said "Samoan Powerhouse".

It was like Roman snapped. His calloused hands grabbed at her waist, shifted her entire body like she was weightless, and then set her down right on his growing erection. Kenna sucked in a loud breath and pushed her hands against his bare torso for some balance, watched through half lidded eyes as his jaw dropped.

"Again…"

His voice was barely audible, but she felt it when his knuckle brushed against her darkly flushed cheek, and had to suck her bottom lip between her teeth when his pushed his hips up against her. But then his thumb was dragging her lip back out, pulling her jaw down to where he was waiting for her, and his tongue was pressing into her open mouth. The Samoan held her waist down against him tighter, jolted himself upwards, and the shocked cry at the back of Kenna's throat had him smirking like he'd won something.

His hands were so heavy, gripping her waist so tightly she knew it would leave bruises, but that was okay— because her fingers of one hand were digging into the skin of his chest, just under his tattoo, the other gripping tightly onto his shoulder.

Open mouths were pressed together, and Kenna found that he was drinking the breath right from her lips like it was the wine waiting for them on the table. His fingers tugged unapologetically at her underwear. "These are becoming a common problem," Roman murmured, pulling away just slightly to stare at her flushed face. "Should just leave them off."

Kenna let one of her legs fall to the floor and she pushed up onto it, started to slowly unbutton the top she was wearing, let it slide from her shoulders, let her bra follow suit, and then shimmied her lace underwear down and over her hips— and now she was stood in front of him naked. She kept her gaze locked on his as he admired the way her hips curved out, the shape of her breasts, the way her thighs led to where she was wet for him.

Roman reached out with a large hand, trailed his fingers down the line of her stomach and paused just above her thighs.

A moment passed.

And then another.

"Come here."

She listened to his command and with flushed cheeks, resumed her position straddling his body, her body sinking slowly onto his hard length as she let out a soft hiss. His hands were back on her waist, fingers sinking into unmarked skin, and Kenna started to move quicker on him, shifting her hips for angle, letting her head drop back as the undeniable pleasure started to affect her body.

Exerting herself on top of him had an almost surreal reaction— Kenna's skin was already covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the flush had crawled down her chest, her toes began to tingle… fingernails were digging into Roman's stomach as she balanced herself, and she stole a glance at the way his overbearing muscles flexed and relaxed to the time of her movements.

And in that fleeting second, her knee slipped off the couch and the way her foot landed sent a jarring shock through her being— and without really having control of her own body, she clenched around him and slowed to an almost unbearable pace.

Roman's breath caught in his throat as he pushed out a "fuck", his hands grabbing her hips that much tighter. "Kenna…" he hissed.

She knew why he'd wanted her to repeat his nickname, then. The sound of her name groaned by him, voice reverberating through his entire body— she never wanted him to say anything else.

So suddenly she didn't realise what was happened, Roman had shifted so he was behind her, his arm wrapped tight around her hips, his other hand firm between her shoulder blades and pressing her down against the armrest of the couch. And when he pushed into her, a loud and unrestrained moan flew from Kenna's mouth.

His thrusts were rough and harsh and she was meeting him at each one, one of his hands knotted in her hair, the other cupping a breast as his fingers teased her nipple.

From there, it didn't take long for either of them to finish, and the white, hot bliss that eclipsed her being made Kenna forget who she was.

—

Kenna wasn't sure where she was supposed to go from here.

There was a lit cigarette hanging limply from her fingers, and she wasn't where she was. Yes— she was in the garden of Hunter's mansion that overlooked a lake, and she was in Greenwich, and she was sitting on the wooden bench… but she wasn't.

She was lost in her head.

Because she didn't know where to go from here.

Her revelations during the 'date' had her mind reeling in so many ways she couldn't even begin to fathom what it meant.

Was she reading too far into the second sex position? Why hadn't he wanted to look at her? Had he been that desperate to finish that he didn't care, or had he cared too much? And her blush that he seemed infatuated with… she was so lost.

"I don't understand why you do that."

"Do what?"

Kenna raised her suddenly focused eyes to Hunter, smiled a little as he gestured to the cigarette. "Light it but not smoke it," he said. "You quit years ago."

"I quit smoking years ago. This," she held her hand up, "is just habit.

As her step-brother sat down next to her, Kenna let her eyes fall to the amber glow of the bud. "Thought you'd come out here and check out the scenery?"

"Thought I'd come out here and let you know that our flight leaves in an hour."

She frowned at him. "I thought our flight was at two."

"It is."

Oh.

Two hours. She'd been out here, thinking, mulling over Roman Reigns for two hours.

"What're you thinking about, Ken?"

Where did she even start? "You want this done before SummerSlam. I could have this done at Payback…" Hunter looked at her like he was confused. "Reigns. He's loyal, humble. He has this innate code of honor, pride, whatever you want to call it. And as much as he loves Ambrose and Rollins, what do all men in this industry crave? The WWE championships. As much as he loves them, he can't tell them that he's going after that title. So we'll use that against him."

Like he sensed it, Hunter murmured a quiet, "but?"

"But I'm afraid that won't be enough to pull them apart."

He regarded her with an open expression, eyes that were reading her own face like she was his. "You slept with him."

When she didn't answer, Hunter nodded to himself. "Use that. Get into his head—"

"I don't think I can…" Kenna shook her head and looked back out across the lake. "Even if I could, I don't think I could turn him against them."

"Get into their heads, then."

"How?"

"They're supposed to be brothers. Sleep with one, sleep with all."

Her eyes narrowed then, head turning sharply to glare at Hunter. "Are you telling me to sleep with all of them?"

"Ambrose."

"Oh my fucking God." A visible shudder rocked through her spine. "No. No, no fucking way. We find another— I find another way to do this, because there's no fucking chance in hell that I'm sleeping with that sleazy pig." Kenna stopped and glanced back down at the almost finished cigarette. "He's got too much Samoan honour in his heart to turn against them for me, anyway. No… but if he's protecting himself… maybe."

Now Hunter was intrigued. "Protecting himself?"

"If he thought Rollins and Ambrose were going to turn on him, would he not try to deal the first blow?"

"There we go…" her step-brother trailed off with a grin, "that's what we're after. You have a plan A, B and C to everything, you know? This is why we keep you around."

Kenna rolled her eyes and watched him stand and stretch out his back, let her eyes drift back to the pristine lake. It could work, if she twisted words the right way, if she got in their heads enough. They would unite to face a bigger threat, but the cracks would be breaking them apart from the inside out when the cameras were off, when they were behind closed doors.

"Oh, and Ken? Don't make the mistake of falling in love with him."

She didn't look at him as he walked away.

—

It was just an hour before the televised RAW event, and Kenna had to try and hide herself from prying eyes as she made her way towards the Shield's locker room. She was already prepared for the night ahead, dressed in a black playsuit with her usual khaki makeup, black ankle boots with heels bigger than they should be, and the skull tattoo on her thigh was peaking out just under the shorts.

Roman met her at the door.

"Anything I should know before I go in there?" Kenna asked lowly.

"They know what they need to know."

She tilted her head at him, furrowed her eyebrows. "You mean you haven't told them—"

"I've told them what they need to know."

"Us?"

"Do they need to know that?" Though his words we harsh, his eyes were soft, lips pulling a bit to the side in a soft smile. "They know you can help us get to the top and they know that you need our protection."

So he hadn't told them that he was getting a title shot.

"Okay," Kenna slowly nodded. "Let's get this over with."

Despite Dean's constant staring and never ending questions, Kenna found it very easy to fall into an easy and comfortable state in the room. Rollins was warming himself up with simple exercises and so was Dean, and Roman had excused himself from the room to change into his wrestling gear. So she stayed put on the couch with her legs pulled up underneath her and observed the group as quietly as she could.

"So Kenna," Rollins asked. "How are we supposed to take out Kane for you when he's your brother's lapdog?"

She regarded him with a strange look to her eyes. "Aren't you the Architect?"

Seth's jaw went slack in shock and his eyes narrowed, but her laughter stopped him. "Don't worry, Rollins. I'll go out there to open the show, call him out, we'll have a little chat, and you'll know when your moment to take him down is. It's simple, really. He's out, I run the show, and The Shield has their yard again."

"We going to get another shot at the Tag titles?" Ambrose questioned, his chin resting on his fist. "I mean, Kane was the one that came out and ruined that chance for us."

"You'll have your chance once he's gone."

"And we're just supposed to take your word for that?"

"Yes," Kenna shot back.

"'Cause, y'see, I don't really trust a lot of people, so you're gonna have to forgive me if I'm just a bit apprehensive when it comes to the big boss's lil' sis."

"Wow, apprehensive, huh? You know what that means? I'm surprised."

Dean's icy glare was holding her own as he shot out of his chair, his nostrils flaring, and suddenly she was very prepared for things to fly out of control. Her entire body tensed, but instead of reaching for her, he spat, "You saying I'm stupid?"

"Now you're just putting words in my mouth," Kenna replied cooly. "You're so easy to fire up, aren't you? But no, I don't think you're stupid at all. You're just a wild card when it comes to how you're going to react, so I need to know your moods before I do something stupid."

The door to the bathroom swung open with a light swoosh and Roman stepped out, his inquisitive eyes taking in his brooding stablemate and Seth's amused face. "You guys already at each other's throats?"

"She was bein' mean," Ambrose grumbled, and his lips pulled down into a pout.

"Why am I not surprised that you two ain't gettin' on?" The Samoan laughed quietly. He shook his head and sat down next to Kenna, smiled softly at her. "How's tonight looking?"

Kenna shrugged and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I have a feeling that Steph's not going to like being undermined. You guys might have to be prepared to do more than beat up Kane."

like i said- this won't be a slowburn fic and it won't be like my previous fics. with that being said, let me know what you think about this by leaving a comment or two ;)

also, all of these chapter titles are from songs that i feel fit the chapter well, and this one is What Went Down by Foals

all the love x