Welcome to My World

Britain had to meet Dave at the hotel at four o'clock; they would go to her house to drop off his stuff and she had to be at hall by six. The show started at eight and she should be finished by ten. Then there was the after-party, which wasn't mandatory, but if she wanted to continue to work, she had to be there. And once all of that was done, it would just be she and Dave and there would be no interruptions. It was to be a busy day, but the rewards that night outweighed the hectic schedule.

Anxious as all hell, Britain cleaned like a crazy person. She had already scrubbed the bathroom twice, but now she was going back in for the third time. She didn't know why she felt like she needed to impress him, she never felt like that before. But then again, Dave Batista had never been to her condo. She couldn't remember the last time she invited a guy she was dating to her home; she needed to give her place an extra thorough cleaning.

Once she finished the bathroom for the third time, she returned to her bedroom with the vacuum. It had to be perfect, she needed to have even vacuum lines on the carpet or she would never get to the hotel by four o'clock. As she plugged the appliance into the wall, she couldn't help but to smile at the conversation she had earlier with Dave.

"What are you doing?" He asked at the sound of things being shuffled around. He turned the volume up on his phone to try to get a better listen.

"I'm cleaning my room. What do you think I'm doing?" Britain sat on her bed, shredding pieces of mail that she should have gotten to months ago. In all fairness, she was hardly home as it was, so the mail could wait.

Dave chuckled. "You don't have to clean for me. I want to see the real you…slob and all."

"I'm not a slob. It's just I haven't been home in a while and the place needs a once over. Besides, my bedroom is the only thing that really needs cleaning. You can't even walk in here right now. I've got shit all over the place from my last trip."

Dave looked around the airport at the sign showing the flight numbers. His flight wasn't due to take off for another hour. "I know what this is. You're trying to hide the My Little Pony toys and the Hello Kitty bedspread, aren't you?" He laughed when she scoffed.

"What am I, a child? You have no idea what my room is like."

Dave closed his eyes and imagined her bedroom. "Sure…I bet it's pink and very girly. You probably have a white canopy bed in the middle of the room and white fluffy carpets. You have a bookcase that has all of your stuffed animals from when you were little and a curio with a Barbie collection in it…right?"

"Fuck you, man. First off, I've never played with Barbie and I don't know the last time I've even held a stuffed animal." Britain looked around her room and smiled. "You're in for such a shock. Trust me. My room is definitely me; it says more about me than any other room in here."

"I can't wait to see it." Dave sighed. "I'm gonna get some food; I'll see you in a few hours."

She vacuumed in record time and smiled at the finished product. Her condo looked like the model they showed to prospective buyers. It was immaculate; there was nothing else to do. Britain sucked in her breath to settle the butterflies, grabbed her keys and headed out the door.

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Dave looked up with a huge smile as soon as he saw Britain walk through the revolving doors. She looked like it was just another day in Miami. She was wearing a very, very short cut off denim skirt and a blue tank top with matching blue flip-flops. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and on the top of her head were a pair of oversized sunglasses. She was talking on her cell phone and smiling. She tossed her keys around in her hand totally ignoring everything and everyone around her. He wondered how she could be so calm when she was doing a fashion show in front of fashion big wigs, designers, the press, and every other who's who in a matter of hours. But as soon as she spotted him, none of that mattered anymore. That smile was enough to make him forget that she had to work; all he could think about was spending countless uninterrupted hours with her.

Britain closed her phone and made her way over to the lobby. She smiled when Randy and John stood up to greet her. "Hi." She said to John, accepting the warm hug he pulled her into.

"What up B?" John smelled her hair and instantly closed his eyes. Although he was attracted to Britain, she wasn't really his type, but there was no way he could deny that she was intoxicating. "So you doin' the damn thing tonight?"

Britain nodded while hugging Randy. "I'm so glad you guys are coming."

Randy kissed the side of her head. "Are you shitting me? There are gonna be half naked models there right?"

"I guess."

"Oh we'll be there." Randy smiled as he watched Britain stand in front of a pouting Dave. He had never seen Dave become so attached to anyone so quickly.

Britain studied Dave's face. He seemed happy to see her a few moments ago, but now he was pouting. "And why is little Davey pouting?" It was something in his pout that reminded her of a little boy. He was cute when he pouted.

"Why do they get hugs and kisses before me?" He stood up and closed his eyes when he felt her arms encircle his midsection.

Britain titled her head up toward him. "I was saving the best for last." She would never grow tired of his kisses. Each one was different; each one made her toes curl.

"Thank God. B, please take this whinin' bitch away." John placed his hand on his hips. "If you ain't get here soon, I was gonna have to kick his ass."

For two weeks straight they all had to listen to Dave talk about Britain. They heard about how funny she was, and how sweet, how thoughtful, and all the plans they had made while he was to be in Miami. It got to the point that either wanted him to go early or just shut the fuck up. All of his friends could see it; Dave was falling hard for this woman.

"Here are your invitations and directions. The show starts at eight, so you might want to get there around seven thirty." She turned to Dave who was gathering his bags. "You ready?"

"Yeah." They walked across the parking lot in search for her car. "Why do you strike me as a Volkswagen Beetle kinda girl?"

Britain turned around and looked at him like he had two heads. She had no idea why he had this girly-girl image of her. Sure she was girly, but not girly. She was rough around the edges, something that years of growing up in the inner city and having to fight for her dignity brought out of her. As they crossed over a row of cars, she hit the automatic lock button on her truck and smiled.

"A Cayenne? Why the hell do you need a Cayenne?" Dave was impressed. The truck was tricked out. It was silver in color with tattoo graphics on the doors. The inside was butter leather with her initials, BMW, on the head rests. From the looks of the stereo, it was top of the line and the sub-woofers in the trunk proved that point.

Britain shrugged. "I like cars. Besides, I didn't know when I'd get a big boyfriend that I'd have to haul around." She felt herself being pushed up against the side of the truck and smiled when Dave's face was inches from hers.

"Say that again." His voice was low and he could feel her breath dance across his face.

"I didn't know when I'd have a big boyfriend?"

A slow smile crossed his face. "I like the sound of that…boyfriend." If they didn't have somewhere to be, he would have taken her in that truck, right in the parking lot of the hotel, but there would be plenty of time for that later.

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Dave walked behind her as she gave him the tour of her condo. He was completely awestruck. The deep cherry wood color of the hardwood floors in the living room were set off by the two black leather couches, a huge fireplace, a plasma TV on the wall, and a glass coffee table, which housed one book, The Mapplethorpe Photos. He raised his brow at that one, but he'd ask her about it later.

He followed her down the hall toward the dining room, which she admitted to never eating in. Apparently she was never home long enough to have company over, so that room went unused. The dining table was black with a glass top and high back chairs which were already decorated as if she had a party of eight waiting to come over. To the left of the dining room was a chef-sized kitchen. Again he raised his brow when she said she loved to cook. She didn't look domestic, that's for damn sure. But he noticed from all of the silver Kitchen Aid appliances which let him know that she knew her stuff and was excited that she might actually cook for him.

The room off of the dining room was the Great Room. Inside were white wicker chairs, a big screen TV, and the most exquisite view of the Atlantic Ocean. The powder room in the Great room was in a beach motif. And what better inspiration than the view from the window? Her condo was literally on the beach; if he stepped out on the balcony he could probably feel the spray on his face. As they walked back into the kitchen, they turned toward the main hallway; she showed him the master bathroom. That bathroom was her favorite. It was done in white and grey marble with a free standing glass bowl for the sink, a double shower, and the largest claw foot tub he had ever seen. Everything from the pillars to the Roman candles in that room reminded him of those ancient bathhouses he'd read about in history class. She definitely had taste; only he had no idea how much.

The guest room was probably the only room in the house that didn't match. It was simple: a queen sized bed, a TV, two chairs, and a dresser. The room was sandpaper colored and it was peaceful, but had no sense of Britain's flare. She said it was because she wanted her guests to be comfortable. She didn't want to weird anyone out with her tastes if they had to sleep there.

Britain paused when they got to her bedroom door. "Ok…it's Hello Kitty time." She opened the door and laughed at Dave's reaction.

Her bedroom was huge. It was easily the largest room in the house. He guessed that silver was her favorite color because the three of the walls were done that way and the fourth wall was nothing but a giant mirror. The king sized bed sat on a platform that had three steps to take you up to it. There were white satin sheets on the bed and a large comforter. Judging from the height of the mattress, it was a pillow top. She had four dressers and two large closets; apparently she liked to shop. All of the furniture was white and the dressers varied in size and shape. She had a plasma TV mounted to her wall and photos all over the place.

When Dave looked up, he looked back down at her confused. "You're not vain, so what's with all the mirrors?"

Britain shrugged. "I don't know. I knew one day some guy would get lucky enough to make it to my bedroom." The look on his face was priceless. "No, the guy that owned this place before me had mirrors on the ceiling. I liked them, so I left them."

This was going to be interesting, to say the least. The entire ceiling was mirrored and that one wall was too. From pretty much any angle, he could watch them. The possibilities were endless.

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Britain was nervous; she was never nervous when she worked. Of course she always dreaded that she was going to fall off the runway or trip in those impossible heels they put her in, but she was never scared before. It had a lot to do with the fact that Dave, John, Randy, Ric, Hunter, Jericho, and Eddie were all in the audience. If she screwed up, they would all see it. Plus, what she was modeling gave her butterflies. She had purposely not told any of them what the show was. They would find out soon enough.

She wasn't having a good time back stage. To start, she hated make-up and those damn people insisted on caking that shit on her face. Her normal hairstylist was out sick and the woman replacing her had no idea what to do with an ethnic hair type. After what seemed like forever, the incompetent hairstylist managed to pile Britain's long hair on the top of her head and used enough hair spray to drown a small country. It was only for two hours; she could deal with it for that long. She barely made it to the stage door when her spot was called. She steadied her breath and put on a serious face as she headed out.

Randy sat around eagerly pointing out people to John, as if he didn't know who they were. When they came around with the programs, Randy thought he had died and gone to heaven. "Victoria's Secret? Are you shitting me? This is a Tricky Vicky show?" It was all Randy could do not to hump the stage. He turned to Dave and rolled his eyes. "You are a lucky fucker."

Suddenly everyone got quiet when the first models steeped on the stage. The first outfit Britain wore was simple; a white satin night gown. It was short, stopping at her thighs, and had a long robe that covered mostly everything. She walked down, one foot in front of the other, swaying her hips to the music, and paying no attention to her guests in the audience. If she looked at them, she would've messed up. It wasn't until she reached the bottom of the runway and posed did she remove the robe. Her entire back was bare and the nightgown did not start again until way past the small of her back revealing the white thong she was wearing.

Dave couldn't breathe if he tried. He had no problems with what she was wearing, but the fact that she looked that damn good wearing it made him force himself to sit still. He totally drowned out Randy and John's comments. He would kick their asses later. He couldn't get that nightgown off of his mind.

By the time she was up again, she had changed into her second number of the night. This time it was a pink lace chemise that was so short that if she bent over, Dave could see what she ate for breakfast. He instantly felt his pants change shape and he placed his hands in his lap to hide his ever growing erection. "That's the one." He said out loud, causing Ric to look over at him. He wanted her in that outfit…he didn't know how to get it or what size he needed to get it in, but he knew he had to have it.

He watched her silently the rest of the night modeling lingerie, and underwear...and everything else. She was beautiful, she was sexy; she was perfect. She never once lost that edge. Every time she stepped out behind that curtain, she was a pro. He had never been so amazed before. He had no idea what modeling was all about. It was more than wearing pretty clothes; it was bring those clothes to life and Britain did it to perfection.

When it was all said and done, Britain walked over to where they were standing and tried to hide her blush when they applauded her. She was practically tackled by Eddie before she could even get close to them. "I forgot how much I love to watch you. You were beautiful."

"Thank you." Her smile was genuine, almost like a child being praised by a parent. "Did you really like it?"

"Buttercup, no matter how many of these I've been to, you never cease to amaze me." Jericho said hugging her next.

Even Ric hugged her and told her how well she did. She was a little uncomfortable, but she was on a high from the evening that wouldn't go away. And of course, John and Randy could only ask her about the other models and if they would be at the after party. By the time she reached Dave, he had this look on his face that she couldn't place. She felt her heart speed up, what if he was pissed? It wouldn't be the first time that had happened.

"I should have told you before what the show was." She said quietly putting her head down and picking at her nail polish. "I shouldn't have just sprung it on you like that. I'm sorry."

Dave looked at her quizzically. "Why are you sorry? You looked…oh my God. That was amazing."

Britain's head shot up and a slow smile danced on her lips. "Really? You're not pissed?"

"Why would I be upset?" He couldn't mistake the look in her eyes. There was something there that bordered on mistrust and insecurity. "You are absolutely breathtaking." He wrapped her in a warm hug, trying not to stick his chest out at how proud of her he was. "I have never seen anything like that before." He leaned down and kissed her softly. "When we can we get outta here? There were a couple of outfits I can't stop thinking about…"

Britain smiled. "We have to make a guest appearance at a party and then I'm all yours."

"That sounds good to me." Dave quickly gathered her belongings and they all made their way out of the door.

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Their time at the after party was short lived. It the usual for Britain: schmoozing, meeting new designers, taking pictures for magazines. But once that was done, she took on the task of introducing Randy and John to a few of her friends. The other girls were all too happy to meet them. So much in fact that Randy and John each left with a few women before Dave and Britain did.

"Have him at the gym on time tomorrow." Those were the first words that Hunter spoke to her all night. His tone of voice was condescending and he never once looked at her.

Britain raised her brow and looked at Ric who shrugged his shoulders. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Hunter sat down his drink and placed his elbows on the table. "We have an investment in him and I don't have time for you shaking your ass in his face and fucking it up."

"That's enough." Ric stepped in. He didn't know what Hunter's problem was, but he didn't like his tone.

Hunter shot Ric a look and then looked back at Britain. "This little thing with you is cute right now…but Dave's about to step up into the big leagues. I'm not letting you fuck it up."

"Ok, I don't know what crawled up your ass and died, but I don't appreciate you suggesting that I'm bringing him down." She never really understood why Hunter acted the way he did around her. But she sure as hell wasn't afraid of him. "I have nothing to do with Dave's career."

Hunter laughed. "No? What was it they use to call you? Eight ball?" He watched as her eyes grew large. "How do you think that'll go over? Enjoy it now because this shit is ending with the quickness. You're low class and you're bad for his image."

How did he know? How much did he know? Who told him? She thought she only had to worry about Ric, but now Hunter too? She couldn't say anything because Dave made his way back to the table. Britain wanted to cry, to scream… to whip Hunter's ass.

"You ready?" Dave asked softly.

Britain nodded. She needed to get the fuck away from Hunter. She completely missed the look on Ric's face; the look that said that he would support her and he would keep Hunter in line. All she knew was that her wonderful day had completely gone to shit. "Yeah. Let's go." She didn't even turn around to say goodnight. She just wanted out.

Dave watched her confused, but followed her silently. He noticed how quiet she was on the way back to her condo. She had barely said two words to him the whole drive. As soon as they got back to her place, he wrapped his arms around her. "Are you ok?"

Britain put on her fakest smile and nodded. "I'm just tired. I think the adrenaline rush is wearing off." She turned away from him and walked toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower and get all of this shit out of my hair."

Dave stood back and watched her. Something was wrong and he was going to find out what it was.

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Clarity came to Britain in the shower. Hunter wanted them not to be together, no matter what she wanted. She wasn't about to give Dave up, but she sure as hell wasn't going to get any closer to him. Not when she knew that as soon as he found out, he would be out of there so fast it would make her head spin. She could distance herself from him. They didn't see each other that much as it was; she just didn't have to talk to him between visits. She didn't have to get close to him. She could do this…she was Britain Weis.

She dressed for bed in a t-shirt. There was no need in doing anything more, Hunter deflated the wind in her sails. She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom pulling a comb through her wet hair and looked at his face as he stood behind her.

Dave took the comb and started the task of detangling. "I love your hair." He said softly using one hand to untangle the waves and the other hand to pull the comb through.

"I hate it. I can't tell you how bad I want to cut it." This was going to be harder than she thought. How was she not supposed to get sucked in to those brown eyes and that smile? His arms were so warm and protective, how could she not lose herself in them?

Dave sat down the comb and gathered her hair in his hand. "No…don't cut it. It's beautiful."

"It's fucking heavy and time consuming." She watched him in the mirror and raised her brow. "What are you doing?"

With his tongue positioned on his top lip in heavy concentration, Dave separated her hair into three parts. "I'm braiding it."

"So you know how to braid now?" He was too good to be true. Who was she kidding? She couldn't walk away from him if she tried.

"I have…three daughters…" He paused as he spoke because he needed to concentrate. "You don't …have three girls… without…learning…a thing…or two…about hair braiding." He continued the French braid and brought his brows together as he tried to make it perfect.

Britain was shocked. She couldn't stop smiling. He even plaited the ends of her hair. His fingers were so gentle, unlike her mother's who she swore had pieces of her brain wrapped in her tight braids. "You're really good at this."

Dave shrugged, holding up the plait. "I don't really know how to do the ends, so you gotta put something on it." Britain handed him a ponytail holder and watched as he carefully secured his creation. "All done."

That was single most romantic, sincere, heart warming thing anyone had ever done for her. She could feel her eyes tearing at the sentiment. She let him lead her to her bed and climbed in next to him. She was in trouble; it felt too right to be in his arms.

"You were great tonight. I never knew so much went into a fashion show." Dave ran his fingers lightly down her arm. It felt like her head belonged on his chest. He hadn't gotten a peaceful night's sleep since the last day she was there because she wasn't beside him.

"I didn't do anything. I just walked."

"You just brought those outfits to life." He kissed the top of her head. "How do you change so fast?"

Britain smiled. Backstage was a mess. "Well, each model has a booth with a mirror and a chair. They lay out your clothes and each of us has a hair and make-up person. You get dressed, you walk, you come back, and before you get to your station, you start stripping. There's usually someone around to help you get into the next get-up so you can be back out on time."

"Are there guys back there?" He suddenly felt himself get a little jealous. "I mean, they watch you strip?"

"It's so crazy that I don't think anyone notices. I use to hate it when I first started. But now, I don't even realize they're there." She closed her eyes against the beating of his heart. "You wanna know the best part? I get to keep all of the clothes."

Dave smiled and asked excitedly. "Even the pink one?"

Britain raised her head and smiled. "Especially the pink one." She had been dying to be in his arms and kiss him all day. They had the entire night together and no one was going to ruin that. There was no way she was giving him up, not for Hunter or anyone else.

Fuck Hunter! If he wanted to play, she would fucking play. As Britain and Dave made love, she prayed that her decision wouldn't blow up in her face.