ANNOUNCEMENTS
It's been a month. Yes, I said it. One month, since my relationship with Mark--or shall I say, Taker--began, and all I can say is...
Time sure flies by when you're sneaking around.
I know, I know..I shouldn't say things like that and I also know I shouldn't keep this from Matt or Jeff, but...I don't know. I just haven't wanted to share my relationship with Mark with anyone.
I mean, yes, I've wanted someone, anyone really, to know how happy Mark and I are together, but...I also know how close minded and talkative some of the people I hang around with can be, and I dont want my relationship with Mark to be locker room gossip, or my relationship with Mark to be looked down on because he's the Undertaker, the Official American Bad ass and because I'm Lita, The Hardyz Pimpstress.
It's just not going to happen--if I have anything to say about it, that is.
I stop writing to reread over the paragraph I just wrote and after quickly noticing that I have taken to stealing Mark's labels about him and I in the wrestling world and have used them in my journal entries as well, I cant help but burst into giggles; something I've caught myself doing more and more ever since I've started dating Mark.
"First, he steals my heart, and now I'm stealing his words. We're a couple of thieves, I tell ya."
My slightly annoying laughter stops as the door to my suite opens, but I don't even bother getting up to see who it is, knowing already that the only person who has a key to my room, besides me, is Mark.
"Hey Red," he says, coming out onto the balcony, where I'm seated, and eying the outdoors recliner that I'm seated in, "Mind if I sit with ya?"
Scooting over for him to sit down, I give him one of my infamous smirks, that he says makes him melt, "Thought you'd never ask."
After chuckling, he sits down next to me and pulls me towards him so we're laying down in his favorite position; the spooning position. "Busy day, baby...busy day."
"I'm sorry," I say, tilting my head up, and to the left of me, so I can give him a peck on his lips; something that I've found myself doing more and more as the weeks go by, "Want to talk about it?"
"Not really," he says, leaning down to give me another kiss, before straightening back up, and resting his head on my shoulder, "but I'm guessing you're going to have to hear about it sooner or later."
Raising an eyebrow at his seriousness, I move myself out of his embrace, a little bit, so I can see his facial expression, "What's going on?"
I can tell he's amused at my worried expression, but he doesn't dare speak of it, knowing if he does he'll get one of my famous glares, "It's nothing really, I just had a meeting with Flair and McMahon today."
"Really?" I say, more than interested now; I had heard that Ric and Vince were going to be calling people in about the upcoming split, the one that wouldn't be taking place until the middle of next year, mind you; but I didn't really know exactly what they were going to cover in it..and I was more than slightly interested. "So, what did they say?"
"Well," Mark began, having fun drawing out the suspense as far as he could, "they said their thinking of havin' an 80's versus the 90's type of thing where Taker feuds with Flair and has everyone hyped up and into it all. And then, after all is said and done, and Flair beats me for the belt, their planning on having the Ministry come back and take over whatever show Flair will be hosting--that is, until I retire sometime next year, or the following year after that."
"Wow," I can't help but say a few minutes after he stops talking, but then just as quickly as my speechlessness hits me, it quickly goes away, leaving me drawn to him with confusion, "but what does that have to do with me. You said I'm going to have to hear about it sooner or later."
"Well...." he begins, sitting up and this time, I cant help but notice that I dont see any signs of amusement on his face, "their planning on having me stalk another one of the female wrestlers--this time, this time, the woman in question being the opposite of Stephanie McMahon-Hemsley."
After thinking quickly, I make a face at to who the opposite of Stephanie McMahon-Hemsley could be, in my book, "Their having you stalk Molly Holly?"
Mark slightly chuckles at the thought, but nevertheless shakes his head, telling me thats not who it is, "Their thinking of someone more daring..someone more athletic...someone more...redder."
As the last word slips out of his mouth, my whole body seems like it's going in shock, leaving my mind with only one thought, or rather I say, two thoughts: "What....? Why?"
Mark sighs, and part of me feels bad, wanting to take my words back as I can tell that he was hoping my reaction would be slightly different; but the other part of me, the more realistic part of me, can't help but think the same thing that I spoke up: Why? Why would they want me in this storyline?
I mean, I had watched the Ministry the year before I had joined the WWF and it was one of the most talked about storylines in history; and I know, full well, that anything I could do, or anything I could bring to the WWF, would never, or could never, compare to anything the Ministry stood for, or anything that it would go down in history for.
And that was the truth.
"Well, to be honest, Red. I don't have a clue," Mark says, bringing me out of my thoughts with another sigh, "but I do know that if, by chance, we did it, and the crowd approved of it, well, then I'd be forced to spend most of my time with my beautiful girlfriend, and that's something that I would not and could not turn down for the world."
At hearing Mark's sappy words, I can't help but lean up and greet his lips with my own, ending the short, but sweet kiss with a sugary sweet smile of my own, "Ya know, when I think I have you and my thoughts all figured out, you always have to go and say something so sweet, and so beautiful, that it makes me side with you every time."
Mark chuckles at this statement, and leans in again, giving me a kiss that is slightly longer than the previous one, and more mind boggling than the previous one, as well, "Well, I don't know if that can be concluded as a compliment, but I'm taking it that you've reconsidered your whole point of view on joining the darkside with me."
"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that," I began, eying him, teasingly, as I lean back in the recliner, making it so that the only way he would be able to sit comfortable on the thing is if he sits or lye's on top of me, "but I will say, it looks more and more tempting each time I think about it."
"Oh really...? Well, how about I give you something else to think about."
And with that being said, Mark climbs on top of me, and beings to initiate a kiss that is so powerful, and that is so passionate, that it almost makes me forget anything and everything that I've ever learned..including my own name.
"Mmm, Mark," I say, not being able to stop my moaning as I feel his hands take a hold of my breast, underneath my shirt; his callously palms causing my nipples to advert up in a nub position, and hurt from the intensity of the hardness of them both, "If you don't stop..."
"If I don't stop...what?" He says, not bothering to look at me, or stop what he's doing as well; just moving his mouth from my lips to my neck, where he knows my sweet spot is.
"If you don't stop-" I begin, but am interrupted by a fierce moan that comes out of my mouth--as his tongue hits the sweet spot that I was referring to before--and also by a fierce vibrating motion near my hip bone, that causes us both to jump apart. "Dammit!"
While yanking the beeper off of my pants, he chuckles at my anger--which is directed towards the person who interrupted us, at the moment--but he also throws off a couple of swears of his own, telling me that he's not happy about the interruption as well.
"Shit," I say, ignoring his curses, after reading the number that is displayed on my beeper; causing me to quickly move Mark off of me so I can get up, "we're late."
"We are?" Mark says, moving off the recliner so I can get up, and then following me back into my room, as I walk away from him, "for what?"
"For dinner," I say, before stopping, and turning around to face him, wearing, hopefully, a cool and calm look, "we're late for dinner...with Jeff and Matt."
It's been a month. Yes, I said it. One month, since my relationship with Mark--or shall I say, Taker--began, and all I can say is...
Time sure flies by when you're sneaking around.
I know, I know..I shouldn't say things like that and I also know I shouldn't keep this from Matt or Jeff, but...I don't know. I just haven't wanted to share my relationship with Mark with anyone.
I mean, yes, I've wanted someone, anyone really, to know how happy Mark and I are together, but...I also know how close minded and talkative some of the people I hang around with can be, and I dont want my relationship with Mark to be locker room gossip, or my relationship with Mark to be looked down on because he's the Undertaker, the Official American Bad ass and because I'm Lita, The Hardyz Pimpstress.
It's just not going to happen--if I have anything to say about it, that is.
I stop writing to reread over the paragraph I just wrote and after quickly noticing that I have taken to stealing Mark's labels about him and I in the wrestling world and have used them in my journal entries as well, I cant help but burst into giggles; something I've caught myself doing more and more ever since I've started dating Mark.
"First, he steals my heart, and now I'm stealing his words. We're a couple of thieves, I tell ya."
My slightly annoying laughter stops as the door to my suite opens, but I don't even bother getting up to see who it is, knowing already that the only person who has a key to my room, besides me, is Mark.
"Hey Red," he says, coming out onto the balcony, where I'm seated, and eying the outdoors recliner that I'm seated in, "Mind if I sit with ya?"
Scooting over for him to sit down, I give him one of my infamous smirks, that he says makes him melt, "Thought you'd never ask."
After chuckling, he sits down next to me and pulls me towards him so we're laying down in his favorite position; the spooning position. "Busy day, baby...busy day."
"I'm sorry," I say, tilting my head up, and to the left of me, so I can give him a peck on his lips; something that I've found myself doing more and more as the weeks go by, "Want to talk about it?"
"Not really," he says, leaning down to give me another kiss, before straightening back up, and resting his head on my shoulder, "but I'm guessing you're going to have to hear about it sooner or later."
Raising an eyebrow at his seriousness, I move myself out of his embrace, a little bit, so I can see his facial expression, "What's going on?"
I can tell he's amused at my worried expression, but he doesn't dare speak of it, knowing if he does he'll get one of my famous glares, "It's nothing really, I just had a meeting with Flair and McMahon today."
"Really?" I say, more than interested now; I had heard that Ric and Vince were going to be calling people in about the upcoming split, the one that wouldn't be taking place until the middle of next year, mind you; but I didn't really know exactly what they were going to cover in it..and I was more than slightly interested. "So, what did they say?"
"Well," Mark began, having fun drawing out the suspense as far as he could, "they said their thinking of havin' an 80's versus the 90's type of thing where Taker feuds with Flair and has everyone hyped up and into it all. And then, after all is said and done, and Flair beats me for the belt, their planning on having the Ministry come back and take over whatever show Flair will be hosting--that is, until I retire sometime next year, or the following year after that."
"Wow," I can't help but say a few minutes after he stops talking, but then just as quickly as my speechlessness hits me, it quickly goes away, leaving me drawn to him with confusion, "but what does that have to do with me. You said I'm going to have to hear about it sooner or later."
"Well...." he begins, sitting up and this time, I cant help but notice that I dont see any signs of amusement on his face, "their planning on having me stalk another one of the female wrestlers--this time, this time, the woman in question being the opposite of Stephanie McMahon-Hemsley."
After thinking quickly, I make a face at to who the opposite of Stephanie McMahon-Hemsley could be, in my book, "Their having you stalk Molly Holly?"
Mark slightly chuckles at the thought, but nevertheless shakes his head, telling me thats not who it is, "Their thinking of someone more daring..someone more athletic...someone more...redder."
As the last word slips out of his mouth, my whole body seems like it's going in shock, leaving my mind with only one thought, or rather I say, two thoughts: "What....? Why?"
Mark sighs, and part of me feels bad, wanting to take my words back as I can tell that he was hoping my reaction would be slightly different; but the other part of me, the more realistic part of me, can't help but think the same thing that I spoke up: Why? Why would they want me in this storyline?
I mean, I had watched the Ministry the year before I had joined the WWF and it was one of the most talked about storylines in history; and I know, full well, that anything I could do, or anything I could bring to the WWF, would never, or could never, compare to anything the Ministry stood for, or anything that it would go down in history for.
And that was the truth.
"Well, to be honest, Red. I don't have a clue," Mark says, bringing me out of my thoughts with another sigh, "but I do know that if, by chance, we did it, and the crowd approved of it, well, then I'd be forced to spend most of my time with my beautiful girlfriend, and that's something that I would not and could not turn down for the world."
At hearing Mark's sappy words, I can't help but lean up and greet his lips with my own, ending the short, but sweet kiss with a sugary sweet smile of my own, "Ya know, when I think I have you and my thoughts all figured out, you always have to go and say something so sweet, and so beautiful, that it makes me side with you every time."
Mark chuckles at this statement, and leans in again, giving me a kiss that is slightly longer than the previous one, and more mind boggling than the previous one, as well, "Well, I don't know if that can be concluded as a compliment, but I'm taking it that you've reconsidered your whole point of view on joining the darkside with me."
"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that," I began, eying him, teasingly, as I lean back in the recliner, making it so that the only way he would be able to sit comfortable on the thing is if he sits or lye's on top of me, "but I will say, it looks more and more tempting each time I think about it."
"Oh really...? Well, how about I give you something else to think about."
And with that being said, Mark climbs on top of me, and beings to initiate a kiss that is so powerful, and that is so passionate, that it almost makes me forget anything and everything that I've ever learned..including my own name.
"Mmm, Mark," I say, not being able to stop my moaning as I feel his hands take a hold of my breast, underneath my shirt; his callously palms causing my nipples to advert up in a nub position, and hurt from the intensity of the hardness of them both, "If you don't stop..."
"If I don't stop...what?" He says, not bothering to look at me, or stop what he's doing as well; just moving his mouth from my lips to my neck, where he knows my sweet spot is.
"If you don't stop-" I begin, but am interrupted by a fierce moan that comes out of my mouth--as his tongue hits the sweet spot that I was referring to before--and also by a fierce vibrating motion near my hip bone, that causes us both to jump apart. "Dammit!"
While yanking the beeper off of my pants, he chuckles at my anger--which is directed towards the person who interrupted us, at the moment--but he also throws off a couple of swears of his own, telling me that he's not happy about the interruption as well.
"Shit," I say, ignoring his curses, after reading the number that is displayed on my beeper; causing me to quickly move Mark off of me so I can get up, "we're late."
"We are?" Mark says, moving off the recliner so I can get up, and then following me back into my room, as I walk away from him, "for what?"
"For dinner," I say, before stopping, and turning around to face him, wearing, hopefully, a cool and calm look, "we're late for dinner...with Jeff and Matt."