Chapter 22

As far as Jon was concerned, he was locked down and Tressa didn't realize it yet. He wasn't exactly in any hurry to alert her to it either, given she still wore that wedding ring. He knew she still did and always would love her husband, love Joseph, and when she was ready for something besides a fuck friend, that ring would be off her finger.

"As my deviant sex Goddess commands," He laughed harshly, raising himself off the seat to fix his pants, smirking when she eyed him. "Gotta give me 5 minutes, Kitten, you drained me."

"Mmm, very well, we need to shower anyway." Tressa giggled, reaching over to caress his bare chest since he left his shirt off and kissed his shoulder.

The incident, the small breakdown at the bar, was long forgotten and she felt content again, walking hand-in-hand into the hotel with Jon. Once again, they didn't see the icy blues watching them from the parking lot. Jon yanked Tressa flush against him to passionately kiss her and lifted her in his arms to cart her inside, making her giggle against his lips.

They both had that just fucked look about them, and Jon hadn't bothered wearing a top. Drew wouldn't be surprised at all if this 'married' slut wasn't wearing panties. His eyes narrowed slightly, watching as Jon's hand snaked beneath that skirt, hearing Tressa's low gasp followed by a soft moan before they disappeared inside the building. Sluts, the pair of them. Probably the lot of them, she was likely banging all of Shield, well…the last two standing members of the 'broken' faction. Snorting, he spat out his stream of chew, deciding he'd go around the building and enter the opposite side.

"I-I thought you needed time to recover…Ohhh Daddy…" Tressa's eyes nearly rolled in the back of her head when Jon's erect cock slid inside of her again, right there in the staircase, and proceeded to claim her yet again. One thing was for sure, their sexual chemistry was off the charts and they could barely keep their hands off each other. "Jon…"

Neither paid any mind when the door opened behind them, Jon's bare ass hanging out with his jeans around his ankles while he slammed in and out of Tressa. Their lips were sealed to each other, completely consumed and Drew watched the entire display, how Tressa's face contorted the moment she reached her end. Her cry of Jon's name was muffled by the man's mouth covering hers and he shut the door before her eyes opened, having them closed the entire time during the bout.

Eventually, Tressa and Jon made it to their room, in the shower, where another session took place under the hot sprays. All she could do was splay her hands against the shower wall while Jon took her from behind, rocking her world all over again. The man had an insatiable sexual appetite and it worked for her because sex was the perfect distraction to keep her from having dark thoughts about Joseph and her unborn child's death. Using him for sex, for that distraction, wasn't fair to Jon, but he knew what he was getting into with Tressa and she would not refuse him.

Seeing all that on top of what he had heard at the arena earlier in the night just cemented it for Drew. Tressa was a whore. She might have been married, but that ring on her finger obviously meant nothing to her if she was out fucking her coworkers in public buildings. Cheeky little slut, he snorted, slipping into his room. He went to his bag and dug out his whiskey, the good Scottish stuff, and poured himself a healthy measure. Oh yes, she would be making those beautiful noises and her face would contort in ecstasy for him soon enough.

Something was wrong with Jon.

Unable to put her finger on it, he wasn't acting like himself ever since Joe left the road to get treatment for his cancer. It'd been 2 months since Joe's departure and things had been spiraling for Jon, especially at work. For some reason, the company decided Jon wasn't Intercontinental champion material and had the untalented Bobby Lashley win the title from him. It was ridiculous! Tressa knew he was upset about that, which she completely understood, but…Jon had started taking it out on her. Not physically, but they weren't having sex nearly as much as they used to. It bothered her since two months ago, they couldn't keep their hands off each other and now…now, Jon almost wanted nothing to do with her.

Tressa couldn't figure it out and what was worse was Jon had started getting his own room, claiming he needed time to himself instead of being smothered by a woman all the time. That hurt her more than words could say, but Tressa gave him his space and started drinking Vodka again to help cope with her inner pain and grief. Sex with Jon had been her substitute, but now that he wanted his space, Tressa had resorted to buying it again in order to help her fall asleep at night. She didn't cry herself to sleep, but the loneliness…was starting to get to her and she just wished Jon would talk to her and tell her what was on his mind.

That night came the Friday before the Royal Rumble pay-per-view event, which was on Sunday. Tressa was in her hotel room, ready to kick back with some Absolut, after taking a hot bath, when a knock sounded at her door. Frowning, she stood up from the bed and padded over, wearing a pair of black pajama pants and a black tank top with her hair down. There was no peephole, so she just answered it and blinked at the sight of Jon staring back at her. What was he doing here? Instead of saying her usual soft 'hi', Tressa folded her arms in front of her chest and raised a slow brow at him, tilting her head.

"What do you want, Jon?" She asked bluntly, her tone even and somewhat cold.

"We need to talk, Tressa." He said flatly, not fazed by her tone.

He probably deserved it. He had been having internal issues and instead of just saying it outright, he had been thinking it over, like a giant pussy. Well, that shit was over. Work was spiraling, his friendships were deteriorating and the one thing he actually wanted…his eyes dropped to her hand, noting the damn wedding ring, was torn between him and a dead man.

"Can I come in?" For a second, he thought she would deny him, it certainly looked like she wanted too, but her nostrils flared and she turned to walk into the room.

Jon took that as his cue and followed, closing the door behind him.

"So NOW you wanna talk? Ignoring me for over a month got old for you and NOW you wanna talk to me? What about, Jon? What could you possibly have to say to me after almost no contact with each other for a month and a half?" Tressa snapped, not bothering with pleasantries, and stood over by the window, her bottle of Absolut, cracked open, in hand as she took a swig from it.

She was going to need alcohol, and probably a buzz, to get through this conversation. Yeah, she was going to need her Vodka. He had a flask in his back pocket of his favorite tequila. Jon had taken a few shots of liquid courage before knocking on that door. He had already known he wasn't going to do this completely sober, mostly, but not completely.

"So… I've been thinking," Jon began pacing, watching as she eyed her bottle, her lips glistening with the vodka. "About you and me, and this sex only bullshit." He stopped his pacing, facing her. "I think it's more than just sex between us, Tressa. And I think you know it too."

Frowning, Tressa slowly turned her head to look at him and clenched her fist at her side, the grip on the bottle tightening too. Her stormy greys pierced right through him and Tressa shook her head, anger welling up inside of her. "Sex…only…bullshit?"

THAT was the reason he had ignored her for a month and a half and forced her to move back with her parents. In a way, it was a blessing in disguise because Tressa had found her own place in the same town as her parents, but at least she had her space. It was lonely, she was completely alone and Jon hadn't given her any reason or inclination he wasn't happy with their arrangement…until now.

"You knew what this was when we started and you promised me…you promised me I wouldn't lose you." Damn it, the tears had started as she angrily wiped one, then two, away. "You said we would always be best friends and the only difference was with benefits. And now you're coming at me with this bullshit about it being more than just sex between us, after A MONTH AND A HALF of SILENCE? Get the fuck out of my room now, Jon. You make me sick!" Didn't she make herself CLEAR when this began her heart was in that six-foot-deep grave with Joseph and she wasn't getting it back?! Apparently not.

"Goddamn it, Tressa, I'm not going anywhere!" Jon shouted right back, walking over to stand before her. "I thought if I put space between us, it'd go away, I wouldn't want more. But it hasn't changed, if anything, it just makes it fucking worse. I love you, and I think underneath that grief you like carrying around, you love me too." He grabbed her hand, pulling it up until her wedding band was eye-level between them. "He's dead, darlin', that doesn't mean you died with him. You don't have to keep grieving and cutting yourself off because you think it's what you're supposed to do. You want me for more than sex, and we both know it."

Why was he doing this to her?

Tressa snatched her hand away from him, more tears falling, and slammed the bottle of Vodka down, shoving him next. Jon didn't move much; he was a lot bigger than her and she wasn't that strong. "Y-You can't do this to me! You can't do this to me, Jon! No!" She shoved him again, gripping her hair in her fingers, and let out a pained cry. "You stupid son of a bitch, I KNOW he's dead! I know my husband is gone and he's never coming back! But that doesn't mean I'm just gonna jump into a relationship after 8 months!" Joseph's eight-month death anniversary passed last week, and she started crying harder, wrapping her arms around herself. "I CAN'T love you! I can't love anyone ever again, Jon! My heart is in that grave with him! It's JUST sex between us, NOTHING MORE!"

"You CAN and you DO, you're just in denial because you think your ability to love SHOULD have died with him!" Jon's pale blues lit up with fire, daring her to lie to him. "You wear that goddamn ring like some anchor to the grave, you can't even take it off, can you?" His fingers were on said ring now, holding her hand firmly still. "Take it off, Tressa. Take it off and fucking be alive with me, darlin'!" There was no way Joseph would have wanted her to live like this, to shut herself off like this, he wouldn't have wanted that.

No man who truly loved his woman wanted her to be miserable.

"NO!" She kicked him in the shin to make him release her hand and hopped on the bed, stumbling to land on the other side, trembling from head to toe. "GET OUT! I'm not taking my ring off! I'm not ready and I may never be! I don't love you! I love Joseph and he's the ONLY man I will ever love!" She shouted, not caring who heard them by now, and clutched her left hand to her chest, breathing extremely erratically. "I-I can't do it…I WON'T do it! It's bad enough I fucked you and used you as a distraction from my pain and anguish! I USED YOU!"

And right there was Jon's snapping point, something in him went dark at those words. "You used me, Kitten?" His voice dropped to something dark, something dangerous. "Really? That all I am to you, Tres? A fuck toy?" That was a flip; usually, it was the other way around. He was peeling off his top, ignoring the tears streaming down her face. "Just using me…" Jon snorted, grabbing her by the arms and bringing her crashing into his body. "Why don't you use me some more?" He snarled, slamming his lips down on hers in a brutal kiss.

The addiction was back, stronger than ever and Tressa couldn't pull away from him, no matter the poisonous words they spewed at each other. She was screaming at him because…Jon was right. Deep, deep down inside, Tressa knew what he said was the truth. She did love him. Sex between them was more than just sex…there were feelings and they were stronger than friendship. She didn't want to cross that line, not yet, and it didn't help Jon was PUSHING her to do it before she was ready. She couldn't stop crying as Jon tore her clothes from her body and she did the same to him, needing to use him again…needing the loneliness to be sated and her addiction to be satisfied, even if it was for one night.

"Yeah that's right," Jon licked away those tears from both cheeks before kissing her again. "Use me, Kitten. That's all I am, right?" He shoved her backward, watching as she landed sprawling on the bed and was hovering over her before she had a chance to move. "And you want to be used in return, is that it? You want Daddy to fuck the misery right out of you?" Gripping one thigh in his hand, he drew her leg up over his hip, already positioning himself at her dripping entrance.

Yeah, she wanted to be used all right.

"Jon…" Her voice came out choked, the tears not stopping even as he slid home inside of her, not giving her time to adjust to him.

Jon had never been this rough with her before and she could feel the anger radiating from him with every thrust. There was no kissing, no affection, it was straight fucking between them as Tressa did her best to meet him for every sharp thrust. It wasn't to the point of hurting her, but Tressa would definitely be sore in the morning and clung to him for dear life, digging her nails into his biceps.

"Oh god…fuck! FUCK!"