Another installment in my Steph/CJ series here! Just a note...since I have NO idea what's going to happen at the PPV on Sunday, I'm just making stuff up for this story--whether it happens or not remains to be seen. If you need to catch up on any of my previous CJ/Steph stories, you can find them here.
WARNINGS: M/F Sex
SPOILERS: None, unless I can see the future.
DISCLAIMER: This story is not meant to reflect the true natures,
personalities, or sexual preferences of the people involved. I do this
without their permission, and I do not own them.
DISTRIBUTION: Just my site, and the Smoochy Dreams site.
When you are with me
I’m free
I’m careless, I believe
Above all the others we’ll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My sacrifice…
~~Creed, ‘Sacrifice’
Stephanie sat with her back against the wall, tugging at a loose thread on the hem of her skirt, lost in thoughts. Just a few more hours, and everything changes…it was so quiet in the back. Even though most of the guys had arrived, not much was going on. The usual laughter and commotion was absent, making the odd bittersweetness of the day even more poignant.
She knew most thoughts today were centered around the separation of friends, the loss of a whole, the inevitable changes looming on the horizon. She was thinking about all those things too—but her mind was also on something else…
She looked up, across the backstage area to where Chris was standing talking to Dwayne. Her eyes settled on him with both sadness and adoration. He was dressed in a pair of jeans that left no curve undefined, no inch of him to her imagination, and a black Y2J shirt. His golden-blond hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, wisps of it escaping to hang around his face. She could only see his profile, but just the sight of his strong jaw and the slight pout of his lips made her heart flutter.
Ever since that fateful night when they finally let emotions have a stake in their affair, they had been struggling with their consciences. Steph loved Hunter, and Chris loved his wife. But they loved each other too, and nothing could change that. Even though they were yet to speak those three powerful words—and part of her hoped they never did—they both had an emotional investment in their relationship far higher than either one wanted to admit.
They didn’t know what to do. So they kept on doing what they always did. Avoiding each other in public, sneaking secret moments here and there, spending the nights together—even though it was harder now to leave his side once their passions were spent. Sometimes she didn’t, and regretted it in the morning light.
Then the decision had been made for them, a week ago in a boardroom in Titan Towers, when her father dropped the news about what was to happen at Survivor Series. He had been talking about it for a while, but she wasn’t sure he was going to go through with it. When he said he was, her heart fell through the floor.
“Steph…”
She snapped her eyes away from Chris, and tried to force a smile as Mark sat down on the lighting case beside her. As much as she wanted to be alone with her thoughts right now, she also wanted to keep her finger on the pulse of her co-workers.
“How you doing?” She asked quietly.
He shrugged a little and heaved a sigh, hands folded loosely in his lap. He was in an oversized black Undertaker sweatshirt and black jeans, scuffed boots and a toboggan. She liked how he looked out of the ring—so casual, yet, something of the badass still there.
“It’s strange, you know…” he stared off into space for a moment, as though collecting his thoughts. “I been around this business longer than most these boys, and I ain’t never seen nothing like this. It’s been a crazy few months, all these new boys coming in, these federations coming together. Now to see it split off like this and lose touch with some of these guys I’ve worked with for years…that’s gonna be a hard thing to get used to.”
She nodded, looking back down at her skirt. When she had agreed last year to be involved with the Alliance, she knew this day would come. What she didn’t know was how much she would be leaving behind when it finally happened.
“So you’re off to run the new company after tonight, huh?” Mark looked over at her, scratching his chin. She nodded, having to blink a couple times so tears didn’t fill her eyes.
“Yeah. It’s gonna be strange, not seeing you guys every day, not being around the WWF…”
“We’re gonna miss you too…” Mark’s voice was quiet, and sincere, rife with something not unlike sadness. “Despite everything that goes on out in that ring, we’re a pretty tight family back here.”
She nodded. That was one of the things that hurt the most—splitting off from this whole network of people she had become so comfortable with and trying to recreate that with new people, in a new place and a new business.
Her eyes wandered back to Chris. That wasn’t the only thing that was going to be difficult. She was trying not to think about it right now, though. Get through the night first, then let all the emotions take over.
Mark reached over and patted her hand firmly, and she looked down, smiling a little. “It’s just good we can keep all you guys in jobs…” she said.
Mark nodded. “You and your family always been good about that. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to make things work.”
That was her philosophy as well. It was just hard to accept sometimes—like right now.
“I guess I better go get ready…” he sighed, pulling his hand back from hers. “Gonna give it my all tonight, you can count on that.”
She looked up, watching Chris walk away from Dwayne and toward the dressing rooms, tossing a look over his shoulder at her. His eyes looked as sad as she felt, his expression a little bitter.
“I know you will…we all will…” she said softly.
*******************
They were knee-deep in the pay-per-view, and Steph decided to go take a break in her dressing room for a while. The almost funeral-like mentality of the backstage area was starting to get to her. Most of the guys had split off into groups, sharing stories and laughing at memories past, or mourning that there were no more to come. Some of the newer guys seemed lost and confused, and they didn’t really seem to fit in. The guys who had been there the longest were withdrawn and quiet, just mulling over things.
In her dressing room, Steph sat in front of the vanity, head in her hands, trying not to cry. Part of her knew this was the sensible thing to do, and she had been prepared for it a long time ago. But another part of her railed against it and wanted to find some way out of it—even though there was no turning back at this point.
A soft knock at the door brought her out of her melancholy. She lifted her head and wiped quickly at her eyes. Clearing her throat, she made her voice polite and normal. “Come in.”
The door opened slowly, and Chris peeked his head in. As soon as she saw him, her lower lip quivered, and she found it impossible to hold back her emotions any longer. She dropped her head in her hands again and began to cry in earnest.
He came in and shut the door, then came over to her. At first he just touched her shoulder, like he wasn’t sure what to do, then he knelt and pulled her into his arms.
She wept against his shoulder, clinging to him, afraid to let go. She knew she was making a mess of her hair and make-up, but she didn’t care. The scent of his hair filled her nose as she pressed her face into it, the touch of his skin and the strength of his body making her feel safe, and all the more heartbroken to be leaving it.
“I don’t know if I can do this…” she said in a shaky voice, when she had calmed down a bit. “I don’t know if I can be without you…”
He pulled back, looking at her with his arms still around her. He was smiling softly, eyes sparkling.
“You know you have to though…” he said, his voice sounding very controlled. “You know your father needs you to help run the new company.”
She nodded, and wiped at her eyes, though more tears slipped out to replace the ones she wiped away. “I know…” she drew a hitched breath. “I just wish…I wish you were coming with me.”
He nodded, then closed his eyes and sighed. “Maybe it’s better this way…”
Those words hurt like hell, mostly because they were true. Once they were only seeing each other two or three times a month, what they had together would probably fade. Weeks apart would make them rethink things, and see how wrong it was. Eventually they’d get over it, and get on with their lives. But the thought of it right now was enough to make her want to fling herself off the top of the building.
She grasped his shoulders, not ready to let go just yet. “Chris…I don’t know…how are we…”
“Shhh…” he leaned forward, not opening his eyes, and captured her lips gently. She kissed him back, the pain of it shooting right down to her soul, more tears slipping down her cheeks.
“Oh Chris…” she whispered against his mouth, voice choked. “I don’t know how I’m going to handle this…”
He closed his arms tighter around her, squeezing her. She wrapped herself around him, holding on tight, terrified that when her arms were empty of him there would be nothing to live for anymore, not even her husband.
“You will…you’ll handle it…” he whispered back. “Because you’re strong. You’re a Princess, and Princesses don’t give up…”
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, heart hammering. Princesses didn’t give up—but what about when they no longer had a Prince to make them strong?
He sought out her lips again and kissed them feverishly, taking her breath away. She kissed back, with all that she was, her heart and soul screaming for him. Time was so short, but she needed this—she needed this last thing from him so she could carry it with her.
She didn’t worry about anything else—not the pay-per-view or the fact that the door wasn’t locked—she just slipped off the chair and pulled him to the floor with her, hands all over him, mouth hungry and feeding off his. He didn’t protest. His hands roamed her body as well, lighting her nerves on fire, soft growls of assent tearing from his throat and making her quiver.
They kissed some more, then he sat up and took off his shirt, and she just stared up at him, feeling like a puddle of molten liquid beneath him. The sight of him above her, bare and powerful and strong, made her body respond in ways she couldn’t control. The sight of him, and the touch of his skin as she ran her hands over him—the rippling and tensing of muscles beneath that silken flesh—made her very aware that he was a man and she was a woman.
She gasped and trembled in eager anticipation as he unzipped the leather halter she was wearing, as her bare breasts were exposed to him and he took them in his hands. His mouth was on her throat, then over the heaving swell of her breasts, then latching on to a nipple. She pushed all the agony and sadness out of her mind for the moment, trying to focus on the pleasure since it might be the last she felt for awhile.
She was nearly delirious with need and ecstasy, head rolling from side to side on the carpet, hands tangling in his silken hair as he moved lower, pushing her skirt up. She let out an imploring whimper when she felt the heat of his mouth through her panties, then his fingers tugging them aside and his tongue pushing into her. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, giving in to the recklessness consuming her and draping her legs over his shoulders, one of her shoes slipping off and falling to the floor at his side. She gripped his hair in her fists, panting, skin growing sticky with sweat. As much as she loved what he was doing, she knew they didn’t have much time, and she wanted desperately to be filled.
He hadn’t changed into his ring gear yet, so he still had the jeans on. She helped him with them, hands trembling, unable to stop a moan from escaping her as his swollen cock was released from them. He pushed them down as far as his knees, and that was all she needed. He didn’t even take off her panties, just pushed them aside and plunged into her, nearly making her scream in ecstasy.
It was hurried and heated, but completely wonderful. She locked her legs around his waist, hips jerking up to meet his every thrust, his own hips pounding a hard, driving rhythm into her, such strength and power behind them. She squirmed and thrashed beneath him, trying not to cry out. Her nails raked over his flesh, leaving fiery trails that marked him as hers, for however long it lasted.
“Princess…” his voice was a throaty growl, his arms braced on either side of her head as he filled her. “My Princess…my Steph…”
She couldn’t hold back a keening wail, and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, feeling on the verge of orgasm. He was hitting just the right spot deep inside her, sending shockwaves of pleasure all through her. She locked her legs tighter around his pumping hips, mind starting to haze with her impending climax.
He pulled her hand away from her mouth and bent to kiss her, giving a ragged cry against her lips as he began to throb inside her. The feel of it, and of his wet heat filling her, was too much. She arched her back and returned the cry into his mouth, her body shuddering as she began to come.
It was the most powerful and satisfying orgasm she’d ever had, and she just let it roll through her, feeling him deep inside her as she clenched and quivered around him, her juices slicking his groin and their combined fluids pooling beneath her. She didn’t even care at the moment the mess they had made, or the mess she was. She just wanted to hold on to this for as long as she could.
He stayed inside her, laying on top her, her arms wrapped around him and hands caressing his sweaty back. He was panting softly as she was, the buzz she was caught up in so good that she never wanted it to end.
But it did, all too soon. He lifted off her and slipped out, starting to go soft now. She moaned, the sound of it despairing—for she didn’t know if it was the last time she would feel him inside her or not. The thought that it might be made her want to break down into tears again, so she tried to push it out of her mind.
She was a disheveled mess, and they had left a mess on the carpet as well, which unfortunately was a light tan color so it showed. She tossed her duffel bag over it and told herself she’d clean it up later.
While she adjusted her clothes and fixed her hair and make-up, Chris went to the bathroom and cleaned up. She couldn’t bear to go clean up just yet—she wanted his essence inside her, and if she could hold on to it forever, she would.
When he came out, they just stared at each other for a moment, then she fell into his arms, on the verge of tears again.
“I have to go wrestle…” he kissed her forehead. “But I’ll talk to you after the show, ok? Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“I won’t…” she sniffled, shaking her head. “How could I?”
He took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and deep, then pulled back, staring into her eyes. She held those blue depths for a moment, then he turned and went out. When he was gone—the sound of the closing door seeming to echo through her empty heart—she sunk down in the chair. Even though it meant fixing her make-up yet again, she couldn’t help it. She just sat there and cried.
***************
“Has the main event started yet?” Steph rushed through the backstage area, stopping to ask Jeff Hardy.
He gave her a curious look, then shook his head. “Nope. They’re just getting ready to go out.”
“Thanks.” She hurried toward the curtains, not caring how crazy she looked or what she might be risking here. When she saw Chris standing there, now in his tights and boots and a Jerichohol T-shirt, she felt a wave of relief go through her. He hadn’t gone out yet.
“Chris!” She yelled loud enough that several people turned to look at her. Chris looked up too, frowning when he saw her standing there. “Can I uh…talk to you for a moment…privately?”
He looked around at his partners from Team WWF, who were also standing there, telling them he’d be back in a moment. Several people were looking at them funny, but she didn’t care. She headed toward an empty area, on the other side of some crates, where they wouldn’t be seen.
Chris followed her, and when they stopped, he frowned at her again, voice low. “What are you doing?”
“I was hoping I’d catch you before you went out there…before it was all over…” she was shaking so hard she was sure he had to notice, her voice breathy and almost panicked. “I have to tell you something. It can’t wait.”
“Steph, I have to go out in a few minutes, and people are gonna get suspicious if we…”
She stopped him with trembling fingers on his lips, his face blurring for a moment as tears filled her eyes. “Chris, I love you.”
Saying it seemed to knock the breath out of her, and she couldn’t say anything else for a moment. He just stared at her, the look in his eyes almost sad, like he pitied her—or pitied them both. “Steph…God…”
“I’m sorry…” she brought a hand to her mouth, looking down and choking back a sob. “I’m sorry but I do. I can’t help it.”
He cupped her chin and lifted her face, staring into her eyes. Several tears rolled down her cheeks, and she let them. Her heart was pounding wildly, and she was almost afraid to hear what he would say.
“I love you too…” he whispered.
She nearly melted, and wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or scream. She did neither though, as his lips caught hers and he kissed her passionately.
They were so wrapped up in it, in a powerful, all-consuming whirlwind of emotion, that they didn’t even notice someone walk around the crates until a shocked voice startled them.
“What the…!”
Steph jerked away from Chris and looked up, to her horror seeing that it was the absolute worst person it could be—or one of. He was standing there in jeans and T-shirt, duffel bag on his shoulder, dirty-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. His wide eyes were filled with shock and outrage, flicking from her to Chris.
Steph gasped. “Hunter!”
TBC (at some point!)
[ email author ]