One Way

Title: One Way

Author: Crimson Coin Crimson_Coin@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Everything mentioned in here, WWE, wrestlers etc. are NOT property of me.

Summary: Jericho finds a one-way road, and there's no turning back.

Timeline: November 2001 after the Rebellion Pay per view on November 3.

Archiving: Be my guest, only ask me first.

+++

Chris Jericho clenched his teeth, an arm on the back of his neck as he stumbled up the ramp and behind the curtain. She was already there.

"Oh my God, sweetie." Her hands on his abs, his face, his chest. "Are you alright? That looked absolutely brutal. Does it hurt? Where? Here ... sit down right here."

Chris obeyed, sitting on one of the large boxes, his feet dangling just above the ground. "I'm fine." He said, hoarsely, his breath still short. "I swear, don't worry about it."

"Good God," she cursed under her breath. "Look at you, you're sweating bullets and you're still clutching your neck. So just don't even try."

"Trish ..."

"Stop it." She held up a single finger. "It's bad enough I had that injury that kept you outta my sigor sor so long. Now that I'm back, you ain't gettin rid of me. Now ... I have to referee this match and you are going to stay right here and not move an inch. Got that, Buster?"

Chris smiled, her serious eyes and tight lips curled with concern. He nodded. "I'll stay put."

"Promise?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I promise."

Trish smiled that beautiful smile then bounced over towards Lita, waiting for her cue.

Chris only shook his head, watching the two pretty divas talk and laugh. He couldn't really hear them, but that didn't matter. What was important was that he could hear her laugh. That beautifully gorgeous laugh that filled his ears, that wrapped around his mind and echoed in his dreams. He could close his eyes and just hear her laugh, that slightly chipper giggle that started deep in her throat.

Closing his eyes, he heard Trish's music begin and he knew she had to be walking down the ramp. He could see her in his head. Every part of her. Her beautiful eyes to that soft hair, to that exotically perfect smile, her voluptuous curves ... absolutely everything.

It was getting easier and easier to picture her. Hell, he saw her in his dreams. Pictured her lying at his side at night and he would take her in his arms, holding her. He'd hugged her so many times; he knew the feeling of her body. But he could only imagine how wonderful she'd feel if she truly lay in his arms.

His head rolled slowly then tilted back as he sighed. He could picture it. Picture her in his arms, her tiny perfect body laying under his much more muscular frame. And he would look down into her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes reflecting back the same intense passion and desire, a look of desire he spent every night praying to receive.

He could feel her smooth skin, that milky soft skin against his, her lotion-softened hands clutching at his back, his sides, or tangling in his hair, cupping his face, her nails delicately digging into his roughened flesh. And as lovers they would entwine, becoming one in the most natural of unions, clinging to each other as the pangs of pure rapture consumed them.

A soft moan slipped past his lips and all of a sudden hands were on him. His eyes flew open.

Trish stood there, concern clear on her face. "Oh my God. You're moaning, does it hurt that bad?"

Chris swallowed hard, controlling his thoughts, emotions, and hopefully his body. "Uhm, no, I'm fine, Trish. I ... I was just ... daydreaming."

She smiled. "Daydreaming, huh?"

Chris nodded. "Yup, now how about you go wait for me in my locker room. I just gotta do a run in and then I'll be right down."

"No," she answered, stubbornly. "You're hurt and I'm not leaving you. So I'll stay here and keep your sorry ass company until you have to do your run in. And then, we'll BOTH walk to your locker room."

Chris shrugged. "It's up to you." They talked a good long ten minutes or so until Chris was cued to interfere.

+++

And again, Chris held his neck, stumbling up the ramp and sliding behind the curtain. And again, he was accosted by a pair of delicate female hands. "Good Lord, Chris. Why do you always have to kill yourself out there? Flipping back over that rope, you're gonna kill yourself one of these days and then what exactly am I going to do?"

Chris laughed, staggering up to her, his head still bowed. "It's not that bad. Man, you are always just so worried about me. You better cut that out or else you'll worry yourself to death."

"Or ..." Trish slipped her arm around his waist, helping him walk down the hall. "You can stop doing stupid things so I don't have to worry."

He shrugged. "Bah. Now that takes all the fun outta this career."

"I'll kill you." She threatened. "Cuz you're gonna be the death of me and I'm taking you with me."

"Well, I can't really argue with that now can I." He licked his lips. "Look, I don't really wanna shower here. Do you think you can help me back to my room?"

"Of course."

Chris smiled. He loved her company. The more time she spent with him, the better in his book. And her arm was pretty tight around his waist, her hand holding onto his side, almost gentle in her touch. He had to keep reminding himself not to lean on her too hard, also not to just pin her against the wall and kiss her.

And so they walked in silence, Chris's thought overwhelmed with the woman who walked quietly next to him. He could smell her shampoo, some strange mixture of flowers and salon and then that scent uniquely Trish. It intoxicated him, made him dizzy with emotion.

Still no words were spoken when they reached his locker room and he simply hoisted his bag onto his shoulder before continuing down the hall, she never leaving his side. Making a quick stop at the woman's locker room, she picked up her bag.

But Chris offered her a smile, taking her bag onto his shoulder for her.

"Are you insane?" she furrowed her brow at him. "You're hurt. If anything, give me your bag."

"No way, Sweetheart." He drawled. "Not gonna happen." And he did everything to withhold his wince of discomfort. "So let's get steppin, quickly."

She narrowed her eyes. "Is that a wince I see, Mister? Cuz if it is, I swear to God ..."

"Tell you what ..." he inserted, walking down the hall and leading her quickly. "Why don't we just get to the car as fast as possible and then ..." He burst through the door and right to the rented car he had. Taking out the keys, he opened the trunk, tossed their bags in and she got into the driver's side. Confused, he only shrugged, moving to the passenger side and slippinsideside.

Trish simply looked over at him, her hand outstretched.

"What?"

"First, keys." She requested. "Then you can finish your sentence."

He slapped the keys into her hand then turned away, closing his eyes as he leaned against the window with a sigh of relaxing.

"I am not starting this car until you answer me."

He shook his head. "It's nothing, I was just making excuses cuz I'm all sweaty and stinky and I need a shower."

Grumbling, Trish started the car, speeding out of the arena and peeling out on the first turn.

Chris jostled, his head hitting the window rather hard. He reached up, giving her a look and rubbing his head. "Ouch! Damn, girl, what are you trying to kill me?"

She didn't answer him.

He sighed. "Ok, so it hurt me to carry both bags but it wouldn't have been very manly of me to allow you to support me AND carry our bags, now would it." He crossed his arms, turning his back slightly and looking out the window. "It's no fucking reason to take it out on the fucking road."

Again, Trish remained silent. Racing around corners and through lights, she pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. Putting the car in park, she just stayed stoic for a few moments before turning off the ignition. "I'm sorry." She apologized, dryly. "I just ... I hate it when you do things like that."

Chris clenched his teeth, getting out of the car and moving to the trunk. But she was quick, having both their bags on her shoulders before he could even get there. "Trish ..."

"No." She said. "You're hurt. I carry these up to your room. Lead the way."

He shook his head, walking to her, his eyes intense on hers. "I can't let you carry my bag." He said, softly, his eyes holding hers as he took his bag and put it on his shoulder with much difficulty. "I just can't." He walked past her, into the hotel and up the stairs to his room.

He winced, fiddling with his key card as he leaned heavily against the wall. But his fingers clumsy, he dropped the card. "Son of a ..."

But before he could bend, Trish was there, picking up the key card and swiping it. "Here." She said, her voice just above a whisper and she opened the door for him, helping him inside. She grabbed his shoulder strap, helping him lower his bag to the ground then looked around the room. "You go take a shower, loosen up your muscles and then I'll give you a nice massage. Just to work out the kinks, then you'll be able to sleep better. Ok?"

"Trish, you ... you don't have to stay."

"I want to." She answered, softly. "I'm just gonna head back to my room and pick up some oils. I'll be right back."

He watched her leave then sighed himself, grabbing a clean pair of boxers and walking into the bathroom. Disposing of his tights, jock and all other clothing, he turned on the jets and stepped in.

The water was hot, steamy and pounding against his skin. With a sigh, he let the heat surround him, consume him in his desperate attempt to relax, though that was unlikely. He knew what her hands felt like, when she massaged him. This would not be a first time occurrence, on the contrary, she tended to do it often when she knew he was stiff. Little did she know how her burning touch drove him to the brink of insanity.

As he washed his hair, he couldn't help but pretend his hands were hers. He could feel her body against his as they pressed closely together in the enclosed stall. The water pounding against his back as he encased her in his arms, his mouth crushed to hers in the most drugging kiss he could manage. Her hands, her mouth, her body pressed to his ... just the thought raged every desire.

"Bad, Chris." He scolded himself as his body began to betray himself and he reacted to those erotic thoughts. Quickly rinsing his body, he turned the hot water off and stood under a pure cold stream. His eyes flew open. "Holy Shit!" he swore. "Fuck, fuck fuck." And just like that, his excitement was blasted, his body no longer reacting to thoughts of her. Turning off that stream as well, he grabbed a towel, scuffling his hair dry then running that towel over his body.

Pulling up his clean boxers, he gathered his dirty clothes and walked out of the room, his hair still dripping down his back and chest. Tossing those clothes on his bag, he looked at himself in the mirror, scratching his fingers in his hair and picking up a brush working at the tangles.

Clenching his teeth, he worked painfully at the knots in his hair, his muscles pulling and crunching with each movement of his shoulder. The door opened as he winced, an exceptionally painful pull at the muscles of his back.

"Chris." Trish's voice cooed. "Sweetie, here." And she tossed whatever was in her hands on the spare bed then walked up behind him, taking the brush from his hand. "Here, let me finish that for you."

He sighed, his head bowed as she continued brushing his hair until all the tangles were gone. "Thank you." He mumbled though she could barely hear it.

"That's ok." She said, even softer then him. "Lay on the bed, Sweetie. On your stomach, rest your head on the pillows and just relax."

Chris obeyed without a fight, crawling onto the bed and settling on his stomach, his head pillowed on his arms. He sighed and shivered as she crawled on the bed with him, situating herself behind him. She sat on his butt, her knees to either side of him.

"Am I ok here?"

"Mmmm hmmm." He nodded, closing his eyes as he felt her sit fully on him. It hurt a little, his muscles pulling with her movements, but he really didn't want her to move. He felt her knees clamp at his sides, keeping herself erect as she straddled him.

"Now, let's see." She whispered, placing her hands on his back, feeling the muscles, the tension in order to decide her course of action.

He had to suppress a moan at her mere touch. And he just had to keep reminding himself she was doing this out of concern and friendship. She did not return his affection, his love and this was far from romantic. But as her delicate fingers danced over his skin, he didn't want to stay in reality. He wanted to fantasize, to pretend that at least for this moment ... she truly was his.

"God, you're so tense." She said, brushing his hair aside, exposing his shoulders. "I'll start up here, ok?" She coated her hands then squirted a little onto his shoulders then pressed her hands into the stiff muscles.

Chris couldn't hold back his moan of pleasure, her hands pressing wonderfully into his muscles, rubbing gently yet forcefully along his skin. Letting out a roll of hums and whimpers, he squirmed under her touch, his muscles crackling and crunching with her rubbing. "That feels heavenly." He breathed, his voice laden with the hints of desire.

He lost himself in the feel, her hands in such beautiful motion over his shoulders and back. Meticulously, she worked him, the oil rubbing right into his skin, slightly heated now from the friction of her hands and fingers. He licked his lips, his heart racing as his body grew hot and he was lost under her hypnotic touch. "Mmmmm, that's wonderful, Love." He said, his voice laden with such intense emotion.

Trish froze in that instance, unsure if she actually heard that endearment slip from his lips. "Wha ... What did you say?"

He didn't notice the slight alarm in her voice, but only licked his lips again. "I said, that's wonderful. Please ... Don't stop."

She started again, massaging lower down his back, adding more oil here and there to lubricate, her hands sliding delicately over his slicked skin. She shook off that endearment, telling herself he didn't say anything and she was simply hearing things.

Chris was in heaven, her touch so beautiful and gentle he wanted to cry. Her hands pressed up his back, the oil-covered palms rubbing both his arms, biceps and triceps alike in an attempt to relax him completely. "Mmmmm, Trish." The desired moan slipped from his lips.

Trish bit her lip, not stopping her actions but very worried at the changes in his tone. Never had she heard that tinge in his voice before. Never had she heard a moan like that slip from his lips. It was not the type of moan one emitted from a friendly massage. It was the type of moan that tingled in the core, the kind brought out in only passion.

Dazed, Chris snuggled a little further into the pillow. This was the most wonderful dream. He had to be dreaming; he'd never thought he'd ever feel this from her in reality, so the only logical reason was that he was dreaming. And he most certainly did not want to wake.

Trish eased off of him, sitting on her knees at his feet. Chris hummed his approval then sat up, his muscles completely loose and he turned to look at her. Her eyes were somewhat blank, unsure and almost lost and he simply held her stare. She was even more beautiful in this dream then in any of his others and he sighed at her loveliness.

Reaching out, he slipped his hands under her arms, lifting her with ease and laying her down beside him. Snaking his arm under her shoulders, he held her as his other hand traced down her side. Trish's eyes widened and he could see shock and nerves clear in her eyes.

But just like in every other dream, he reacted the same way. His eyes fluttering, he leaned down, taking her lips with his in the sweetest kiss he could manage. She was unusually tense; the dream usually went that the minute he kissed her, she responded in kind, if not more desperate for him.

But this dream was different. She remained tense.

Trish stiffened, unsure of how to react. Her eyes were wide, her body still. She knew he hit his head, but did he really hit his head this hard? Who did he think she was?

He traced his tongue over her lips, flicking and fiddling with those full lips before pushing his slick muscle inside, touching the tip of his tongue to hers.

Her breath caught on a whimper, her stomach lurching as her body shuddered, his tongue gently and affectionately lapping and licking at her tongue, the roof of her mouth, whatever he wanted to caress.

Such a strange dream this was to him. By now, she would have reacted to him, kissed him back or at least touched him. But it was as if she were in shock, unsure of how to respond or even if she wanted to respond at all.

Chris slowed his end of the kiss, playing with her tongue a few more moments before breaking away from her slightly, his love filled eyes gazing down at her. Her eyes were wide, almost frightened, shocked, unsure, confused. It was then his mind clicked.

This wasn't a dream.

"Oh God!" He gasped, quickly rolling away from her and off the bed, stumbling slightly and falling right to the ground, pushing back from her in his attempt to get as far away from her as possible. "Oh God, Oh God." He shook his head, staggering to his feet.

Trish shook off her surprise, gathering the oils she'd brought and looking away from him. "I'm ... I'll just be leaving now. Goo ... Goodnight, Chris."

But before he could respond, the door was already swinging closed behind her. Chris's mouth ajar, horror engrained on his features, he stood still, alone in the silence. He couldn't bring himself to move. Shaking his head quickly, he crumpled all his things, tossing them in his bag and zippering it up. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a shirt, he found a pair of sneakers and quickly put them on.

Making sure he had everything, he put on his coat and hoisted his belongings up onto his shoulder. Crashing out the door, he looked down the hall ... where he knew her room was. Trish stood outside her door, staring in his direction, just looking at him.

She was so far away; he couldn't see her expression. But he didn't have to see it; he knew the exact expression she wore. A mix of disgust, horror, shock, anger ... disgust. He could feel that vibe traveling down the hall ... impaling him right to the core. Disgust. His kiss had disgusted her.

Closing his eyes, fighting the tears, Chris turned the other way, charging down the hall and crashing right through the door. He just had to get away.


Chris sat alone in a dark corner of the arena. It was Survivor Series, a full three weeks since that night in Manchester, England. Trish had avoided him every moment, never letting herself be caught alone, especially if he was around.

He wanted to talk to her, to apologize for what he did. He knew it was wrong of him to kiss her, to get so lost in the moment that he thought he was dreaming. Not as if that was an excuse. No one would believe him if he said he thought he was dreaming, least of all her. But that's what it was. It was a dream and the notion of having her in his arms carried him away.

The Pay per view was well over, most of the wrestlers already gone for the night. He didn't care though. He just sat there in his tights, his hair slicked and his body covered in sweat. His match was rough, hard. His body was sore, aching from the strain. But he didn't care, not really. The pain was the last feeling from his mind.

The pain was a welcoming feeling. His body in pain, his mind was split on what bothered him most. Her cold stares, cold shoulder, ignoring eyes. She was polite, civil, but a far cry from the good friends they were up until that point. Up until when he kissed her.

His heart continued to break at the disgust he felt, the disgust he knew resided in her. How could he be so foolish? So foolish as to let his emotions carry himself away to a place where she would love him, kiss him, and return his affection.

He could hear Edge calling his name in the distance, probably a couple of hallways away. Chris didn't answer. He didn't want to; didn't want to be found. The last thing he needed was a friend breathing down his neck. Edge meant well, hell, the other man spent the last few weeks trying to comfort Chris. Chris recognized that and was truly grateful. But now, he wanted to be alone.

No, he didn't want to be alone. He wanted to be with her, with Trish. But since that wasn't likely, he'd settle for being alone. With a sigh, Chris stood, grabbing the duffel bag at his feet and walking out of the arena. His hotel was only across the street and he kept his head bowed, walking into the lobby and heading up the stairs.

Fiddling for his key card, he paused, glancing down the hall. At the other end, Trish stood outside her door. She was fumbling with her keycard, the little strip of plastic skipping through her clumsy fingers before falling to the ground. She swore under her breath, bending down and picking up that key before sliding it through her door.

Chris tossed his bag into his room then rushed down the hall. Her door was closing and her hurried, thrusting out his hand and catching the door just before it slammed shut. "Trish."

Trish turned, eyes wide. "Chris? What ... what are you doing barging into my room?"

"I can't do this anymore." He said, intensely. His body slightly slumped, his shoulders dragged as his eyes locked on her face. "You've been avoiding me and I can't do this anymore. I mean ..." He sighed, standing straight and staring at the ceiling. "I ... I didn't even do that much. I ... I only kissed you."

Trish showed no reaction.

Chris shook his head, scolding himself. "I'm sorry. Ok. You have no idea how sorry I am and if I could take it back I would. But ... I ... I can't."

Still, no reaction.

His eyes grew angered, hurt as he walked right up to her, leaning down a little so their faces were only inches apart. "Was it really that bad? We've been friends for a long time and I kiss you and was it really that bad? What?" He stood tall, motioning to his body. "Does this ..." he slapped his chest. "This..." then pointed at his mouth. "Does this disgust you so much? Do I sicken you? Does the thought that my mouth was on yours sicken you so much that ..."

"Chris, shut up." She demanded, placing her fingers over his lips to stop him from speaking. "Just shut up!"

His eyes widened. Was she going to kiss him? That was usually what happened in the movies after something like this. When a woman would stop a man from rambling and then flash that look and ...

But Trish only shook her head, stepping further away from him. "It came out of nowhere, Chris. I mean, it was so surreal like it was out of the movies or something. But life doesn't work like that. You're my friend and after you kissed me the way you did ... it makes things awkward, because I don't feel the same way you do."

Chris felt his world collapse.

"Don't get me wrong." She said, quickly, noting his destroyed look. "I don't mean to hurt you and I'm sorry that this happened. You're a good-looking man and sweet and intelligent and funny and there's a woman out there for you. But she's not me."

He swallowed hard, her words hurting him more than anything he'd ever known.

"I'm sorry, Chris." She apologized. "I ... I'd like to stay friends with you, but things are already weird and I don't want to be in that position."

"I never meant ..."

Trish sighed, her hands dropping limply to her sides. "It's too late for that now. It doesn't matter what you meant or didn't. This is where we are right now."

He ducked his head, his hair hanging in his eyes and he brought a hand to his forehead, hiding his gaze and his tears from her.

"Chris?" she asked, her voice still controlled and stern. "How long? How long have you felt this way?" She blinked a few times, clearing her vision and looking up to a blank corner of the room, raking the blonde hair from her eyes. "I mean, have you been fantasizing about me every night? Do you dream about me? How long have you kept this from me?" She exhaled, impatiently. "Look at me, Christopher."

Dropping his hand, he lifted his head, his glassed eyes locking on her as he swallowed all nerve. After all, he deserved this attack. "Last year. When we became friends and back in May and June when I had those matches with Val Venis and Test and we were working together and ..." He threw his hands in the air. "I don't know, it just happened."

"That's bullshit, Jericho!" She snapped. "Falling in love with someone you meet at a bar can just happen. But falling in love with a friend doesn't."

"Well, it did." He answered. "I don't know how. I just know that it was this match in June and I was supposed to push Test into you to knock you off the apron and then I got the win. I remember you fell hard and it just stopped my heart. And then how you tried to suck it up back stage and prove that you were tough and that it didn't hurt. That was the moment I realized it." He sighed, shaking his head. "Lord knows, I probably felt this way before we even became friends and it just hit me that night."

Trish didn't respond at first, simply waited silently as her thoughts gathered. "I'm not going to just fall into your arms. I've never even thought about you that way. I mean, maybe you're just lonely and you think you're in love with me because we're always around each other. When was the last time you had a steady girlfriend? Two years ago? I'm in that same boat too, Chris, and I know how you feel."

"You don't know how I feel." He sliced at the air with his hand. "You don't. You're not standing here right now listening to the woman you love tell you she doesn't love you. And that you're not good enough for her. Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I know that I don't deserve you?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to!" He spat back. "I can tell by the way you look at me that you're disgusted by the thought of being physical with me. That you're sickened by the memory of me kissing you, or even the concept that I love you."

"Stop putting words in my mouth!" Trish stomped her foot. "I never said any of that and you're jumping to conclusions. There's nothing wrong with you physically. You're a handsome man. I'm a woman. I can admit that. But this isn't some fairy tale romance where I fall in love with my gorgeous friend just because he loves me. That kiss didn't disgust me; it just caught me off guard. And you're not repulsive."

He stepped closer, his eyes intense as they focused icily. "Repulsive? Well, I'm glad I'm not hideously disfigured in your book."

"Stop it!" She yelled at him. "You're putting words in my mouth again and ..."

"You said the word 'repulsed'. I didn't put that word there."

"Would you let me finish?" she snapped harshly at him.

"There's nothing to finish." He said, sadly, his voice dropping in volume and tone, his eyes flashed hurt and confusion. "You said that nothing is wrong with me. You said that I'm funny and sweet and you said that I'm handsome ... even gorgeous. You said that the feel of my lips, my tongue, my kiss didn't disgust you. Then what's the problem? Why can't ..."

Trish didn't have an answer, unsure of how she managed to talk herself into such a corner. "I don't know, Chris. Nothing is wrong with you. You're right and I did say all those things and I'm not going to take a single word back." She sighed. "Chris, despite all that, I just don't love you the way you love me. I'm sorry and I wish that things were different and we didn't get to this point."

Chris closed his eyes. His heart splitting at the sound of those words, of her voice saying 'I just don't love you ...'. He didn't even hear what she said after that, his mind focused on those five words.

"Christopher?"

Sniffling, he withheld the tears, meeting her eyes. "Then things are ... are really ... they're going to be really weird now ... for good ... huh."

Reluctant, Trish looked past his shoulder, slowly nodding. She just couldn't look him in the eye, knowing she was dismissing him from her life.

"Trish?" His voice shook with restrained emotion and he cocked his head when she didn't respond. "Trish, please. Look at me when you say goodbye."

Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes for only a moment then met his eyes, her shoulders square and her head proud. "Goodbye, Chris."

Not capable of a response, Chris turned his back, walking to the door. His hand hovered over the doorknob and he squeezed his eyes closed, his hand shaking with his pained strength, but he couldn't grab the handle. Clenching his teeth, he gathered the last of his courage, opening the door and letting it close behind him.

Chris stood there, alone, just outside her hotel room, his mind spinning with thoughts of her, of the regret and the lonely and the pain of never seeing or speaking to her again. How she would never call him from across catering, sitting beside him with her lunch. How she would never check on him after his matches, when he took a sick bump or got hurt in the ring. How she would never smile at him when he made her laugh, never grab his hand, never massage his back, never look in his eyes. How he could never look on the beauty of her face, her eyes, her lips ... those lips, those eyes that he would never see again. Those lips that he yearned to kiss but never could.

Tears in his eyes, he turned back to the door, knocking continuously. The door opened and Trish stood there, wide-eyed and confused. She didn't say anything though, simply stayed still, shocked that he knocked so soon. The sight of him in tears tore at her heart, but she couldn't be weak. She had to stand by her principles and by what she said.

Chris stepped right into the room and he immediately cupped her face in his hands, stepping flush against her and pressing his forehead to hers. "Let me spend the night with you." He breathed.

"What?" Her eyes widened, but when she tried to pull away, he tightened his hold, keeping her in place.

"Give me one night with you, just to let me feel and then you'll never see me again. Please, Trish, just ... I know what Iaskiasking and I know it's a lot but I have to ask. I have to have this. I need to feel, to know what it feels like, to hold you in my arms. Just let me live out my fantasy this one moment and then I'll leave. I'll be gone and out of your life."

"Chris ..."

"Please," he begged, his voice filled with sorrow and need, desperation, sadness and fear. "Please, I've never asked for anything from you."

"You're asking a lot now."

"I know." He sighed. "But as a friend ... two friends sharing a passionate night together. To fill the lonely and rejection. You said yourself that you know what I feel like and it's been long for you and you're lonely and I am a man and can satisfy needs for you, even if it's only physical. Please, give me one night in your arms."

"Chris ..."

He took a step closer. "You can keep your eyes closed, call out another name and imagine I'm someone else. I need you, Trish, please." His tears fell, a few drops dripping onto her cheeks as his voice shook with emotions. "I need this, Trish. Just let me be whole for one night. Just let me have what I've wanted for over a year ... let me have you, Trish. Please, God please. I beg you, even if it's out of pity ... I have to have you. Please, be with me tonight."

A full minute passed where she didn't respond, only his constant pleas ringing in her ears. His begs for her, his needs and sorrow-filled desperation breaking her heart. No one should ever feel that way. Her eyes closed with her sigh. "No speaking," she said, coldly.

"No speaking." He agreed. "Like I said, you don't even have to open your eyes. Just focus on the pleasure and you can pretend I'm anyone you want me to be."

Staring into his eyes a long few moments, she felt the indecision, the uneasiness running through her mind. This would be a bad idea. This would be a very very bad idea. Trish sighed, nodding her head. "Alright."

Chris breathed a sigh of relief. "I ... I'm just going to go back to my room to get a condom."

"Don't bother." Trish said, sitting on the bed and starting to take her shoes off. "Don't worry about it. Let's just do it."

The sting in her voice hurt him and Chris knelt at her feet. "Please." He stopped her hands. "Just close your eyes. And let me."

"No speaking," Trish said again.

Chris slowly nodded his agreement and Trish closed her eyes. Taking his time, savoring ever moment, he removed her shoes and socks. Lifting her gently, he lay her in the center of the bed, kicking off his own sneakers and socks before leaning over her.

Her felt her breath stop, almost worried like she didn't want him to touch her. And so Chris swallowed that pain and pressed his lips to her forehead. Pulling his shirt off, he tossed the garment to the floor then lovingly removed her shirt.

He almost died at her loveliness, her black sheer bra and beautiful contours of her torso. Being extra gentle, he settled on top of her, ducking his head to her neck. Kissing all along her throat, his hands caressed her sides eventually slipping under her back as he fiddled with the clasp.

He felt her shudder and he was tempted to lean up and capture her lips ... but from her earlier reaction to him being that close ... he decided against it. Instead he pulled the bra from her body, tossing it to the floor as he kissed down her collarbone then to those soft succulent breasts.

Sighing in awe, he took one in his hands, his fingers rubbing everywhere as his thumb brushed and pressed into her nipple. She let out a cross between a groan and a whimper and Chris kissed further down. Running his tongue along one breast, he savored the taste, the feel of the fleshy mound in his mouth.

His one hand kneading as his mouth adored, he worked both breasts until her body squirmed, writhed beneath him. Her hips arched into his, her hands tangling in his hair to keep him in place before running down his back. Swirling his tongue around that nipple, he sucked her greedily into his mouth.

Trish cried out, her back arching in an attempt to have him take more of her. Chris closed his eyes, squeezing her one breast as he mercilessly suckled the other. Ravaging, he sucked and nipped at her breast until it hurt and then ... he licked to the other side, sealing his lips around that nipple as he began the torturous process again.

Suckling harder and harder, he massaged her already stimulated breast then tickled his hand down, fiddling with the clasp of her jeans. With one long suck, he moved further down her body, pushing her pants and thong down, exposing her to his eyes. Tossing those final fabrics over his head, he just sat between her legs, dumbfounded and awestruck at how perfect she was.

He swallowed hard as her body lurched and rocked; she was descending from the most recent high. He couldn't believe this was real, couldn't believe that Trish lay in her natural glory right beneath him, her body aching to be satisfied.

Part of him died with each passing moment, the thought that her mind was turning his actions into someone else's killing him. But the other part of him just didn't care. He was with her.

He ducked down then, lying between her thighs as he positioned his head in the perfect place. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in her intoxicating sexual scent. Desperate for her, he spread her folds, sighing at her beauty then peaking his tongue out, expertly tracing her outer lips.

A few breathy curses slipped from her lips then a variety of moans and whimpers followed as she arched into him. Chris growled in response, curling his tongue and pushing inside of her. Her flavor poured onto his tongue and into his mouth and he thrust as far in as he could.

He was in heaven; she was overwhelming. He never knew a woman could taste this good, could be so delicious. He couldn't get enough of her. Spreading her folds even more, he buried further into her, thrusting and wiggling his tongue as deep as he could, stimulating her to the brink of insanity.

Her breathy pants and needy moans filled his ears and coaxed him on. Removing his tongue, he pushed in a single finger then quickly added a second then third. She cried out in a fusion of pained pleasure at the quick intrusion but he only ducked down, his lips sealing around her sensitive clit as he swirled his tongue. Flicking, licking and suckling at that most sensitive part of her body.

He knew when the pain turned to ecstasy. Her hands reached down, tangling in his hair and pulling, tugging on him till he though she'd pull out his hair. Turning and twisting his hand, he spread his fingers, stretching her and caressing as he sucked relentlessly at her bud. His rhythm never stopping, his actions never slowing, she had no choice. Trish bit down on her lip, muting her cry of rapture as the pleasure consumed her.

Chris immediately removed his fingers, pushing his tongue into her trembling tunnel, her slicked walls clasping and twitching around him, squeezing his tongue as the wonders of orgasm claiher her body. She could feel the random shudders quaking her body as she descended from the high. Chris didn't move. Simply kept his tongue inside, flicking and licking her tunnel in an attempt to gather as much of her womanly fluid as possible.

He knew he'd never taste her again.

Savoring every last drop, Chris finally pulled back, sitting between her legs and gazing at her flushed sweat slicked body. Glistening in beauty, her chest heaved, head tilted back as she tried desperately to control her breathing. Licking his lips, he felt her juices coating his mouth, cheeks, nose, and chin, even running down his neck and chest. His erection had grown to painful proportions, obscenely tenting his pants.

His fingers shaking, he undid the fasten of his jeans, pushing them off and kicking them to the foot of the bed. Still kneeling between her legs, he just looked at her. The more he gazed, the harder he grew.

Her skin so perfectly smooth, creamy and delicate in texture. Her thighs glistened with the mixture of her recent release and his saliva; the little strip of her roughened hair on her mound ran down to her folds beautiful in its wonderful naturalness. Her legs, contoured perfection; her arms, delicate excellence. Her eyes were still closed, lips parted as she breathed. Those full luscious lips and a little pink tongue peaked out to lick and moisten them.

The burning fires of desire consumed him.

Making quick work of his boxers, he leaned over her, in all his naked splendor. His cock standing rigid and at attention as it prodded and poked at her womanly haven. He hovered just over her, not nearly ready for entrance and he just looked at her face. He gasped when her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him.

Not through him, like he expected. No ... she looked at him. Her brown vibrant eyes locked on his face, searching him as if memorizing every contour. She reached up then, cupping his face in her hands, her fingers splayed over his cheeks in a gentle caress. One hand slid back, raking tenderly through his hair to cup the back of his head. His eyes widened as she pulled him down, taking his lips with hers.

Chris nearly died at the feeling of her lips, her mouth against his and it took him a few moments to realize that she truly was kissing him. Gathering himself, he settled further into her, leaning harder against her as he forced her lips open and pushed his eager tongue into her awaiting mouth.

The moment his tongue touched hers, she let out a whimpered moan in appreciation. Her tongue actively wrapped around his, playing and tangling in a violent dance of yearning that broke his heart. The pleasure so beautiful, he felt pain. He thought he was overwhelmed before, but the beauty of simply kissing her brought tears to his eyes.

He couldn't break away, didn't want to stop touching his tongue with hers and so he breathed steadily and deeply through his nose, though it was difficult with his raging desires. She breathed in kind, her arms wrapping snuggly around his neck as she pulled him ever so close.

Her legs spread for him, wrapping around his waist and her heels dug into the flesh right underneath his butt. She tightened those legs, pulling him close and he moaned at the feel of her dampness warming his already hot pulsating groin. He broke the kiss to take a deep breath. She did as well then pulled his head back down to her sucking on his lips, thrusting her tongue into his mouth for a deep passionate tangle.

Expertly positioning his hips, he pushed his fully erect member into her tight passage. Trish moaned with every inch, her tongue assaulting more brutally every bit he pushed. He growled as well, pushing in until her tunnel swallowed his whole member and he was buried right to the hilt.

Breaking away from her, he placed his forearms to either side of her, leveraging himself, arching his back to get a better angle. His eyes intensely locked on her face, he began a slow thrusting rhythm. Thrust after thrust, he pushed into her willing tunnel, the beautiful slick caress of her walls stretching and contracting around him, accommodating his massive length with each entrance. Her entry expanding, her cervix stretching just that slightest bit more to take him fully inside. Relaxing and milking, her tunnel naturally worked and caressed his bulging manhood.

Their eyes locked in a transfixed gaze, Chris continued rocking and thrusting into her. Harder and harder, deeper and longer he'd thrust until she was whimpering. Her hands raked through his hair over his neck and chest and arms then those nail scored down his back, her slender fingers eventually clenching his waist. Locking her legs even tighter around him, she arched her hips right into his, pushing harder onto him in an attempt to completely engulf his member into her trembling womanhood.

Whimpering, writhing, her moans coaxed him, begged him to continue the torturous wonders. His hips spurred and slamming against her pelvis, almost painful in his strength and rhythm but neither yearned for him to stop. Panting, his lips parted as saliva dibbled from the corner of his mouth. Sweat glistened on his forehead as his brow furrowed in an attempt to stay as hard as he could, to move as long as he could.

It was getting too much. Her body so soft and slick against his as they moved as one. Her hands all over his body, her eyes locked ever so intensely on his face. He couldn't believe she was watching, and in that moment he let himself believe she wanted to be with him. In that single moment of passionate ecstasy, she wanted him.

Desperate to finish her, he sped up his rhythm, leaning down to capture her lips, his tongue delving into the wetness of her mouth. His chest rubbing against hers with his speed, that kiss the final needed stimulation, Trish cried out into his mouth, her legs tightening around his waist and locking him in place. Her hands clutched at the back of his head, pulling him closer in a breathtaking kiss as the climactic high rushed through her body.

She nearly sucked his tongue right out of his mouth, her moaning vibration and trembling body far too much to handle, he roared into her mouth, arching his hips heavily into hers as he finally let go, releasing inside of her.

His head flew back. He'd never cum so long in his life and Chris held onto her still quaking body as he released spurt after spurt into her, his hips bucking and rocking with each passing wave. Shot after shot he fired until finally spent, he collapsed onto her body, his head buried in her neck. His eyes closed, panting as he desperately tried to regain himself from the most beautiful experience he'd ever known.

His eyes fluttering open, he stayed still, not wanting to move for fear of what he'd actually see in her eyes. Maybe ... maybe if he didn't move, she wouldn't push him away just yet. His body shivered as the cool air of the room nipped at the sweat slicked skin of his back and ass. And then, a single hand brushed through his hair, petting him in the most affectionately possessive way. Just caressing his sweat covered hair back, her delicate fingers brushing his brow before pulling the sticky fibers back. Just holding him, rocking him, she touched him.

Chris squeezed his eyes shut, her touch bringing tears to the brim but he would not let them shed. Not wanting to break the joining, even separate from her slightly, he snuggled further into her, hiding his face in the flesh of her neck. He felt her sigh and in that instant his heart broke. That sigh ... it was a sigh of disappointment, of sorrow. He closed his eyes, accepting the fact that she only did this as a favor, an obligation to him as a friend and when the morning came ... she would turn a cold shoulder and he would have to leave, never to hold her like this again.

Trish still didn't push him off and Chris did not want to move. And so he sighed, doing his best to fall asleep in her arms. It didn't take long.

+++

Trish squinted as the early light of morn poured through her window, bright on her eyes and she yawned, rubbing the sleep away. She could feel warmth behind her and she smiled. She could feel Chris's warmth. His back was probably to her as he slept and he was still emanating that warmth that she'd always loved about him.

Sighing contently, she nuzzled her pillow a moment, enjoying the satisfied feeling that still massaged her core. She'd never known sex could feel the way it felt last night. Everything Chris did, from his mouth to the look in his eye to his hands and his body and that beautiful groin. She'd never felt sensations so erotic, never felt the pangs and completion like this before.

She'd never woken up still satisfied from the night before. Never climaxed more than once in a night, never knew Chris was such an amazing and attentive lover. The way he touched her and kissed her. Oh, the way he kissed her. She'd never been kissed like that before. By such soft lips ... such an expertly slick tongue that knew exactly the right thing to do.

She could still taste him, feel his sweat still on her, still feel where he was between her thighs, both his mouth and manhood giving her unknown quivers of rapture.

And then there was the look in his eyes. The look of raw unadulterated love that glimmered behind icy blue. She'd never seen that in the eyes of any man before, the last person she even wanted to see that in was Chris. But there they were, entangled in the primal joining of man and woman ... and she saw. She saw where his heart truly lie, saw what he truly felt. If only she kept her eyes closed, envisioned anyone but him.

She couldn't.

She'd felt such indescribable bliss that she couldn't look away. She had to meet the eyes of this man who'd given her almost unbearable pleasure. She expected to see only pent up lust and animal instincts driving him.

No.

No, that wasn't it. He showed a far cry from what she expected. Yes, those primitive, lust driven sparks still burned bright, but there was so much more. Such love and devotion and adoration ... she'd been looking for that in a man her whole life.

Trish smiled. She was so relieved she'd said yes to him. Part of her wanted to say No, to deny them that passion filled moment. But her mouth had uttered yes and she couldn't withdraw. And now, she wouldn't give back that night for anything. She'd finally found a man who truly loved her in every sense of the word.

Chris wholly and truly loved her. She knew him well; they were friends after all. And she did find him attractive, even more so after watching him the previous night. His eyes, Good Lord, his eyes. So bright and vibrant and easily read.

There was a reason she couldn't look away from him as they were entwined in the most heated lover's dance. She'd fallen in love with him. That very instant, she'd fallen in love. She did already love him as a friend and when he showed her such desire, such passion, she couldn't help but return his feelings. Each passing swoop of his tongue, each impassioned thrust of his hips, every caress of his hands ... he'd claimed her. And she was his.

There was no question in her mind. Trish felt something that night. Something she didn't want to lose. She was more than willing to give him a chance; wanting to experience the true love that man would most wrenchingly give. She burned for him. That beautiful smile still tweaking her lips, she turned in the bed.

But the smile fell, confusion setting in. The bed was empty. She knew it wasn't a dream ... she could tell by the sheets, the rumpled mess of the covers. His warmth still emanated from where he once lay and on the pillow was a piece of paper, what looked to be a quickly scrawled note.

Trish,

Hopefully, by the time you reais Iis I'd have found the courage to pull the trigger ...

Not even bothering to read the rest, Trish dropped the note to the bed, jumping to her feet and pulling on the nearest clothing she could find. Racing out her door, she frantically looked one way then the next, charging down the hall to his door and knocking loudly. "Chris! Chris Jericho, Please God, are you in there?"

Chris choked on his sob, the barrel of a revolver in his mouth and he heard her voice, her pleas. His hand shaking as he held the handgun in place, a jittering finger on the trigger.

"Chris, please, Good Lord please be in there. Tell me you didn't do anything yet. Please, God, I beg you tell me he's ok."

Chris squeezed his eyes shut, sealing his lips around the barrel, his twitching finger putting the slightest bit more pressure on the trigger.

"Chris, God Chris I can hear you in there. I hear you breathing, crying. Please ... please don't do this. I ... I read the first line of your letter and I didn't bother reading the rest. I ... I just had to come stop you. Please, God, tell me I stopped you."

The barrel slipped from his mouth, the gun hanging weakly at his side, his arms drawn and relaxed. His face scrunched in pain, his hot tears still pouring down his face and he shook off that weakness, putting the gun in his mouth again.

"Chris, Chris Please ... I ... if you're in there ... I ... I know you're in there. Let ... let me in. I ... I can't lose you Chris. You mean everything to me."

Again, Chris shook his head. They were only friends and would never be more. He knew that and after spending that one night in her arms, one night that would never happen again ... he could never be with another woman. He didn't want another woman; there was nothing left to live for.

He could hear her crying on the other side of the door, her sobs tearing at his heart. But she didn't understand. She couldn't understand. And she ... she ... she would never love him the way he needed to be love.

"Chrissy, Please." She begged him, her body growing weak with her sobs. "Please, Chrissy ... just ... just ... God, help me I don't know what to do."

Five more minutes ... that was all he needed. If only she read the whole letter, there would have been no indeci. B. But now, she was banging on his door, pleading for him to stop, to open the door for her. She didn't finish the letter; she had no idea that he was doing this for her ... for himself.

He turned his back on the door, stepping closer to the window and looking out, the gun dropping to his side again as he stared transfixed on the outside. The door opened behind him and he spun, his eyes wild and angry. Test stood there with Trish, the woman in tears herself, his friend wide-eyed and shocked.

He shook his head, furious that they barged inside. "GET OUT!" Chris spat, gripping the handle of the gun so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

Test quickly shut the door, standing in front of it, shocked. Trish took a precious moment to shake away her surprise. Chris just stood in the center of the room holding a gun, completely naked, animalistic in his fury. She took one step. "Chris ..."

"Don't Chris me!" He screamed, waving the gun in the air then pointing it at his throat.

"NO!" Trish screamed, rushing closer to him.

"What?" Chris asked her, his voice a delicate sneer. "This? This frightens you?"

"Chris, Please." She cried, the tears scrolling down her cheeks. "Please don't. Oh God."

He turned his back. "I don't want you to see me do this."

"No," she said forcefully, stepping right up to him and spinning him to face her. His eyes were wide and she glared at him. "If you're going to do this ..."she swallowed hard. "I want you to look me in the eye as you pull the trigger."

Chris swallowed hard, his lower lip starting to quiver. His body shook, convulsed as his heart raced somewhere in his throat.

"Can you even look me in the eye, Christopher?" she challenged though her eyes pleaded for him to lower the gun.

Fired, his eyes flew to hers, locking passionately, his ice blue to her chocolate brown. Cold and impersonal, he put the barrel of the gun in his mouth again and pulled the trigger.

+++

Her eyes wide, Trish bolted up, her body covered with sweat, and she looked frantically around the hotel room. Panting, dizzy with fear and overwhelming emotions from her nightmare, her eyes focusn hin him. It was still very dark in the room, pale shatters of moonlight glistening sharply through the room. Chris sat naked in one of the hotel chairs, his back to her. She could hear the faint sound of wooden scratching; he was writing.

Standing on shaky legs, she pulled the freed sheet up, wrapping her nude body and she walked next to him, gently combing fingfingers through his hair.

Chris shuddered, ducking his head as the pen slipped out of his fingers, his writing hand clenching, crumpling and fisting the paper as he withheld an almost silent sob.

Her hand still petting his sweat sticky hair, she reached with her other hand, moving his hand off the table and away from the paper. Leaning down slightly, she unwrinkled the paper and read:

Trish,

I'm lost. I have no other choice, I don't know what to do. I'm weak, Trish. And I never should have asked you to do what you did for me last night. It was wrong of me, and I know that. I'm sorry. But after last night, I just have no other choice. I forced something from you that you never wanted to give me. I took something from you that can never be given back. It was something that I never deserved.

I know that you don't feel the same way about me and I've accepted that. I should have walked away then and left everything as it was. But I didn't, and I was foolish.

Last night was the most wonderful experience for me, though it was probably horrifying for you. And I want to apologize for the way I was. I'm selfish and stupid and I don't deserve to live. I was haunted by your eyes, and just you because I couldn't get the look of disgust out of my mind.

And I forced that disgust into your head. I hate myself. I hate myself for forcing my desires on the woman I love. How can I claim to love you and then go and do something so sinister, so demonic? I can't ...

Trish licked her lips as his words scribbled off to unreadable jabber and she closed her eyes, trying to withhold the tears. She felt him tense, his body shuddering even harder as he ducked his head further, curling into himself in his weakened guilty state.

He leaned away from her, shrugging away her touch as if unworthy of so intimate a contact. Trish felt her heart stir at the obs res rejection and shame in his every manner. His slumped shoulders, his downcast eyes and ducked head. His body curled into himself, his knee lifted and hiding his naked groin, shy and self-conscious.

Trish sighed, noting his immediate position. She did not hesitate. Placing a hand on his knee, she uncrossed his legs. When he shied further away, she remained gentle and persistent. Running her hand through his hair, she sat down in his lap and cupped his cheek with her other hand.

He violently shook her hand away, turning his head even further. But she tried again, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. He didn't fight this time, but still kept his eyes closed, his lips pressed so tightly together she couldn't even see them.

She trailed her fingers over his brow and his lips parted in a shaky sorrowed sigh. Again, she cupped his cheeks, her one thumb brushing gently over his lips. Her fingers caressing his cheeks, she pulled his head forward, pressing her forehead to his, her eyes fluttering closed as she nuzzled nose to nose with him, the gesture most affectionate.

His breath in a constant catch, Chris squeezed his eyes shut, the tears still leaking out the corners nonetheless. Shaking his head, he tried to pull away from her, but she wouldn't have it and tightened her hold, her forehead still pressed to his.

Quivering, hisy shy shivering, his lips trembled through whimpered cries, soft and insecure in his heart wrenching display of sorrow. Moved to tears herself, Trish raked her fingers back through his hair, tangling with the long locks as she pulled his head into the crook of her neck, burying her face in his throat as she tightly embraced him.

Unable to resist, Chris wrapped his arms around her smaller body, clutching at her in the fiercest embrace. Her scent, her touch, though comforting brought more pain, more memories of what he'd done to her ... of what he'd forced from her.

Trish could feel his pain infusing through her with each passing moment in his arms. His hot tears scorched her skin, his involuntary shaking heart shattering in its intensity. Snaking her arms tighter around his head, she clung to him, rocking back and forth, just holding him. He nuzzled against her throat, the slight scruff of his stubble causing her to shiver.

Rubbing her cheek against his, Trish lifted her head slightly, pressing her cheek to his then turning her head, placing the softest kiss on his ear. Her kisses soft and gentle, she trailed her lips along the contour of his jaw. Slowly and slower still, she kissed along his scruff-covered jaw. Combing through his hair, her hands settled on his cheeks, holding him gently as she scattered kisses on his chin then brushed her soft lips up to his.

She did nothing but that, constantly brushing her parted lips to his, the two sharing the most erotically affectionate sensation. Chris was still crying, his tears not ceasing, his parted lips still quivering as she brushed against them. Pained by his condition, Trish wrapped her lips around his, stilling their trembling best she could. She didn't deepen the kiss, simply held his lips lovingly with hers.

Releasing him, his lips immediately started trembling again, his cries expelled on shaky breaths and she didn't hesitate to take his lips with hers again. When he shook his head, trying to pull away, she only kept her him steady, wrapping her lips around his a number of times.

In that final moment, Chris wrapped his arms tightly around her, crushing his mouth against hers, his hands running up and down her back then finally up to rake through her hair and hold her as close as possible, tilting her head so he could press even closer to her.

Trish caved into him, her hands equally as mobile through his hand ond over his shoulders and back, clinging to him in her desperation for his touch. Letting the sheet drop to the floor, she swung a leg over his thighs, kneeling on the cushion as she straddled his lap, pushing as close to him as possible.

Pulling back to breath, her eyes half lidded as she looked in his eyes, both lovers licked their lips and Trish pulled her hair out of her face, flipping the long locks over one shoulder before ducking down again, capturing his mouth. Massaging and kneading the muscles of her back, Chris couldn't contain his whimpers, his moans as she finally flicked her tongue at his lips. He was more than willing to deepen this kiss.

Their tongues tangling in passion, Trish ran her hands down his chest and abs then pressing the palm into his sensitive groin. Chris harshly broke the kiss, pulling away and staring up at her with wide worried eyes. His breath in pants, his skin flushed, and nerves clear in his eyes, he licked his kiss-swollen lips.

She cupped the back of his neck with one hand and she twisted at the waist, brushing the paper and pens off the table. Clutching at the back of his neck, she placed her other hand on the table, lifting herself onto it, bringing him with her. Sitting on the table's edge, he stood between her legs, those long smooth legs locking around his waist to keep him placed. Turning her eyes back to him, she squeezed the back of his neck, her other hand trailing down his chest and abs to fist his half erect member.

His eyes widened and he gasped, jostling and jerking at first and his gaze filled with worry and fear. But Trish kept her stare intense, massaging him to his full length then tightening her legs, pulling him closer.

Chris's eyes fluttered at the feel, but he still didn't move, his eyes remained scared and worried, nervousness clear in every feature, even the unsteady quivering of his body, though Trish didn't know if that was from nerves or from arousal. Her hand still caressing the back of his neck, tangling affectionately in his long hair, her other hand traced around his waist then clutched at his back, pulling him close to her.

But still, Chris did nothing, just looked at her, dumbly as if unsure of what she wanted from him. His worries and paranoia evident, he swallowed hard, licking his lips.

Trish kissed him, soft and gentle as she held their eye contact. Barely breaking away, she exhaled a shaky breath onto his delicately parted lips, her hips arching into him, wordlessly submitting to her desperation for him.

Nodding his understanding, Chris captured her lips, instantly deepening the kiss until he couldn't reach any further down her throat. Gripping her waist, he lifted her with ease, impaling her on his rigid member. She moaned into his mouth and she tightened her legs, holding herself in place as he turned from the table, falling onto the bed at their side.

She grunted at the impact and he jerked further into her, almost painfully in that harsh instant and her grunt resounded in a fusion of pleasure and pain. Easing further onto the bed, she settled comfortably into the mattress and spurred him, causing his hips to jolt.

Moaning at the slicked trembling of her tunnel, Chris broke the kiss to breathe, looking in her eyes for assurance. She pulled at his head, her eyes filled with need and want. Chris kissed her again, thrusting and rocking into her. Harder and faster and deeper, his kiss intensified with every thrust until they were breathless and even then, he wouldn't stop.

Breathing the air from her lungs, he squeezed his eyes shut, breaking away, his head bowed as his thrusts grew frenzied. Desperation and love infusing every motion, his hair hung low, brushing over her chest with every thrust. He didn't want to see the pity in her eyes, the favor she ...

Trish cupped his face, forcing his head up and their eyes to meet. Chris gasped, his thrusts slowed to a steady rock as he was entranced by the look in her eyes. A smile pulled at the corner of Trish's mouth, her lips tweaking as she caressed his face and brow. She arched her hips into his, rocking into his body. She ran her hands down to his chest, massaging his pecks then up his neck to cup the back of his head. Her eyes fell closed as she leaned up, brushing her lips over his as she sighed his name. "Chris, love me."

Overwhelmed, Chris kissed her, his lips roughly crashing against her as his tongue yeag seg searched and tangled with hers. His hips spurring, their chests rubbing together with each thrust, their bodies in a constant rock as they clutched to each other, both desperately aching for the love-filled ecstasy that only the other could bring.

Harder and deeper, he thrust with her. Seconds, minutes passed. Their legs tangled, bodies slicked with desired sweat and finally, Chris broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers as her body stiffened, a low rumbling moan slipping from her lips as she voiced her completion. Enraptured in blissful pleasure, he gave into the sensations, climaxing and exploding into her wondrous body.

Minutes later, his eyes fluttered open, his head lovingly pillowed on her chest, his breaths still short and panting. Her chest rose and fell with the breath she desperately tried to control. He sighed; snuggling further into her slicked body, her hand raked through his sweat-soaked hair, combing it out of his face.

"Chris."

He hummed, her chest vibrating with the word and a warm smile spread onto his face.

"Stay with me." She said, cradling him preciously in her arms.

Lifting his head, Chris looked in her eyes and his heart burst at the love that was finally mirrored back.

"Kiss me, Chris." She pleaded, pulling on his hair.

Licking his lips, he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Say it. Tell me."

Running her fingers through his hair, she pulled him down, his parted lips hovering over hers. "I love you." Trish breathed into his sweet mouth.

Moaning his joy at her words, he licked his lips one last time. "Chris."

"I love you, Chris." And she proved those words with a passionate kiss.

- FIN