#merchfreak

           Case in point… it was a tag match. The Elite versus Proud and Powerful and Sammy. My on-screen beau was in the ring, grappling with Matt Jackson. Kenny was laid out on the floor somewhere, and Nick was waiting in the face corner, leaning over the rope to reach for his brother. With Kenny out of the way and Matt being smacked around in the heel corner, dear sweet Baby Buck was ripe for the picking.

           I strolled around the side of the ring, blowing a kiss into the camera as I walked by. I put a little bit of sashay into my hips as I stroked my fingers along the ring apron. Nick bounced up and down, wiggling his fingers for the tag. I stopped a foot or so away and appraised him with a long look from his boots all the way up to his hair. My shoulders bobbed in a shrug and I plastered an I could do worse expression on my face.

           Keeping an eye on what was going on in the ring, I climbed up onto the apron and struck a pose—hands on my hips, weight on one leg, the other bent at the knee. I cleared my throat loud enough that the front row could hear.

           Nick glanced up then back to the ring. Then… right back to me. His ice blue eyes swept over me, an angry yet appreciative expression taking over his face.

           I licked my lips and looked him up and down. “Like what you see, Nick?” I asked, putting emphasis on his name.

           His expression tipped into intrigued yet annoyed. “What are you doing, Mels? Get outta my corner!” He shooed me away with a flick of his wrist.

           I smiled, pleased to have already drawn his attention from the match. My feet carried me toward him, and I reached out to stroke my fingertips up his forearm to his bicep. His gaze shifted from my hand on his arm to my face. He gasped a breath and licked his lips.

           I chanced a quick glace at the match. Matt had broken away from Sammy and Santana and was crawling toward his brother. Sammy was clawing himself right behind, reaching for the elder Jackson’s ankle to drag him back. It would be a perfect, dramatic moment for a hot tag.

           Too bad they aren’t getting one, I thought as I skimmed my hand up behind his neck and dragged him close, planting my lips against his. My fingers threaded into his hair, holding him in place. For a second, he was startled. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he slipped one hand against the back of my head and let the other settle on my hip. He kissed me back—chaste as it was—and my entire body tingled.

           I opened my eyes just a little, just enough to see that Matt had made it to the corner but found that his partner was occupied. Sammy and Santana grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him back to our side. The moment they had Matt subdued, I planted my palms on Nick’s shoulders and pushed him away.

           Before he could say anything, I hopped down from the apron and scurried back to the Inner Circle corner. Thankfully—and perfectly planned—Referee Bryce didn’t see a thing.

***

           “Beautiful work out there, Mels,” Sammy said as he leaned against the wall backstage to catch his breath. “Nick looked like he was going to pass out.”

           I gave an exaggerated curtsey and grinned. “It was absolutely my pleasure to distract Nicky Blue Eyes for you.”

           My friend laughed and ran a hand over his sweaty hair. “If the cameras hadn’t been on, you’d have really stuck your tongue down his throat.”

           My eyes rolled so far back into my head that I thought they’d get stuck. I felt the faint flutter of my heart in my chest. The memory of kissing Nick Jackson in front of thousands of people made a bolt of electricity run through my body. It was a delicious ache that settled behind my ribs and spread through my limbs. I shrugged and lifted a brow. “I’d do more than that.”

           Sammy opened his mouth to reply, but something caught his eye over my shoulder. I followed the line of his gaze and saw Nick standing in the center of the hallway on the other side of the entrance tunnels, his arms crossed over his bare chest. His eyes were locked on me. His stance commanding and intimidating. There was a faint, mischievous smirk on his lips.

           He held out his hand and crooked his index and middle fingers in a come here gesture. Then he turned his hand over, using those same fingers to indicate that I needed to come here to this exact spot right in front of me now. Heat licked the base of my spine.

           “I think Nicky Blue Eyes is looking for you,” Sammy said, his voice low and teasing. “And he looks a little… frustrated.”

           I punched him in the arm. “Shut up, Sammy.”

           Nick quirked a brow, the mischief on his face turning a little darker. I moved toward him like he was a magnet dragging me closer. His blue eyes locked onto mine as I closed the space between us. He ran a hand back over his hair, lifting it from his neck and shoulders.

           When I got within a few feet, I could see the sweat darkening his hairline and settling along the slope of his collarbones and the hollow of his throat. He worked at the gum between his teeth, drawing my attention to the curves and muscles of his jaw. My heart picked up with the heady scent of him—sweat and the smell that was incomparably him—as he stepped into my personal space. Heat radiated off him, seeping into my skin.

           “What’s up, Nick?” I said slowly, doing my best to remember Penelope’s lessons. My voice dropped just a little and I tilted my head, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

           He popped the gum between his front teeth, looking almost as if he were pursing his lips for a kiss. His brow shot up, blue eyes twinkling with mischief tinged with mirth. “Still playing coy, Melody?”

           There was something dark in his voice that made a shiver run down my spine. I felt my lips curl up, and I looked up at him with what I was certain were dark doe eyes. “You don’t know what I’m playing, Jackson.”

           Nick closed his eyes and leaned his head back. I watched him breathe deeply and took a little joy in knowing that I got to him. It was part of this back-and-forth that we had—never quite saying or doing exactly what we wanted to. The longer I looked, the more I realized that Sammy was right. Nick looked more frustrated than I’d ever seen him. It was a heady thing to know I was the cause.

           After a moment, he looked down at me again. This time, I couldn’t ignore the heat that burned behind the sweet blue of his irises. Without a word, he took me by the wrist and pulled me down the hallway. I rushed to keep up with his longer stride. His grip was strong and firm, but not enough to hurt. My heart beat a rhythm behind my ribs, pulsing until I was sure it was going to burst through my chest.

           Nick walked right by the EVP dressing room. Past hospitality, the medics, the costumers, Tony’s office. Far away from the general men and women’s locker rooms. After what felt like forever, he shoved the door of a room open and nearly dragged me in behind him. The door shut behind me with a deep finality.

           It was dark. The weren’t any windows, so I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. But I could sense Nick nearby. I could still smell the scent of his skin and feel the heat of his body. The blackened silence seemed to heighten those senses. It made my body tingle from head to toe.

           Time stretched out. It compressed into this single moment that seemed to pass in a flash. It was too long and yet not long enough. My breath quickened as I waited, standing somewhere in the darkened room, listening, and sensing around me for Nick.

           I licked my lips, ready to say his name. But before I could, his hands slipped up my arms and cradled my neck in his fingertips. His thumbs pressed into the soft spot beneath my chin, forcing my face to tilt upward. I took a breath, drunk on him, and opened my eyes wide, trying to make out his shape in the darkness. My hands pushed into the space around me, searching… finally brushing against warm, smooth flesh. Flattening my palms, I felt the curve of his ribs.

           “What are—” The full question didn’t make it out before his mouth was on mine. I let out a faint gasp of surprise as he tilted my head, taking control. His tongue swept along my lips. His thumbs pressed against my chin almost painfully.

           Almost as soon as it began, it ended. Nick stepped away and cold air rushed into the space where his body had been. Goosebumps prickled along my skin. I took a step back, glad to come up against the wall. My knees felt like they were about to buckle beneath me.

           “That was for that stunt you pulled out there,” he growled out from somewhere to my left. I heard the barely suppressed emotion in his words. My blood pounded in my ears.

           I whimpered a little as I let the wall hold my weight. “Just doing my job,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

           Within an instant, he was there, his body pressing me back against the wall. His knee slipped between mine as his fingers caught my wrists and pinned them next to my head. The cool cinderblock of the wall was a heady contradiction to the heat of his skin and muscle.

           His nose brushed against my neck as he leaned in, putting his mouth close to my ear. “We both know you were doing more than that, Mels.” He dragged my hand from the wall and pressed my palm against the front of his pants. Reflexively, instinctively, my hand curved against the length of his hardening cock. He hissed. “See what you did?”

           I felt my lips curve upward, boldness rising within my blood. “Not my fault you can’t control yourself, Jackson.” I rubbed my palm against his cock, my grin getting broader when he let out a low moan. “Not my fault that any girl in some short shorts gets you going.”

           Nick snarled and jerked my hand back up, pinning it once again against the wall. His mouth traveled up my throat, leaving warm open-mouthed kisses along my flesh. “Hmm, that’s where you’re wrong,” he growled into my ear. His knee wedged my legs wider until his thigh pressed against my core. I bit down on my lip to hold back the whimper that built in my chest. “The only girl in short shorts that gets me going is you. I can’t control myself because of you, Mels.”

           I struggled for a moment, trying to get my hands free. Nick’s grip wasn’t painful, but it was enough to keep me under his control. He pressed his cheek against mine and chuckled darkly. The heat of his body made me feel like I was burning up from the inside out. I licked my lips, gasping a breath that overwhelmed me with the scent of him. I thrashed again and my hips rocked hard, sending a shower of sparks through my center. It wouldn’t surprise me if there was a wet spot on his gear when he moved.

           I moaned despite myself.

           “There we go,” Nick purred against my throat. He draped one of my arms around his neck and used the free hand to slide up beneath my shirt. His fingertips ghosted over my ribs and tugged on the laces that held the front of my gear top together. “Can you make that sound for me again?”

           His teeth nipped at my shoulder as he threw my other arm around his neck. With both hands free, he dug his fingers into the slashes in my shirt and ripped the fabric until it hung from my shoulders in tatters. He dipped his head, swirling his tongue around my nipple as his hands traveled lower, working the button of my shorts free. The moment they slid down my thighs, Nick’s hand pushed between my legs. His fingers sought out and found my clit, circling and teasing it until I moaned and rocked my hips against his touch.

           Like a maestro, he played my body perfectly. I teetered on the edge of oblivion, so close to release. Nick pulled away just before my orgasm burst through me. I whimpered in frustration, my fingers digging into his shoulders. He took a step back, and I wished I could see him.

           “Get those off,” he ordered. I kicked my shorts and underwear away, struggling for a moment to get them over my shoes. I toed off the sneakers and stood barefoot in front of him, clad only in my open gear top and the shredded remains of my Inner Circle shirt. There was a rattle, the sound of a buckle being undone.

           “Turn around,” Nick said firmly.

           Almost as soon as I’d complied, Nick’s hands skimmed down my back and settled on my hips. He tugged me back toward him, and I knew what he wanted. I pressed my palms against the wall and pushed myself back. I heard his sigh as he curved his body over mine. His lips pressed against the back of my neck as he guided his cock into position.

           To his surprise, I didn’t give him the chance to push forward. Instead, I pushed myself back onto his cock. I groaned low in my chest as he bottomed out, stretching me until I could hardly keep the whimpers at bay.

           “Hmm, that’s how it is,” Nick practically snarled against my neck. He slipped one arm around my hip, fingers searching and circling my clit. His hips snapped hard against me. The other arm cupped my breast, squeezing the flesh and rolling my nipple between his fingers. “Come on, Mels. I can feel it. You’re holding back.”

           He pulled me up, flush against his chest, his voice snarling in my ear, demanding my climax. His fingers brushed my clit in just the right way, and I fell apart. I tumbled over the edge of my orgasm, nearly collapsing in his arms. Nick didn’t stop, his hips continuing to slam into me, prolonging my pleasure as he chased his own.

           A moment later, his body tensed, and he growled against the side of my neck. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he laughed. It was a warm, sweet sound that flooded my body with a different kind of heat.

           “God, I love you, Mels,” he said with a smile against my shoulder. “But please, for my sake, don’t do that again.”

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