My Pain in
the Ass! Series
Author: PaulenaK
Email:
toukalah@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Disclaimer:
Everything WWE belongs to Vince McMahon.
Feedback: Is
loved and much appreciated.
**
My Pain in
the Ass! 1/1
**
AN: 1st in
the ‘My Pain in the Ass!’ series
A door slamming at the end of the hallway brought him back down to
earth
with a worrying jolt as he realised just who he’s been gawking at.
Bitch!
How dare she stand there like that all sexy like in her expensive
pants and
jacket suit cut to perfection. Her long
hair falling over her shoulders in a
mass of waves, her every move causing
the tresses to dance an erotic dance
down her back.
He had the sudden urge to grab her, to draw her up against him and
plunder
those pouting pink lips, to prove to her
that he was every inch the savage
she thought he was.
There gazes locked and for a moment he couldn’t breath, couldn’t
think,
could only stare into her eyes, those
beguiling blue eyes that seemed able
to penetrate his very soul… and then
she turned away.
Things could be so different… he mused continuing to stare her and
sure enough their eyes met again. Met, held
and dared the unthinkable.
And then the boss’s daughter promptly gave him the finger.
Damn her!
He pretended to look past her and was rewarded for his slight
ignorance to
her presence when she blushed.
Take that! Not all men strive for your attention, there are those
select few
who recognise
you for the spoilt arrogant brat that you are!
Now all he had to do was keep telling himself
that and all these warm fuzzy
feelings he got whenever he was
around her would go away. All he had to do
was treat her as if she didn’t exist.
Yep. She doesn’t exist. She doesn’t ex-
Her laughter floated to him from across the room.
Crap!
How could he listen to the little voice in his head when she was
everywhere?
If he was in the gym, she was there doing a circuit. If he were in
the
cafeteria, she was there chatting with
the divas. If he was walking through
the god damn hotel lobby, she was there
standing at the elevator or talking
to the desk clerk.
And always, ‘ALWAYS’ he was aware of her watching him through those
wide
blue eyes when she thought he wasn’t
looking.
Just like he watched her.
Brock’s lips curled into a sneer.
If only she weren’t such a pain in the ass!
**
Like A Date
Part One
**
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Now is that anyway to treat your champion?”
“Considering I can’t physically pick you up and plant you on your
ass in
that very hallway you just came down
like I want to, I’m thinking ‘Yes’.”
“Oh, so unfriendly.” He held a
hand to his heart and took on an ‘I’ve just
lost my best friend’ expression.
Her gaze never wavered as her eyes shot daggers at him.
“And to think I volunteered to come pick you up when no one else
wanted the
job. Gee, Steph, not very popular
amongst daddy’s driving staff, are yah.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Or maybe,” he continued. “You’re ‘too’ popular.”
“Screw you!” she yelled stepping back to slam the door in his face.
“Not so fast, boss lady,” he said wedging his steel toed boot
between the
door and the jamb. “I was sent here to
escort you to the arena.” His eyes
roved down her body and she inadvertently
pulled her jacket more firmly
around her. “After you.”
He said easily pushing the door open more only to
lean against it, giving her no option
but to precede him.
Her glare firmly in place she pulled the strap of her purse up
higher on her
shoulder and took a step forward
expecting him to move away from the door,
but he proved yet again that she should
never expect the expected where he
was concerned.
He didn’t move an inch.
She brought herself up to her full height and met his stare head on
as her
body brushed against his as she made her
way out the door.
“You know,” he began once they had reached his car. “If it were
anyone but…
well… ‘You’… this would be just like a
date.” He said reaching out to open
the passenger door for her.
“It’s not a date.” She said calmly and collectively.
He shrugged. “I didn’t say it ‘was’ a date, I said it was ‘like’ a
date.”
“Just shut up and get me to the arena!” she screeched all signs of
the
calmness she had tried to erect gone.
“Your wish is my command.” He gave her a little bow before closing
the car
door, but not before he heard her reply.
“If that were so your ass would be on Raw.”
He smiled inwardly as he moved around to the driver’s door.
“You sure do bring up my ass a lot, Stephy-cakes.”
He smirked lowering
himself into the driver’s seat.
Stephanie remained silent although her straight as a rod posture and
tight
thin lips spoke a language he had
learned quick smart since meeting one
Stephanie McMahon.
He looked at her out the corner of his eye. Head held high, clenched
fists,
knee’s locked together… oh yes… she
definitely wanted to put him through the
windscreen.
Turning on the ignition the radio blared to life and Stephanie’s
lips
tightened more when Brock started
singing along to the tune.
“She really hates me… oh yeah... she really hates me…”
**
Like a Date
part Two – At the Arena
**
“Hey Steph, hold up a minute!”
Stephanie turned at the sound of her best friend’s voice and smiled
as he
slowly jogged up to her.
She smiled. “Hey, Kurt,”
“Please tell me the rumours aren’t true.”
The Olympic champion stated
slightly out of breath as he came to
a stop beside her, totally ignoring her
greeting.
“Which rumours are you referring too?”
He rolled his eyes as if to say ‘As if you didn’t know Miss
Stephanie
McMahon.’
But aloud he said. “The Stephanie arrived at the arena tonight with
Brock
Lesnar rumours.”
He planted his hand on his hip and turned his head to the
side as if she had done him a great
injustice.
“It was only a ride to the arena Kurt.”
His eyes widened in astonishment. “You mean it’s true!”
“Why all the drama,” Stephanie exclaimed. “So he gave me a ride, big
friggin’ deal.”
“The big friggin’ deal is that everyone
and I mean ‘everyone’ is saying it
was a date.” He countered.
Impatiently she tapped her foot, but her voice was as smooth as
silk.
“It wasn’t a date.”
Kurt still looked sceptical.
“May I ask how you’re getting home?”
Stephanie frowned, she hadn’t thought of that.
“Kurt,” she said trying another tactic. “I already have an
overbearing
father and an equally overbearing older
brother. I don’t need this from you,
my best friend in the whole wide world
as well.”
“Just answer the question.” He snapped tight lipped.
Stephanie’s shackles rose into over drive and her nostrils flared.
If Kurt
Angle thought he could bully her into giving him the answers he
wanted to
hear to appease his worried mind, well,
she’d damn well give him some
answers.
“Okay, you want to know how I’m getting home.”
“Yes, I want to know how you’re getting home.” He repeated.
“Brock.”
“What?”
“He brought me here, he can take me home.” She stated her eyes never
leaving
his.
Kurt mulled over her words for a minute before pinning her with a
disbelieving stare.
“Sounds like a date to me.”
“It’s not a date!” she shrieked.
“No, but it’s ‘like’ a date.”
Stephanie screamed in frustration, turned on her heel and stalked
away from
her best friend, cringing when his
parting words still reached her ears.
“Next thing you know you’ll both be walking down the aisle!”
**
Happily Ever
After… Not!
**
Stephanie tried not to meet her best friends ‘I told you so’ stare
as she
stood on the church steps next to Brock Lesnar.
Most said this marriage spelt ‘doom’ in capital letters especially
when they
decided to forgo tradition by
walking each other down the aisle and have all
their guests follow after them. And
Stephanie was determined to prove them
all wrong, even if it killed her, which
it most probably would.
“So, you really wanna get married huh?”
She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow.
“I don’t want to get married, ‘you’ want to
get married.” She said soothing
down the material of her fifty thousand
dollar wedding gown.
“I didn’t say ‘I’ wanted to get married.” He countered pulling at
his bow
tie. He hated wearing a tux. “I swore
if I ever got took the plunge, I would
get married then get drunk.”
She snorted rather unladylike.
“If anyone needs a drink it’s me because I’m not marrying you
sober.” She
grumbled leaning into her hip as she
returned his glare.
His nostrils flared and he leaned in till his face was no more then
a breath
away from hers.
“You know what little miss my daddy’s a billionaire?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me ‘farm boy’.” She countered her
gaze never
wavering from his.
“I’m starting to resent you.” He sneered forcing her to take a step
back as
he took a step forward. “If that’s the
way you feel about it,” he continued.
“Let’s just call the whole thing off!”
She wanted to stamp her foot and scream and shout at the top of her
lungs
for her father to fix this, but even
more then that she wanted to prove to
the man standing next to her that she
wasn’t a spoiled little brat who had a
tantrum every time she didn’t get
her way, so instead she settled for
burning a hole in his head with her
stare.
“Fine by me.” She stated
turning in a perfect half circle on the front steps
of the church with all there friends
and family staring up at them in utter
bewilderment and started
to graciously descend them.
She didn’t get far before she felt his strong grip on her arm and
she
inwardly smiled as Brock pulled her
not only back up the steps, but through
the open church door as well.
“Get you’re butt down that aisle, now!”
His voice floated back out to the waiting guests who could do
nothing but
shake there heads and laugh at the
ill-fated couple.
**
End Series
**