I own none of the WWE superstars (but I'd love to own Mark for a night).
I've been married to my husband, Glen Jacobs, for six years now. If you guys are wondering, Glen is better known as Kane, a WWE superstar. The Big Red Machine...
Anyway, a couple of months ago, Glen was allowed to take a vacation. I was happy about it. The night he was due to arrive home, I had the place all set up. Dinner was ready, there were rose petals leading up to the bedroom, and there were candles, too. I had on my sexiest, tightest dress, and I have to admit, I looked hot!
The only thing missing was Glen.
When I heard the door opening, I hurried over to meet him.
"Hi sweetie!" I exclaimed when he walked in. I leaned up and captured his lips for a hungry kiss.
"Where's mine?" a sarcastic voice asked from behind Glen.
I broke the kiss and peered around Glen. I couldn't believe who I saw. The mood was definitely ruined!
"Glen, what the hell is Mark doing here?" I asked, fuming.
If you guys don't know, Mark Calaway is the WWE's Undertaker. And back then, we never got along. He always accused me of marrying Glen for his money. It's not a surprise that we were mortal enemies. I hated his guts and he assured me that the feeling was mutual.
"Is that any way to greet me?" Mark asked. He looked down at the dress and stilettos I was wearing. "Perhaps you should go put on some clothes. You ain't getting none tonight, darlin."
"Don't call me darlin, you pig," I said to him, then turned back to Glen. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming?"
"Well, babe, I forgot to tell you. And I didn't think you'd mind, considering everything he's been through these last few months."
Ah, the divorce. Mark had just gotten out of a very ugly relationship that he'd been in. Glen had never told me the reason why Mark had gotten the divorce, but he had mentioned how hurt Mark had been. Hurt, my ass. He was the one always causing other people pain!
I looked up at Glen, and I could see him pleading with his eyes. I sighed and gave in. He smiled.
"Baby, how about you show Mark to his room then? I need a shower," Glen said.
I sighed again. "Ok, sweetie." He leaned down and kissed me before heading upstairs for what I knew would be a very long shower.
"We won't see him again for an hour," Mark said with a little laugh.
I looked at him, surprised. He had a sense of humor? Mark?
"You know why? Because he'll be using his hands to handle what you're not able to do," he continued.
"You ass," I said. I headed up the stairs, expecting him to follow. I looked behind me, only to find him still standing by the door. "What the hell are you waiting for, you big dummy? Come on!"
"Not until you apologize," he said, folding his arms across his chest and giving me a dark look.
"For what?" I asked.
"For calling me an ass and a dummy," he snapped.
"Hell no," I snapped back. "Why should I?"
"Because... Damn it, that hurt," he said hoarsely. He looked like he was actually about to cry! Something was definitely wrong here.
I walked back down the stairs and over to him. Putting my hand on his arm, I looked up into his green eyes. "I'm really sorry for what I said," I said sincerely. "Now, can I show you up to your room?"
"Sure... Right after I finish rolling on the floor laughing my ass off," he said. When I didn't understand, he went on, "I win again. I made you apologize."
"You..." My voice trailed off as I tried to think of an insult he was worthy of being called.
"Sexy beast? Muscular man? Good-looking deadman?" he filled in.
"Sexy beast? Try jackass," I snapped, then started up the stairs. "I'm showing you to your room. Follow me or stay by the door, I don't give a good damn either way."
He laughed, then picked up his luggage and followed me. "So I knew you'd jump at the first chance you got to touch me," he was saying. "I know you were getting hot when you touched my arm."
"In your dreams, you devil," I said, as I continued to walk up the stairs. I led him down the hall to the room I knew Glen wanted him to have: the guest room next to our master bedroom.
"Maybe," he said absently as I opened the bedroom door.
"Maybe what?" I asked as I flipped on the light and started walking around the room, just generally inspecting it to make sure it would be ok for him. Not that I really cared.
"Maybe I do dream about you," he said in a low voice, right before the lights went out.
"Did you turn the lights out?" I asked him. Since it was pretty late, the room was pitch black. I couldn't see anything.
"Why ask a question you already know the answer to, darlin?" he asked from somewhere nearby, and the next thing I knew, he had me pressed against the nearest wall.
"Mark? What the fu-"
I was rudely interrupted when his lips pressed against mine. I struggled against him at first. But pretty soon, I gave in completely. He was a great kisser, much better than Glen. I found my fingers tangling through his hair as I greedily deepened the kiss.
Suddenly, he pulled back. I guess he was looking at me, or at least trying to, in the thick darkness. A few seconds later, the lights flipped on. I leaned against the wall, clutching my lips and trying to catch my breath while he watched with an amused look on his face.
"What was that for?" I asked, my voice a little unsteady.
He smiled. "Just proving a point."
"What point?" I asked, bewildered.
"The same one I've been trying to make for...oh...six years," he said. "You don't love Glen."
"How can you say that? I do love him!" I exclaimed.
"Then why were you so eager to kiss me then, sweet thing?" he asked.
I didn't know what to say, because I had been pretty eager. "You kissed me first," was all I could think of to say.
"And you kissed me back. You've been wanting that, it's obvious," he said. "Quit denying it, you want me."
"You conceited man," I said. I could feel tears stinging my eyes. "You are such an asshole!" I rushed past him, accidentally brushing against him in my attempt to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.
"Glad to be of service," he called after me. I went into our master bedroom and slammed the door as hard as I could behind me.