So, here I am. Many, many, MANY months overdue. And I have a dilemma. Due to my trying to actually write something and finish it before posting, I have a million unfinished projects because my mind always strays. I've decided I'm better off posting something so I feel guilty if I don't actually finish it.

And because I couldn't decide which story to publish, I've chosen two. I'm sorry if you notice any similarities (I'll try my best to weed these out before posting) but I was only going to post one story so... Some of the similarities I couldn't change because it would change the whole story.

There'll be plenty of sex and bad language in this one. The other one won't be any better. (In fact, the other one is quite worse) If easily offended, please don't read.

As always, I appreciate any reviews, constructive or otherwise.

And may I say I'm pregnant and very lazy at the moment. On a good day bedtime is about ten pm. On a bad one (and these come often) I'm in bed the same time I put my two year old to bed (7.30). Sorry, but this means I might take longer to update than before. I can't help it. I can no longer sit by my laptop until three am trying to get an update out.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Nothing in this story should be taken as truth in part or whole. Everything/everyone else is owned by World Wrestling Entertainment or by the individuals themselves, except my OCs. No copyright infringement intended. And I am not getting paid a single penny for this. If you sue, you'll only get the £0.50 in my purse. Sorry.

He pushed her back against the fridge hard as his body crushed into hers. She tasted so good... so damn good. She was completely naked except for the lacy French panties, his for the taking. Her lips were making him giddy; he really thought he was going to explode right there. Her little body was writhing in his arms, her silky skin rubbing against his as she moaned against his lips.

"Mine," he growled, his lips leaving her momentarily. "Nobody else's. Just mine."

"Yours," she murmured backed, her big hazel eyes now liquid gold with desire.

He attacked her lips hungrily after this admission, torturing himself with her searing touch. Her little fingers were everywhere, burning him, branding him. He needed to touch her too.

While his one hand continued to grip her butt and press her into him really hard, his other found her breast, gently moulding it before it trailed down to her butt as well. All the while she was moaning his name, begging him, making him so hot. He couldn't take it.

Impatiently, he ripped the panties off her, immediately finding her sweetness with his fingers. She screamed against his lips, grinding her hips forward against his finger. She felt so good, so tight. She felt so incredible in his arms, her soft skin against his hard body. He needed to taste it, every inch of it.

And he did.

His lips left hers to start trailing her neck, licking, sucking, and biting. She was like ecstasy. The taste of her, the very scent of her... so addictive. His erection was throbbing against her body, dying for its release. She was so hot...

Gently lifting her up, he took a few steps towards the door to head to his bedroom but he realised he wouldn't make it that far. He needed her too badly.

So he put her down on the kitchen floor. He was already naked, so there was no need to waste time.

That first urgent thrust was both intense and shocking. She screamed, this time in pain. He had just broken through a barrier. Immediately stopping his frenzied movements, he looked down into her beautiful face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.

"Because you would have stopped," she answered, and then she proceeded to wrap her legs around him, pushing him deeper into her hot sweetness.

"God," he moaned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she smiled. "Make love to me, Jeff."

She looked so beautiful, so horny, how could he refuse?

He moved slowly at first so her virgin walls could get used to the size of him, but it only took a few thrusts for him to completely lose his head. He couldn't have been gentle even if someone was holding a gun to his head. She felt too good; so tight, so incredible. And when she finally got used to the invasion and started to moan... when started screaming in pleasure, he couldn't help himself.

He shot his load into her, every drop of it, while a pure animalistic howl escaped from deep inside him.

He dropped to his elbows, careful not to put his whole weight on her tiny body while he dropped a kiss on her lips. He'd been selfish; he hadn't brought her to completion.

"I'm sorry. I promise it will be so much better next time," he whispered.

"It will? But that was so good," she said, slightly in awe.

He chuckled, kissing her again.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet, kid," he laughed.

"So show me."

He grinned down at her, already getting hard again inside her.

"Have my babies."

"I'll have ten of 'em," she smiled.


"Mmm," she answered.

"Let's get married."


"So I can hold you to that. You will have my babies, Keri."


"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you."

o O o

Jeff woke up with a raging hard on, the dream still so fresh in his head. It always seemed so damn real.

Then in the harsh morning light he would proceed to push the dream to the far recesses of his mind where it belonged. He would try to forget he'd felt everything; every single touch, every single kiss, even the tightness of her body as he plunged into her as if she was actually there underneath him. And he would also try to forget he'd felt all the strong feelings that crashed into him, that made him dizzy with this sickening longing for her.

Two whole months he'd had this dream. Or nightmare. Whatever. Was he being punished? Probably.

Deciding he wouldn't get anymore sleep, even though the sun hadn't even come up yet, he quietly walked across the hall to the bathroom for a quick shower.

He needed to scrub that bitch from his thoughts.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in just a pair of jeans, he was making his way downstairs when he heard it. A loud crashing sound from the kitchen.

Frowning, he continued down the stairs slowly. His brother, Matt, was still sleeping – he'd heard the soft snores as he'd passed his door – and as far as he knew, there was no one else in the house.

At the foot of the stairs, he picked up one of Matt's baseball bats that was along the wall, and continued slowly towards the sound.

The stairs came down straight into Matt's foyer, which was flanked by the cosy den and the spacious lounge. A long hallway led off it with numerous doors that led into the dining room, the gym, the game room and Matt's office; and it came to the back of the house where the kitchen was.

As he came to the kitchen he saw the light on and paused briefly to weigh the bat in his hand before he held it ready to swing. They'd had a few Hardy fans come up to the house lately, just asking if they could hang out like they were friends or something. As much as he adored them and did his best in the ring to entertain them, that shit was just plain freaky.

Hopefully, whoever was in that kitchen was just a fan. He could just ask them to leave.

If it was a burglar, then he was sure as hell going to use the bat.

But as he rounded the corner, bat ready, he stopped dead in his tracks. Froze, would have been a better word. He couldn't have moved even if he'd wanted to.

Keri Christos was back. And his life was about to be turned upside down again.

Bent over, inspecting the contents of Matt's fridge, was the same butt that had been invading his dreams. Clad in the skimpiest of shorts, swaying from side to side, it was as firm, sexy and juicy as he remembered. He was sure he started drooling a little. And those legs... they always looked so smooth, and even though she was actually only about five-three, somehow, everytime he saw those legs they seemed to go on forever.

It took him a moment to realise she was humming, it sounded like Sex on Fire, Kings of Leon.

Slowly, he lowered his bat, not wanting to make a sound so he could have a few seconds longer of uninterrupted observation.

She straightened and stretched. His eyes immediately darkened and he bit his lip as they moved up to her incredibly full hips and tiny waist, and the indecent amount of the tempting skin exposed by her little tank top.

Even if he would never be caught dead admitting it out loud, the girl had what he considered the perfect figure; full, curvy – much like a coke bottle. He knew that was a bit clichéd, but that was the truth. She didn't have an ounce of fat on her, which was surprising, considering how much she managed to wolf down, but she wasn't a disgusting size zero, either. She was just all curves. She was just perfect. From the tips of her hair, her big hazel eyes, the little button nose to the tips of her little toes.

She was freakin' gorgeous. A wet dream. Perfect.

She had unusual looks, what with her being the offspring of some white guy from New York and a prostitute from Chicago, Donna Christos, who was half African American and half Greek. When asked of her ethnicity, which was often because she was striking, she told everyone she was African American. Then she looked at whoever asked her the question and dared them to ask any more questions. They never did. Yes; she was really sensitive about that. She'd never met her dad, and the only family she was in touch with was from her African American side so she'd only claimed that part of herself. And he only knew all of this because Matt had confided in him some years back. She didn't talk about herself much. Not to him, anyway.

She had the longest, thickest and silkiest hair he'd ever seen – straight, dark brown and all the way down to her waist. Rather than making her look innocent, it made her look like some sort of fallen angel. Not surprising, as there was nothing innocent about Keri. Then there was her skin; from the gorgeous dark tone due her combined origins to the smooth, soft texture... He could run his hands all over it all day if she'd let him but that would be too weird.

Because she hated him. And he hated her.

But it still didn't stop him from wanting to nail her.

She had earphones on, and her little I-pod was tucked in the waistband of her shorts. He hadn't spotted them immediately because they were hidden behind her curtain of brown. Her hair... in his dream, he'd buried his face in it, smelt her coconuty shampoo...

"Matt, can't you ever get some real food in here," he heard her mutter to herself as she closed the fridge in disgust.

Without looking back at the door where he stood, she walked to one of the cupboards where Matt kept all the junk food.

Those cupboards were too high for her. He saw her contemplate jumping up onto the counter like she always did, but for some reason she decided not to. What she wanted seemed to be close enough for her to just stretch a little and reach for it.

He had a flash of déjà vu. One variation of his dream started just like this. Was he still dreaming, then?

Unable to stop his feet, he found himself directly behind her as she struggled to reach for some cookies. Then he found himself leaning into her body, instantly setting his own on fire as he imprisoned her there with his hands on the counter on either side of her.

"What the...!"

He'd startled her. She whirled around quickly to face him, and he almost groaned when she was suddenly nestled so snugly between his thighs. He didn't move back. He couldn't. Not when he was straining against his jeans to be where he wanted to be, not when the only thing keeping him from taking her were the scraps of material on their bodies.

"Jeff," she whispered, pulling the earphones out. "You scared me."

His body was pressed up against hers, so much so he could feel every curve of her body; every single sinful curve, especially the full breasts that had fit perfectly in his palms in one of his dreams. Her face was so close to his, so close he could make out the gold that speckled the deep pool of her hazel eyes. He could feel her warm breath on him and it was driving him crazy, making his blood boil, and making him so hot. He was sure if she made another move, no matter how small, he would disgrace himself on the spot. The heat between her legs was calling to him, only this time it seemed more unbearable than before. He blamed it on the damned dream. It was too soon after indulging in that to actually come into contact with the real thing.

Everything about her drove him crazy.

And the stupid girl had no clue.

The confusion in her beautiful hazel eyes was enough to bring him out of his insanity.

"What are you doing, Nero?" she snapped.

He moved his eyes from her probing ones, and moved his arm to easily reach for the cookies she wanted.

"Keep your fucking noise down. There're people trying to sleep," he growled, thinking on his feet as he put the cookies down on the counter.

"Oh, please! I could have had a party down here and Matt still wouldn't have woken up," she said, pushing him away and turning to the cookies.

Either she hadn't noticed the hard object that had been stabbing her or she didn't give a shit. He was going to go with she hadn't noticed. Surprisingly, though she was no innocent, she could be pretty dim when it came to matters like that. That was a good thing. If Keri had any idea what went through his head about her, she'd have made his life a living hell. Well, more than she already did, anyway.

He pulled a chair out from the breakfast island and sat down to hide the offending object.

"So what you doing here?" he asked.

It was never a good thing when Keri came home.

"Can't I just visit without the twenty questions everytime?" she scowled, walking over to the fridge to pull the milk out.

He couldn't help looking at her body again.

He knew her beauty was only skin deep, but somehow, his body refused to cooperate with his head. Well, his thinking head.

"No," he answered. "What you done this time?"

"Nothing," Keri answered, bringing a glass of milk and her cookies over to sit across from him. "I just came to see how Matt was doing. And I kinda need a break from work."

Matt. Her hero. Of course. Why else would she come? To see him? Of course not.

"Work? You? Last I heard, they didn't exactly call stealing cars 'work'," he sneered.

"One time, Jeff. Will you let that go already?" she snapped.

He grunted. Everything she did was 'just one time'. He would know; he'd had to get her out of trouble too many times to mention.

"Are you in trouble?"

"No," she answered him with a frown.

"Have you run with someone's money again?"


"So what work are you doing?" he asked.

He saw the look that quickly passed in her eyes before she took a bite of her cookie. And he knew straight away that whatever she was doing now was no better than what he'd accused her of. Dealing again? No, she wouldn't be stupid enough to do that after what he'd done to her the last time he'd caught her. Was she still a con artist, then? Or was she back to being just a thief?

Did she have people after her again? Was she in danger?

"What work are you doing?" he asked again, this time roughly.

"Relax. It's nothing bad, nothing that'll get me arrested," she said with an irritated frown at him. "I've decided to mainstream, see what all the fuss about sticking to rules and schedules is about."

He believed her. He didn't know why, but he always knew when she was telling him the truth.

"So how long are you home for?" he asked.

Technically, her house was about ten minutes away, but she'd been a regular visitor at their childhood home - and by regular he meant she'd actually seemed to live with them, preferring that to being with her own family - so when Matt had bought this house, he'd given her, her own room so she could come and go as she pleased.

"Don't know. I'm kinda burnt out. I just have to get myself a bit healthy and then I'll go."

It was only then that he noticed how tired she looked. She had bags under her eyes and she'd lost too much weight. Like she hadn't eaten or slept in a long time.

"You haven't been taking care of yourself again," he stated with a frown.

"It's been hectic. I haven't had time to worry about that," she shrugged.

"So you've come home so Mattie can't take care of you," he said with a disgusted shake of his head. "Typical!"

She always did this, always expected everyone else to bend over backwards for her.

"I can take care of myself," she snapped. "I've just come for the company."

He watched her tuck a strand of her beautiful hair behind her ear as she bit into another cookie. She seemed to have eaten near enough the entire packet.

"If you're trying to get healthy, eating a whole box of cookies isn't going to do it," he said as he snatched them from her.

"I would have eaten something else but there's nothing in the fridge that resembles food," she said as she snatched them back from his hands.

Meaning it was full of fruit and vegetables, and all the healthy shit that was part of Matt's diet. Keri had never learnt to cook. The best she could do in the kitchen was toast or a boiled egg and even that was a stretch.

She was pretty useless.

"Put that away, I'll make you something quick," he sighed.

"I'm pretty tired, don't bother."

"You look like you've been starving yourself. Sit there and wait for your food," he ordered.

He constantly had to bully her into doing things, but he didn't sweat it. He was only looking out for her, even if the bitch didn't appreciate it most of the time. It wasn't as if he liked doing anything for her. He just had to. It was a habit, formed from fifteen years of being forced to watch her back.



He heard no more arguments from her as he set about making breakfast quickly. It wasn't long before he placed two plates on the table loaded with eggs, bacon, beans and toast.


She did so without argument. And surprisingly, she cleaned her plate. He'd thought she wouldn't, since she'd had the cookies only moments before.

For a change, they didn't argue. There was no name calling or insults over their early breakfast. No threats of physical violence. No death threats. He put it down to her being tired. There could be no other reason. They normally couldn't breathe the same air without starting a fully-fledged war. Mainly because Keri was just full of bullshit and he was never afraid to call her on it.

"I'm going to bed. Tell Matt I'm here when he wakes up," she mumbled as she put her plate in the sink and then walked out of the kitchen.

She looked ready to drop on her feet, so much so he felt a little pang of guilt for keeping her up longer than she'd wanted.

But he quickly banished that guilt. It wasn't worth feeling anything for that woman. It was bad enough that he got a boner when he so much as heard her name.

Dumping his own plate in the sink, he grabbed his cigarettes from one of the cupboards and headed out back to sit on the porch and watch the as the sun rose.

Unsurprisingly, his thoughts turned back to Keri. Not counting the few days she had come home for Christmas and New Year about two months ago, it had been six months since they had really seen her. She called Matt often, of course, but he hadn't heard her voice even once. That had made it a bit easier to push her to the back of his mind. Where she belonged.

But now she was here. Under the same roof. With no idea how much he wanted to nail her.

It would only take one little hint of encouragement from her for him to have her flat on her back. He didn't like admitting this, even to himself, but it was true.

No matter how much he loathed her, no matter how much he thought she was a waste of time and space, he'd nail that shit.


Very hard.

Very fast.

Until this crazy feeling was out of his system.

Then he could go back to just hating her without any of the sexual frustrations in the way.

Keri made her way slowly to the impressive room that had been hers since Matt had bought the house, her eyelids getting heavier with each step.

Matt had worked his magic on the room as always. Her clothes were no longer strewn all over the floor and she was willing to bet the king sized bed had all fresh bedding on it. She always told him off for doing this for her but for once she was grateful. She had lived among the worst kind of filth for so long; it was soothing to be back here.

The bed looked so inviting, but there was no way she could sleep with the filth on her. She knew her hair was greasy as fuck and if Jeff had smelt something funky on her earlier, he hadn't said anything.

As quick as she could, she stripped all her clothes off and walked to the adjoining bathroom, longingly looking at the vintage claw-foot tub Matt had installed for her for a moment before stepping into the shower. There would be time enough after she rested for a long soak.

So less than ten minutes later, she was ruffling through her wardrobes for a t-shirt to sleep in. She was looking for some underwear when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She paused, her hands in the drawers as she took her reflection in.

God, she looked like shit! She couldn't even recognise herself. Her cheeks were sunken, she had bags under her eyes and she looked completely pale. She was no beauty anyway, but this look wasn't helping her much.

She dropped the towel that she'd wrapped around her damp body and shook her head sadly at the sorry sight. Skin and bones; that was what she was. She was blessed with a high metabolism anyway, so she'd never had a spare ounce of fat on her body, but this... it was ridiculous. She would have to see a doctor straight away.

Well, at least her breasts looked bigger, she smirked to herself. That had to be a plus.

She looked at her face again and sighed. She had never understood how she had turned out to look the complete opposite of the woman who'd bore her. Even though her mother was a bitch, literally and figuratively, she was still the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. On her bad days, when she was feeling sorry for herself, she always looked in the mirror wondered how the hell things went so wrong with her. She would have thought, with all she'd read and seen about the Greek women, that at least that bloodline would have ensured some sort of attractiveness. But no. She had to be stuck with eyes the colour of mud, a butt the size of Texas, tiny breasts and skin that wasn't light brown like her mum's but some very strange colour she couldn't describe.

Shaking her head, she looked away from the depressing sight and finished dressing.

Then she made her way to the bed and was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

Jeff must have stood there a good ten minutes, just watching her face, trying to figure out what had changed in her.

That had been what had pulled him into her room in the first place. It had hit him just as he'd finished his second cigarette. He normally only had one, since he was trying to quit anyway, but everytime this woman was around she messed him up pretty bad.

But as he'd finished his smoke, he'd realised that something had been really different about Keri. He had noticed it first when he'd sat across her in the kitchen, that glow, that aura around her even though she looked so sickly. She had changed. Something in her had changed. He was itching to know what it was.

They hadn't argued over their meal, could that have been a sign? Was all this tiring animosity coming to an end? He hoped so. He didn't like always being on his toes whenever they were in the same room.

He hadn't always hated her. In fact, he had been so intrigued by her at first, so fascinated. Keri was just so different from everyone he had ever met, and not just because of her looks. She was just really complex, and he'd liked that at first because he liked trying to figure people out. So like the fool he was, he'd gently coaxed her out of her shell. That would probably be the biggest regret he would have until the day he died because by doing that, he had unleashed hell on himself. She'd become a little monster.

She'd started irritating him, pissing him off with every move. And of course trailing along wherever he and the boys went, playing on their trampoline, messing with his bikes, his art, his instruments, everything. Then there was all the trouble she brought to their door. At first, he'd tried telling everyone she didn't actually live there, but they'd kept coming. When she'd been younger, it had been shop keepers, angry neighbours, teachers, the parents of the kids she tortured at the playground. Then she got older and her enemies became more dangerous. Debt collectors, ex-boyfriends, their wives or girlfriends, police, dealers, the lot. Then her constant disappearing and reappearing, causing Matt so much worry.

Matt claimed it was just a cry for help, but he knew better. She was just an attention seeking little bitch.

A little moan escaped her lips and his ear pricked up, his eyes drawn again to her face. Keri was beautiful, there was no denying that. He couldn't pin point when exactly he'd started looking at her different, but sometime after her twentieth birthday her smiles had started to look that much brighter. And all the little movements she'd made had started to look that much sexier. He'd slowly started to become fixated on her. Then now, only four years later, that fixation had turned into a full blown disease. She was too beautiful for his peace of mind.

But he'd never voluntarily compliment her, though. It was just so... unnatural. Words like that, when it came to Keri, just stuck in his throat.

"No..." Keri muttered with a small frown on her face.

He frowned as well, wishing he could just see what was in that head of hers.

She'd been Matt's 'little sister' from the moment they had found her down by the creek when she'd been about ten years old. Matt had been nineteen, he'd been sixteen. Matt had taken the lonely little girl under his wing straight away. He was always doing that, always taking in strays. Purely by association, she had become his 'little sister' too.

That meant he'd always been forced to stick his neck out for her when he never wanted to. But he knew she meant a lot to Matt and if anything ever happened to her, Matt would just die. So he felt like he had no choice.

Just like he felt he had no choice but to look after her now.

Looking at her as she lay there, unguarded; seeing how much weight she had lost and how tired she was, he didn't see any way out of it. Matt would insist she stay until he was sure she was alright. Then maybe they would see the last of her for another few months and he would get some of his sanity back.

With a last look, he walked out of the bedroom. He'd wait until she got up to solve the mystery in his head.

Because something had changed in her. He just hoped it was a good change.

AN/ So run over to the second story (Amazing Grace) and read that. But don't forget to review and let me know what you think. First chapter just an intro with a bit of the background story. After a few more chapters, let me know which of the two you prefer. I might concentrate on that one more.