Chris-Crossed

A/N: And here, for all my fans, is the second and last part to 'Chris-Crossed', hotter and better than the first. Enjoy ;) I know I did, every second writing it... Oh, I forgot a disclaimer in the first part, I suppose I shouldn't have, but it wouldn't be 'fiction' or 'fan fiction' if we actually owned any of it, right? Though Chris Jericho, I wish I *did* own, even for a day...

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The next time Kyra opened her eyes, two thoughts struck her simultaneously- one, the room was still dark with the haze of late night (lit only by a small desk lamp), and two, she was draped across a strong, warm male body that shouldn't have been in bed with her. It took her a sleepy moment to remember Chris's massage and realize where she was and that she must've passed out.

Which in no way explained why he'd just slipped beside her/under her to curl up instead of waking her up or leaving her. Surely there was someplace else more important/comfortable for him to be if he'd wanted to? The thought left her slightly warmed inside and her cheeks flushed.

They were both fully clothed of course- only her flowing, Mexican style skirt had ridden up to about mid-thigh while her off-the-shoulder embroidered peasant top had scrunched both up and down respectively. With Chris's shirt having fallen open in addition to it all, it left her head nestled in the curve of one broad shoulder, her cheek pressed against smooth, bare skin, and herself in total disarray.

A very cozy picture if you didn't factor in that she was basically a glorified secretary/personal assistant and he was a star co-worker who had just been playing nice. Which left it somewhat awkward for her as well and doubts/insecurities were welling up in her slowly wakening mind.

But in that still drowsy moment, and with him yet asleep, Kyra savored the feel of his body against hers, the way her hand lightly rested on the chiseled planes of his golden chest, the way her leg fit so snugly to his, the other hiked up across his thighs. Shocking image or not. She could almost pretend it meant something more. She'd never made it through the night with any of her former boyfriends either, so had never experienced anything to rival this indolent, sated feeling that deterred her from fully awakening.

She stretched a bit, hand curling over his chest, the thick fans of sooty lashes falling back on snowy skin as she surrendered to the moment and the delicious newness of the experience sleepily, logic playing no part. Kyra wanted to languish in that dreamy state, just delighting in the heat and strength of the man against her. Her fantasy. His chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths, his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath her cheek, and right then she didn't want to question her right to be there and why he was there with her.

He'd wrapped an arm around her shoulder and his hand rested just above her breast. No, she definitely wasn't entirely awake yet because that site only made her smile. "Morning." His sleep roughened voice jolted the quiet. His arm tightened around her [almost as if sensing she'd been about to move away], pulling her impossibly closer as he breathed in, seeming to take in her scent. And Kyra glanced up, into Chris's handsome face, realizing that not even slumber dimmed this man's star quality.

"Morning," she said softly, hesitantly, in reply, almost an after-thought. There was something about his heavy-lidded expression that accentuated the way her breasts [thinly clothed] were currently brushing his bare chest, the way she seemed to fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder. The way that problematic skirt left her thigh bared, molded her skin when she was lying down.

And, unfortunately, re-arranging her skirt now would only let him know that she noticed. Instead, shaking her head almost indiscernibly, she made a move (viably this time) to get up and found herself thwarted again when he propped his chin on top of her head to stop her. "Don't go," he said, "I like lying here with you." This followed up by a slightly roguish grin.

The redhead made a soft, helpless, noise in the back of her throat a few beats before a sound of frustration that that also part panicked fear and desperation, shifting. "You know, if someone else had come here looking for Bischoff late after the show too..." she trailed, dragging her full bottom lip between her teeth again, looking up as if to prevail on any sense of decorum he might have.

Chris laughed softly, "Just one, Lita, and I redirected her. She knocked first, knowing Bischoff and his moods," he added, noticing her expression, "so I caught the door in time." She huffed slightly at his laugh, twisting to levy herself up a bit, but couldn't help a tiny smile as well (which he likely saw, considering his own look, though her response to him and her confusion about his plans/thoughts incited a fresh wave of anxiety.

"You promised to be a gentleman." Her voice came out a bit breathy, her nature teasing, seeing the spark of desire flare in his eyes.

"I have been, believe me," he responded in kind, with thick, sensuous tones, amusement at this play clear with the desire in his darkened eyes. The statement was so rich in implication and inherent wickedness that she slid her knee down his thighs, deciding she didn't need proof.

The fact of that, on top of everything else, had her heart pounding at a thunderous pace so loud she was surprised he didn't hear and comment, and she almost shook with the rush of wanting that flooded her, finding it near impossible to hide it/master it and continue this act of flirty nonchalance. "No one to blame but yourself. I just signed on for a massage," she replied, trying for breezy and wryly amused, as was her specialty, but not pulling it off with her flushed skin, sparkling eyes, and temptuous smile.

"Maybe this was part of my relaxation therapy," Chris came back with what sounded suspiciously like a purr, all flirt and wit, enjoyment plain.

"What relaxation therapy? I agreed to a massaged. You put me in a coma," Kyra started flippantly and in control but ending more with a pout that wasn't entirely faked. Three years, now close to four, working wrestling superstars she'd admired endlessly (most of which she'd gotten experience turning aside flirtations from), and he was the only one who still affected her so. She couldn't as easily put away this attraction for him or call back the friendly but coolly professional persona she'd perfected here and end it cleanly, and his focused attentions were making her head spin, overloading her system and frying her logic as her body behaved without control.

Before she could register what was happening, flipped over, used his powerful body to press her into the cushions. She rolled with him (having no choice of course), and stretched full-length beneath him, his long legs bracketing hers and holding her tight. Whipcord arms came around her and he levered himself up, staring into her eyes, the position pinning her hips beneath him (causing her to squeak) and drawing attention to the steely length of erection that supported his earlier [however teasing] claim of gentlemanly behavior.

Her eyes were shockingly wide at this point and his were dancing, an almost predatory smile upon his sensual lips. "Chris!" His name slid out in a gasp, though Kyra wasn't sure what to say because her senses were overwhelmed with the feel of him against her.

He continued to smile, his star quality on high beam until he nearly blinded her, the spark in his eyes positively devilish. Hungry. "Let me kiss you. I promise to be a gentleman and stop when you tell me to." Stop? The man had her surrounded. He blocked out the whole world with his body, awakened all those achy places he'd aroused previously with his magic hands. "Just one kiss, Kyra, to see if you like it." His voice was whisper soft, his breath hot on her lips. And then he lowered his head further towards her with exquisite slowness, slowing her a seconds' chance to retreat or to savor what was about to come. Decision by indecision.

Whether this ended up just a game or not, the instant their lips met, Kyra knew this would be no kiss as she'd ever experienced one. Chris seemed to explode with emotion. His muscles gathered against hers, he tucked her into all those sculpted planes of his body, and enfolded her in a layer of hard, aroused male. Perhaps it was her state of semi-consciousness or perhaps it was just *him*, but she'd never felt the way she felt now. Not quite awake, but very, very aware, her every sense heightened, focused on this man in a way only consciousness could allow.

The steady beat of his heart, the feel of his muscles draped luxuriously over her. Her every breath became his as his mouth prowled hers hungrily, coaxing her lips wide, thrusting his tongue inside, devouring, demanding a reply. Bursts of electrical *feeling* that sparked a thought that in her three and three-quarter years of working here, noticing him, maybe he'd noticed her too. That maybe if she'd dropped her mask of friendly, cool professionalism for him a little sooner... And she replied with the with the only answer that made any sense. Curling her arms around his neck, she kissed him back.

He tasted of appreciation and boldness and she threaded her fingers into his hair, unable to entertain thoughts of resistance, or common sense, or conscience. At this point, with nothing but the night and a few pieces of clothing between them, with their mouths exploring and their hands discovering and their bodies pressed close, Chris Jericho was much more than a co-worker of sorts, and acquaintance or star. He was the only man who'd ever made her feel like this before.

He traced her lips with his and then trailed along the curve of her jaw, feather-light kisses he must have known she'd welcome because she lifted her chin to offer her throat. Kyra wove her fingers tighter into his hair, clenching and unclenching, not hindering but not really encouraging, just leaving him to make his way where he chose. He chose to wedge himself between her thighs so only soft cotton separated them. He chose to prove that he wasn't the only one wanting here (not that he needed to!) by stroking that hot length against her and making her ride him to feed the growing ache inside.

To a woman who'd never quite fit in, this was such a singular sensation. She felt right- as if finally, *finally* all the pieces fit together and she was exactly where she was supposed to be. No naively blind romantic notions, just for now...... It *did* fit. And Chris must have understood the power he wielded over her, because he kissed his way down the length of her neck. He licked the fluttering pulse-beat below her jaw. He explored every sensitive inch of skin between her ear and shoulder, and he kept trailing his mouth down.

Kyra recognized that another opportunity to stop him was approaching as he nibbled his way along her shoulder, and down her bare arm- hot, moist kisses that sent goose bumps spraying over her skin, fed that ache between her legs even more- but even if she could've found the word 'no' someplace deep inside, she wouldn't have spoken it aloud. She didn't want to stop Chris from his sexy exploration, didn't want to do anything but hold her breath as he skimmed those light kisses along her ribs- whatever his reason for holding off his seduction until now.

'I wonder if Lita, Tory, or one of the other girls finally/actually broke down and told him how I wanted him,' she thought foggily. 'They were the only ones who knew... I think... and they *had* been bursting to say something or set something up, chastising me for holding back...' But Kyra didn't want to think of that now. She wanted nothing more than to savor this anticipation of wondering where he would nibble next...

Darting his tongue over a nipple, Chris dragged at the cotton material with that delicious stroke, fired heat right through her top, and the strapless bra below. She gasped, a sound lost somewhere in his hair, but he must've heard because suddenly he was molding her breasts through the fabric, cupping their weight in his hands as if he'd waited forever to touch her. Kyra *had* waited forever. She'd never felt such a powerful longing, had never known her breasts to be such a touchstone for every nerve ending inside her. Then, she'd never really been able to lie still and relax long enough to find out. But as Chris flicked this thumb across her nipples, drawing them to peaks through the thin cotton, she knew a need that made her shake.

Suddenly, he rolled off her to lie on his side, propped up on an elbow; for a breathless moment all she registered was the absence of his body, the cool emptiness where his erection had pressed so enticingly against her. But when he leaned over her, the redhead understood. He never slowed his trail of hot kisses as he pushed up her shirt to make way for his mouth on her skin. Here was another opportunity to say no. She arched into his touch instead. And he obliged her by freeing her from the tangle of cloth, baring her to his view. Her nipples puckered, but it was the expression on Chris's face and the sound of his throaty growl that pleased her most of all.

She'd always thought her breasts were a waste as they were just big enough to make shopping for anything but separates a chore. True, she'd never be mistaken for a boy as her friend Lisa complained of, but given that she could never lie still enough to let a man appreciate them, Kyra never saw the point. But finally her breasts seemed to be serving a purpose other than to make her clothing hand awkwardly. Chris skimmed his hand across both peaks them caught a hard tip between his thumb and forefinger.

She gasped. He met her gaze and smiled, then lowered his face to lavish the very same attention with his mouth. He explored with his tongue. He nibbled with his teeth. He sucked her deep inside his mouth until she squirmed. And then his other hand broke free to trail down her flat stomach, down, down... he brushed up her long crinkle skirt, and his strong fingers zeroed in on that sensitive bundle between her thighs. Here, again, was the perfect opportunity to say no. But with the pressure of his thumb right *there*, the only sound to slip from her lips was a moan.

Closing her eyes, she abandoned herself to the feeling... And she needed him to keep touching her, wanted to tell him how important it was that he didn't stop working this magic with his mouth and hands. So she simply pressed her breast o his mouth, silently encouraging him, wanting him to feed this feeling inside her more than she wanted anything else. She wanted to experience *real* pleasure. She wanted to know what it felt like to want. And right now she did.

It didn't matter that she was so aroused disaster should've struck. Or that she should feel to nerved out and antsy to lie still, to experience this. Or that the alarm in her head should be shrieking. Right now she felt drowsy and excited and good. Hands massaging, lips moving over her, and that steely hardness pressed against her, rubbing. And then Kyra came apart, just burst inside, a swell of blinding sensation that had sneaked up on her, dragging a breathless moan from her lips, a moan that sounded just like a sob. A *real* orgasm. Her first.

Chris propped himself up on an elbow again, his smile telling her how much he enjoyed the site of her, nearly naked and spread beneath him as he watched her come back to earth. And while she struggled to catch her breath, she took in the satisfaction on his face, the dark, heavy-lidded eyes. The chiseled features that had softened around the edges. "I promised you a kiss to see if you liked it," he finally sad, his voice a husky whisper between them, a roguish grin crossing his sensual lips once more. "Did you?"

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A/N: Well fans? What did you think? Did you like the kiss? ;) If you did, don't worry, though this is the last chapter to this work, I *will* be doing a sequel, I already got part of it written so it shouldn't be too far behind. Just don't forget to review and let me know about it, k?

Later,

Phoenix