'Ughhhhhh…'
It was midday as the Canadian beauty strode down the carpeted hotel hallway. Evelyn Levesque was dressed in sexualized version of her normal sleepware: a lacy set of lingerie hugged her curves, half-hidden beneath a white dress shirt left mostly unbuttoned, dangling carelessly over her voluptuous figure. Of course, she hadn’t dared walk through the hotel entrance dressed like this. No, Evelyn had ducked into a bathroom stall earlier, slipped into this enticing ensemble, and stashed her day clothes beneath a couch in the lobby like a naughty little secret.
The whole situation left her fuming. This was supposed to be fun skirmirsh, a clash with a gorgeous, college-aged brunette rookie, the kind of match Evelyn could dominate and make her opponent into nothing more than your comon whore. Instead, she’d been saddled with him: Clyde Gastin, a former multi-time world champion, a man dripping with accolades she neither respected nor wanted to face in this intimate setting. Ew. Evelyn wasn’t even sure how she’d ended up here. She was still a rookie herself, barely making waves in LAW. Was she some kind of consolation prize, offered up as entertainment for the veteran? Eveyln doubted this, but the very thought made her blood boil.
Reaching the door, Evelyn retrieved the key card from her breast pocket, sliding it into the lock with a practiced flick of her wrist. The light blinked green, and she pushed her way in with a practiced smile stretched across her lips. It was sweet, polished, and utterly fake.
“Why, hello there, Clyde!” the bride to be sang with feigned warmth as she stepped inside. The entryway opened into a narrow hallway leading deeper into the five-star suite. Clyde wasn’t immediately visible, so Evelyn assumed he was lounging in the bedroom like some smug king awaiting his entertainment. She let her voice carry down the hall as she moved forward, her platinum blonde hair swaying with each confident step.
“Sorry I’m a little late! Had to find a place to stash my clothes. You’d think a hotel like this would have a locker room or something, right?”
Finally, she entered the hotel room proper, her icy blue eyes sweeping across the lavish furnishings before settling on her opponent. The great Clyde Gastin. To her mild surprise, he wasn’t towering over her. If anything, he was close to her size, prehaps even a touch smaller. His dirty blonde hair was tousled in that intentionally careless way, and his toned muscles caught the light, shamelessly on display. His attire was that of...
Wait a second…
Evelyn blinked, tilting her head in disbelief.
“Wait. Are you seriously wearing your wrestling tights right now?” she asked, her voice dripping with incredulity.
“I know this is technically a wrestling match, but you do know we are in a bedroom, right? Please tell me you are planning to change into something more appropriate.”
Her syrupy sweetness cracked, giving way to an edge of irritation as she crossed her arms beneath her chest. The tag-team upstart gone solo tapped her bare foot impatiently against the plush carpet, her gaze sharp and expectant as she waited for Clyde to explain himself.
