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Description
Update Notes: This is new take where I fixed Roberta's look to give continuity to the rest. I cleaned up the first paragraph of the story too.

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Sitting together on a very comfortable leather sofa in one of the mansion's many chill rooms, Roberta and Angelus gazed starry eyed at one another. A print of Botticelli's Venus, hanging on the wall behind them, seemed perfectly chosen for the moment, or so Roberta thought. She tried snuggling closer to her boyfriend. His leg kept her at a distance. She couldn't tell if he was being stand-offish on purpose or oblivious. She preferred to think the latter.

"Baby, I gotta talk to Frankie before my match," Angelus said. Frankie was Angelus' tag partner although they weren't teaming up today. "It won't take long," he added. His eyes casually drifted to Roberta's ample bosom that was nestled inside a dark blue turtleneck. Resisting the urge to reach under it and cop a feel, he regretted having to leave for less pleasurable business. "Be a sweet heart and meet me at the ring." He didn't want Roberta to know that he owed Frankie four grand, much less that he was late and still short about two grand. Most of the money had gone toward their recent weekend at the casinos in Jersey. He didn't want to her to feel bad about that or that he couldn't have afforded it without some help. He felt confident that Frankie would cut him some slack.

"Sure thing, Angelicious" Roberta cooed, calling him by one of her many pet names. "I have to use the ladies room bad anyway." She felt satisfied that her excuse was honest. She preferred it that Angelus didn't want her at his side because Frankie always left her feeling uncomfortable. He was outwardly polite the few times she had met him. He gave her the creeps because he left her feeling as if his roving eyes were undressing her. Her intuition was right. That act of discernment was less a testimony to her perception and more an obvious assessment of Frankie's blithe ogling. At heart Roberta didn't mind attention to her body so long as she appreciated the face and body of the eyes doing the staring. Angelus more than qualified, while Frankie, in her estimation, did not. It wasn't even his appearance so much as something simply not quite right him that bothered her when he checked her out. Maybe it was the dirty look that she thought she saw in his eyes. She had never confessed her dislike of Frankie since Angelus seemed to maintain a strictly professional relationship with him. They met at the gym and in the ring. They didn't even travel together. Whatever reason Angelus had for meeting with him, she was sure that it was something about wrestling.

* * *

The story continues here Trophied, Part 2 .

Description
Update Notes: This is new take where I fixed Roberta's look to give continuity to the rest. I cleaned up the first paragraph of the story too.

* * *

Sitting together on a very comfortable leather sofa in one of the mansion's many chill rooms, Roberta and Angelus gazed starry eyed at one another. A print of Botticelli's Venus, hanging on the wall behind them, seemed perfectly chosen for the moment, or so Roberta thought. She tried snuggling closer to her boyfriend. His leg kept her at a distance. She couldn't tell if he was being stand-offish on purpose or oblivious. She preferred to think the latter.

"Baby, I gotta talk to Frankie before my match," Angelus said. Frankie was Angelus' tag partner although they weren't teaming up today. "It won't take long," he added. His eyes casually drifted to Roberta's ample bosom that was nestled inside a dark blue turtleneck. Resisting the urge to reach under it and cop a feel, he regretted having to leave for less pleasurable business. "Be a sweet heart and meet me at the ring." He didn't want Roberta to know that he owed Frankie four grand, much less that he was late and still short about two grand. Most of the money had gone toward their recent weekend at the casinos in Jersey. He didn't want to her to feel bad about that or that he couldn't have afforded it without some help. He felt confident that Frankie would cut him some slack.

"Sure thing, Angelicious" Roberta cooed, calling him by one of her many pet names. "I have to use the ladies room bad anyway." She felt satisfied that her excuse was honest. She preferred it that Angelus didn't want her at his side because Frankie always left her feeling uncomfortable. He was outwardly polite the few times she had met him. He gave her the creeps because he left her feeling as if his roving eyes were undressing her. Her intuition was right. That act of discernment was less a testimony to her perception and more an obvious assessment of Frankie's blithe ogling. At heart Roberta didn't mind attention to her body so long as she appreciated the face and body of the eyes doing the staring. Angelus more than qualified, while Frankie, in her estimation, did not. It wasn't even his appearance so much as something simply not quite right him that bothered her when he checked her out. Maybe it was the dirty look that she thought she saw in his eyes. She had never confessed her dislike of Frankie since Angelus seemed to maintain a strictly professional relationship with him. They met at the gym and in the ring. They didn't even travel together. Whatever reason Angelus had for meeting with him, she was sure that it was something about wrestling.

* * *

The story continues here Trophied, Part 2 .