They say, "Behind every great man stands a great woman". But behind the Universal Champion and the Tribal Chief is a different breed of woman, a force of nature capable of bringing even the Head of the Table to his knees...and vice versa. Tribal Chi...
"What do you mean you're still working on it?" you barked into your iPhone, an incredulous expression on your face. "Do you know what time it is? We are almost at the arena. You and I are gonna have serious problems if we get there and it's not exactly as specified. I will make sure Roman pulls out of tonight's show." Acutely aware of the big hand drifting up your bare thigh and the lips latched to the side of your neck, you rolled your eyes at the sniveling voice at the other end of the line. "We discussed this, Heyman. Get it done. And don't call me back until you do." Cutting off the call, you tossed your phone and refocused on the huge man wrapped around your body. "God, I sound like a broken fucking record with him."
Roman chuckled. "You're gonna get in trouble with that smart-ass mouth of yours," he said.
"You like my smart mouth," you pointed out, caressing the top of his head. "Seriously though, why did you choose him? He's losing his shine."
Grabbing your ass and tugging you closer so that you sat directly on his crotch, Roman was more concerned with making out with your neck. "Relax, baby. He'll handle it," he murmured.
"This isn't the first time he's doing this though. I ask him to do something, and he goes and fucks it up." You paused mid-sentence, sighing blissfully when his tongue swiped across your throat, his beard tickling your skin. "It's almost like he's trying me, babe. I don't like that."
"He knows better than to disrespect you," he answered, burying his face in the ample softness of your cleavage. "You smell so good, baby girl..."
Giggling, you curled your arms around his neck and kissed his lips, basking in the attention he lavished on you. His big, strong arms were your safe place. "It's that fragrance you bought me for our anniversary," you replied. You continued to kiss him, and frowned as you felt the bus start to slow down. Looking out the bedside window, you both groaned upon seeing that you were pulling into the arena. "Ugh, We're here." With a tired sigh, you climbed off his lap and adjusted your lace bra. "Come on, get up. We gotta go."
Roman made no move to leave the bed, choosing instead to watch you wear your dress. The glint of the rings on your finger bounced off the sunlight peeking through the blinds. His dark eyes scanned your shapely body, landing on that round, juicy ass of yours. You were the definition of bad, in all the good ways. "I like those gold heels you wore last week," he told you.
"The strappy ones?"
"Mm-hmm. You looked real sexy in them, baby. Wear 'em again for the Chief."
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The heat never failed to bloom in your loins whenever he talked like that, which was all the time. "Whatever the Chief wants, the Chief gets."
"That's my girl."
Stepping off the tour bus and strolling into the Amway Center, with you on his arm and his Universal Title slung over his other shoulder, Roman Reigns looked like a million dollars, turning heads everywhere he went. And if you had your way, it would stay that way for a long time. What Stephanie did with Hunter's career would be a mere footnote in wrestling history compared to the plans you had for Roman Reigns; the Tribal Chief, the Universal Champion - your husband.
