I’ve been in every sort of match you can think of – cage matches, strap matches, ladder matches – but nothing has been more dangerous than Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve, but nothing has been more satisfying.

Parking the car in the driveway, I take the bags out of the trunk and enter the house my husband, Adam, our ten-month-old son Logan and I share. It’s our first Christmas with Logan and damned if it wasn’t going to be the biggest one ever.

Removing my jacket – we’d been having a chilly week here in Miami - I look out from the foyer to see the living room where we were hosting our Christmas party was all decorated and can’t believe Adam has done all this while I was out.

The front room was decorated perfectly with tinsel streamers and various sized hanging decorations not to mention the different platters of candy strewn about and of course the large Christmas tree already overflowing with presents sent to us from the family and friends who couldn’t make the trip here this year. It was almost like I’d come home to a Martha Stewart photo session.

My attention is distracted when the kitchen door swings open and I see Adam walk out, wearing a hockey jersey and jeans, with our son, dressed in a little Santa suit, in his arm, and a look of confusion on his face as though he’s not certain that he’s remembered everything.

Still in the foyer, I watch him as he tries to keep Logan from chewing on his long blonde hair, which was pulled back, but some stray strands have found their way loose and were on the way to finding their way to our son’s mouth. Logan was the son of my cousin Delia who was dying of AIDS given to her by her abusive jerk of a boyfriend. A year ago, she approached Adam and I about adopting her baby once she had it, wanting to keep the baby in the family and in her words, thinking it was time I had some ‘responsibility’ in my life and quit acting like a ‘player’.

But while I was keen on the idea, Adam was not. Though I guess I couldn’t blame him after what he’d been through no thanks to his father – though he stopped calling him his father a long time ago – Hunter Hearst Helmsley and his grandfather, I knew we’d make great parents for Logan. Convincing Adam of the same thing though wasn’t easy.

"Logan!" He laughs pulling his hair away. "Here," he breaks off a piece of a cookie and gives it to our son, who grasps it in his tiny hand. "Now leave daddy’s hair alone."

I try not to let him know I’m there by laughing, loving how he interacts with him.

At first I tried the "wouldn’t it be great" line of getting him to go along with it, but he still had the fear of being like Hunter in him. It wasn’t until Delia called, telling us she was in labor and after she had the baby, that Adam considered giving it a shot, especially after he and Logan – who wasn’t named yet – laid eyes on each other through the nursery glass. Now they were practically inseparable, with Adam waking in the middle of the night to do the feedings and the changing and the baths. Sometimes I would just wake in the middle of the night and watch him rock our son through whatever ‘crisis’ he would have and sing to him, usually too low for anyone but Logan to hear.

I smile as he looks over and smiles at me, his green eyes shining brighter than any Christmas light I’ve seen. "Hi." He says.

"Hi." I gather the bags and bring them into the front room.

"Please tell me they’re not all for him." He walks into the front room and gapes at the bags.

"Couldn’t help myself. They’ve got a lot of cute stuff out there for babies."

"Jeeze Dwayne, between what I got him, Matt and Shane, Mick and Collette, your folks, Stephanie and Chris and what some of the guys and girls got him, he won’t be needing anymore toys until he goes to college."

"Yeah, but think how popular he’ll be until then." I crack before going over and kissing him. "Don’t worry I got you something too."

"What?"

"I’m not telling you." I laugh, taking our son who is still gnawing away on the piece of cookie.

He sighs before looking around. "Think it looks okay? The room I mean."

"It looks great. Don’t worry about a thing."

"I know it’s just with it being Logan’s first Christmas with us I just want things to be perfect."

"They are." I assure him. "They already are."

Four hours later, the gathering was in full swing with most everyone showing up. In the past five or so years we’d been married, Adam and I have often switched and gone to everyone else’s house. One year we went to Mick and Collette's, another year we went to Matt and Shane’s, another year we went to Stephanie and Chris’s, and another…well you get the point.

But this year we decided the best place to show our young son off was here in Miami.

I’m sitting across the room from Adam, now wearing a green satin shirt and red leather pants and has our son in his arms again, this time showing him off to Mark Calloway and his wife Sara, who brought their little one and Mark’s two kids from his first marriage.

It’s weird sitting here and watching Adam. Not because there’s anything wrong with it, but I’ve always thought I’d be a bachelor for the rest of my life. That nothing would tie me down. That I’d always want plenty of guys and/or girls and not be serious about anything, figuring a commitment wasn’t worth all the drama, let alone the feeling of restriction when you throw a child into the mix.

But now, instead of feeling tied down, Adam and Logan has made me feel free.

God how long has it been since I first met him? About ten years? He’d come into the WWF with his ex-husband Matt and their brother Jeff. And damned if I knew what it was but he just affected me off the bat. Whether it was his long blonde hair, those bright green eyes or a grin that could be warm and inviting one minute and demonic the next, or the body that wouldn’t quit, but I just flipped for him. The only thing that was keeping me from hitting on him the way I used to hit on all the newcomers was the ring on his finger. As much as I was infatuated with him, I had respect for marriage, knowing if anyone tried to take him from me I’d lay such a Smackdown on their roody poo candy – sorry, lost myself there for a minute.

Anyways, we still hung out and the more I got to know him, the more I wanted to protect him, especially when it came out about what that sick fuck Hunter had done to him and Matt, but what made me the angriest was when I learned what Hunter, Pat and Gerald had done to Adam. And to think he blamed himself for what happened when I went into the room to comfort him. He’s still in therapy now, but not as intensive as it had been before and he still had nightmares though not the screaming night terrors he used to have, thank God.

Many a night I’ve woken up to find him away from our bed and next to Logan’s crib watching him sleep, the worry and fear of being like Hunter etched in his face.

But none of that was there now. No, what was there was genuine joy over being a father and knowing he was loved, a feeling I hope he always had.

And if anyone asked me what I wanted for Christmas, that would be what I’d want.

Adam exhaled as he entered the bedroom, flopping on the bed next to me.

"Get him settled down?" I ask, setting aside the book I was reading.

"Finally. You know I feel sorry for Matt and Shane though."

"Why’s that?" God he looked so good wearing just the green satin pajama bottoms I bought him for his birthday.

"Well everyone’s asking them when they’re going to have kids of their own. Though I don’t know with Shane trying to get WCW going again, I’m surprised they have time for each other." He snuggled close to me as I lay on my side facing him. "But then again, I kinda feel sorry for them in the fact that they don’t have this to look forward to."

"What’s this?"

"What we’ll have with Logan." He looked at me. "The chance to experience the little things – his first steps, his first words, his first tooth…"

"If I remember correctly you weren’t looking forward to anything to do with him."

He shrugs. "So I was wrong and "The Rock" was right, but if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll divorce your ass."

I laugh as I turn over and pick up the little box I snuck in. "Here." I say handing it to him.

He gives me a funny look before opening it. When he does he breaks out laughing. "Tell me you didn’t have this in with Logan’s stuff."

"Hey even daddies need toys too." I take the bottle from his hand. "Wanna give it a shot?"

"Sure." He reaches for it but I pull it away from him.

"Let me. You’ve done enough today."

He shrugs before turning over onto his stomach. I get up and straddle his hips as I unscrew the top to the cinnamon scented body oil I found at a designer bath shop. I dribble a little onto my hand and rub them together before applying it to his skin, which warms under my touch.

"Mmm…" he says, moving his hair to one side. "Smells nice."

I rub it into his skin before I lean down and inhale the scent and nip him on the neck causing him to tremble a little. "You’re right." I whisper. "It does smell nice."

I sit back up and continue to massage the oil onto his skin, moving my hands lower and lower until I get to the top of his waistband. I then let my hands slide around his waist to sink into his pajamas. He’s purring by this point and the sound of it is making me harder than you can imagine. I lean down and breathe in his ear. "Do you want me in you?"

"Yes." He whispers before kissing me.

We break the kiss and I move my hands to slide his bottoms off, showing me the firmness of his ass and to me the most perfect legs I’ve ever seen on a man. I slide mine off and gently lift Adam up to me so his ass is touching my erection, which is getting harder by the second. I don’t know what it is but the feel of him, even when he holds my hand, makes me crazy.

I then take the oil and, dripping a couple of drops onto my fingers, I slide them into Adam who gasps with pleasure. I work them in and out slowly chuckling softly as he tries moving against the fingers. Sliding them out, I use them to lube me up before I slide myself into him.

"Oh God," he gasps, the ragged breathing the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

Grabbing his hips gently, I slowly move in and out of him, fighting the urge to go faster wanting nothing more than to savor the feel of him around me. I then reach around him and begin playing with his erection, teasing it a little by stroking just the tip, which is slick with his pre-cum.

By now he was lucky if he could complete a rational thought as I decided to pull him up to me, his back against my chest, allowing me to stroke him fully. He tossed his head back and the feel of his silky, still damp hair against my fevered skin sending chills through me.

We were like that for a long time until I felt him tremble against me, which started a chain reaction of my own as we came at the same time trying to keep it down so we wouldn’t wake our son, but not having much luck. I slid out of him yet hold him close to me as we try and get our breaths back.

We hear a little chime and look at the bedside clock.

Midnight.

Christmas day.

I look at my husband, his skin still flushed and hair a little disheveled and his eyes still glazed over and whisper. "Merry Christmas Baby."

He chuckles. "Merry Christmas to you too." We kiss before getting back into bed, throwing the cover over us, I hold Adam to me as he rests his head on my chest. Watching him sleep, I stare up at the ceiling and think about how lucky I am. Not only do I have a great career, but a wonderful husband and a child I love.

Merry Christmas indeed.