A/N: Hey guys! I want to say thanks to everyone who has reviewed or Pmed me about which story to start with The Pain Of Snow White is done. I'll let y'all know which one won on my next update for TPOSW. That being said, I won't be updating it just yet. I am re-working a story into a three part series. It seems to call for it to be a bit longer, and a series seemed to fit. Also, so of you may recognize this as the number one summery from my little poll. It is. I had this written for sometime and was going to turn it into a full fledged story, but this long one shot seemed to word out so well that I left it as it was and posted it. So, I guess y'all know that one isn't the winner to my poll. Anyway, as all ways enjoy and I will post an update for TPOSW later this week.

Second A/N: Oh, Before I forget, I based this off the Zac Brown Band song Sweet Annie. I am to afraid to try to make this a true songfic. So, I placed the lyrics to the song at the very in and placed song in the fic. If You ain't heard the song, it's on YouTube and believe me, It's good.

Sweet Annie

Rating: Mature (there is sex people!)

The life of a WWE Superstar was completely hectic, chaotic, and every wonderful thing his wildest fantasies were made of. Besides him living his dream of becoming a top professional wrestler in the top wrestling company, he had everything he wanted. There was enough money to live an amazing lifestyle that he always had thought was out of his reach as a poor delinquent youth on the streets of Cincinnati. Some of the most beautiful women he had ever set his eyes on were warming his bed and body when ever the mood struck him, which was often. And, finally, the free booze given to him by fans was free flowing so that he could continue to drown in his fantasy life.

But, what no one knew, not even his closest friends, was that the so called Lunatic Fringe Dean Ambrose held a secret life, one that he often mentally called reality. Hidden away from anyone with prying eyes, was a life that he had always felt was far above him.

As he eased his rental car around the winding roads of the mountains of East Tennessee, he could feel the life of the road, his in-ring persona along with the image he projected outside the ring to those around him, fade away to the background and the real Dean, the one only one other person had ever known. The boozer, the womanizer, the Lunatic Fringe alpha male slid away to a long forgotten place within himself. And, he was at complete peace with that.

He turned off onto a dirt and gravel path as he fully came out of the mask others witnessed. In it's place came the person his friends and fans would never recongize. Here, deep in the isolated tress and mountains, he was truly free to be a man he really was. Here, he was a father, a lover, and all those things his image would despise.

The path opened to a wide wild flower field with a simple log cabin nestled within the colorful blooms. And old rusty truck was parked to the side of the cabin with a child's swing set just past the vehicle.

Easing his rental up behind the tail gate of the truck, he turned the car off and took a moment to enjoy his reality, as he called it. The sun was just setting behind the mountains, striking the sky with yellows, reds, and oranges. The trees swayed with a gentle breeze, taking along the clean smell of the wild flowers.

He had often stated that his home in the Nevada desert was paradise with it's hot sun and vast sands. But, he lied. Here, this place, so separated from the wrestling life, was true paradise.

"Daddy," a little voice called.

Turning, he watched a his three year old son launched himself off the front porch and raced full speed toward him. Dean smirked at how sweet the small boy looked. Crisp dishwater blonde curls flopping around his beaming face as his short little legs struggled to maintain their speed.

Suddenly, with a lurch, his son's legs tangled around themselves, and the boy tumbled to the large rocks that were used as a walk way. His son gave a high pitched cry before rolling over to his back an grabbing at his scrapped knees.

Afraid that he had seriously hurt himself, Dean scrambled out of the car and made the few feet to his wailing child. He quickly scooped the destressed child into his arms, curling the small body into his chest in an attempt to console the boy's tears.

"Shh," he soothed.

"It hurt, Daddy," his son hick-upped.

Cupping the boys cheek, he wiped at the tears as he met his son's eyes, the same shade as his own.

"I know, but it's okay." He tucked the child closer to him. "Daddy's here."

"Is Jake okay?"

The sound of her soft voice washed over him in a calming wave. Turning his attention to her, he sucked in a breath at her beauty.

He only ever visited three or four times a year, in an attempt to keep this life from the other, but every time he saw her, it seemed she became more beautiful.

She was standing just outside the open front door. Her dark brown hair was shorter than when he had last visited and curled around her shoulders in a halo that enhanced her classic beauty. Her peaches and cream complexion was highlighted by her pink lips and pale brown eyes, which were framed by the longest lashes he had ever seen. Dressed in simple jeans and green tank top, he admired her body. When he had first met her, she had been a lean sixteen year old with the slight curves the nineteen year old him had found sexually appealing. Now, ten years later and a child, her hips were full, and her breasts could over fill his hands.

Shaking his head to clear his head from where his thoughts were going, he shifted Jake on his hip and walked up to her.

"He's okay," Dean told her before leaning forward and giving her a gentle kiss on her lips.

He suppressed a moan at her familiar taste. No matter how many women he has kissed, none compare to the woman whose lips shivered his spine.

Stepping back before the kiss got to deep for his three year old to witness, he placed his free hand on her hip, enjoying the feel of her curves under his hand.

"I'm home, Annie," he said with a smirk.

She gave him a bedazzling smile. "I can see that," she laughed.

He loved that sound. It reminded him of tinkling bells. He slid his eyes closed, engraving it to memory.

"How long you home for?"

Dean opened his eyes and peered down into hers, "Just the night."

Her face fell slightly, but she didn't do like others would have done. She didn't cry, demand, or plead for him to stay. No, she just squared her shoulders, smiled, and placed her palms on his broad chest.

"Well, then, we need to get inside and get going on supper."

He nodded and followed her as we moved into the house, completely enjoying how her jeans cupped her firm bottom.

"Daddy play with me," Jake asked once they entered the cabin.

"Sure, buddy," Dean replied. "Only after we clean up your boo-boos first."

Jake gave a delighted squeal, causing Dean to chuckle.

He slid his shoes off at the door, knowing how Annie hated them on her cream carpet, and set Jake down, who quickly followed his mother into the kitchen. Glancing around at the simple lines and beige furniture, he breathed in the scent of home.

Annie was a notoriously clean person, and he could smell the lemon cleaners she used to polish and shine every surface of her home. Yet, underneath that, was the scent of her, hardening his painfully as her womanly aroma assaulted his senses.

"Babe," he heard her call.

"Coming," he answered as he shrugged off his coat and flung it over a chair she kept by the door.

His socked feet sank into the plush carpet as he padded through the living room and dining room to place himself at the high topped bar. He settled into a cushioned stool to watch how efficiently Annie moved around the massive kitchen.

She had placed Jake on the island as she rummaged through various draws. She quickly pulled out a brown bottle of peroxide, a box of band-aides, and a roll of paper towels, placing them next to the fidgety boy.

She's suck a wonderful woman, Dean thought as Annie cleaned up their son's knees. She deserves a man to live for her instead of her living only for them.

But, Dean could never let her go, he knew that. She meant to much to him. She was his heart and had given him his very soul by bringing his son into the world.

He knew it was selfish to hold her to be only his as he lived in a fantasy of fame, fortune, and naked women.

And, he loved her more for sacrificing a better life for being his hidden world.

"I love you," he whispered.

She picked up Jake, placing him on her hip before coming around the bar. He turned to face her and was quickly drown by her classic beauty. Cupping her free hand on his whiskered jaw, she gave him a sweet kiss.

"I love you," she whispered back when she pulled from his lips.

His heart swelled at the honesty shining in her eyes.

She handed Jake over to him. The boy giggled as Dean tickled his sides, enjoying his son's squeals and wiggles.

He missed this when he was off being a WWE Superstar. Every day that he spent living his dream, he missed his real home more and more. There were days that the longing was so great that he completely shut down and burrowed deep into himself, brooding over them.

"I'm making a meatloaf with homemade mashed potatoes, fried okra, and pickled beets."

She stood straight and brushed her fingers through his disheveled curls.

"With your famous corn bread patties, right," he asked, giving her a cutesy look of hope.

She nodded with a light laugh. Oh, how he enjoy that sound.

"Daddy play with me, now," Jake asked after he had caught his breath from his father's tickles.

"You bet, buddy," Dean replied.

He lifted the child up, tossed him gently into the air, before catching him in his arms. A broad grin crossed his face at the elated sounds coming from his precious boy.

Cuddling the child close to his chest, he crossed the house to enter the hall. He pasted the first two doors, knowing the first lead to the main both while the other was his son's bedroom. He took the boy into the third door, the playroom. The sight enamored him more to his son.

Every inch of the room was covered in wrestling. Action figures were haphazardly thrown all over the floor. Four different types of toy rings sat in a circle around a fifth that was encompassed by a cage. A flat screen television sat on a nice entertainment center that held the latest gaming console with the newest wrestling games. Posters of different WWE Superstars covered every inch of the white walls.

To see that his son shared, not only his messiness, but his love of wrestling filled his heart with a warmth so pure that he wanted to weep.

"So, you like wrestling," he muttered, not trusting his voice not to break.

"Yep," Jake replied.

He wiggled in Dean's arms, signaling that he wanted down. Dean placed him onto the carpet and watched as Jake scuttled over to the rings. His son began lifting different figures, explaining who they were as if his father didn't know.

"This one is John Cena."

The sneer on his boy's cute face had Dean biting the onside of his cheek to keep from laughing. But, when Jake took the Daniel Bryan, or Goat Face as Jake called him, action figure and pummeled the Cena doll with it, Dean couldn't hold back from laughing.

Once he sobered, he anchored himself onto the floor beside Jake.

"Which one is your favorite," Dean asked as he began shifting through the figures on the floor.

Jake's face lit up. "The Fridge, Daddy, he's awesome."

Dean arched a brow, "Who?"

"The Untic Fridge, Daddy."

"Oh," Dean exclaimed, realizing who his boy meant. "The Lunatic Fringe is what he's called."

He reached over and picked up the Seth Rollins doll that had a Money in the Back case attached to it's hand.

"Why do you like him so much," He asked, curious as to why his son picked that one.

Jake had no knowledge that his father was the very wrestler he adored so much. Annie had always made sure to keep them separated from that world, so Dean knew she had never told Jake that his father was a famous wrestler, knowing the boy would excitedly tell anyone who would listen. Instead, she had told Jake that Dean was a traveler, spending months seeing the world.

Jake reached under the futon and snatched at the action figure that resembled his father. He waved it around before slamming it done on a prone Cena.

"He's so cool, Daddy," he exclaimed. "He was a Shield, but that poop-head Self Robins hit him with a chair, so the Untic Fridge beat him up."

Jake used Dean's hand to lift the Rollins doll. He swung the Ambrose figure, knocking the Rollins figure from his dad's hand.

"And, he looks like you, Daddy," the boy said, turning his eyes to look at his dad. "And, he has your name. Why?"

Dean struggled not to flinch. That question hurt, though he knew his smart boy would ask it at some point. He couldn't tell him the truth. His secret and perfect life would be exposed, but her didn't want to lie to his child.

"I don't know, buddy," he said instead, hoping that that would be enough.

It was.

Jake quickly instructed his Dad on how to play before setting up a ladder match between the Ambrose and Rollins dolls.

Dean was in heaven. Every word and giggle from his child sent his heart soaring higher until he thought he would loose air.

"Boys, supper's ready!" Annie called from the kitchen an hour later. "Go wash your hands."

"Buy, mommy...," Jake pouted. "We having fun."

Dean smirked at him. "Come on, buddy. Let's listen to mommy and wash our stinky hands."

Jake stuck his bottom lip out farther. "Pwease, Daddy?"

Chuckling softly, he ruffled Jake's curls before lifting the boy into his arms. He gently hefted his son up and placed him into his shoulder. Jake squealed and wrapped his little arms around his dad's head.

"No want to fall," he said into Dean's hair.

"Aww, Daddy won't drop you," He reassured him.

Careful to not bump Jake into the door frames, Dean went into the hall and down to the first door to enter the main bath. Settling Jake down, he retrieved the blue plastic step from under the sink. He placed it in front of the long vanity. He smiled as Jake easily climbed onto the step and filled his hands with more soap than was needed.

Dean turned on the tap, checking the water temperature before allowing Jake to rinse his hands. Handing his boy a hand towel once all the soap was gone, Dean quickly washed and dried his own hands before following Jake into the dining room.

His mouth salivated at the aroma that assaulted him. When he was on the road, he only ever ate that tasteless food that was to keep him in shape. He hated it. Yet, another reason for him to enjoy this life. Annie was a true southern woman who could deep fry anything. His stomach growled at the mere thought of her delicious cooking.

Picking Jake up, he all but ran to the table and strapped his son into the buster seat.

"Someone's hungry," Annie laughed from behind him.

"Oh, yeah baby," he replied with relish. "It smells so damned good."

He stilled, realizing his mistake. Annie hated cussing. She had said that it was a sign of ignorance and that Dean was no ignorant man.

"Uh-oh, Daddy said a potty word," Jake gasped.

Dean gave a playful glare to his boy before turning his attention to his woman. She was placing a full plate of his favorite fried cornbread patties on the table. Tough her beautiful wavy locks were blocking his view of her face, he knew that she was scrawling at him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized with complete honesty.

She straightened, eyeing him closely.

"I'm not going to be punished, am I," he asked with a false whimper and a pout. "I don't think I deserve a slap on my hiney."

With a soft snort, she rolled her eyes. "Sit down, you dork."

He laughed gently as he slid into his chair at the head of the table. Anytime that he was home, this was his spot. That way Jake was on his left and she was on his right.

Annie, as always, was the last to sit, making sure that her boys had everything they needed before she took her place. Once she sat, Dean reached over and laced his fingers with hers, resting their entwined hands on her thigh as they enjoyed their meal.

Jake beguiled him through dinner with tales of when his granddad, Annie's ludicrously rich father, took him to Sea World. Dean hung on every word, though it saddened him. He knew it should have been him taking his son. That he should've been the one to delight in the excitement of Jake's experience.

But, he couldn't. Not yet, anyway. He loved living his dream. He enjoyed the fantasy he built. Though, it wasn't fulfilling like it had once done.

He looked to Annie, his everything. He knew she understood how he felt by her soft smile and squeeze of her fingers. She reassured him like on one ever could.

"And, then this big whale spashed water all over us." Jake exclaimed with wide eyes.

"Really," Dean gasped, mimicking his son's expression.

Jake nodded with enthusiasm. "Yeah, Daddy, it went everywhere."

He chuckled while rubbing at the sudden ache in his chest.

Somehow knowing that Dean needed her, Annie lifted their joined hands to place a comforting kiss onto his knuckles, causing Dean to smile.

After everyone ate, Annie released Dean's hand and stood to clear the plates. Dean placed a hand on her wrist, his electric touch stopping her.

"Let me help, baby," he said.

She nodded with a smirk. "Okay, Jake go get in your p.j.s while mommy and daddy clean up."

"Yes, mommy," he replied.

Dean followed his son's every move, committing them to memory as the boy wiggled out of the busted and bolted to his room.

"I love watching him," Dean said softly, gathering as many plates as he could to take to the kitchen.

"He loves seeing you," Annie replied as she busied herself at the sink.

Dean finished bring her the dishes and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his front tightly to her back. He struggled to repress a moan at the feel of her curves brushing against the hard planes of his body. He loved how, even while she was cleaning the dishes, her body molded so perfectly to his.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered, placing the last dish into the drainer and turning in his arms.

His world stopped. "Seriously, baby?"

He knew it was a stupid question. Annie would've never joked about that, but it was as if his brain didn't register the meaning of her words.

She smirked up at him and unwrapped his arms from her waist. Placing his hands on the slight curve of her tummy, she nodded.

"How did I not see this," he asked, more to himself than to her.

Every time he had saw her, he drank her in, memorizing every curve and line. Nothing about her had ever escaped his attention. He even knew she was pregnant with Jake before she even uttered a word. But, somehow, this had alluded him and that bothered him. He hated that he had missed anything about her.

"How far along," he murmured, his fingers flexing over the swell.

"Three and a half months," she answered.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, entangling her fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. She brought her body closer to his, making him snake his arms around her hips. He placed his hands on the curve of her bottom, loving how her cheeks filled his hands.

Lifting up on her toes, she breathed into his ear, "It's a girl."

Dean was speechless. The news rocked him to his core, just as it had with Jake. Except, this was more. A girl for him to worship and love as only a father could.

"Say something," she said, concern filling her eyes.

He didn't realize that he hadn't spoke or moved for a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, he pulled her tight to himself and buried his face into her hair.

"A princess," he breathed with utter joy. "Just like her mother."

He felt her smile against his chest. "So you're happy?"

"Delirious," he replied with more honesty than he had ever before.

Loosening his arms, he cupped her beautiful face so that he could stare as deep as possible into her eyes.

"When," Dean asked.

"In April," she answered, chewing at her bottom lip.

He filled with sorrow. April was the busiest time of year for him because of Wrestle-mania. Which meant, he could not be there for her. She would have to bring their daughter into the world by herself, just as she had done with Jake.

It was moments like this that he hated the way he lead his life. Sometimes, he thought it would be easier to expose his real life as it was, but he knew he could never. His perfection would become scarred by his fantasy. It was not meant for a father and lover to live as he did. No, he had to continue to shelter it from the world he came from.

"I can't," his voice thick with emotion.

"I know," she stated, her eyes shining with total understanding.

He shook his head and stepped away from her embrace. The loss of her warmth affected him immediately, making the sadness swell and his eyes sting with tears.

"You shouldn't be so understanding," he began as he gave an aggressive tug to his hair. "I should've promised you a life more than I've given. You deserve more than an empty bed and raising our children alone."

His tears spilled from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He refused to wipe them away. Dean wanted her to witness that this was agony for him as much as it was for her.

"Dean," she called to him softly. "I love you and don't care about a promise of a different life. Because, I know that the road had been putting miles on your heart. I know that one day, you'll have all that you can stand living in a fantasy, and you'll come home to me forever."

He watched as she came over to him and pulled him to her. She wrapped his arms around her waist before burying her head into his chest.

"I beg you, my sweet Annie, don't give up on me," he whispered, taking strength from her.

"Daddy, will you read to me." a little voice asked.

Not wanting his son to see him upset, Dean discreetly wiped his eyes before turning to his boy.

Jake was dressed in the cutest pajamas Dean had ever seen. It was a white "Unstable" t-shirt with black flannel pants that had the WWE logo on them. He looked so precious.

"Sure, buddy," Dean replied. "Go on to your room and pick out your book. I'll be in there in a minute to read to you."

Spurred on by that, Jake raced back to his room, where clattering could soon be heard from his search.

"He's excited," Dean said, turning his attention back to the beautiful woman in his arms.

She smiled and gave him a gentle kiss.

"We both are when Daddy's home."

Giving her one last squeeze, he released her with an affectionate pat on her plumb bottom.

"Leave the light on," he whispered huskily.

She shivered in arousal at the erotic promise in his voice.

Going into his sons room, he found his boy already cuddled under the blankets of his bed, holding a massive book to his chest.

"What's it called," Dean asked as he turned off the main light and turned the bedside light on.

His son slid him the book while answering, "The WWE Encyclopedia, Daddy."

Dean laughed. He was truly amazed at how much like him his son was.

Climbing gently into the bed, he wrapped a protective arm around his boy and slid him close, positioning Jake so his head was leaning against his chest.

He took a moment to enjoy the feel of his little boy curled so close to him before he opened the book and began to read.

Time stretched on as Dean read page after page, smiling as his son added his own knowledge to a wrestler every so often. These were definitely the moments he missed when he lived else where. The booze and random women were embedded in his blood, granted. But, he was feeling a shift. More and more, his very being was longing for his real self to emerge and over shadow the fantasy.

He knew at some point, it would have to. The Dean Ambrose, WWE Superstar, womanizer, and boozer would have to fell away for the real him, a loving man whose past demons didn't affect his every daily life. That day, everyone who thought they knew him would disappear so that room could be made for the two people who really did.

Realizing his son had fallen asleep, Dean closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. He slowly untangled himself from Jake's little sleeping form.

"I love you, buddy," he whispered.

He smoothed back Jake's curls to give him a gentle kiss of his forehead. Tucking his son into the bed, making sure that he would sleep comfortably, Dean turned off the lamp and walked out the room, leaving the door partially cracked.

He made his way to the last door where a soft light spilled out into the hall. His Annie would be in there, waiting patiently for him, he knew. And, she was.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked like an angel. Her soft hair was glowing like a halo around her face. She had changed from her clothing into a worn, long sleeved flannel shirt that hid everything from view except for her lovely, supple legs. Just the sight of her was breathtaking.

Everyone he took while on the road was dressed for sex, with tight skirts and an inch of thick makeup caked on their face. But, they were nothing compared to her.

"God," he breathed as he drank in the vision she made. "You are so beautiful."

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, making her the perfect mixture of innocent and sexy. And, it made his body burn for hers.

But, he had to control himself. Anytime he was with her, it was all about her pleasure, unlike when he was with them. Those others were only about his release. He never really cared if they found pleasure in his bed. Annie was the only woman he ever cared to please, making sure that she reached the highest peeks of ecstasy everytime.

Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, he removed it to expose his bare torso. He wanted to groan as her eyes turned dark with lust as they traced every line of his bare flesh.

He watched her watch him as he slowly unbuckled his belt and eased his remaining clothing off.

He had never let her undress him, the need of her soft flesh against his own was to great to wait for that. Instead, he always removed his clothing under her glaze. Plus,. It heated his blood to know that she, someone so above everything he had ever known, could lust for him so greatly that her very body vibrated with need.

Holding out his hand, he called her to him. She placed her hand gently into his before he pulled her flush to him.

Button but button, he worked to remove the barrier between them, revealing a bit of her smooth skin at a time. He quickly flecked the last button and took a shaky breath at the sight of her. Her firm breasts were peaked with pink erect nipples. Her waist curved into full hips, with the slightest bump of pregnancy. The space between her succulent thighs was dusted with curls that couldn't hide her slick arousal.

At the sight, he groaned.

Gathering the shirt into his fists, he removed it from her shoulders and allowed it to tumble to the floor.

The unhindered view of her perfection stole his breath and raced his heart.

He traced a long finger over her collar bone as his eyes devoured ever curve.

The women he took while gone were nothing but a way to sate his body. He only ever moved their clothing out of the way to suit his needs. They never became fully bare to him when he used them. Just as he never did. Only his sweet Annie ever got the privilege to have his full flesh pressed to hers.

Gathering her into his arms, he revealed in her heat and scent before lifting her into his arms. He lowered his head to meet hers, taking her lips in a passionate slow kiss. He gently nibbles and licked at her as he carried her to the bed. He places her onto it as her lips parted to grant him access.

Both sighed with pleasure as they drank deeply, their tongues meeting and caressing at a leisurely pace.

Her hands entwined deep into his hair while his skimmed over every curve of her.

Her body was so soft and supple beneath his hard planes.

It took everything he had in himself to not shift his hips and bury his throbbing member deep into her warmth.

Breaking from her lips, he kissed the curve of her jaw down her neck and to her shoulder, nibbling lightly. A breathy moan escaped her lips as his hands came up to cup her breasts. He shifted his hips into hers and groaned at the feel of her wet heat sliding down his stiffness.

"Please," she begged, her his rotating to seek the only thing that could slack her lust.

He smirked against her skin. He knew she was desperate for him, but they had all night.

Leaving her shoulder, he trailed his lips down to her breasts. He licked and suckled each trembling peak in turn as she gasped and weathered beneath him. His hands lifted and filled themselves with her twin weights, squeezing them to her liking.

"Please, Dean," she begged again. Her voice was thick with want. "I need you in me."

Her pleads made him groan and broke his resolve. Bracing himself onto his elbows, he angled his hips.

"Wrap those legs around me, baby."

Once she complied, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt.

"Fuck," he hissed.

She felt so good. Her core was so tight and hot around him that it was all he could do not to finish inside her. Burrowing his face into her hair, he struggled to remain still, giving her time to adjust to his length.

He brought himself under control and began to kiss and lick at her neck. Her flesh tasted like ambrosia under his tongue. It was addicting, and he wanted nothing more than to devour her.

"I'm ready," she moaned, grinding her pelvis into his.

He leaned over her so that their eyes met. He watched under a hooded gaze as her eyes fluttered as he slowly drew back before sliding back into her.

"Yes," he groaned. "You were made for me."

He cupped her cheek and placed her lips to hers, kissing her with all the love and passion he felt. He sat a steady, slow pace that caused them both to whimper and moan. Her hips grinding against his in perfect sync while her nails gently scraped against the flesh of his back.

She was begging him to more as he brought them to the edge over and over. But, he never allowed them to spill over, shifting his body to only give more pleasure but never the sweet release that her wanted.

They became slick with sweat as he continued to build them to blinding orgasms. Her skin was flushed and chest heaving with every stroke of her in her body. He worked her, making their bodies sing in deep wanting.

"More," she begged, her need for release so great that tears filled her eyes.

Unable to control himself anymore, Dean leaned back on his legs. He gripped her hips to pull her flush against his pelvis.

"Hold on," he growled, his control finally snapping.

She felt just to good. Her core quivered and clenched around him, diving him head long into erotic ecstasy. He couldn't deny them their release anymore. He couldn't hold it back.

She barely tightened the grip of her legs before his assault began. He slammed his body as deep as his could into her welcoming heat, angling his member to hit every shot within her at a blinding speed. Her hands grabbed his forearms as he furiously worked his body to bring her to the utmost pleasure. With each powerful stroke, he felt her quiver and pulse, spiraling him closer to a mind-blowing climax.

Then, he felt it. Her back arched, and she stiffened. With a winded cry, she shattered into a quaking release.

"Oh, Annie," he groaned.

Her release signaled his own. He continued to work his hips against her own as he spilled deep into her, wanting to prolong their pleasure.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he eased her weak legs from around his waist before allowing his hands to skim over her flushed skin. His heart soared as Annie wreathed in the aftermath of the ecstasy that he gave her. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

Once his heart eased, he lowered himself to her side, wrapping his arms tightly around her to draw her onto his chest.

"I love you so very much," he breathed, taking in her scent mingled so erotically with him.

"And I you," she whispered, her voice weak from their love making.

As she drifted off the sleep, he stayed awake, smoothing his hands over every line of her he could reach. She molded deeper into his body at every touch, seeking more of him. He smirked as his body began to urn for her again.

Pulling her onto his chest, he slid her legs onto either side of his hips before he shifted to fill her once again. A soft moan sounded from her as her eyes fluttered open to stare down at him.

"I can't get enough," he murmured against her lips.

Placing his hands onto her hips, he wordlessly encouraged her to take her pleasure from him.

A few hours later, he was awoken by the buzz of his phone. It rattled softly against the change in his jean pocket. The sound made him want to curse and violently rage. It meant that his time in his happy reality was over. That, he had to leave to go back to living in the fantasy, which was starting to feel more like a nightmare.

Gently, he eased out from under her, the loss of her warmth blackening his mood even mood. She moaned softly and burrowed deeper into the bedding that her placed over them after their last round of love making. He eyes swelled with tears as he realized that she was seeking him in her sleep.

Brushing her hair from her face, he gave her a sweet kiss on her forehead before dressing and leaving the room.

He took a few moments to wonder through the cabin. Every surface and line he committed to memory, just as he had done when Annie's father built the place for her when she was carrying Jake. He touched every photo that came into view, noting the changes in his son's growth in everyone.

He had missed do much. Every important milestone in Jake's and Annie's life had happened without him. It had been left to her to fill both parents shoes since he was off living his lie.

Snatching a silver frame off an end table, he glanced at the picture it held. It was of Annie and Jake on the day he was born. She was holding her little bundle and glancing at their son's face with pure motherly love. He could tell that she was so happy. The picture shattered something inside him. A dam broke in his heart and everything flooded to the surface.

Gripping the frame to his chest, a strangled sob sounded from him. Tears spilled from his eyes as he gripped the frame so hard that it almost broke. He stood there, deep in his sorrow, for sometime before he was able to have a conscious thought.

He needed to go.

He wiped at his face to remove his tears before grabbing his coat from the chair. He shrugged it on and tucked the small frame into his coat pocket, which was something he never done before.

In all his visits, he never took or brought anything for keeping. He was a ghost, moving in and out with no evidence to his movement. But, he couldn't stop himself. He needed them with him. Even if, it was only be a simple picture.

He noticed a peg board by the front door. It held a calendar filled with Annie's elegant script, noting important dates. A pen was hand from a push pen that she obviously used to mark her appointments.

He snatched the pen up, un-capped it, and scribbled a single word on the first empty space he came it.

Lily

When she was pregnant with Jake, he had left her a card with his son's name written in his hasty scrawl. He was doing the same for his daughter.

He left the pen un-capped and dangling from it's string before taking one more look around.

Nothing there was truly his. He hadn't brought or gave for any of it's furnishings or decorations. He had never given Annie a dime. Instead, he held on to it, keeping it locked into a high interest yield account so that the day he gave his dream up, he could pay for her to live hers.

Sighing in disgust at his choices, he eased the door open and left the cabin, unsure of when he'll return.

I been burning bright
So long I cant remember
Pretty girls and late night bars
Seem to be my line of work
Believe me when I say
I cant stay this high forever
This mans had all he can stand,
Time to lay this body down

Sweet Annie
Can I stay with you a while
Cause this roads been putting miles
On my heart, Sweetheart,
Ive been livin in a fantasy
But one day Lightning will strike
And my bark will lose its bite
But dont give up on me
Sweet Annie.

Sweet Annie
I know I promised you a life
But an empty bed and the words I said
Dont carry any weight
If I could take back yesterday,
Find a way to start it over
Turn around, put that bottle down
And pray its not too late

Sweet Annie
Can I stay with you a while
Cause this roads been putting miles
On my heart, Sweetheart,
Ive been livin in a fantasy
But one day Lightning will strike
And my bark will lose its bite
But dont give up on me
What will be will be

Sweet Annie.

Turn out the light
These hands that long to hold you
Fall all over you, all over again
Come a little closer so I can show you
My heart still beats fast for you
All over, and over again
... Oh ...
Sweet Annie
Can I stay with you a while
Cause this roads been putting miles
On my heart, Sweetheart,
Ive been livin in a fantasy
But one day Lightning will strike
And my bark will lose its bite
But dont give up on me

Sweet Annie.