Thanks for the feedback on my other two pieces.


He sat at a table in the back of a crowded lounge, long muscular legs stretched in front of him earning a few glares from other patrons who were inconvenienced by having to either go around or step over his him to get where they were going. Taking a long swig from his beer, his blue eyes scanned the room watching, looking. He'd decided early on that this kind of place definitely was not his scene. The slow jazz music poured through the speakers, his holey jeans and leather jacket stood out like a neon light in a room full of business suits. Las Vegas may be where his current physical address was, but hotels were his home and hotel lounges were like a best friend's house…you go just long enough to raid the fridge and once the fun is over you get the fuck out. This particular one was more like your crazy ex's house, nothing good could come from being there. He pulled a cigarette from the pack on the table and flicked his lighter open.

"Excuse me, sir."

"Yes?" He drawled out, barely looking up to acknowledge the waitress who was eyes him nervously.

"You can't smoke that in here." She forced a small smile.

He simply shrugged and stood, "I'm leaving anyway."

He was leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand, blowing out a puff of smoke when two women stumbled out of the back door. They stopped, noticing him standing there. "Hey, I know you!" The smaller of the two shrieked.

"Not likely." He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with his boot.

"Yeah, you're Dean Ambrose." She took a few steps toward him, tugging her friend behind her. "Aren't you suppose to be some kind of sex fiend? Why are you out here alone?"

He couldn't stop his eyes from rolling. Her friend spoke up, clearly the designated driver, apologetically. "Annabeth! Leave the man alone. Let's get you home."

Annabeth pouted, "But Kell! It's Dean AMBROSE!" She whined.

He held up his hand, shaking his head, "Save it sweetheart. Tonight ain't gonna be your night." He pushed off the wall and walked across the parking lot to the hotel lobby.

"Dude, did I seriously just witness that?" Dean stopped at the elevator, hands shoved in his pants, suddenly resigning himself to the fact that he would never get any peace and quiet tonight.

"Hey Seth."

His two-toned stable mate and friend stood beside him a smirk on his face, "You just turned down free pussy?"

"It does happen on occasion, Rollins." He sighed, frustrated, pushing the button for the elevator.

Seth held his hands up, "I'm just saying, it doesn't happen very often. You gotta keep that panty slayer reputation intact."

Dean ignored him and stepped into the elevator, pushing the button for his floor. Seth followed behind, leaning on the opposite wall. "Ok, what's up?"

Dean stared at him blankly. "Nothing's up. I'm beat up. I'm tired. I'm sore. I don't feel like putting out the effort tonight. I just want to give Dean Ambrose," he emphasized the name with air quotes, "the night off."

Seth shifted, studying the man in front of him, "If you say so man. Just almost sounds like…" his voice trailed off as he shook his head, "Nevermind."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open and the two men stepped out heading down the hall to their rooms. Dean stopped at his door, annoyed at himself for letting his curiosity get the better of himself, he knew he was going to regret asking, "Sounds like what, Seth…almost sounds like what?"

A slow smile spread across the younger mans features, "It's just…who is she? I mean…we've been traveling together for over a year and you rarely turn down cute pussy and when you do it's much smoother than that shit out there was."

Yep, he definitely regretted asking. "I'm just tired, I'm sure the Dean everyone knows and lusts will be back in the morning." He slid the key card into the door and pushed it open, relishing in the silence that greeted him.

Dean tossed his jacket onto the end of the bed and kicked his boots off before falling across the mattress, long limbs splayed from corner to corner. Shoving a hand into his wild blonde hair, he let out an audible sigh. "Fucking hell. What the fuck? 'Who is she?'" he mocked Seth's question from earlier.

Everyone knew there damn well was a woman in Dean Ambrose's life and everyone also damn well knew who that woman was. She was beautiful, unlike any other female he'd ever laid eyes on. She tempted and teased him in ways no one or nothing ever had. He'd sacrifice anything for her. He loved her more than life itself. Hell, she was his life. It was cheesy as fuck, but there was no way he could imagine waking up and not having her be a part of his world. He'd almost lost her once…almost given up on her and walked away but like the temptress that she is, she lured him back with her charms and promises. He can't remember not having her around and couldn't imagine life without her.

She was all he knew and it terrified him to think one day she might be gone. She could toss him to the side like a piece of trash. Dean gave her everything she asked for and prayed to a deity he wasn't sure he believed in that she would never realize she could do better than him. There was a line of men that reached past the horizon waiting to take his place, but for right now she had chosen him.

The beautiful amazing mistress had chosen him to give her attention to and to let bask in the limelight of her. He was in awe of his mistress each and every day. While he had given everything he had to her, she had finally given in and started giving back to him. He was relishing in the attention he'd fought so hard to get. They had their ups and downs. There were hard times where he questioned if their relationship wasn't a bit one-sided, but in the end, he'd worked too hard for her to get frustrated now just because she could be a little fickle at times.

Granted, she did tend to take more than she gave, but then again, weren't all relationships a little bit one sided? Sure, she could be a little abusive at times, but didn't all women get a little crazy at times? He'd never seen a healthy relationship so truth be told, he wouldn't know one if it walked up and gave him a big warm hug. His girl, she was definitely demanding. She expected him to give his all, but it's only because he always had. At least he always had to her. Fuck everyone else. Everyone else could get in line and take a fucking number behind that delectable lover of his. No one else knew him, the real him, like she did. She was his escape and one day, if she would let him, he would be her savior.

But "Who is she?" Seth had to be out of his fucking mind. Seth damn well knew Dean's number one girl was his job.

Wrestling. Such a fickle bitch. But a beautiful one. And his fickle bitch.