Hello and thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, or reviewed! These next few chapters get a little weirder (sexually, of course), as some other characters are thrown into the mix. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!

Chapter Two

But of course, she would, the very next night, in fact. She had considered making a new sign for the Smackdown taping, one that would've said "Thank you Ambrose" so that she could let him know that she was appreciative of him not abandoning her in the alley and walking her to the cabs. It's not like she could properly send him a thank you card, so a sign at the show seemed like it would be the next best thing. She decided against it though, as it wouldn't really make much sense on TV.

She did want him to see her though, and having a sparkly sign with her would make her stand out more. However, she was running out of time to come up with a better idea. She had left so little time on Tuesday evening to get ready that she had to choose between making a new sign and making herself look nice. If she hoped to spend some quality time with Ambrose alone again then she had better pretty herself up instead.

She was in the front row again, naturally. She wouldn't settle for anything less. However this time, she was on the opposite side of the ring. She waited all night for the appearance of the Shield, and she was rewarded for her patience when they came out for the main event of the evening. As the three of them slowly swaggered around the ring, Natasha was disappointed to see that Ambrose hadn't noticed her. She'd just have to cheer and boo particularly loudly tonight so that he knew she was there!

The Shield seemed to be dominating their competitors at the start of the match until Ambrose made his second tag into the ring and now he was getting the shit beaten out of him. Natasha started chewing her nails and jumping up and down on the spot with nervous energy.

"Come on, Ambrose!" she whispered under her breath, yet everybody around her was cheering on his face competitors.

She felt she must drum up some support for him so she slapped the barricade in front of her hard and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Let's go, Ambrose!"

Then she slapped her hand down on the barricade again a few more times in fast succession before repeating the chant. Much to her delight, other people around her on the front row started to take up the chant. She found that odd though, since he WAS a heel. She was only cheering him on because she knew what a nice guy he really was underneath it all.

He was thrown hard into the corner closest to her and proceeded to fall to his knees and press a hand to his back. While he was on the ground, he turned his head to the outside of the ring and looked out into the crowd. Natasha couldn't be quite sure, but she thought she saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes…and was that a look of disgust?...before he scrambled toward the Shield's corner and dove to make a tag to Seth.

After the show, she had gone to the closest bar just like she had the previous night, hoping that eventually Ambrose and the other wrestlers would show up and she could quickly thank him before going back to her hotel room. After waiting for two hours, she gave up and went back to the hotel, feeling defeated.

When she entered the hotel, she could hear a lot of noise coming from the bar at the end of the lobby. That was a bit odd for a Tuesday night, but maybe some wrestling fans had retired there after the show and had been served too much. She hit the elevator button and while she was waiting, her curiosity got the best of her and she decided to go take a peek inside.

A slow smile lightened her face when Natasha saw who was making such a racket. Tonight had turned out to be her lucky night after all. There were no wrestling fans there, apart from the girl sitting in the midst of actual wrestlers, if she could even be called a fan. They weren't just random wrestlers either. He was there, her new special, most favorite wrestler - Dean Ambrose! Her first glimpse of the rowdy scene at the bar also took in Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns, Antonio Cesaro, Wade Barrett and, oddly enough, CM Punk. She tottered closer on her wedges excitedly to greet Dean, but she hadn't decided how to approach him yet. That look he'd given her when he had been in the ring, whatever it was, hadn't filled her with confidence that he would actually be as pleased to see her again as she would be to see him. But the closer she got, the more she realized that there was something off about what was going on here. The girl who was with them could hardly sit up straight in her chair and her speech was obnoxiously loud and slurred. She was clearly drunk. Natasha backed away. She should get security. You weren't supposed to get that drunk in a hotel. She could bother other guests, she might be a danger to herself, she might be in danger ...

"Hey! Is that you?" one of the wrestlers shouted at her just as she turned her back. "Is that alley blowjob girl?!" She saw that it was Seth Rollins when she stopped to look over her shoulder.

Natasha froze in place. Why did he…? How could he…? Maybe she heard him wrong? Her eyes darted back and forth in panic. What should she do? Her embarrassment and desire were fighting and all she could do was stand there hesitating.

She saw Seth lean over and say something to Ambrose, who glanced at the drunken girl, said something to the group, and then stood up. He approached Natasha slowly, perhaps cautiously, as if she was going to launch herself at him and never let go. Her eyes were fixed on his, but she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the other men were helping the drunken girl up and out of the bar. Dean really was a gentleman, wasn't he? He had told the boys to help the drunken girl to a cab so that she could get home safely.

"Hey. Fancy seeing you again," he said, cocking his head to the side.

"Hey!" Natasha replied enthusiastically.

She felt her face pull into a smile when he spoke to her, but the greeting felt so dry considering what they had done last night. She wanted him to kiss her and take her in his arms so much that she reached out a tentative hand and gave his arm a pat, which turned into a half-stroke. Even Natasha realized how awkward it looked. She knew she often misjudged these types of things. Dean watched her hand make its movements over his arm and the look on his face suggested that far from feeling disgusted by her touches he found them ... amusing? Natasha dropped her hand, feeling slightly embarrassed, and then Dean seized her wrist. The sudden movement made her gasp, but she felt much more relaxed when he gently moved his hand up her arm, rested it on her shoulder, and turned her around with a push to face the exit of the bar. He settled his hand in the small of her back and started walking and Natasha, hardly believing her luck that he wanted to chat somewhere more private, walked with him.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked as they walked.

"Yeah it was awesome!" She smiled at him by her side.

"Good," he replied shortly.

"Hey...where are you taking me?" she then thought to ask.

"You'll see," he winked.

They went right to the elevator that Natasha had been going to get into but had abandoned in favor of checking out the bar. She was so glad she had because now look who was standing beside her!

"You want to please me, don't you?" he asked after pressing the button of the elevator. He turned to her, piercing her with a look that felt like it could see right inside her very soul.

"Yes, Dean! It's only right to thank you for helping me out last night after my…um…apology." Her face began to glow crimson.

"Cool. I think you should start calling me Mr. Ambrose, okay Nancy?"

"Okay, but my name is Natasha," she tried to say, but the elevator landed on the ground floor and the bell that sounded when the door opened drowned out her name. He stepped inside and turned around, crooking his finger and beckoning her to follow him.

The ride up was silent and uncomfortable. She wanted to say something to lighten the mood, but she wasn't sure what to say. Was he bringing her back to his hotel room? She felt her face heat up again as her mind raced with all sorts of dirty thoughts. They finally reached his floor and he grabbed her wrist again as he dragged her out into the hall.

He paused when they reached the door at the end of the hall. He cupped both his hands around her face and bent down so that he was at her eye level.

"You need to promise me that you will not speak of anything that happens in here, got it?"

She understood. As much as she would love to tell the world that she had sex with Dean Ambrose, discretion was important for a man in his position, and honestly, she wouldn't want word of this somehow getting back to her father either. She nodded her head and couldn't hide her smile.

"Fantastic." He slipped the keycard into the slot and slowly opened the door. She was not prepared for what was waiting for her inside.

The drunk girl that had been with the wrestlers downstairs was now lying on her back on what Natasha could only assume was Dean's, or Mr. Ambrose's, as she was now supposed to call him, bed with her legs parted. But that was not the worst of it. Her hand was between her legs and she was rubbing herself. The men were dotted about the room, leering at her or egging her on. All of them, bar one of course, had a drink in hand and looked like they were having a good time.

"Why have you brought me here?" Natasha asked Dean shakily. He had left her side and found a place for himself on an arm of the couch.

"Come here, don't be frightened," he beckoned her with his hand, ignoring her question.

She should have left the room but he spoke to her so gently and reassuringly that she slowly approached him. She ignored the vulgar staring of the other men who watched her as she passed and stopped in front of Dean. He put his hands on her hips, turned her around and pressed her onto his lap. She sat there stiffly and he kept her perched on his knee by firmly holding her there. He then put his mouth to her ear and sent a shiver through Natasha's body as he spoke to her.

"Look at that girl," he ordered.

"I am, Mr. Ambrose," she answered.

As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn't peel her eyes off of the woman in front of her. Perhaps it was because she was frightened and nervous about what was going on in here and more importantly, what was going to happen to her.

"Good girl. Now tell me, what is that bitch doing?"

Natasha's face, which had been pale ever since she stepped into the room, was now flush.

"She's touching herself."

He suddenly pinched her other ear hard between his fingers. "I am not pleased with that answer. Try again, sweetcheeks."

She heard some stifled laughter from the other men. She desperately glanced back and forth between them, searching for some sort of answer as to what she should say to please him. She finally gave up and turned to look at Ambrose, her mouth hanging open and a worried look in her eyes. He grabbed her head and turned it sharply back toward the naked woman before bringing his lips up to her ear once more.

"You're a smart girl, right? Describe to me what she is doing. I want to hear it come from that pretty little mouth of yours that I so enjoyed last night." He dragged his index finger across her lips as he whispered to her.

That slight touch made her breath come out in shudders. It was so hard to come up with an answer she thought he would like when he was making it difficult to concentrate on anything but him.

"She's putting her fingers inside herself," she finally said after watching the girl in discomfort for a moment.

"Yeah, what else?" Ambrose asked. She then felt him slowly move his warm hand up her skirt.

"Now she's took them out...and she's touching her clit."

Her face grew hot when she named that most intimate little spot. She gasped when Ambrose rewarded her for her answer by edging his hand further up her bare thigh until his thumb traced her bikini line.

"How is she touching that clit?" he murmured in her ear.

"Fast," Natasha panted.

He'd slipped his hand beneath her skimpy panties and was feeling her, but not touching her hot wet core. He felt around her neat bikini line and stroked her soft pussy lips, but didn't touch her right where she wanted to be touched. Suddenly, he tore his hand away from her and cursed.

"Dumb Fuck!"

Natasha snapped her eyes open and for one crazy moment, she had thought he had been calling her that. However, now it was quite obvious that he had insulted the other girl because everyone was looking in her direction and jeering at her, and she could see why. She had spilt her drink all down her front.

Dean pushed Natasha to the floor as he stood up and moved toward the bed. Upon further inspection, Natasha realized that the naked girl had passed out, which was why she had dropped her drink all over her. He stood by the side of the bed and smacked the girl's face. There was no response. He grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her upright.

"Roman, what the fuck, man? You were the one who found her, so you were in charge of making sure the bitch didn't drink so much that she was going to pass the fuck out!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know how much she had already had before she joined us. I thought she could handle her liquor better!"

Ambrose rubbed his forehead in frustration and made an irritated grunt. He nodded at Seth and the two of them picked her up and carried her to the door. CM Punk had jumped up to go open the door for them and then went to grab her clothes as the two men placed her on the floor right outside the room. Punk handed her clothes to Dean before going to sit back down. He dropped the clothes on top of her sleeping form and shook his head in disgust.

"That's why the dumb bitch shouldn't have drunk in the first place. Maybe she'll learn her fucking lesson next time," Punk said, leaning back in his chair.

Dean shut the door behind him and returned to the main part of the room. He stood facing Natasha and cracked his knuckles as he stared her down. It was at that moment that she realized that all six of the men were now focused on her.

Natasha scrambled to her feet. She felt pretty stupid lying on the floor where he had left her. Then out of nowhere, for seemingly no reason, Dean slapped her across her face pretty damn hard. She squealed and immediately put her hand to her stinging cheek. She heard the other men let out a chorus of "ohhhh!" and surprised laughs at what Dean had just done to her.

"That was for standing up without my permission, and to cheer me up. I feel a lot better now," Dean said to sniggers from the other men. "Nothing calms me down more than slapping a bitch."

He had just slapped her and called her a bitch. What had gotten into him?! She looked up at Dean through hurt eyes.

"What?" he asked. Then he crouched down, making himself her height again. "Are you gonna slap me back?"

"No, I'd never hit you," Natasha automatically answered. The thought of hurting him had never even crossed her mind.

"Good girl. You're already a lot more disciplined than some of the bitches these guys have brought to me."

She looked at him, confused, but chose not to pry further into his comment just then. This wasn't the time for it.

"Now you do realize the situation you're in right now, yes?" She stared at him blankly. "Okay, darlin'," he said, softly stroking her cheek with his hand. "As you just saw, my other toy broke, so now I don't have anything to play with tonight. But as luck would have it, you found me again, so the whole night isn't ruined. You want to please me, right? Would you like to be mine tonight?"