Hiaaa :D

So this is going to be a one shot, unless you guys want me to continue. Reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is most welcome.

Thanks for reading.

'I'm like Tiger Woods, not just because I like the skanks.'- Dean Ambrose.

The music was a light hum in the background, it was barely noticeable over the fake raucous laughter coming from the girls scattered around the room, and the soft murmur of the men trying to seduce them. It was even less noticeable after a few drinks or as a scarcely dressed women wondered past, their lips pouting, their chests sticking out, their curved behinds begging to be touched.

The lighting was low and the club smelt of sex, perfume and beer. Women wondered around flirtatiously in tiny G-strings that begged to be stripped off by some lucky fella's teeth. They smiled seductively and batted long fake eyelashes at men in business suits who held glasses of expensive scotch within their hands.

This club was high end, but it was still a strip joint. The place might have been swanky and furnished expensively with drinks that could bankrupt any man, but the women, as much as they exuded glamour and raw sex appeal they were still just cheap strippers. Skanks that would probably do anything for a couple of dollars and a pretty please.

And that's exactly why Dean Ambrose loved strip joints.

And why Roman Reins despised them.

Dean swigged deeply on his bottle of bud before smirking as some red-headed curvaceous stripper in nothing but dainty white underwear smiled at his friend as she danced around another woman.

Roman physically swallowed. "C'mon man, let's go somewhere else."

Dean took another swig of his beer whilst pushing a strand of sandy hair from his baby blue eyes. "Relax, and I'll promise you'll enjoy."

"You realise my girl will kill me if she finds out I'm here, right?!" Roman almost hissed with a serious face.

Dean smirked before nudging his friend's beer closer to him. "And how the fuck is she going to find out?" Dean's eyes never left a caramel skinned big chested girl that swung around one of the poles.

"If I get caught-"

"Besides," Dean interrupted, his eyes finally moving to follow a tall brunette who was sashaying by. "We've got to wait for Seth to have his dance."

Roman's eyes were hard as he swigged his drink impatiently. He shrugged off a wondering hand of a passing stripper.

Quickly, Dean stood up about to ask the caramel skinned stripper for a private dance when Roman stood so abruptly his beer frothed up and spilt over his hand.

The stripper scurried away at the sight of the two tall intimidating men.

Before Dean could turn and ask Roman what his problem was, Seth appeared in front of them, his long hair pulled back away from his stubbly face.

"You ready to go?" He asked quickly.

"Yes!"

"No!"

The two friend's answered at the same time.

Seth seemed to be squirming as he stood there. "Let's head out, man," he finally said, his dark eyes steely.

Dean narrowed his piercing orbs at his long-time friend; what the fuck was up with him?! He usually loved the strip clubs, they both did!

Just as he about to run his mouth off a high pitched goofy laugh caught Dean's attention. It was a cackle that once heard you never forgot. Dean's eyes flicked behind Seth to see a blonde haired girl with eyes that were so sharp and piercing they could cut a man with just a glance, her lips were plump and painted a taunting dark red and she placed a delicate hand on the chest of a man in a suit; she wore nothing but lacy black hot pants that showed most of her creamy curved ass and a matching black bra that pushed her breasts up so that they grabbed the attention of every man within ten feet of her.

"Dean," Seth called as Dean marched across the to the private dance section, keeping his head down along the way. He almost knocked into the broad attendant/bouncer that stood still, his cold eyes scanning the room looking for trouble.

Dean glared at the attendant. "I want a dance," Dean pointed across the room to the laughing girl. "With her," he pointed before handing the attendant twenty bucks.

The attendant nodded whilst he slipped the note into his pocket before heading over the blonde.

It seemed like forever waiting in the hot leather chair of one of the private dance booths. Dean slipped some gum into his mouth as he wished he'd brought his beer in with him. His cold eyes latched onto the entrance of the booth, and as much as he wanted to let them scan the booth causally, he couldn't.

He watched as the blonde rounded the corner to the booth, a playful smile on her lips.

Her smile fell when her piercing eyes fell on Dean. She stood still in the entrance, folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowed in on him.

"How much for a dance, sweetheart?" he asked cockily, his face scowling. He didn't have to be a fancy shrink to know that by the look on her delicate face, she'd rather do anything than dance for him.

She closed her eyes for the smallest of seconds before taking a deep breath. "Thirty bucks for ten minutes."

Dean dug into his jean pocket and pulled out the notes, holding them in the air. The blonde went to take the payment but Dean snatched it away. "Dance first," he groused. He pouted his lips in an arrogant fashion as she leaned in close to him, he could smell her perfume, and began to grind her body against his. He sat back never taking his eyes off her as she slithered up and down his hard body.

She completely avoided eye contact.

Pressing herself against him she rubbed her breasts against his solid chest before slinking down his body, her ass coming up into the air before she did. She turned, almost sitting down now, rubbing her smooth as against his jean clad crotch.

He hated himself for being so hard.

Going to press a cut hand on her waist she slapped his hand away. "No touching," she hissed, her hands on his knees as she continued to grind into him.

Turning she brushed herself against him, his lips falling by her ear. "You used to like it when I touched," he smirked arrogantly against her skin before she leaned back a little, making eye contact with him for the first time since she started to dance for him.

Placing her dainty hand's on his broad shoulder's she leaned forward, this time her plump lips against his ear. "Fuck you Dean," she hissed before snatching the notes out of his hand and sauntered away without even a backwards glance.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leaving the club, Sammy pulled her leather jacket closer to her, it was getting colder in Las Vegas as November hit them. Pulling her long blonde hair out from under her jacket she began to head down the street to her black beat up 1971 cutlass that she adored.

Rounding the corner she stopped dead in her tracks as she watched a figure wearing a dark hoody with the hood up leaning against the car, the only light coming from the cigarette she could see the figure smoking.

"You know," she let a small sigh of relief escape her lungs. "Parking so far away from the club is a pretty stupid idea," She'd recognise that thick Ohio accent anywhere. "You don't know who could be out here this late at night."

She stepped closer, watching as Dean finally looked up his face coming into light. "I could take them," she said confidently. "I thought you'd quit smoking?" she watched as he pushed back off the car tossing the smoke down to the ground, letting the smoke slip through his perfectly sculpted lips.

He pushed the hood of jacket back, letting his shaggy sandy hair fall forward.

"I thought you'd quit stripping," he accused.

She shrugged. "Once a skank always a fucking skank right?"

He narrowed in his blue orbs on her.

"Sammy-"

"Move, I've got to get home," she interrupted gently pushing him away from the driver's side door, he didn't budge. "Dean!"

He turned to face her now, they were almost touching. He stared down into her ghostly grey eyes. "Your just gonna' bail on me? After I've waited out here for like an hour," he let a small smirk play on his lips, as he tried to lighten the mood.

Sammy scoffed loudly. "So I'm the one who bails now, humph." All he could do was watch as her hard face softened the more he smiled down at her. "Erghhh, I never could resist those fucking dimples, get in, I'll give you a ride home."

With a wink he moved around the other side of the car.

She started the engine and began to drive away them both sitting in uncomfortable silence. "I heard you had a show tonight, how'd it go?" she murmured never taking her eyes off the road.

"It was good," he turned in his seat so that he was facing her. "Listen, I've got like half a dozen guys staying at my place because we're in town," he lied, only Seth and Roman were staying with him. "You mind if I catch a few hours' sleep on your couch?"

The cheeky fucker. He just rocks up after almost six months and asks to stay over, who'd he take her for, some fucking ring rat?!

"You got a lot of nerve," she said, holding her temper in check but on the brink of exploding in his face.

"C'mon Sam," he crooned, his dimples on show.

Shaking her head, knowing she'd regret it she said. "Fine, but only because I have something I want to give you."

He smiled at his victory. They drove in silence for the rest of the drive. Dean didn't comment as they got out of Sammy's car and he followed her up through a hallway that smelt of cheap cologne and the faint smell of urine. He followed her silently as she kicked her front door open and flicked on a light, bathing the room in a bright glow.

The front door opened into a wide living room and kitchen in one. A huge red sofa sat in the middle of the room covered with dozens of brightly coloured cushions. Black and white photographs covered the room.

Dean followed Sam as she tossed her small bag down to the ground before walking down a corridor and into a room that already had the glow of a small lamp coming from it.

She watched as he took in her small bedroom, the thick mattress of the floor covered with blankets and pillows, the clothes scattered untidily everywhere, the black and white photographs covering the walls. One of the desert, one of her brother walking away in the distance, one of Dean standing in the ring, his face taught and his hair damp from sweat holding a belt in the air.

"I never got round to getting rid of it," she said quickly noticing his blue orbs staring at it.

Before she could even continue to say anything Dean crossed the room in one swoop, his hands landing roughly on her tiny hips, his lips crashing down on her red ones.

She responded eagerly, although she knew she'd regret it the next day, it felt too good. His tongue probed her lips before she parted them letting his tongue slip inside her own mouth before she pulled back a little watching as he leaned down even further to continue their kiss. She leaned back again, her neck almost hurting from looking up at him before almost jumping up to land her lips against his once more; she threw her legs around his waist and his calloused heavy hands landed on her round ass to hold her up.

He moaned deep in her mouth as she bit hard on his tick bottom lip.

Moving slowly towards the mattress their passionate kiss never broke; Sammy's long nails scratched at Dean's clothed back and he groped and kneaded her behind before they both fell down onto the bed in a tumble of arms and legs, but their lips never parted.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sammy," Dean grumbled, lightly shaking the blondes petite shoulder trying to wake her. "Sammy, wake up!"

She groaned loudly before holding a hand up to shield her eyes from the intruding sunshine. "What?" She whined.

He pressed his stubbly face against her smooth neck before placing a rough kiss on it. "I gotta' head out," he said; he could almost feel her eyes widen in horror.

She turned around quickly, her eyes failing to mask her irritation.

Dean stared down at her regretting even telling her he was going, he should have just left her a note and bailed.

Standing up quickly Dean watched as she picked up a long sleeved T-shirt that he knew at some stage had belonged to him and threw it over her head. She stared at the clock on the wall. "Five hours of your time," she snarled. "It's been six months and all I get is five fucking hours!"

Dean sat up quickly about to argue back but she held a hand up to stop him. "Don't, I know, you got a show to get to. You've always got a show to get to. You can't leave them waiting," she spat before turning on her heel. "Let yourself out," she yelled as she slammed the bathroom door leaving Dean sitting there alone.

Pretty please could you tell me your thoughts? Go oooonnnn : )