Between the Sheets

Note: Thanks so much for all of the reviews. They all made me smile. I actually like this fic which is kinda weird… Right? Because I, one half of the Queens of Fluff, never like my stories. But whatever, I'm just glad you all like it. Oh yes, and the chapter titles are almost all from Three Days Grace's new CD One-X which I recommend to EVERYONE. Go and get the damn thing now, because it's freakin' awesome! Okay, no more cheap plugs for my favorite bands. I swear… LOL. :D

Disclaimer: Yup, still don't own 'em. You know what would happen if I did. LOL. I do want to own Randy, though… -sigh-

Chapter Two: Time of Dying

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Once again Trish was stuck at a club with her closest friends; and once again she was bored. The party life got old… Fast. She hated going to clubs. In the beginning they had all been different, had all been so fun. But after about the thousandth time they all seemed the same to her.

She sat at a round table with Lilian to her right and Amy Dumas to her left. They were both drunk. Very drunk. Trish groaned inwardly. She didn't want anyone to puke in her rental. She'd have to pay extra bucks for that.

"Triiiiiisssshhhh, let's dance!" Lilian giggled. The announcer was already on her feet though she was very unstable. She almost fell, but Trish was on her feet and holding her up.

"Let's go back to the hotel," Trish yelled in Lilian's ear. Lilian shook her head and stumbled to where Dave Batista was sitting with his group of friends. Trish watched her friend go, and wasn't surprised when Amy fell into Adam Copeland's lap a minute later.

Trish sat back down and sipped at her margarita. She watched her friends interact and flirt with their boyfriends who were surprisingly sober. Her eyes flicked to Paul Levesque who looked almost as bored and she was, and then she looked at Randy. Just like the night before he had two brunettes sitting on his lap. The sight made her want to puke.

The blonde Canadian kept staring at him, not taking her eyes off of him as she took another sip of her drink. His hands were under one brunette's shirt while his lips were attached to the other's neck. She almost spit out her drink. She wanted to tear her eyes away but she couldn't. There was something in her that wanted to watch him. Deep down she wanted to be those girls. Deep down she wanted him to be doing that to her.

"Damnit Trish, stop," She scolded herself. She hated how she was beginning to feel about the Legend Killer. She hated how every time he left her after he fucked her senseless she felt like her heart was breaking. She hated how she kept running back to him.

Randy must have noticed her staring because soon he was standing in front of her table with a smirk on his face. Trish snapped out of her daydream and raised her eyes slowly up to meet his. Her breathing got slightly ragged at the sight of his button up shirt hanging halfway open and his cheeks flushed red.

"What the fuck do you want?" She snapped when she was able to speak. Her heart raced in her chest when he walked around the table cockily and sat down next to her. He scooted the chair as close to her as possible and smirked.

"I saw you staring," He whispered in her ear. Trish's breath hitched in her throat. Dancers soon surrounded them, and they were blocked off from their friends.

"Who said I was staring at you," She hissed. Trish put down her margarita but kept looking straight. She knew he was staring at her with the same intensity as always.

"Oh I could tell," His breath was hot on her neck, and made Trish want to melt. Why did he have to bother her like this? Why did he have to tease her?

"Where's your whore?" She spat angrily. Randy raised both of his eyebrows and touched her shoulder. Trish jumped at this.

"Sleeping," He said simply, his hand moving down her arm slowly. She hated how he was affecting her. She didn't want to want him. She hated it more than anything. She was beginning to hate herself for letting him do this.

What happened to the decision you came to last night? What happened to stopping this whole damn thing? Are you that weak? A voice inside her head asked her. Trish gasped when his hand moved to her thigh. She grasped her drink so she wouldn't take hold of his face and kiss him like she wanted to. He was so close to her that out of the corner of her eye she could see the small sunburst around his pupil.

Then his hand moved to her inner thigh and Trish almost lost control of all her senses. He blew her mind away when he began to rub tormenting circles on her leg before moving closer to her core. Trish drew in a breath from between her teeth when he pushed his hand lightly against her. Then, as quickly as he had come, he had left. Trish's slitted eyes opened wide and she looked around frantically for him.

Damn him! Trish screamed in her thoughts. The dancers had moved, and she saw him with an exotic woman over on the other side of the club with his hand pushing up her skirt. She ground her teeth together and clenched her fists. She hated him even more. The fire burning inside of her was growing into a raging inferno. He was going to pay. She hated being the woman he came to after he fucked a whore. She hated being like a toy that was placed on the shelf when a kid didn't want to play with it. She was the toy, and Randy was the impatient kid.

Trish stormed out of the club, her mind clearing fully when she was outside. She stomped down the streets, her footsteps echoing off the sides of the expensive restaurants and stores. She saw the hotel in the distance and continued to walk. She pushed apart a couple who was kissing and glared back at the chick who was cursing at Trish.

"Fuck you," Trish snarled angrily. The girl got the hint and snuggled up to her boyfriend who watched Trish walk away. Trish reached the hotel, and once in the lobby she stopped. Her arms hung at her sides, sweat running down her forehead from rushing back to the hotel, her feet screaming with pain.

She trudged into the open elevator a minute later and sat down against the wall. Her short denim skirt barely covered her whole thigh, but once she stood she felt more covered; safer.

"Damn Trish, you look horrible," Someone remarked once the elevator doors opened. Trish looked up to find John Cena standing there. He walked in and helped her up to her feet, "Are you drunk?"

"Far from it, buddy," She hissed under her breath. She wrenched from his gentle hold and walked out of the elevator, leaving him there. She didn't want his pity. He probably knew all about the affair she was having with Randy.

Trish moved inside her room and fell onto the bed with a tired sigh. Her insides still jumped at the thought of Randy's hand caressing her thigh. She rolled onto her stomach and stared at the headboard. Her mind flashed with images of her gripping the headboard to steady herself during some of their sexual encounters. She shook her head to wipe the thoughts away.

She got dressed in her pajamas and crawled into bed. No sex tonight. The thought almost made her cringe. She was so used to him coming and fucking her until she was practically dead. She curled up into a ball and stared out onto the balcony. Maybe she needed this night alone to think things through. She listened to cars honk and she was almost put to sleep by the sound of the city.

The peace was disrupted by a banging on her door. She knew who it was. She was hesitant about answering the door. She had forgotten about him for those thirty minutes. Now he was there, standing in front of the door. She opened the door slowly and wasn't surprised the least when he pushed her inside and slammed it closed.

"You left," He mumbled while kissing her neck. Trish's hands were on his chest. Her heart was racing again, but not with excitement. With anger. The inferno had diminished to embers; now it was back in full force. She gave him a hard shove that made him fall into the wall. His icy blue eyes widened.

"Get out," Trish demanded with a point of her finger towards the door. She wasn't surprised when he didn't get it and moved towards her again. She was about to push him again but he had her backed against the wall with his hands gripping her wrists over her head.

"You don't want that," Randy whispered. Trish nodded frantically but he knew better. She still wanted him.

"Damnit get off of me," Trish whimpered. Randy kissed under her chin and down the front of her neck to her collarbone. Trish tried to breathe easily, but his kisses set her on fire. She arched into him and let him kiss her chest though the fabric of her shirt.

"You know you love it," And Randy was right. She did love it. But she had had enough, and she wasn't going to let him continue to push and pull her. She didn't need him for anything but sex, and that wasn't an essential part of her life. She had to get rid of him. That was the only solution.

When she felt his grip loosen on her wrists she slipped her hands through his large hands. Randy thought she'd give in, but he couldn't have been more wrong. He hadn't expected the push that sent him sprawled onto the bed. He smirked, thinking she was just getting ready.

"I don't want you to come to me anymore," Trish raised her chin in defiance. Randy was shocked.

"What do you mean?"

"I hate you more than you'll ever fucking know, and I don't want you to fuck me anymore!" Trish yelled. She didn't care if the whole hotel heard anymore. She was done with this game.

"You're not serious about this," Randy tried to reason. But the strong look in Trish's hazel eyes told him differently.

"I'm as serious as a God damn heart attack," Trish breathed angrily. Randy stood up, his arms crossing across his chest.

"Oh really? Well I have many other whores," He said as they stared each other down.

"If you're calling me a whore then I must be the best one because you're with me every night," Trish sneered. Randy opened his mouth to protest but he shut it. She was definitely right. She was the best.

"Why are you doing this now?" Randy groaned. Trish knew he was horny, and she knew he wanted her, but he had the chance to have her earlier and he didn't take it. Instead he just threw more firewood into the blaze deep inside of her.

"Because I've smartened up and seen that I'm just a toy. A toy you take off the damn shelf every time you get bored with the others," Trish shouted. Randy blinked a few times.

"You're right," He said pathetically, "You are just a toy, and that's all you'll ever be to me," His voice began to waver. She wasn't just a toy to him but he wanted her to believe that.

"Than get the fuck out if I'm just a God damn toy," Trish pointed towards the door with a menacing finger. Randy obeyed her with his head hung slightly in defeat.

"You'll come running back to me," He said as he turned around, "I know you will."

"You keep wishing that, dumbass," Trish pushed him out into the hallway and slammed the door in his face.

Trish's defiant expression changed. She sighed and walked back into the room. She was supposed to feel happy about letting him go. But her heart was being pulled out the door with him. She hated this feeling. Trish clenched her fists and picked up a vase of flowers left on the night stand and threw them at the wall.

"Damn you," She whispered to no one in particular. She was pissed at herself. She didn't mean to get attached. She didn't want to get attached. Why did he have to be so alluring, so handsome?

The blonde slid down the thin wall and sat with her knees slightly bent. She stared at the opposite wall in disgust. She hated herself more than ever. Her heart was being pulled even further with him as he walked further away. She growled angrily at the feeling inside.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Trish grasped her hair in her hands. She rested her forehead on her knees and begged the tears that filled her eyes not to fall. But once she blinked they began to drip on her pajama pants, and they wouldn't stop. She was beyond pissed. These tears showed that she was attached, that she needed him in more ways than just sex.

She rocked back and forth, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth were beginning to hurt. She didn't want to feel this way about him. He was arrogant, cocky, a class A bastard. And yet, she wanted him. Still. After everything he did, after everything she said, she still wanted him.

She began to think that getting rid of him wasn't the only solution.

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Note: Yup, weak. This isn't my favorite chapter. But whatever. You can't like every chapter, right? So, reviews are always appreciated. They boost my confidence, and make me laugh. LOL.

Rachel