A/N: So sorry this took a ridiculous time to finish. It took a long time just to start it lol. But I haven't forgotten about you all! Thank you for the positive vibes. Hope you enjoy this one too!
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Chapter 2
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Three weeks pass on the same, everyday route to Miami. Finally, Labor Day comes around and their crew has half of the day off, after 2:00 (which is absolutely perfect for both Trina and Tom, because their social activities normally start after dark anyway).
Trina hand delivers his coffee like she always does, neither of them have spoken very much about that night, but they've spoken to each other just like any other time. "Here you are, Captain Decker." She says, just as he's standing up from his seat.
Stretching, he takes the steaming coffee, thanks her, and starts gathering his things to get on the road and out of this plane. She's watching him and finally realizes that she's wondering if he even cared about their night. What is she thinking? She shouldn't care, but something is grinding at her and telling her she will care. Nonetheless, she shakes her head and heads to the closet where Patty is still cleaning up a few things, then starts to help her.
Once everything is cleaned and put away for the next crew, Trina gets her things and steps out of the plane, bumping into Tom. "Oh – I'm sorry." She says, "I guess we just keep bumping into each other." She says innocently, and the bump was exactly that – innocent.
He says, "It's alright, not the first time we've knocked together outside of the plane." and his grin is smug as her mind is swirling.
And there she knows, she is sure he remembers that night. It brings a smile to her face, and she has to hold it back by biting her bottom lip down and turning away so she won't reel herself back into him. Not a great idea to suggest it first, again.
But "Hey, Trina!" stops her in her tracks, turning back to him and looking into his sunglasses, "You doing anything later?"
She shakes her head, yells back through the wind, "No, why?" and tries to shield her eyes from the sun with her hand, but it isn't working very well.
He steps to her so he doesn't have to yell as he replies, "I'm having a little party later, and I'd love for you to come. I don't usually invite the stewardesses, but I think you're an exception."
She doesn't answer immediately, she doesn't want to sound like she's been waiting for his invite for three weeks. "Sure? I bet you throw nice parties."
"It's actually something I do every year for the Labor Day party, we have a clam-bake on the beach."
"Clam-bake?" She chokes out, trying not to wrinkle up her nose. She sucks in both of her lips after he nods, and it assures her that she heard him right unfortunately. "Oh, yeah...sounds great." no it doesn't, you don't like clams, "Do I need to bring anything?"
"Your bikini and your own drink."
And a nose clip for those nasty clams, "Okay, I'll be there." She says with a warm smile, "What time?"
"Any time, I'm heading over there right after this so I can go ahead and get the fire stoked and the clams all clean." He says, looking subtly at her hands for keys, "Do you drive?"
"I can, but I don't have a car at the moment." She says, looking back at where all the other's cars are parked. "I usually just take the cab."
He asks her where she lives, she tells him, and he offers to take her. "I drive that Jaguar right there." He points to the silver, polished, beautifully waxed one.
Her smile is undeniably big, "You drive that?" and once again, she has to bite her lip once she realizes how giddy she's acting. How silly.
"Four years as a pilot pays off." He answers with a little smirk, already taking her coat and her arm, "Come on, you're gonna say yes anyway."
She stops and pulls her arm away, tilting her head with a sly smile, "What makes you think that, tiger?" She asks, teasing him with that name.
He's still facing the cars as he huffs a laugh, then turns on one foot, "Tri, your face-"
"Trina." She insists.
His eyes roll a little, giving her a grimacing look, "Trina...your face brightened up when you saw I drive a Jaguar. I know you want to ride in it."
She tries to hold her serious expression, but miserably fails and gives in, nodding, "Okay." She replies, but stops him, "Wait, I have no suit or drink with me. That was the only instruction I was given and now I'm not following..."
Shaking his head, he unlocks his car and starts walking with her to it, "That's fine." He says, his brows raising, "We can get one at the beach, and I suppose I can supply the drink this time."
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"So you just...throw this every year for labor day?" She asks, holding her hair away from her face while her thin, lacy cover-up is blowing gracefully in the wind. "Just because?" She continues, her shoulders raising a little in question.
He nods, working on the fire at the moment. "I do. My dad always had one every year and when he died I kinda took over. But I make it more fun. He didn't do much alcohol or...fun, really. He just made it a family affair and I...don't." He says, finally getting the log stood up to where he wanted it.
"Oh." She replies, looking back toward the ocean so her hair stops annoying her. Sometimes I should just get it cut short plays back in her mind from this morning when it was bothering her while she was trying to put it up. But she knows the facts...if she had to part with her long hair she just wouldn't be the same Trina anymore. "So the alcohol...lots?"
He chuckles, nodding as he stands up and brushes the sand from his knees. "Lots. And lots, and lots, and lots." and then he looks over, seeing the first three couples arrive in their bikinis and swim trunks, coolers (probably full of beer) being toted in their hands.
He's friendly, she can tell that much. He's nice to everyone he knows, but seems to be rude to the new people that he meets. But tonight, she's beginning to realize that it's just because he has an odd kind of shyness to him that makes him put up a wall of arrogance. Like he did with her on the first day. She's glad she's noticed it with the others, though, because she was wondering all this time if he really just wanted to be rude to her or if he had a reason.
Apparently, the ceremonial start to this whole ordeal is to take two shots of tequila. (He was most certainly not lying when he said lots, and lots, and lots of alcohol). The two shots were down, and people were having fun with dancing in the sand, horseshoes clanking against metal poles (or in some cases, like hers, they went skidding in the sand. She's decided she's not the best horseshoe competitor, but doesn't mind it because he gets right aganst her and takes her arm to help her swing it. Still, she fails), and amazing finger foods along with the clams.
In all, it was a great night that didn't end until about two in the morning. Even then, for most, it wasn't ending. The group party might've been, but the couples were just getting started.
Trina is holding her third full beer in her hand, a long neck against her shawl, "So, Tom, where are you going after this?" She asks in an amused tone, tilting her head a bit to wait for his answer.
Smirking, his once bare upper half now covered with a button up shirt – unbuttoned, he answers, "I don't know, Trina, where would you like?" and tips his fourth beer to his lips.
Her smile creeps up on her face before she glances back toward a little shack on the beach, "Is it empty?" She asks, biting her lower lip hard and looking back at him again.
Quickly catching her drift, he throws her a bit of a smirk before nodding and wrapping his arm around her waist, standing up with her and heading off to the shack.
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Her bikini top doesn't last long with his greedy hands pulling at it, almost immediately it falls to the floor beneath them without care. His hands are slipping through the sides of her bottoms, his palms scraping gently at her soft thighs while the material is rubbing on the backs of his wrists. She wants him to just take them off of her because her drunkenness her making her impatient.
"Tom..." She breathes, bringing her hands from his biceps and rubbing her palms against her lower abdomen, her fingertips in the hem of her bottoms. She's trying to blatantly tell him to just rip them off, but he's not listening, apparently, because he just kisses her as though to shut her up.
Not that she's complaining about the feel of his mustache on her skin, but she wants those damn bottoms off. He's just being too slow. Way too slow.
She's growing agitated with him, finally deciding to just take his swim shorts off, untying them and letting them slip down. She sticks her hand down into the hem of his underwear, sliding her palm down against his skin and spreading her middle and ring fingers to let his member slip through the opening. She works that way a few times up and down before finally playing with him, taking him fully in her hand.
His lips part to let a groan out, falling away from hers and breaking the kiss. It caught him by surprise, that's for sure. She's not sure why it did, though, because he should know by now how irritated she is and sexually frustrated.
"Tom..." She finally whispers again, "I think we've both been waiting for each other all night. I think we're both ready." She says, suggesting not-so-subtly that there's no more foreplay needed, that she just needs him. And all of him.
He must agree, because he's finally taking those soaked bikini bottoms down her legs (though they've been out of the water for hours now...) and tossing them to the side, near her top somewhere, probably. They stumble around a bit as he tries to pull his underwear off, and she finally yanks them down just like she did his shorts. Quick, simple, and easier than he was trying to make it.
Her hand immediately starts working at his length, rubbing his shaft up and down and rubbing over his tip, noticing this time that he has no foreskin. It makes her smile at that little thought since she hasn't ever paid attention to most men other than Luke. But maybe this is one of the men she'll really enjoy.
It's not much longer until now he's been driven wild just as she has, and he's grabbing underneath her ass to pick her up and hoist her onto his hips, sliding himself straight into her.
A slick popping sound echoes through the room as her folds part and she's being intruded, her head leans back and her arms hold onto his neck. He's muttering something about how amazingly wet she is, how he's never known a woman could be so soaked. But she really isn't listening, she's just focusing on his hard cock inside of her and her throbbing clit that's really needing attention.
Her hand rubs down her body and finds the throbbing little bundle of nerves, rubbing at it as he lifts her up and sets her down a few times.
It's not working for either of them. She's not overly large – a pretty normal size – but in muscular strength he isn't all that average, a little below, most likely. So he turns them, presses her against the wall instead of him, and starts moving in and out of her that way.
Ahhh...that feels so good. He's hitting that spot already – already finding that spot is something that's making her mind spin even more. Her head hits the wall with a hard thud, letting out yet another moan and trying to keep herself under a little more control than this right now. But she can't, damn it. She can't find that control.
And she knows he can't either, because the angle and the strength that he's pounding into her is going to make them both come in short moments, yelling and screaming each other's names.
She's already fluttering, every muscle in her body is contracting. Even her jaws and screwed together, her eyes tightly shut. The build up is harsh, overly dramatized by the amount of alcohol they've had. The way his cock jerks inside of her, the feeling of her wetness and his pre-cum dripping down her ass...
Ah! "Damn..." She hisses, falling forward and then quickly contracting backward, jerking in his arms as she reaches her climax. She's floating on clouds, hovering over oceans and crashing over the waves. The head spinning hasn't stopped, and another waves seers through her when she feels him pull out and release onto the floor, not thinking a thing about the mess that'll leave for someone.
She starts sliding down with her lips on his lips, moaning as her jello-like legs try to hold her weight but unfortunately fail, needing his shoulders to hold on to. Her eyes finally meet his when the kiss breaks, "I swear that was like my first time ever." She whispers, her head pounding now instead of spinning. She still feels light and feathery, though, except for her legs. Her legs still feel like twigs trying to hold a boulder up.
His nod is in agreement to her statement of the first time thing. "I feel the same way." He tells her, but her stomach flips and she wonders if he tells that to all the girls or if it's just her.
She regains herself a little, her legs gaining strength in them again and her hand letting go of his shoulders. "Well, Captain Decker...until next time, I suppose." She says, gathering her clothes and picking them up into her arms.
She feels ashamed as she picks each one up. She's never felt ashamed before, but this time she feels dirty and...unclean. She knows he's been with many women...it makes her wonder if he's with someone and he's cheating on her with herself.
Those thoughts all pause when she feels a hand on her back, though, and she stands straight up and faces him again. "Trina." He says softly, "Didn't you like that?" He asks, a certain amount of concern ringing in his husky tone.
She wants to say yes, she wants to do it again. She wants to kiss him and fuck him like that again, but she feels disgusted with herself for some reason, and she doesn't know why. So she shakes her head and shrugs, "Yes...but I should be getting home. We both have to work in the morning." She lies, and she immediately regrets it. He'll obviously knows that it's a lie, Trina.
"We don't work tomorrow." He counters, reaching out for her arm again. "Tri, what's wrong?"
She looks back up at him again and frowns, finally just going to get on with it and asks, "How many other women have you said that to? And how many women will you say that to between now and the next time we have some stupid little horny expedition?" She asks, her voice choking. "Three weeks ago I suggested that we meet in your hotel room. Twenty minutes ago, I suggested that we go to this shack. But two weeks ago, a few days after our hotel visit, how many women did you suggest for them to fuck you?"
He's slightly taken aback by her language, which he really shouldn't be. But he steps closer to her and takes her cheek in the palm of his hand. "I haven't had sex since that time in the hotel. And now this."
"Is this what we are?" She asks immediately, and again, immediately regretting it. "Because...I...I'm not sure if I'm ready for a relationship. For anything other than...this. But if this is what we're doing, I still don't want you screwing around...especially with no condom."
He sighs and runs fingers through his hair, "If we are going to be this and I'm not allowed to be with others, then I'm going to make it official."
"Why? Just so you can insure that you'll have me any time and be able to screw me?"
He grimaces at her and grits his teeth around a little in his mouth, "No, Tri, because I actually like you. We've become friends, have we not?"
She looks down and hugs her clothes over her breasts, shrugging, "I suppose." She says, still irritated about him saying Tri instead of Trina for the second time.
Tom nods and keeps rubbing her cheek, "We have sex, we like sex with each other, and we're good friends. So why not just take it to the next step?" He asks, shaking his head in confusion.
Her eyes meet his again but quickly go away, pushing past him to exit. She goes around to the other side of the shack, seriously hoping that no one else was out here, and getting dressed quickly. Guess I'll walk home.
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She spends the next day in her apartment. It's rainy, gray, and downright depressing. She tries to not think of last night, but her thoughts keep going back to it. To him. It.
Her head finally had stopped pounding around 11:00. She has eaten lunch and almost a whole pint of ice cream straight from the bucket.
She's watched plenty of movies and too much TV, and it's only 5:00. She has run out of things to do, and it's quite boring.
After she gets up and puts the ice cream away, she goes over to the phone and calls the nail salon, making an appointment for a new set. She hasn't had a set in probably a year, but she has a good enough job, now, that she can afford them again. She tells the woman that she would like to come in as soon as possible, so she schedules it for thirty minutes from now and gets dressed.
Yes, she's stayed in her pajamas all day.
She drives to the nail salon and waits for a few minutes before the tech calls her back. Smalltalk, hellos, and then she gets to the nails.
"So, what would you like today?" She asks, her name is Mel. She has a strong Chicago accent and Trina can tell she's been here most of her life, if not all of it.
She thinks for a moment and contorts her lips left and right, "Ah, I think I would just like some red. Bright red." She says, and continues, "Something sexy." in a playful and quiet tone.
The older woman winks at her and gathers her acrylic supplies, then gets out the red polish. "Do you have a date?" She asks, cleaning Trina's nails off from the last bit of polish she has.
"No...well, I don't think so." She replies and shrugs, "I have to keep up my appearance. Flight attendant's don't always have the easiest job when it comes to judgmental people."
"Ah, say no more." Mel says, seeming to understand. "My sister was a flight attendant," She starts explaining, except sister sounded like sista, "She was always worried about her appearance. Though, she was the skinniest little bitch in all of Chicago and she had every man she ever wanted." She says matter-of-factly and shrugs like it was nothing. "I was obviously always jealous of her."
Trina frowns and breaks her smile, "Well why? I'm sure you were just as beautiful?"
"Oh honey, don't trick yourself." Mel says and laughs, shaking her head.
Trina takes her free hand and digs through her purse, grabbing a cigarette and slipping it through her lips, lighting it up after Mel's head was down. She'd always felt bad about it, but another nail tech once told her that no one really minds it, so now Trina doesn't think twice.
She huffs on it a bit and talks with it in the side of her lips, "I'm not tricking." She says and looks up and away at all the women in here.
The stupid thing about this "horny little adventure" - in her words from last night – with Tom, is that she can't stop wondering if she knows anybody that he's screwed. Other than Patty. She knows that Patty's been in bed with him, too. She just wishes she could forget about him, but the hickey's going down her chest that she sees every time she's in the shower quickly reminds her that he's been a part of her that she just won't be able to forget.
"Alright, are you gettin' over a breakup, doll?" Mel asks, studying Tri's nails as she starts the acrylics. "You're awful quiet over there."
It pulls her from her studying of the other women, and she takes a huff of her cigarette again, letting it go and laying her cheek over on her shoulder, "I suppose you could say it was a breakup. We were never exactly together."
"Flight attendants are known for that too."
"That?" Trina asks, taken aback by her rude comment. Though it was true.
Mel looks up just long enough to give her an unamused expression. "C'mon, sweetie, they're well known for it. It's not like I haven't slept around either. Tell me, get it off your chest."
"You're a complete stranger." Trina answers, laughing a bit and shaking her head. "I can't just tell my new nail tech about my-" She stops herself from using the term horny adventures. She also makes a mental note that she needs to stop calling it that in her mind, so it won't accidentally come out at another time. "About my night life."
"Fine, think of me as that idiotic aunt that no one really likes but can help you anyway?" She answers, shrugging as the smell of the nails is beginning to come up.
Trina rolls her eyes and looks back down at her nails. "Yeah, we...have been together...twice. And last night I asked him how many other women he said all the lovey shit to and he just...never gave me a straight answer. He says he hasn't done it with anyone since our first time but...he has a freaking reputation." Trina says, letting all her upset feelings come out on this poor woman. "I mean, what was I thinking anyway? Everyone even told me that he has a reputation. I should've known not to get involved with a coworker and...a guy that has that reputation. But I did and now I can't get the bastard out of my head."
She's pretty sure Mel was shocked by her language, but she didn't act like she minded. She just wasn't expecting it from someone in such petite and nice form. "Well, maybe you don't need to get him out of your head. Be friends with him. Date him a little and see, then, if he's with other women. You'll be able to find out."
She sighs and looks down, shrugging and wishing the conversation would end. "Yeah." She replies, pursing her lips and biting the bottom one, getting red lipstick on the back of her teeth.
But, again, her mind won't stop thinking and this woman does want to help. "He gave me clams. I hate clams. It was a clambake on the beach and-"
"Tom Decker? That's who you're with?" Mel asks in surprise, "Oh honey, you don't want to mess with him. No. Besides, clams are aphrodisiacs. They turn your sex drive up."
Trina sighs and purses her lips again, "Well, it doesn't surprise me. How do you know him?"
"He's my son." She says and frowns, "Hate to admit it sometimes just because he f's with so many poor girls."
She chuckles at the way she says it. He does "f" with a bunch of girls, including her. "Yeah..." She says and sighs, "I guess aviation is just in your family then, huh?"
She nods and lets her the liquid on her nails dry. "Yeah, guess so." She says and shrugs.
Most of the time spent, now, was in silence. It was kind of awkward in some points, but Trina did at least forget a while about Tom. When she finishes, she only charges half price. But Trina knew it was supposed to be more, so she gave her a "tip" to make up for the rest of it, adding, "Just because you're his mom, doesn't mean I have any resentment toward you." and shrugs, holding her hand up and looking at her nails, "I mean, you gave me this beautiful set of nails so...I can't be mad at you." She says and chuckles while Mel nods.
"I suppose you're very right. Just...don't get caught up with him. He'll break your heart."
He already has.
