Hi all!
Let me know how you like this chapter, please! I'm sorry it's taken sooooo ridiculously long to update but I also write a story called "Disappeared" and got really hooked on that for a while, then I got new glasses and couldn't see a thing with them. Glasses are all I wear at night, night is when I do my computer stuff, so therefore...I couldn't see.
Sorry!
To sort of make up for my absence, here's a fun fact:
In the story, the year Trina was born in is the year 1950. This is set in the year 1971, only five short years before what we see on the show!
Enjoy!
G.
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"Captain Decker." She simply says, to the point and snippy while handing over his coffee mug.
As soon as he takes it from her hand, she turns on her heel and exits the small cockpit and back out into the pantry part where Patty stands. She doesn't want to give him the chance, even to speak. Still.
She studies her nails quietly, the room definitely has that so-called elephant in it, and she sighs quietly. She's already chipped one of her nails after only a week of having them on (due to a pesky customer on the flight needing help with a bottle top). But it's one more excuse to go talk to Mel again, which is always a good thing. The only problem is – she doesn't have any time to unless it's after work (6:00, usually) and the nail shop closes at 6:00. She's hoping she can possibly guilt Mel into staying just fifteen minutes later so she can just fill her nail in, because she knows she'll have this hectic schedule for at least another week.
"Red?" Patty observes, looking at her nails. "A bit scandalous, don't you think?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.
Trina hates Patty, so far. She had the completely wrong observation of her when she first met the blonde. She thought she was polite and shy, but instead she's just silently judging you in her head all the time and then bitches about whatever she's stood in the corner and stewed over. "I am a bit scandalous, Patty." She counters in a tone that shows she's far less than amused.
Patty simply huffs and turns to grab a Coca-Cola while Trina walks out and into the stewardess' seats that face backward, pressed up against the cockpit. She looks at the couples on the plane and it sickens her. Completely sickens her. Some are holding hands, some have children. That'll never be me, she thinks in her head.
She's always had that mentality. The one that says she'll never get married, never have kids...and never have more of a relationship than just sex. Ever. That's what's torn her up this past week about what she said to Tom, now, because why did she blow up on him? All he wanted was sex and that's all she wanted too, she just didn't want him with other women and he didn't like that unless they turned their ordeal into an actual relationship.
Trina won't be controlled; if she doesn't want a relationship, she's not going to have one. And she doesn't want one, so she's not going to have one.
Among everything else going on in her life right now, she's saving up to buy a car. This job pays exuberantly more than her previous one did and she has more money that she can gather up out of each paycheck to put away and just keep. She's glad for that. It makes up for this bouge crew she has to work with.
She's looked at a few car lots, but most everyone wants to sell her something that she has to pay for months and months on. She doesn't want a car payment monthly, she wants a cash deal. And like usual, she'll get what she wants. "Or – there's always the alternative." They suggest, those sleazy, greasy car salesman, as they look down her body.
She has to refrain from slapping all of them.
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Because of the wind and rainy conditions, the landing back in Chicago is the bumpiest she's ever experienced on a jet plane. It's ridiculous, and she was about to go in and yell at Tom. What good would that do, though, when it's because of the weather? (Still, she wanted to blame him).
When everyone has evacuated the plane and she's finished cleaning it all up with Patty, she gathers her things and is trying to rush out so she can call Mel and see if she can make an exception appointment.
Until a hand wraps around her arm and catches her from exiting the airport.
She huffs, and after a second she states, "Tom, I'm not-"
"It's not Tom." A voice says, one that she recognizes well. "It's Rex." Ahh, the co-pilot. "I just wanted to catch you before you left." He says and sighs, "I, ah, wanted to know if you maybe wanted to meet up for dinner or something tonight?"
"Dinner?" She asks, turning around and actually taking a moment to consider it before she just tells this stunning man in front of her a hasty yes. The very handsome co-pilot. "A nice dinner?"
He nods, and her smirk creeps up. "And I'm just saying, I have much less than good intentions with you afterward." He says and it makes her smile grow, her teeth trying to keep her lips under control by biting down on them.
Maybe this is what she needs. Maybe she needs a good way to get over Tom. And what's better than a night in bed, all hot and sweaty and tangled together, with this beautifully carved man standing in front of her? "Maybe we'll just skip dinner and get straight to the fun part?" She flirts, knowing she needs to say something or he may think she's uninterested.
His grin is smug as he nods, "Well just maybe." He says, smiling fully. "I'll pick you up at seven?"
She nods, gives him the directions to her apartment, then grabs her little rolling bag that she takes on the planes with her and rolls it out into the parking lot to catch a cab.
Once she's in, she takes her shoes off and leans against the back of the seat. "Where to, young lady?" The cabbie asks.
"Home," She breathes, sitting up straight and telling him where exactly home is.
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Red dress, low cleavage; black dress, off the shoulder and tight, down to the floor; royal blue dress, sparkly (not enough to look like a hooker), halter top, low cleavage.
So many decisions.
She's holding each one up to her body in front of the mirror, trying to decide. She hasn't been this unnerved about a date in a while – since her first real date with Luke.
That night was perfect. She had just gotten her hair permed (thanks to her mother, who at the time she wasn't thrilled about going with to the hair salon), and she'd also just gotten a new dress. She was only sixteen, and the dress spent most of it's time that night in the floor of his Chevy. That was a good, first official date.
Maybe I should just wear the one that's easiest to get off? She finally thinks to herself, remembering what Rex had said about "less than good intentions afterward".
She's decided on the red dress. It's not tight, it's perfect amount of cleavage will have him wanting her through the whole dinner, and she has a new pair of heels she hasn't hardly worn that'll go perfectly with the attire.
By the time she's finished playing dress-up, fixing her make up (only for it to be messed up a little while later).
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He's picked her up like he said (at 6:55...punctual), they've eaten dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in Chicago, and now they're heading somewhere. She's not real sure where, though, until he speaks up.
Rex speaks up as they're approaching the road to go to Trina's apartment complex, stating, "Well, my apartment has a king size bed...does your have a queen?"
She looks over, her lips parted slightly before she bites her lower one to try and hide a smirk, "It's a king." She says, "Besides, I didn't pack my uniform." She shrugs and finally lets her smirk show.
He matches her expression, winking at her quickly and nodding before turning onto her road. "I didn't know if you...like...kept condoms around so I brought some." He says, shrugging.
She finds it a little odd...he's not doing so well at getting her horny if that's what he's trying to do. This wasn't working at all. She's not completely sure what to say, but she makes an awkward attempt at a reply, "I keep some in my bathroom cabinet." then looks forward as he pulls into the parking spot.
She waits a moment for him to come open her door, then after a few seconds she steps out, feeling a bit unwanted by him. Once he realizes he didn't open the door for her he apologizes, but it still leaves a bit of a sore spot in Trina's mind.
Inside her apartment on the second floor, they're already kissing, grabbing, groping – so heatedly, too, that her head has already slammed into the wall and his tongue was down her throat in the elevator.
She's not sure how it got this far, but she doesn't really care. It only crosses her mind once before he hikes her up onto his waist and presses her body against the wall. She's trying to speak, trying to gather her thoughts to speak. She can only breathe out, "R-Rex, next door..." so that he'll hopefully take them to the bedroom. Though, he doesn't get the hint until she moves her arm to tap that way against the wall.
He stumbles around like an overly drunken man to the bed – though they only had a few drinks; he must not take alcohol very well. When his knees hit the mattress, he bends over in a falling manner and she slams on the bed, her legs still wrapped tightly around his thighs.
Clothes are being ripped off. It's not romantic in the slightest, but it's hungry and desperate. He feels hungrier than her, but it's his aura that's rubbing off on Trina and making her just as fierce.
They've made an un-discussed, mutual decision to forget the condom. He knows what to do, and so does she...(murder him if he doesn't pull out). The reason they've skipped that step is because his cock his already rubbing against her folds, making her moan and squirm underneath him and on top of the comforter.
Her fingernails scrape slowly down his muscular back, making him shudder and bend at the small of his back, moving into her more. She closes her eyes as he puts more weight on her, unwrapping her legs around him and straddling them wide. The only reason she opens her eyes again is because she feels his fingers making slick noises on the way to being inside of her.
And oh, does only his fingers feel good.
She grabs onto the back of his neck and arches her back, her breasts growing closer to his face and her nipples hardening into little buds. "Damnit." She hisses, clenching her eyes shut and biting down hard on her lip. She regrets the lip thing, though, because she's almost positive it'll leave a nasty little bruise for tomorrow.
"You feel so good." He whispers, his breathing becoming heavier. She feels like she's being touched by a complete animal, and hell, maybe she is being touched by a complete animal. Hopefully he fucks like one, too.
Reaching between them to find his erection, she grabs it and gently strokes the tip with her thumb. "Oh do I?" She whispers back to him, opening one eye before letting out an unexpected moan when he adds a third finger inside of her. "Damn, Rex..." She murmurs under her breath, clenching that eye shut again before she curls her toes up and feels her stomach churning.
The heat that's becoming hotter and hotter in her stomach is making her desperate for a release. She brings her other hand down between them, laying her middle and index finger on her clit and rubbing in small circles. Shortly, she was crying out in pleasure after receiving that wonderful, beautiful release, "Ah!"
Rex shifts on top of her, moving so that he can take both of her thighs and rest his hands on them. She moans a little as her stomach contracts – no, every muscle in her body contracts – and he's already positioning himself to slide inside of her.
She holds him back, pressing her hand against his chest. "Wait a moment, Rex." She breathes out, still completely breathless from the high she was just on.
He's inexperienced. Maybe not as inexperienced as Luke was their first time, but most certainly not as experienced as Tom. And she's regretting not asking him how much he's had, just because she's hoping she's not going to be sore from him hurting her. Hopefully he knows how to actually fuck.
When she takes her hand away again, he wastes no time in sliding inside of her. He waits, thankfully, and waits for her okay to start. It takes her a moment, not necessarily because she's trying to adjust, but more because she's still trying to calm her breathing from the way his fingers made her feel. Finally, when she gives him the okay, he starts moving in and out of her.
Slow, smooth, and slick...fuck. He's better than she expected him to be, and he's already deep enough to find that spot. Already attempting to find it, and damn does it feel good. "Faster, Rex..." She whispers, realizing how hard it actually is to say his name without whispering it. Her heart is racing and her mind is swirling with beautiful afterglow of an orgasm – thanks to his fingers – and she can't hardly focus to even open her eyes.
He takes his order well, moving faster in and out of her. He's not being rough, he's being gentle but it feels like he's pounding that spot like a drumstick to a snare, making her whole body rattle and jolt. "Fuck..." She hisses, digging the top of her head into the bed underneath her.
She grabs onto her calves, pulling her legs back that were wanting to close on him due to the buildup of another orgasm, gritting her teeth as it rushes over her and she falls limp to the bed for the second time in only a short while.
This will be a great night. She can tell already.
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Saturday comes and Trina is at work, bright and early, 6:30 AM – like always. Even if she does have a hangover and still have sex legs from the way Rex took her so many times last night. She keeps thinking, on the way there, that she should've recorded it and showed it to Tom, just for spite. For kicks, maybe. Then she thinks maybe that would take it too far...but maybe not. Maybe Rex can come back for some play time tonight – maybe tomorrow – and the recorder can come out then.
Maybe.
The cabbie takes her money she owes him, and she grabs her rolling bag that she takes with her onto the plane and goes into the airport to report for duty.
Her eyes spot him immediately, standing right there at the door, just waiting for her. He's leaned up against it like Luke used to do on the lockers or on the side of his '57, crossing his arms and looking...cool. She scoffs and rolls her eyes at that, annoyed with her own thoughts. Tom Decker is the opposite of cool.
"Trina." He says when she makes it to the door, even though she wished so strongly that there was another entrance for the flight crew (maybe she'll put that one in at the next meeting). "This...this ignoring thing isn't working." Tom says, reaching out for her arm.
She stops when he has his fingers around her bicep, looking down in disgust at his hand. She sets her bag down on the ground and brushes his hand off with her free hand, slowly looking up into his eyes. "Get your hands off." She hisses in his face, close enough to smell what he's had for breakfast – eggs. "Don't talk to me, either. We are strictly only members of the same crew, even if that is an unfortunate thing." She grumbles while retrieving her bag from the ground, standing up straight and fixing her tight skirt.
But he's consistent, insisting on talking to her, so he grabs her forearm this time. "Tri, please. I want to make it up to you."
"Tom, I am hungover and ridiculously tired. It's 6:25 in the morning and if you don't let me go, I'm going to be late." She finally snaps, giving him the meanest look ever (one she most certainly learned from her mother). "Let...me...go..."
She can see his struggle to make a decision, to tell whether she's really mad or not. Since he can't decide, she looks down and spits on his shiny, black shoe. "I told you to let me go." She says in a lower tone, one that has a bit of a ring of 'murderer' to it.
He immediately huffs out of anger, looking down at his shoe that has a nice little spot of saliva on it, thanks to her.
Through his frustration with her, though, she can't help but smirk and comment again, "I'm the one who brings you your coffee every day. You may not want to make enemies out of me, Captain." And once again, she takes her strides to the door with pride, with not one bit of humility for him, and with her chin up in the air like she's just won a battle.
Maybe she has, theoretically. This one may be small, in reality, but in her mind she's won a battle that's been going on ever since that night on the beach in the shack – full of clams.
As she walks in on the bright red carpet, her heel gets stuck in one of the threads and she has to stop, just in time for Tom to be walking by. He gives her a look, but keeps walking past her. "Karma." He murmurs, smirking as he walks away.
Maybe she didn't win.
As she boards the plane later that day, she ignores him completely. She even asks Patty to go take Tom his coffee (something that only she does), giving the excuse that she had a pesky customer on the flight. She would slink off when the coffee maker was hot and ready, then come back once she heard the cab door shut.
As they were preparing the food, Patty clears her throat. "So how was Rex?"
"Rex?" Trina asks, getting caught slightly off-guard. She hadn't told anyone about Rex at all, not even Tom (as much as she wanted to rub it in his face, she didn't. Yet). "Have you been experimenting with those damn marijuana brownies again, Patty? You're gonna kill yourself like that. That's bad shit, Patty."
She rolls her eyes, "Not lately, thank you." She snips back at the brunette, looking up from the food momentarily. "Tom doesn't leave hickies on his women and I had a hickey from Rex for a damn week. Same spot as yours, too."
Trina's hand comes up to her neck, her fingers gently tracing her skin as a confused expression falls on her face. Patty shakes her head and goes back to the food, "Try looking on the backside of your neck. He's good at fucking from behind." She smirks, winks, and leaves with a food cart.
Leaves with a food cart, but also leaves with Trina steaming. She can't believe she wouldn't tell her before now, she's been working all day and Patty never said anything. Even Rex could've had the decency to say something about his idiotic little marks.
Begrudgingly and hoping she won't get randomly caught by any of the bosses, she grabs a scarf from her bag that she wears when she rides her bike, wrapping it around her neck and tucking it in her shirt collar a little so it looks more like it was supposed to be there.
At least it matches.
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