AN: Here's a Merry Christmas chapter :) my wifi has been out this past week and isn't expected to be back until at least this Saturday. So see y'all again soon! Enjoy and don't forget to review please!

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Eggnog. The last ingredient on her grocery list.

She hates grocery shopping with a passion, but when it's going just to get things for a Christmas party and things for mixed Christmassy drinks, she's sort of okay with it. It only makes it slightly better when she knows she'll be making "Frosty Noggins" for about thirty people later this evening (consisting of eggnog, vanilla ice cream, rum, and white crème de cacao). Yes, slightly better indeed.

She grabs a few containers of the eggnog and crosses it off of her paper list. "Okay." She breathes to herself, sighing softly and biting her lip as she double checks just to make sure she isn't missing anything. (She doesn't want to come back again, that's for sure. She may send Tom if she has to come back...ever).

Nodding once, she starts pushing the cart and walking without even looking up. She accidentally runs into Michelle, a nice woman of color. "Oh, hi." She says, a soft smile falling onto her lips. "Sorry I ran into you...I've just been trying to prepare for tonight. It's my first party in...a while." She admits with a little chuckle.

Michelle smiles at her, shaking her head, "It's fine...I understand." She says. Michelle has always been nice to Trina. She didn't know her very well until Tom's party at the beach. She and Anthony, her husband, are good friends of Tom's from when Tom was learning to be a pilot. Anthony, also, took the class, but ended up never getting his license and pursuing a different career in law. "At least I know the party will be great." She coos, smiling again as she sees the rum in the shopping cart.

Trina looks down with a grin, "Oh, definitely. Have you ever known Tom to have a party without alcohol?" She asks, laughing a little.

After some more small-talk with Michelle, she hurries to the check out line (after checking her grocery list one last time) so she can get back in time to prepare everything for their Christmas party. Their Christmas party. When Tom first pitched the idea, Trina loved it, but then she quickly realized he kept saying their party. She had asked him about a week ago, what exactly he meant – whether he was just meaning it different or whether he actually saw it as theirs.

"Well, you practically live here...it should be our party, right?" Was his answer. She's done a lot of thinking in that short week, and now, most of her things are at his apartment. Maybe she likes this a little more than she was originally thinking she would. But also, still that twinge of anxiety keeps pecking at her heart.

When she arrives to the apartment, she smiles a little at the sight of it all nicely decorated. Tom always has decorated for the holidays nicely, especially for a man. Most men aren't great at decorating a bedroom in usual circumstances, let alone in holiday circumstances. She has always guessed that his mom has something to do with him having a nice taste in design. She's never asked.

He's away at the airport, doing some paperwork that he's let go accidentally. Last minute things. She's beyond thankful that their crew has the weekend of Christmas off. It means that she gets to spend Christmas Eve with him, in his apartment, and Christmas morning with him, in his apartment, and Christmas day with him and his mother and his aunt and his family. Family. She wants to meet his family...

She shakes that thought from her head as she grabs the grocery items out of the bags and sets them on the counter top. Christmas songs are spinning on the record player, and she finds herself humming along slightly to them as she starts the preparation for the drink making. She's leaving the cooking to Tom (mostly because of the last holiday disaster – Thanksgiving dinner at his moms).

Checking the clock on the wall, she sees that people should start coming over in about an hour and a half, or so. Sometimes people will come early to these things, sometimes they show up late. You never know. She looks at it again, Tom should be home any minute, hopefully. The food needs started, even if it is just little finger foods such as pigs in a blanket and caramel corn...things that are, really, quite easy if you know how to cook at all. She should know how to do this stuff.

Once she finishes her preparations for the Frosty Noggins, she looks in the refrigerator and grabs the packs of little sausages that go in the "blankets" made of dough. She stares at them for way too long, wondering...thinking...doubting...doubting. More doubt, and more doubt, and then she's ripping the bag open and dumping those little things out on a plate. She takes one in her hand, studying it as well, and finally lays it back down with the others. She huffs to herself, swallowing thickly before turning to the fridge and grabbing the dough he had made last night. You can do this, Trina. This is your first step. She keeps the pep talk going as she cuts the dough into strips, making it the size to wrap around the little weiners.

She smirks to herself as she picks up the sausage she had earlier, studying it again. "Tom would get a kick out of this." She whispers to herself, chuckling a bit as she wraps the dough around the sausage in her fingers. Reminds her of something all too dirty.

One after one, she's wrapped the sausages in the dough perfectly and making herself quite proud at the same time. Maybe she should learn to cook more. She kind of likes the feeling.

As the pan is in the oven for the amount of time suggested on the package of sausages (she didn't notice it before, but it gives a full recipe for the dough and everything on the side of the package for the pigs in a blanket! Nifty.), she hears the door open and she turns to see Tom walking through. She smiles big and warm, taking the little apron off that she had been wearing. "Hey." She says softly, keeping the warmness in her smile as he walks to her and kisses her cheek. "How was paperwork?"

"Horrible." He answers, a sad chuckle following. "And it took way longer than I had thought...which means I don't have as much time to fix the-"

"Pigs in a blanket?" She asks, pointing toward the empty bag of sausages in the trash can. She gives him the same proud smile that she had earlier when she saw them all finished (before cooking them, of course), "I made them. I actually...cooked something. And it's not burning yet." She chuckles, biting her lip as she awaits his response.

He looks over at the oven, just now realizing that it's on and has been on for a while. "Not burning?" He asks, a brow raised.

She chuckles sadly and steps over while in his arms, opening the oven door for him to see. "Not burning." She confirms. "They should be done in..." She pauses and looks over at the clock again, then nods, "In about three minutes or so."

Looking back into his eyes, she sees the pride in them. She can't see his eyes anymore, suddenly, because hers are closed and his lips are meeting hers for a loving kiss. He pulls away slowly, "I'm so proud of you, Tri." He whispers, kissing her nose in a loving manner and smiling at her. "So proud."

She smiles shyly, feeling an awkward sense fall over her as she steps away from him and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Thank you..." She says softly, "I, ah, I was hoping you would be proud. I...I suppose since we're sort of living together that I should learn to cook."

He laughs a little bit, nodding, "I suppose you should." He teases, kissing the top of her head. "Now I'll get onto the caramel corn." He announces, stepping over to the counter, "Wanna help?" He asks softly.

Thinking for a moment, she sighs and acts uninterested, "Hm, sure..." She coos, walking over to the grocery bags. "I suppose." She smirks when she looks over her shoulder to see him staring at her.

He slinks over to her, wrapping his fingers around her waist and gently pressing her back to the counter. "Are you being coy with me?" He asks playfully, bringing his other hand to her head and running gentle fingers through the curls above her ear. He smiles when she looks down and is about to speak, "Mm, don't answer that, actually." He whispers and leans down to kiss her, bringing both hands down to around her ass and underneath. He clamps his fingers together and lifts her up onto the counter.

"Oh! Tom!" Trina exclaims, hitting his shoulder. "Stop...we have to finish the caramel corn before everyone gets here." She whispers, looking around as if someone were going to hear her.

He chuckles and takes her chin gently in his fingers, moving her face to look at his smirk. "Who are you whispering for?" He asks, his lips brushing hers with each word. "There's no one here but us."

She leans her forehead onto his and shakes her head softly, smiling down between them, "Why do you have me on the counter?" She asks, though she knew the answer already. She knew he sat her up here for one reason – a good reason. He wanted to take her pants down her legs, throw them over the back of the bar chair – her panties joining short after. He wanted to strip himself of his pants and fuck her senseless right here on this counter where they're supposed to be preparing caramel corn for a party that guests will be showing up to in, oh...fifteen minutes, or so.

Before answering, he leans over to the kitchen radio and turns it on. Tom Jones, She's a Lady – one of his favorite songs. She knows it, so she smirks a bit up to him and runs her fingers gently down his ribs.

Well she knows what I'm about

She can take what I dish out and that's not easy

"I think you know the answer to your own question." He murmurs, a low, husky tone of voice rings through her ears. Chills run down her spine, and she closes her eyes after biting her lower lip softly.

But she knows me through and throughout

Nodding a little, she answers, "I think I do." and then pauses to look up into his eyes, "But we're about to have guests over – very soon, at that, Tom." She warns, a serious expression appearing on her face (even if she didn't want to listen to herself). "I want it as much as you do but-" a kiss interrupts her, and she's distracted momentarily by his tongue sliding over her lower lip. She pulls away and looks up with a devious smirk.

And she knows just what to do and how to please me

"You know how to please me. Even if it is a quickie." He reminds her, smiling as his fingers are roaming around her breast, teasing her skin by dipping into the top of her shirt and swooping back out. "Tri..." He begs, just enough to make her shudder.

She's a lady

"Tom..." She warns again, looking around and letting out a shaky sigh. "I don't want to be caught."

Oh, whoa, whoa she's a la-

There go the pants, and she's lost then. It happens just as she planned in her head, her pants and panties quickly made their way to the back of the chair and his pants are down around his ankles. He makes a baby step forward and leans into her lips with a heavy groan, "Tri..." He murmurs, pulling away only to pull her shirt down slightly, sneaking his fingers into the top of her bra and finding her nipple, giving it a gentle twist. She tries mumbling something about how they shouldn't do this, but he's stopping her by bringing her legs up on his shoulders, letting them rest there as he bends over and places his head between them like it just belongs there.

And her mind right now, it does belong there. When she grabs a fistful of his hair and presses his face harder into her center, she lets out a loud moan of approval. "Okay...we should be doing this. We should." She hisses, her head falling back and one hand quickly moving behind her to support her weight. She feels lightheaded, but then again, she always does when his tongue is working her clit. He always makes her feel like she's floating, just with that damned tongue.

She grips onto his arms as his hands knead (somewhat recklessly) at her upper thighs. They slide up and desperately grips at his shoulders, scraping her nails through his shirt from behind his back, down to his elbows. "Yes..." He whispers against her clit, her breasts practically resting on his head as she's all bent over. She can feel him shudder beneath her and against her, and it makes her eyes close hard.

"Fuck me, Tom...quickly..." She hisses, and she can't hardly finish the sentence before he's standing up and adjusting himself at her entrance. She takes his throbbing cock in her hand, "Let me." She offers, giving a gentle yank and lining him up with her. He almost trips from his pants being around his ankles, and it makes her laugh quietly before leaning into him and pressing her lips to his. "Fuck me, Tom..." She whispers again, right against his lips.

In just a second, she was being filled and letting out a soft whimper. Her fingers grab another fistful of his hair, right at the nape of his neck, and he's mumbling, "How are you always so tight?" as he starts slowly moving in and out of her, his cock moving all the way inside of her before moving back to just his tip.

She doesn't understand it, but maybe it's just good genes. She is always tight, and fuck does it feel good. "Maybe we just don't fuck enough..." She moans, grabbing at his head to bury it into her breasts, leaning down a bit to kiss all down his neck and shoulder.

"Is that an invitation to do this more often?"

She huffs and smirks at him, murmuring, "Since when do you need an invitation?" and leaving a few marks down his chest for good measure. He doesn't answer this time, too immersed in finding her clit with his fingers. She can feel him getting close already, it reminds her of a teenage boy. He's not lasting long, but she can't blame him. They're both rushing.

Her head is leaned back when he moans, "I'm about to come, Tri..." and brings his hands to her breasts to knead at them.

She momentarily looks down between them at his cock getting faster, going in and out of her. She thinks for a second, and then lets out a quiet sigh. She moans, and suddenly it becomes completely fake. "Mmm, yes, Tom..." She moans, clenching around him on purpose and letting out a sharp cry before he empties out inside of her.

His smile is big – a little bit of male pride, maybe, for making her cry out like that, but he doesn't have a bit of realization that she completely faked it. His kiss is warm and sweet as he reaches over for her pants and panties, helping her put her shirt back on. "Thanks for agreeing to a quickie." He whispers, quickly kissing her one more time before pulling his pants up.

She hops off the counter with a hand from him, then goes off to the bathroom with cum dripping down her leg. She rinses off a little bit in the bathroom and looks out the door, watching him happily make caramel corn. It made her heart break that she just lied to him over an orgasm, but she just wanted to be able to give him pleasure before getting caught. It felt good, but there wasn't enough time. She was never good at quickies.

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"He sure is a happier man with you in his life, Trina." Michelle states, smiling over at the her.

Trina feels her heart warm, even though her throat and stomach is cold from the amount of Frosty Noggin she's drinking at the moment. She knows to take it as a compliment, because Michelle has known Tom for quite a while now. Tom attended Anthony and Michelle's wedding, even. Nodding, she shifts her weight and looks in to see him in the living room with the other guests. "This is our first Christmas together." She states, not wanting to add on to what Michelle had said. "Our first Thanksgiving didn't go over too well, as you know..."

She can tell that the other woman is trying not to laugh, and she just nods, "Mhm, I heard about the fiasco." She says, laughing a little bit now that she just can't hold it in. "But I think it drew you two closer, didn't it?" She asks, taking a sip at her drink.

Nodding, she looks back at Michelle again and leans against the counter (the one he just fucked her against. Yes, that counter.) "I think you're right, it probably did. I know it made me feel better about his family. I had this...high expectation I made up in my head that they were expecting. Or that I imagined they expected. In reality, they didn't care how dorky I ended up being. I'm sophisticated to a certain point, but when I try to be..." She sighs, "I fail. Horribly, too."

Michelle can only laugh and shake her head before replying, "Tom and Mel are two very special people. His dad is special, too, but Mel is just spectacular. They aren't...sophisticated people."

"Oh I know." Trina answers, looking down into her drink that she's swirling around. "I just was nervous, I guess."

The other woman pats her wrist softly, "Well, I'm glad you got over your jitters."

Trina smiles up at her a little, "Thank you, Michelle. It means a lot from you."

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The party died down, the drinks got put away and the caramel corn pan were sticky – but empty. Everyone had gone to their homes for the night, preparing for the next day of Christmas Eve. Trina and Tom spent the day together, lying around, watching movies and eating the little bit of caramel corn that Tom had set aside for themselves. Now, the night of Christmas Eve, they're still in the same position they'd been all day. Wrapped in each other, Trina leaning against his chest, and watching Rudolph.

The movie was just ending, and she cranes her neck to look up at him, "Can I give you your present tonight? One of your presents?" She asks, batting her sleepy eyes as she awaits his answer.

He nods softly, yawning a little bit. "Yeah, sure." He says, "As long as I can give you one of your presents."

With a smile, she nods and stands up, walking tiredly to the Christmas tree with the presents that have been wrapped. When she leans down, he gives a coy whistle because his shirt comes up and shows her ass – even though it was still covered by flannel pajamas. She looks back with a playful grimace, "Oh stop." She teases, "We're not doing this on Christmas Eve."

He smiles at her, blows her a playful kiss, and then gets up and grabs her present, too. They sit down right there in front of the tree and hand each other the small, wrapped up boxes. "You first." He says, pressing the present against her leg softly as he looks in her eyes.

Taking it in her hand, she grins at him shyly. "This is the first year that I've ever had a boyfriend who gave me presents."

"What about Luke...?"

She snorts a sad laugh, "He was too cheap." She admits, smiling up at him before unwrapping the present carefully. She takes the box into her hand, and it's a deep blue, velvet box, longer than a ring (thankfully). She opens it, but her eyes are fixated up at him with a small smile. "I'm glad it's not a ring." She admits, looking down finally.

He smiles back at her and his eyes drift down to the box as she opens it, "Not yet." He whispers, she only hears it halfway.

The jewelry in the box was a gorgeous, silver necklace, "Oh, Tom...this is beautiful." She says, picking it up from the box and examining it. The Christmas lights on the tree make it glisten so beautifully. Once she realizes how long she's been staring at it, she looks up at him with a big smile, "Thank you, Tom. This...this is beautiful."

His smile is big, too, and he nods. "You're more than welcome, Tri. You deserve it."

She swallows thickly as she hands it to him, turning around slightly so he can clasp it around her. Once he's finished, she strokes it lovingly. "Beautiful." She whispers again, completely in awe that he would give her such a nice piece of jewelry. She halfway expected him to be silly, since she would normally be the one giving nice things and he would give her something goofy. Now she turns to him and coaxes him to open hers, "Okay, your turn."

He smiles at her again and unwraps it, picking the shirt up out of the paper. "Oh I love it." He says, chuckling softly.

She smirks, "You do?" She says, "Sorry you gave me something so nice and yours is silly..."

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. I love this." He says, putting it up and resting it on his chest. It says, my girlfriend is cooler than yours. Nodding, he lays it down and leans forward to kiss her. "Yep. It's perfect." He smiles, kissing her again.

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"There's the mistletoe." Mel teases Trina.

She's spent the whole day with she and Tom at Mel's place. Exchanging presents, eating wonderful, homemade food (thanks to Mel and Tom. Trina took no participation this time), and just talking and enjoying each other's company.

Trina laughs and shakes her head, "We don't need mistletoe. We kiss enough..." She teases back, nudging his mother on the arm playfully and popping a deviled egg into her mouth. She picks up her drink once Tom comes back from the bathroom, "I'd like to make a toast." She states, "To family."

Tom looks at her, slightly dumbfounded, and Mel lifts her drink up to Trina's, "To family." She says, waiting for Tom to follow them.

Once he picks his drink up, it makes Trina feel better about her toast. He smiles, nods, and lifts his drink to clink theirs, "To family." He says, "Merry Christmas."

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