Brooke couldn't suppress her giggle as she and Peyton stumbled blindly into the brunette's dark house. It was late, probably midnight or later, but it didn't matter. The only thing that did was the fact that it was Saturday, they were alone, and Peyton was an amazing kisser.

"You're sure no one's here?" Peyton asked, lowering her hungry lips to Brooke's jawline, and then her neck. The brunette moaned and giggled again, pushing Peyton back.

"I'm sure." She promised. She pressed the blonde up the stairs, guiding her slowly up to her bedroom.

"God I've wanted this for so long…" Peyton breathed, savoring the familiar taste that could be nothing other than Brooke. The brunette paused, leaning back against the banister of the stairwell and pulled Peyton hard against her. She giggled again.

"'And now, we can have it.'" She quoted, remembering Peyton's old artwork from a year or two back. Peyton's hands slid beneath Brooke's shirt, holding onto her waist.

"Brooke, shut up." Peyton said, not appreciating the mockery. Brooke laughed again, a deeper, huskier sound this time, and pushed Peyton further up the stairs. She slammed the blonde against the door-jam. "Whoa, there!" Peyton yelped, almost trying to push Brooke off of her then. "Aggressive much?" Brooke smirked devilishly, sliding her leg easily in between both of Peyton's, grinding her thigh provocatively against the blonde's crotch. Peyton moaned lowly.

"I just wanna hear you cry for me." Brooke whispered, her voice husky and low in Peyton's ear. She maneuvered them into her bedroom, collapsing on top of Peyton on her bed.

"How come you're on top?" Peyton asked, cocking an eyebrow. Brooke lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it across the room. She smiled, leaning down to hover less than an inch from Peyton's face while one hand worked the blonde's skinny jeans.

"Because… I know that's the way you like it." The brunette came down, kissing Peyton more fiercely than she ever had before. Peyton moaned, kissing back just as hard, and helped Brooke with her jeans. They were gone in half a minute, as was her shirt, but Peyton couldn't recall having enough time to discard the item of clothing….

It didn't matter.

Brooke straddled Peyton again, reattaching her lips to the blonde's throat and exploring her shoulders, clavicle chest… She kissed the tender skin in the valley of Peyton's breast, willing the blonde to remove her bra. Peyton took the hint quickly, arching her back and reaching around for the clasp. This garment too, was gone in seconds, and Brooke brought her mouth back down, covering one of Peyton's nipples.

"Brooke…" Peyton moaned, her hand coming up to tangle in Brooke's hair. The brunette massaged Peyton's other breast, feeling her underwear dampen with each moan the blonde exhaled. And then, it was all over.

"Brooke Penelope Davis!!!!" A strong voice called. Brooke broke away instantly, nearly toppling off of Peyton and onto the floor. She looked into the doorway, frozen on the bed. Peyton had already grabbed one of Brooke's pillows to cover her chest. "I don't know what the hell this is, but half of it better be out of my house before I can come into this room and beat the life out of it." The harsh, military voice belonged to no one other than Victoria Davis, who at that point was so livid and disgusted that she was surprised she had even remembered her daughter's own name. "You better have a damn good explanation for this." She said to Brooke. The woman didn't even have to jab her finger at her daughter to get her point across. Her hands, in fact, remained on her hips, her authority looming higher than a monarch's. She turned, only her head, to Peyton, her eyes still squinted in anger. "And you…" She couldn't even form a coherent sentence. "Just… Out."

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Do you guys like it enough for me to continue? It won't all be this smutty, I promise. It'll be a little dark, actually, and I have NO idea how it'll end. But if you like it enough I'll see what I can do. Let me know. ^_~