A/N: Hey, so this is a oneshot rated M. Due to some sexiness. Haha. This is a sort of sequel to Three Little Words, although you don't really have to read that one to read this one. Basically, after Lucas told Peyton he hated her, she committed suicide, and he lost all his friends because of it. Sooo, yeah, not really that important to read that oneshot. Happy reading. I hope you like it! )
It's been 93 days.
It's been three months since her death.
It's been three months since his friends have left him all alone.
It's been three months, and all he's done is drink his life away.
Three months since he lost the love of his life.
It's three-am when he hears the knock on his bedroom door.
He's surprised, really, when he opens the door to see Brooke Davis, crying, and obviously drunk.
However, he's not surprised at all when she starts to scream at him.
"YOU BASTARD!" She storms inside, not waiting for him to invite her inside.
He sighs, "Brooke…what are you doing here?"
She shakes her head, and a few tears fall off her face. He watches them as they travel downward and land on his carpet.
"It's been three fucking months! Three months, Lucas Scott. Three months since you killed her! I see her all the time…her frail body lying lifelessly on her bed…how cold she feels…and I just fucking HATE you because of that!"
He starts to tear up himself, because he knows it's his fault, and he's been living that nightmare for the past 93 days.
"Brooke, if there was anything I could do…I would do it…believe me!"
She glances at him for a second, looks away, and then looks at him again, with a look on her face that he hasn't seen in years.
"Help me forget, Lucas."
She steps dangerously close to him, he can feel her breath, see the pain in her beautiful brown eyes, and he's lost for words.
"W-What?"
"I said," She places a hand on his face, "Help me forget. I don't want to see her face anymore, at least for a little while…you did this, now help take it away!"
He nods, and he doesn't know why. That's a lie, of course. He wants to forget too. Another part of him though, the selfish part, wants this because it means being close to somebody which he hasn't been in three months. Maybe, doing this, maybe…it will change something. Maybe his friends and his life will come together again…and everything will be okay.
He slowly leans in and kisses her, softly, tenderly.
She doesn't want tenderness.
She throws him down onto his bed and straddles him, and as she assaults his neck, she says forcefully, "I don't want to be treated like a fucking china doll, Lucas."
This is as much confirmation he needs, and in the next second, he has her under him and he's roughly pressing his lips against hers.
She runs her tongue along his bottom lip as she reaches down and pulls his shirt up over his head, only breaking the kiss long enough to throw it across his room.
His hands roam downwards, to her shirt hem, where they push it up, to reveal her flat, toned stomach.
She rolls them back over, because Brooke Davis is not one to be on the bottom, to the position she was previously in, her straddling him, and breathing heavily.
She presses kisses down his chest, then kisses along his waistline, earning a moan from her partner. She knows this is a weakness of it, and you can call it playing unfair, but she was never one to play by the rules.
She feels his hands move up slowly, going from her legs, to her thighs, up to her shirt, and then pull it off.
She looks down into his eyes, and for a moment, she's overcome by the memory of when everything was okay. When she was happy. Years ago, when they were a happy couple and Peyton was still alive. It's almost enough for her to break down right at that second.
Almost.
She reaches behind her and unclasps her black lace bra, letting her full breasts fall out, and only then can she look back into his eyes. She's relieved to see that his eyes no longer hold traces of the past, only pure undeniable lust.
She can't stop the throaty moan that escapes from her mouth as he reaches up and takes her left breast with his mouth.
That's something that drives her wild.
He knows it.
She's not the only one who is playing unfairly.
For a fraction of a second, as her breast is still in his mouth, she contemplates whether or not this is a good idea, but then, she feels his hand massaging her right breast so fast it might hurt if it didn't feel so fucking good, and that thought flies out the window.
It's been far too long since she's had sex, and this act alone has her close to coming, and she's not about to let that happen.
She grinds her lower body against his, and as he releases his hold on her breasts to let out a noise of satisfaction, she slowly moves down his body to unbutton his jeans. She pulls down them down swiftly, and he kicks them off, flinging them onto the floor.
Once again she finds herself underneath Lucas Scott, as he kisses his way down her chest, stopping at the top of her skirt, before pulling it down. He looks down at her body, sans underwear, then raises his eyebrows.
"You naughty, naughty, girl." He whispers huskily, and the his hot breath blowing against her clit has her squirming already.
He smirks, seeing her reaction, and moves down to her ankles, and so slowly, to the point where it's almost painful, kisses up her legs, and places light kisses on her inner thighs.
He takes a finger and runs it across her folds, causing her to arch her back and thrust towards him, eager for more.
He pushes a finger into her and pumps in and out, deliberately going slow as to tease her.
He knows it's working as her hears her satisfied whimpers, and feels her writhing from pleasure.
He slips another finger inside her, only increasing the pace a little.
She knows she'll come if he continues at this rate, so she lets out a shaky breath, and tries as forcefully as she can to tell him to do it already.
"Quit the fucking foreplay and just fuck me!"
He chuckles lowly, and pulls his fingers out, getting another moan from his pushy ex-girlfriend.
He takes off his boxers, the only barrier between them now, and positions himself, pushing her legs away from each other, and thrusts into her.
He grunts, she groans, all in pleasure.
He continues to thrust, her loud moans almost sending him over the edge on many occasions.
She wraps her legs around him.
"Harder," She pleads.
He's never been able to deny Brooke anything, and her wish is his command. He increases his pace, and, by her gasps of pleasure, he knows it's just what she wanted.
"Luke," She hasn't called him that in awhile, "I'm gonna…"
She can no longer finish as her body is racked with an orgasm. He can feel her tighten around him, and her body shake from pleasure, and that's enough to send him into bliss as well.
He pulls out, breathing heavily, and lays back, putting his head onto his pillow.
She surprises him again, by cuddling up against him, and putting her arm across his stomach.
She places a quick, loving kiss on his stomach.
"Thank you." She breathes out.
As he puts his own arms around her, he can't help but feel the hope swell up inside of him. This could be the first night of many. The first night towards forgiveness.
He looks down at Brooke, who has slowly drifted off to sleep, and lets a wide grin spread out across his face before he too falls asleep.
…………
…………
………...
The next morning he awakes to find himself alone. No body in the bed beside him, nobody curled up against his body anymore.
Instead, he finds a note. A note with four words that crush the hope building up inside him and sending him back into his fit of despair.
This doesn't change anything.