AN: So this is a little rarity I came up with after watching off and on with my mother over the years. Maybe a little OOC but I admit it's been awhile since I've watched the show.
Pairing: Brooke/Taylor
Warning: femslash, Nc-17, alcoholism
Once beautiful sea-green orbs stare unblinkingly at the blank television, their youthful twinkle long since deadened to a lifeless gray, they gave away no emotion just shinned a dull lifeless shimmer. As the saying goes the eyes are the windows to the soul and Taylor Hamilton felt her's wither and die each and every time she saw the men she loved to walk out of that door. All of their words were like barbed arrows to her heart each one shearing an agonizing path as they fell from lips that once sent tingles up and down her spine with every kiss.
She was never enough for them. No matter how much she tried. How much she loved them and told them so they all left in the end for her. Ridge, Nick, both gone, captured in the seductive web of one Brooke Logan. She takes a gulp of five hundred dollar wine, enjoying its bitter taste. It goes well with the mood and the person of interest, she muses staring now at the blood-like liquid occupying the glass within her grasp. She feels inebriation's tendrils slowly embedding into her conscious, dragging it closer and closer to the ever numbing abyss.
She welcomes its embrace these days. Relishes in it, in fact. After all, its the only thing that gives her any relief from the pain. The nearly overwhelming loneliness. They 'Stephanie' tell her to go out meet new people, make a life for herself. She lies, of course, saying that she merely doesn't have the time. But the truth of the matter is; she is frightened. Frightened that if and when she does meet someone that they too will leave and run into the ever welcoming arms of Brooke. She doesn't think she can handle that if it was to happen again.
A sharp sound echoed throughout the room and it takes a moment for the brunette to realize that it came from a knock at the door. Oh wonderful, company. She used to love having people over to wine and dine but now she loathes the mere thought of a visitor.
Rising a bit unsteadily she walks a waving line to the door. Swinging it open with a bit more force than necessary, she couldn't help but scowl for there standing directly in front of her was the notorious husband thief Brooke Logan. Those bright green eyes scan over Taylor then take on a puppy dog appearance."You've been drinking." The sentence is a statement rather than a question.
Maybe, it was the alcohol ravaging her system but Taylor thinks the statement is slightly amusing and snorts delicately. "Your powers of observation astound me, Brooke. Now, what do you want? Another man?" A humorless laugh follows.
Forest green eyes narrow into slits. "No, I just came to check on you Nick said-Well, if Nick said." Another snort and a hand waves lazily signaling for the blonde to enter. "Come on in. After all you've been in here enough times to owe me a few months rent." Which was true, it was no telling how many times the blonde and Ridge or Nick had slept together in this house, in her bed, hence the reason why she's currently sleeping in Thomas' old room.
Taylor strolls ahead, careful to walk as straight as possible, feeling the other woman's presence just an arm's length away from her. She'd be lying if she said it didn't send chills up and down her spine. When they approached the living room, she bent at the waist lifting the half-full glass from the coffee table, she glances over her shoulder at the blonde. "Drink?" Taunting the other woman rather than being courteous and she watches in satisfaction as Brooke's jaw hardens to no doubt, bite back a remark. She merely smirks at the other woman.
A moment of awkward silence follows.
"Well, what does Nick have to say about me?" Taylor breaks it like fine glass causing the other woman to jump.
Brooke blinks a couple of time. "He said you've been drinking heavily."
"Really, and how on earth would he know that?" She prompts, weaving her own web in an attempt to lure this little fly just a little deeper.
"He's seen it, Taylor. The empty bottles, the dirty wine glasses, not to mention you can not even walk a straight line."
"Oh just shut up, Brooke. Quit pretending like you even care. This;" She waved her hands wildly. "This is entirely your fault! You take, and take, and take until people are left with nothing. Do you have any pride? Any remorse what so ever?" She let out a breathless laugh. "Of course you don't. All you ever care about or love is yourself."
Brooke crosses her arms and steps forward, a frown upon her lips. "You're calling me selfish when you're the one who is putting the bottle in front of your own child and fiancé."
"Don't you mean your child and your fiancé. Because Lord knows it was enough that I carried your child, you had to sneak around with Nick too."
"We're not sleeping together, Taylor. How many times must I tell you that."
She scoffs, bringing the glass to her lips for a quick drink, the strong liquor adding fuel to once smoldering coals. "Like I would believe you." She spats, glaring at the blonde.
"You do not have to believe me but it's the truth."
A finely shaped eyebrow raises. "Oh, like when you said you weren't sleeping with Ridge when me and him were together."
"That was different."
"Was it?"
"Yes." The blonde practically hisses. "But this isn't about that this is about a little boy who needs his mother."
Taylor sneers at the other woman; of all the gall. "Oh, don't give me that hypocritical self-righteous act you always seem to maintain."
"You know what, I'm done." Brook throws her hands up in defeat. "You can sit here and wallow in your self-pity all you want to but it doesn't change the fact that you're losing them." She spins around on her feet heading toward the exit. Tears well in Taylor's eyes, but she's determined not to shed them. She had to give up her husband, her lover, even the child she so desperately wanted. All because of her. Her the selfish, manipulative, whore.
Something inside her snaps and before she could stop herself the psychiatrist is racing forward, reaching the blonde seconds before the doorknob is turned, she pushes the other woman roughly against the door, not caring what the impact might do to that beautiful face. Chest heaving, heart pumping, her hand flies out, fingers fumbling, clicking the lock. She steps back just enough to whirl the blonde around as best she could and now Brooke is looking at her with mouth open wide in shock and eyes round as saucers. "Tay.. she closes her hands around the elegant throat and squeezes. She feels the blonde try to slap her hands away, but the grip is too strong. Desperate fists are beating on her shoulders now, but it only prompts her to squeeze just a little harder.
Eyes flashing, Taylor stares directly into Brooke's eyes. Even though she loathes the woman she has to admit that there is something powerful about having her underneath you. Warmth rushes through her veins and suddenly she feels the urge to explore this woman just to find out what makes her so. So irresistible. Taylor bites her bottom lip, letting her grip slacken just an ounce.
"Let me go!" Brooke rasps, attempting to wiggle free.
Taylor silences her within seconds, hands falling rapidly upon shapely hips, she uses all her strength to slam the blonde's body against the heavy wooden door, with sheer determination, eyes wild, filled with several years of built up fury she holds her in place. Her quarry will not get away this time.
The brunette growls, grabbing the no doubt expensive shirt with both hands, she rips it open sending buttons sailing in various directions. Revealing a lace crimson La Perla bra underneath, an expanse of flawless creamy skin. The sight alone causes a twisted mixture of agitation and involuntary arousal.
Plump lips part as Taylor leans forward biting a nipple through the thin material.
A gasp and she feels the other woman attempt to move once again but Taylor merely presses down even harder, hips flush against hips, they stand nearly molded as one. She lowers her mouth against Brooke's collarbone, raking her teeth in a sort of primal warning. The blonde freezes beneath her, unmoving apart from the rise and fall of her chest after each ragged breath. Maybe, it was the fear that kept her in place or maybe, it was the nagging need to know what was going to happen next.
Frankly, Taylor did not care as her hands glide upward and over two silky quivering thighs, pushing up the mid-thigh skirt as well, exposing the flesh to her greedy gaze. A small smile twitching at the corner of full lips as the blonde subconsciously spread her legs, granting access, involuntary craving her touch. Oh, if all those men could see Brooke now, back arched against the door, chest heaving, and skin flushed underneath her of all people. What would they say? Probably nothing; after all, Brooke Logan could do no wrong in any male's eye.
The need to hear the other woman becomes too much and Taylor stops, fingers hovering barely an inch away from a scorching core and watches as the other woman's mouth part in anticipation.
Taylor grins wickedly, leaning in closer until full lips are just a breath's away from the other woman's ear. "You know, for a woman who doesn't want this, you're certainly not putting up much of a fight." Heavy lids flicker open, revealing irises darkened by lust. But just as she was about so say something, Taylor's fingers close the final inch, roughly pushing the line of lace to the side, they dip between hidden folds with ease, warm juices coating the tips immediately, she slams into her.
"Oh God." Brooke breaths as her head falls back hitting the door with a solid thump; eyes staring toward the heavens, before squeezing tightly shut. Weakness for once being shown from the other woman, Taylor grasps the opportunity to taunt. "Look at yourself, Brooke. Splayed out for me like a wanton whore. " She laughs in the other woman's face. "Is a little rough play all it takes?" Taylor punctuates each word with a quick shallow thrust causing the blonde to grunt in time with them.
She withdrew her hand, moving away for only a moment, Brooke groans only to cry out in surprise when an extra finger begins thrusting inside, burying knuckle deep, slamming roughly, and glistening with Brooke's juices. Taking this all in, Taylor feels power like no other surge through her and for one moment; one precious moment she is in full control of something.
Breathless moans lure her back to reality and she pumps faster. The angle is perfect, allowing her full access to the bundle of nerves and the opening. She slams into the blonde mercilessly, the heel of her palm pressing against her clit with every thrust. Brooke's hand cautiously moves away from the door and grips Taylor's arm, putting pressure where she desired it the most.
Taylor grants her this simple favor by thrusting harder, faster, fighting against the burning pain shooting within her wrist until the blonde is moaning louder and those hips are thrusting harshly forward desperately seeking more friction. Bliss was within reach, just a fingers width away, and Taylor knew it. Leaning forward until her alcohol-soaked breath fans out across thin pink lips, Taylor reaches upward entangling her fingers within golden locks and wrenches the other woman's head to the side exposing a swan-like neck and bobbing Adam's apple. She waits, pumping in and out, in and out, hitting the bundle of nerves with just a little more force until the breathing in front of her would almost be mistaken for someone hyperventilating.
In the heat of the moment though, a slick sweaty thigh is pressed between Taylor's own, hitting her core and sending a shock-wave of pleasure through her body.
A hiss through gritted teeth. "Bitch." Taylor is breathless, flushed, her body involuntary beginning to rock back and forth with a steady force. Her nostrils flare out with each breath and Brooke meets her stare without blinking which pisses her off to no end. No, Brooke will not win this. With teeth gritted in determination, she reaches down, grasping the thigh in a death grip, she digs five sharp fingernails into the skin until finally the blonde hisses and lowers it only to wrap it around Taylor's waist allowing the fingers to go even deeper still until they're hitting the little rough patch hidden inside.
The blonde gasping, trying in vain to get her breathing under control, tears are shimmering in those lust fogged eyes and she's drowning willingly in a sea of pleasure. Wanting it to last as long as possible Taylor stills her hand forcing the blonde to ride her fingers so roughly that Brooke is sliding against the door with each and every push of her hips. The moans pick up to nearly deafening and instinct tells Taylor its time.
Leaning down quickly, pearl white teeth sink into the exposed shoulder, sending the blonde over the edge. Back arched painfully against the door, Taylor feels the muscles around her fingers clamp down, sucking them in, then unclenching again and again. Gently pulling out, she steps back and watches in twisted satisfaction as Brooke slides bonelessly to the floor.
She waits for a moment until the blonde finally catches her breath. "Now, get the hell out of my house." Turning on her heel, not even bothering to see if Brooke heard her or not, Taylor immediately heads towards her bedroom. Slamming the door, she nearly trips over her own feet to get to the bottle of wine standing proudly on the bedside table. She screwed the top off, not even bothering to find a glass, she brought it to her lips, taking a deep pull of the sweet bitter liquid. She sits on the edge of the bed staring at nothing and everything. Anguish begins to trickle down from her eyes, leaving behind two depressing silvery trails. What the hell did I just do?
A timid knock sounds from the door and Taylor's heart bottoms out. Please, please, please just go away.
"Taylor?"
Silence. She holds her breath, closes her eyes, in an attempt to just block out everything. Just go away.
"Taylor, please just;" A pause. "just open the door." Eyelids pop open and she inhales deeply but utters not a word. More silence ensures and Taylor feels sweat prickling at her temples.
A thud against the door, followed by a whispered. "Please." She exhales a long ragged breath, wondering if opening that door would be like opening Pandora's box but before she could ponder on it too long her feet seemingly having a mind of their own push upward and began bringing her closer and closer to the entrance. Her arm extends and five fingers wrap around the doorknob and opens it.
AN: I might continue this if enough people like this. I've been wanting to write this a long time simply because those to have some major chemistry. Had to look up her maiden name and eye color for some reason at first I thought Taylor had brown eyes, I guess it was the hair that throwed me off. Well, tell me what you think.