Thanks for the replies, here's a short update. More soon.

Chapter Three: Heated Encounters

Peyton watched Brooke bounce across the pavement to Nathan and try to steal the ball from him. Rubbing up against him, being all sexy and sassy.

Nate fumbled with the ball, dropping it and cursing under his breath, his eyes following Brooke as she grabbed it and made a shot. So the boys led 7-4.

Luke bent over to tie his shoe and felt something graze his butt gently. He looked over and saw Peyton reaching over to grab something out of her bag.

Tiptoeing up behind her, he grabbed her close and swung her around.

Peyton fought to get free, but only succeeded in getting closer to Luke and rubbing up against him in the process.

"Luke what are you doing?" Peyton playfully protested.

"Playing, you grabbed my ass, so I grabbed you back," he chucked her under the chin.

"I so did not grab your ass, in your dreams Scott," taking an aggressive stance on her feet, she stared him down.

Brooke went to stand by Peyton's side, "Luke you wish she'd grabbed your ass." Her stance mocked Peyton's, her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Luke turned to Nathan, "Bro, you gonna back me up."

"Sorry man, got to stick with the chicks," he moved over to stand by Brooke, his hand lightly touching her waist, almost as if protectively.

"Whatever," Luke turned and was jumped from behind by Brooke and Peyton.

"Psyche," they shrieked.

Luke laughed and struggled to evade their tickling. Somehow in the process, his hand inched its way up Peyton's shirt, till he was touching the bottom of her bra.

Brooke moved away, not noticing their touching and walked over to Nathan.

Peyton dragged her feet as she got to her empty house, looking at the dark empty windows.

"Well today was fun, thanks for hanging with me," Peyton tried to sound like a casual friend.

Luke watched her, nervous swallowing, eyes twitching as she eyed her empty house.

He walked her to the front door, "Mind if I come in, I gotta call my mom, left my cellphone at home?"

"Sure." Peyton mumbled, glad to have an excuse for him to stay.

She was making dinner in the kitchen when he came in out of the hallway.

"Well that's settled, so what do you want to do?" he asked, looking around.

"What'd you mean?" she was confused.

"I'm staying over again, can't have you alone in this big empty house, my mom's fine with it. I don't literally need to ask her permission to stay here, it's just that she wants to know where I am, but she trusts me. And I am not leaving you all alone in this house. I care about you too much." Luke stumbled over the last part.

"You care about me?" Peyton repeated, unsure of how to comprehend that.

"Yes, I care about you, careful or you'll burn your pancakes." Luke drew her attention to her cooking.

"I care about you too." Looking at him slowly, she saw tenderness in his eyes and a softening of his face.

"I'm glad." Moving forward, he turned off the oven and put her pancake pan on a cool burner. Backing her against the wall, he slowly moved forward into her space.

Hearing her breath rattle out harshly, he knew she was feeling the same tension as he was, the same sexual desire, the need to touch and taste and smell.

Touching her hair softly, he tilted her head to the side and nibbled on her throbbing pulse gently.

Her hand drifted down his lower back moving him forward slowly.

Until their bodies meshed together perfectly.

His lips moved within breathing distance of hers and they inhaled the same air, fragrant with their need to taste.

His lips touched hers.

Wet.

Warm.

Soft.

Hungry.

His tongue dueled with hers, over and under and tracing her teeth lightly.

Her hand tightened on his back, moving down to his ass. Her other hand buried in his hair, tearing gently through the silky spikes.

They parted to catch their breath, eyes met, cerulean on turquoise.

What to do now? Their eyes asked the question, their bodies provided the answer.

More soon.