Chapter Twenty-Three: Where Destiny Takes Us
Haley and Nathan walked back into their enormous penthouse apartment, arms around each other.
"Are the kids in bed?" he asked her.
"They'd better be," she said, moving towards him.
About to meet, they were interrupted by the polite cough of the girl they'd hired to baby-sit. Blushing, Haley walked over to her, paid her for babysitting their two children and showed her to the door.
As soon as it was closed, Nathan walked up to Haley from behind and pushed the spaghetti straps of her long black dress off her shoulders. She shuddered as the feel of his warm hands on her smooth skin overwhelmed her.
She swiveled around to face him and slung her arms around his neck. Without the energy or the patience to make it to the bedroom, they fell onto the sofa, kissing and touching wildly.
Nathan stared as Haley slid out from under him and stood. Her eyes fastened on his, she found the zipper of her form fitting evening dress, undid it and let the silky fabric sink to the ground, revealing a lacy strapless bra and a matching g-string. Nathan pulled her back on top him, kissing even more feverishly than before.
For once they were uninterrupted as they shed their clothes and passionately made love, pleasuring each other in turn.
Nathan awoke sharply and sat up. Haley was haunting his dreams. She'd been gone nearly two years, and still she was plaguing him.
The phone rang beside him, but he rolled over and tried to sleep. In the years that followed, he and his brother would secretly ponder endlessly what would have happened had Nathan answered that phone.
"Hello?" said Peyton Sawyer drearily into the phone at almost the same moment.
"Peyton? Peyton, is that you?" said an anxious, rushed voice into the phone.
"Luke? Is that you?" she asked, waking slightly from her sleep.
"It's Damian. He has a fever," blurted out Luke. Peyton, instantly alert, swung her legs over the side of her bed.
"Luke, calm down. I'll be right over," she said, soothing him as she ran to her closet and searched for something to throw on.
Peyton jumped in a cab, deciding she didn't care how much it would cost her to go all the way to Lucas's luxurious apartment. She paid the cab driver when they arrived, and leapt out.
"Luke? Damian?" she yelled out as soon as she entered his apartment. She ran toward his bedroom, where she could hear Damian screaming.
It was like a scene from a horror movie. Damian was screaming his lungs out, writhing in his father's protective arms. Most of his possessions were scattered about the usually immaculate room. His sheets were drenched in his sweat.
"Luke!" screamed Peyton. At last he heard her, and looked up with his panic filled blue eyes. Peyton took the baby (Damian had recently turned 18 months, and was no longer truly an infant) from him and held him tightly. The familiar feel of her seemed to comfort him immensely, but still he screamed. His body was red and burning with heat.
"Luke, go get me a wet hand towel, his thermometer and some child advil. He's going to be fine," she assured him. Luke hesitated, but went.
Peyton put a sleep on him over his diaper, knowing that he would experience hot and cold flashes in his fever, and put him back in the crib. Lucas came running back and she sponged his forehead with the wet cloth, and eventually the rest of his face before relocating it to rest on his forehead. She placed the thermometer in his ear and waited a few seconds before it beeped and she pulled it out again.
"101 degrees. That's not so bad," she said. She looked at Lucas, who had leaned over her shoulder with panicked eyes. "Seriously, babies have high temperatures all the time. If he's still sick in the morning we'll call his doctor," she assured him.
Luke and Peyton did stay awake for many hours, soothing, temperature testing, advil feeding and soaking the forehead of Damian Scott, but eventually his fever broke and he finally feel peacefully asleep. Peyton led the dazed Lucas into his own kitchen and practically force fed him a cup of coffee.
"That was intense," he said at last.
"It happens, with little kids," she said. She looked up at him and in a terrified moment she realized he looked close to tears. She went forward and cautiously put her arms around him. She was unprepared when he flung his own around her and held her tightly.
"He's all I have left. All I have left of Brooke. I can't lose him," he said.
"You won't. He's healthy. He's a great kid," said Peyton. Peyton felt guilty-her heart went out to Lucas and his suffering, but she enjoyed the feel of the strong man pressed up against her.
"Thanks, Pey," he said. Peyton reflected on how she'd always hated it when people had called her 'Pey' and Peyt'. But with him, oddly enough, she didn't mind it.
She gasped as she felt his member stiffen against her. Her desire of him had never waned, but she'd never so much as touched him. She understood the barrier between them.
Pulling away from him, she looked him directly in the eye. Somehow under the harsh kitchen lights, in the early hours of the morning, they had seen each other in a new light.
Lucas began to lean down and before Peyton could consider it, he had kissed her and she had let his tongue slid into her mouth and caress hers.
Not allowing herself to think, Peyton clung to Luke while he lifted her and she wrapped her long, slim legs around his waist and let him carry her to his bedroom.
He placed her on his bed and was immediately atop her again. He kissed her lips before sliding his mouth down to her neck, sucking and kissing. His lips traveled further down her body. She clung to the bedposts as he reached her area and began to pleasure her so much she felt like she could hardly stand it.
After she came, he went back astride her and entered her slowly and sensually.
"That was probably a bad idea," said Peyton eventually, still exhausted from the intensity of it.
"How so?" he asked, looking at her, admiring her beauty for a moment.
"Your wife just died," she moaned.
"It was two years ago. And I loved Brooke with all my heart. She was one of the great loves of my life. But we get two, right?" he asked gently.
"She's the mother of your child…" began Peyton.
"Brooke gave birth to my son. But you've been his mother for years, and she'd be forever grateful to you for that," said Lucas.
"You don't feel bad, convincing another woman to be with you?" she asked.
"Before Brooke… died, we talked about it. She was afraid of dying giving birth to him. The doctors warned us there was a fear of it. I didn't want to talk about it, I insisted that she'd be fine, but she insisted harder. She wanted me to raise our baby and she wanted me to love. She didn't want me to be alone, I guess," said Lucas.
"That's incredible. I wish I'd known her," said Peyton. Lucas smiled.
"I think you guys would have been friends," he said, leaning forward and kissing the tip of her nose.
Author's note: Usually at this point, I would announce the next subject of my next story. Because Broken Alliances is almost over. However, that is not the case in this instance. I am taking a hiatus. After Broken Alliances finishes, I will not write a OTH story until probably after the new season starts here. As always, thank you for your support.