When Your Sun Turns Black

This story is written by brookescott134 and Brucas46Forever. We really, really hope you like this. Comments are greatly appreciated and they are what keep us encouraged to write. Remember that.

Summary: Sometimes people play hard-to-get because they need to know the other person's feelings are real, but sometimes, for some of us, we play too hard.

Rating: T

Chapter Five: Don't

Don't say I love you,
Don't say you need me,
Don't say I trust you,
My heart cant take it.
Don't say you want me,
Don't say you miss me,
Don't hurt me.
Don't say you love me.

-"Don't" by Kelly Clarkson

She got in her car, driving down the road back to her home. The window was rolled down, the cool North Carolina air blowing through her hair as the radio plays softly. One hand was on the steering wheel and the other was resting on the widow seal, her head lying in the palm of her hand as she drove. The digital clock in her car beamed the numbers 2:45 AM at her, the bright red glowing eerily, almost taunting her.

Discarding her heels at the front door, she tiptoed up the stairs, the balls of her feet paining her by the time she reached her room. She was careful not to make a noise, sure that the kids were asleep. She walked slowly, almost reluctantly, to her room, and heaved a sigh of relief to see through the dark that the bed was empty. But she didn't get to finish two steps before the lights turned on with a click, stopping her abruptly in her tracks.

Damn, she thought, turning to see her husband standing before her, face set, arms crossed, allowing his shirt to stretch over his pumped muscles.

"Brooke," Lucas began, "what are you doing here so early?" His sarcasm mixed with his anger, creating a tone Brooke had not been ready for.

Brooke sighed and walked to her closet. She decided it would be best not to answer him, instead walking to her closet to put away her purse and the little brown grocery bag that accompanied it.

"Where were you, Brooke?" he asked, his voice taking on a harsher tone.

"It doesn't matter, Lucas." She turned to face him as she talked, wanting to prove to him she was not afraid of him.

"Brooke, I'm not going to repeat myself. Now answer the question." His eyes seemed cold and hard, yet she could easily sort out the softness in them.

"I said it doesn't matter, Lucas," she repeated, stronger this time.

"Brooke, it's 3 in the morning. Where have you been?" His voice didn't falter as he spoke.

"You're not my father, Lucas," she spat, endeavoring to walk past him.

He followed her, the adrenaline coursing through his blood as he heard her words. "I'm your husband, Brooke."

"Oh, so now you want to play husband?" she asked incredulously, turning to face him, halting his steps.

He chose to ignore her and exclaimed, "Do you have any idea how worried I have been!?"

"Yeah, Lucas, actually, I do. It's been all I've felt for a year!" she retorted angrily as she pushed past him into her walk-in closet, discarding her jacket in the hamper.

"That is great, Brooke," he said, uncrossing his arms. "So you stay out till three in the morning doing God knows what to spite me?"

"Yep," she answered with a shrug as she pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing more then a pair of jeans and a bra as she walked over to her drawer to find a pajama top. "You're acting like I'm a child Lucas. Well, I'm not. I can do and go where ever I please without need to consult you first."

He stalked to her, grabbing her arms wildly. He pulled her to him, hoping his seriousness would set her straight. "You are my wife, Brooke, and that means that you do have to tell me where you're going, especially if you decide to have midnight strolls through the city." Halfway through his sentence he had let go of her, and she was standing before him, half-naked, eyes gleaming dangerously at him. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that could be?" Why couldn't she understand he was simply worried about her?

"Like you care," she hissed, pushing him away from her. "Like you care," she repeated in a whisper accompanied by a small chuckle. Shaking her head, she turned away from him, unbuttoning her jeans as she pulled out a tank top, setting it on top of the large wooden dresser in front of her.

"Of course I care! Why the hell would I be fighting about this with if I didn't?"

"Just leave me, Lucas."

He walked to stand in front of her as she threw her jeans to the floor, now standing before him in only her underwear. He tried to avert his eyes away from her body, wanting to focus on the topic at hand. Ridding himself of his sexual desires, he put his hands on the side of her shoulders and spoke. "When will you get it, Brooke?" He stepped back, hands going back to his hips. "I'm not leaving. This is my home . . . our home."

She laughed bitterly. "Yeah, whatever. That is bullshit and you know it. Your office is your home. This—this is nothing more to you than a place you have to visit every once in a while."

"Whatever, Brooke. I'm still not leaving, and you married me, so you're stuck with me." He walked past her, taking off his clothes as he went. Brooke turned to look at him slightly as he stretched, his abs standing out hardly, muscles flexing. He's taunting me, Brooke thought, shocked. He left her standing before the bed, mouth open in slight awe.

She glared at him, leaving the pajama top on her drawer, opting to sleep in nothing. Two could play this game. Quickly stripping off her red push-up bra and matching panties, she sauntered over to the bed, watching with a sense of victory as his face mirrored her previous expression. She climbed on all fours onto the bed, moving close to him at first, as if she was going to sleep by him, and she watched as his hand lifted to bring her closer. Just as the tips of his fingers brushed her skin, she spun and dove under the covers, scooting over to the far end of the bed.

Lucas glared at her, only a small hint of playfulness in his baby blue eyes. He threw back the covers, leaving her half covered, allowing him to see plenty of her naked body, and decided he would like to feel free tonight as well.

He began to pull his shorts down and Brooke, shocked yet amused, asked, "Lucas, what are you doing?"

He heaved a sigh amusedly as the striped boxers slipped past his feet, leaving them both naked in bed. "Nothing," he lied, a smile playing across his face. Pulling the covers back on top of him, he turned off the light switch on the side of the bed, turning in his bed then. "Goodnight," he said, faking a contented sigh. What he really wanted to do was ravage the goddess lying beside him.

Brooke smirked. Is that all you've got? Well, two can play at this game, she thought evilly. She lowered herself into the bed, letting out a sigh that sounded similar to a cat's meow. Lucas tensed. She smiled, knowing for sure that she had his full attention. His ears, and other body organs, stood alert. She shifted in her position, allowing her body to "accidentally" brush his.

She stretched her body, arching her back, much like the way she would right before he would take her over her peak and let out a small, sexual moan before giving a fake yawn and letting her naked body collapse back in the bed, not bothering to the fix the covers he had pulled away from her.

He couldn't help himself. He turned in his place, doing it slowly, praying she wouldn't notice. He peered at her with his eyes, heard her with his ears, and he almost went crazy with desire.

She shut her eyes in an attempt to fool him into thinking she was drifting in to sleep, rolling to her side to face him. Snuggling into her pillow, she waited a minute or two before letting her hand drift under the covers and land on his upper thigh, knowing he couldn't stand when her hand was placed there.

He almost groaned out loud, and had to bite his tongue to keep himself from growling. He turned so he was on his back now, her hand moving with him to stay in place. Trying to control his breathing, he stayed still, trying to think about something, anything, else to get his mind off of the flirting vixen beside him. It was impossible to do, he realized, however, as she let her hand trail over the curve of his thigh and back onto the bed, her nails scraping him, sending a wild sensation down his back.

She rolled slightly closer to him, feeling the tenses of his body. A small smile made its way onto her face as she let her hand travel back up his thigh, much higher this time.

He managed himself for a second longer before he too was inching his way closer. His wife moved closer and closer, and he could feel the heat between the two. Time seemed to stop as she placed a hand on his chest, lifting herself to peer into his eyes. He smiled at her as she lifted a leg over his, and his heart was jumping with joy when she leaned down. He craned his neck upwards to get better access. The moment was coming; he could feel it. She was going to taste his lips, and he was going to ravish her. Their breaths mingled, and their lips were so close. Then all of a sudden, her hands pressed hard into his chest and she lifted herself off of him and onto the ground on the other side of the bed in one swift movement. "I think I need a shower," she stated, smirking at him.

"Wait, what?" he said as he sat up, watching her retreating form.

"A shower. ...I think I need one," she answered simply, skipping off to the couple's large, master's suite bathroom.

Lucas stared at her in shock. He had played right into her hands, and had been too crazed to notice. Groaning, he flopped back onto the bed, praying thoughts of her would disappear and he would be able to get a good night's sleep. He realized there was no way that was going to happen as the sound of the shower went off in the bathroom.

A smirk creeped onto his face as he got out of the bed, walking into the master bath. Cautiously, he opened the shower door. Her back was to him, but the smile never left his face as he placed a hand on her naked hip, leaning in close to her neck.

She gasped as she felt him, all of him, behind her. His hot breath tickled her wet skin. She turned around, smiling sexily at him. He placed a hand on the small of her back, bringing her closer to him as the water flowed over them. Standing there, bare naked under the shower, eyes gleaming with mischief, she had never looked sexier to him. They leaned in, their lips meeting in an intense kiss in the middle. His tongue lined her lips, begging for entrance that she provided him with. Their tongues caressed each other, hands moving about to sacred places on each other's bodies. He moved forward, forcing her back. She hit the tiled wall, its coldness sending tingles throughout her body. Her legs immediately lifted to wrap around his waist.

"You so still want me," he whispered with a cocky smile as she pushed her against the wall, sucking on her neck.

She moaned out loud. "I can stop when ever I want," she fought back, panting.

"Then stop," he whispered against her skin.

"Maybe I will," she grunted as he pushed her deeper into the wall.

"If you wanted to stop you would've by now, and frankly, I don't see you pushing me away anytime soon." He sounded amused at the control he had over her.

"For someone who wants to get laid you have a really risky way of showing it," she taunted.

He didn't feel the need to reply. Instead, he showed her just how much he wanted her by quickly slipping in her; the unanticipated move made her moan with pleasure, and her sound was like music to his ears.

She, as well, opted not to reply. She pulled his body close to hers as she kissed up his neck, and then made her way to nibble on his ear, the way she knew drove him wild.

He pushed into her roughly, showing more desire and lust than love. Yet his movements were passionate all the same. Shuddering, he picked up his pace, wanting to drive her to the wildest of places, wanting to prove to her, and himself, that he still had that effect on her.

She bit down on his neck, trying her hardest not to scream. In doing so, she let out loud, hard, lustful moan against his neck. He pushed her away slightly, pinning her to the cold tile wall of the shower as he looked her dead in the eye, driving in to her with a small smirk. He could tell he had her. She was about to shatter, and it was all thanks to him. "Scream, baby," he said, picking up his pace even more as her already loud moans increased in volume. He leaned down, taking her breast in his mouth, sucking the soft flush as he continued pumping through her. The arching of her back drove her body further into his as he let his hands grope her perfectly sculpted body.

She panted heavily above him, and it drove him crazy when she screamed his name as she reached her climax. Soon, he reached his own level of ecstasy, and he shouted out like an animal let loose. "God, Brooke." He fell against her, her legs still wrapped around him.

Her chest rose and fell quickly as she let her arms stay wrapped around his neck, his head resting above her chest as he, too, tried to regain his breath. He lifted himself off of her, her legs falling reluctantly. She looked up at him, smiling, only to witness a full view of his tense face. "Maybe we should just wash ourselves and go back inside," he said. His sudden change of attitude frightened her, and she nodded, unsure of what else to say. He showered quickly, turning to nod at her before he left the shower. She couldn't figure out what was wrong with him as she stared at him through the fogged up mirror. One minute they were having, hot, passionate sex, and the next thing she knows he's gone. It was so unlike him . . . and so like her. Scowling at herself, she turned to finish cleaning herself as well.

She stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself before walking into her closet, finding her estranged husband in there as well. She let a small smirk grow as she ran her fingers along his lower back, right above the towel that was wrapped loosely around his waist. He tensed at her touch, and didn't dare turn his back.

"Lucas?" she asked. He closed his eyes, wishing all the awkwardness away. "Lucas, what's wrong?" she repeated.

"Nothing is wrong, Brooke. What makes you think that?" He still didn't turn.

"The way you're all tense and you aren't looking at me. ...Did I do something?"

"No."

She waited for him to say something more. Nothing. "Lucas . . . please, tell me what's bothering you."

He turned around for her to see him in all his anger and hurt. "What's bothering me? Is that really a question you should be asking?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What that means is that I'm fed up with this, Brooke. Tell me, what's going to happen now? After what we just did, what's your plans for us?"

She looked at him, not truly being able to answer his question, not knowing how to answer his question. She honestly hadn't thought about it. She'd just figured they would just go back to the normality of him sleeping on his side of the bed, her sleeping on hers, and them not speaking—the normal life they had.

"You see, Brooke. You were planning on repeating this all over again. Just when I think we're doing good, and we're going to be a happy family, you decide to create a whole mess of it all over again." She bent her head down, knowing he was right. "Can't you just let me do my job as your husband and love you?"

"No," she said, looking up at him again. "You quit that job a long time ago," said Brooke, voice wavering.

"I never stopped loving you, Brooke," he said solemnly. "And I am so sorry if I ever gave you the impression that I didn't want to be your husband, because there is nothing more that I want, and need, to be." She couldn't see it, but his eyes filled with unshed tears, the emotion of the situation getting to him.

"Can you honestly say you blame me for doubting that, Lucas?"

"I'm sorry, but I need you to trust me now. Trust me when I tell you that I didn't mean for this to happen, for our lives to fall apart this way; but they did, Brooke, and right now, I want nothing more than to fix them."

"It's too late, Lucas. ...You knew where this was heading for so long and you did nothing about it until I told you I was done and then all of the sudden you want to be this guy that you were suppose to be all along. I am sorry but I am not falling for it again. I was already stupid enough to before, but not again. You don't get that part of me again. I want a divorce," she said sternly, past the tears swelling her eyes. She didn't mean it, but it came out somehow, and as of now, it was the strongest brick in the wall she had around her heart.

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