DISCLAIMER: Popular and its characters are the property of Ryan Murphy and Touchstone. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SEQUEL: To Predatory.
It took Brooke weeks to come up with a plan to get back at Sam for her seduction in the newspaper office. If anything came of their constant battle for superiority, it was this: Sex games between the two of them were almost brutal at times. Each one competing to one up the other. The stakes higher every time they came together, both literally and metaphorically, and next time, Sam was sure to go all out.
"You trust me, right?" Brooke asked curtly, cutting through the darkness surrounding Sam. They were trapped in the brunette's room, Brooke having hurried in after flipping the light switch before Sam knew what hit her.
"Is this where I tell you my safety word?" Sam chuckled at the situation, not letting on to the anxiety pooling in the pit of her stomach.
"Yes," Brooke purred into her ear, the cold metal sliding against Sam's wrist and the blonde snapped it into place. Sam fought against it before the realization that Brooke not only managed to handcuff her right hand but her left hand as well to the leather desk chair she now sat in.
"-Shh," she put a finger to Sam's lip and let it linger for a few seconds. "It's payback time."
"For what?" Sam struggled, realizing that not only was she trapped to her chair, she would need to pull a Houdini on two sets of handcuffs. 'Whoever thought Brooke would be so kinky...' she thought with a smile. "Well, this is certainly something... new."
"Yeah, it is," Brooke whispered in Sam's ear.
"Interesting," Sam's word caught in her throat as the blonde ran her hands down her arms and lightly caressed the sides of her breasts. She brought her hands up the same way, rested them on Sam's shoulders and listened, hearing a small sigh escape Sam's lips.
Brooke left her there suddenly as she struggled slightly against the cool metal of the handcuffs. She whipped off her own sweater, and then picked up a t-shirt of Sam's off the floor that no doubt missed laundry day. She pulled it over her head slowly, deliberately, watching as Sam's eyes crisscrossed across her body.
"See anything you like?" Brooke teased, dancing a little in the faint light that came from Sam's desk. It was the only light in the room and it gave a glow to her lithe form as she swayed to the invisible song playing in her head.
"Yeah," Sam grinned, knowing what was to come. Or at least hoping she knew what was to come. These games they played kept upping the odds, and neither one of them knew what to expect from the other.
"Well, that's all you'll be seeing tonight." Brooke smirked; she crossed her arms and stared Sam down to see her reaction.
"What?" Sam's jaw dropped. Sam didn't know what to say or what to do. She couldn't even struggle against what held he down, because she couldn't tell if Brooke was joking or not. So, she asked the inevitable: "What... What are you talking about?"
"We're going to play a little game," Brooke said matter-of-factly, "We're going to see how long you can go before you break that chair and join me in bed."
Brooke pulled a black bandana out of the back pocket of her jeans and carefully wrapped it around Sam's eyes. She was careful not to trap the brunette's locks in the knot; she wanted to make sure it was secure enough that Sam couldn't get it off without practically killing herself in the process.
"How's that?" Brooke asked, grinning at the sight of a squeamish Sam. She loved the feeling of being in control of the journalist, because she knew how much Sam hated being out of control.
"Damn it, Brooke," Sam seethed, thrashing a bit, "Let me out of these things..." Sam didn't like not being able to see the world around her, let alone Brooke.
"I will," Brooke grinned, laying down in the brunette's bed and making herself comfortable. She pulled the comforter to her waist, and added, "When I'm done getting some rest. Or when you break free."
"This isn't funny, Brooke," Sam retorted, "What if my mom or your dad walk in on this?"
"They won't," Brooke shook her head, "I locked both doors. Nobody will come in without knocking first and by then I'll be able to get the key and let you out since I doubt you'll get yourself out of this mess."
"There's a key?" Sam threw her head back. She didn't even begin to know how to get herself free, let alone how to get Brooke close enough to do anything about the predicament she was in. "Come on, this really isn't funny..."
"Yes, it really is," Brooke laughed. She laughed, because the key was firmly lodged between her breasts. Unless Sam was Superman and broke free of the handcuffs, there was no way she was getting anywhere near that key. That was Brooke's plan, drive Sam to the edge and bring her back again when the time was right.
"No, it's not," Sam frowned, struggling again furiously against her chains. She wasn't happy, and Brooke would pay for leading her on and leaving her hanging like this. It was a new game, and she was up for the challenge, because payback would be sweet. "What if the chair falls over?"
"Then, you're an idiot." Brooke closed her eyes, snuggled into Sam's pillow and listened as Sam continued to struggle. "And I'll laugh."
"Well," Sam tried to think of anything to get Brooke to get out of bed, "What if my nose itches?" Brooke smiled again.
"Get yourself out and scratch it," Brooke responded. "I'm certainly not going to scratch your nose for you."
'Oh, she's so going to get it,' Sam thought to herself, giving up her struggle in defeat as a smirk crept across Brooke's face. 'I didn't even get to come up with a safety word...'
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