As the cab pulled through the large iron gates of the estate, Spike sighed in annoyance. He wished he could tell the driver just to turn around and leave. He hated this. He hated having to come to some nancy boy cocktail party to meet some uptight head honcho just to get his book published.

This was all his agent Wesley’s idea. If he wanted to get his book published in the U.S., Angelus Publishing was his best shot. They had all but signed a lucrative two-book deal. The only obstacle remaining was to meet the man in charge.

So against his will, Spike was forced to fly to a city he despised, to socialize with a bunch of phony bastards. This was the only part of being a writer he hated. All he wanted was to be left alone, but in this business, as in most, it was all about who you know.

Wesley had warned him about Liam Angelus. He was the type of man who, if crossed not only ruined your career, but also took great pleasure destroying your life. Angelus was a powerful man, who was rumored to have ties in organized crime. Not exactly the type of man Spike was anxious to associated with, but he was an unknown in the U.S., so his options were limited.

Spike just had to get through this cocktail party. He was so close to his lifelong dream. For one night he could plaster a smile on his face and feign interest in meeting Angelus.

Casual get together my arse, Spike thought walking through the huge double doors. Waiters bustled around carrying trays of champaign and hors d’oeuvres, as stuffy, old, big-wigs huddled in circles planning their next big take over.

Quickly scanning the room, his eyes stopped at the bar. Well now, maybe this party won’t be so bad after all, Spike thought, noticing the delicious blond at the bar.

She stared directly at him as she lifted an olive out of her martini and brought it up to her mouth. Her pink tongue flicked out to capture it and slowly drag it between her full, painted lips.

Spike’s cock jumped immediately at her shameless taunting. He couldn’t help but smirk when she leaned back on the bar, almost daring him to approach her. Deciding play her little game, he turned and headed to the other bar on the far side of the room.

After ordering a jack and coke, he turned back toward the mysterious vixen. He chuckled when he noticed her small pout. Spike never had a problem with the ladies. His only dilemma was finding one who held his interest. He didn’t remember ever being so immediately aroused by a woman. She was just a slip of a girl, with a mane of soft blond curls that fell to her shoulders. She had a mischief in her eyes that intrigued him. She’s a little spitfire, Spike thought, raising his glass to toast her.

She smiled lifting her glass, returning his toast. After finishing her martini, she turned and walked through the large glass doors and out to the patio.

Spike’s smile immediately faded. Was she leaving, he wondered. He knew he should be looking for Angelus, but the night was young. The thought of taking this beauty back to his hotel room after the meeting was just too tempting. Finishing his drink, he stalked out the door after her.

As he walked out onto the patio, Spike caught a glimpse of her walking down a long stone pathway. His cock hardened as he watched her rounded bottom sway in her tight fitting dress.

He followed her down the path reminding himself that he had to make this quick. He would talk to her, get her number, then call her after the meeting to join him for a drink in his hotel room.

As Spike rounded the corner, he noticed the large lagoon style swimming pool. Not seeing the blond, he stepped further into the courtyard.

“What took you so long?” he heard a voice suddenly behind him.

He smirked turning towards her, but before he could say a word, she grabbed the back of his neck and smashed her lips against his.

Spike moaned against her mouth as she pressed her body against his. When he felt her tongue plunge into his mouth, Spike reached around to grasp her rounded globes pressing her into his erection. The blond whimpered wrapping a muscular thigh around his, grinding her damp center against him.

As their tongues battled for dominance the vixen continued to rubbing her hot little pussy on his staining erection. Knowing if he didn’t do something now, he would fuck the bird right here on the pavement, Spike broke the kiss.

“Listen kitten, don’t think for a second I’m not enjoying this...” His words were cut off when she attacked his lips again.

“Fuck baby…you’re killing me here…I don’t even know your name.” he panted between kisses.

She pulled back suddenly with fire in her eyes. “Does it really matter?” she challenged.

Spike chuckled “I just want to make sure you’ll respect me in the morning,”” he smirked tucking his tongue behind his teeth.

The blond took his hand, pulling him over to a long row of chairs. She pushed his chest causing him to fall back onto a large fluffy chaise lounge.

A feline smile curved her lips. “How about instead of respecting you in the morning, I fuck your brains out tonight?”

For one of the first times in his life, Spike was speechless. He reclined on the chaise mesmerized as she pulled her thin, black dress over her head and draped it across the adjacent chair. She stood before him like a goddess, wearing nothing but a lacy, black thong and her strappy high heal shoes.

Her body was perfect. Tanned and muscular yet curved and soft in all the right places. Seeing the vision before him, the last of his resolve crumbled. Spike reached out, grabbing her hand and pulled her on abruptly top of him.

There movement became frenzied. His hands traveling quickly over her body wanting to touch every inch of her golden skin. He felt her small hands roughly wrench his shirt up and over his head. Spike leaned forward tugging at her pert nipple with his teeth as he ripped her thong off. The blond squealed in delight, grinding her dripping pussy against his clothed, straining cock.

She began fumbling with his belt, desperately trying to free his erection. Her hurried, frantic attempts finally paid off. As soon as his cock sprang free, the minx lifted her hips and slammed herself down onto it.

They both stilled, moaning at the sensation as her tight pussy stretched to accommodate his considerable size. Lifting herself up, she once again crashed back down on his dick. Growling, Spike grasped her hips and thrust up into her, causing her head to fall back in ecstasy. There pace became frenzied as she bounced on his cock raking her nails down his chest.

Spike’s grip on her hips was bruising as he continued driving up, hitting her continuously hard and deep. The party, the meeting all faded away. His thoughts instead were consumed by the woman above him. Her smell, her soft skin and the tight heat surrounding his cock as they raced toward nirvana.

“So hot…so fucking tight,” Spike grunted scraping his teeth against her nipple.

The blonde’s thighs began trembling as she bucked wildly, almost painfully, on his dick. Her pussy clamped down, as her first orgasm pulsed through her. Pulling her down, Spike attacked her mouth just as she screamed out her climax. Spike continued thrusting up into her as her body quivered with aftershocks.

“Come for me again, kitten,” Spike commanded snaking his nimble fingers between their bodies to stroke her swollen clit.

He brought his mouth back to her nipples, licking and gently biting the rosy buds as he continued pinching and stroking her nubbin.

“Oh fuck…Oh God! I’m coming,” she cried out biting down into his shoulder.

The combination of her tight pussy contracting his cock, drenching him with her juices and the pain of her teeth in his shoulder sent him spiraling over the edge. Spike buried his face in her neck as he shot his load deep inside of her.

She continued to slowly move on him as they rode out their orgasms. Placing her forehead against his, she smiled “My name is Buffy.”

He chuckled “I’m Spike,” he panted, his hands still firmly on her hips.

“Yes…you are,” she smiled as she extracted herself from his embrace.

Buffy handed him his discarded clothes then motioned for him to turn around.

“You’re kidding! Now you’re shy?” He smirked.

“Do you mind?” She asked smiling coyly.

Shrugging he turned around still laughing as he attempted to redress himself.

“Is it safe to turn around yet?” He teased.

Silence.

When he turned around, the blond was gone.

Spike walked back to the mansion dazed. He wanted to look for her but he knew he couldn’t. If he didn’t meet with Angelus soon, he could ruin the whole deal.

Entering the hall he was approached by nervous looking man, “are you William Radcliffe?”

“Thas’ me,” Spike smirked.

“Hi, I’m Andrew, Mr. Angelus is waiting for you. Right this way.”

The small man hurried past Spike directing him to a long hallway where a small group of men were convened. A large beefy man approached Spike with a scowl. One night, you can do it! Just kiss ass for one night, he reminded himself.

“You Radcliffe?” he sneered.

“Yes, William Radcliffe, you must be Mr. Angelus.” Spike smiled, gritting his teeth as he offered his hand.

“I’m a busy man Mr. Radcliffe,” Angelus informed him.

“I understand that and I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”” Spike stated.

“Yes, well I like to see how my money is being spent. I hear your writing is pretty good.”

“You hear?” Spike asked.

“Yes, the publishing company is such a small part of my business, I don’t have time to deal with the day to day nonsense.” Angelus chuckled leading him through a large set of mahogany doors.

“My wife will be your contact, she is a fan of your writing. Come on, I want you to meet her.” He stated walking toward a small group of people.

Following him to the center of the room Spike called out nervously “Oh, okay. That sounds like a great idea. I’m always pleased to meet a fan.”

Angelus stepped aside allowing the small woman beside him to step forward.

It was her. Buffy. Spike’s eyes widened.

“Oh, no Mr. Radcliffe pleasure’s all mine,” she purred offering him her small hand.

Spike tossed and turned, his naked limbs twisting in the expensive motel sheets. However, tonight sleep eluded him. He was so close to fulfilling his dreams that he could practically taste it, but because of his careless actions now he could lose it all.

He hadn’t stopped to check her finger for a ring, hadn’t bothered to remember why he had come to the party, bloody hell I didn’t even wear a sodden condom, he groaned. But even as he lay in the darkened hotel room, he couldn’t deny he wanted her still. He was hard just thinking of the way their bodies moved together. She was so full of passion and fire and her eyes, they haunted him. A lesser man could lose himself in their emerald depths. But not Spike, he was determined to keep his eye on the prize. He had worked too long and hard to let some chit come along and bollocks the whole thing up for him. From now on it was strictly business.

Yeah, right, he moaned as he climbed out of bed to take another cold shower.



********************

Buffy stood in front of the mirror combing her dampened hair. She knew she had behaved foolishly. Not only had she been unfaithful to her husband, but she had blatantly flirted with Spike right in front of Liam. But she had looked forward to this meeting for months. For months she had dreamed of meeting the man behind the words. William “Spike” Radcliffe’s books were the tales of rugged private eye Drake Rogers. His books were exciting and erotic. So many nights she lay in bed, escaping in his stories. So many nights she ached for the kind of man he wrote about. A hero to come rescue her from her life.

Buffy had fantasized endlessly that it was her that he was making love to. She became every heroine, every damsel in distress. Every woman hero Drake Rogers had ever saved.

After finally seeing Spike’s picture, Buffy knew she had to meet him. Seducing him like she had was risky, but she was certain once he found out who her husband was, she would have lost her only opportunity. Everyone was afraid of her husband and rightly so. He was a cruel man who was insanely jealous of any man who dared look at what was his.

Buffy knew she had taken a huge risk for one moment of raw passion but she had not been disappointed. His touch had surpassed her wildest expectations. As erotic as his writing was, she was not prepared for the intensity of his love making.

“Hello, lover,” Liam appeared in the mirror behind her.

Buffy’s eyes widened, surprised by her husband’s sudden appearance. Usually on nights like tonight he stayed downstairs drinking and talking business until the wee hours of the morning. The fact that he was here in the bathroom this early did not bode well for Buffy.

Liam softly caressed her arm, his eyes never leaving hers. Buffy watched him cautiously in the mirror, forcing herself to smile. Bringing a hand up, he stroked her face gently.

“You were a very naughty girl tonight, weren’t you, Elizabeth?” Liam smiled.

It was a cold smile that sent a shiver straight down her spine.

“What do you mean, darling?” Buffy asked innocently.

“Acting like a little slut in front of that nobody. Making him look at you like he had no business looking at you. Were you trying to make me jealous, lover? Were you trying to get my attention?” he asked lightly gripping her throat.

“No…um no, baby, I just drank too much. I didn’t even realize I was…” Buffy’s words were choked off when Liam tightened his grip.

“Do you want to fuck him?”

“What…no…he is just some…stupid writer. I was just trying to make him nervous…really.” Buffy gasped.

Liam loosened his grip studying his wife in the mirror.

“You did make him squirm.” Liam chuckled.

Buffy let out a breath just in time for him to tighten his grip again.

“Don’t do it again. You want my attention all you have to do is ask.” he murmured nuzzling her hair. “You’re mine, Elizabeth. I love you so much.” He whispered kissing her shoulder.It makes me crazy to think of another man wanting you. You know I would kill him if he touched you…don’t you, lover?” He warned pulling at her nightgown strap until it snapped, falling to the floor.

“Yes…Liam. I know.” she whispered as tears burned her eyes.

Liam turned her around, his eyes raked possessively down her body.

“Besides we all know that no one would want you if they knew the truth…would they, Elizabeth?” he sneered.

“No…just you, Liam. I’m just yours.” Buffy choked back a sob.

“That’s my little lover. Now come to bed.” He demanded leading her out of the bathroom.


********************


Buffy rushed thought her office door straightening her skirt. She had spent endless hours in front of the mirror trying to look just right. She had finally decided on a straight black skirt falling just above her knees, with an emerald green silk blouse. She had kept her makeup simple and her hair was swept up on her head with a few stray curls framing her face.

She pretended her attention to detail was the result of her new position as the head of the publishing division, but she knew it had more to do with her first appointment.

“Good morning, Andrew.” Buffy beamed.

“Good morning, Mrs. Ang…I mean Ms. Summers.” Andrew smiled sheepishly.


“Has Mr. Radcliffe arrived yet?” Buffy asked nonchalantly.

“Yes ma’am, he is waiting in your office.” Andrew smiled.

“Great…hold all my calls.” Buffy smirked.

Spike paced back and forth trying to mentally prepare himself. It had been over a week since he had seen Buffy. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. When Wes had called to say she was requesting a meeting he was sure he could handle it. Now sitting here in her office, he was having second thoughts.

When the door opened, he turned and froze where he stood. She was radiant. Where Buffy had appeared sexy and free-spirited at the party, today she was classy and elegant. Spike closed his eyes inhaling her sweet scent.

“Mr. Radcliffe, I’m so sorry I’m late.” Buffy smiled offering her small hand.

Spike numbly took her hand feeling a bolt of electricity at her touch. He quickly pulled his hand back and walked to the chair on the far side of the room. He felt an immediate need to put some distance between them.

“What is this all about?” He asked staring at the floor.

“Your book deal. What else would it be about?” She purred.

Spike stood up closing the distance between them. He had been determined not to bring up there rendezvous, but being here with her now, he knew that was impossible.

“Listen, I don’t know what you are trying to pull, but I don’t enjoy being jerked around.” Spike narrowed his eyes.

Buffy looked up innocently, “I‘m not trying to pull anything, Mr. Radcliffe. I’m sure you will find the contract is quite generous.”

“I’m not talking about the bloody contract!” Spike yelled.

Buffy sighed, “Listen if this is about what happened the other night…”

“Damn right it is about what happened the other night! Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” Spike roared.

“That‘s funny, Mr. Radcliffe, I don’t remember you being overly concerned with that.” Buffy smirked.

“I don’t make a habit of sleeping with married women, especially ones married to my future boss.” Spike retorted through gritted teeth.

“I was wearing my ring and technically I’m your boss, not my husband.” Buffy looked at him amused.

Spike again began to pace, he was furious. How could she take this so lightly? Like it wouldn’t even have any effect on their working together.

“It was wrong, it shouldn’t have happened.” Spike forced out, with his back turned to her.

Buffy couldn’t help feeling stung by his words. Even though she had continually told herself it could never happen again, somehow knowing he regretted it almost brought her to tears.

“Fine, it was wrong! I get it! Now can we just forget about it already and get some business done?” Buffy spat defensively.

Spike turned narrowing his eyes at her. “It’s already forgotten,” he answered coldly.

“Great!” Buffy screamed.

“Fine!” Spike yelled taking a step towards her.

“Well, I certainly hope this isn’t how you greet all my new clients, darling.” Liam chuckled from the doorway.

“Liam,” Buffy choked as her eyes widened. Her hand instinctively went to her neck. Though the bruises had all faded, she hadn’t forgotten the feeling of his large hand wrapped tightly around her throat. It had remained there the entire time, squeezing as he fiercely pumped into her until she had finally passed out. She had awoken some time later to his soft words of apology and love.

“Hello, Elizabeth, I thought I would stop by and see how your meeting was going. Is everything okay?” Liam walked over to where she stood before wrapping his arms possessively around his wife.

Buffy was clearly flustered. “Oh, of course, we…a…just had a few…plot disagreements.”

“Really? I didn’t realize you would take plot advice from a novice, Mr. Radcliffe.” Liam raised an eyebrow.

Spike knew the comment was clearly an insult to Buffy. He felt a sudden need to defend the blond.

“You said yourself she is a reader of my work. Sometime they are the true experts,” Spike countered.

Liam was recognizably annoyed. “Yes, well, I suppose you are going to need all the help you can get. I spoke with some of my business associates and have decided I want to move forward a little quicker than originally planned. I have a new contract here. Feel free to look it over,” Liam announced taking out a folder from his briefcase.

“New contract? Liam…” Buffy started.

Liam sent her a stern look, “Elizabeth I told you from the beginning I would step in as I see fit.”

“Bloody hell…December? You want the first print to be out in December?” Spike blurted out.

Liam chuckled, “Looks like if you want the contract, you better get to writing.”

“I’m staying at a hotel. I haven’t had time to make arrangements. All of my things are still in London,” Spike announced.

“If you need a place to stay, I have a rather large guest house at my estate. I will have Jonathon make the necessary preparations, that way Elizabeth can be there to assist you with whatever you need.” Liam sneered.

“What? No, I can’t, Liam. I have the whole publishing division to run,” Buffy argued.

Liam sighed, “I have decided to make this a trial run. Right now Radcliffe is our only client. If it works out, then we can go on from there.”

“But that isn’t what you said. You promised…” Buffy bit back a sob of humiliation.

“Elizabeth! That is enough!” He grabbed Buffy’s arm escorting her out of the office.

“If you will excuse us for a moment, Mr. Radcliffe.” Liam called over his shoulder.

Spike wanted to follow. Seeing him wrap his meaty paws around Buffy’s slim arm angered him. He could hear them arguing in the hall outside the office door.

“Andrew, get lost!” Liam demanded watching the boy scamper away.

“I will not explain to you or anyone else what I choose to do with my money. And you won'tembarrass me like that! Are we clear?” Liam’s voce was low and threatening.

“Now, I have work to do. Get your pretty little ass back in there and get him to sign that fucking contract. Or can’t you handle that by yourself either?” Liam mocked.

“I…I’ll do it,” Buffy sobbed.

Liam stroked her tears from her eyes and sighed, “Come home early and I will take you out for a nice dinner, anywhere you want to go, okay?” he smiled kissing her soundly on the lips.

Buffy nodded. When Liam walked out the door she turned to look at her office door. How could she go in there now? Liam had completely humiliated her. Spike would think she was a total idiot incapable of doing her job.

Steeling herself, she wiped the moisture from her face. Buffy plastered on a bright smile and opened her door.

“I signed it,” Spike said simply handing her the envelope.

“Wha…don’t you want to have someone look over it first?” Buffy looked stunned.

“Nope,” he answered walking towards the door. He stopped and turned around looking Buffy right in the eyes, “I will see you on Saturday.”

“What happens on Saturday?” Buffy asked numbly.

“I’m moving into your guest house.” Spike smiled.

Liam strolled into his office, sneering at the man propped on his desk. “What the hell are you doing in my office, McDonald?”

“Nice to see you too, Angelus,” Lindsey chuckled, “so…did you get Radcliffe to sign?”

A grin spread across Liam’s face, “Papers are being messengered over as we speak.”

“How’d you manage that? Didn’t he know about the Random House deal? They were going to offer him twice as much,” Lindsey raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say I made sure the deal was put on hold until we had him under contract. I even have him staying in my guest house.” Liam smirked.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? You said yourself how enamored with his writing Buffy was.”

“Her name is Elizabeth, and have you seen this guy? He’s a joke. He’s just some bad boy wannabe with a bad dye job,” Liam sneered, “besides, I can handle my wife.”

********************

Buffy paced back and forth, nearly wearing a path in the plush carpet. She knew he’d moved in today. Her stomach was in knots. She rolled her eyes at her agitation. I’m acting like a schoolgirl, she thought, running her sweaty palms down the sides of her jeans.


********************


Spike’s eyes traveled across the spacious cottage. It was more spacious and luxurious than most of the places he’d ever called home. It had a huge master bedroom, complete with an opulent master bath. There was a broad living room with twin plush cream-colored couches facing a huge stone fireplace.

On the far side of the room, was a vastmahogany desk in front of a large bay window. Spike looked out the window, sighing when he noticed the perfect view of the pool. His gaze traveled to the lounge chair where he had been with Buffy only nights before.

Spike screwed his eyes shut, willing away the images of her graceful body as she moved above him. His mind reeled as he tore open one of the taped boxes and grabbed his bottle of Jack Daniels.

She was playing him, he was sure of it. He just wasn’t sure what it was that she wanted, but the one thing he knew for certain, was that he couldn’t trust her. Or yourself, when she’s around, he reminded himself.


********************

Buffy pasted on her brightest smile as she walked tentatively across the pool deck. She’d rehearsed her welcome speech carefully, and tried her best to dress the part in a simple pair of low riding jeans and a peasant blouse. Her hair was swept up in a ponytail. She’d forgone makeup completely. Just a friendly hello, she told herself. Any hostess would check to make sure their guest was comfortable, she added, feeling her heartbeat increase with every step closer to the cottage.

She’d just raised her hand to knock on the door, when it was suddenly flung open.

“What the hell do you want?”

Buffy’s eyes widened as they met his storm blue gaze. She was sure they penetrated right through her skin.

She saw the bottle in his hand and knew instantly that he was drunk. He smelled of smoke and alcohol. A masculine smell that brought her senses alive. Buffy was taken aback by his anger, but couldn’t control the involuntary shiver that tore through her body. The air seemed to crackle around them. For a long moment neither one of them spoke.

Spike knew he’d had far too much to drink. He was also fully aware that he had no right to be this enraged by her presence. Though she hadn’t been up front with him, she certainly hadn’t forced him to do anything against his will. There was just something about her that made his every emotional response that much more intense.

“I…uh…,” she never got the rest out. Spike grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her into the room, then backed her against the door.

He was close, so close she could smell the liquor on his breath. It wasn’t the alcohol however, that was intoxicating her.

Spike inhaled her scent; she smelled of citrus and lavender.

“What…what are you…doing?” she asked in a shaky voice.

Spike ran the back of his hand gently down the side of her face. “So beautiful,” he whispered.

Buffy felt herself melting into his touch as her body reacted immediately to the dangerous edge in his voice.
His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips, his fingers ghosting over them as he spoke. “I just wonder which one is really you,” he said, tilting his head to the side.

“Are you the sweet, beautiful girl in front of me?” He asked, as a smile tugged his lips.

“Or are you the cold bitch who was at your office…or the whore I met at the party?” Spike knew he had crossed the line. He didn’t miss the hurt that flashed in her eyes, nor did he miss how quickly she was able to push it back. What he hadn’t noticed, was her knee coming up between them, until he felt it slam against his groin.

Buffy watched as his face contorted in pain before he fell to the floor grasping his crotch. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let him see her cry.

“What I am is your boss and I expect in the future you will watch your fucking mouth. Now, get your drunken ass up and start writing. That is what you’re getting paid for.” Buffy turned and hurried out the door. Tears streamed down her face as she hurried toward the house.

He’s no different, she sobbed. All the men she’d ever met were the same. She didn’t know why she thought just because he could write pretty words and intense emotions that he would feel them, especially for her.

Spike groaned as he lay on the floor clutching his injured manhood. He’d all but expected her reaction. He’d expected her anger; even her attack hadn’t been a complete surprise. What he hadn’t expected was the hurt that flashed in her eyes. He hadn’t expected the look of utter disappointment that shone so clearly for that brief second. He closed his eyes, trying to force away the guilt that was creeping in. It’s for the best, he told himself, crawling over to grab his bottle of discarded whiskey.

AN*** There is some violence in this chapter that may bother some readers


Buffy sat poking her fork at her untouched breakfast. Liam was next to her, reading his newspaper, just like every morning. This was the life she had chosen seven years ago and she’d made a point never to question that decision, after all, at the time, there wasn’t any other choice. Living here in this mansion, with a closet full of clothes, a garage full of cars and a husband who offered her every luxury imaginable, Buffy knew she had no reason to complain. However, lately she couldn’t help feeling more empty and alone than she ever had before.

When she looked in the mirror, she was horrified at what was reflected back to her. Gone was the bright eyed, hopeful Buffy Summers and in her place was a woman she could barely recognize. The woman Liam had groomed her to be.

Buffy knew why she was only now allowing herself to question her life. She’d foolishly let herself believe that somehow, Spike would save her, but she didn’t honestly know what was left of her to save. He was right to question her identity. She’d been pretending for so long, she wasn’t sure who the real her was anymore. The one thing she knew for sure was that he was no savior.

“Elizabeth…” she heard Liam’s voice calling.

“Huh?” Buffy looked up, half-dazed.

“I was talking to you, are you fucking deaf?” Liam snapped, clearly annoyed.

Buffy looked into his eyes, angry they were cold and dead. Is that what mine look like? she silently wondered. “I’m sorry…I’m just a little out of it today.”

“I asked what your plans were for today.” he repeated.

“Oh I…I’m going to meet with Willow and Tara later.”

Liam let out a long sigh, “Elizabeth, I really wish you would find friends…within our social circle.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “What are you talking about? Willow is a college professor and Tara owns her own bookstore, you act as if they’re vagrants.”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with them…it’s just…”

“They’re gay?”

“Elizabeth,” Liam groaned. “I’m not getting into this with you today.”

“Why not? You don’t mind criticizing everything else, why not my friends?” she snapped, aware she was goading him.

Liam placed his hand on hers. “Sometimes, I think you intentionally try to make me angry. I’m not trying to criticize you, darling; I’m just trying to help you.”

“Yeah, like the other day when you took over my meeting?” Buffy cocked an eyebrow.

He smiled, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek. “You did a wonderful job getting Radcliffe to sign the contract.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “What was all that about anyway…you know, having him stay here?”

“Just business,” he replied, gathering up his newspaper, before sneering. “It seems he is gaining quite a name for himself. He was about to get a deal worth twice what we were offering…and as you know, I always win.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, she couldn’t believe what her husband was telling her. A part of her couldn’t deny that Spike had only signed the contract immediately because he had felt sorry for her. She’d drawn him into her life. She’d been the one pushing Liam to sign him. Though truth be told, a part of her, still stung by his cruel words, felt he deserved whatever he got. After all, he was a big boy, making his own decisions.

“Don’t you feel like we should have told him?’ she asked in a small voice.

“Elizabeth, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re never going make it in the business world by having a bleeding heart.”

“I didn’t want to sign him on to make money; I did it because…I enjoy his writing.” she stammered afraid her husband would start to question her motives.

When Liam moved to place his hand on top of hers, Buffy had to stop herself from physically yanking it away. “Honey, let’s just drop it. He’s signed now and it’s over. Now, there’s something more important we need to talk about,” he said dismissively. “I’ll be really busy the next couple weeks, we’re in negotiations to take over a small brokerage firm in New York, but what do you say at the end of the month we go to Hawaii?”

“Hawaii?” She furrowed her brow.

“Or would you rather just throw a big party?” he asked, leaning in to kiss her.

“Liam, what are you talking about?”

“Your birthday? Do you want a party, Hawaii, both?” He smiled.

Buffy rolled her eyes; she had completely forgotten her birthday was coming up. Time had started to meld together into one big blur of days, months, and years of her life disappearing before her.

“I…I guess a party is ok, as long as I get to make the guest list,” she challenged.

Liam sighed, bringing his hands up to rub his temples. “Is this about the fucking lesbians again?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “No, it’s about having a party that is about my birthday, not your business contacts.”

“When are you going to get it, Elizabeth? It’s those business contacts that pay the fucking bills around here!” he spat.

She stood abruptly, slamming her fork down on her plate. “Just forget it, I don’t want a party and I don’t want to go to Hawaii.”

Liam roughly shoved the plates from the table. “Stop acting like a spoiled little bitch,” he roared, grabbing her arm.

“I’m not,” she defended. “I just don’t want to spend my birthday with your friends.”

He pulled her so hard that her feet left the ground as he slammed her into the wall. Buffy cried out in pain when his grip tightened like a vice on her arm.

“You just couldn’t let it go, could you? Here I am trying to plan a nice birthday party for you and you have to push my buttons. Are you happy now?” he asked, shaking her like a rag doll.

Buffy knew from experience she say nothing, but the words left her mouth before she could stop them. “I’ve never been happy with you,” she screamed to his face.

Liam roughly shoved her to the ground, hovering over her. “You ungrateful whore! Why do you make me do this? Can’t you see how much I love you?” He seethed, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back up against him.

“Please just leave me alone,” she sobbed.

“Never…you hear me? You’re mine and you always will be,” he answered, lifting her chin to look at him.

Buffy felt the bile rise in her throat as he smashed his lips against hers, then as if none of it had ever happened, he released her.

“I’ll be home late tonight, go get cleaned up and call me when you get home from your lunch,” he instructed.

Buffy watched as he turned and casually walked over to gather his papers and left the room. She sagged back against the wall, letting her body slide down until she reached the floor. Closing her eyes, she was overwhelmed with a feeling of hopelessness. This was her life…there was no savior and she knew she no longer had the strength to save herself.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



“Bloody Hell,” Spike cursed, as he slammed his leg once again into the sharp corner of the coffee table. He paced back and forth across the small cottage like a caged panther. Upon first appearance, the place had seemed perfect, now only days later, he felt imprisoned. The small, decorative coffee table had turned into a torture device with its lethal metal corners perfectly placed at shin height for maximum damage. His bed was covered in an endless sea of fluffy pastel pillows that drove him to fall asleep on the plush sofa, which apparently was meticulously positioned to face the morning sun.

He was groggy and irritated, his fingers itched to pick up the bottle beckoning to him from across the room, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to talk to Buffy. Spike hadn’t been able to contain the guilt from gnawing at him ever since their last encounter. That one brief flash of pain in her eyes haunted him. She was such a mystery, all sweet and seductive one minute, then guarded and unreachable the next. Something deep inside of him compelled him to learn more about her, but he knew he had to keep his distance. There was no future in pursuing a married woman, especially one whose husband could end his career with a swipe of his pen.

Spike was pulled from his thoughts by the vibration of his cell phone. A quick check told him what he had already suspected. It was his agent, Wes. Probably calling to bitch me out about signing that contract, Spike sighed. But he’ll have to wait until later. Spike smiled to himself, noticing the shiny black Mercedes rolling down the long driveway.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy wasn’t sure how long she’d been slouched on the floor when she heard the faint knock at the back door. Struggling to stand, she numbly moved to the kitchen toward the faint sound. She was certain it was only one of the staff arriving early. She didn’t even bother to clean up, her husband’s violent tendencies were well known by the staff and right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care about how she must look.

The weary look on Spike’s face quickly turned to one of concern when Buffy opened the door. Her eyes were puffy and red and fresh tear tracks stained her flawless face.

Spike placed his hand on her shoulder, “Pet, what’s the matter?”

He pulled his hand quickly back when Buffy winced in pain. His eyes narrowed as he saw large bruises forming on her small arms.

Buffy’s eyes widened as she noticed the fresh marks on her arms, she pulled them to her hugging herself. “What do you want?”

He moved past her, holding up a stack of papers.

“I brought you an outline,” he said, placing the bundle on the kitchen counter.

“Buffy, who did that to you?” he asked, trying his best to keep the rage from his voice.

She could see the distress in his stormy blue eyes and for a brief second was tempted to break down in his arms, but his hurtful words came rushing back to her, are you the cold bitch who was at your office…or the whore I met at the party?

“Why? Are you here to save me, William?” she snorted.

“Buffy, he has no right to hurt you like that.”

“Oh please, don’t make me laugh. You don’t know me, so don’t pretend you do,” she spat, turning her back on him and trying to control her shaking voice.

“Love, maybe I don’t know you, but I know you deserve better than to be treated like that,” he replied in a whisper.

Closing her eyes, Buffy fought for control of her emotions. Part of her desperately wanted to believe this man could still be her savior, but her battered soul refused to trust his words.

Steeling herself, she whirled around and shrugged. “I don’t need your sympathy, the truth is I like it a little rough.”

Spike looked at her skeptically.

“What, does that surprise you? You think that just because I spread my legs for you, you know anything about me? I only did it to get you to sign that contract.” She sneered.

“That doesn’t even make sense, I wanted to sign.”

“Oh yeah? Did you know you were about to get another offer?”

“What are you on about?” Spike frowned.

“If you don’t believe me, call your agent,” Buffy said, placing her hands on her hips.

Spike opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. Wes had been calling him continuously for the past two days. It made sense that what she said could be true.

Buffy felt her chest tighten as realization spread across his face. “You were easy, Spike, pathetically so.”

Spike took a menacing step forward, his face only inches from hers. A chill ran down her spine as she looked into the fiery depths of his eyes.

“What are you going to do, Spikey, hit me? I just might like it. I…” Her words were interrupted when he dipped his head and covered her lips with his.

Buffy was stunned. Feeling his soft lips on hers had her mind spinning with confusion and her body humming with desire. His tongue danced along her lower lip, not harsh and demanding, only eagerly begging entrance. Losing herself in the sensation, she slowly opened her mouth, stroking his tongue with her own.

The tension left her body as she felt one of his hands come up to tangle in her hair, while the other traveled down her back to the swell of her bottom, pressing her firmly against him. Buffy heard a low growl erupt from his throat as her leg came up to wrap around his.

Desire flooded through her as his growing erection pressed against her stomach. Then as suddenly as he’d started, he broke the kiss.

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open. Spike smirked at the dazed expression on her face.

“What…why did you do that?” Buffy muttered softly.

“There’s more than one way to shut a pretty lady up.” He chuckled when he saw the fire in her eyes.

She was still reeling as she watched him walk out the back door and across the vast lawn. She was angry, both with him and herself for allowing it to happen, for letting herself get so caught up in his touch.

She numbly walked over to the table and picked up the stack of papers. Shuffling through them a small folded sheet dropped out. Buffy bent down to pick it up.

It was notebook paper and at first glance, appeared to be simply trash, but as Buffy slowly unfolded it, she saw the small handwritten lines.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue

Buffy stood frozen rereading the poem as a thousand questions filled her head. Had Spike written this, if so… when? She couldn’t stop the wave of jealousy that filled her as she wondered who he could have written for. Was he involved with someone? Of course there must be women in his life. He was attractive, successful, but he hasn’t mentioned another woman, a small hopeful voice inside her said.

There was such fire and passion in his words, the poem invoking feelings inside her that she was not ready to admit. Yet, much as she liked to, Buffy couldn’t escape the desire for those words to be for her.

Buffy’s heart raced as she walked into the small café. Seeing Willow across the room waving madly, she smiled nervously approaching her two friends. So much had happened in her life lately she wasn’t sure how well she would be able to hide it from two of her best friends. Though truth be told, she had gotten quite good at concealing certain unsavory parts of her life.

“Buffy, it’s so good to see you,” Willow jumped out of her seat enthusiastically embracing her friend.

Buffy fought to suppress her reaction as Willow squeezed her. “Geez Will, it hasn’t been that long.” Buffy quickly released the red head, walking over to the table and giving Tara a hug before taking her seat.

“So, tell us all about your new job.” Willow bounced excitedly in her seat.

Her two friends noticed the smile on Buffy’s face instantly fell. “I-it’s great,” she muttered picking up her menu.

Willow grabbed the menu form that was hiding her friend’s face, “Buffy, don’t hide, and tell me what happened?”

Buffy sighed, looking at the couple. She knew she had to walk a fine line when it came to their friendship. If her friends ever had a clue of the extent of Liam’s abuse, they would have her bags packed within the hour, however she had never told them about her past. A past that forever tied her to her husband. Though she truly considered Willow and Tara her closest friends, she knew she could never tell them the truth.

“Liam changed his mind. He decided he wanted to take things slow.” Buffy shrugged nonchalantly.

“Take things slow? What is that supposed to mean?” Willow narrowed her eyes.

Tara sensing Buffy’s discomfort patted her lover’s arm before saying, “Let Buffy talk, sweetie.”

Buffy took a deep breath, trying to both find the words and keep from getting upset in front of her friends. “Well, Liam decided that we should just sign one author and see how it goes from there.”

“O-kay, did you at least get the author you wanted to sign?” Willow frowned.

“Sp…William Radcliffe? Yes, we signed him.” Buffy answered once again, directing her attention to her menu.

Tara teasingly snatched the menu from her friend, “So…is he as handsome in person as in the pictures I’ve seen of him?”

“Tara!” Buffy gasped.

“What? I’m gay, not blind.” Tara shrugged, earning her a giggle from her lover.

“I don’t know, I guess he looks the same as in his pictures.” Buffy mumbled, shifting in her chair, suddenly very uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” Willow asked, studying her friend.

“Nothing,” Buffy answered too quickly.

“Are you not getting along with him?” Tara asked.

“Yes, well no…I mean…it’s just complicated. Listen guys, I’m not feeling very well. Can we just do this some other time?” Buffy stood quickly, grabbing her purse to leave.

“Buffy, what’s wrong? Did I say something…” Willow stood up to follow her friend.

Buffy held up her hand “No, Willow, really, I just feel a little sick. I’m going to go home and lie down. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Tara and Willow watched their friend as she scurried out of the restaurant. “What do you think that was all about?” the redhead asked her girlfriend.

“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with William Radcliffe,” Tara answered with a sigh.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike glared at the blinking cursor on the blank white page. Every time he tried to type, his thoughts returned to Buffy. Part of him was furious with her. Wesley had confirmed that there had indeed been another offer, one that would have allowed him more creative freedom as well as more money. However, his mind kept drifting to the defeated look on her face when she opened the door and the large hand-sized bruises that marred her golden skin.

He picked up his empty glass and flung it toward the wall. Just who did Liam Angeles think he was? No man had the right to put his hands on a woman like that…especially on her. Spike closed his eyes letting his head fall back. What had she done to him? Why did he feel such an overwhelming need to know who she really was? A need to protect her.

Buffy had invaded his thoughts and had even crept into his writing. Now the tall, leggy brunette he had been imagining for his latest story had suddenly become a petite blond with intoxicating eyes and pink pouting lips. Slamming his laptop shut, Spike went to the kitchen in search of liquid solace.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy paused, studying the wrinkled paper in her hands. After her scene in the restaurant with Willow and Tara, she’d decided it was time to take control of things with Spike. He was just a man. She was used to dealing with men. She knew just how to turn on the charm and get exactly what she wanted. There was no reason for her to continue acting like a lovesick teenager every time he came near her. She would turn the tables on him and make him squirm for a change.

A feline smile curved her lips as she smoothed her short skirt and continued down the small path to the pool house.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike poured the last of the bottle into his glass and had just raised it to his lips when he heard a knock at the door. He let himself pretend for a moment that it could be Jonathon returning with the list of supplies he had asked for, but he knew it was her.

Opening the door his cock twitched when he saw the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. It was the same look she had given him that first night. His body immediately responded remembering the encounter.

Buffy smiled in satisfaction when she saw his eyes darken as they moved over her body. A warm heat flushed through her as though he was caressing her. She moved past him wordlessly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the small shiver that ran up her spine at the mere thought of his touch.

As she moved past him, her scent surrounded him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he knew if he did, he would not be able to control himself. “What do you want?” He asked in a low husky voice, leaning his head against the open door.

“Um…I...uh,” Buffy mentally cursed herself. Calm and cool, she reminded herself. “I found this in with your notes. I wasn’t sure if it should be included or if it was an accident.” She held out the poem, willing her hands not to shake.

Spike’s eyes widened as he saw the paper. He knew without even reading it what it was. “You read it?” he asked taking it from her hands.

“Yeah…I mean, I thought it was part of the story…”

“It wasn’t.”

“I kind of figured,” Buffy looked down suddenly nervous under his intense gaze. She felt him move towards her.

“What did you think of it?”

. I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair, Buffy closed her eyes, still looking down. “I…um…I don’t really like poetry. So I’m not the best person to ask.” She shrugged.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as Spike cocked his head to the side studying her. He stalked towards her lowering his head so that his lips were hovering close to her ear. Buffy could feel his heated breath on her neck and ear. He smelled of whisky and cigarettes. Her breath hitched when she felt his hand brush the hair away from her neck.

“You don’t like poetry?” he whispered.

Buffy shook her head slowly knowing her voice would betray her if she tried to talk.

“Has anyone ever whispered it in your ear as they made love to you?” Buffy felt her stomach clench as she bent her head giving him further access to her neck. “Caressing you with their words as they pleasured you with their body.”

Spike’s lips ghosted down her neck as he spoke. Buffy couldn’t stop the small moan from escaping her parted lips as he brought his hands up to rest on her hips. He chuckled against her throat. “Couldn’t quite make that out, love, was that a yes?”

. Oh God, he is expecting me to speak? Buffy thought, struggling to clear her mind. “N-no…I d-don’t like poetry,” she struggled out in a small squeaky voice.

“I think the right man could change that,” he said gently, letting his teeth scrape against the crook of her neck.

Buffy whimpered as her hands came up to grasp his arms. Spike knew he was playing with fire. He wasn’t sure he could even stop this little game he had started. As cold as she tried to appear, her body was so responsive. He wanted nothing more than to carry her into the bedroom and pound her into the mattress. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of ringing.

Buffy’s eyes snapped open when she heard her phone ring. She didn’t need to look at it to know who it was. She’d been so flustered by her lunch date that she’d forgotten to call Liam when she returned. She stepped quickly back scrambling to retrieve the ringing phone from her pocket.

“H-hello?”

“Elizabeth, where are you?” Liam snapped.

“I…uh, I’m walking in the garden,” Buffy said, turning her back on Spike and walking towards the window. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw he hadn’t come home early and caught her in a lie.

“Oh well, you were supposed to call me. I thought maybe you were still angry over our argument this morning.”

Buffy’s stomach rolled at the word . ‘argument’. “No, Liam everything is fine.”

“We’re going out to dinner tonight. Dress nice, but nothing too slutty. There will be clients there. I’ll pick you up at eight. I love you.”

He hung up before Buffy had a chance to respond. Not that it mattered if she wanted to go out or not. She was expected to be by his side at any and all business related functions.

“Everything okay?”

Buffy turned back around. She didn’t miss the look of concern on Spike’s face. “Everything is just perfect,” she smiled. “I’ll come back tomorrow and we can go over your outline,” she said, starting for the door.

Her change in tone had not escaped him, nor had the look of utter panic on her face when her husband had called. “Buffy, if you need to talk…”

Buffy whirled around smiling. “What, are you offering to be a shoulder to cry on?”

“If you need one.”

Buffy looked at him. She knew he was being sincere but that didn’t change the fact that she could never confide in him, in anyone.

“I don’t,” she said simply as she turned and walked out the door.




Please leave me a review to let me know you are still reading lol

Buffy sat curled up in one of the comfortable chairs on the sunroom. The room’s decor was a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion. It was the one room in the house Liam had allowed her to decorate. The walls were a pale yellow, which took on a luminescent glow when the sun shone through the French doors. The furniture was modern but simple, consisting of a soft rose colored sofa with two large comfortable crème recliners.

One whole wall was lined with shelves full of all of Buffy’s favorite books and on the opposite side of the room, where many would place a television, was a painting. It wasn’t just any painting; it was the one possession in the home that was all hers. Her mother had painted it many years ago. Buffy could look at it for hours, dreaming of a time when life was simpler, happier. Yes, this was her sanctuary where she could fantasize about what might have been.

Buffy smiled, picking up Spike’s outline. No matter what had transpired, she couldn’t bring herself to regret that she would be a part of his next book. His writing was brilliant, full of intense emotions she thought no man could possess. However, he wasn’t just any man. He was a poet. Closing her eyes, she could still feel the sensation of his breath on her neck. She could still hear the words he whispered. Words she could easily lose herself in, but only in this room, because in here she was not Elizabeth Angelus, she was just Buffy Summers.

Glancing over the outline, she noticed the case detective Drake Rogers was investigating was a murder. A rich executive accused of killing a prostitute. A cold chill ran down Buffy’s spine as she read the graphic description of the woman’s brutal death.

She scoffed reading the description of the leggy brunette, Kathleen, who apparently was to be Drake’s love interest. Leggy Brunette, how cliché, she scribbled in the margin. Buffy was a bit surprised to read that Drake Rogers, confirmed bachelor, falls in love with Kathleen. She wondered how that would play out, especially since he had signed on to write two, Drake Rogers books. Her questions were soon answered when she read the ending. The jealous husband finds out about their affair and tries to shoot Drake. Kathleen, unable to stand losing the man she loves, jumps in front of the bullet and dies in her lover’s arms. Buffy was mesmerized, staring at the page. She couldn’t help but feel an eerie sense of foreboding as hot, bitter tears burned her eyes.


**********************


Buffy sat bored, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She had chosen a simple, black silk dress, with a bodice style top showing just a hint of cleavage. It was fitted to her hips, where the skirt flowed freely, falling just past her knees. Her hair was swept up in a French twist with a few loose curls framing her face.

She smiled to herself, wondering if Spike would like her dress.

Dinner was long and boring, regardless of what Liam claimed, they were never meant to be social. It was all about networking and talking about what you have. Looking around the table, Buffy chuckled. All the usual suspects, she thought to herself.

Directly to Liam’s right, were Darla and Riley Finn. Riley’s company owned a bunch of meat packing plants in Iowa. He had only moved to L.A. last year where he had met his soon-to-be-trophy-wife, Darla. Darla was pushy and irritating. She had recently opened a chain of day-spas. Buffy yawned as Darla went on and on about the importance of getting enough fiber in your diet.

On the other side of the Finns were Cordelia and Warren Chase. Cordelia was an ex-model who was now trying to get into the fashion world with the help of her husband, techno geek, Warren. Buffy giggled, as Cordelia seemed to roll her eyes at everything her husband said.

Finally, next to Buffy, was Lindsey McDonald, her husband’s long time business associate and his flavor of the month, Harmony.

“So, Elizabeth, how is the publishing business going?” Lindsey smiled, desperately trying to break his date’s endless prattle.

Buffy looked at Lindsey, suddenly uncomfortable. Her face reddened as she felt all eyes move to her. “Um…its fine, I…”

“Oh my God! Is it true that you signed William Radcliffe?” Harmony interrupted.

Buffy took a huge gulp of her wine, smiling as the waiter placed a full glass in front of her. “Yes, it’s true,” Buffy mumbled.

Luckily, the conversation quickly shifted to other topics, but the tension didn’t leave Buffy. Her stomach was twisted in knots, as if her infidelity was written all over her face. She excused herself to the restroom only to have Harmony follow close behind her.

“Oh my God, you have to tell me all about William. Is he just as handsome in person? Does he have a girlfriend?” Harmony screeched, grabbing Buffy’s arm.

Buffy saw red. She wanted nothing more than to grab the bleached blond by the back of the head and slam her face against the wall. “Aren’t you forgetting about your boyfriend?”

Harmony snorted. “Please, Lindsey? That is so not serious. Besides landing a man like William Radcliffe…”

“Spike…his name is Spike.”

“I’ll bet it is,” Harmony cooed.

Buffy knew she had to get out of the restroom before she said or did something she would regret. Pushing past Harmony, she entered the dining room. Glancing at the table, she turned and headed toward the bar.


Sitting at the bar sipping her cosmopolitan, Buffy tried to gather her thoughts. She knew Liam would come looking for her, he always did. She could only hope that if she drank enough, she could somehow numb the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume her.

Buffy smiled at the bartender picking up her drink and turned to head back to the table not noticing the man approaching. Buffy felt the impact as cold liquid splashed down her bare legs.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry,” the man said, grabbing Buffy’s arms to steady her.

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Buffy smiled, seeing the sincere concern in the man’s eyes.

The man smiled in relief. “At least let me replace your drink?”

“No, I have to get back to join my husband,” Buffy answered, grabbing some napkins from the bar and attempting to dry off her sticky calves.

“Is there a problem here?”

Buffy cringed at the sound of Liam’s voice. She didn’t need to look up to know he was angry. “No, honey, I just spilled my drink.”

“Actually, it was my fault,” the man argued, “and I really wish you would allow me to buy you another drink.”

“My wife doesn’t need you to buy her a drink,” Liam snapped. The man looked at Liam and quickly walked away.

“Liam, he was just being polite.”

Liam grasped Buffy by the arm, pulling her close. A slow, sardonic smile twisted his thin lips, “When will you ever learn that acting like a whore is only going to cause you pain. Is that what you want?”

Buffy tried to pull away but knew better than to cause a scene. Bile rose in her throat as she allowed her husband to escort her back to the table. The rest of the night was a blur as Buffy finished glass after glass of wine, ignoring Liam’s obvious disapproval.



**********************


As soon as the front door was unlocked, Buffy pushed past her husband and raced up the stairs, barely able to make it to the bathroom before being overtaken by her nausea. She groaned as she sat on the cold tile floor feeling both physically and emotionally drained. She heard heavy footsteps signaling the arrival of her husband, but kept her head down trying to postpone the inevitable confrontation. When another wave of nausea hit her, she heard him sigh in disgust and leave the room.

Buffy sat on the floor for a long time, somehow it seemed a perfect ending to the evening. When she slowly stood up and faced the mirror, hot tears fell down her cheeks. Her makeup was smeared, her eyes red and swollen. She felt much older than her twenty-seven years. In many ways she had already lived a lifetime.

As she cleaned herself up and brushed her teeth, her stomach knotted once again. She wasn’t looking forward to facing her husband. Liam was bound to be upset by her drunken behavior and with the alcohol still swimming through her system, she wasn’t sure she would be able to stay silent.

Letting out a nervous sigh, she made her way into the bedroom. A triumphant smile graced her face as she heard his loud snores echoing through the darkened room. Buffy made her way to the bed and lay down still fully clothed. Closing her eyes, the room began to spin. Turning her head, she saw Spike’s book notes over her night table.

With an evil glint in her eyes, Buffy carefully got out of bed and made her way back into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth once again and rinsed out her mouth with Listerine. Applying some lipstick, she smiled into the mirror. She carefully tiptoed to the bedside and grabbed the papers before heading out the door.

**********************


At first Spike wasn’t sure if the pounding was a result of the enormous amount of alcohol he had consumed or if he’d actually heard it. As his eyes fluttered open, he realized someone was at the door.

Making his way off the couch, Spike once again caught his shin on the corner of the small metal torture device that doubled as a table. “Fucking bloody piece of…” he grumbled, swinging open the door with more force than he intended. His jaw dropped when he saw Buffy standing in his doorway.

He blinked his eyes, making sure he was truly awake. Many nights she’d come to him. Many nights she’d appeared in his bed writhing underneath him, hovering above him, surrounding him. However those were simply dreams, tonight she was here, in person and as beautiful as ever. He inwardly groaned, even though a part of him reveled at the mere sight of her, he was in no mood for more of their verbal sparring. Sparring that always seemed to leave him both angry and aroused.

“You lost, goldilocks?”

A wicked smile graced her lips. “Not at all. I just took a chance that you would still be awake.”

“I wasn’t,” Spike said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you are now,” Buffy countered, breezing past him. “Besides I’m here on business.”

“Business…in the middle of the night, dressed like that?” Spike drawled.

Buffy blushed, quickly avoiding his eyes. “See?” she said, holding up his outline. “I finished looking it over.”

Spike stalked towards her, taking the papers. “What the bloody hell did you do?”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “What?”

“What the hell is all this?” Spike said, pointing to the bright red marks and notations Buffy had added.

“Just…just a few suggestions.”

“A few? Are you daft? The whole page is nothin’ but red!”

Buffy narrowed her eyes, suddenly feeling the need to defend her actions. “Well, what can I say, it needed some work.”

“Oh and suddenly you’re a writer?”

“No, I’m your boss,” Buffy tried to sound confident but couldn’t control the shudder as Spike took a menacing step forward. She felt the hard wall against her back as he came closer with fire burning in his eyes.

“No, you did this to push my buttons. Just like you’ve been doin’ ever since I first laid eyes on you. ‘M tired of the games, pet.”

“Me? I’m playing games? What about you accidentally leaving poetry in your notes?”

“You think I wanted you to see that? You think I like looking like a bloody ponce?” Spike roared, slamming his hands on the wall on either side of her head.

Buffy jumped and even though her heartbeat pounded in her ears, it wasn’t from fear. He was close. She could feel his breath on her face. His eyes were dark and stormy, though she wasn’t sure if was from anger or desire or maybe a mixture of both. She could feel her nipples brush against his hard chest with every ragged breath.

For a long moment, time seemed to halt as they locked eyes, each seemingly waiting for the other to make the next move. His hoarse voice finally broke the silence, “Buffy…”

Her small hands suddenly wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and crashing his lips to hers. Spike growled in response, grasping her hips and lifting her against the wall. Buffy broke the kiss, panting for breath as she twisted her legs around his middle.

Bracing her against the wall, Spike shoved her dress up to bunch at her hips. He squeezed the soft round curves of her ass as he ground his erection against the thin lace of her drenched thong. Buffy whimpered, bucking her hips as her nails dug trenches along his back.

Snaking a hand between them, he roughly shoved aside her thong, running his fingers over her wetness. Buffy cried out, bucking into his hand. “Fuck, kitten…you’re so wet.” Spike moaned.

Suddenly his talented fingers were gone, causing Buffy to groan in protest. Spike pressed her body against his as he made his way through the cottage to the bedroom.

Setting her down on the bed, he growled, shoving the mountain of pillows to the floor. Buffy giggled, pulling him down on top of her. Spike smiled, ghosting his fingers down her cheek, staring at her with a look of awe. Uncomfortable with his sudden affection, Buffy flipped them off, straddling his waist.

Unzipping her dress, she pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Spike’s gaze coasted wantonly over her bare breasts. Pulling her down, he latched onto a pink nipple and suckled, gently biting down as it grew hard in his mouth. Buffy tugged at his sweatpants, freeing his erection and began sliding herself along its length, frantically seeking friction.

In a flash, she was on her back with Spike hovering over her. His eyes looked wild and predatory. Her body instantly responded, her legs falling open as every nerve anticipated his touch. Raising her hips from the bed, her body shuddered with desire. He leaned in for a searing kiss as his hands quickly tore away her sodden thong. A hoarse cry ripped from her throat as he slammed his cock home. Pulling out, he drove in again, harder and deeper with each unrelenting stroke. Buffy grasped his shoulders, bracing herself, meeting his every thrust as unintelligible grunts fell from her lips.

Their bodies came together in frenzied desire. Every fight, every look, every touch brought them one step closer to the inevitable. Eager hands and greedy mouths explored, grasped and pulled at every inch of each others’ bodies. Spike felt her pussy clamp down as he continued pumping his pulsating cock into her. Her body jerked and spasmedas she screamed out his name.

Spike reached his hands beneath her, grabbing her ass and slamming into to her as she thrashed beneath him. Burying his face in her neck, he exploded within her, biting down on the soft flesh of her neck as if to mark her. Buffy cried out in pain as a second orgasm ripped through her.

For a long while, they both lay trembling from completion. Spike rolled off of Buffy, his stomach in knots. His tension disappeared as he felt her warm body suddenly curled around him. He pulled the thick red comforter over them as they drifted off to sleep.


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Buffy snuggled contentedly into the warm arms that encased her naked body. She was dreaming of Spike like she had many nights as of late. Dreaming of how it would feel to sleep surrounded by his warmth. She sighed, pressing herself back against her dream lover only to be met with a moan as the arms tightened, pulling her against his hard body.

Her eyes flew open as the events of the night before came rushing back. From the window, Buffy could see the first signs of daylight peaking up over the horizon. Struggling to free herself, she extricated herself from his arms and began scrambling around the room in search of her discarded clothes.

The moment her warm body left his arms, Spike awakened with a start. He couldn’t help the tightening in his chest as he watched her scurry about gathering her things. “Buffy…”

His voice stopped her in her tracks. When she turned to face him she could see the confusion in his eyes. She wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and forget…well…everything. However, she knew the price that would be paid if Liam were to ever find out about her affair with Spike. Affair, she repeated silently. It didn’t feel like an affair. That word brought to mind images of dirty hotel rooms and seedy bars. No, this felt like something else, something Buffy couldn’t yet bring herself to dream of. “I have to go. Liam, he…”

“Liam is a right bastard,” Spike snapped.

Buffy closed her eyes; she knew her husband would be waking soon. She knew whatever kind of reassurances that Spike was looking for, she wouldn’t be able to give them to him. “He’s my husband and I have to get home.” Buffy said, ducking her head.

Spike rose from the bed and she could feel him moving towards her as she struggled to untangle her crumpled dress. Taking her hands in his, he tossed the garment to the bed and brought them to his lips kissing her palms until her eyes finally met his. “Buffy…don’t run away again.”

Buffy closed her eyes as tears threatened to spill. Don’t run away, she thought to herself. In a sense, that was what she’d been doing for most of her life. Running. Running from the demons that hunted her soul. Running from the girl she used to be, while hating the woman she had become. Looking into the blue ocean of his eyes, so full of concern, for a brief moment the thought of staying felt warm and welcoming, until that familiar cold chill reminded her of the cost of staying. She laughed nervously and in a voice that she barely recognized, replied, “I’m not running, Spike, I’m going home to my husband.”

She saw the anger flash in his eyes. “You didn’t seem too concerned about your husband last night when you were screaming my name.”

“Oh, get over yourself. It was just…”

“It was a bloody revelation is what it was,” he said, taking a step toward her.

Buffy tried to will her body not to respond to the proximity of his naked body. She ducked her head quickly stepping around him and grabbed her clothes. He watched as she hurriedly dressed then turned to him. “I…I was drunk.”

“Tha’s bollocks and you know it.”

“I was drunk and you…you were…” Buffy hesitated, looking up briefly before turning towards the door, “you were convenient,” she said walking away.



********************


For long moments, Spike stared at the door where the small blond had exited. A storm of emotions clouded his eyes. A caustic laugh spilled from his lips as he stalked toward the bottle of brown liquid solace beckoning him from across the room. Tipping his head back, he felt the warm liquid burn his throat but finally pulled the bottle away, knowing it couldn’t reach the incipient ache forming in his chest.

He hurled the bottle at the door, rage fueling him as he began to thrash about the room. The demonic table was the first casualty; a small triumphant smile curled his lips as he watched it smash against the stone fireplace. Chairs, sofa cushions, and knick knacks went flying through the air until he came across the small stack of papers.

His outline. He saw the small loopy handwriting that marred his work. Closing his eyes, he dropped down on the cushion-less sofa and began to read. He was prepared to feel anger, outrage at her, after all, who dared tell him how to bloody write his story? Instead, he was surprised, even amused, as he soon found himself nodding in agreement with most of her comments.

Leaning back, Spike breathed a deep sigh, turning once again to stare towards the door now covered with whiskey. “Who are you, Buffy?”

********************


Buffy ran like her life depended on it because in so many ways it did. She raced against the rising sun desperately praying her husband had not yet awakened. Tears blurred her vision as she remembered the stricken look on Spike’s face as she walked out the door. She knew going to him last night was a mistake. Now she would ache for him.

Where their first encounter had been playful and passionate, this one had been full of need and an intense desire, not just for anyone, but for each other.

Buffy closed her eyes, not wanting to remember the way her skin burned under his skillful touch. Now is not the time, she scolded herself, taking a deep breath and slipping into the mansion.


Buffy moved quickly up the long spiral staircase, fully aware of what may be awaiting her at the top.
Slowly opening the bedroom door, her heart leapt to her throat when the heavy wooden door let out a shrill creak. She almost sobbed in relief when she noticed her husband still asleep in bed.

She silently dashed past the bed and into the bathroom where she quickly undressed, in desperate need of a shower.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Buffy let out a shriek, quickly pulling the robe from the back of the door. “I…was…I was going to take a shower.”

“Well, I need to shower too, so I’ll just join you,” Liam leered.

“Um…well I’m still feeling sick.” Buffy said, covering her mouth.

Liam let out a disgusted grunt and turned to leave. “Just hurry up then.”

Buffy sagged against the door and sobbed, knowing things couldn’t go on like this.

********************



She was there again. The scent of cheap cologne and old beer filled her senses. She made her way through the crowd trying to ignore the predatory eyes that always seemed to follow her every move.

Plastering on her best smile, she served drinks to the small table of business men. She inwardly cringed but pretended not to notice when his hand grazed her breast to hand her a tip. His smile didn’t hide the leer in his eyes. He’d been here before. He slipped his business card into her hand. Buffy looked down at the small, crisp piece of paper with the fancy lettering.

Suddenly the music stopped as a slow chill crawled up her spine. The card seemed to evaporate into thin air. Buffy brought her hands up as crimson liquid covered her slender fingers. The scream that had been building in the back of her throat once again was left frozen at her lips.

Buffy woke with a start, unable to control her trembling limbs as she scampered out of the bed. Her heart raced as she practically flew down the stairs and out the back door. She wasn’t sure if she was running away or running towards something, but she knew she couldn’t stop.

previously


She was there again. The scent of cheap cologne and old beer filled her senses. She made her way through the crowd trying to ignore the predatory eyes that always seemed to follow her every move.

Plastering on her best smile, she served drinks to the small table of business men. She inwardly cringed but pretended not to notice when his hand grazed her breast to hand her a tip. His smile didn’t hide the leer in his eyes. He’d been here before. He slipped his business card into her hand. Buffy looked down at the small, crisp piece of paper with the fancy lettering.

Suddenly the music stopped as a slow chill crawled up her spine. The card seemed to evaporate into thin air. Buffy brought her hands up as crimson liquid covered her slender fingers. The scream that had been building in the back of her throat once again was left frozen at her lips.

Buffy woke with a start, unable to control her trembling limbs as she scampered out of the bed. Her heart raced as she practically flew down the stairs and out the back door. She wasn’t sure if she was running away or running towards something, but she knew she couldn’t stop.



Chapter 8


Buffy’s thighs burned and small pebbles tore at her feet, but it didn’t stop her. Tears blinded her view as she sped across the lawn. She wasn’t fully aware of where she was running until she was standing before the large wooden door. Trembling, small fists pounded with a force she wasn’t aware she had.

The pounding in Spike’s head grew louder. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he slowly rose off of the cushion-less couch. He heard the noise again and immediately realized the sound was not one of the effects of the alcohol. Stumbling past the debris he made his way towards the door.

“Bloody hell!” he cried out in pain, as he stepped on the remnants of the forgotten bottle of whisky scattered about the floor.

He pulled open the door, still cursing from the pain radiating from his foot. When he saw the small blond standing at the other side he was tempted to slam it shut, not ready to face her or acknowledge the tightening in his chest that the mere sight of her produced.

Spike had barely opened the door when Buffy flew into his arms. Her trembling body clinging to his as sobs tore from her throat.

All of the pain and anger disappeared the moment she touched him. When he heard her sobs he pushed her slightly away so he could look at her face.

“Love, what happened?”

Buffy shook her head unable to speak as she clung to his shirt. Spike took her face in his hands gently wiping her tears with his thumbs.

“Did that bastard hurt you?” Spike demanded not able to keep the fury from his voice.

“No…no, nothing happened.” Buffy stammered grasping his hands with her own. “I just…I had a nightmare, I …oh God, Spike, what happened?”

Spike looked down noticing the smears of blood that marred the carpet. “’S nothin’, just…” he said reaching down to pull a large sliver of glass from his foot.

“Spike, you have to get that cleaned up,” Buffy demanded pulling him towards the couch.

Buffy stopped short noticing that the small cottage was destroyed. Her eyes widened as she noticed the overturned chairs and smashed table. She turned to Spike who simply shrugged. Buffy walked to the pile of empty bottles and turning to Spike, she raised a questioning eyebrow.

Spike looked down unable to meet Buffy’s eyes. “Got thirsty,” he smirked, reminding her of a small boy who was being reprimanded.

“Uh huh,” she said, feeling tears of guilt prickling at the back of her eyes, she tried to blink them away as she took his hands and pulled him to her.

“I’m sorry.”

Spike looked up, seeing the unshed tears in her eyes. He sighed bringing her hands up to kiss her knuckles. “I’m a big boy, Buffy, knew what I was getting into.”

“Yeah, but…” Buffy was silenced as he brought a finger to her lips.

“Don’t.”

Buffy nodded, she knew he didn’t want to hear her excuses and they both knew she couldn’t offer any promises. She gave a half smile and directed him to the sole chair left upright in the room.

“I’m going to get the first aid kit. I think there is one in the bathroom.” Buffy said disappearing down the hall.

An hour later, Spike’s feet were cleaned and bandaged and the two of them had cleaned up the remaining glass from the floor. Buffy fell to the couch exhausted by the long night. Spike watched as she closed her eyes letting her head fall back. Her thin night gown clung to her small breasts as she breathed.

Spike tore his eyes away clearing his throat “So…you had a nightmare?”

Buffy’s eyes opened, her smile unable to mask the sudden fear in her eyes. “It was nothing,” she said standing suddenly.

Spike approached her, cupping her face in his hands. “Don’t shut me out, Buffy. You came to me for a reason.”

Buffy leaned in placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’m not, I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right,” Spike said turning away. “Guess you should be getting back to your husband.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy whispered walking toward the door.

“Buffy…”

She turned just as he reached her. He captured her lips pressing her back against the door as he devoured her mouth. Buffy moaned into his mouth as her hands came up under his thin t-shirt desperate to feel his skin.

Spike scooped her up walking toward the couch, his mouth never leaving hers. Laying her down, he wordlessly pulled her nightgown over her head leaving her clad in nothing but her thin, lacey panties.

“Beautiful,” he breathed reaching down to capture her nipple between his teeth. Buffy arched her back whimpering while he tasted and teased one small pink bud first then the other.

Buffy reached up tugging his shirt over his head, pulling him down to nip at his lips. She could feel his denim clad erection pressing against her thigh.

Spike moved his way down her neck once again worshipping her small breasts as his hands gently traced her soft curves. Buffy felt like her skin was on fire as he worked his way down her body. Her legs parted, allowing his lips to brush along the insides of her thighs.

“Spike…please…” she breathed, her sultry voice taking a hard edge as she raised her hips towards his face.

Spike smiled running a finger across her damp lace panties. “Tell me, kitten, what do you want?”

“You…now,” Buffy answered gasping when his fingers slipped inside her thong and he thrust them deep inside of her.

Spike watched enthralled as she writhed under his skilled touch. She was gorgeous…raw…real. This was his Buffy. With a sharp tug the scrap of lace was ripped from her body but before she could protest she felt his wet mouth begin to explore her folds. His long fingers still buried deep inside of her as his tongue flicked eagerly over her swollen clit. Buffy let out a hoarse cry as she exploded in orgasm.

Buffy trembled as she felt him rise off of the couch. Her eyes opened to watch him pulling off his jeans. He looked like a statue. His skin pale and flawless. His muscles rippling underneath.

She blushed when he caught her staring. Spike smirked as he once again joined her on the couch. He brought his hand to her face as he kissed her gently on the mouth. Buffy pulled him closer as he positioned himself between her thighs.

His hand found her breast, thumbing over her nipple. Buffy could feel his cock nudging along her damp slit. With a twist of his slim hips he pushed himself home. Dual moans of pleasure filled the air as their naked bodies rubbed earnestly against the other, hungry for more.

“Feel so good…want you so much,” Spike babbled against her throat sending jolts of electricity through Buffy’s body.

Spike moaned as his cock slid in and out of her pussy. Her walls clenching around his shaft with each stroke as if to keep him there. He growled as he sank his full length within her again and again. Buffy’s body began to tremble as he quickened the pace. The world around them disappearing as she came fiercely, crying out his name. The mere sight of her coming sent him over the edge as he erupted within her.

They were both breathless as they clung to each other. Buffy’s eyes snapped open when she felt him nuzzle softly against her neck. She closed her eyes willing away the knowledge that she couldn’t stay.

“Spike…”

“Shhh…,” he whispered.

Buffy opened her eyes and saw his brow furrowed, his face somber. “Just…just for a few minutes…lie to me…” Spike let out a humorless chuckle “Pretend that you want to stay…here with me, okay?”

Buffy’s heart broke as she saw the pain in his eyes. She knew she should just leave, but instead she just nodded, knowing in her heart that it wasn’t a lie.

Over the next weeks, Buffy avoided being alone with Spike at all costs. Andrew was more than happy to accompany her to meetings and her trips to the cottage. He had come to idolize the moody author. Buffy often suppressed a smile as the eager boy rattled on, questioning Spike on every aspect of his writing. She was careful to avoid his pleading eyes as they searched hers for answers. Answers she couldn’t provide, there was just too much at stake.


********************


She’d tried to keep herself absorbed with work. Liam had allowed her to expand the publishing division. She knew that she needed to choose her next new author carefully. Disappointing Liam was simply not an option. She’d spent hours upon hours reading manuscript after manuscript.

So it was no surprise she was so exhausted tonight when she entered the elevator, leaning against the back wall to support herself. It was late; time had flown by and only when she began to nod off at her desk, had she noticed that the sun had dipped beyond the horizon. She was thankful that her husband was away on business. Being out this late without so much as a phone call would have meant a world of trouble.

A hand appeared, stopping the elevator doors from closing. Fiery blue eyes met hers as Spike entered the elevator. She sighed, expecting him to demand an explanation about that night and opened her mouth to speak just as his lips crashed down on hers. Spike had been prepared for her resistance and almost pulled back when instead she began kissing him back with equal intensity. Buffy melted against his body as she felt his hands on her thighs.

Spike pushed her further into the wall of the elevator as he slid her skirt up to bunch at the waist. He’d intended the kiss to be a way to gain her attention, but that plan had quickly gone out the window the moment he’d felt her small hands tugging his hair, pulling him closer. His thoughts instantly spiraled out of control, as the need to touch her, every part of her, became the sole focus of his existence.

Buffy moaned as she felt his mouth on her neck, his denim covered cock throbbing against the thin material of her panties as he pressed her against the wall.

“Spike…someone will see us,” she breathed in mock protest, gathering all of her willpower to push lightly at his chest.

The elevator opened, thankfully revealing only the near empty parking garage. Spike grunted as he lowered her to the ground and wordlessly grabbed her hand and pulled her through the garage. Buffy allowed herself to be led towards a large sedan and watched as he fumbled for the keys and opened the passenger door.

She opened her mouth in protest when he pulled the front seat forward and motioned for her to get in the backseat. The words never left her mouth as he turned them and pinned her against the car, devouring her mouth with his.

“I’d gladly shag you right here, my love, but I thought you might be a bit more comfortable in the back seat.”

Buffy whimpered against his lips, all resolve leaving her body as she began to move towards the door. She froze when out of the corner or her eye she saw headlights rounding the corner entering the garage, though. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, she gasped when she noticed her skirt bunching around her waist, right out in the open for the world to see. She shoved Spike away and scrambled to straighten herself as she noticed the familiar Mercedes pull next to her SUV, which was parked only spaces away from where she and Spike were standing.

She held her breath, her stomach in knots, as she saw Lindsay Graham exit his car and walk towards them.

Her mind raced, he was Liam’s right hand man, and he was here, feet away from where she had just been about to fuck a man who was not her husband.

“Elizabeth, there you are.” Lindsay smiled, eyeing the couple suspiciously, “Liam was worried when he couldn’t get a hold of you on your cell.”

“My…cell,” Buffy murmured, looking around wondering where she might have dropped it. She thought back to the elevator, blushing as she realized she must have dropped it there, along with her keys.

“Are you all right?” Lindsay asked, studying the disheveled blond.

“Yeah, we just lost track of time. It’s my fault really; I had a plot twist I was anxious to run by Buffy,” Spike spoke up.

Lindsay then focused his attention on Spike, raising a questioning eyebrow. Buffy gulped suddenly feeling like a teenager caught by her parents.

“Lindsay have you met Sp…William Radcliffe?” Buffy asked, unable to stop the nervous giggle that fell from her lips.

“No, I haven’t,” Lindsay said, turning his attention once more on Buffy. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride home?”

Buffy hesitated before nodding in agreement, she knew better than to refuse Lindsay’s offer. She turned to Spike murmuring a brief goodbye.

“This isn’t over,” Spike said in a low, deep voice, catching her eyes.

“Yes, it is,” she said, turning away before her emotions could get the better of her.


********************


Buffy clasped her earrings, appraising herself in the mirror one last time in preparation for the party. She used to love getting all dressed up. It was the only time her husband seemed proud to have her near him; however, she soon learned that the attention came at a price. Though he insisted she look her best at all social gatherings, any unwanted attention she received from men had her husband seeing red. Sure he would laugh and joke about the attention when others were around, but later when everyone had left he made his true feelings known.

She picked up her curling iron, still hot from its use, her mind wandering as she pressed a well manicured finger along the smooth surface. She pulled her finger away watching as her ivory skin turned an angry red. Buffy looked up in the mirror, at the mask of perfection staring back at her and imagined pressing the barrel of the curling iron to her face, marring the soft, porcelain skin. Maybe if she were burned, scarred, he would leave her alone. Sighing, she placed it back on her counter, knowing that even that would not be an escape. It would only make Liam angry, enraged that his favorite mare was no longer show worthy.


********************


The party seemed to be going well. Willow and Tara were mingling and drinking wine. Liam was laughing and joking with clients. Buffy tensed when she noticed Lindsay approaching her husband. Ever since the encounter the week before, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Though Lindsay had always been nice enough to her, he was still her husband’s lackey. One word from him about finding her and Spike in the parking garage and…she shuddered at the thought.

She suddenly felt a strong body press against her back.

“Hello, gorgeous.”