She’d hated him at first sight. Actually, Buffy had hated him on principle far before she’d ever even laid eyes upon him. That first sight was just the cherry on the top of a whole sundae worth of hating. The first sight was when she stopped feeling even a little bit guilty about hating him on principle.

William Pratt. Spike. Just the thought of his name was enough to make her shaking mad. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to be back in England. He was never supposed to smile at her mother while they loaded his luggage into their car and he was definitely not supposed to staying in her brother’s former bedroom. She was supposed to move into her brother’s former bedroom.

Of course, her brother was supposed to be starting college and that hadn’t happened either. Nope, once again Liam Summers had charmed their parents and ruined her life. It had been two months, but Buffy Summers was just as pissed as she’d been the day it happened. This was supposed to be her year. Finally, she would be out from under her brother’s shadow. She’d have the school to herself just in time for a fabulous senior year. She’d worked her ass off to make the Cheerleading Squad and stay in her AP classes. This was supposed to be the year her parents noticed that Liam wasn’t their only star student. Instead, Liam had decided that he needed to travel and found a foreign exchange program that didn’t care that he was technically not a student. As long as his family would welcome a student into their home, he would be welcomed into someone else’s. He hadn’t even had to work hard to convince their parents. Nope, all Liam had to do was show some sad puppy eyes to their mom and tell their dad that he thought seeing the world a bit would make him more ready to settle down and study the following year and he was on his way to Dublin to work in a pub and flirt with the local girls. Her mom hadn’t even seemed bothered by the idea. She gotten all excited about “welcoming someone into the family”.

One minute Buffy had been weeks away from heaven and the next she’d been helping her mom freshen up the paint in her brother’s room. No one even mentioned that she’d been promised that room after Liam moved out. They did mention that their foreign exchange student would be enrolled as a senior at Sunnydale High, though. Oh yeah, and that Buffy would be expected to show him around and help him get settled.

Her final hope was that he’d be a quiet little nerd that stayed out of here way after the initial showing around. She’d still be on track to rule Sunnydale High. But, like everything else, that hadn’t worked out. Her jaw had dropped when he’d walked over and shook hands with her father at the airport. She couldn’t even get a shy, studious foreign exchange student. No, she got stuck with some kind of delinquent. His hair was white. Not blond, white like a punk rocker from a lame eighties band. He wore black from head to toe, including a pair of scuffed up boots that looked older than she was and a leather trench coat. It had been nearly one hundred degrees outside the day they’d collected him from the airport and he’d been wearing an ankle-length leather coat. He was a freak. Worst of all, he had a pierced eyebrow. When Buffy had asked her mother if she could get piercing in her upper ear she’d gotten a lecture about not mutilating the body her mother had carried for nine months and suffered through ten hours of delivery to produce. William Pratt had an eyebrow piercing and the best bedroom in her house. It was only fair that she hate him.

To make matters worse, no one else did. Her mother was charmed by him just because he insisted on helping with the dishes and told her that he’d never tasted better baked chicken in his life. He’d bonded with her father on his second night in town when he’d found her dad’s ancient record collection in the basement. The two of them had made so much noise singing along and pretending to play air guitars that one of the neighbors called. Buffy knew that seeing her father stick his tongue out and hold up his fingers to make the classic rock sign of the horns had scarred her for life.

The next night her father had given him a beer. Eighteen was the drinking age in England, he’d said, it seemed wrong not to let sample some American microbrews. Buffy wasn’t even allowed to drink champagne at her cousin’s wedding, not a single glass.

Her friends couldn’t understand why she hated him either. Cordy thought he was hot. As though that made a difference; he was totally ruining her life. He was in half her classes, which Willow thought was great since it meant that she had someone to study with right in her house and Buffy hated since it meant her teachers all thought it was a good idea to partner her with him for big projects. Then Oz found out that he could play guitar and invited him to join his band and just like that William “Spike” Pratt was the most popular guy at school. It was only October and he’d already gone out with three of the girls on her squad. Three different girls in one month and they all still fawned over him. It made Buffy sick.

She knew the whole nice guy thing was just an act. She’d seen the real Spike. Sure he’d tried to pull off the whole charming guy with a hot accent act with her at first too. He was all “pet” this and “love” that. Please. Buffy Summers was not going to fall for that. She’d made that clear on his third day here. He’d tried to get her to go with him to the carnival and she’d explained that she didn’t go places with strangers. He’d looked hurt for a moment and she’d almost felt bad, but then he’d sneered at her and said that he’d only asked her because her parents were such nice people and that he had no interest in spending time with a spoiled brat anyway. Like she was the spoiled one; he had her bedroom.

At least then she’d been able to stop pretending. They kept it all civil words and vacant smiles in front of her parents, but that was where the charade ended. Alone they were free to snap and bitch at each other as much as they wanted to. They wanted to a lot. She called him a pig and a loser and he referred to her as The Ice Bitch or Princess. That was the one that really pissed her off. Her father called her Princess. It was a totally sweet nickname until Spike made it sound like she was a snob. He was all “Is Your Highness nearly done in the loo.” She hadn’t timed him yet, but Buffy was sure that he took even longer to get ready than she did, especially when he piled on the eyeliner and black nail polish. She couldn’t believe her parents were letting him live with them. She’d sampled blue nail polish one time and her mother had nearly had a stroke. Dark colors aren’t ladylike.

She absolutely despised him. It made no sense that seeing him naked floored her, but it did.

The first time had been an accident. It was, Buffy assured herself, totally his fault. Everyone knew that you should close the bathroom door before changing, even if you think you are the only one home. Up until that day she had given very little thought to his body. Any thought she had given it hadn’t been very complimentary; he’d seemed kind of scrawny and pale. Then she saw him. Naked. Completely and totally naked. He was as pale as she’d expected. Only instead of looking pasty, he looked hot. Ridiculously hot. Pale was totally a good look for him. Her unexpected peek had only lasted for a moment; she was walking up the stairs just as he was stepping out of the shower. At the time she’d considered it her biggest blessing of the year that his drying his hair had given her a chance to escape unnoticed.

But then it haunted her. The image of his lean and tightly muscled form all wet and naked had burned itself into her retinas. She saw him every time she closed her eyes: his chest, his stomach, his cock. It wasn’t that she’d never seen one before, she totally had. But, it also wasn’t like she’d seen enough of them for it to be no big deal. She was fairly sure that even if she saw a bunch more that his would still qualify as a “big” deal.

After a few days she started thinking that she had glorified things too much. Surely he wasn’t as Adonis-like as she remembered. She knew that she would have to take another look. Not because she was attracted to him, because she simply needed to prove to herself that she’d merely been too surprised the first time to form a rational judgment. Luckily, he was staying in the attic room.

The attic room took up the whole third floor. It was absolutely the coolest room in the house; it was huge and had tons of windows. What it didn’t have was a bedroom door. Since the stairs curved and it was the only room on that level there really wasn’t much need for a door and really no place to put one. It didn’t really matter; no one went up there unless it was their room. It was totally private.

Except that it wasn’t. All Buffy had to do was sneak up the stairs and stay ducked just out of sight. His tendency to blare punk music made it almost too easy.

She realized now that she was addicted. The first time had been an accident and the second time was really just an extension of that first time in order to confirm her initial opinion. After that things got murky. Peeking in on him became an almost daily occurrence.

Buffy was careful not to let on when they spoke. If he’d noticed her blushing, she was sure that he had no idea what had caused it. He knew that she hated him. He’d never think that she’d started having sexy dreams about him.

She’d become a criminal in her own house. Every time, she swore that it was the last time and that she was definitely going to turn her back on what had become a perverted little habit; then she’d see him heading up the stairs and find herself following.

This time was no different. She was hanging out in her room, casually flipping through her closet to find something to wear while shopping with Cordelia the next day when he strolled by with a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d clearly just gone swimming and would obviously need to get changed out of his wet trunks. She was halfway up the stairs before she even realized what she was doing.

Buffy quickly tucked herself into her peeking spot and bit her lip. Sure enough, he’d already dropped the towel and the swimming trunks. He didn’t appear to be in any rush to get dressed though. She watched wide-eyed as he walked across the room to turn on the stereo and then over to his bed.

Unhurriedly, he rearranged the pillows against the headboard and lied down on top of the bedspread. Buffy nearly choked as she watched him run his hand down his chest and stomach. When he wrapped his hand around his cock she whimpered. She knew that she should leave. Watching this was much worse than sneaking a quick peek of his seriously hot body. She couldn’t look away. It was as though her gaze was glued on the sight of his hand gliding up and down his shaft. Her own hand clenched and tingled with its want to touch what she was seeing. She pressed her thighs together tightly and tried to ignore her aching center. After a moment, she heard him groan and she trembled. It was the sexiest sound she had ever heard. She hated him, even more so now that he’d unintentionally turned her on more than any of the fumbling and fondling she’d allowed her last boyfriend. She kept watching. He came pretty quickly and with a hoarse shout that made her own panties tellingly wet. Still, she couldn’t leave. She watched him clean up with a couple tissues and then stand up to pull on a pair of jeans. She’d seen him get dressed enough to know that he often skipped wearing underwear. It drove her crazy. How was she supposed to concentrate in class knowing that he was sitting just a couple of desks away with no underwear under his jeans?

She was just about ready to leave when he turned off the radio and started talking. “What do you suppose Joyce is going to say when I tell her about your little peeping game?”

She froze. Panic alarms screamed in her head as she tried to figure out what to do. She was royally screwed. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t; her feet were frozen in place. What if he wasn’t sure that she was there? That was possible, right? She decided to stay hiding. It was her only hope.

Spike turned and walked towards the stairs. He nearly laughed when Buffy’s startled expression came into view. “Oh, I think she’ll have a bit more to say then that. Don’t you, kitten?”

“It was just an accident. I didn’t really see anything. I was just—” Buffy stood up and looked anxiously down the stairs. She had to get out of there.

“What didn’t you see?”

“What?” She could feel her face burning red. How had she let this happen?

“What didn’t you see?”

“N-Nothing. I didn’t really see anything.”

Spike nodded as his hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist. He pulled her up the final few stairs and into his bedroom. “Let’s try this again, shall we? I’ll ask you a question and you’ll tell the truth.”

“I am telling—”

“Do you suppose they’ll cancel their romantic weekend and come right home when I call?” He tilted his head to the side and reached up to rub his chin.

“I…I…” Buffy wanted to die. He was right, her parents were supposed to be in L.A. all weekend. She imagined the floor opening up and swallowing her. It would be a relief. Hell, she thought, the floor could chew her up first then swallow her. If it got her away from Spike’s knowing smirk, she considered it an improvement.

He saw her eyes start to tear up and he almost had to stop. He really didn’t want her to cry. He sat on the edge of his mattress and looked up at her. “The truth then.” He softened his voice. “What did you see?” He just wanted her to admit it. The girl drove him crazy.

“Everything.” Her voice was a whisper.

“So you watched me take off my clothes?”

She nodded, careful to keep her eyes on the floor.

“And then you stuck around for the show?”

His phrasing confused her. Frowning, she nodded again.

“Say it.”

“Yes. Okay. I was just planning to tell you something and then you were all naked and with the—on the bed and I saw you.” She raised her eyes up to glare at him.

He grinned. There, he thought, there’s my girl. She was always glaring at him like he’d done something horrible. “I think Joyce is going to want to know why you didn’t just leave.”

“Please don’t tell them. I didn’t mean to—”

He stood up quickly and leaned close to her ear. “I know it wasn’t the first time, kitten. You’ve been playing this game for awhile.”

Her eye widened. “You-you-you knew?”

“You’re not as sneaky as you think.”

“But…why didn’t you say something? Why did you…you let me? That’s sick.”

He laughed. Only Buffy could be so confident that she’d call him a pervert when she’d been the Peeping Tom. “Maybe. The point, love, is that you’ve been peeping and you got caught. What are we going to do about it?”

“I won’t do it again. I swear. You don’t have say anything to my mom and dad.”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

“What?”

“I’m just sayin’ you’ve been peeping at me all this time—got yourself quite a good look at my tight little bod.”

“And I’m sorry and I won’t do it again and—and—”

“It’s my turn.”

“What?” Buffy stepped back in shock.

“My. Turn.”

“You’re kidding. That’s…that is so not…” The implications of his suggestion had her blushing.

Spike shrugged. “Then I’ll be calling Joyce and Hank this evening and telling them all about your naughty little game.”

“You can’t.”

“Joyce was very insistent that I should call if I needed anything.”

“I hate you.”

“Didn’t stop you from hidin’ on my stairs to sneak a look at my goods.”

“Arghh. I wasn’t—l”

Spike placed his finger over her lips. “Careful, kitten, you really need to stop lying.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t supposed to be here.” She held on to her anger. Anger was way better than embarrassment. She was living a nightmare.

“Yeah, you’ve been plenty clear on my lack of welcome.”

Buffy felt guilty despite herself. Had she really been that obvious?

“You started this, pet. The question is: are you willing to see this through to the end.” He shrugged as though he didn’t care one way or another. Few things would have been further from the truth.

“The end?”

“My turn.”

“What do you want exactly?”

“Just the same show you got.”

Her eyes widened. “The same…you can’t be serious. That’s…you’re…No!”

“It’s simple. You can make this right or I can—”

“How would you seeing me be right?”

He wondered how seeing her naked could be anything but right. “Fair is fair.”

“But...please, I swear it won’t happen again. I don’t know why I—”

“Strip.”

“This is blackmail.”

“If you say so.”

“Spike, I’m not going to just take off my clothes.” She laughed like they were both just being silly.

“I did.”

“You chose to.”

“Is that so? I said Hey, pet, why don’t you come sit on my stairs while I squeeze in a wank?”

“A what? You—you knew that I was there. You could have told me to leave.”

“Love, you can keep yappin’ all night. It won’t change things. Here’s the way this goes down. You can strip or I can call the folks. A or B. That’s it. Your choice.”

Some choice, she thought, die of humiliation now or of both humiliation and endless grounding later. Hell, her parents would probably put her in counseling if they knew. Buffy had no choice. She was going to have to strip. “Fine, but I still hate you.”

He shrugged and sat back down.

Buffy figured fast was best. She’d strip and get it over with and then she’d work on forgetting that this day had ever happened. She wondered if Cordy still had her fake ID. Drinking sounded like a good idea. She reached up and started unbuttoning her shirt. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. She was wearing a good bra; it covered more than most of her bikinis did. Still, her fingers shook almost uncontrollably. She was careful to avoid looking up at Spike, but she could feel his eyes on her skin. It made her feel hot, but she shivered just the same. It only took seconds to undo the buttons, she knew that, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, she pushed her shirt off and reached for the button and zipper that held her skirt on.

Spike struggled to maintain an indifferent expression. She was wearing red panties and a matching bra; his fantasies were rarely as hot as Buffy in red silk. His cock stirred despite its recent activity.

She reached for the clasp of her bra three times. She couldn’t do it. Her whole body trembled. She’d never even let a date get below her bra, baring herself to the seemingly indifferent eyes of Spike was nearly more than she could take. She would never be able to take it back, she’d never forget that he was the first boy to see her naked. Her eyes watered. He would be the first boy to see her naked and he didn’t even really want to. This whole thing was just about punishing her for being a freak.

“Leave them on.”

Frowning in confusion, Buffy glanced toward him tentatively.

He’d never thought that she would be shy. He stood up and pointed to the bed. “Up you go then, finish up.”

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “I can’t.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She hadn’t seen this coming. She should have, he’d said that he wanted the same show; she’d simply been too worked up about the stripping to see past that part to the even worse second part.

“Sure you can. Just close your eyes and pretend I’m not here. Think of one of those ball players you like.” He refused to refer to American style football as football; football players had skill and style. They weren’t just mountains of dumb flesh.

Face red, eyes on the floor, Buffy tried again. “I really can’t. I don’t—don’t do that.”

It was Spike’s turn to go wide-eyed. “You don’t get yourself off?” He stared at her in shock for a moment. “Well no wonder you’re wound up so bloody tight all the time.”

“Just tell them, okay. It can’t be any worse than this.” She started to reach for her clothes, but he grasped her wrist again.

“Relax. It’s not a big deal. Lie down and I’ll walk you through it.” When she didn’t move, he tried again. “Look, you’ve gone this far, let me see your pretty red knickers, you might as well finish the thing and be free and clear.”

Buffy closed her eyes for a second and tried wishing the whole situation away. When that didn’t work she stepped uneasily over to his bed and lied down.

Spike sat on the edge of his bed and looked at her. Even lying straight as a board with her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clenched into fists she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He reached over and carefully lifted one of her hands. “Why don’t you just get yourself warmed up a bit. Start right here.” He lowered her fist down near the edge of her bra and waited. She didn’t move. Her hand was clenched so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. He swallowed hard. “Like this, kitten.” He reached over and rubbed his thumb across the point of her nipple.

Her eyes opened in surprised and she gasped. Her body jerked involuntarily as he repeated the caress a second time before pulling his hand away.

“I didn’t touch you.” She meant to sound accusatory, but her voice came out soft and strange.

He smirked and leaned close to her ear. “Do you want to?”

She turned her head so that their faces were only inches apart. Did she? She tried to read his expression to figure out what he was after, but his nearness was too distracting. Her heart raced and the sound of pumping blood roared in her ears. Why did he have to be so…pretty? He was a jerk. He shouldn’t have sad looking eyes the same color as the water on the beach she’d once visited in the Bahamas.

He saw her getting lost in her head and did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. He tried to keep it light and quick, more a hello than an admission of the passion he felt every time he saw her, but she pulled his face closer and kissed him back. He was just getting past the shock of it when she pulled away.

She looked up at him dazedly. “But I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He sighed. Her pouty expression drove him crazy. “Your mouth…” He dropped a light kiss on her jutting bottom lip.

“What?”

“Answer the question, princess.”

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled away. “I hate when you call me that.”

He sighed again. “Do you want me to leave? Honest now.”

“You mean leave—leave?”

Spike shrugged. “I can’t really see us playing it like this for a whole year.”

Sitting up, she furrowed her brow. “Like what?”
“You treat me like dirt, like I’m a smudge on the side of your posh little pink shoes. Glare at me all day and then sneak up every night to spy on me. And I…” He chuckled softly. “I still want you. I see you with your friends and you’re an entirely different person, funny and sweet with this clever little edge. And I want that girl. I see her and I wonder what the hell I ever did to make that girl so angry.”

“You want me?” Buffy’s voice was small.

“No. Of course not.” He rolled his eyes. “I made you strip down to your knickers because I find you grotesque.” He shook his head in irritation. “Of course I want you. Do you own a mirror? You’re a bloody goddess. I thought I’d gotten a raw deal—stuck in Sunnydale instead of New York or Los Angeles. No fun for Spike, I thought. Then I got off the plane and saw you. Nearly kissed the bloody ground in gratitude.”

She kissed him. She grasped the sides of his head, slammed her mouth against his and kissed him hard and deep.

“Fuck, kitten.” He wrapped his arms around her as she climbed into his lap.

She plunged her fingers into his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She muttered between kisses. “I’ll be nice.”

He slid his hands up and down her back and rubbed his cheek against hers. “This is definitely nice—a little confusing if you’re me, but damned nice.”

“Don’t go. Please.”

The frantic edge of her voice bewildered him. He leaned back to look at her. “But what did I do to piss you off in the first place?”

She paled. Her reasons sounded awful, even in her own head. She couldn’t tell him. He’d definitely leave then and she’d be back to having no one who even noticed her. “Nothing. You were right. I was just being a brat. I’ll stop.”

“Buffy, it must’ve been something. Is it just the look? It’s not your style, but—you hate it that much?”

“No. No, I like the way you look. I…really like the way you look.”

He smiled slightly at the emphasis she’d put on the word really. “So what then?”

She hugged him tightly. “Please don’t make me say it.”

He shifted them both to the center of the bed, lied back and looked up at her. “Bet I can get it out of you.” He grinned as he slid his hands up from her waist and brushed the undersides of her breasts through her bra.

Twitching slightly, Buffy grinned back. “Not gonna happen.”

He reached for the clasp at the center of her back then paused. “Let me see you, love.” He waited for her small nod of approval and peeled away her bra. He wondered if she would let him keep it. “A bloody goddess. I knew it, but…fuck you are gorgeous.”

She rested her hands on his chest and stared down at him with pink cheeks and big eyes. “You really think that I’m…”

He brought his hand to her cheek. “Gorgeous.” He pushed himself up for a quick kiss. “Let me get you off—just that, no pressure.”

“You don’t want to…umm…”

“Oh kitten, I want to. There are things I want to do to you that probably don’t even have names. But I want to start with getting you off. Let me see you come on my bed.”

His words, his voice, were almost enough to put her over the edge all on their own. She trembled as she nodded and let him press her down on her back. “Spike.”

He rolled onto his side so that he could fit against her and reached over to brush her hair off of her face. “Yes.”

“I’ve never let anyone…umm…”Blushing, she started to turn her face away.

He held her chin. “Touch you?” At her nod he swallowed hard. “Thank you. I—I want you all to myself, kitten. Wouldn’t dream of hoping for it, but I want it—you—so bad. I won’t let you down. I swear. I’ll worship you if you’ll just let me.”

“But I wasn’t even nice to you.”

“Yeah, well I guess I’m just Love’s Bitch then. I was yours before I even heard your name. One look at those big green eyes of yours and I was lost.” He let his fingers trace her collarbone and slid into the valley between her breasts. She was softer, prettier, more perfect than he’d imagined. He cupped her breast with his hand and groaned when she arched her back, pressing her nipple against his palm. “It’s like you were made for me—fit in my hand perfectly.”

“Oh.”

“Look.” He slid his hand over to cup her other breast. “Do you see?”

Pushing up on her elbows, Buffy watched his hand with its pale skin and chipped black nail polish move across her tanned skin. “Perfect.”

He used his thumb to rub circles around her tightened nipple until she whimpered then slowly moved his hand down the planes of her stomach and under the edge of her panties. He felt her body tense, heard her swift intake of breath and knew that she was still anxious. “Just a little touching. I won’t do anything you don’t like.” He’d never expected her to be shy. She was a ball buster. He’d expected her to destroy him. Even when he knew that she’d been watching him, he’d simply thought that she was considering using him to satisfy a little bad boy kink. He’d have played the part if that was what it took to be with her. What he’d found instead, this girl who trembled and blushed when he touched her, threw him for a loop.

“You’re doing everything too slow. It makes it worse, makes me all shaky. Just do it. Get it done with. No talking about it.”

He had to bite back a laugh. There was the girl he knew, all demanding and pouty. “That is not how this is going to happen. This—us—it’s important, gonna be bloody spectacular, and we are gonna take our time and do it right.”

“I can’t just lie here and—Oh!”

Spike slid his hand down to cup between her legs. “Don’t expect you to lay all still and quiet, kitten.” His fingers moved gently, studying her shape, finding the sensitive little bundle of nerves hidden below her soft curls. “I’m kinda hopin’ I can make you scream a little.” He tapped a finger against her clit.

Her hands shot up and clutched his shoulders. “Oh my god!” She looked at him in surprise.

He gave her another tap and grinned when her entire body jerked in response. He’d barely touched her and she was ready to explode. “Gotta admit, pet, I was hoping for my name but that’s not too bad either.”

“Jerk.”

Chuckling, he kissed her neck and her shoulder. “Brat.” He kissed a path along her collarbone and whispered, “Come for me,” as he pulled her nipple into his mouth and pinched her clit.

She came with a breathy shout, clinging to him until the tremors left her. “I---whoa—I don’t know—w”

“You come all dainty like.” He pulled her earlobe between his teeth, bit down softly and tugged. “Your cheeks get pink and your mouth makes this pretty little ‘O’—sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re teasing.”

“Not even a little bit.” He pulled her hand down and placed it on the bulge in the front of his jeans. “You drive me crazy.”

“Oh.” Buffy looked down at her hand on him in surprise. “I bet you’ve had sex with lots of girls.”

“I would say a few not a lot, but I don’t suppose that matters much.” He kissed her cheek and rested his forehead on hers. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have waited for you.” Feeling like a total pussy for making such an admission, he shrugged. “Didn’t know girls like you existed.”

“I want to touch you too.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. Maybe it was the sweet afterglow of a surprising and delightful first orgasm, but she absolutely felt like she could trust him.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her over so she sat astride his lap. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “That’s good. Now just…” He gripped her hips and shook her slightly so that she would rock back and forth. “Just like that. Should be nice for you too, yeah?”

She nodded, adjusting to the intense sensation of him pressing against her. Placing her hand tentatively on his chest, she glanced up at his face shyly.

Not sure what the question was, but confident that the answer was yes, Spike nodded. “You can do anything you want.”

She brushed her hand across his nipple. “Do you like this?”

“You touching me? Fuck, yes.”

“You swear a lot.”

“It bother you?”

She shook her head. “Nope.” Looking down again, she watched her hands move across his stomach and wondered how she had possibly kept her hands off him for as long as she did. He was intensely sexy.

“You keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna come fast, kitten.”

She giggled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m covered in chocolate and you want a bite.”

Buffy licked her lips without even thinking. “That’s a thing isn’t it? People like pour chocolate on each other and then lick it off.”

Spike didn’t have a chance. The mental picture of licking chocolate sauce of Buffy’s pretty little breasts hit him and he came without a moment’s warning. “Oh Fuck!” His hips bucked, knocking Buffy to the side where she watched his dismayed reaction with a grin. When she giggled, he turned towards her in astonishment. “It’s not funny. This doesn’t normally happen. This never happens. I’m usually very good at…”

She couldn’t help herself; the more he spoke the harder she laughed. When he stalked off to find a towel she nearly doubled over.

His jeans were done for; he yanked open a drawer and pulled out a fresh pair.

“Don’t get dressed. Just wipe down and come back.”

“Why, so you can laugh at me some more?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a baby. It was funny.” She stood up and walked over to him. “In a hot sort of way.”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “It’s right sexy when a guy can’t keep it together enough to stop from messing up his pants.”

Buffy placed her hands on either side of his face and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his scowling mouth. “Everything you do…pretty much hot.”

He arched a single eyebrow while he studied her expression. Deciding that she meant it, he lifted her up to sit on the dresser and stepped between her knees. “You drive me crazy.”

“You mentioned that earlier.”

“Still true.”

“Got it.” She reached out to fiddle with the button on his jeans. “So I guess you’re pretty much done, huh?”

“With you? Not a chance, love. You wanna let me talk you in to taking off those sexy little knickers?”

She swatted his shoulder playfully. “You really are a pig.”

“If by that you mean I’m a bloke, then I’d say yes.” He leaned in for another kiss. “You have the sweetest mouth. Sometimes I’d start you going just so I could watch your lips move.”

“You did not.”

“As you wish, princess.” He waggled his eyebrows and pressed the tip of his tongue against his teeth.

Her eyes widened. “You really tried to make me fight with you.”

That she’d only spoken with him when they were fighting and that he’d figured it best to take what he could get was seriously too lame to mention, even if it was the truth. He didn’t want her to give him that pitying look girls got when they thought a guy was pathetic. “All part of my very successful plot to get you in bed. Now watch while I take you back there and make you forget this whole bit of conversation.” He scooped her up, carried her back to the bed and tossed her on it. “All right Summers, what’s it gonna take to get you out of those pants?”

“You’re still wearing your pants.”

Spike nodded. “So I am.” Smirking, he undid his jeans and pushed them off. “Your turn.”

Her jaw dropped. “How could you possibly be all…hard again?” It was, she decided, even bigger up close.

“And again I have to wonder if your mirror is broken.”

“But you just…”

Climbing onto the bed, he pressed her down and hovered over her. “You haven’t seen anything yet, love.”


“Promises, promises.” She smiled up at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. A few hours earlier she’d been sure that he was the enemy; now she was thinking that he was the one. Spike thought that she was special. He wanted her. She wasn’t completely naïve; she knew that there were plenty of boys at school who’d have liked to take her to bed. She just didn’t really think their interest was in her as much as it was in the sex itself. Spike made her feel like she was the important part. It was all the girl who grew up in Liam Summers’ shadow had ever wanted; that the boy giving it to her had a hot body, a sexy accent and a dangerous look was just frosting.

“You’re going away again, taking a little walk about in your mind.” He kissed her temple. “What’s going on? Trying to figure out how to give me the brush off already?”

“What? No.”

“So what is it then?”

“Nothing.”

He laughed. “How is it a little girl who lies as much as you do can be such total rubbish at it?”

“I…” Her mouth opened and closed twice before, blushing, she turned away. What was she going to say? You’re really the only person I lie to.

“I’m just teasing, sweetheart. Don’t be sad.” He kissed the soft skin below her ear and licked her neck.

Buffy scrunched her face and pulled away. “That tickles.”

Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear. “Bet you’d like my tongue someplace else.”

The feel of his hot breath, the image his words gave, the sound of his voice saying them, all of it sent shivers straight to her core. “Spike.” She didn’t even recognize the husky, breathless sound as her own voice.

“That’s right, love. Why don’t you just practice that so you’ll be ready to shout it when I take you over the edge.” He reached behind his neck, grasped her wrists, and led her hands to the headboard. “Hold on.”

He saw a touch of uneasiness in her eyes, but he saw lust there too. She might not like him or maybe she hadn’t yet decided, either way Spike knew that she wanted him. He had every intention of using that to convince her that he could make her happy. He waited until she cautiously gripped the headboard before he began making a trail of soft open-mouthed kisses from her neck to her stomach.

She wanted to tell him that he was too cocky, bossing her around and bragging about how she would be screaming his name, but she was too turned on to do anything more than gasp each time his hot wet mouth touched her skin. He was arrogant, she figured, but probably also right.

“Watch me, kitten.”

Buffy lifted her head just in time to see him trace her bellybutton with his tongue. He slid his fingertips below the edge of her underwear and, without pulling his gaze from hers, started to pull them down. He dragged them very slowly down the entire length of her legs and didn’t look away from her eyes until her reached her feet which he untangled one at a time pausing to kiss the inside of each ankle. Then he started kissing his way back up her legs, slowly spreading them so that he could position himself between her knees. She knew where he was going, what he had planned, and it wasn’t right. “Spike.”

He kissed the inside of her knee. “Yes?”

“I don’t…don’t want you to do that.”

“Hmmm.” Not looking up, he kissed her thigh. “I think you do. I think you’re shy, which is bloody adorable, and you’re worried that I might want you to do the same, which I’d love but would never push on you.” He paused to kiss her thigh again before looking up at her. “It’s just a kiss. Don’t you like me kissing you?”

“Yes, but you’re too far away.” Her cheeks red, she ducked her head.

He reached up and cupped her cheek. “Tell me.”

“It’s my first time. I just want it to be with you, not like—I want to feel your arms around me and I want kiss you and I want it be for both of us.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He moved closer so he could kiss her forehead. “I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You don’t think it counts as sex.”

“I guess I don’t. It’s more like foreplay.”

She nodded. “But it’s different.”

“You’re right. I was—we don’t have to do anything. We could go rent a movie or—”

“That’s not what I said. I said it’s my first time.”

“Oh.” He kissed her again, hard and possessive. “Fuck.” He held the sides of her face so he could study her eyes. “Are you sure? I’ll wait.”

“Please. I want to be your girl.”

“You are my girl, my bossy, sexy little kitten. I’m not gonna let you get away—bloody well stuck with me now.” He nuzzled her neck and ran his hand down her stomach. “I want you so bad, baby, more than water, more than air.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “Wow, that’s a lot.” She ran her hands up and down his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles moving beneath his skin. Her boyfriend, she thought with a grin, was kind of built.

“You have no idea.” He reached around his back and pulled one of her hands down. “Here.” He wrapped both of their hands around his cock and slid them up and down slowly until she took over. Then he reached for the drawer in his bedside table and felt around for the condoms he’d bought while in an unusually optimistic mood. He wished he’d thought to open the box ahead of time; pulling out a 40 pack could send the wrong message. It wasn’t easy, but he got the box open with one hand and pulled out a single foil package. He dropped it near the pillow and pulled her face close for a kiss.

“I’m pretty sure you have to actually put that on for it to work.”

“Yeah, yeah, smartass, in a little bit. Gotta get you all warmed up first.” He cupped her breast and nuzzled her neck, enjoying the sweet smell of her.

“Pretty warm already.” Tentatively, she rubbed her thumb across his tip. When he gasped, she did it again. “You seem warm too.”

“Fuck.” Spike closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. Even thoughts of the Queen Mum were no match against the feel of Buffy’s fingers. “That’s good—so good—might best-fuck-best stop.”

“No fun.”

“Is that so?” He slid his hand down her body and dipped a finger into her hot, wet channel.

“Oh! That is…really, really…” She felt his thumb circle her clit and she whimpered. “Oh, god.”

“I’ve never been someone’s first. I don’t want to let you down.”

“You won’t. Spike, please.”

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop. I don’t want to hurt you.” He waited for her to nod and reached for the condom.

Buffy watched dazedly as a swirl of nerves and excitement churned in her stomach. The step she was about to take seemed both inconceivable and inevitable. She’d only known him for six weeks, had thought just that morning that she couldn’t stand him, and yet there was something in his eyes that made her feel safe and seen. She wanted him more than she could ever remember wanting anything.

He kissed her slowly and sweetly before guiding her into position and, resting his forehead against hers, slowly pushed in.

There was discomfort and an awkwardness that was nearly enough to pull her out of the moment, but his words—the constant whisper of endearments—kept hold of her until it passed.

After a moment, she urged him on with her hand on his back and the cautious rising of her hips towards his. It was spectacular, she decided, in giving herself to him she was more her own. She claimed her body; it was hers to share with whom she pleased. She heard his ragged breath, saw the pleasure in his eyes and that was hers too. She had given him that. The breasts she’d worried were too small were perfect in his hands. Her heels had new purpose pressed against his back. Her hand was stronger when their fingers intertwined. She was powerful and beautiful. She was wiser than she had been that morning, knew truths that were eternal. She had a lover.

He came, trembling, far sooner than he’d have hoped. “Buffy.”

“That was…” She smiled. “Kind of awesome—weird awesome.”

He chuckled hoarsely before kissing her nose. “You’re not done yet, love.” He pressed himself against her side, slide his leg between hers and used his fingers to stoke the kindling embers of her desire back to full flames. “Come for me, baby—my beautiful girl—let go and…”

“Oh!”

“There’s my girl. So bloody hot. Ride it out.” He pulled her closer and waited until her breathing evened out before he pulled away to deal with the condom.

She sat up, instantly alarmed by the loss of contact. “Spike?”

“Not going anywhere, love. I told you.”

She waited until he’d lied back down beside her and pulled her head onto his chest. “Told me what?” She snuggled closer, draping her arm across his waist.

“You’re stuck with me.”

“I think I can get used to that.”

He kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be better next time. I’ll—”

“It was perfect this time.”

He’d thought that she would doze off, that they both would, but she was surprisingly energetic. After only a few moments, she rolled onto her stomach and popped up on her elbows to study his face. Deciding that she seemed more thoughtful than anything else, he let his eyes close and simply enjoyed her nearness.

After a while. “You’re handsome.”

“Glad you think so.” He opened his eyes and grinned at her studious expression.

She reached up and touched the small silver bar that pierced the center of his left eyebrow. Somehow, she thought, his still wearing it made the rest of him seem more naked. “I like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup.”

“Only got it to cover the scar, you know—forget it’s there sometimes.” He didn’t know why he’d said it, immediately wished he could take back the words. He’d been too relaxed, too comfortable; he’d broken his own rule.

Buffy frowned and leaned closer. “What scar?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Spike.” She could see it now that she was looking, a few thin white lines that seemed to radiate from near the bar.

He sighed. “Stepdad number two thought I had a smart mouth—knocked me about a bit. No big deal except once I hit the fireplace and got bashed up a touch.” He frowned at her suddenly wide-eyed expression; it was exactly why he’d gotten the piercing. The whole look had evolved from that. It turns out an eyebrow piercing stands out too much on a boy with a button down shirt and shaggy brown hair. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not an afterschool special—been living with my uncle for years now. He’s a good bloke, bit boring with his tweed jackets and dusty old books, but we get on fine.”

“Oh.” Her hand came up to cover her mouth and her eyes stung.

“Please, pet. Don’t.” Spike wouldn’t be a victim. He’d gotten himself out of that house. At eight years old he’d turned his own folks in. He didn’t need pity; didn’t want anyone ever thinking that he was weak.

“I was jealous.” Her voice was a shaky whisper. “It was one of the reasons I was so—my parents would never let me do something like that and I felt all sorry for myself and jealous and you only did it because…” She blinked rapidly and turned away.

“Hey. Don’t do this. Everybody’s got a story—some kind of drama. There’s no point in trying to pick whose is sorriest. I don’t think about it. I’ve got a good thing going now—prettiest girl in town’s gonna let me take her out tomorrow.”

“What?” She pulled back and glared.

He laughed. “You, kitten. You are going to let me take you out on a proper date. After which I will bring you home and shag you like crazy.”

She smacked his shoulder. “You did that intentionally, you big jerk.” She grinned suddenly and laughed. “My parents won’t be home until Sunday night, maybe not even until Monday. They actually moved a seriously hot guy into their house and then went out of town for the weekend thus leaving said hotness alone with their teenage daughter.”

“Seriously hot?”

“Oh yeah.”

He laughed. “You know they won’t approve of this. I mean I’m fine as a temporary addition, a little too colorful but not actually a representation of them, so it’s fine. But I am definitely not good enough for their princess.”

Buffy, shocked by his perceptiveness, couldn’t disagree. “They’ll get over it. Really, they’ll forget about it as soon as Liam gives them something new to brag about. They might not even notice for a while if we don’t mention it.”

“They pay more attention to you than you think.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not that I don’t think they love me. I know they do…it’s just different than with Liam. He’s their favorite.”

“You’re my favorite.”

Buffy leaned close and kissed him. “Of course you think those hideous boots you wear are cool, so we know that your taste is questionable at best.”

“Oi. Those are classic Doc Martins. Besides, taste in clothes and taste in girls are two entirely different things. I have brilliant taste in girls.”

“I just realized that I’m starving.”

He laughed. “Post shag munchies.”

“Really? Is that a thing?”

“Sure. Burn off a lot of calories-need to refuel for another round.”

She stood up, gathered her clothes and started dressing. “I think I’m going to be a jealous girlfriend.” She really didn’t like the idea of his having had “another round” with someone else.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing all my exes are back in London and none were as pretty as you.”

“Really? None of the girls on the squad?” She stopped mid-buttoning her shirt to turn and look at him in surprise.

Spike tugged on a clean pair of jeans and walked over. “I told you.” He took over the buttoning of her top. “I’ve been yours since I got here.”

Buffy Summers had a great Senior year.