“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Buffy stared at the mysterious objects under the hood of her car. She couldn’t name more than a couple of them, but figured looking under the hood was simply what a person did when their car didn’t start.

“My favorite too.”

“What?” She lifted her head and turned to glare in the direction of the voice only to be caught deer-in-the headlights-style by the too blue eyes of one Spike Pratt. Her knees very nearly gave out beneath her. She tightened her grip on the car.

“Curse word.”

She just stared. The man was even prettier standing in bright sunlight than he was was sitting in class. His bleach enhanced hair nearly glowed. It should have looked silly or maybe rough, like he was a punk and a delinquent. Instead, it put Buffy to thinking about halos. She knew her friends would have a field day if she admitted that. Of course that would be nothing new. Buffy’s awkward naivete regarding men was a constant source of entertainment for her nearest and dearest.

He grinned. “Do you need a hand?”

“Huh?”

“With the car. I could take a look if you’d like.” He tilted his head toward the car sending the shadows on his face dancing over his sharp cheekbones and full lips.

She nodded until the ability to speak returned to her. “Please. That would be great.” She laughed softly. “I don’t even know what I’m looking at here.”

“No problem, love.”

He’d called her love. She might have to change her name. Buffy watched in awe as he quickly tugged his pale blue t-shirt off and tucked it into his back pocket of his well-worn jeans. Her mouth went dry. “So nice...of you to look for me --at the car--my car which won’t start.” She was nodding again. She really had to stop nodding. Swallowing a whimper, she stepped out of his way.

He took her place in front of the engine and immediately began checking fluids and other underhood happenings.

She stared at his back. She’d done so before, but never when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. No shirt was a really good look for him. When he reached out, the muscles moved and stretched beneath his pale skin with a sexy fluidity. Her gaze dropped to his denim-clad ass and she licked her lips. She figured it was official at that point: she was a bad person. He was trying to help her and she couldn’t resist ogling his rear end. Buffy wanted very much to believe she was a stronger, better person, but if she couldn’t pull her gaze away from the man’s glutes she was going to have to accept otherwise. “I’m...umm...I just need to call my friend and tell her I’ll be late.” She hurried over to the sidewalk and around the corner of the large brick building that housed most of the science department of Sunnydale Community College.

She yanked the slim silver cellphone out of her back pocket and tapped on the picture of a brunette with a movie star smile.When her friend, Cordelia, answered she launched into a breathless recounting of her situation.

Cordelia stopped her half way through. “The hot one from your Biology class?”

“Yuhuh.”

“Nice. Why aren’t you standing next to him saying super grateful things and laughing at his crappy jokes?”

“He’s kind of a man-of-few-words type, besides...” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He took off his shirt.”

“And?”

“In a word: yum.”

“So go. Talk to him. Flirt. And most importantly: get laid before it grows back and you’re like a reborn virgin.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“It’s just an expression.”

“I know. I meant the talking. I don’t so much seem to have the ability to say actual words.”

Cordelia laughed throatily. “That hot?”

“That hot.”

“This is not a real person problem, Buffy. Go talk to the hot guy trying to fix your car. Now.”

Buffy bit her lip and nodded. “You’re right. I can...do that. I can—What if I can’t do that? I’m pretty sure I can’t do that.”



Seeing no option other than jumping her battery, Spike walked over to tell her the news. He stopped a few feet away in an effort to give the girl some privacy but couldn’t help moving a little closer when he heard her reporting that he’d taken off his shirt. And that she’d appreciated the view.

It was all way too good to be true. He’d given up trying to pay attention in Bio lecture weeks ago. Frankly, he didn’t understand how anyone could with a girl as distractingly sensual as Buffy Summers in the room. Something about her reduced him to the bundle of anxiety and wistfulness he’d been back at the start of puberty. If she hadn’t had such a strange power over him, he’d have simply talked her into his bed and gotten her out of his system. It wasn’t like he was going to school on a lark. Spike was paying his own tuition. He was there to learn, not gawk at pretty girls.

But once again, lecture had ended and he’d looked down at his notebook to see a blank page. Today though, it seemed fate had stepped in. The time it took him to go by the library and check out the lecture note archive meant that he was the only one still around to see Buffy staring at the engine of her car as though it might leap out at her like an alien in a Ridley Scott film. It was his in and he’d intended to make the best of it. Though, from the sound of her telephone chat, he hadn’t even needed one. Imagine that.

He leaned against the brick wall and waited for her to come back around the corner, taking a touch of a mischievous pleasure at her look of surprise upon finding him so close.

“I think I gotta jump you.”

Her big green eyes went wide. “Huh?”

Spike struggled to fake an innocent expression. “Your battery is dead. I’ll give it a jump. I’ve got cables in my boot.”

“Some of that made sense.”

He laughed. “Come on. I’ll need a hand.”

Spike pulled his car up close to hers and tried to keep things serious while he explained the process and checked to make sure all the lights, radios and wipers were turned off in their cars. He let his hand brush down the length of her arm as he attached the cables. She shuddered and he was forced to think about the serious unpleasantness of helping his grandfather cut his toenails in order to avoid becoming visibly aroused.

“Alright, then. You’ll want to stand clear.” He cupped her elbow gently and guided her a few steps away from the cars before yanking open the driver side door of his lovingly restored DeSoto and starting the engine. He set it up to idle and hopped back out. “Let’s give it a few minutes.”

Buffy nodded. “Thank you. This is--I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”

“Just glad I was here. Place is looking close to deserted.”

She smiled and Spike could have sworn the surrounding area brightened. “Friday afternoon at a commuter school.” She held out her hand. “I’m Buffy. Actually, I’m in your--”

“Biology lecture. I know who you are, ducks.”

“Oh.” Her expression was hard to read: surprise, maybe. She smelled like strawberries, fresh and sweet. He wouldn’t have thought that would be sexy, but it was.

He carefully took her hand and shook. “I’m Spike.”

“Pratt.” She laughed. “I know.”

“Right.” He looked down at the hand he was still clutching and turned it slowly to study her brightly painted fingernails. He brushed the pad of his thumb over the slick, aqua blue surfaces of three nails. “Cute.”

Making no effort to pull her hand away, she shrugged. “A friend of mine is studying cosmetology. She practices on me a lot.”

“The friend you just called?”

“No, that was Cordy. She’s definitely more the hiring type than the working type. Like a queen bee, you know?”

“And you?”

“Worker bee.”

“A worker bee with pretty hands? I don’t know if I buy that.”

She blushed, releasing a tantalizing pink lemonade hue that crept up her sweetly rounded cheeks. Damn, but he wanted a taste.

“So what are you going to be late for?”

“What?” Her brow wrinkled.

“What are you plannin’ to do with the queen bee this evening?”

“Oh. Nothing really. Nothing important.”

“So you were basically just phoning to tell her that I took off my shirt.”

She gasped and tugged her hand back. “What? I didn’t—you heard?”

“I heard.”

“Oh, god.” She started to turn away.

Spike grasped her elbow and leaned close. “Don’t be embarrassed, love. Not like I was actually concerned about getting grease on an old t-shirt.”

Still wide-eyed, she looked up at him. “You weren’t?”

“Nah. I was just hoping you might notice some of that time I’ve been spending in the campus weight room.”

“I noticed.” Her lips twitched before settling on a shy smile.

Spike couldn’t help wondering just how confident his own grin was looking. It was not a concern he’d had in a long time. Something about Buffy brought out the nerd he’d long since buried under punk band tees and leather. “Let’s give this a try, yeah?”

“Give…”

“Your car. Wanna try starting her up?”

“Oh! Right. Of course.” She nodded quickly before darting towards her driver’s side door.

Spike followed her over and watched with satisfaction as her engine started easily. “Brilliant. Just make sure you don’t let her stop too soon.”

“Thank you so much. Really--I don’t know what I would’ve done. Thanks.”

“Not a problem, Buffy.” It was time to go for it, to see just how interested she was. “I could follow you to your place if you like—make sure you don’t have any more problems. I’d hate to have you get stuck on the roadside.”

“Do you think there might be problems still?”

He couldn’t lie. “No. I think you’re all set as long as you let the engine run for a few and charge up the battery. But, if you’d feel safer…I’m not in a rush to get anywhere.”

“I would. I mean, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I don’t live too far from here and I would feel a lot better if you were…”

“Close?”

“Yeah.” She was getting a little breathless.

“Alright.” Spike reached over and brushed a piece of hair back behind her ear. The back of his thumb slid down her cheek. She seemed a tad startled by his touch, but not, he thought, upset. “Give me a mo’ to undo the cables and I’ll follow you.”

Buffy wondered if she should speed a little. Spike looked like the kind of guy who considered speed limits suggestions more than firm rules. Or maybe he knew they were rules and chose to ignore them out of a generally rebellious nature. Would he think she was a total nerd if she just drove the posted speed? Did it matter? She’d already humiliated herself. He no doubt thought she was a freak.

Her face felt hot, so she turned the AC as cold as it would go.

She glanced at the rear view mirror. He was right behind her. Spike Pratt was following her back to her house. Did he want her to invite him in or was he really just being a nice guy?

Far too quickly, long before she’d truly had a chance to consider all the possibilities, Buffy pulled into her driveway. Spike pulled his giant, shiny tank in right behind her. She wondered what kind of car it was. Maybe she could look it up online and impress him with her knowledge next week.

Spike popped out of his car before she’d even turned off the ignition. He tugged open her door. “How’d she feel?”

“Good. Normal.”

“Good.” He smiled. “You might have just left a light on or something--drained the battery. It happens.”

Buffy couldn’t help chuckling. “To ditzy girls, you mean? You’re being polite.”

“You seem to hold your own in class.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. Did that mean he’d paid attention to her in class? “Thanks...for helping with the car and following and umm...thanks.”

“Like I said, love, I’m just glad I could help.” Still holding her door open, he stepped back just a little.

She climbed out and lifted her chin to look up at him. He was standing so close she could smell the aftershave he’d put on that morning. It was spicy, like pine trees and cinnamon. “Do you want to--can I offer you a drink or something?”




He nodded, shocked by his string of good luck.

She smiled and blushed in response. “Good. Okay. That’s...cool.”

She was bouncing a little on her toes. She tended to do things like that, cute fidgety things that made Spike think she needed to work off some excess energy. He’d spent far too much time during Bio thinking up ways he’d like to help her do just that.

“It’s just, um, over there.” She pointed to the right side of a brick duplex. The door was painted colonial red, but the paint was peeling off in several places. She shrugged. “Third floor walk up but the rent isn’t too bad and there’s a laundry room in the basement. I used to share a place with a friend but we had to go to a laundromat.”

He wasn’t certain how to respond. She was clearly just anxious. “Talk a lot, don’t you?”

She winced. “You don’t like that--I mean, when a girl talks too much you don’t--”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Right, because you don’t talk, or not much. I mean, you definitely don’t talk too much, do you?”

“Did we end on a question there, love? I think I got lost on one of the turns.”

She laughed a little breathlessly. “Nevermind.” She shook her head and started walking across the parking lot.

Spike followed a couple steps behind. When she opened the door, he reached up to hold it over her head as she walked in. “I like hearing you talk, Buffy.”

She just stared at him for a moment, eyes round with surprise yet again before turning and hurrying up the stairs.

He also liked watching her talk, he thought; her lips were shaped prettily and they were always shiny. He’d seen he putting on the shiny pink coating once and he’d liked that too. She’d been standing near her car at the time and she must have thought she was alone, because she’d bent over and used the driver’s side mirror to watch as she slid the make-up over her lips. Remembering the way she’d held her mouth open and then pressed her lips together twice when she was done was not helping Spike keep up the cool and collected demeanor he was going for. He swallowed hard.

She was driving him insane. Even the way she ran up stairs was inordinately appealing.

He was breathing hard by the time they reached her door but it had nothing to do with the staircases they’d climbed. Certainly she realized that he wasn’t coming in for a glass of lemonade. Right? He watched her unlock the slightly more recently painted door of her apartment. Her hands were shaky, as was the smile she showed him before walking inside.

“This is it. It’s small, but--”

“It’s a nice place, love.” His quick glance around let him assure her honestly. It was small, very small, but it was clean and the appliances in the kitchenette on the side looked fairly new. She’d hung bright turquoise curtains and had matching pillows on the tan couch. “Looks like you’ve got things set up all good and cozy.” He grinned. “The only window covering I’ve got at my place is an old sheet that blocks out the light in my bedroom.”

“Oh. That’s...”

Spike reached around her and pushed the door closed. He sighed. “Right. So, I’m going to kiss you in a minute and if that’s not what you want, I guess you’ll slap me or something.”

“Oh.”

She lifted her chin slightly and Spike decided it was all the invitation he needed. He closed the distance between them, curled his hand around the back of her neck and brought his mouth to hers. When their lips met, she shuddered, but she moved closer too.

Spike was struggling to keep the kiss light when she suddenly reached up and cupped his face. He was surprised, but he didn’t hesitate. Grabbing her waist with his free hand, he tugged her body tight against his and groaned into her mouth. He could taste her hunger for him. It floored him.

He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled away to look at her face.

“Oh!” She seemed shocked, but Spike wasn’t sure what exactly had surprised her. She pulled her hands off his cheeks and covered her mouth. “Oh god!”

“Yeah, so there’s something here.”

Her eyes were glossy. “There is?”

He just waited.

“There is.”

She was a mystery. Even as she acknowledged their mutual attraction, she stared at him like she thought he’d reject her at any moment. “So what are we going to do about it, love?” Spike carefully removed his hand from her hair and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “You gonna let me take you out sometime?”

“Let you--yeah, that would be really nice.” She bit her lip for a second. “I...” She frowned.

“What is it, what’s going on in that mysterious head of yours?”

She stood on her toes and clutched at his shirt. “I think I’m going to kiss you.” She shrugged slightly before pressing her lips to his.

Spike groaned. He felt drunk; just the touch of her lips intoxicated him. Her tongue slid across his bottom lip, clouding his mind and urging him forward. A little voice in his head told him that it was all too good to be real. This stunning woman clinging to him and kissing him with more passion than he’d ever felt was better than his very best fantasy.

She looked shocked again, when she finally pulled away. “You...I...you...”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“You and me. I say yeah.”

“Oh.” She smiled and ducked her head. “But you must think I’m...that I’m...”

He leaned in to whisper against her ear. “Love, all I’m thinking is that you’re bloody gorgeous and this morning I must have woken up a much luckier man than I’ve ever been before.” Savoring her quiet gasp, he pulled her back to his mouth. He knew that he should probably slow things down, that her concern about his impression of her wasn’t just an act, but thinking clearly wasn’t an option. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman the way he wanted her and she seemed so very ready to be his.

Spike circled her waist with his hands, lifted her up and carried her the few steps to the kitchen counter. “There”, he grinned as he sat her on the laminate surface. “That's better.” He moved into the space between her knees, thrust his fingers back into her hair and reclaimed her mouth with a deep kiss. When she moaned, he grinned against her lips. “Such a sexy little thing.”

“Me?” She laughed.

“You.”

“You are definitely getting the wrong idea about me.”

Spike chuckled. “That so?” He slid his hand down her back and snuck a few fingers under the hem of her shirt so he could stroke the bare skin at the small of her back.

Her eyelids fluttered and her breath quickened. “I never do things like this.”

“That’s a shame, love. You were made for things like this.” He rubbed his nose against the shell of her ear, inhaling the sweetness of the strawberry scent he’d noticed earlier and the deeper, tangier, salt and spice scent of her arousal. “I’ve never seen anyone react like you do.”

Her brow furrowed instantly and he realized that he’d made her self conscious again. She was like a tiger in a cage. If he could figure out how to unlock the bars she’d put up, to free her from all the things she thought she was supposed to do and say and all the things she thought she shouldn’t, she’d tear into him. Just the thought of her dragging her claws down his back had him hard. “Come on kitty, come out and play with me.”



It didn’t even make any sense. Buffy wasn’t sure if he meant she was a cat or if he thought there was a cat hiding inside her. Was having a hidden cat a good thing? She had no idea. What she did know, what she was absolutely certain of, was that Spike whispering those words to her was the sexiest thing that had ever happened in her life. His accent, the deep timbre of his voice, the feel of his fingertips rubbing circles on her back and the intense focus in his gaze: it all added up to this perfect stomach-clenching, knees-trembling storm. She ached. “Are you a cat too?”

He didn’t answer; he just sort of smiled at her before tugging her shirt up over her head. He licked his lips as he studied at her, sending a series of shivers through her core.

Spike reached for the front center clasp of her bra with both hands and then froze, his fingertips and knuckles brushing against her over-sensitive skin. “This is what you want.”

“Yes,” she answered even though it hadn’t exactly sounded like a question. The look of surprise on his handsome face emboldened her and she wrapped her hands around his neck. ‘You’re what I want.”

Buffy pointed, unable to get the words ‘this is happening--this is seriously happening’ to stop running through her head on repeat. She murmured them quietly to herself as he scooped her off the counter and carried her across the small room.

Spike placed her carefully on the bed and stepped back to unlace his boots. Kicking off her flip-flops, Buffy pulled her knees to her chest and sat up to watch him.

He grinned at her before tugging off his shirt. “Gonna call anyone this time?”

“You’re so pretty.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled as he dropped to his hands and knees at the edge of the bed and crawled up towards her. “Whatcha gonna do about that?”

“I don’t know. I mean I’m not really very good at this stuff--the sex stuff. I probably shouldn’t have told you that, right? I mean confidence is hotter and now you are probably having second thoughts about all of this. But you could be thinking about it and getting like expectations about things and it seems unfair and I don’t want to disappoint you. Are you--having second thoughts?”

Spike kissed her hard on lips and then rested his forehead against hers. “Bloody adorable.” He carefully cupped her chin as he kissed a path down the column of her neck and into the valley between her breasts. He slid his hand up her torso, skimming her skin and leaving a wake of shudders before cupping her breast. His thumb toyed with her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra.

She whimpered before gasping, “Spike?”

He blinked twice before meeting her gaze. The lust she read there took away her breath. He wanted her. Maybe, she thought dazedly, he wanted her nearly as bad as she wanted him. It was surreal. He was far too...everything, for her. Girls who got dumped after their boyfriends told the whole school that they gave bad head did not get a chance with a sexy gift-from-the-gods like Spike.

Buffy reached down, undid the snap on her olive green cargo pants and shoved them down her thighs. A quick shimmy and some kicking of her feet was all it took to land them on the floor and leave her wearing only her not-expecting-sexy-times cotton bra and panties. Fleetingly, she wished she had chosen a prettier set that morning. This was Spike, after all. The one time they’d made accidental eye-contact during class she’d been forced to spend the next hour squeezing her thighs together and fighting the urge to rock in her chair. He’d come closer to getting her off than any other guy before or since and he’d done it without saying or doing anything other than smiling. Spike deserved the kind of lingerie she didn’t even own, something with a garter belt or a thong.

Spike gripped her hip tightly while leaning down to kiss her again. His tongue swiped teasingly across her bottom lip before pushing into her mouth. She moaned deeply as reached up and buried her fingers in his hair. Sweat had dampened the locks bringing out a touch of the natural curl she knew he hid with bleach and gel.

He dragged his mouth away from her lips to kiss and nip the length of her neck. Her hips bucked, her body instinctively trying to get closer to his.

“Please,” she whispered.


He chuckled deeply; it was better than any dream he’d ever had. Beautiful, charming women did not invite him back to their apartments and shyly beg him to make love to them. “Oh love, no worries. I’m not going anywhere. I wanna hear you scream my name when I show you just how very good at this you can be.”

She gasped softly. “William.” She said his name, his real name, very quietly.

He froze. “How do you know that?” He never used his given name. He hadn’t in years.

“I remember you.”

“From?” Slightly dazed, he lifted his head and used his elbows to hold himself up.

She was blushing. “High school. I know you probably don’t remember me--I was a couple years behind you.”

“Are you talking about Sunnydale High?” He didn’t mask his incredulity. He’d only attended Sunnydale for a few months during the middle of his junior year and he wasn’t the popular type.

She nodded. “It’s just that...well, you kinda saved me once...before.”

“How’s that?” She had to be mistaken; he was certain he’d remember playing hero for a pretty girl. He almost never even spoke to girls during high school.

“The librarian was giving me a hard time...you know about how if I’d been paying attention during orientation, I would know how to find the books I needed and you...you just walked over and handed them to me.” She stopped and looked up timidly. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Sorry, love. I--was that it?”

Smiling, she shrugged. “Pretty much. I think I babbled nervously at you for a few minutes. I remember introducing myself and then having to actually ask for your name.”

He winced at his teen self’s lack of manners.

“I saw you there a couple more times but I couldn’t think of a good excuse to talk to you,so...anyway--you just disappeared and no one I knew even knew who you were so...”

The thought that anyone had noticed his departure was hard for Spike to wrap his head around. “You looked for me?” A warm fluttering filled his stomach.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Her cheeks flushed. “You were nice and you know...”

“I promise I don’t know.”

“Girls notice cute guys with cool accents who help them when librarians are being mean. It’s not that weird.”

“Cute?” He laughed. “Love, now I know you’re thinking of someone else. I was a mess back in school. I shudder to even think of it.”

“You do have a new look these days.”

“A massive improvement.”

She reached up and brushed her fingers through his hair. “I don’t know...the curls were pretty nice and I thought the glasses made you look...”

“Like a nerd?”

“Friendlier.”

Spike laughed, giddiness was making him feel almost light-headed. He brushed a lock of honey blonde hair off her forehead. “But you recognized me?”

She nodded. “I used to wonder sometimes what had happened to you and then--boom--there you were, just sitting in my biology class.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He pressed a kiss against the upper swell of her breast and looked back at her face.

“Like what?” She laughed. “ I mean what was I supposed to say--hey, you probably don’t remember me but we spoke for like two minutes about six years ago, anyway you’re basically the hottest guy I’ve...wanna go out ?” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Spike.”

“Seriously love, that would have done it. Hell, as cute as you are...just hey would’ve done it.” She looked skeptical, so Spike leaned down and dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. “I’ve been looking for a decent excuse to talk to you for weeks.”

“Honest?”

“Honest.”

She smiled just a little. “But you don’t remember me?”

He sighed. “Wish I did. That wasn’t--I wasn’t at Sunnydale long and it wasn’t a good time for me.” It was an understatement. His mother had just died and he’d been staying with an aunt and uncle he’d barely known in a foreign country where he had to attend high school. It had basically been hell.

“I understand.” She laughed for a few seconds and then sighed. “You probably think I’m a stalker now.”

“Not a very good one. You lost track of me for half a dozen years.” He shook his head. “Poor showing.”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened for a split second before she smacked his chest. “Spike!”

“I should hold out for a more determined bird.”

“I’m determined.”

“I don’t think so. Unless, of course, this whole car business was a ruse. Did you set that up, pet? Was it all part of a diabolical plan to get me to take of my shirt?” At her giggle, he continued. “I didn’t think so. Not a very dedicated stalker at all.” He pushed himself up with one arm and turned, pretending to get ready to leave. “I think I should hold out for a stalker with a plan at least.”

Buffy gave him a shove and he dropped, laughing, down on his back. She surprised him by quickly straddling his thighs and holding herself up by pushing against his chest. “I never said I didn’t have a plan.”

“Oh, I am all ears, love. Tell me about this brilliant plan.”

“I was going to wear a skirt--a short one--a very short one actually.”

“When were you going to wear this very short skirt?”

“Soon.”

“To class?”

“Yup.” She grinned triumphantly. “So you would have noticed my short skirt and then--”

“What about all the other guys in that class?”

“What?” Her forehead wrinkled.

“What about all the other guys seeing you in that short skirt?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “They aren’t really part of the plan.”

“I don’t think I like all those guys ogling my stalker. This isn’t sounding like a very good plan.”

She frowned. “And breaking my car in hopes that you would be around and knew enough about cars to help would be a good plan? That’s ridiculous. Besides...the skirt thing was just phase one.”
.
Spike rubbed his thumbs around her tight nipples before smirking. “Well then, by all means--please continue.”

Buffy whimpered. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t really have a phase two exactly worked out yet, but I’d have come up with something and then...”

“And then?”

“And then you were supposed to be charming.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

Laughing, he pulled her mouth to his for a quick, hard kiss. “I’m sorry, love. I don’t know that my brain has gotten anywhere near enough blood this last thirty minutes or so.” He didn’t add that he was still feeling pretty thrown by the very idea of a cute girl being interested in him during high school. It felt like she was rewriting his history and he wasn’t at all certain how he should feel about that.



Buffy figured she had given him far too much evidence that she was a freak. It was time to get things back on track. She was going to have to impress him with super sexy moves. True, that had never been her forte in the past, but she’d never had this man in her bed in the past. She’d never had so much hotness to work with before. And that, she decided, had to count for something.

She sat back and trailed her fingertips over his chest. He hadn’t been joking about working out; she traced the well-defined muscles on his abdomen and slid her finger along the waistband of his jeans. Even with his belt, they rode low on his narrow hips, revealing at least five inches of taut and tantalizing skin below his belly button. She licked her lips before bending down and placing a soft kiss on that spot. The fine golden brown hairs there tickled her nose as it rubbed a path upward. Spike’s responding exhale was loud and rough, nearly a growl.

Buffy giggled against his chest. Images flashed through her mind: the thousand and one naughty sexy things she’d dreamt of doing to the man who was currently calling himself Spike, the acts she didn’t have names for, the ones she’d flat-out refused to do for men in the past. This was her moment, her chance. She bit her bottom lip and brought her gaze up to see his face.

“Buffy.” His eyes were shut, his voice was barely more than a whisper and his hands were gripping her hips hard enough to leave a mark. “So bloody hot--you’re so bloody hot, love. Burn me up.”

She leaned close and licked the straining muscle on his jaw before kissing him again. Swallowing his moans made her feel like a queen, a goddess capable of bringing grown men to their knees. She bit his earlobe before speaking in a husky voice that she’d never heard before. “I think you’re going to be screaming my name.”

Buffy had no idea where the words had come from, but the lust filling his eyes as they popped open in shock told her not to care.

Spike roughly grabbed her chin. “I want you.”

“Good.” She pulled away and reached for his belt buckle. “But I have plans for this first.” Her fingers felt thick and clumsy but she managed to maneuver the leather through the silver loop and disengage the pin. Her heart raced as she undid the snap and carefully tugged down the zipper. Her mouth was writing checks she wasn’t sure she had the skills to cover. She shook off the thought; nerves would not get in the way today. Buffy freed his erection and then sat back slightly to study it. She swallowed hard.

“Love?” He dragged one hand off her hip and used his elbow to push up and meet her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s...it’s a really nice penis.” Shit, she thought, now I’m rambling again.

Spike sat up and cupped her cheek. “Love?”

Buffy could feel the telltale heat of the blush creeping across her cheeks. “I didn’t realize-they-came-that-big.” She scrunched her eyes shut and looked away.

His breath came in warm puffs against her cheek when he chuckled. “Now I’m certain this a dream. I’ve probably knocked my head on something and fallen into a coma.” He kissed her temple and then angled her face back towards his for a deep kiss before resting his cheek against her forehead. “I won’t hurt you--if that’s--I can be gentle.”

“That doesn’t seem to fit your new bad boy persona.” She rubbed her face against the side of his neck, inhaling his scent before pressing her lips on his pulse point.

“Thought you already knew the truth anyway.” His voice was soft.

“I do?”

Spike hugged her against him and flipped them both, so that she was lying on her back and he was settled between her thighs, holding himself up on his elbows. His gaze met hers and she wondered if a girl could drown in the depths of his eyes. “That boy you talked to in high school couldn’t have even imagined a world where a girl like you would be interested.”

“But now you’re--”

“Not so different.” He brushed the hair off her forehead.

“Oh.” She couldn’t look away from his eyes. He was showing her his true self and it was beautiful, more beautiful even than she could have expected. “Oh.”

He set his hand lightly on the clasp between her breasts. “Can I see you, love?” She nodded and he deftly flicked the clasp open and pushed aside the fabric cups. His hand slid into place cupping her right breast as his head dropped to kiss her left. “You’re perfect--pretty as a picture.”

“They’re kind of--”

Frowning slightly, he pressed a single finger to her lips. “Perfect.” He held her gaze until she nodded and then bent to pull her nipple between his lips.

She gasped. “Oh, God! That’s...” His tongue felt hot enough to scald but oh-so good as it swiped a wet circle around her nipple. Her back arched, pressing her more firmly against his lips. “Oh.”


Spike continued nipping at her breasts with his lips and teeth until she was writhing and grasping at his shoulders. Slowly he slid his hand down her torso and under the edge of her panties. She tensed slightly as his fingertips brushed through the soft curls there, but she didn’t pull away. She gasped at sweet sensation of his finger sliding between her folds.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened and she pressed her fingernails into his skin. He chuckled. “There you are, kitten.”

Buffy carefully loosened her hold. “Sorry.”

“Not at all. I wanna see your claws.” He gave her a slow drugging kiss. “I wanna see you lose control.” His finger moved deeper.

Moaning softly, Buffy wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed her face against his chest.

Slowly, he filled her with two long fingers. “So hot--sweet.”

He carefully slid his fingers in and out and in again before bringing his thumb to rest on her clit. He circled. He tapped. He pinched.

Buffy came undone. Waves of release hit her faster and harder than she’d thought possible. Distantly, she could hear him murmur encouragingly as he pumped his fingers in and out of her quaking channel, but she couldn’t make out the words. She clutched his shoulders tightly so wouldn’t float away and, when it was finally done, she collapsed limply against his chest.

Spike cupped her head. “Condoms.”

Buffy blinked. She wouldn’t have thought she could still blush after coming that hard, but her body had other ideas. “I...” Did nice girls have condoms? She had lots. Lots of condoms that she never used.

“Please tell me you have a couple of condoms here somewhere.”

“I think there’s a box in the cabinet under the sink...in the bathroom. They were um...a gift.” Yup, her friends had given her a bulk size package of condoms and told her it was time to get past the jerk she’d dated in high school and have a life.

“Brilliant.” He kissed her quickly before standing up, shoving his jeans off and strolling off toward her tiny bathroom.

Seeing his perfectly-formed ass pushed away all of her concerns about Spike’s reaction to finding an unopened box of fifty condoms in her bathroom. It was a fine enough ass to make her seriously consider taking a sculpture course next term The thought of spending three months in an art studio trying to recreate Spike’s cute, pale behind had her giggling hard when he came back, victoriously carrying the blue cardboard box.

“Should I take this as a challenge?”

She just kept giggling.

“Seriously, pet, I’ve never seen a box this big. Where do you even buy these?”

Laughing, Buffy picked up a pillow and covered her face. “I swear it was a present--some friends...”

“You have interesting friends.”

She lowered the pillow a little and peeked over it. “They said it was an intervention--because I need to get a life.”

“When did they do this?” His eyebrow arched intriguingly.

“Um...about eight months ago.”

“And you haven’t opened the box yet?” He turned the box to display the top as he climbed back onto the bed.

She shook her head.

“Brilliant.” He shrugged. “I hope you didn’t have any important plans this weekend--this could take awhile.” He tugged the pillow from her hands and stuck it back on the bed before cupping her face between his palms and kissing her hard.

“We couldn’t possibly...”

Spike smirked as he reached behind himself to grasp her ankles and pull.

She fell onto her back with a squeak. “There’s fifty condoms in that...”

He interrupted with another kiss and she forgot what she was arguing about. Somehow, without letting his tongue leave her mouth for a moment, Spike rearranged them both. When he finally lifted his head to stare at her with lust darkened eyes and flaring nostrils, he was kneeling between her thighs and holding a single foil-wrapped condom. He handed to her.

She wondered what he’d think if she told him that she’d never actually put a condom on a real person before. Her ex-boyfriend had done it himself the few times it was needed. So she was left only with the vague memory of rolling one down a wooden dildo during a health class her senior year of high school while her classmates watched and giggled. Biting her bottom lip, she carefully tore open the wrapper and pulled out the slippery latex circle. She glanced at his erection. It was a lot larger than the wooden thing from health class.

“You’re killing me here, love.”

Buffy looked up sheepishly for a second before reaching over and sliding her fingers down his length to grasp the base.

“Fuck!” He clutched at her arm. “Hold on a mo’.” He exhaled loudly and nodded.”Okay, kitten.”

The tiniest touch of her fingers had him shaking. She quickly followed an impulse she’d never had before and rose up to kiss the velvety soft tip. Her tongue darted out to taste the salty wetness there.

His grip on her arm tightened.

“You taste...good.” She pulled back and quickly slid the latex covering over him before looking up. His jaw was clenched. She lifted her hand and rubbed her thumb over his cheek.

Spike turned, kissing her palm the second before his fingers circled her wrist and pulled her back down. She gasped. Her pounding heart sounded like a rushing water to her ears. No one had ever looked at her with such intensity. The press of his erection against her stomach sent a flutter of nerves into every cell of her being, but she couldn’t look away. His dark lashes swept down and he exhaled with excruciating slowness.
He gripped her thigh tightly and guided one of her legs up around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance.

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck. He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “Perfect,” before sliding in and filling her with a sense of completion she hadn’t realized she was missing. She let her eyes close and concentrated on the sweetness of his kisses on her neck and the nearly painful but incredibly right feeling of being stretched and filled by the joining of their bodies.

She felt the increasing tension in his shoulders and knew he was fighting for control, he was struggling to hold still until she was ready for more. It was so much more than the boy he’d taken her virginity had bothered to do, she had to blink to keep her eyes from filling with tears. She slid her hand down his sweat-slickened back and pressed hard against the right cheek of his ass.

Her hips arched as he started to withdraw, and she quickly wrapped her other leg around his waist, fighting the sense of impending loss. He pressed her hip to the bed and pulled out almost completely before she had a chance to prepare. She yelled out before being immediately filled again, as he plunged even deeper inside. He pulled out again, so slowly she wanted to cry, and then eased her suffering with an equally slow thrust back in.

Buffy tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face to hers. “More.”

“You’re so tight, love. Don’t want to--”

“More.” She hated the thought of him holding back. She wanted to experience everything, every bit of him.

He nodded and pulled out. “Turn over.”

“Wha--”

“Over.” He held her waist in a firm grip and flipped her so she knelt in front of him. “Here. Hold on.” He guided her hands to the headboard before grasping her hips and
thrusting hard and fast back into her.

She screamed. “Oh! Oh God that’s---”

“Fucking heaven, love.”

It should have been embarrassing. She was sure that she’d blush just thinking about it later. But in that one crucial moment, Buffy let herself go. Her back arched on instinct and she pressed her ass back, meeting his thrusts.

Spike gripped her hip tightly with one hand and used the other to push her hair off to the side so he could kiss her shoulder and the back of her neck. “Sexy little girl.” He bit her earlobe lightly as he reached around to cup her breasts. He gave each a squeeze before plucking at her nipples. “You need a nice, big mirror--so I can watch these pretties bounce while I have you like this.

He felt her spasm, clenching his cock even tighter. He started to chuckle but it came out as a groan. “I bet you’re blushing again. Love when you’re blushing.” He ran his tongue over the small silver hoop she wore in her ear.

She was getting close again. Her body was tense and tight beneath him, her mouth open but silent. He wondered what would put her over the edge. He could go faster, but only for a few moments; he was barely holding on as it was. Being surrounded by her was bliss. He’d have to surrender soon.

Spike slid his hand down her abdomen and cupped her sex, spreading his fingers wide to accommodate his cock. He pressed the heel of his hand against her.
Her channel spasmed, squeezing him tightly again and again.

Finally, Spike gave in, followed her to release and collapsed beside her.

“I have to get up.” Still breathing heavily, Spike forced his elbows down and lifted his head. He turned to give her a grin.

Her eyes were wide and she blinked twice before nodding. “I understand.”

Sighing, he brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “Clearly you don’t, love.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “I need a glass of water. I’ll get one for you too.” He pushed up and off the bed without wait for her response.

Someday soon he was going to have to ask why the most gorgeous, passionate woman he’d ever met was so insecure. Someone had made her think that she wasn’t enough. And while the thought of treating that someone to taste of his fist was tempting, Spike had more important things to do.

He found the glasses easily in her tidy cupboards, filled a couple with cold tap water and walked back to the bedroom. Buffy was sitting up, clutching a sheet just below her neck.

“No,” he said shaking his head as he placed one of the glasses on the bedside table.

She frowned, clearly confused. “I don’t...”

Spike took a couple of gulps from his glass and the put it down as well. “Too bloody pretty to be hidden.” He sat down beside her and gently tugged the sheet out of her hands.

She smiled. She blushed too, of course. But, most importantly, she smiled for a second before tipping her head quizzically. “What is this?” Her cheeks brighten. “I mean, I know what this is but--”

“I’m here. Yours, for as long as you want me.” It was a shocking statement, one he’d never made before. He meant it. As surprised as he was to be saying it, Spike was certain that he’d found something truly special and he was ready to fight for it if necessary.

Her only response was an open-mouthed stare. He shrugged, kissed her bottom lip and tried to lighten the mood. “Fifty.” He reached over and pulled a long strip of foil-wrapped condoms from the box. He smirked. “Dear Penthouse: You won’t believe how hot this girl in my biology course is. Or how naughty.”

Giggling, Buffy plucked a small, ruffled pillow off the bed and smacked the side of his head with it.

He dropped the condoms and reached for her. “You’re askin’ for it now, love.”

She ducked and wiggled free. “It might be a long time--that I want you--here.”

He tried not to grin like an idiot and failed, smiling so widely his cheeks hurt. “I’m counting on it.”