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Chapter 4

Spike

Her eyes are wide as saucers as she takes in the half dressed twosomes and threesomes flashing in front of us like a series of erotic stills under the strobe lights.

And she’s already caught someone’s attention. Guy sidles up to her, runs his hand up her arm. She jumps and presses herself closer to me. I like this. Little Joan needs a protector tonight. And that’s my job.

“Bugger off,” I tell him. “Not sharing.”

He doesn’t take the hint. Goes for the coat.

I pull her in, one arm clamped around her waist, steering her out of his way. “That’s mine, mate,” I tell him. Piss off.” I give him a flash of my other face just in case he hasn’t got the message.

He leaves.

She looks up at me, still stuck to my side. “You’re very strong,” she says, running her fingers over my bicep. “Do you work out?”

“Kind of,” I tell her. Then her hand’s on my stomach, trailing lightly over my tee-shirt.

“I can feel it,” she says and suddenly she’s not talking about abs any more as her fingers drop to the bulge in my pants.

“I cover her hand with mine and keep it there, feel her fingers flex and grip me, almost making me come right there and then. And the show hasn’t even started yet.

“Come on,” I growl, let’s go sit down.

Her hand slips into mine as we wind our way through the crowds. She’s attracting a lot of attention the way she’s dressed, because we all know what comes in plain, brown wrappers, don’t we? I’ve had a little glimpse, enough to let me know we’re in for one hell of an evening if everything goes to plan. Just got to get sweet little Joan to lose some of her inhibitions. Gonna be fun.

We get a booth on one side of the dance floor, plush velvet bench seats on both sides, table in the middle. I slide along the seat and with a jerk of her wrist I pull her down onto my knee. She lands in a breathless heap, steadying herself with a hand on my shoulder, her bag drops to the floor. I wink and she gives me a quick smile in return, telling me the game’s still on.

First thing I see to is the hair. Damned strange seeing her with hair this colour, but if it helps her to be another person just for tonight, then who am I to complain? Out come the pins one by one as it cascades onto her shoulders, all wild and unruly. She closes her eyes as I thread my hand into it and finger-comb it out for her. Looks so bloody sexy with it like that. Like she’s just got out of bed. And those ridiculous glasses just add to the effect. She’s hitting me from all sides tonight, and that’s what I like about her. I never know what she’s going to do next. Right now she’s moving, sliding her butt back and forth over my painfully hard cock and suddenly I can’t wait any longer.

“I want you,” I tell her letting my hands slide down over the front of the coat, over her breasts. The coat’s still buttoned so I have to guess where her nipples are, but I think I’ve found them. Why else is she moving in time to my thumbs as I graze them, arching herself against me, tipping back her head, and closing her eyes?

I let one hand slide back up, my fingers circling her neck and tip her head back down so her face is looking into mine. “Did you hear what I said?” I ask her. “I want you right now.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she says eyelashes batting. “You have me Randy, I’m right here.”

I pull her even closer. Close enough so that when I talk my lips and tongue wet her ear. “I want to fuck you, here and now. Would you like to do that, Joan?”

Her eyes dart around the room and her cheeks flush in anticipation. I can see that even in the dim light. And I can smell her, how much she wants me. Wants this.

“Here?” she says. “But people might see.”

It’s the weakest of protests, her voice is barely there she’s so worked up about it all. Gotta be careful here. This is the bit where she might just get up and run, lose her nerve. She knows why we’ve come here tonight, but I can see that she wants it and doesn’t want it, both at the same time. And funnily enough I can sense that it’s Joan who wants it more than Buffy so that’s where I go.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you Joan?” I say. And she nods vigorously. I’m still holding her in place and I can see that she isn’t wearing any make-up. Wonder if she’s got any in the bag? “But,” I tell her, “wouldn’t you like to know what it feels like to be bad, just for tonight?”

“I think you’re the devil,” she says.

“Maybe I am,” I reply.

A waiter approaches. Sexy food? Yeah, I’ll go for that. And champagne. Nothing like those little bubbles for getting a girl tipsy. Can just see my sexy little Joan all giggly and legless. God I’m so hard for her I’m gonna burst.

“Tell me what to do,” she says blushing prettily. Is that even a word? It suits her though. Pretty, little innocent thing, despite the glasses. My good little girl’s pretty. But my bad girl’s going to be bloody beautiful.

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Buffy

Have I mentioned that I can’t believe I’m doing this? I can fool myself that it’s Joan and not the slayer, but Buffy’s still there inside. The booth’s kind of private, tucked away in a dark corner, but anyone could see, if they cared to look. And we’re not the only ones. Heck, there are people doing it right there on the dance floor. And I can’t tear my eyes away.

He makes that low growling sound that makes my toes tingle.

“Gonna dance with you later, would you like that?” he says.

“Tell me what to do,” I reply. “Show me how to be bad.”

“My pleasure love,” he says hitching my leg over his lap so I’m sitting astride him. He’s wearing his long, leather coat and it kind of covers us both as he takes my hand and puts it on the front of his jeans.

“You have to tell me exactly what to do,” I say as I just let it lie there flat over the large bulge.

“Open my pants, love.”

I do it slowly, my tongue between my teeth, giving it all my concentration, but looking at him every now and then to see if it meets with his approval. Yeah, he looks happy. Very happy. I twist the buttons open one by one and then I stop.

“Take me out love, and tell me you like what you see.”

I curl my fingers around the silky smoothness and release him, sliding my fingers to the top as I do so, brushing my thumb over the tip. “Like this? I ask.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” he says in his bedroom voice, all the while moving his hips and watching every move my hand makes. “Just do that for a bit.”

“It’s magnificent, Randy,” I say in a suitably awestruck voice. “And that’s not a word I use every day.”

He looks pleased as only a man can when he’s paid the ultimate compliment.

I keep moving my hand and he gets harder and harder, if that’s possible. His hands are clasped around my thighs, inching their way upwards, taking my skirt with it until it’s bunched around my waist. I must have looked a little anxious then because he stops momentarily to pull the coat around me and I’m grateful for that. Doing this with him can almost make me forget we’re in a public place. But not quite.

I sigh softly as his fingers slide back up my legs and he asks me if I’m ready for him.

“I don’t know,” I say, innocently, “am I?”

“Better check then,” he says and gives me that snarky grin of his, fingers delving inside me, making my hips jerk as his thumb brushes my clitoris. They come away all shiny and glistening and he sniffs them appreciatively.

“Oh, you’re ready enough,” he says, and then he takes my hand off his cock and puts it where his have just been.

“Can’t you feel it?” he says. “How ready you are for me? You’re so wet I’m gonna slide right in, nice and deep. Do you want me to do it now, Joan?”

I’m blushing as I nod my consent, I can feel it. My face is hot, god, everything’s hot. I reach up to take off the spectacles because I reckon they’ve done their job for the evening, but he stops me.

“No,” he says putting his hand on mine. “Leave them on. I like them.”

He’s got his hands on my butt now, pulling me in so the tip of his cock is right where it needs to be and my legs are spread wide, a knee on either side of his thighs.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold on,” he whispers as he slowly pushes home, filling me to the hilt, while his hands slide up my back and wrap round me so we’re flush against each other. He locks gazes with me and keeps me there, making me see only him as he starts to move. And there is only him when he does this. He’s all I can see, and all I can feel, all I can smell. Everything else just fades away.

“Can keep going all night love,” he tells me, never breaking his rhythm. “Until you’re begging me to let you come. Just tell me when you want to come, It’s your call.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I tell him holding him even tighter and burying my face into his leather-clad shoulder.

“No you shouldn’t, love. Good girl like you. Do you want me to stop?” he asks, holding me still.

“No,” I manage to gasp out ‘cos my breathing’s going a bit haywire now. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes narrow and his face take on that fierce, possessive look that is so Spike.

“Kiss me,” he orders and then he takes off the spectacles himself without breaking eye contact and throws them down onto the bench.

So I do. I think chaste is the word that gets used for this kind of kiss. The slightest puckering of the lips, the tiniest bit of pressure and ease off before they’ve even registered you’re there.

“Again,” he says.

This time it’s a little harder and I let my tongue sweep over the line where his lips meet. Then I pull back.

“Keep going,” he says yanking me nearer. His hand’s gone back down to my butt now, grabbing the flesh and pushing me as close as he can get me and still be able to move. I know what he wants me to do. Use my slayer muscles. And I almost take pity on him, until I remember that I’m Joan and she doesn’t have any.

I make the next kiss a little deeper angling my head to fit my mouth better to his and nudging his lips apart with my tongue. He sucks hard on it, tugging it into his mouth and every time he pulls on it it sends electric sparks right through me. And I know he can feel them. I can’t help clenching those slayer muscles when he does that.

“Would you like to come now?” he asks still keeping up that slow easy rhythm.

“Want to come, yes,” My eyes are closed now as I concentrate everything down there, where we’re joined.

“Open your eyes and look at me then,” he says. “I want you to see this.”

I open them, and yeah, I love that look he gets on his face when he’s about to come. I love the way his hair looks when it’s all mussed up where my hands have been. I love the intense set of his eyes when he gives me all of his attention. But that’s not what he wants me to see.

“You really shouldn’t get in cars with strange men, Joan,” he tells me, his face very serious now.

“I know,” I say trying to wriggle my hips on him, because he’s stopped moving now.

“People aren’t always what they seem, Joan,” he says, still looking stern

“No kidding,” I reply.

“Are you as innocent as you seem, little Joan?” he says letting his fingers stray to my still buttoned – up coat.

“Can I really trust you? I ask him in return.

“Do you want me to make you come now?” he says.

“Please…”

It happens so fast that I don’t have time to be shocked. I see his face change, and I nod my head to give consent because I know what he’s going to do. I start to come even before his teeth latch on to the side of my neck. Feel it washing over me, the throbbing, the tingles, the heat. And he just holds me really hard against him so that neither of us can move. And when he does that it’s so amazingly intense that it makes me want to scream. He pulls out his fangs and groans out his own release and from somewhere far away I can hear clapping. It gets louder and louder as I come back down to earth until I look round and see them. Our appreciative audience. That I didn’t realise were there. And Spike’s grinning all over his face now in that smug, self satisfied way of his, and I don’t know whether to die of embarrassment, or take a bow.

I bury my head into his shoulder, until he pats me on the back and whispers that they’re gone, and when I look up again it’s just the two of us, still joined at the hip.
I can feel his come trickling out of me and Spike’s got a smear of my blood on his bottom lip and that’s the moment the waiter chooses to arrive with the food.

He arranges it on the table and opens the champagne all without batting an eyelid. Even pours a shot into a glass and gives it to Spike to taste. Then he says “enjoy your meal” and walks calmly away. Completely oblivious to the fact that there are two people having sex right under his nose.

By this time I’m almost hysterical with laughter. Spike joins in with a sound I don’t think I’ve ever heard from him before. Pure, unadulterated joy.

It’s one of those moments I know I’ll always keep close to me. The two of us sitting here holding each other, shaking with laughter, letting go in a way we’ve never done before. It’s almost more intimate an act than the sex. And he’s made me forget everything, even the fact that I’m wearing a surprise for him under the coat.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell him wriggling from his lap and picking up my bag.

He nods, still smiling. Tucks himself away and buttons up his pants. And then very suddenly I’m back on his lap and he’s kissing the life out of me.

“I love you, Buffy,” he says, very quietly before pushing me back onto my feet and giving me a pat on the butt to help me on my way.

“I love you too, Spike.” I say it as I’m walking away. I’m at least halfway across the dance floor when the words leave my lips. But when I look back at him he’s staring at me intently and I know he’s heard me. “It’s true,” I say, then I open the bathroom door, walk in and start on the buttons of my coat.

Almost seems like an anti-climax after what we’ve just done, but I have one more surprise for him this evening. I drop my coat on the floor and pull my make-up and shoes out of the bag.

Time to be Buffy again, I think.

tbc...





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