Chapter Twenty-Three: Escape
Spike awoke, a headache pounding in his scull. The only comfort was Buffy’s body at his side. He was able to dismiss the pain, as his eyes traveled up and down her body. She still wore her party clothes; the only difference was her tousled hair, and bare feet.
He leaned in, his lips descending on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and a smile crossed her face.
“Hey sleepy head.” Spike cooed.
“Hey barf breath.” Buffy quipped.
“Was I really that bad?” He questioned worriedly.
“How’s the hangover?” She replied.
“Bugger…I need a shower.”
“I need to get home…” Buffy sat up with a groan and stretched.
“Stay for a bit.” Spike reached out, and took Buffy’s hand, but she stood quickly.
“It’s not a good idea. Your parents.” She replied.
“They’re in New York for the week.” She still shook her head, no. “Why not, Buffy? I know you want to be with me. I know you told Riley the truth about how you feel for me. Why won’t you tell me?” He stood beside her, his hand under her chin, forcing her to look in his eyes.
“I-I…I’m not ready.” She stepped back, and grabbed her boots and purse from the floor.
“There she goes, the marathon girl.” Spike muttered as she ran away.
*
She couldn’t believe her eyes. Spike had actually made it to her house for lawn sessions. She would have thought he’d call in.
Joyce came to her side at the window, and it was obvious of the emotions raging within her daughter. “It was nice of you to take care of him last night.”
“Uh huh.” Buffy replied.
“He really is a good guy, Buffy.” Joyce was being a mother, encouraging the love.
“Uh huh.” Buffy watched, as Spike removed his shirt.
“And very well muscled.”
“Uh huh.” Buffy felt drool approach.
With a small smile, Joyce left her daughter to secretly fawn over the young boy.
“Buffy!” Dawn’s yell pierced through Buffy’s haze.
“What?” She turned to the thin brunette.
“Spike asked me to ask you if you could get him a glass of water.” Dawn replied.
“Why can’t you get it for him?” Buffy asked.
Dawn shrugged. “He specifically asked for you.”
*
Buffy stood out on the porch and watched Spike wipe the sweat on his forehead off with his forearm, with a glass of water in her hands. The weather was actually cool, winter approaching in Sunnydale.
Spike felt her eyes on him, watching him carefully. “You just going to stand there or give me my drink?”
“Since when was I ever your slave?” Buffy questioned.
“I love it when you’re feisty.” He approached her, a smile on his face.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Here we go.” She muttered.
“Don’t you understand that you won’t escape me? I’m in your veins, Summers.”
“You woke up, awfully cocky today.” She smiled.
“What can I say? You get to me in more way than one.” He winked.
“Oh really? And how am I getting to you today?” Buffy asked.
“You’re making me hot.” He saw her eyes wash over his torso, and stop at the bulge in his pants. It always rose for her.
“Let me help you out with that.” Buffy poured the water over his head, unable to let it slide.
He hissed at the cold of the water, and smiled menacingly. “You’re going to pay for that, pet.” He warned.
“Too bad it won’t be today.” Before he could speak another word, Buffy slipped inside the house. With a growl of frustration, Spike turned to finish his yard work.
Buffy leaned against the door, breathing a sigh of frustration. ‘Next time I’m alone with him, I won’t be able to escape.’
[Reviews - 69]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 2909 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +