She slipped her hands between them, resting them on his chest. Looking up at him through her lashes, she smiled slowly.
"Don't count on it." She threw him off with a flick of her wrists, landed him squarely on his back in front of her. She moved over him. "You really think that I'd look at you? That I'd lower myself by even thinking of you in that way? Then you're more deluded than I thought."
He shook his head, clearing his vision quickly enough to see her stepping over him. He whipped his arm up, cracking it against the back of her knee causing her to crumple. She kicked her other leg out and heard the satisfying crunch of his jaw. Scrabbling forwards, she tried to stand but his hands gripped her ankle and yanked her backwards and onto his lap. "Come on love, your hardly even trying." His eyes were dancing. He could smell her now, her arousal seeping through the denim of her jeans as she tried to squirm from his grasp. She twisted to face him trying to unlock her wrists from his grip. He laughed as she bucked harder.
"Did someone forget to tell you that cave-man is out this year?" She grunted, raising herself up to headbutt him squarely in the nose. He roared, releasing her automatically as his hands flew to his aching face. She flipped deftly from flat on her back into her fighting stance. "Maybe you should have stuck with your skank after all - at least she was a sure thing."
He rose to his knees, assessing her carefully. He tilted his head smelling the air, she was on fire now. Her scent was getting stronger. Buffy paused, his lack of retaliation confusing her. Instead, he was just looking up at her with an expression she couldn't read. His eyes were fixed on her intently. Then his gaze started sliding. Her neck… to her breasts... to her stomach... to her thighs... Her breathing sped up a little in spite of the litany of curses she was stringing together in her mind. Damned vampire! She brought her fist back but he caught it before it landed. Holding her hand, he used it to help him stand.
"Now, now, pet." She was breathing hard now. Partly because she hated him so much she could dust him right now and partly because the way he was looking at her was making her begin to forget why she hated him so much. She looked down at his hand still holding hers. He stroked his thumb gently along the inside of her wrist. "See, that's better." He raised his other hand, pushing her hair from her face and behind her ear. God, how he loved her hair.
"Look Spike, I don't know where you get off..." She stumbled backwards slightly, dropping her hand back to her side.
"Don't worry love, I can show you." He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into him, his lips slanting over hers. She tensed immediately as he outlined the contours of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He smiled against her, wedging his knee between her thighs. She gasped… his tongue taking advantage as it slipped into her mouth. Slowly, he moved his thigh back and forth against her crotch.
She willed herself to not respond, telling herself that the greatest revenge she could exact was to show him that he didn't do anything for her. But his tongue tasted so good and the pressure between her legs was delicious... and it was beginning to build. She let out a whimper and unconsciously, thrusted her hips in rhythm with his leg. And then it was gone... her eyes flickered open, dazed. Her arms automatically reached out as she fought to stay upright. He laughed now, a low chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. In one fluid movement, he had scooped her up and began marching across the graveyard.
"What are you...?" She began to protest.
"Hush, gonna move this somewhere more comfortable." He held her tighter incase she tried to jump but she rested her head on his shoulder and let out a little sigh. Surprised, he kissed the top of her head and wound his way through the tombstones towards his crypt.
He placed her back on her feet but he remained stood in front of the door. No way was he going to let her get away now. Any minute he was expecting her to let fly with the fists…and then with the bolting. He couldn’t spend another night yearning like some lovesick kid. He couldn’t quite read her expression but she wasn’t running. Yet.
“What’s up pet, you’ve been in my crypt before?” She was stood where he had left her, looking curiously round the room.
“I know – I just don’t ever remember it feeling so…”
“Warm? I know. Pinched myself a heater. I may be cold blooded but I still shiver in sub-zero temperatures.” He patted down his pockets, cursing when he remembered he was out of fags. Apart from the new pack on the table. He looked past her, weighing up whether it was safe to move. He didn’t want her legging it when his back was turned.
“Don’t worry, I’m planning on staying. And I was going to say cosy – it just seems… comfortable.” She smiled at him wryly, passing him the packet of cigarettes.
“I like to be accommodating.” He winked playfully as he lit up. Slowly, she moved around the room, examining everything.
He decided that she was telling the truth, that she was planning on staying, a while at least. The fever of lust was simmering in the air but he was intrigued by her perusal of his things. He watched from his armchair, amused, as she explored his fridge, ran her hands over the makeshift wall hangings and sniffed at some candles. “Scented?”
“Jasmine. Keeps the bugs out.”
“Who’d have thunk it, William the Bloody with jasmine scented candles.” She laughed then uproariously and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. Their eyes caught and they were silent again.
“I guess I haven’t taken the time to know you. Really, I mean.” She had tilted her head, lost in thought as she gazed at him.
He bit back the sarcasm and settled for shaking his head slowly. The fear of frightening her by saying something out of turn was too much.
She had never seen him laugh before. Not properly. She studied him as he cast his eyes downward as he took another drag from his cigarette. Somehow, he even made smoking look sexy. On him, it even smelt sexy. Tobacco, whisky and another scent she couldn’t quite place. All that came to mind was – masculine. A blush rose from her neck to her cheeks as she caught herself before those thoughts went any further. Her mind flashed back to the cemetery. God, she had been kissing him not five minutes ago, grinding against him like a shameless wanton… She was as bad as that ho from the Bronze. Cue inward eyeroll and much stern lecturing.
He dropped his cigarette, stubbing it out with his boot. He looked up at her through his lashes, almost like he was checking she was really there.
She had never seen him like this before. For one thing, he was quiet. He was usually more forthcoming with the dialogue. But more than that, he was vulnerable. In that one moment, she realised exactly how much what she said next would effect their entire relationship. Rejection, sarcasm, running away… all on the list of things she shouldn’t do right now if she ever wanted him to speak to her again. His eyes were hooked on her, this time not sliding up and down her body but his gaze firmly pinning hers. Blue meets green, ice meets fire. Both uncertain. The thing is, she did want him to speak to her again. One thing the night had taught her was that there was a lot more to Spike than she had ever thought possible. It went beyond the bleach, the accent and the bizarre animal attraction they seemed to have going on. In spite of all her reservations and the fear rolling around in her gut, she really wanted to find out what else lay behind his carefully constructed persona.
“About before… in the graveyard…” She swallowed, trying to select her words carefully. Her eyes flitted around the crypt, trying to look anywhere but at him as fought to form a coherent sentence. “What I’m saying is…”
His eyes hardened as the sentence hung unfinished in the air.
“No, no – it’s…” Dammit. She’d seen him closing off right in front of her and now her words were stuck in the back of her throat. She’d forgot to add babbling to her list of things not to do. He was mistaking her lack of vocabulary as a brush off.
“Don’t fret love, I know what you’re going to say. Big mistake right? Forget it should we?” He stood. His fists were clenching at his sides as he battled to maintain his control. “Yeah, I get it. It’s all bloody clear now.” His voice cracked as he spun away from her. He wouldn’t let her see him like this, see that he cared about what she thought of him.
“Spike, that’s not what I was going to say. I’m sorry for…”
“Oh, its pity time now is it? You’re sorry you led me on, you’re sorry that you could never feel anything for me and you’re sorry that you’ve bloody stepped on my bloody heart again. Spare me, will you? Just get out.”
The anger rolled across the crypt like an invisible wave. He remained facing away from her as she opened the door. “I really am sorry, Spike.”
He snorted.
She whispered, her throat hoarse from the strain of holding back her tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to tell you how I feel.”
He whirled around then, tears streaming down his face. But she was gone.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for the lovely reviews for my first chapter. I hope the second part does not disappoint! Much angst here, still only a 15 at the minute but don't worry, it will get to NC-17 eventually!!