Mind swimming with the information spouted from the mouths of mildly drunk party guests, Buffy decided she’d worked hard enough for one night, and grabbed a flute of champagne to keep her company as she ducked outside.
She shivered a bit in the cool night air, smiling warmly at a few people she’s spoken to earlier as she walked down the stairs to the pool area below, seeking solitude.
Something was amiss. She knew that in her gut, and it wasn’t just a little something. From the strange reaction to Angel’s arrival, to Spike’s creepy warning, to the conversation she’d overheard in between two of Angel’s lackeys about “suspicion”, she knew deep down in her bones that there was more going on than just competition between the two men.
It was surprising the amount of people, some extremely high-profile, that had shown up to the party with only a few days notice. Although, she supposed, it could be dangerous to refuse an invitation to this type of affair. Reject a chance to honor Liam Angelus? Heads would roll.
She was lost in her thoughts, but not so lost that she couldn’t sense a body behind her. “I’m getting a lot better at prepping for sneak attacks,” she giggled, spinning around and drinking in the sight of Spike, looking devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo. In her confusion earlier when he’d dragged her away from Angel, she hadn’t taken the time to appreciate how good he looked. She was taking the time now.
“Enjoying yourself, pet?” he asked, fully aware of her appraising eyes.
“Quite a shenanigan,” she smiled, offering him a sip of her drink. He accepted her offer and downed the rest of the glass.
“Rude!” She cried out, smacking him playfully on the arm.
“I paid for it.”
“Well then you can go get me another.”
“I bloody well will not.”
“You will, and you’ll smile while doing it.”
He pouted. “Please don’t make me go back up there? They’re all so dreadfully boring.”
She giggled. “And I’m not boring?”
“You, pet? Hardly.”
“I don’t know, I really like computers. That could be considered boring.”
“You,” Spike repeated, “Could never, ever be boring.”
She giggled again, slightly lightheaded, and moved to lean against the wall in the alcove underneath the stairs. They could hear all the sounds of the party going on above them, but at the same time, were totally isolated from sight and, hopefully, were completely out of mind.
Spike leaned up next to her, and set the champagne flute on the ground. They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, then Buffy said, “So, you didn’t bring a date?” She winced at the awkwardness of her question.
Spike laughed. “No, pet. No date.”
“I would think there’s a line of women just waiting for the chance to go out with you,” Buffy teased.
“Oh, true,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’m quite the catch. Handsome, rich—“
“And so modest—“
“Extremely flexible—“
“That’s an image---“
“Capable of leaping tall buildings in a single bound---“
Buffy collapsed into laughter, and said in between chuckles, “I just had this image of you in a Superman costume. I couldn’t handle it.”
“Oh, making fun of me again are you?” Spike growled, quickly moving and slamming his hands on either side of Buffy’s head, pinning her to the wall with his body. Her laughter instantly stopped. “Bad girl,” he said, his voice low and laced with warning.
“What’re you going to do?” Buffy said, her own voice strong and challenging despite the shaking in her knees. “Punish me?”
There was one moment, one moment filled with possibility and tension and danger and promise, one moment where one of them could have pulled away and changed the path they were on. A path they both knew, for vastly different reasons, could lead to destruction.
Their lips met in a fusing of lust, need, want, and desperation. Spike leaned into the girl, pressing his hardening cock against her soft body as his hands grasped her hips and pulled her even tighter towards him. Buffy’s hands seemed to be everywhere, skimming his sides and touching his face and squeezing his ass and running through his hair. She moaned as he moved one hand up to slide the tiny strap of her dress off her shoulder, releasing her breast to the cool night air.
He tweaked her hardened nipple with his fingers, eliciting another moan directly from her mouth into his, which caused vibrations throughout his entire body. He disengaged their lips, pressing wet and hungry kisses on her neck as he gathered her skirt in his hands in attempts to reach her bare skin. He reached underneath the layers of fabric to find her wearing no underwear, causing him to release a heady groan.
This was wrong, so wrong, which just made it better, Buffy thought as she felt Spike’s hand wrapping around her bare ass. She could hardly breathe as he kissed her fiercely, roughly, kisses she could feel in her head and her heart and her dripping center. With gentle, but firm hands, Spike pulled one of her legs up to wrap around him, and pulled back a bit so he could reach between them to slide one finger inside of her.
His hand, cold from the chilly evening, felt as if it was on fire as he pumped it inside of Buffy. He used his thumb to rub circles around her clit, his brain hardly working as he drowned in the feel of her wetness, the taste of her skin, and the sound of her heavy breathing.
He began to nibble on her ear as he forced another finger into her tight channel and curved them up, and she cried out softly. “Shhh, baby,” he whispered heatedly to her as he rubbed her clit faster, relishing the feel of her cunt tightening around his fingers. “I’ve got you.”
She ground into his hand, and pulled his face back to hers for another searing kiss. She began to quake and quiver around him, and gripped his biceps tightly as she came, panting and mewing into his mouth until she reached her climax and let out a sweet strangled cry.
He needed her to do that again. Needed to feel her shake and shiver and needed to her make those noises, needed to feel her sweet spasms around his cock instead of his fingers. He needed her.
Her hands moved to his belt.
But now was not the time, as they both heard Gunn’s voice up on the balcony, “Buffy? Are you out here?”
“Fuck,” Spike slurred, pulling his hands out of her and letting her skirt fall back into place. Her eyes were glazed, her cheeks pink, and her lips swollen. Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and captured her bottom lip in between his, giving it a nibble and then lightly flicking it with his tongue before pulling away.
“You should go,” he said reluctantly.
“Am I---“
“Here let me just—“ Spike smoothed down her hair and fixed her top. “You’re beautiful, pet.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, then as she heard her name called again, said quickly, “We’ll talk later?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, and watched her go.
Once Spike managed to think enough about baseball and a naked Queen of England to bring down the swelling in his pants, he headed back up the stairs to where the party was winding down. The second he entered the house, he came face to face with Angel.
“Where’ve you been, Spike?” he scolded, Darla hanging around his waist. “Not nice to abandon your guests.”
Spike made an indescribable noise in response.
“We’re heading back to the hotel, but I’m thinking I’ll come back in tomorrow,” Angel said. “We have some things to talk about, don’t we?” At Spike’s nod, a mischievous smile spread across his features. “But I’ll just let you know, old buddy, Darla and I are thinking we’re in need of a nice long vacation. So plan on having us around for awhile.”
With that bombshell dropped, the pair left, and a frustrated rage boiled up inside the man left behind.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
One of my favorite chapters so far...I think you'll be able to tell why! I really am so grateful to all of you who are reading, and especially to those who are reviewing. It puts such a smile on my face to read your kind words!