“Oooh god…oh fuck, Buffy…please…please…yeah…just like that….FUCK…oooooooh!” Spike panted as he spilled himself onto his hand. He sat for a moment on the toilet seat, still grasping his softening cock, before pulling off some tissue and cleaning up. Third time I’ve been in here this morning. She’s killing me. Stupid t-shirt riding up her hips, showing off those little pink panties. Spike noticed himself getting hard again. I don’t think so, mate. I’m getting tired of wasting my stamina on my hand. He stood up, tossed the tissue in the toilet and flushed. As he was pulling up his pants, he noticed that some of his fluid had made its way onto the bath mat. He quickly picked up the mat and tossed it in the hamper. Buffy doesn’t need to see that. Spike returned to his sunlit bedroom and noticed Buffy awake and looking at him. “Good morning, pet, you sleep well?”
“Mmmm….yeah,” Buffy yawned, “Was just surprised to wake up alone.”
“Yeah, I just had to…use the restroom. Hope I didn’t wake you,” Spike rubbed the back of his neck, “tried to be quiet and all.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry, I slept like a rock. I love this bed. I’d sell all my furniture to have a bed like this.”
“Well, don’t do that,” Spike chuckled, “you’re welcome to use my bed anytime you want.” The more frequent, the better. Spike walked over to his closet and began looking through his suits.
Buffy rolled to her side and propped up her head on her hand. “So, what’s on the agenda today, Professor James? Will you be stopping by the pub this evening?” Buffy looked at him with a hopeful expression.
Pulling out a dark blue suit, Spike stated regretfully, “‘Fraid not, pet. I have meetings until 6pm, and I have dinner with the dean of the English department at 7pm. I’m going to have to turn in early tonight. I’m supposed to meet with a student in the morning regarding her application for a summer creative writing program.”
Buffy looked down at the bed and began tracing random patterns on it with her finger. “Maybe tomorrow evening then?” She glanced up with a weak smile that faded upon seeing Spike’s expression.
“Sorry, luv, I promised the Music Theory professor that I would help him judge applicants for the classical music camp that the university hosts in July. We all have last minute things to finish up. I’m lucky I’ll be done after Thursday.” Spike noted the disappoint on Buffy’s face. “You’re welcome here any time, though. You’re free to hang out, and my bed’s always open to you. Don’t forget you have keys.”
“Yeah…I might...hang out.” Buffy sighed and looked down at the bed. Spike…no…Professor James is a man, not a little boy like Riley. Of course he doesn’t have time for you. He has responsibilities, people depending on him. You’re just some girl that works in a bar.
Spike pulled out a pale blue dress shirt and a blue and black checked tie. “I’m going to shower and change, luv. Do you need in there first?”
“What…oh…no, I’m good.” Buffy continued staring at the comforter as Spike exited the room. This is so stupid. What am I doing here? She climbed out of the bed and picked up her clothing from where it was folded atop Spike’s dresser. He’s a professor, a published author, he dated an artist. God, I’ve got to get out of here. She hurriedly pulled on her clothes and left the flat, leaving behind the sound of the running shower.
“Anya’s Glass Shop. You need it blown, come to us!”
“I think you need to work on that one.”
“Hey, Buff! Watched any guys get slaughtered lately?”
“So, you heard.”
“Of course! I’m really sorry, Buffy. I had no idea Angel was such a jackass. He really should think about changing his name…totally misleading.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think he’ll be bothering me anymore. He seems to think I’m a massive slut.”
“Speaking of you being a massive slut, how are things going with the professor?”
“Anya, Spike and I are just friends. He doesn’t see me like that. I think I’m kinda like his little buddy or something.”
“Riiiight, I’m sure. Well, little buddy, are we hitting the club Thursday night? I am in desperate need of a few orgasms.”
“Yeah, sounds good. You should come by the pub between now and then. I saw Xander checking you out the other night.”
“Xander checks out everyone.”
“Yeah, and you sleep with everyone. It’s a match made in heaven.”
“Hmmm…you might be right.” She paused. “Oh, gotta go! Emilio is on the other line!
“Emilio?” Buffy questioned, but Anya had already hung up. That woman is insane.
The next couple of days came and went without incident. Buffy was sad that Spike hadn’t shown up at the pub either night, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to his place either. She was afraid that she would just be setting herself up for disappointment if she attempted to pursue him. So, she had endured nightmares instead and was feeling a bit irritable. It was now 5pm on Thursday and Buffy was supposed to meet the girls at Blue in two hours. She was standing in her tub staring at the faucet trying to will water to come out. Dammit! The pipes must be busted again. Why did I have to pick today to go running in the park? I’m sooo gross. She leaned her head against the shower wall. I bet Spike’s pipes never bust. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed his shower. He said that I could use his place anytime…but that was before you ran out on him and didn’t talk to him for two days. She sighed. Screw it. I’m going over there. He’s probably not even in from school yet. I imagine he’ll stay late, since it’s his last day. She stepped out of the bathtub and began gathering her shower supplies.
Spike walked through the door of his flat marveling at the fact he’d managed to get home before 6pm. I thought Dr. Giles would never shut up. While I do think it would be a splendid idea to have a workshop in the fall combining my 11th Century Literature course with his Medieval History course, I don’t think it’s anything that can’t be discussed in August or at one of the academic banquets over the summer. Spike sat down his briefcase and checked his messages. Damn, still nothing from Buffy. I can’t believe I forgot to get her phone number again. I wonder why she hasn’t tried to contact me. I thought we were getting along quite well, then she just disappears. Perhaps, I’ll grab Oz and check for her at the pub tonight. He wandered into the hallway en route to the bathroom. Well, that’s odd. Why did I close this door? I suppose I have been a little flighty lately what with that girl occupying so much space in my brain. Spike turned the knob and pushed the door open. He was completely shocked to see the object of his thoughts standing in the middle of his bathroom dripping wet…and stark naked.
Buffy was frozen in place with one arm extended towards the towel rack. Spike continued to stare at her unblinking. Buffy…wet…naked. He was mesmerized by the miles of smooth tan skin displayed before him. He followed a drop of water as it dripped from her collar bone, between her small, firm breasts with their hard pink nipples and down her tight abs as it disappeared into the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Not a natural blonde, I see. As Spike raked his eyes over her form, Buffy’s brain kicked back into high gear. “Spike!” she squeaked grabbing a towel and holding it in front of her body. Her voice seemed to break Spike out of his trance.
“Oh, god! Sorry, pet! I’ll just…uh…” he turned around and fumbled with the door, finally managing to get through it and shut it behind him. He stared at the floor, breathing heavily and trying not to focus his thoughts on Buffy’s flawless body or his rigid cock. After a moment, he looked up and took a deep breath.
Fuck it.
Spike did an about-face, placed his hand on the doorknob…and turned.