He held on to her for 20 more minutes. Between heated kisses and wandering hands, she could hardly draw a breath, let alone talk. Finally, he came up for air and she managed to convince him the others were waiting. And they were waiting all right. All of them with knowing smirks on their faces. Buffy’s ears started to burn, since there was no more space for blushing left on her face.
Spike took pity on the girl, she was almost blue in the face and kept herself a step behind him. “Oi! You wankers, stop ogling the girl!”
Faith masked a laugh with a cough. The situation was hilarious, really. Her brother’s hair was spiked all the way upwards, most likely by Buffy’s fingers. His eyes were glowing and she was sure he didn’t realize he was holding on to Buffy’s hand. She was even more disheveled than Spike. The curls on her hair where now mussed and less defined, her lips were swollen and reddish, but it was the glowing hickey on the side of her neck that was the cherry on top of Faith’s sundae.
“Well, that’s a nice friend you have there Buffy.” Spike narrowed his eyes at his sister, trying to figure out what she was trying to pull. Buffy looked at her, confused, head titled to the side. Faith smirked at her, eyes glowing with mischief.
“Mr. Hickey? On your neck?” Faith pointed and immediately Buffy slapped a hand on the side of her neck, blushing to the roots of her hair while sending Spike a dirty look. The rest of the gang laughed and the petite girl felt like digging a hole and throwing herself in it. “Enough, you fuckers! So we kissed, wot’s the big deal? Shut your damn gobs about it!” Because everyone knew how Spike could get once he was in a mood, they quickly hid their smirks and did their best to be charming once he started to introduce them to Buffy.
Spike took his time pointing everyone out and telling her their part on the band. To make her less uncomfortable, he started telling tales about those people he knew since forever (it seemed). The band dynamics was pretty simple: Spike was the main vocalist; Faith played the guitar, Xander the drums and Angel the bass. Anya, Xander’s fiancée, designed their clothes and Drusilla was the band manager.
They ate and talked for a while and it wasn’t long before Buffy was completely comfortable and laughing along with silly anecdotes, lulled by the different types of accent. Angel talked funny, drawling the words out in the end, almost singing. Spike and Faith added the soft british sounds. It seemed only Anya and she had the old American way of speaking. She was sited next to Spike, feet curled underneath her bottom. He had his left arm thrown casually on the back of the couch, the tip of his fingers curling against her hair ever so softly.
“So, I guess you should sing us something, then?” Angel pointed out.
“Choose your weapon, luv.” Spike smirked at her, pointing towards the instruments pilled up on a corner. Buffy uncurled herself from the couch and after pondering for a moment, chose a black wood, acoustic guitar. Sitting back down next to Spike, she fiddled with the pegs for a few minutes, trying to get the strings just right.
“You know, it’s been a while
That I wanted to talk to you about
Those things I’ve been carrying,
Inside my chest.
I miss you,
I don’t know if that’s the right word anyway
Cause I still remember you every day
I won’t give you gold
Cause it doesn’t get into heaven
And none of the richness of the world
I won’t bring you flowers
Cause they dry up to fast
I bring you these lyrics, simple
My heart’s words,
But that are sure to last.”
All the hairs in Spike’s arms rose into goose bumps. She sang as if she was whispering into a lover’s ear while he thrust leisurely in her. He smiled. He was dying to know if she would do that to him when he took her to bed. Because Spike had no doubt in his mind that he would have her, eventually. And that she would love every single minute of it.
From the other couch, Faith watched her brother’s eyes getting slightly glassy as a naughty smirk crossed his face. She elbowed Angel’s side and cocked her chin forward. Her husband snorted and titled his head to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. “I think our little Spikey is hooked.” Faith shuddered, her own eyes going glassy as Angel’s hand trailed up and down her back on a soothing yet arousing caress. Every time he touched her like that, it felt like the first time. “Yes, I think so too. But I don’t want him screwing with the girl’s mind and then leaving us without a lyricist again.” Angel snorted. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Applauses sounded on the room when Buffy finished her song. Blushing, she put the guitar on the floor next to her leg and smiled crookedly at Faith who had her two middle fingers in her mouth and was whistling madly. Spike brushed the tip of his fingers ever so softly on her shoulder and leant forward to whisper on her ear.
“Looks like you’re hired, luv.”
********
“GOD DAMNIT!” Spike hurled his water bottle in rage as he missed his cue for the tenth time on rehearsal that evening. It had been close to two months since Buffy was with them and he was nowhere near getting her to bed. There was action. A lot of it. He grabbed her every opportunity he got but every time they were getting somewhere, something or someone interrupted them. And the unfulfilled sexual tension was driving him mad. All he could think about was her. He wanted to taste and nibble and eat her whole. He wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t stand on her own two legs. And he wanted to unwrap her like a present, find out everything there was to know about her, he wanted to make her moan, make her laugh, make her his.
That caused him to daydream and miss his cues and become cranky as hell.
“Again!” He muttered, ignoring the knowing looks his band companions were sending in his direction. They were trying to rehearse the first song Buffy and Spike had managed to put together. She had presented him with the lyrics and he had to work up a melody to go with it. They sung together and it looked like it was going to be a hit. If he could get his bloody cues right, that was. Xander counted the beat with his drumsticks and gave the entry to the song. Angel entered with the bass slowly, just following the tapping of the drums and then… Spike started too late. Again.
“BLOODY FUCKING HELL!!” He roared and started yanking his hair out of frustration.
“Oookay… Five minutes, everyone!” Faith yelled, placing her guitar on the floor and going towards the door. Angel and Xander followed quickly, glad to be out of the room and away from Spike’s tantrum. They were happily arranging to get some food, torn between pizza and Chinese when they left the room, shutting the door. Buffy was sited on a stool, looking dumbfounded. Spike still had his head on his hands, cursing occasionally.
“Spike, are you okay?”
She gasped when he raised his head, his blue eyes dark, almost grey and dangerous. He slid off the stool like a snake, and like a mouse about to be eaten, Buffy froze on her seat.
“You must be finding all of this hilarious aren’t you?”
“Of course not! I…”
He smashed his mouth down on hers, one hand grabbing her ponytail to keep her head in place and the other almost bruising the skin of her hip. He felt like a furnace, hot and solid against her body. Her head was titled back almost uncomfortably, with him hovering so close to her, pushing her back. Her hands flailed around for some time as she debated where to place them, finally settling down on the skin of his biceps, fingertips touching the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Spike was almost vibrating in place with all the need he had inside of him, consuming, encompassing that had no release. She had him jacking off more than he had when he was a teenager and that said a lot about how much he wanted to get her into his bed.
“Spike, I… (gasp)… Wait, I (moan)…”
Buffy murmured while he worked on her neck with his lips, nibbling and sucking. His hands made their way under her t-shirt, fingers fumbling with the clasp of her bra. It gave easily and a lovely breast spilled onto his hand. He gave the left nipple a delicious pinch, swallowing her moan on another breath-taking kiss. Unwilling to be interrupted again, Spike placed both hands on her bottom and lifted her up, carrying both of them blindly towards the bathroom. Without lifting his mouth from her skin, managed to kick the door shut and lock it. He debated for a moment; brain fogged from lack of blood, on placing her on the sink but going against it, sat down on top of the toilet’s lid, Buffy on his lap, a leg on each side of his waist.
“Good God, luv. You’re driving me insane… All I think about is you. I’m drowning Summers, I’m drowning…” Spike whispered hotly on her ear. Buffy shivered, all but consumed by arousal now. Somehow he had divested her of her t-shirt and the skirt she wore (thank god!) was bunched up all the way to the bottom of her breasts. He dipped a hand inside her panties, delighted in the way she mewled when he gave her clit an impatient pinch. His other hand made quick work on his zipper, pulling his aching erection out.
“Touch me, kitten… Please…”
Buffy’s eyes refused to open. A delicious orgasm was slowly crawling it’s way into her belly. Blindly, she lowered her hand between their bodies and grasped him by the base. Instead of touching him, like Spike wanted her to, Buffy forced her rolling eyes to open and tried to focus on his, pulling her body upwards. His hand followed, fingers buried deeply inside her. Eyes still locked with his, Buffy used her free hand to remove his from her underwear and place it on her bottom instead. She pushed her underwear to the side and impaled herself on his throbbing erection before he could fully understand what she was planning to do.
Spike eyes rolled inside his head and he let out a loud, agonizing moan. She was hot and dripping and tight. He panted, trying to keep from coming right there. His balls were already tight against his body and if she moved, he wouldn’t last. Clasping her shoulder, Spike kept her in place. Buffy rocked slowly from side to side, barely brushing her swollen clit against his curls.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” She panted in his ear, already feeling it, looming over the horizon. She would last three thrusts, five tops. Spike bucked his hips once, twice and… someone knocked on the door.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hey you guys! I just wanted to offer a quick explanation to those of you who got a little surprised about the sudden Spike and Buffy action on Chapter 3. When I started the story, I had a plot already formed in my mind and a couple of late chapters already written and I intended to portrait their relationship slowly, kind of friends going towards more… Then I started writing the first chapters and I realized two things: That the Spike I want to portrait in this story is impulsive and a ‘take what I want’ type of guy. And also that, to fit the story with the chapters I’ve already written, I need them to engage in a relationship that has love and passion but at the same time, that they don’t know each other that well. Because then I can throw the doubt I need in their relationship to make Spike’s impulsive side get him to make a big mistake and then get to those 3 final chapters that are waiting on my desktop. J Thanks a lot to all of you! Please stay with me!!! Hugs! :) Also, I'm sorry I took so long to update. By little girl's got the chickenpox.
Chapter End Notes:
Song: "Simple verses" by Chimarruts