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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to Willow Trees!
Spike thought the second time had gone smoother than the first; no awkward pauses, no discussion of kilts. Buffy hadn't let him inside, but he'd made her scream and she'd made him moan. Afterward she'd asked Spike another question, his birthday.

The third time things had gotten a little sticky again, but for different reasons. Instead of acting too much like strangers, they’d started acting too much like friends.
They’d brought each other off in the usual way and Spike hadn't wanted to seem ungrateful for her, but he was aching to fuck her. He didn’t say that to her, not wanting to jinx the tenuous spell that had brought Buffy into his orbit. Instead, he tried to work subtly with massage oil. Spike was rubbing her back in hopes that she'd relax enough to let him go further. She had, but not in the direction he'd been wanting.

"How old were you when you lost your virginity?" Buffy asked, her cheek pillowed on the crook of her arm.
Spike knelt with her beneath him, trying not to poke her with his erection. He rolled his thumbs on her slick shoulders.
"You sure you want to know, pet?" he asked
"Definitely," she muttered.
"I was fifteen. What about you?"
"Seventeen, on my birthday, actually," Buffy said.
"What did you think of your present?" Spike asked with a smirk.
"The sex was kinda o.k., and then nine months later I had Dawn, so it was like Clinique bonus time, except instead of a free lipstick I got to go into labor on the night of my senior prom," Buffy said.
He fanned his hands out over the globes of her ass, following the curve to the scoop of her waist. Buffy sighed.
“Were you at the prom?”
“God no,” she said with a laugh. “ I wasn’t one of those in-denial girls. By that time I’d already gotten my G.E.D. and I had in all my applications to nursing school. My mom and I came up with a plan when I decided to keep the baby. It’s weird thinking about it now, knowing her, that there was ever a moment where I thought about not having Dawn, but I was young,” she said. She sounded embarrassed, like he’d think she was somehow a bad mother.
“Naturally, love. So what happened to the bloke?” Spike asked, pressing his fingertips into a stubborn knot in her shoulder.
“He left me when I found out I was pregnant, tried to say it couldn’t possibly be his because he couldn’t have children. He made me get a paternity test. Then he went to college, got a football scholarship at Penn State where he tore out his knee freshman year. He owns a used car lot in Philadelphia, sends me a check every month. Once in awhile he makes a big noise about being a part of Dawn’s life, but it never goes beyond noise,” Buffy said
The knot tightened under his fingers, and Spike realized he was only going to hurt her if he kept pushing on it.
“Onto your back, love,” he said.
She looked across her shoulder at him, sloe-eyed.
“What no more massage-y?”
“I was just going to do the front,” Spike said, smiling sweetly at her.
“Do I look like I’m carrying a lot of tension in my boobs or something?”
“Trust me, you’ll love it,” he said. She gave him a half smile and turned over, her way of showing she did trust him. He suddenly felt guilty about his transparent seduction plot. He coasted his fingers along the flare of her rib cage, applying just enough pressure so it wouldn't feel ticklish. She inhaled deeply, making her breasts bounce in a lovely way. Buffy stared up at him until he looked away from her body and met her eyes.
"What about you? Your first?" she asked.
He put his palms on her hips, running his thumbs along the bones jutting out on either side. He pressed into the small of her back, tipping her pelvis forward. Spike could hear her back crack and she let out an “oh.”
“Stop distracting me with your magic fingers routine,” she said.
He let go of Buffy and lied down beside her.
"She was older, maybe thirty-five. Her name was Cecily. It's weird, I work with children who are the age I was then, they look like pink little infants to me, but she saw something else, I 'spose," he said, wishing that expression of concern hadn't washed over Buffy's face.
"So she took advantage of you?"
Buffy looked like an angry parent, which meant she was seeing him as a confused, 15-year-old boy. It galled him.
"Maybe, but it didn't feel like it at the time. The thing about me and Cecily, I was sort of an odd kid growing up and I was glad for her. My mother was a punk, and we were always living in a squat, getting kicked out of places. I didn’t hang out with people my own age. She’d let me stay at her flat. The whole of it was wrong, Cecily was wrong to do it, but I still care for her. She was a friend when I needed it, and I wanted her, wanted to do everything she showed me," Spike said.
Buffy touched his cheek.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said.
“I’m not, and I’m not sorry that wanker was too much of coward to take care of you and Dawn. I’m too selfish to be sorry for anything that brought you to me,” he said.
Buffy pressed her mouth to his, then she was on top of him, her tongue suddenly fierce and probing. She was straddling him and her breath was coming far too fast. Spike was gasping and desperate to be inside of her. He gripped her hips and tried to lead her, but she pulled away and fell onto the floor, tangling the sheets around her legs.
Spike looked over the edge of the bed.
“You alright, love?” he asked. She was sprawled on the carpet, the white sheets covering nothing but her knees. Spike smiled at her and extended his hand. Buffy ignored both his expression and his proffered help.
“Don’t be here when I come out of the bathroom,” she said, looking at the fabric suspended between her legs.
“What and make all this a little too real for you? Never dream of it,” he said.
He’d stood up and gathered his clothes quickly without casting another glance toward her as she untangled herself from the bedding. He didn’t even turn to her when he heard the bathroom door slam.
That had been a week ago. Now he was sitting in the hotel bar, having nursed his whiskey for a good half hour. She probably wasn’t coming, he’s scared her away, he thought. God, he wished he had a cigarette. Spike was about to leave when he saw Buffy standing by the front desk in a pair of stretchy, black pants, trainers and a blue, zip-up hoodie. He bolted toward her, then realizing what he was doing, slowed his pace. He kept himself from shouting her name.
She turned and smiled when she saw him, one of those blinding smiles that made his palms tingle. Spike caught Buffy's elbow.
"I already got a room," he said into her ear.
"I can't stay long, they think I'm at the gym Pilating," she said, shame dampening that sunny grin.
"We'll have to start in the lift," he said.
Buffy giggled until the doors slid shut and then Spike picked her up, leaning her against the wall of the elevator. Buffy was kissing him and tearing at his shirt. Unfortunately, the room was only on the second floor.
When the doors parted, a middle-aged man in a neat suit jacket was chatting into a cell phone. They calmly disentangled, both panting wildly. The business traveler raised a single eyebrow, but otherwise continued with his conversation unchecked, stepping in as they walked out.
They found the room and resumed kissing, shedding clothes with impatient fingers. She'd managed to get his shirt off and had his pants down. After that first time, he'd worn shoes he could slip out of easily. Her sneakers, jacket and top were history.
She pulled away to tug off her pants, when he noticed the lacy bra she was wearing. It was white with a fragile scallop of baby blue on the edge. Instead of making the facade complete by strapping on a sports bra, Buffy had worn fancy lingerie for him. It even matched her pretty, little knickers.
The sight of her carefully chosen underwear slowed everything down. When she returned for more kisses, they'd become unhurried and tender. Buffy twisted her arm around to unhook the bra, but he stayed her hand.
"Leave it," he said.
She cocked her head and smiled.
"I was thinking of you when I bought it," she said, the confession causing her color to rise.
Spike picked her up and set her on the bed. He knelt in front of Buffy between her dangling legs. He rasped his tongue over her nipples through the bumpy fabric of the bra. He licked the top of her breasts plumped up by the underwire, while his hands teased the edge of her panties. Spike slipped two fingers inside her and watched the pleasure expand on her face. He pumped in and out, just gazing at her.
"Can I have your mouth, too?" she asked.
He kissed her lips and then dipped down, nestling against her cunt, freeing her with his mouth and his fingers until Buffy was a quaking puddle.
Spike waited until her body stopped pulsing and then joined her on the bed. She curled up in his lap like a contented cat and then wrapped one, small hand around his cock. She gave the smooth head a gentle lick.
“You know, I think about exactly this all day long,” she said.
“Exactly what?”
“This,” she said, and then took the length of him into her mouth, until her lips touched her balled fist.
“You are a naughty girl,” he sighed.
She moved up and down, her tongue doing secret, perfect things along his shaft, before she stopped.
“I think since I’m so naughty, I deserve a spanking,” she said, shyly.
A grin broke out on Spike’s face.
“Really?”
She nodded, as though too embarrassed to ask twice. Buffy arched her back, tilting her ass in the air as invitation. Spike gave her a tentative slap, and she moaned. She swooped down on his cock and he landed sharp stings on her bottom. After awhile, her skin bore his handprints, but she didn’t tell him to stop. He spilled into her mouth and she drank him again. While the aftershocks were bouncing through his body, he looked down at her huddled in his lap. He stroked her flossy hair.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“No more than I wanted,” she said.
She retreated from him and got up. Instead of going straight to the bathroom to get dressed, she picked up his jeans, took his cell phone out of his pocket and started playing with the buttons. Then she lobbed it on the bed.
"My number is in your phone now under B. Now if I'm late or something, you can reach me," she said.
"What about you, love, you want my number?"
"I'll have it when you call me," she said.
Spike wondered if she was putting him up to a test and if he'd pass. Buffy snatched her scattered clothes and stole into the bathroom. Spike dressed leisurely. As he turned the handle of the hotel room door, she stuck her head out of the bathroom.
"Spike, how many women have you been with?" she asked. Her hair was already up in a ponytail.
"Three."
"Who was the third one?" she asked.
"You."
"Do you really think it counts, I mean we haven't done the rest," she asked.
"It counts to me," he said, then pushed the door open.
"Spike."
He halted, half in, half out.
"Three, including you," Buffy said, then withdrew to finish composing herself.


Chapter End Notes:
Fun author fact:
When I lost my virginity my roommate walked in and left the door of our dorm room open when she left. Years later, when she lost her virginity, her roommate walked in on her. No word on whether or not the curse continued.



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