“Hey, Xander. Do you think you could call the guys and tell them to come to my house at 7 instead of 6:30? Mom just called to say she was going to be late, which means dinner will be a little later, which means 7 would be better for all here at the Summers residence.” Buffy doodled on a notepad while waiting for his response. Her doodles were always of the same thing—Spike Summerfield—but it was carefully coded to look like daisies and pointy blades of grass. She had created several masterpieces of this code, no one knowing she was actually telling the world about her obsession for the platinum blonde.
“No prob, Buff. Do you need me to call the Willow and Anya?” Xander asked.
“Well, I already told Willow, and I figure you can tell Anya since you’re picking her up. That cool?” Buffy asked, putting the finishing touches on a daisy that now had bloodied spears protruding from its fuzzy center.
“I am always cool, confident, and collected. I am your man for messages. And now, I am going to make those calls. See you in a bit.”
“Later,” Buffy said and hung up the phone. She glanced at the design that now covered a full sheet of paper—she had gotten pretty quick with these sketches out of so much practice—and sighed. Might as well clean my room before Mom gets home. She trudged up the stairs and pretended not to hear Dawn calling her name.
Entering her room, she put down her stuff and contemplated what to do first. She blasted her Depeche Mode, the dark music matching her mood, and swayed to the pulsing beat while she put her clothes away. Gathering piles to put into the laundry hamper, she took off her sweatshirt with its mustard stain and slid around the room in her favorite velvet cami. Buffy was a big fan of lingerie—something about the softness against her skin, the secret that only she knew made her spend most of her allowance on lacy thongs, velvet camis, black sheer bras, leopard tangas…if Victoria had a secret, Buffy had to have two. She especially liked this velvet cami because of the sultry black velvet that was edged with delicate lace. It made her feel like she had power but still embraced her femininity. With that combination on her body, she danced sexily, allowing the music to rest its strong hands on her hips and lead her movements. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, totally letting go of herself and throwing her body into the waves of sound.
***
Dawn snickered as peeked in on Buffy dancing like a stripper. The first time Dawn had called her sister, it was just to annoy her. The second time was to say that Mom wasn’t going to be home till way later, so they were allowed to get pizza. The third time was to tell her that Xander had called and had not been able to get in touch with Spike in time. Serves her right for not listening to me when I call her name. I hope he sees what a dork she is. Dawn slowly crept away, leaving the door slightly ajar.
***
Buffy liked pretending that she was dancing with Spike, that it was his hands on her hips, his body she was leaning into, his lips that were close to her neck. She continued to move around the room, lost to the world and to time—knowing nothing but the imaginary sweetness of the sensuous dance.
***
When the doorbell rang, Dawn bounded down the stairs to get it, hoping that it was Spike—not only to embarrass Buffy but also to flirt shamelessly with the hottie that had stupidly become friends with her sister.
“Hey Dawn, how’s middle school treating you?” Spike entered the house and gave Dawn a welcoming smile—he had always liked the little girl.
“Oh, you know. Boys are stupid and classes are retarded. The same old.” Dawn tried to act nonchalantly, swinging her hair behind her in an attempt to attract his attention. Unfortunately, Spike was distracted by the lack of other people in the house.
“Where are the rest of the Scoobies? Don’t tell me I’m the first one here, even before Red?” Spike asked in astonishment.
“Looks like. Buffy’s in her room. Go ahead up.” Dawn tried to hide her smirk and followed Spike up the stairs. Ooh, nice ass. How does Buffy get to hang out with all these hotties? Dawn went into her room to ponder this and other serious issues of the world.
***
Spike peeked into the room and knocked softly before entering. The music was thumping, and he wasn’t sure if anyone was there when his mouth dropped. There was Buffy, moving sexily to the music in a tight, black top that hugged her breasts. Spike had been accustomed to seeing Buffy in sweatshirts and t-shirts, so he was a bit flummoxed. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed her prettiness—in fact, he often did so with much chagrin, wishing he wasn’t so attracted to her golden looks—but he had never been able to see how much she had been hiding. The cami hit a little above the waist, showing a sliver of skin above her snug jeans. As she continued to move her arms above her head, swaying in a way that made him ache, that sliver became larger, showing him her taut stomach and teasing him with her smooth skin. She slowly turned, her breasts peeking out of her top like luscious scoops of ice cream; his mouth began to water and his cock was now urgently pressing against his jeans.
The song came to and end, as did her dance; Buffy opened her eyes, saw Spike staring, and froze.
“What the hell are you doing in my room?” Buffy spat out, trying to cover her total nervousness and embarrassment in being caught dancing. She winced at the sharp tone in her voice, but she didn’t want to let on how flustered his presence made her feel.
Spike was quickly jolted out of his haze by her harsh tone. “Why do you think I’m here? Study group tonight, innit. What, you too wrapped up in dancing alone that you forgot about real people?” He knew his words were cruel, but it was his natural defense to lash out when he felt he was being attacked.
“I didn’t forget, but I’m not stupid like you, either. 7 –you idiot, not 6:30.” Buffy tried not to let her hurt at his insinuation of her solo dancing affect her, not to mention the fact that she was only wearing a cami in front of her crush.
“What? You said 6:30—what with all the annoyed rolling of eyes and mean talk to your sister, you must have lost a few brain cells.”
“Xander was supposed to call you. And anyway, don’t you knock?” She glared at him, trying to calm her heartbeat and pretend like her nipples weren’t getting harder with each pointed comment.
“I did knock, but you were so lost into yourself that you didn’t hear me. Figures you’d be like that.” Spike tried not to notice how her chest was heaving in anger, how her nipples were poking against that damn sexy top she was wearing.
“What’s that supposed to mean? You know what? I don’t care. Just get out of my room. Study group’s downstairs.” She shoved him into the hallway, trying to ignore the hard chest under her fingers and shut the door.
“Stupid bint,” Spike muttered under his breath, trying not to focus on the peek he had gotten down her tank when she had pushed him out the door. He stomped down the stairs and flopped on the couch, trying to let go of his anger and ease the hard-on that had emerged during their argument.
Buffy leaned against the door, trying to catch her breath and calm her fluttering nerves.
***
The study session passed uneventfully; there were only a few glares passed between the two blondes, which was normal for the them. When it was finally time for the session to end, Buffy was exhausted and eager to get to bed.
“See you guys tomorrow. Next session on Thursday before the test, right?” Buffy called out to her friends leaving the house. She shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Her bed was calling to her, knowing she needed a friend to process what had happened in her room earlier.
Finishing her nightly ritual, Buffy threw herself under the covers and thought about her encounter with Spike.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” she thought to herself. She began to imagine how it should have happened.
***
Spike walked into his room and threw his backpack on the floor. His calculus was as sharp as ever, but his mind and body were all in a jumble. He had always had this weird attraction to Buffy--weird because she pissed him off like no one else, and weird because she clearly didn’t like him at all--but he had never been hit so hard with that attraction until tonight.
Tonight, he had seen her completely defenseless, dancing with some unseen lover, moving her body like she was confident and comfortable with herself--not insecure and defensive the way she often acted with him. And that persona, the one who made him stare and drool and harden all in a matter of seconds, was not going to let him get much sleep. He brushed his teeth quickly, threw off his clothes, and got into bed. He closed his eyes and relived her dance.
***
She dances by herself, allowing the music to move her, when she suddenly feels hands on her hips.
“Hey, sexy. What are you doing dancing without me?” She feels his breath tickling her neck.
“Spike, you’re early. The group’s not supposed to get here for another half an hour,” she protests weakly but still sinking her body into his hands.
“I know, pet. I know. So let’s savor this dance while we’re alone.” Spike begins moving his hips behind her, their bodies undulating together to the music. Buffy feels the heat start building up in her as she strokes the hard body pressed against hers. “You make me so hot,” Spike murmurs while he dances. He kisses her neck slowly, starting at the base and moving to that spot behind her ear that makes her melt. His hands start to move up her body, caressing her waist and then lightly brushing underneath her breasts. She starts to breathe heavily, arching her back into his. She turns her head and kisses him. She then moves her whole body to face him and feels his tongue caressing her lips and then her tongue as they slowly experience each other’s mouths.
***
He leans back against her bed and watches her dance--only for him. She moves towards him seductively, lowering her eyes as she eases her hands over her breasts and down her hips. She glances at him slyly and then begins to toy with her jeans. Spike breathes in sharply and shifts in his pants, making room for his growing erection.
She unbuttons her jeans and slowly unzips them. Spike notices the black lace peeking through and whistles quietly. Buffy continues to sway to the music, turning around with the beat. She leans over slightly and begins to slide her jeans down, revealing her ass touched by a lacy thong. She lets the jeans drop to the floor and pauses, letting him savor the gorgeous view. She places her hands on her knees and gyrates sensually to the music, every so often looking over her shoulder at him.
Throwing her hair back and running her fingers through it, she sashays towards the bed. She climbs on the edge and crouches on her knees, flexing her body and allowing her chest to skim the covers in a snake-like motion. She leans into him and rips off his jeans, never letting her dancing stop. She runs her hands over her breasts and lightly squeezes them. He moans. She slowly, tantalizingly slides her top off and reveals a black bra that shows off her breasts. She pushes them towards him and lets him taste. His tongue finds her nipple and begins licking and sucking. She throws back her hair and moans, which makes his cock even harder.
***
She stops kissing him long enough to take off his black t-shirt. She runs her hands over his chest, caressing every muscle. Leaning forward, she flicks out her kitten tongue and teases his nipple. He grabs her and devours her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her ears, everything. She presses herself as close as possible, trying to lose herself in his embrace. His hand gently reaches in between them and unbuttons her jeans. Rubbing her through her lace thong, he smiles at her wetness and continues to kiss her while sliding his fingers into her panties and against her clit. She begins to push herself against him, digging her nails into his back while spreading her legs to get him deeper inside. She begins tightening her pussy, waiting for that sensation to knock her over...
***
He throws off his t-shirt and kisses her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and dancing with her tongue, her sweetness overwhelming him. He unhooks her bra and sucks her breast while she rubs herself against his long, hard cock. She pushes her thong to the side and begins touching herself. Moaning, he pushes her hand away and begins pleasuring her. Her wetness is intoxicating, and she begins to shudder with ecstasy. Before she reaches, he thrusts into her. They both scream, him from the tightness and her from the first wave of orgasmic bliss. He sits up, her legs curling around his waist. Rhythmically they begin rocking, the music still pounding in the background. He grabs her hips and begins slamming into her, sucking and kissing and biting everything he can taste. He feels himself moving towards climax and presses her close to him, feeling her legs tighten around him. They both begin breathing faster, moaning louder, squeezing harder...
***
“Uuuunnnngggg,” Buffy breathed, squeezing her thighs together and pressing her fingers up against her quivering clit.
***
“Guuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhh,” Spike moaned as his cum shot out, hitting his sweaty chest and dripping over his abs.
***
The night crept away slowly, leaving them to sleep in complete satisfaction.
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