Chapter 12
The afternoon had stretched beyond reason. Its endless hours succeeded in putting the two occupants of the apartment at odds. Both were impatient at having to wait until the next day to search out further proof that Buffy was right. There was even an attempt to meet with Captain Roberts that very night but he had left early for a family event and was unreachable. This only aggravated Spike more and left Buffy withdrawn again. She had retreated into the kitchen to cook dinner, refusing his offer to help.
Spike watched her from the corner of his eye as she set the table. He wasn’t sure what she had conjured up but it had a funny odor. Absently he rubbed at his nose, hoping it was at least edible. Whether it was or not, he knew that he would have to consume it. He prayed his acting skills were up to par if it was horrible.
“Dinner’s ready,” Buffy said, setting a pot down in the middle of the table. “Iced tea, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine, pet,” Spike said. He waited until she was reaching into the refrigerator to peek into the pot. His nose wrinkled at the mess that filled it. The mixture looked sort of grayish brown with slices of bread floating on top.
“Something wrong?” Buffy asked, glancing over at him as she filled the glasses with ice.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. It smells wonderful.” He paused as he took a seat. “What is it?”
“It’s called Rustic Meat and Bean Pot,” Buffy said, proudly. She set his glass down in front of him. “I saw the recipe on 30-minute Meals. You know, the show that Rachel Ray does. Anyway it looked good and seemed simple enough. Of course, we didn’t have all the ingredients so I had to improvise.”
“Oh,” Spike said, picking up the serving spoon. He had no clue of the show Buffy was talking about but remembered she had said that she watched a lot of television in the last couple of years. Briefly he wondered what else she considered herself an expert on that he might end up being the guinea pig for. Without waiting for any more encouragement he scooped up a large quantity of his dinner and put it in the bowl. “Thanks for cooking.”
“I needed to do something.”
“I’m sorry that we have to wait,” Spike said, squeezing her hand. “It’ll happen.”
“Spike?”
“Yeah?’
“What happens if we don’t have this finished by the end of the week?”
It was the question he’d been waiting for. There was more at stake now than just the investigation. It was whatever growing feelings that were between them that needed to be figured out. He didn’t know how to answer because he had been avoiding what his heart was telling him. Logics were slowly being erased though, which only added to his confusion.
So, trying to give himself time to figure out what to say he decided to try the first meal that Buffy had cooked by herself. All he could taste was garlic, a lot of garlic. He coughed and reached for his tea.
“What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, as he swallowed half his glass.
“Nothing, Luv, I think I swallowed wrong.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Buffy asked, dipping her spoon in the pot and sniffing it. She tentatively tasted a small bite. She sighed and dropped it in her bowl. “It’s all garlicky, isn’t it?”
“Just a little bit,” Spike said, trying to suppress a smile. “How much did you put in?”
“The recipe said four cloves but we didn’t have any so I used four spoonfuls of the powdered stuff.”
“Oh, well,” Spike said, dipping his spoon in again. “We’ll just have nasty breath together.” Spike tried but he couldn’t swallow anymore. Besides the garlic there was just something not right about it. He poked at something that was floating in it. He held it up. “What’s this?”
“Hot dog,” Buffy said, her eyes widening. “We didn’t have any Italian sausage.”
“So, you used hot dogs?” Spike couldn’t help the mirth coating his words. She had quite an imagination when it came to substituting food. There was no way he could eat it and wiped at his face as he tried to figure out what to say to her.
“Whatever,” Buffy said, pushing her chair back as she stood. “I guess you’re just counting the seconds until I’m out of here. Gee, you didn’t have to answer. I know it’s because I’ve gotten you arrested, I can’t cook, I’ve cleaned and rearranged your apartment and invaded your privacy. Anything else I’ve done wrong?”
“Buffy, you haven’t done anything wrong…”
“You don’t want me here.”
“It’s not that simple, Luv,” Spike said, trying to be patient. They had been together pretty much all the time since she had gotten there. Emotions were tangled. Tension was high. There was no real privacy. They were both adjusting to new routines. She was right. It all irritated him but he cared more about her than he did about having to adjust. “Dinner just went wrong, that’s all. No big deal.”
“I’m sorry,” Buffy said.
He reached for her but she moved away. There were so many conflicting emotions going through him that he was immobilized by indecision. It had only been a few days. How could she mean so much to him already? He watched her as she moved across the room. The sway of her bottom, the bounce of her braid against her back and the gentle aroma of flowers left in her wake. He laughed that he could even smell it over the mess she had made of dinner. It was all Buffy though. And all woman he decided as his body ached to be close to her.
When she reached the bathroom she turned to look at him. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Maybe it was better to say nothing rather than possibly tell her a lie. She’d had enough of those. Until he knew what he wanted without a doubt he wouldn’t make her promises he couldn’t keep.
The water in the bathtub started to run and he could hear her rummaging around in the bedroom. He stood there waiting. Waiting for the radio to be turned on, the water turned off once the tub was full, and waited for her to slide into the water. His mind filled with images of her nude, lithe body, rosy from the heat, so close to him but yet unattainable. With a frustrated sigh, he turned to clean up from dinner.
~~~~~~~
The cigarettes were disappearing in rapid succession. Spike had been chain smoking since he finished the kitchen. There was nothing to do but let his imagination run overtime. The too brief time kissing her on the beach had made him aware of how much he desired her. Fantasies demanded his attention until all he wanted was to break down the bathroom door. Then he would feel guilty because he knew his thoughts would frighten her. The women he was used to knew the score. Sex was fun, a pleasure, and didn’t have to come with strings, guilt, or fear. They would share his bed, his time, but never his heart. If it wouldn’t hurt the girl on the other side of the wall he would consider meeting one of his friends for a few hours. But it would so he lit another one. His third or fourth, he’d lost count.
Buffy came out of the bedroom finally. His eyes opened wider as he took in what she was wearing. A pair of boxers that looked suspiciously like a pair from his dresser and a tight black tank top that clearly showed her pebbled nipples. His tongue flicked at his front teeth as he squirmed in his chair. She couldn’t know. How could she? Spike shook his head as he tried to convince himself that she wasn’t out to seduce him. Her innocence had left her in poor judgment of what to wear around a man, especially a man that wanted her as badly as he did.
“Spike,” Buffy snapped, yanking open the sliding glass door. “Did you eat all the Dove ice cream bars?” She waved a box that once held the treats.
“There should be one left,” Spike said, trying to clear the fog that was filling his senses. He stubbed out his cigarette.
“Son of a bitch,” Buffy muttered slamming the door shut again.
Wondering which alternate universe he was finding himself in, he followed her into the kitchen.
“Isn’t there one left?”
“Yeah, one,” Buffy said.
“So, you have one right?” Spike asked shaking his head. He didn’t understand why she was so upset. “What’s the big deal, pet?”
“Oh,” Buffy yelped. “The big deal is you. Telling me that I can only get enough stuff for one week, one week,” she held up one finger. “I have to be out of Spike’s kingdom in seven days. So, I buy stuff to last the week, which I paid for by the way, I ration out everything to last and you ate them all.”
“Are you PMSing?”
Spike didn’t have time to duck. The ice cream box hit him on the chin. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the righteous anger that was Buffy at the moment. She stood there trembling and clutching the last bar in her hand. She went to walk by him and he decided enough was enough. If she wanted to be childish then why couldn’t he.
“If it’s such a big treat that you can’t share,” Spike said, reaching for her. “Then I guess I want the last one too.” He tried to snatch it from her but she turned the other way. “Hey, I said I want it.” Reaching his arms around her, he felt for the bar in her hands.
Buffy pushed him back with a quick shove of her hip. He wasn’t going to give up, advancing he pinned her against the counter with the weight of his body. She slapped at his hand but he felt paper against his fingertips so he didn’t react. Grabbing the paper he pulled in triumph. He’d won. His glee only lasted long enough for him to realize that all he was holding was the wrapper. Buffy backed away waving the ice cream at him.
“I’ve got it,” Buffy said, popping the entire bar into her mouth.
“And I said I want it.”
Her eyes widened as he kept coming toward her. Spike didn’t stop until her back hit the wall at the end of the kitchen. She glanced around her looking for an escape. He blocked her in by putting his hands on the wall on either side of her.
“Hmm, looks like I’m going to get what I wanted after all,” Spike whispered, slowly moving toward her. He didn’t want to frighten her but he had reached the end of his rope. He needed this. She didn’t move but her breath came quicker. Her eyes darkened with desire. “I bet you taste good.” Spike closed his eyes as he moved in the last inch so he could kiss her. His face hit the wall.
Buffy was giggling as she slid down the wall, under his arm and darted toward the living room. It was almost impossible to believe that she was playing. It brought out a side of him that few saw. He laughed as he followed her. She ran behind the sofa while he took the front. They faced each other as they feigned going one way then the other. Both were laughing as they dodged each other. Buffy stopped, holding her sides from the laughter that continued to bubble from her very soul. She gained control for a second, only long enough to stick her tongue out at him. It was covered in the melting ice cream. His body screamed at him, his cock grew hard and he decided to end this charade.
Using the back of the couch for leverage, he leapt over it. Thankfully, chasing suspects came in handy in trying to get the girl. An evil laughed escaped him as Buffy screeched in surprise when he landed in front of her. She jumped back, turned and ran for the bedroom. It was too easy. She was crawling over the bed and he practically flew from the entrance of the bedroom to land next to her. He straddled her as he grabbed her shoulders. She was hanging partially off the bed.
“Stop,” Buffy gasped. Her hand covered her mouth when she realized that she had sprayed ice cream. She broke out in giggles again. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
“I’m going to get it,” Spike teased, lying on her back. He bent his head to try to capture her mouth. “It’s mine. Gonna get it, gonna get it.”
Buffy pushed up with her arms, dislodging him and dumping him onto his side next to her. She went to roll away but he moved too fast. This time when he covered her, they were face to face.
“Yep, it’s mine now,” Spike laughed, pinning her hands down playfully. Buffy was still laughing when he covered her mouth with his. Her teeth were clamped shut, refusing to open for his tongue that ran along their edges. “Give it to me, pet. I need the ice cream.” She shook her head no. “Guess what. I’m determined.” He tickled her sides. She squealed and he shoved his tongue into her mouth.
He stilled as the first flavors coated his tongue. The rich chocolate, the sweet vanilla and the ripe, tart taste of Buffy filled his senses. The time for play was over as he swept his tongue across hers again. He groaned the first time she returned his caress, letting the melting treat flow into his mouth. He lost all ability to think when she shook her hands free from his, letting them coast down his sides to cup his ass. He pushed his erection against her, rubbing against her mound, until she arched up against him.
Her fingers drifted upwards, under the hem of his t-shirt, and onto the flesh of his back. She kneaded his waist, tickled his spine, and cupped his shoulder blades, never breaking their kiss. The shifting of her tongue into his mouth sent his body into overdrive. He was at the point of not being able to turn back. He needed her too much so he pulled away, coming to his knees above her. He didn’t count on her following him up, her hands still holding onto his waist.
“Pet, I want you too much,” he whispered hoarsely. “I can’t…need to stop.”
It was too hard. Almost impossible to think about getting out of this bed, away from her hungry eyes and soft hands that made him feel more than he wanted. But it was what she needed, not to be pushed, and he would give her that.
“Spike,” Buffy said, gaining his attention again. She pushed his shirt upwards, over his ribcage before meeting his eyes again. “Will you make me feel good?” It was the echo of his request to her. How could he turn her down? There wasn’t any need to ask if she was sure. She continued to push his shirt upwards as she bent her head to kiss the flat plane of his stomach. He pulled his shirt off, throwing it somewhere before he buried his hands in her hair.
“Oh, god,” he muttered as she licked her way down his stomach. Her tongue flicked into his belly button as her hands returned to his hips. Chills raced across his flesh as her fingers dug into his ass. Gravity pulled him forward as his dizziness overtook him. His hands holding onto her shoulders were the only thing keeping him from falling over. He threw his head back and his hips forward when she nipped at his pelvic bone. Never had it felt like this. He was so afraid it would stop but he couldn’t help letting himself lose control. This was something that he had never had before and he knew it was finally within his grasp.
“May I?” Buffy asked, her hands resting on the fly of his jeans. She stared up into his eyes as she popped the button.
“Anything you want,” Spike ground out. She nodded, turned her gaze downwards again and lowered his zipper. His crotch was level with her face and he almost came at the look of awestruck need she had when she uncovered him. She tugged his jeans down and he stepped back to stand on the floor. He made short work of the rest of his clothes so he could stand before her nude. She licked her lips as she studied his form.
The first time they had been together only the distant light from the living room had illuminated their activities. This time the light shone from the nightstand. It gave brilliant enlightenment to this new act. This had nothing to do with heroism, making strides or trying to overcome the past. They were just two people who were discovering each other’s body, heart and soul.
Buffy pulled her shirt over her head, letting it join his on the floor.
Spike stared for only a second. His mouth watered from the sight before him. Her eyes were downcast, a slight flush gracing her cheeks, and he leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth.
“Lie back,” he encouraged, his hands finding their way to the waistband of the boxers. She followed his instructions, looking up at him, watching as he removed the last of the barriers between them. “You are so beautiful.”
“With you I am,” Buffy responded, holding her arms out to him.
Nothing could stop him from joining her on the bed. She scooted back, he followed, his legs straddling hers, his hands beside her on the pillows. Emeralds burned into him, as he lowered his head for a kiss. She was the epitome of womanhood and he groaned as he covered her body. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him, keeping him from harm. Fingers caressed his hair, pulling curls out then letting them go. Their mouths lingered against one another. Neither of them was able to let go; only parting long enough to breath.
“Is this possible?” Buffy whispered against his lips. “Am I wrong for wanting you like this? It’s been only days and I hardly know you.”
“What do you want to know?” Spike asked, kissing a trail down her neck. “Ask me anything.” His hand cupped her bottom, squeezing, kneading the soft flesh.
“I don’t know,” Buffy said shyly.
“My favorite color is black,” Spike murmured against her breast. His breath hardening the rosy nipple until it begged for him. He licked it, looking up at her, before sucking it into his mouth.
“Mine’s blue,” Buffy said, squirming beneath him. “More.”
“More information or more sucking?” Spike asked with a chuckle. He ran his tongue along the underside of her breast while his hand slid downward along her thigh.
“Oooooh…both,” Buffy said, pushing him until he was on his back. She kissed along his chest.
“My favorite food is spicy wings, I love to watch Passions, I prefer jeans and t-shirts, and…pet, what you’re doing right now,” He moaned as she chewed gently on his nipple. “That I love,” he sighed, letting his hand coast along her back. “I like to play pool, slow dance and I prefer night to day.”
His legs fell open when her fingernails tickled the inside of his thigh. Chills darted through him when she cupped his balls, squeezing gently. He panted when one finger traced the vein on the underside of his cock. Forcing his eyes open, he watched her as her fingers embraced his shaft, pumping slowly.
“Am I doing okay?” Buffy asked, hesitantly.
“Bloody brilliant,” He muttered, cupping the back of her neck. “If you keep it up though there isn’t going to be a main show.” He took her hand, bringing it upwards as he flipped them again. “Tell me about you. Things I don’t know.”
“Not very much,” Buffy said, watching him as he pushed her legs apart so he could crawl between them. “I do like to play pool.”
“Yeah?” Spike asked, unable to stop the grin on his face as he stared at the center of her. He licked her from bottom to top, enjoying the soft sound she made in response. “What else?”
“I used to like slow dancing,” Buffy whispered, raggedly. He tugged a little harder on her clit to see how far he could take her. “I like this better.”
“What me eating your sweet pussy?” Spike asked, flicking his tongue along her slit.
She froze. “Please don’t talk like that.”
For a moment Spike had forgotten about her past in the midst of enjoying being with her in the present. Cursing his own stupidity, he moved over her. He brushed back her hair, cupped her cheek while he let his thumb slide over her features.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Buffy tried to smile up at him. “How could you know?”
Spike buried his face in her neck, gathering her close to him. She stroked his back and kissed his shoulder.
“Don’t Spike, please,” Buffy whispered. “Get off me.”
It was over. She was pushing him away because he had said the wrong thing. There was no way he wouldn’t comply and he rolled onto his back.
“It’s okay,” Spike said, hoping to make her feel better. Or himself? He wasn’t sure at that moment. His eyes flew open when he felt her kiss on his stomach. He didn’t argue; just let her have her way, as she made love to him. She explored his body, tasting and feeling, driving him somewhere new. No practiced hand had ever made him feel like this and by the time she reached into the drawer for the condom he was quivering in need for her.
Buffy’s face scrunched in concentration as she rolled the condom down his length. Once done she smiled in triumph and straddled him. He reached to help her position herself but she was one step ahead of him. She slid down his length as he tried not to think of where she had done this before. Instead he concentrated on her face. The pleasure that lit up her features and the fire that burned in her eyes. She was flying and he wanted to fly with her. She reached for his hand, brought it to her breast, while she leaned forward on her other hand.
Spike wanted everything for her. He wanted her to scream this time, to forget everything but the ecstasy between them. His hand slid between them, his finger coaxing her clitoris into bringing her greater pleasure. She quaked above him, his hand coated with the warm release of her orgasm, and he felt more like a man than he ever had before.
She was unsure of what to do now. She stopped her movements, staring down at him with confusion in her eyes. Her inner muscles squeezed him, he arched up into her depths and she started to move again. Riding him, changing tempos, learning what made him moan and what made his eyes roll back in his head. He watched her every move, every idea that flitted through her eyes until he couldn’t take it anymore. He flipped them.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Spike begged, as he thrust into her. Those sweat slicked limbs came high around his waist, holding on while he built momentum. He leaned his forehead against hers, never breaking contact as he ground against her, bringing her to one more climax before he found his own. He kissed her softly.
“You amaze me,” he whispered. Her fingers combed through his hair as she gave him a womanly smile.
“And you still owe me ice cream,” Buffy said.
“Hmmm, do I get more of this?”
“Maybe if you buys lots,” Buffy teased, her legs unhooking from him. He shifted to lay his head on her breast.
“I have to bribe my…,” Spike stopped when he almost called her his woman.
It was her that whispered it was okay this time, kissing the top of his head. And he knew it was. Some things didn’t need words.
to be continued…
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