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Chapter Eighteen

Spike watched Buffy putter around the kitchen, setting out their plates and cups while they waited for their pizza to arrive. He decided to participate in her preparation by lighting the candles on the table and dimming the lights.
She looked at him with a sweet, sappy smile on her face. She opened her mouth to tell him something when there was a knock on the front door. She scrunched her eyebrows together, clearly confused. "That can't be the food."

He glanced up at the clock, "No, can't be. I called just five minutes ago."
Looking at each other they said at the same time, "Doyle."

"I'll get it," Buffy told Spike, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before
heading toward the door.

Spike smiled, his cheek tingling from just a simple kiss. His smile turned
into a frown however when he realized the voice he heard talking with
Buffy was not Doyle. In fact, it sounded very much like the wanker she'd
been talking to two nights ago. Jealously raged through him and he made
his way determinedly into the foyer.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that Ri, I hadn't checked my messages this
morning," Buffy was saying.

"That's okay, Buffy. I just figured I'd stop by to find out—" The oaf stopped
talking as Spike made his way up behind Buffy and wrapped his arm
possessively around her waist.

"Who's this kitten?" he asked, sizing up the tall man looming in the
doorway.

"Oh, Spike this is Riley, Riley this is Spike."

"Oh, I'm sorry Buffy, I didn't realize you had company," Riley apologized,
turning red. "Uh, call me tomorrow or something if you get a chance."

"Excuse me?" Spike growled. The git had the nerve to STILL make a play
for his girl even when it was obvious she was taken?

Buffy hit him in the ribs with her elbow lightly, a silent signal for him to not
make a scene.

"Okay Ri, will do. Bye!" and she shut the door, leaning her back against it
and looking up at Spike.

He lunged at her, placing his hands on either side of her head and eliciting a
gasp of surprise from her. Spike growled, "Who is that? What does he want
with you?"

She blinked, "Are you—you're jealous!"

"Yes, you're bloody right, I am. I'll rip his head off and shove it up his arse
if he comes near you again. And as for you, I'll lock you up all Rapunzel like
if you—"

She cut him off by wrapping her arms around him instead and kissing him
sweetly. "We really need to work on your gaydar, honey," she told him
after.

He paused and then straightened. "You mean--?"

"Yes, honey. Riley is gay. He's in one of my classes and he asked me for
some help since he knows I get all A's. He's got a crush on Doyle. Though
Doyle's got a crush on your friend Xander."

"Riley's gay?"

She nodded.

"He's got a crush on Doyle?"

She nodded again.

"So he's not hitting on you?"

Buffy shook her head.

"Oh."

"You're cute when you're jealous though," she smiled up at him. "It's
actually kind of hot."

He grinned, "Is it now?"

"Well, makes me feel like I'm worth getting jealous about."

"You are. Buffy, when you started having an interest in boy's way back when, I wanted to take them all out. Didn't want them near you. Why do
you think I flipped that day I came in and Doyle was on top of you?"

Her eyes widened. "Doyle said the same thing! He told me you were
jealous. I thought he was crazy."

Spike smiled, "Now you know."

"Wow. Am I that oblivious?"

He shook his head, "I kept things from you, put you at a distance. How
were you to know? I didn't want you to know. From the minute you ran out
to meet me when I came home, I knew I was in trouble. Thought you were
the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I'd missed you so much . . . and then
you ran into my arms like you'd missed me just as much . . . " he shook his
head in wonder.

"I did miss you. Tons. I didn't think you missed me."

He brushed some hair from her face, "I did. So much."

Her eyes filled with something heavy, something he could see she wasn't
ready to give voice to. Love. He could see it in her eyes, and he guessed
that perhaps she knew he could read it there because she buried her face in
his chest, a shiver rippling through her.

He held onto her, finding for the first time some comfort and peace in his
love for her. She felt the same, he knew it; he felt it. At that moment, he felt
as if they could weather any storm threw at them. He knew the big hurdle
would be in telling their parents, but he felt stronger in the knowledge that
she was right there with him, lending him strength.

He felt weak compared to her. It was amazing to him how brave she was.
She'd always been such a tomboy –even when she had started becoming
interested in boys. She preferred the ones that would play baseball with
her, or engage in burping contests with her. She liked a challenge. She was
never one to put her heart out there for just anyone; they had to be
deserving her eyes. Not many gained her loyalty and love. Doyle, her gay
best friend, had. Spike was pretty sure, though she never said and maybe
didn't know that he was a buffer for her. With Doyle there, there was no
pressure from the opposite sex. Doyle presented no threat to her; he had
no interest in her sexually. In this way, she could protect herself from
getting hurt.

He had made it through though. That spoke volumes to him; that told him
that it was meant to be. And God knew he needed such signs to quiet his
mind. He had penetrated the walls of Buffy Summers. He was the one she
was putting her heart on the line for. He was the one she wanted to be with
– even before she knew how he felt. She had been the one pursuing the
truth of his feelings. She was fighting for him, for them and it humbled him.
She made him strong. Made him feel he wasn't wrong, made him feel that
what they had was something worth fighting for. She made him feel that
they were right and that the world was wrong. He wanted to hold onto that.
He was afraid if he didn't, he'd be sunk back into the desolate world he'd
been living in thinking he was a twisted perv for loving Buffy the way he
did. In that world, he didn't have her love and her love was the greatest
thing he'd ever known. So he had to cling to her, had to put his faith in them
as much as she had. And as long as she was by his side, he was sure he
could it.

He hoped.

*******************************************************************
Halfway through the movie they'd chosen to watch, Spike realized that Buffy was no longer paying much attention to it. Her gaze kept drifting to his as he held her in the safety of his arms. He looked down at her curiously.

Her gaze skittered away and he bit back a smile. When she was ready, she'd tell him. Of that he had no doubt. She pulled out of his arms a minute later and stared at him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Earlier."

"On the hammock?"

She nodded.

His jeans suddenly got tight at the mention of their time outside. How her
body felt under his touch, how she responded to him, how she tasted.
"What about it?" he asked cautiously.

"I've never seen a penis up close before," she told him bluntly.

His jaw dropped to the ground. "What?"

"I've never seen—"

"Yeah, I heard you, I just – Buffy, what are you trying to do to me here?"

She knit her brows together. "What do you mean?"

"When you talk about those things with me—Buffy, God, you really don't
have any idea how much I want you do you?"

She blushed profusely and bit her bottom lip. Then she met his eyes. "I
want to touch it."

He was going to have a heart attack. "What?" he managed to nearly
squeak out.

Seeming to gather her courage about her, she reached out and placed her
hand over the now prominent bulge in his pants. She looked up at him, "I
want to touch it," she said again.

"Buffy," he groaned.

Her fingers drifted over his zipper, "Can I?"

"Buffy, you don't have to—"

"I know. I want to. I'm curious."

"Buffy, you're not ready—"

"If I say I want to touch it, then I'm ready. Trust me."

He stared at her, at the determined look on her face.

"Are YOU ready?" she asked, starting to take her hand back. He grabbed
it and placed it over his cock.

"I'm ready," he said hoarsely. "With whatever you feel comfortable giving
me."

She smiled broadly and leaned up to kiss him. He kissed her deeply, letting
her feel the depth of his fathomless emotions for her.

She pulled back and kneeled before him, setting to the task of
unbuttoning his jeans. His breath hitched and held, his fantasies coming to
life. All of them were coming to life and he felt so unworthy. His angel trusted him, wanted him and felt the need to please him. It was overwhelming and the greatest gift he'd ever known.

It seemed an eternity for her to unzip him.

"Buffy—" he started and then his cock sprang free. She reared back just a
little bit, gasping. "I go commando," he finished.

She stared at his cock, her head tilted to the side. He grew harder. And
when a bead of precum oozed from the slit on top, she leaned forward and
delicately swiped at it with her soft tongue.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, his head dropping back.

"Was that—"

"Fucking brilliant," he choked out. He looked down at her and found her
watching him curiously.

"What do I do?"

"T-touch me."

She fisted her hand around his cock. "Like this?"

He nodded, unable to form words at the feel of her hot little hands on his
cock. He was going to die right there and it was going to be because of her.

"Stroke it Buffy," he managed to choke out.

She unknowingly squeezed just a fraction harder and glided her fist up his
shaft, and then down, slowly. More precum oozed and when she glided back
up she swirled her thumb around it, coating the head, watching in
fascination. Then she leaned in and covered just the head of his cock with
her mouth and sucked hard.

He went cross eyed and fought the urge to surge his hips forward and bury
more of himself in her sweet mouth.

She leaned back and looked up at him, gauging his reaction as she stroked
his shaft. After three strokes she leaned in and covered the head again,
sucked, and proceeded to engulf more in her mouth.

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," he babbled, his head lolling. She was driving him out
of his mind. Her curiosity combined with her inexperience but her
willingness to experiment was driving him round the bend.

"F-faster Buffy, please," he begged. She jerked him faster, harder.

"Buffy, fuck, I'm going to… I'm going to . . . "

"Cum?"

"Yes, baby, move before I—"

"I want to taste more," she whispered and that was it.

Just as her mouth closed round him, he spurted off in her mouth, coming
harder than he ever had before. He was panting, his heart was racing and
he felt as if he were gliding to heaven.

When he was able to think clearly, he reached down and hauled her up to
him so that she straddled his lap, his semi hard cock just resting between
her ass cheeks.

He devoured her lips, tasting himself. He pulled back to allow her to
breathe and stared at her, feeling himself in awe of her.

"Buffy . . . " he whispered. "That was . . . amazing."

"Really? I didn't really know what I was doing. I just went by what you
seemed to like."

He shook his head and held her close, burying his face in his neck.
"Anything you give me is more than I deserve."

"Not true," she told him firmly. "You deserve it. It's my love to give and I
choose you. Only you."





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