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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to everyone who has been keeping with this fic. It really means a lot and I love the feedback :)

Thanks to my wonderful betas Laura and Jace!
Chapter Nine- Nobody’s Home

Buffy had already been at the party for three hours when her cell phone started vibrating in her bag. She rolled her eyes, Angel was probably in the back of the house wondering where she was and too lazy to look for her. The screen displayed one new text message. Curious, she opened her phone and read the message, a grin spreading across her face.

I’m here.

Buffy looked around the crowded room, hoping to catch a glimpse of bright blond hair. As she started walking to the back of the house, her phone vibrated in her hand.

Getting colder...

Quickly, she spun around, almost spilling her drink with the sudden movement. Where the hell was he? He wouldn’t be waiting for her in the main party room. No, he’d be much sneakier and hide upstairs.

Cold.

Buffy held back a frustrated cry as she read the message before her foot even touched the first step. He was so gonna get it. Where the hell are you!?

Careful to avoid her friends and Angel, she wandered through the house, reading his hints to determine which way she should go. She stumbled past two people making out in the front hall, her alcohol induced brain only allowing her to focus on finding Spike.

Getting warmer.

She grinned, opening the front door and stumbling over the threshold. Something told her to go left, earning her one final message.

Hot.

Buffy found Spike leaning against the side of the Sigma house smoking a cigarette. As soon as he saw her, he flicked the cigarette out of his hand, his signature smirk lighting up his face. She tried as hard as she could to saunter over to him sexily, a feat in her drunken state.

"Hot, huh?" she asked in what she hoped sounded like a sultry voice.

"Had a bit to drink, pet?"

"A little," she replied with a giggle. "Maybe a lot. Aren’t you going to kiss me?"

The pout was what did it for him. Pulling her towards him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, uncaring at the moment who could see them. He could taste the alcohol in her mouth as her tongue danced with his.

He groaned as her hand traveled down his body, stopping to rub him through his jeans. "Not here," he managed to get out, taking her hand in his. If she didn’t stop, he was likely to take her up against the frat house.

"I like it here." She grinned up at him, licking the side of his neck then biting his earlobe. "I want you."

"I want you, too, baby," he replied hoarsely. "Just not here."

She pulled back abruptly with a mischievous smile. "I know just the place."

***

"I can’t go in there!" Spike hissed at her minutes later.

Buffy looked at him, confusion written all over her face. "Why not?"

He gestured at the house as if he shouldn’t have to explain himself. "Because someone could catch us."

"Everybody’s at the party. Nobody will bother us," she promised, pressing herself up against him.

Spike stared from her to the sorority house, uncertainty in his eyes. How the hell did she expect him to think clearly when she was rubbing up against him like that? "Don’t you have someone who’s supposed to wait for everyone to come home? Like a designated sister?"

Buffy scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and tonight’s Faith’s turn. Right about now, Faith’s either dancing on some sort of table or in some guy’s room giving him the ride of his life. We have the place to ourselves."

He could feel the resolve slipping from his grasp. God, did those leather pants look good on her. Like a bloody second skin. And if her hand accidentally brushed against his crotch one more time he was sure he’d come right there in his pants.

She knew he’d caved when he let out a long sigh and dropped his head. Looking around to double check that they weren’t being watched, she took his hand in hers and led him up the walk to the house.

***

Just as she’d predicted, the entire house was empty. Spike couldn’t believe there wasn’t one single person that had stayed home from the party, but really wasn’t that surprised given the reputation of Buffy’s sorority. She led him up to her room which was on the second floor. He was also surprised, and extremely relieved, that she had her own room and bathroom. It was an unusual commodity in the college world and Buffy must be something important in the house.

Buffy made sure she locked the door behind her while Spike took a seat on the bed. The room didn’t look like it belonged to Buffy. She was all woman and always in control; her room, though, was a separate issue all together. He’d never seen a room quite so messy before, and that was a huge understatement. No surface was left uncovered. As he ran a hand over the pink sheets of her bed, he realized she really was just a girl, and a messy one at that. There were clothes, magazines, shoes, and other girly accessories he couldn’t even name strewn about the room.

She went to her closet and returned with a bottle of Jack Daniels and two shot glasses. She poured a drink for both of them.

Spike raised an eyebrow, but accepted the amber liquid. "Bit of a party girl, are we?"

Buffy chuckled. "This is a good night." She gave up on the shot glass, drinking straight from the bottle before handing it to him.

"You and the rest of your sorority."

"Me and the rest of the campus," she amended. "People come to UC Sunnydale to party."

Spike scoffed before taking a long swig of the whiskey. "And here I thought people went to college to learn."

Buffy pouted. "Oh, did I just ruin some sort of fantasy? Kids excited about school? Please."

"How about kids excited about cleaning their rooms? That’s another fantasy of mine," he replied sarcastically.

Buffy looked around at the mess she’d created just hours before. "I like it like this. I know exactly where everything is."

"Yeah, because you can see where everything is." Spike stared into her lust filled eyes as she moved towards him.

She took the bottle from him before straddling his thighs. "Did you come here to talk or fuck?"

Spike inwardly cringed at her choice of words. But what did he expect? They’d never called it anything but 'having sex' or 'fucking'. To her, they were just sleeping together.

Taking it from her mid-swig, he took one last drink from the bottle noticing it was already more than halfway finished, before placing it on the night table next to her bed. His hands trailed up the back of her thighs, resting on her ass with a slap and pushing her chest into his face. They traveled farther to the straps of her halter, slowly removing her top and discarding it among the other garments on the floor.

His mouth moved to her exposed breasts, latching onto one soft nipple, teasing it with his tongue until he felt the bud harden beneath his teeth. She moaned and arched her back into him, craving his attention on her other breast. Not one to disappoint, Spike moved from one breast to the other, leaving a small trail of kisses in the space between the two mounds, before he found what he was looking for. While his fingers tweaked her already sensitive nipple, his mouth went to work on the other.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him closer, feeling like he was never close enough. She murmured his name over and over, until his mouth left her breasts and she moaned at the loss of contact. Taking her by the waist, he pushed her down onto the bed, hovering over her. He stared down at her, his eyes glazed over with lust and... But he was kissing her before she could finish the thought.

He moved between her thighs, covering her body with his. She could feel the evidence of his arousal poking into her and if he wasn’t inside her soon she was going to combust. Her fingers snaked between them, finding the buttons she knew so well now and quickly disposing him of his jeans and boots.

As soon as his pants were on the floor, her hand was around his cock, stroking him until he thought he’d come in her hands. "Buffy, baby...I’m gonna...If you keep..."

Buffy rolled out from underneath him, pushing him onto his back. Her hand still pumping his weeping erection, she kissed from his pelvis up the hard planes of his stomach and chest, bringing his black tee with her. Before she could move past his nipples, he had his shirt off and she went back to focusing on his dick.

She licked her lips before engulfing him into the heat of her mouth. He groaned at the contact, glad for the privacy a deserted house offered them. He couldn’t help but watch as her head bobbed up and down, taking him in as far as she could, swallowing around the head all the while running her tongue up and down the underside of his cock. It was truly an art and she had perfected it in the short time they’d known each other.

Her hands that had been pumping the base of his shaft, wandered lower to fondle the two sacks she came in contact with. God, he was so close and trying to hold off for as long as possible. It was heaven being in her mouth, but if she kept swallowing around him like that, he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer.

"So...bloody close..." he murmured, his hands buried in her hair, encouraging her movements without pushing her head down. "Beautiful, baby...bloody great....Fuck!"

Buffy crawled up his body, licking her lips clean of his spendings, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Fuck?" Her black leather pants were gone in an instant. "Why didn’t you just say so?"

He tasted himself on her tongue as she kissed him hungrily, her hair falling around them like a veil. Her hand was between them again, stroking him to life. It didn’t take long before he was hard again, and she wasted no time directing him to her dripping pussy.

She let out a long moan as he filled her completely. There had never been anyone who fit her as perfectly as he did.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as he flipped them over, angling himself so that he hit her clit with every up thrust. She whimpered beneath him, begging for release. His lips found hers, kissing her almost to the point of pain, sending a jolt right to her clit. It was rare when he was rough with her like this. Yeah, he was always enthusiastic but normally he liked to take his time and work her into a frenzy a couple times before letting either of them come.

Tonight was different. His thrusts were hard and she knew she’d be sore in the morning, but she didn’t want to stop him or tell him to slow down. But even when he acted like this, he still held her close to him, showing her that no matter what she was more than just a way to get off.

His arms were wrapped underneath her shoulders, and his mouth was still attached to hers, like he couldn’t get enough of her lips and tongue. She was so close, all she needed was a little stimulation. As her hand slipped from his shoulder en route to her clit, he hit her at just the right angle with just enough thrust to send her over the edge with a cry muffled by his mouth.

It only took him a handful more thrusts before his thick juices coated her inside walls. He let out a deep breath, kissing her forehead before collapsing on top of her. She couldn’t help but compare how it felt to have him resting on her, as opposed to Angel’s hulky frame crushing her. Spike was so much more comfortable and she could actually breathe.

As if he could hear what she was thinking, he rolled them to their sides, still inside of her. Not giving himself time to think about what a colossal mistake he was about to make, he pulled the covers over them before pulling her close to him. It was only a matter of minutes before the alcohol they’d drank and the exertion of their coupling sent them into a deep slumber.





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