“I changed my mind about the clothes. I picked something else out,” she told him animatedly as soon as he shut the door.
“You went through my things?”
“Oh, just the closet. I laid the ensemble out for you.”
William grinned, “What are you, mom now?”
“Perish the thought! Go, go, go get ready. I am just going to slip on what I’m wearing and we’re good to go,” she said ushering him with her hands to get going.
He had to laugh. She could be quite a bossy thing when she wanted to be. “Do we get to eat at all Miss Summers?” he asked, looking at her over his shoulder.
“Yep. The deli down the street.”
“That it?”
“You a growing boy still?” she teased.
He grinned mischievously, “A man has needs you know.”
“Well, maybe we can see about tending to some of those needs where we’re going,” she said and headed off into her room, shutting the door.
William broke out into a cold sweat and his entire body lurched with anticipation at her words. If she wanted, she could tend very well to his needs.
Pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead, William wondered what the hell he was doing. He was really in the thick of it now, wasn’t he? He’d thought he was over this, he thought all that time away from her had cooled that little crush he had on her. Seemed all it took was just one look at her and all those feelings came rushing back.
And let’s face it. It wasn’t a crush. This was more than a crush. Goddammit, he was in love with her. Helplessly, completely, head over heels in love with her. It was the same as before, time and age told him that much. He’d been in love with her the entire time and it made sense really. How he always had a penchant for blondes, how he seemed unable to commit to anything serious with one woman, and his job not being that much of a factor in all that. It was Buffy. Always Buffy. God, it was so aggravating! William wasn’t sure who to focus that frustration onto, him or her.
Pondering how he was going to kindly get her going on finding a job and getting out of his apartment as some much needed distance was imperative here, William started to get ready. Buffy had laid out a pair of navy slacks and a blue button down for him. He had to smile; she always said she loved his baby blues. And because of that he had an assortment of blue shirts in various shades. Seemed it was all about Buffy, wasn’t it?
Putting on some cologne – also her favorite—he stepped out into the living room and found her applying lipstick in the mirror on the wall. He stopped abruptly upon seeing her. God, she was gorgeous. She’d slipped on a loose fitting black spaghetti strapped dress that contrasted perfectly to her tanned skin. She wore strappy sandals to complete the ensemble. When she turned to him, she smiled brilliantly. “You look so handsome!” she gushed.
“And you,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes off her, “Look gorgeous.”
She waved her hand at him, dismissing the compliment.
“No, Buffy, you do,” he said adamantly, resisting the urge to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to his bed. Oh what he wouldn’t give to have her in his bed, making love to her, hearing her breathy moans, having her look up at him with those beautiful green eyes and knowing it was him that made her come undone.
“Thank you,” she smiled and slipped her lipstick in her black purse. “Ready?”
“Sure.” Not really
She took him to some underground club that she had heard about when she was living in Sunnydale, and had even visited once. William pouted that she had never bothered to visit him, but she informed him that she had been with someone at the time and he’d surprised her by taking her to the club.
It was Salsa dancing and as soon as William saw the writhing bodies on the dance floor, the men and women with their hands all over each other, William knew that they could not do this, or at least he could not do this. She’d know of his feelings the minute she put her hands on him.
“Buffy, I don’t know about this,” he told her hesitantly, staring at a young couple, the man having his hands firmly on his girl’s hips as she gyrated against him. The woman was looking up at him with a small smile, and her eyes spoke of encouragement and lust. God, William wanted that to be him and Buffy in the worst possible way and yet he feared it.
“Come on, I know just who you can talk to.”
“What?” he asked, startled, as she took his hand and they wove through the crowd.
“Alysha!” Buffy called and waved to a buxom brunette with dark skin and exotic eyes. She was quite beautiful in her red v-neck dress, but William didn’t want her and he hoped that Buffy wasn’t playing Emma.
The woman named Alysha gave Buffy a hug, smiling broadly and welcoming her back.
“I want you to meet William,” Buffy told her. “He’s my—“
“Friend,” William jumped in, not wanting anyone to know that they were related by marriage. “I’m her friend.”
Buffy nodded, asking him with her eyes why he did that and he just shot her a look that said ‘Trust me.’
“Any friend of Buffy’s is a friend of mine. What can I do for you?”
“Can you teach him how to dance?” Buffy asked sweetly.
Alysha gave him a once over and grinned. “No problem.”
Buffy giggled as Alysha took his hand and started to lead him off. He didn’t want to go with the woman! He wanted to stay with Buffy. Looking over his shoulder he found that she’d already attracted an admirer in the form of what appeared to be a tall, dark and handsome Latino gentleman. William’s blood boiled, but he didn’t have time to think as he was shoved up against Alysha’s well-toned body, her hips moving against him in a thoroughly erotic nature.
This was going to be a long night.
He’d lost sight of Buffy during Alysha’s instructions and when he nearly begged to get a drink, he was granted a reprieve. He was left with little doubt that Alysha was coming onto him, dancing aside. At least, she’d said as much anyway.
Weaving through the crowd, he scanned frantically for Buffy and when he found her, he felt a jealous rage come over him. She was writhing on the dance floor, laughing and smiling up at the Latino gentleman who had his hands all over her.
The primal male in him said Mine! and he lunged after her.
She saw him before he had a chance to get to her and she disengaged with the man she was dancing with and went to him.
“Having fun?” she asked. “Isn’t Alysha brilliant? She’s a great—“
“Who the hell is that?” William asked, jerking his thumb at the man that was heading toward the bar.
“Um, I think Rico… So, were you having –“
“What does he want with you?” William demanded, pulling her from the crowd and out into the hallway, dragging her down until they had some privacy.
“What do you mean what does he want with me?”
“His hands were all over you!”
“We were dancing!”
“You were practically fornicating on the dance floor!”
“William—“
He shook his head. “I can’t take it anymore, Buffy. I just can’t.”
“What are you—?”
But she never got to finish that sentence because William’s lips came smashing down on hers, yanking her body against his and engaging her in a passionate kiss to end all passionate kisses.
He moaned in rapture, finally able to taste her and feel her soft lips against his. She tasted of honey and . . . liquor. Had that bastard bought her a drink? William kissed her harder, and pushed her against the wall.
She pulled back a fraction, gasping his name and he used the opportunity to pepper her jaw with kisses, trailing down her long, lovely neck. Sliding his hands down and around her back, he pulled her flush up against him, letting her feel his burgeoning erection. She moaned, clutching at him, her nails digging into his shoulders, but he paid no heed. He didn’t care. He wanted her and he was going to have her that was the only thought circling his mind.
Pulling back slightly, he pushed her to a door that was just inches from them and thankfully it opened when he pushed. Taking her inside, he attacked her with kisses, nipping at her lips, sucking her bottom lip in his mouth the way he’d wanted to when she’d pouted at him the day before.
His hands traveled the length of her body, feeling her curves under them. Pushing the hem of her dress up, he circled round her navel with a finger and then down her thigh.
“William,” she moaned and, encouraged, he slid his hand inside her thong, pushing it aside and dipping a finger inside her slowly.
Christ, she was hot and wet.
“This for me?” he asked huskily, flicking her clit with this thumb lazily, back and forth, back and forth….knowing by look in her eyes that he was driving her insane with need. “Tell me you’re wet for me and not for him. Tell me,” he demanded.
”Yes…William…yes,” she murmured, her head falling back against the wall.
“Say it, say it’s for me.”
“For you, William, for you!”
He withdrew his hand and she cried out in frustration.
“Don’t worry luv, I know exactly what you need,” he told her huskily while he undid his pants, and yanked down his boxers. Pulling her against him once more, he pushed down her thong and pushed his way inside her, feeling the urge to cum immediately after being inside her for just a second.
“Oh God,” she whimpered.
“Oh, yes,” he hissed and slowly pumped with in her. She was scorching him with her heat, her juices coating his cock, her breathy gasps encouraging him.
“Oh, William…” she murmured, her head lolling back.
God, this was heaven. Her moaning his name…the feel of her slick walls sucking him in, so wet, so tight and so hot…this was bliss.
“Harder, Will, please,” she murmured.
Thrusting into her harder, he buried his face in her neck and nipped at her, feeling the urge to mark her, claim her as his.
He was pounding into her now and she was clawing her nails down his back, spurring him on with her touch and her moans.
Reaching between them, while propped up on one arm, William flicked her clit-- just once—and she screamed. His name. She screamed his name and that was all it took for William to cum, bathing her cervix with his seed.
He held onto her, pumping slowly and gently inside her as they rode their climaxes out, his head buried in her neck. His mind was clear except for the heavenly bliss of having Buffy in his arms and of being inside her. It was like coming home.
He felt it then. A change in her. She tensed all over. Pulling back, he found her eyes wide and filled with wonder and regret.
“Buffy—“
She pushed at him, yanking up her thong and righting her dress.
“Buffy, pet--”
But she ran from him. He started to go after her, and nearly fell over since his pants and boxers were halfway down his legs.
“Buffy!” he shouted as he yanked them up, buttoning his pants. Stumbling into the hallway, he found her already gone. Racing down and into the club, he searched high and low, asking around.
She’d left.
He swore, running a hand through his tousled locks. She didn’t know anyone but him in the city! Where could she have gone…where was she going to go?