“You think that’s funny?” he asked, grinning and pointing at her. “Just you wait, my lioness,” and he started stalking her.
Squealing, she took off, running in the water away from him. He laughed as he ran after her, gasped as she fell, and then braced himself as he tripped over her. The sound of her continuous laughter let him know she was all right when he resurfaced. She sat up to her waist in the warm ocean water, her hair soaked and stringy and her tank clinging to her pert breasts, outlining them for him, and her skirt rode up to her mid thigh.
“You look like a water nymph,” he breathed huskily.
She stopped laughing and cocked her head to the side. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen many?” she teased.
“Yes—Well, pictures of them.”
She smiled and stood, her skirt falling back down. She held out her hand to him. “Come on.”
He took her hand, wet as it was, and stood. They were mere inches apart and she gazed up at him. She reached out to push some of his curls away from his forehead and it was like watching her in slow motion. He held his breath and his eyes drifted shut as he leaned in to her touch. He thought he would fall apart at just the simple gesture of her hand moving down the side of his face, caressing him. His eyes flew open when he felt her lips touch his.
Buffy was kissing him was the repeated mantra in his mind as she kissed him softly, sweetly and much too quickly. He stood straight as a rod, unsure of what to do. How was this possible? His uncle was the God of Love, he himself was a well known ladies man – at one time—and he was struck dumb by this slip of a mortal woman.
“Thank you,” she whispered when she pulled back, putting some distance between them. He stared at her, letting her words settle over him.
“For?” he nearly croaked.
“For this vacation.”
He shook his head, and in the process sprinkling her with water. “Don’t thank me . . . like that.”
“I wanted to.”
“You don’t have to,” he told her.
“I know,” she said simply and his eyes widened.
“Buffy—“
“I wanted to,” she said again and he finally caught the meaning. What she was saying and what she was doing were not related. She thanked him for the vacation, but her actions were not because of gratitude. She kissed him because she wanted to. He stood there, staring at her. She gave him a soft smile bordering on embarrassed, and walked away.
What are you doing just standing here? Spike reprimanded himself. Why aren’t you going after her? Coward!
Buffy looked over her shoulder; Spike was still standing there, the waves crashing around his knees.
Had she gone too far? Should she have not done that? She’d thought he would have reciprocated. She thought he would have liked –what? A broken woman like her? You’ve pretty much told him how pathetic you were with the men you chose, and the lack of friends you have, not to mention the nosedive your business was taking. Why would he want you? He might care for you, but he cares as a friend and you just crossed a line, she thought bitterly.
Tears mingled with the saltwater dripping down her face and she took a shuddering breath, getting ready to run back to their townhouse and far away from Spike when she felt herself being brought up against a solid chest.
“Pet,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, “No it’s okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I crossed a line and –“
He spun her around. “No, you didn’t cross a line,” he shook his head. “You shocked me. Buffy, I . . . I never thought you’d do that and then you did and . . . I thought I was dreaming,” he finished on a whisper.
“You thought of me kissing you?” she squeaked out in shock.
“So many times.”
“Oh,” she said, dazed.
“Can I kiss you now Buffy?”
She nodded, still dazed.
Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned in until their breath just mingled and he gazed into her eyes, watching each emotion flit across them and watched her eyes grow greener as he stared at her.
Darting out his tongue, he traced her bottom lip and she whimpered, her eyes falling shut. He smiled and dipped his head, pressing his lips against hers to which she immediately opened her mouth and he delved inside, languorously tasting her, exploring her mouth. Her own tongue came out to play and he groaned, delving his hands into her hair and bringing her against him, letting her feel just how affected he was by her and how glad he was that she had done that.
Buffy broke away when the sensations running rampant through her became too much. She thought she was ready for this, hell, she’d thought she was so ready that she was going to seduce him and tease him. But this . . . the feeling he invoked in her was overwhelming. The things she felt in that kiss—he might as well be the wave knocking her over.
She started to move away and he stopped her, held her fast. “Don’t go,” he told her.
“Spike,” she said, feeling a tad panicked.
He held her fast. “No, Buffy. Don’t run. You’ve got nothing to run from, nothing to fear from me. I won’t leave you like them.”
Tears dripped from her eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
He wiped her tears away gently with the pads of his thumb. “Don’t be,” he whispered. “I won’t let anything hurt you. Do you trust me?”
She swallowed and took a deep breath, nodding.
Spike took her in his arms and held her. “I’ll hold you and care for you. . . I won’t push you for anything and won’t ever make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
Buffy held onto him tight. “I’m still scared.”
“I know, kitten,” he told her and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I am too.”
“You’re not afraid of anything.”
If you only knew, he thought. “I’ll hold you tonight kitten? Can I do that?”
“Please,” she whispered, nodding adamantly.
“For as long as you’ll let me,” he whispered back. Or as long as my uncle will.