Buffy looked around the gallery taking in the vast number of people who had shown up for Tara’s exhibition.
Willow was there, looking proud as punch of Tara, who she had recently started dating. Faith had also come and had introduced Buffy to her fiancé, Robin, a good looking black guy who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her best friend.
Unfortunately, having all those loved up people around her only made her think of Spike and she was trying her hardest to put him out of her mind, in the hope that her feelings might eventually fade or at least reduce in their intensity.
Taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, she headed towards her friends who were standing talking to Lilah Morgan, a wealthy art collector.
“Buffy...”
The sound of her name being uttered by an all too familiar voice halted her progress, her heart leaping and then sinking as she turned to see Spike emerge from the milling crowd, his hair artfully mussed and looking as though he’d just climbed out of bed.
What was he doing here? She had begun to hope that his lack of communication since they parted ways at the airport over a month ago – even by email which had been their chosen method of contacting each other when they were on opposite sides of the Atlantic – would eventually make it easier to end their arrangement without ever disclosing her true feelings. Although given that he remained blissfully unaware of said feelings, there was really no reason for him to think that she’d be anything other than happy to see him now.
“Spike,” she said, trying to smile. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wanted to see you, luv. You look beautiful as always.”
Her white cocktail dress was a Valentino design, a slightly guilty purchase from one of her many recent jaunts in the name of retail therapy.
“Thanks – you look great too,” she said, hating him for looking so…so Spike.
This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t stand here with him and pretend that everything was the same between them. She needed to put a stop to this before she did something stupid like let him touch her when she wasn’t sure if she’d have the willpower to resist him.
“I need to talk to you,” Spike said, interrupting her thoughts.
“What about?”
He seemed different somehow and Buffy couldn’t help but feel a flutter of apprehension in the pit of her stomach.
“Not here. In private.”
Buffy nodded her assent and motioned for him to follow her into her office where he pushed the door shut behind him, before he spoke.
“I’ve missed you, luv…”
He would have made to pull her into his arms then if she hadn’t stopped him in his tracks with her next words.
“Spike, I don’t think this is going to work anymore.”
He frowned. “What isn’t?”
“This…us…you and me...” she trailed off, trying to find the right words. “Look, we rarely see each other – we live on different continents and we both have such busy lives, me with the gallery and you with your job…”
“Isn’t that how you wanted it?”
“Yes, it was,” she agreed. “But the circumstances have changed.”
“You’re right, they have,” Spike agreed, moving closer to her so that she had no choice but look at him. “Buffy, I l...”
Buffy cut him off. “Look Spike, this exhibition is really important to Tara and to the gallery and I should be out there with everyone.”
“Buffy…”
“Spike, I’m sorry that it has to end like this, but I really do think that it’s for the best.”
Allowing herself one final luxury, she reached up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away and leaving the room.
He wasn’t going to give up that easily, Spike decided as he stood outside the door to Buffy’s apartment later that night. Although he’d used the code to gain elevator access to her private foyer, given their current impasse, he didn’t want to use his key to invade her privacy.
Buffy opened the door at his knock and her eyes widened when she saw him standing there. Had she really expected him to just accept her termination of their arrangement and hightail it back to London?
“Spike, what are you doing here?”
She was still wearing that amazing white dress that looked both virginal and provocative and his cock hardened at the memory of what lay beneath it.
“We need to talk,” he said, moving past her to enter the apartment.
She shut the door and turned to face him, exasperated. “Spike, I’ve made up my mind…”
“And I don’t get to have my say?”
Buffy sighed. “What do you want, Spike?”
“I want you…I want to strip that dress from your beautiful body and remind you exactly what it’s like between us,” he murmured as he moved closer. “Cause unlike you, luv, I’m not going to pretend I’ve forgotten.’
She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but her tongue felt as though it was glued to the roof of her mouth. He backed her up against the door and she became intensely aware of his hard, male body beneath the designer suit.
Spike was annoyed at her for acting like he’d just been a convenience to her that she could pick up and drop whenever she wanted, like there hadn’t been a connection between them and he was determined to show her, to crack her façade.
He took hold of her hand and his thumb began tracing a lingering path along the delicate veins crossing her wrist and then up her arm, his fingers leaving a searing imprint as they travelled upwards.
“Stop it!” she cried, pulling her arm away.
He grinned. “You’re so beautiful when you’re angry, luv.”
“Please, Spike, just stop doing this!” she begged him. “We had a good time together but it’s over now…”
“Because you don’t want me anymore?” he enquired, still smirking. “You and I both know that’s a lie, pet. You’ll always want me.”
“In your dreams!”
He leaned closer and the familiar scent of him teased her senses. “They’re remarkably vivid. How about yours?”
*Technicolor with sound and emotional effects*
“I don’t dream about you!”
He raised an eyebrow. “Now why don’t I believe that?”
His eyes roamed over her body, making her feel as though he’d touched her and her skin tingled beneath his probing gaze. Her nipples rose in shameful arousal, fire coursed through her veins and her cheeks flushed with a mixture of temper and desire.
He reached up and before she could stop him, he’d slipped the straps of her dress from off her shoulders and watched it slide to the floor. A raw groan was torn from his throat when he realized she was only wearing a skimpy pair of white lace panties.
She made a move to cover herself up, but he was close enough to prevent her, taking hold of both wrists with one hand and keeping them pinned above her head. She gasped as he ran the pad of his thumb over one taut nipple and felt torn between the desire to feel him inside her just one more time and the certain knowledge that it would only add fuel to the feelings she was trying so hard to overcome.
She hated herself for her lack of resolve – this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. After leaving the Dominican Republic, she’d been determined to conquer her feelings and move on with her life. She hadn’t figured it would be so hard, that every night she would be plagued with Spike-filled dreams. Getting over him was turning into a nightmare.
Their eyes locked and his intense blue gaze mirrored the fierce desire she could feel engulfing her body. And as though some magnetic force was pulling her to him and she was powerless to resist, they suddenly came together, their lips meeting in feverish urgency.
“Damn it, Buffy. Tell me you want me. I have to hear you say it!”
“I want you!” she gasped against his mouth.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her down the hall to her bedroom, where he set her down on the bed and after pulling off his clothes and her panties, he covered her with his body. She was more than ready for him and when he thrust himself inside her, they both gasped at the sensation, their pleasure heightened by the time they’d spent apart.
“Buffy, luv, you feel so good…”
“Oh, Spike…”
It wasn’t frantic, but it didn’t need to be. The feeling of being together again like this was so incredible that neither of them could last long. They both came quickly, trembling in each other’s arms, with Spike gasping out the words that he’d been longing to say all night.
“Buffy...I love you.”
Buffy froze, praying that she was hallucinating. She wasn’t.
“Don’t stay that…”
Spike sighed. “Buffy...”
“Please, Spike, don’t…”
Pulling away from him, she got up and covered her naked body with a robe.
“I can’t help the way I feel…I’m drowning in you, luv.”
“You have to,” she said, wringing her hands. “You promised me when we started this whole thing that you weren’t going to fall in love with me.”
“Why do you care, pet?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “You made it pretty clear tonight that our arrangement is over so why does it matter to you how I feel?”
“It just does.”
“You want to know what I think?” Spike said as he got up off the bed. “I think you love me too. And I think you’re just too scared to admit it.”
Repeating the words his mother had said to him, he could see exactly what she’d meant. He and Buffy were like two peas in a pod when it came to avoiding their true feelings.
“You’re wrong,” she insisted. “I don’t love you, Spike. What we had – it was enjoyable for us both, but good sex is good sex.”
“Is that all you thought it was?” he asked. “Technique?”
“I never asked for it to be anything else.”
Standing in front of her, he took hold of her arms. “Look at me, Buffy.” Grudgingly she turned her head to meet his eyes. “If you throw this chance away, luv, then we’ll both be losing out on something we could have for the rest of our lives.”
“Damn you, Spike.” Pulling herself from his hold, she turned away, tears pricking her eyes. “I was doing fine. Until you came here tonight intent on telling me how you feel and never considering how it would affect me, the pain it would cause me, hearing you say those words…”
“I don’t play around on jet skis.”
Buffy stiffened. “That was uncalled for and unfair.”
Spike sighed, regretting his insensitive words in his determination to make her see, make her understand what they could have together. “Tell me what you want, Buffy. What you really want.”
“I just wish things could be how they used to be. Simple. Uncomplicated.”
They couldn’t go back; it would be impossible to do so now that he’d realised the depth of his feelings – and hers if his assumptions were correct. “And what about love?”
“Love?” Buffy asked, her voice betraying a hint of scorn. “The everlasting kind? I had that once and it nearly killed me when I lost it.”
“Life doesn’t come with a guarantee.”
Buffy didn’t know what to say. She could barely even think with everything going on in her head – not to mention having his gut-wrenching declaration on auto replay and the fact that her treacherous body was still throbbing from their recent lovemaking.
Spike could tell that she was dealing with some serious inner conflict. A battle between the lingering pain of losing her husband and her own unwanted feelings. He couldn’t force her to admit how she felt. That was her own struggle. He’d made it clear to her how he felt and now he could only hope that she would find the strength to finally stop running.
“Buffy, I love you and I always will. I know it hurt you to lose Angel and you’re afraid that if you let yourself love me then you’ll lose me like you lost him. But I’m not going anywhere – I hate to disappoint you, luv, but I’m here for the long haul.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This chapter was a bit of a trial which is why its taken a bit longer to post. I had part of Buffy and Spike's conversation planned in my head but it was a little more difficult getting it down on paper as it were. Please let me know what you think.