Many thanks to gypsy jin for helping me out with some of the plotting. ::claps:: Yay! I finally wrote it!
And to Tristan…I better see a review. ; - )
Spike couldn’t sit still. He was so amped up from the show that he was twitching. Add Buffy wiggling on his lap to the mix and you got one animated guy.
“You were really great out there,” Buffy told him, her fingers playing with the wet curls at the nape of his neck.
“Oh?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
What he wouldn’t give to be upstairs in their room right now. Not that he was sure she’d let him do anything, but at least he could try. Down here in the dressing rooms they had no privacy.
He wasn’t sure what had caused her sudden ease with him; however, he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nope, he would just enjoy every second she wasn’t shying away from him until she went back to her old ways.
“They’re lettin’ in those radio winners. Look sharp,” Oliver said as he poked his head in the door.
Spike groaned. Normally, he enjoyed these little contest things where a couple people would win tickets and backstage passes over the radio. The Dingo’s fans were the greatest and he liked letting them know how much they were appreciated. But now? When things were progressing so well with Buffy?
No.
But he would do it anyway. These fans were his bread and butter and they honestly loved the band’s music. He wasn’t going to turn them away like some other musicians might just because he was being a little selfish.
“Radio winners?” Buffy asked, her brows coming together.
“Yeah, they won tickets and backstage passes to meet us,” Spike replied, smiling a little when he saw her frown. Aw, does baby not want t’ share?
“How long do those normally take?”
“Depends. Last year, we took of them on tour with us.”
Her eyes went wide at that. “What? You took a girl on tour with you after she won a chance to meet you?”
For cryin’ out loud, not the bloody groupie thing again.
“Wasn’t a girl. His name was Ryan and he was a great bloke. Sold an article about it to Rolling Stone after the tour ended,” Spike told her.
She at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little jealous.”
His eyebrows shot up. Did she just admit that she was jealous? Jesus, now he really wanted to know what had happened to her out there.
“Jealous? Why?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe because you have girls screaming that they want your baby.”
He started laughing, he couldn’t help it. She was talking about that woman at the concert, but she probably wouldn’t be too happy to find out that he got that a lot. More than any other guy in the band, he was always getting fan mail and screaming women at concerts wanting him to be their sperm donor.
Of the lot of them, Spike wished he could get the kinds of letters that Oz got. The guy only got poetry and quotes on philosophy with an occasional ’your music really speaks to me’. He’d switch fan bases with that guy any day.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like the attention or the overzealous women, but it really clashed with his wanting to keep a committed relationship. He saw it with Dru and now with Buffy, that all they could understand was that women were falling at his feet. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t interested or that he’d never touch another woman while he was with them, they thought he was dipping into the groupie river.
With Dru, it had pissed him off something fierce because she was in the business. She would get fan letters with men sending her nude pictures and writing about detailed sex acts. He’d seen on the television all the time the way she was groped at and not once did he ever say, “I think you’re screwing that guy.”
Of course, he recongized now that she would assume he was having sex his fans because she was.
But Buffy didn’t know any better and he felt compelled to try and have a little more patience with her even though it was still hard on him to think she didn’t trust him.
“And yet, who am I with, luv? Who am I lettin’ sit on my lap while she squirms so much that I’m ready t’ explode?”
Her cheeks turned red. “You’re ready to explode?”
“What do you think?” He raised his hips a little and let her feel how hard he was, grinding into her soft bottom.
At her gasp, he grabbed the back of her neck and brought her down to his lips. The kiss was rough and full of need. He wanted her to feel what she did to him. Shoving his tongue between her lips, he caressed the warm cavern of her mouth.
One hand moved down to grasp her ass, squeezing a firm globe with his fingers. He pulled her towards him, making her straddle his thighs. She was incredibly willing and Spike felt his heart soar a little.
“Only you, baby,” he whispered against her sweet pink lips.
Just as he was about to start with some heavy petting, the door opened again and Oliver stood there, blinking.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He asked and Buffy bolted away from Spike so fast that she almost fell off the chair.
“Not at all,” Spike replied through clenched teeth.
“Good,” Oliver breezed. “Got the contest winners out here and they want to see you.” He was practically singing it out. Bastard really got his rocks off irritating him, didn’t he?
Plastering a fake smile on his face, Spike said, “Send ‘em in.”
At first, Buffy could tell that Spike wasn’t very thrilled about hanging out with the contest winners. But after ten minutes, his whole demeanor changed and he looked like he was really enjoying himself.
There were three winners. A thirty-something woman with bright pink hair and arms full of tattoos named Randi. Then there was a younger guy, Seth, who was so shy that Oliver had to coax every syllable out of him. And last, but not least, a grandmother of two, Ella.
None of them fit the groupie label and Buffy was actually pretty impressed with their intelligence. When she thought of what her definition of fan was, she was shocked to realize that she envisioned them all as hot chicks who wanted to ‘do’ the band and geeks who collected every album and all the merchandise.
God, how crappy was she? These people were nice and she was sure that none of them had any interest in ‘doing’ the band.
She supposed her preconceived notions came from Dru’s fans. Since she was involved with the horror genre, the majority of her fans were quite creepy. Even her fan letters were of the sick and twisted nature. They were weirdos and sex fiends.
“So, how did you like the concert?”
Buffy turned to see Randi looking at her with curiosity.
“I loved it!”
“Have you been on the tour with them long?” Randi asked.
Buffy shook her head. “No, this is my first show.”
“Wow, must be exciting.”
“Yeah, it is,” Buffy told her.
Glancing over at Spike, she gave him a smile while he talked to Ella. She could see mischief dancing around in his bright blue eyes and she wished she could go upstairs with him.
She was still not ready to have sex with him, but if they were alone, they could explore each other a little more. And she was ready for that. It felt so good to sit on his lap and just be with him.
Part of the reason she was so apprehensive about going to the next level with him was that her last relationship had ended not long after it had begun. Things were great with Parker in the beginning. They talked, went places, and he seemed like he was a really great guy. Even someone she might think about forever with.
But that all stopped once she had sex with him. The dates became fewer and fewer. He stopped calling. Eventually, he ended things with her after stringing her along for a few weeks, telling her that they weren’t compatible enough.
Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she wasn’t good enough and if she had sex with Spike, he would be disappointed and not want to be with her. It was stupid, but she couldn’t make the fear of losing him go away.
She was in far deeper than she wanted to admit and there was so much to lose.
After a half an hour of talking to the radio winners, they had to say goodbye. Spike gave Ella a big hug and told her to send her grandchildren’s picture to him.
They gave the winners a bunch of autographed stuff, t-shirts and cds, before sending them off.
“I liked them,” Oliver said, picking at some lint on his jeans.
Spike nodded, glancing over at Buffy. “So, luv, you ready t’ go upstairs?”
“Yep. Ready when you are, Captain.”
Standing up, he kicked Oliver in the shin. “See you tomorrow, mate.”
“Yeah, I got a cute little brunette waiting for me, so I best be off as well.”
Buffy rolled her eyes as she walked over to join Spike in the trek back upstairs. “Make sure you use something, Olie,” she called out as they left the room.
“Okay, Mum!”
The trip up to the room was made in silence and it wasn’t until they were safely in the suite that Spike finally said something.
“Gonna go take a shower, ducks. I’m filthy,” he told her, sitting down to take off his boots.
“Okay. Are you hungry? I could order something,” she asked, plopping down in the couch next to him.
“Sounds good.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “See you in a bit.”
When he reached the bathroom, he turned on the shower and fiddled around with the taps until he got the right temperature. He stripped down quickly, peeling the clothes from his wet and sticky body.
The hot water felt good on his skin, sending shivers through him. He let the water run over his head as he scrubbed shampoo into his scalp. It was time to bleach it again. He’d been letting it grow out from sheer laziness and he really hadn’t thought about it much until Ella had mentioned it.
Maybe he could show Buffy how to do it so he wouldn’t have to find someone while they were on tour.
His eyes closed at the thought of her running her hands through his hair. He loved feeling her hands on him, the way they touched and teased. There wasn’t anything better in the world than her touch, he was sure of it.
He could feel his cock rise to attention and he groaned. This was crazy. She was making him hard all the time now. Even when she wasn’t in the same room with him, all he had to do was think about her and he was gone. Did she know? Did she know how much he wanted to be with her?
Gritting his teeth, he let his hand slide down his stomach to grip the base of his erection. His thoughts went to the night before when she’d gone down in him, licking and sucking, blowing his fuckin’ mind. Up, down, up, down, gliding over his cock like warm velvet.
“Oh, Buffy,” he rasped out, bracing one hand against the cool tile of the shower. His hand continued to move in long strokes, mirroring her actions from last night.
It wasn’t enough. The memory of her was too blurry and he was desperate for release.
Suddenly a sound echoed in the bathroom and he opened the sliding glass door to find Buffy leaning up against the wall, touching herself.
That’ll work.
Buffy picked up the phone to order room service. She played with the menu as she waited for the operator to pick up.
“Good evening, this is Mandalay Bay Room Service, how can I help you?”
“Oh, hi. This is Suite 124 and I’d like to get something sent up, please,” Buffy told the operator.
“Sure. What can I get for you tonight?”
“Um, can I get the shrimp caeser with some garlic bread? A diet Coke and…” Crap! She had no idea what Spike wanted.
“Miss?”
“Oh, sorry. Can I call you back? I have to figure out what Spike wants,” Buffy said.
“Absolutely. Do you want me to have them start on the salad?”
“Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”
Buffy hung up the phone and padded across the plush carpet to the bathroom door. She knocked softly, not wanting to scare him. “Spike?”
Opening the door, she poked her head inside. He was in the shower, the glass door hiding nothing from her curious eyes.
Whoa! Hello, sexy!
He was lathering his hair and she watched in rapt fascination as soap suds trailed down his lean body. Oh, to be a soap sud! After rinsing his hair, he turned to face the showerhead, letting the water run over his face.
She realized that this was a huge invasion of his privacy, but she couldn’t get her legs to work. All she could do was stare as his hand started downward towards his now-erect cock. When did that happen?
Her breath caught as he started sliding his hand up and down the solid length of himself. Tingles shot through her body and she felt a familiar throbbing begin between her legs. Oh, this wasn’t right. She should leave now, right now…
A fingertip ran along her bottom lip and she sucked it into her mouth. It quickly left her mouth and trailed a wet path to one hardened nipple, circling it through the material of her shirt and bra. A little moan escaped her as her finger moved once again, now on the direct course of her hot center.
She looked up again, seeing Spike quicken his pace a little. It was mesmerizing; the long up and down stroke moving at such an intense speed that she couldn’t follow it.
Her hand slipped under the waistband of her jeans and panties, over the course curls, and slid down to cup her wet pussy. She cried out at the sensation of her fingers pressing down on her clit. Oh, it felt so good.
Rubbing herself in small circles, she could feel the waves of pleasure rocking through her. Her fingers gathered up some of her wetness and continued rubbing her throbbing clit.
“Oh, Buffy.”
Her eyes popped open. He was thinking about her? A bolt of intense desire zapped her, spreading over her body like warm honey.
All of a sudden, she lost her footing on the slick tile floor and struggled to keep herself upright, her free hand thumping against the wall. If she didn’t feel ridiculous already…
Her eyes went up to the shower, going wide when she saw Spike standing there, naked as the day he was born and still holding onto his cock. His gaze was hot and wild, making a shudder go through her.
Never leaving eye contact, Spike began stroking himself again, bracing a foot on the edge of the shower.
Did he want her to…? By the look in his eyes, she would have to say yes. But she couldn’t, could she? That was way beyond the perimeters that she had set up. Although, technically, it wouldn’t be having sex and she had wanted to explore with him.
With a smirk, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. She could hear his audible gasp and looked up to find him stroking himself harder. Moving to hook her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear, she was stopped from pulling them down at the sound of his voice.
“Leave ‘em on, pet,” he whispered thickly.
Her eyebrows went up, questioning, but she did what he said. She cupped herself, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit, her fingers stroking through the cotton of her panties.
She moaned, feeling the pressure building within her. Her fingers moved upward to rub against the hard little bundle of nerves, sending pleasure rolling over her.
“That’s it, baby,” Spike said roughly. “Now slip one o’ those fingers into that hot quim.”
Like she was under a spell weaved by his voice, her index finger slipped under her panties and into her wet entrance, making her cry out. Her back fell against the wall as she pumped her finger in and out of her tight channel.
“Spike!” She shouted out as her orgasm suddenly overtook her body, shuddering uncontrollably.
Her eyes opened just as Spike roared out his completion, jerking as ropes of come spurted out. Slowly, their bodies began to come down from their mutual high and Spike slumped against the shower door.
“Bloody hell, pet,” he panted out.
All she could was nod in agreement.