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Part 2: The Stakes Of The Game



The doorbell rang just as I was finishing up my
"Buffy Beauty Regime". Which is nothing more
than a fancy way of saying that I'd showered off
the graveyard muck I'd collected from a run in with
a couple of new born vamps on my way home.

One of the little shits had actually managed to land
a punch that split my lip. I'll have to remember to
ask Giles how come these losers pop up out of the
ground with such handy-dandy fighting skills. I mean,
I can understand it if they'd been around for a while,
but these clowns were still brushing off the dirt and
picking mum petals out of their hair.

To make a long story short, the sight and smell of
my blood distracted them and I put the finishing
touches to them right then and there, getting it
over with quickly.

I didn't have time to play tonight. Not when my
vampire lover was coming to call, and me with a
bet to be won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I gave my hair a quick brushing, leaving it to
spread out around my shoulders. Spike likes my
hair down.

He's actually kind of obsessed with it. Whenever we're
alone, he makes a point of pulling out any clips, barrettes,
or elastics that I may have used, and refuses to give them
back until he's ready to leave.

Personally, I think it's kind of sexy that he feels that
way. I like the way he plays with it and touches it, and
when he buries his face in it and inhales the scent of
my shampoo...well, to be honest, it makes me weak in
the knees.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror at
the foot of the stairs, and was fairly pleased with
the view.

After thinking it over, I had decided to dress as
provocatively as I could. When I was in the shower,
all I could think about was how Spike's hands felt on
my skin and, to say the least, it made me incredibly
horny. Then I remembered that I wouldn't be getting
any of that good action tonight, and I went from horny
to depressed in 2.0 seconds.

So I figured I'd better go into this with guns blazing,
because to tell the truth, I'm not at all sure how long
I can really hold out.

Sure, I talk a good game and all, but
over the past few months, I've been treated to a
fulfilling and regular sex life. For the first time EVER!
It's going to be harder than hell (yes, I know about
Freudian Slips) having to do without. Vibrators are great
in an emergency, but when you're hungry it's hard to
settle for a hamburger after you've been dining on Fillet
Mignon.

So I wriggled into my tightest jeans and a nearly
transparent light green top, skipping the bra that I
usually wear beneath it.

My make up was light, but my summer tan was still
lingering a bit so I just dusted on a bit of blush and
a trace of mascara, and left it at that.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I answered the door with the nicest smile I had
available, which only got bigger when I saw him
standing there.

He looked so damn good. No matter what anyone
says about Spike, there's one thing you can't deny
or take away from him....he's fucking gorgeous.

Every part of him. His face, which looks like it's been
chiseled out of marble; his body, lean and strong,
with just the right amount of muscle and not an ounce
of fat; even his hair, so surprisingly silky when I run
my busy little fingers through it.

He's dressed in black...big surprise. The jeans are
tight, and the t-shirt looks as though it may have shrunk
a bit during the laundering process. It stretches across
his chest in the most appealing way.

Oh, and he's got on that dark blue shirt he was
wearing the night I finally broke down and admitted
that I wanted him as much as he wanted me.

God, I love that shirt on him. Not just because of the
pleasant memories it calls up, but because the color
darkens the already lovely blue of his eyes.

He smiled at me, and I heard the little devil that
popped up on my shoulder lean over and whisper
in my ear. "You're going to deprive yourself of THAT?
What, are you...nuts?"

I must be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What happened to your face?" Spike closed
the door and cupped my chin in his hand.

I had to force myself not to jump into his arms
and plant a long, hard kiss on him. Believe me, it
wasn't easy.

His eyes zeroed in on the small cut, and I was
happy to see that they glazed over just a little when
he saw the spot of dried blood.

Spike has a major yen for my most vital fluid.

I'll admit, I've been a bad little slayer at times by
giving him a taste here and there. I haven't let him
bite me...although I suspect THAT day isn't too
far off. A vampire's bite is a very erotic experience,
and if it wasn't for their tendency to drain people dry,
I'd highly recommend it.

But even though there's been no biting, I've let him
taste me.

One night, we were out on patrol...alone...and the
usual mayhem ensued. The vampire I was fighting
had sharp nails and he left two long cuts on my upper
arm before I dusted him.

When Spike was done playing, he finished his opponent
off and came back to me. A good fight always gets his
motor humming, and between that and the sight of the
O positive trickling down my arm...well, he was primed.

That was a night to remember. He just went wild on me,
shoving me up against the cold marble wall of some poor
schlub's mausoleum and practically tearing my underpants
off.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and he plunged into
me all the way. Even though he has an impressive cut
of beef between his legs, he's always considerate and
careful not to hurt me.

When it's fully erect, Spike's cock is ten inches long. Talk
about dying and going to heaven! Long and big around as
well, and does he know how to use it? Drives me up the
freaking wall and back down again.

So I was there, up against that icy marble, and he had
his hands under my ass to hold me up as he pounded
into me over and over again. He always makes me come
first before he lets himself go, and after he went off inside
me, he began licking the blood off my cuts.

And I thought it had been good BEFORE!

In no time at all, he was big and hard and ready...again. He
fucked me four times in fifteen minutes!

Like I said....a night to remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


From the way he was staring at my lip, I couldn't
help but feel that this contest was in the bag. No
way he'd be able to go without.

"Oh, I had my nightly spot of violence on the way
home," I explained. Turning to lead him into the
living room, I swung my hips a little more than I
normally do.

I don't know what I was hoping for. Maybe that he
would throw me over his shoulder and carry me
upstairs, admitting that I had won the bet without
firing a single shot; or maybe that he would slip his
arms around me and pull me down on the sofa, then
kiss my 'ouchie' all better.

Whatever it was, I didn't get it. His hands stayed shoved
in the front pockets of his jeans.

"So, have a seat." I pointed at the armchair across from
the sofa.

He did as I asked, leaning back and folding his arms
across his chest. "You ready to talk terms?"

"I'm ready if you are." I think....

He gave me one of those little half smiles of his. "Right,
then. Here's the wager. I say that I can go longer without
sex than you can..."

"Fat chance," I interrupted, snickering.

"Shut up and let me finish. You seem to be under
the misguided notion that you can outlast me. I'm
gonna prove you wrong."

I tingled all over when his eyes were once again drawn
to my puffy lower lip, and I ran my tongue over it.

"Loser is whoever begs first," he said distractedly.

"Deal!" I held out my hand to shake on it. "So...WHEN
I win this bet...what do I get?"

"Hmm?" He shook his head and took my hand. Didn't
shake it, just held it, rubbing his thumb caressingly
over the back. "Oh. What do you want?"

What do I want? What a loaded question!

I can't answer it honestly, or the game will be over
before it gets rolling. Mulling it over briefly, all I can
come up with is the hackneyed cliche of....

"Breakfast in bed. For a whole week."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? You
honestly want me to come over here before the
bloody sun comes up...and feed you?"

It's sounding better and better.

"You heard me, blondie. I want your undead ass
over here every morning for seven straight days.
You cook...you serve it to me in bed...and you
clean up."

After staring at me for a minute, he smiled
suggestively. "Well, there's nothing I like better
than servicing you in bed...."

Settle down, heart! Keep breathing, lungs!

"...so, all right."

Maybe I can get him to serve it to me naked. Oh,
I have GOT to win this bet!

"Not that you have a snowball's chance in hell,
but what do you want if you win?"

I had to ask!

TBC...

Part 3: The First Card Played





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