Title: Acting The Part
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: AU. William St. James is
an actor in a hit television show. While
appearing at a fan convention, he meets
Buffy and her six year old daughter, Melanie.
Part twenty...
"A double X?" she said, trying to look appalled at the
very idea. "Mr. St. James...I think you're trying to corrupt
me."
He grinned, showing no repentance at all. "Corrupting
you is going to be my new favorite thing to do."
Deciding to turn up the corruption a few notches, Buffy
rolled onto her stomach and stretched invitingly. The
swiftly drawn in breath she heard him take told her she
was having the right effect.
His hand curved around the swell of her bottom, fondling
and caressing it softly. "Beautiful," he murmured.
She turned to look at him, her hair falling in her eyes
as she reached for his hand.
Unsure of what she had in mind, he allowed her to
pull and nudge him until he was on top of her, his chest
pressed against her back.
A quietly explicit curse word fell from his lips when
she lifted her bottom a little and rubbed it against his
groin.
Before she could say anything, William leaned forward
to whisper in her ear. "You want it like this, baby? From
behind?"
Being asked such a question would once have embarrassed
her, making her blush and duck her head. But when William
asked it, it took on an erotic flavor that she was beginning
to enjoy far too much.
She did want it like this, from behind. This was no time
to be shy about it.
Peeking over her shoulder at him, she smiled in what she
hoped was an enticing manner. "What do YOU think?"
If the look on his face was any indication, he thought it was
a splendid idea.
He sat up and nudged her legs farther apart, then moved
up her body and began massaging her shoulders. It felt
so good that she couldn't hold back a moan of pleasure.
William chuckled. "You sound like a kitten purring." His
hands...his wonderful, skillful hands...continued down her
body, stroking and rubbing until she was as limp and pliable
as melting wax.
He purposely avoided an intimate touch as he slid his
hands further down, caressing her rear and the tops of her
thighs.
When she was certain that she couldn't wait one more
moment, he lowered himself on top of her, pushing her
down into the mattress. His erection nestled between her
thighs, slick and hot.
"Lift up a little, babe," he directed her.
She elevated her lower body a couple of inches, just
enough for him to slip one hand in and play with her.
Her eyes drifted shut, and she dug her fingers into the
pillow she was lying on.
"Do you like that? Does it feel good when I touch you
like this?" He used one finger to stroke her clit, stim-
ulating it to the point of madness.
'Feel good' didn't begin to describe it. She actually
couldn't come up with a phrase that would be more
on the money. Her head was too dizzy and her body
was in a tumultuous free fall. All she could do was nod
and whimper some sort of agreement.
He seemed to understand what she was trying to get
across. Sliding down just a little, he moved into position
and slowly began penetrating her as he continued
massaging her clit.
Instinctively, she raised her bottom, letting him slide
all the way in with one stroke.
"Oh, god," he groaned in her ear, nipping at it. "I can't
get over how tight you are...how wet."
With her cheek pressed against the soft cotton pillow
case, Buffy could only sigh.
He bore her down under his weight, pinning her to the
bed. "This is the way it was meant to be," he said. "For
us. Knew it....the minute....I saw you...oh, Buffy...you feel
so damn good."
They performed a lazy and erotic dance together, pushing
and pulling, gasping and moaning. His lips trailed softly
over the back of her neck, nipping at tender skin.
When he sensed her need, he pulled out and rose to his
knees, tugging her hips back and up to meet his next
thrust.
She keened softly in her throat while his hands moved
up and down her back, stroking her like a cat.
His thrusts became a little harder, and she knew that
the finish line was in sight. Determinedly, she pushed
back into him, meeting his pumping hips.
Their bodies surged and writhed together in a wave of
sexual heat. He was driving her wild, caressing her with
strong hands as he uttered husky encouragement,
begging her to push back harder, make it tighter, let
him all the way in.
Then, when she almost there, he reached around with
one hand and rubbed her clit firmly, sending her over the
edge into a mindless whirlwind of release.
He followed right behind, forcing himself not to shout
her name into the silent house.
When it was over, the sagged together in the middle of
the bed, panting, trying to catch their breath.
William was the first one to lift his head. "You okay?"
"Mm-hmm. I'm very much okay."
"I was afraid I was being..."
"Being what?"
Gingerly, he pulled out of her and moved to one side. "Too
rough...you know...towards the end."
Buffy took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "No. You
weren't."
He took her hand and kissed it. "I just...I don't ever want
to hurt you. You're so small."
"I may be small," she told him, "but I'm pretty tough." Her
brow furrowed. "Was that why you moved? Because you
thought you were hurting me?"
"Well..." he shrugged. "A little, maybe."
Buffy smiled. She appreciated his consideration and care,
but it was hardly necessary. Years of lying beneath a man
who was taller and much stockier than this one had con-
ditioned her for just about anything. William's slimmer
build and slighter weight never made her feel as though
she was trapped under a fallen redwood.
"I promise you weren't hurting me," she assured him. "I'd
tell you if you were."
Returning her smile, he let the subject drop and pulled
her close again. "This time YOU set the pace."
Buffy's eyes widened. "You mean there's more?"
"Oh, there's a LOT more. I'll do anything you want
me to, for as long as you want."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Hmm...you should be careful offering that. What if
it's something really perverse?"
His smile turned playfully lecherous. "I'd count my
blessings."
**************************************************
Sunday morning started way too early for Buffy
when a six year old crawled into bed next to her and
announced that she was hungry.
After pushing, pulling, and nudging her mother into a
sitting position, Melanie stood next to the bed and grabbed
her hand, tugging and giggling as Buffy feigned sleep.
When her hand slipped out of Melanie's grasp, she fell
backwards on the bed again, wrapping her arms around
a pillow and burying her face in it.
"Mommy! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Melanie chanted,
clambering on top of Buffy and sitting on her upper thighs,
bouncing up and down.
"Why?" Buffy asked plaintively, injecting as much 'whine'
as she could into her voice. "Don't wanna wake up. Wanna
sleep."
"You can't sleep anymore. You gotta fix breakfast."
"Why?"
"Because you're the mommy. I can't do it."
The little girl yanked on the pillow, then scooted up
and pried one of Buffy's eyes open.
"Have some cereal," Buffy said. "You can do cereal."
"But it's Sunday."
"So what?"
"Pancakes, Mommy. Pancakes, pancakes,
pancakes," the child sing-songed.
Before she could start bouncing up and down on
her again, Buffy shifted her daughter to one side,
tumbling her down on the mattress, then went in for
the kill with all fingers wiggling.
Melanie shrieked with laughter as her mother found
all her ticklish places and gave them a good work
out before breakfast.
**************************************************
"Mommy?"
"What, baby?" Buffy turned the page in her newspaper,
studying an advertisement for a sale on children's under-
wear at Sears.
"Are we still going to Disneyland?" Melanie asked, her
voice slightly garbled from the bite of pancake she was
still working on.
"Don't talk with food in your mouth, Melanie," Buffy said
automatically.
She'd tried the old "don't talk with your mouth full" routine
on Melanie once, a request the child had immediately disputed
by showing her mother that her mouth was only half full. Un-
fortunately, Buffy found it difficult to scold the little girl when
she was having trouble controlling her laughter.
Melanie made a show of swallowing, then repeated her
question.
'Yes, honey. We're still going. He promised, didn't he?"
"Uh-huh." Melanie stabbed another bite of pancake and
dunked it in the pool of syrup on her plate. "I believe him."
"So do I." Reaching for the scissors, Buffy began clipping
coupons from one of the booklets they stuffed in Sunday's
papers. She was carefully cutting along the dotted line of a
75 cents off coupon for laundry detergent when the phone
rang.
Melanie jumped out of her chair and reached for the
receiver with sticky hands.
"Hello?....Oh, hi, Gemma." She looked over at Buffy. "It's
Gemma."
Buffy forced herself not to roll her eyes. Angel's mother so
completely disliked being called by any variation of the name
'Grandmother' , that she'd insisted on Melanie using her first
name instead.
After a brief conversation with her grandmother, Melanie
handed the phone to Buffy.
"Hi, Gemma, how are you?....Really?....Congratulations...I
guess that's good, right? I don't know much about golf...Uh-
huh....Wow....Um, no." She turned around to face the all
and lowered her voice. "Not for over a week...He had to cancel
his weekend with Melanie....Not much of one....Just the
usual....Well, have you tried his fax line?....What about that
girl he's seeing?....Already?....Yes....I'll let you know....Me?
Well, yes....actually, I am.....Not long....No, no, he doesn't."
She'd had just about enough of this phone call. The last
thing she wanted to be doing at the moment was answering
Gemma's nosy questions about her private life.
"Gemma, I have to go....Yes, I'll tell him....You, too....Okay.
Bye."
Buffy replaced the receiver, then went into the kitchen to
wet a paper towel and clean off the sticky fingerprints Melanie
had left on it.
She stood at the sink, watching the neighbor's cat walk along
the fence that divided the property.
The fact that Angel hadn't called his mother lately bothered
her just a little. For all of his faults as a husband and father,
he'd been pretty good about staying close to his mother, es-
pecially after his own father had died so suddenly of a massive
stroke.
Gemma was the helpless, clinging type of wife who had
depended on her husband for everything. Liam Conner had
married her young, and had continued to treat her like a child,
no matter how old she got. He'd doted on and spoiled her to
insane lengths, providing her with a brand new car every year,
enough designer clothes for ten women, jewelry, furs, a check-
book with an unending supply of cash, and a credit card for
every upscale store on the west coast.
When he'd died, Gemma had transfered her dependency from
her husband to her son. Her daughter was practically ignored,
and they'd drifted apart years ago.
But now, Gemma hadn't heard from Angel in over a week.
Where the heck had he disappeared to?
"Mommy?"
Startled out of her thoughts, Buffy looked down and saw
Melanie standing next to her, holding her breakfast plate.
"You want another pancake, baby?" she asked, reaching
for the bowl of batter.
"No, I'm full."
Buffy exchanged the plate for the damp rag she had in her
hand, asking Melanie to please go and wipe the syrup off the
phone.
**************************************************
After the breakfast dishes were done, she threw on a
pair of jeans and a sweater, then went down the hall to
Melanie's room.
She found the child sitting in the middle of the floor,
dressing her dolls in their 'party clothes', and singing
quietly to herself.
"A peanut sat on a railroad track
His heart was all a flutter
Round the bend came number 10
And toot-toot, peanut butter.."
"Want to go to the store with me, baby?"
Melanie looked up and smiled. "Okay."
Buffy opened the closet door and pulled out a blue
sun dress, as Melanie wriggled out of her pajamas.
After running a brush through her daughter's hair,
she waited patiently while Melanie tackled her
shoe laces. It took three times as long to get her
ready to go, but she was so pleased with herself that
Buffy was willing to wait.
They stopped at the mall for a few minutes, just enough
time for Buffy to check in with Willow and go over the
work schedule for the following week.
In the market, Melanie trailed behind Buffy, pushing a
child size shopping cart. She filled the basket with small
items Buffy handed her, and pulled a huge handful of
coupons from the automatic dispensers for things Buffy
had no earthly use for.
After loading all her groceries on the conveyor belt, she
grabbed a copy of TV guide and flipped through it while she
waited to be checked out.
Her fingers turned the pages quickly to the Wednesday
night listing and she found herself face to face with an
advertisement for that weeks episode of 'Outpost: Space';
an advertisement that had a very attractive picture of the
show's lead.
She couldn't help the little shiver of possessiveness that
chased up and down her spine, caused by the knowledge
that this man, one that thousands of women ached for in
very private places, was her lover. The memory of what he'd
done last night in her bed was enough to make her cheeks
turn scarlet.
Melanie tugged on the hem of her sweater. "Can I see,
Mommy?"
Buffy handed over the TV guide, then began digging around
in her purse for her checkbook.
**************************************************
She had just put Melanie to bed, when the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi, beautiful. How are my two favorite girls?"
Smiling, she stretched out on the sofa. "We're fine. We had
a not-very-productive day. How are you?"
She heard him release a heavy sigh. "Tired. I spent the
day with the writers and producers, after not getting much
sleep last night."
"Oh, what a shame."
He chuckled. "I was kept up most of the night by a very
beautiful and sexy lady."
"You were?"
"Oh, yeah. And demanding, too."
"Demanding? Really?"
"Mm-hmm. Insatiable. She couldn't keep her hands off
me."
"William!"
"What?"
"I seem to remember your hands not staying where they
belonged."
"Not true. My hands belonged all over you...and that's
where they were."
Deciding to change the subject, Buffy said, "We found a
picture of you in this weeks TV guide. It's now residing in
Melanie's wall gallery."
They talked for a few more minutes, then he told her that
he'd made arrangements for their Disneyland trip, but wanted
to check her schedule first before he finalized them.
"I would think your schedule would be harder to work around
than mine."
"Not really. We're filming the season finale this week, after
that I'm free for about...oh, a month and a half or so."
"That's nice."
"Yes...and I'm planning to spend a lot of that free time with
you, baby. And a certain little girl. If you'll have me, that is."
If she would have him? If?
"I'll definitely have you...I mean WE will. Both of us. Stop
laughing at me....you know what I mean."
"I know what you mean. Listen, I'll try and call tomorrow,
okay?"
"Okay."
"Goodnight, darlin' Sweet dreams."
Tonight that was going to be a sure thing.
TBC....
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