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Chapter 7

Lips collided with the corner of her mouth, her upper lip. He had missed the lower one, and Buffy assumed it was because his eyes were squeezed shut. However, seconds later, once his mouth fully clamped over hers, she wasn’t so sure that he’d made a mistake. His kisses were deep, impatient and extraordinarily thorough. Every stroke from his probing tongue was precise and deliberate. He knew exactly what he wanted. He knew exactly what he was doing; he was trying to swallow her up whole.

Buffy strained, she tried to pull away from his demanding mouth, but that just caused him to yank her closer. Hands were everywhere, on her waist, the small of her back, and tangled in her hair. She was molded against him, forced to rest against his body. With his height only a few inches above her own, she was determined to ignore the fact they fit together perfectly. Hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest, and nose-to-nose.

“Stop,” she managed gasp. “Stop it.”

She had to get away. She twisted her head out of his reach and groaned once he lavished her cheek, her chin, and down her neck with velvety soft kisses.

“Spike, this is crazy. Get off.” Her fingers clutched handfuls of his hair. She planned on prying him off, but once his eyes locked with hers, all her plans were shot to hell. She held on tightly as he launched a second attack. These kisses were different. They were slow, tender, and almost sweet.

They made Buffy’s heart ache. It didn’t matter that her arms were wrapped around Spike’s neck. She moaned. She trembled. She kissed him back, completely dazzled. She loved the way he made her feel. She felt beautiful, cherished. She hadn’t felt so treasured since the last time he kissed her nearly a year ago, when they were both victims of a spell that had them convinced that they were engaged. And now, with no magic on which to blame their actions, a flash of fear interrupted her pleasure.

“Spike,” she began, jerking her mouth away. “Stop.”

“You’re amazing.” His eyes were sparkling. He smiled at her. “You taste so sweet, Slayer.”

“Spike.” He was too close. She was still cuddled in his arms and uncomfortably aware of the leg that he’d nudged between her knees. “Let go,” she said, pressing her hands against his chest. Mindful of the wounds she’d cleaned the night before, she applied just enough force for him to know that she’d hurt him if it were necessary. “Now, Spike.”

“Alright, alright.” He released her and stayed slouched against the wall of the building. “I’m sure you want to talk about this.”

“No.” She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to run, to hide until every kiss was nothing but a distant memory.

“But we need to talk about this, Buffy. We kissed.”

“We’ve kissed before. It wasn’t a big deal then, and it won’t be a big deal now.” She shrugged, but her heart was pounding.

“Well, that’s bullshit. This is a very big deal. There wasn’t a spell involved. You kissed me back. You enjoyed it just as much as I did.”

“You’re wrong.” She wished she sounded more confident. “It was a mistake,” she said. She walked backward until she was out of their dark secluded corner. “It’s almost nine. Harmony--.”

“Harmony can wait. I couldn’t care less about Harmony.”

He followed her out of the shadows. Buffy was surprised by how disheveled he looked. His hair was messy—thanks to the trail marks left by her fingers, and his shirt had been pulled and stretched—again she was at fault.

“Shit,” she muttered, her hands went up to smooth her hair. If he looked that tousled, she must look terrible.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “You look beautiful. You’ve got more color in your cheeks. Your lips are full, just like two…two lips,” he finished with a roll of his eyes. He made a point to stop himself before he said anything too pathetically poetic. “You’re glowing, Buffy. You should be kissed more often. It suits you.”

Buffy melted—but only just a little. He didn’t have to be so flattering…

Stop it, stop it, she thought as her heart continued to pound. This is Spike. Spike.

“I should be kicking your ass for touching me.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you a minute ago.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, you bonehead.” It was one of her weaker insults, but it’d have to do. “A few kisses don’t change anything--.”

“A few more will.”

“No,” Buffy said. He took one step forward and she took three steps back. She cursed silently, finding herself in their dark corner once again, but this time she was up against the wall with her arms stubbornly crossed.

“I knew this’d happen. I knew if you’d let yourself go, even for one bloody second, you’d act exactly like this. Fine, be that way. Act as high, mighty, and as bitchy as you want. It won’t make a bit of difference, I’ll feel the same way.”

“And what way is that? Stupid? Entirely suicidal?”

“Why should I bother enlightening you if you haven’t figured it out already? Perhaps I should show you. Maybe it’ll sink in this time?”

She did nothing as he moved closer. He cupped the side of her face. The pad of his thumb gently stroked her cheek. He studied the curves of her scowling mouth, and Buffy glared at him the entire time.

“You’re all I ever think about, you know.” His voice was low and seductive. “Dru, Harm, they all saw it before I did. I was the last to know.”

He kissed her lightly and bit his lower lip once he pulled away. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but Buffy could feel a mixture of excitement and relief radiating from his body.

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve imagined this. Even in my fucking dreams you would’ve kicked me in the head by now.”

“That can still be arranged.”

He chuckled. He took her face in both of his hands as if he’d never held anything so precious.

And then he kissed her.

And she kissed him back.

He uncrossed her arms; he made sure no space was left between them. He held her wrists as he playfully brushed and rubbed his lips against hers. He took his time, turning and twisting so he could get a taste at every angle.

“Buffy, I love you.”

Her eyes popped open. She didn’t even know she’d had them closed. Surely, he didn’t--.

“God, I love you so much.”

Oh God, oh God, she thought, her mind racing. She wanted to scream, suddenly mortified and flooded with self-loathing. Without a second thought, she shoved him away. Hard. Taken off by surprise, he fell to the ground with a grunt.

“Stay away from me,” she spat.

“Alright, maybe I shouldn’t have--.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have.” With the back of her hand she wiped away his kisses. “I shouldn’t have. This whole evening has been a total joke!”

“Come on. It hasn’t been so bad.”

“It’s been worse.”

“Well, that’s rot and you know it,” he said while picking himself off the ground. “We talked. We had actual conversations--.”

“Yeah, we also fought, argued, and I got your tongue shoved down my throat.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Buffy. If you’d give us a chance--.”

“Us?” she snorted as if she hadn’t heard anything more ridiculous. “There is no ‘us.’ There will never be an ‘us.’”

“Never say never,” he mumbled while patting imaginary dust from his jacket. “You’ll be a fool in the end.” He looked down at his boots for a moment before allowing their eyes to meet. “We could have something here.”

“Other than a potential disaster?”

“Something other than that,” he sighed. He rolled his eyes and his hands found their way back into his pockets. “Guess we should call it a night. There’s nothing I can say or do, right? You’ve shut down. I’m talking to nothing. I might as well be talking to the bloody—to the bloody wind!”

“I couldn’t agree more. Go away.”

He shot her a dirty look before turning his back. He didn’t go far before he stopped abruptly. “This will not go away. Deny all you want, play pretend—make believe that nothing happened if you must, but I will see you tomorrow. And the day after that. And it’ll be awkward, maybe even painfully so, but I will try to kiss you again.”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide. Her nose flared and she swallowed

She watched him until he stalked across the mall’s parking lot and out of sight.
***





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