Throughout the day, Spike made a conscious effort to behave around Buffy. It wasn’t easy for him though, especially given what she chose to wear. A divine form hugging black skirt with fancy pleating that flared out at the very bottom, and a snow white sheer blouse with ruffled lace draping off its long sleeves which - although she had a respectable camisole underneath to tastefully cover herself – did nothing to hinder his imagination. And she wore her hair down, which was a first for the workplace. All those golden waves that bounced when she walked, so soft and shiny in appearance, the scent of her shampoo that invaded his nostrils every time she flipped it over her shoulder when sitting next to him… he wanted to lose himself in it, to nuzzle it with his face as he held her, twine his fingers around the silken strands and…
He sighed. No, she definitely wasn’t making it easy for him at all. She had no bloody idea of the effect she had on him either, and on so many levels. God help him, too, but he didn’t even want to count the number of times he had to adjust himself whenever she bent over at any angle. But that was another thing he adored about her, her obliviousness. She never seemed to notice his struggle to control his desire for her.
Speaking of oblivious, when she left the office for a moment, he made sure to phone his friend to find out how his ‘favor’ was coming along. He was paying a pretty penny for it to be sure, but in his mind, Buffy was worth every last cent. And it seemed lady luck was indeed smiling on him when his buddy guaranteed it would be delivered directly to him at work before noon tomorrow. Now all he had to do was make up an excuse concerning their morning meeting scheduled for tomorrow, one that would allow him to stay behind and keep her out of the office so she wouldn’t see his surprise until he wanted her to.
If his plan within his plan worked, he’d not only keep her out of the evil clutches of Angelus, but he’d also have her all to himself this weekend. No, he didn’t expect anything to ‘happen’ between them if he succeeded – of course he wouldn’t say no if it did either - but the time they’d be spending together was what he was looking forward to the most. And he hoped it would go a long way with her as well, maybe even bring them closer together as a, as a... what? Couple?
What was he thinking? That when they finally brought the house down they would end up playing footsy under the rubble, read the morning newspaper together? Er, wait. They already lived together. She was around him all the time, damn near twenty four seven at that. But oddly enough, he didn’t really mind, had even grown accustomed to it. They shared the same space together, ate meals together, chatted all the time, watched the telly together and sometimes even fought like a ‘couple’… if he didn’t account for the fact they slept in separate beds and she was currently seeing The Great Poof.
If only Angelus were out of the picture, would it be so bad if they… if he and she… No. She’d never want that… not with me anyway. And bugger if that didn’t smart. But is that what his heart was trying to tell him he wanted? Or was he just plain daft for entertaining such a silly, emotional notion?
~~~*~~~
Friday afternoon……..
Buffy still didn’t understand why Spike made her go by herself to their client meeting. He said he didn’t feel well but he looked alright to her at the time, seemed okay this morning at home, too. She yawned as she got on the elevator. The meeting dragged on longer than what she considered the norm and she wished Spike had been there. As much as she hated to admit it, things did tend to go a lot quicker and smoother when they worked together. I must be going insane, she decided as she thought for a few fleeting seconds that she’d actually missed him. Noooooo, missed him being at the meeting, like he should have been. Nothing more than that.
But, oh God, what if he really is getting sick? Snyder was out for three days in a row this week with a stomach virus and just came back to work today. So it wasn’t that far-fetched that Spike could have caught it.
She wasn’t starting to panic or anything, nope, she’d just ask if he felt nauseous and if he said yes, she’d suggest he go home. Then she’d have to try and stay as far away from him as she could so she didn’t catch it. Yeah, right! Who was she kidding? If he was coming down with what Snyder had, he’d be an even bigger baby than when he had a cold. Probably use that stupid pout on me, too, because he’d want her to take care of him, and as sure as the sun rose every morning, she’d wind up giving in. She knew she couldn’t say no to him, not when he genuinely needed her.
When she finally walked inside their office, her concern for him stopped short upon the bright - and somewhat devious - smile he wore.
“I thought you said you weren’t feeling well?”
“Worried `bout me, pet?” She hmmph’ed and added a ‘you wish’ as she set her briefcase aside but he could tell she had been, making his already great mood skyrocket. Opening a drawer and pulling out the box he wrapped himself, he stood, being sure to keep his surprise behind his back as he approached her.
“What are you up to?” she asked hesitantly, crinkling her brow. He grinned like he was immensely pleased with himself over something, making her more than a little uneasy.
“Me?” he asked innocently. Shrugging, he removed his hands from behind his back to hold up the bright red box with its neatly tied white ribbon. “Happy Birthday.”
Her stomach did a little flip-flop inside but she was confused. “It’s not my birthday, Spike.”
“It isn’t?” He feigned surprise. “`M sorry… thought it was.” Oh, he knew her birthday wasn’t until June, but she didn’t know he knew that. When she suddenly started to fidget and act shy, he lied through his teeth and prayed she didn’t call him on it. “Thought I overheard you sayin’ somethin’ to Cordelia a few days ago `bout it bein’ your birthday this week.”
She didn’t remember saying anything like that to Cordy, so he must have misinterpreted whatever it was he’d heard. But as she eyed the box, it was touching to think he’d gotten her something, even at the cost of deceiving her that he might be ill. “You… you really thought it was my birthday? You bought me something?”
“Of course, luv. Couldn’ let my girl’s birthday go by without gettin’ her a present, now could I?” He let his smile drop before sighing as if defeated and turned to walk away. “But… since it isn’, I s’pose I could return it.”
“NO!” He froze and all she could think was jeez, over anxious much, Buffy? “No, I’ll… can I… can I have it anyway?” she asked timidly.
Smiling wickedly that his plan was beginning to work, he composed himself before turning back around to face her and said, “On one condition… since it isn’ your birthday.” She eyed him suspiciously but her gaze kept shifting to the package in his hands, looking like a kid the way her eyes were all lit up at the thought of receiving a present. And this time she can’ accuse me of tryin’ to ‘buy’ her, this bein’ a legitimate birthday present an’ all… at least as far as she knows.
“And what’s that?”
“I’ll tell you after you open it.”
“I’m not so sure,” she stated cautiously. “Sounds like you’re trying to trick me.” Knowing him all too well by now, she was sure he was up to something.
Throwing a hand up, he told her, “Honestly, `m not. How could you think I’d…” After she raised an accusatory brow, he smiled sheepishly and admitted, “Well, normally I would, yes, but not this time. The condition is innocent `nough and I think after you see what I got… you won’ mind agreein’ to it.” She still looked wary but he held onto his hope.
“Alright. But I reserve the right to renege if I don’t like the condition, understood?” If he suggests anything remotely perverted, he’s dead.
“Understood.” Nodding, he handed it to her and tried to contain his mirth as she tore into it and gasped out loud.
“Oh-my-God! H-how, when did, no… HOW… oh-my-GOD!!!” Opening the jacket to the DVD set, she inspected it thoroughly to find it contained every single episode of Blood Ties to include those that hadn’t even aired yet. That did it, she couldn’t contain herself, jumping up and down as she squee’d excitedly. Hell, she’d agree to anything he wanted she was so pleased.
Before he could smile, she knocked the breath out of his lungs when she threw her arms around him in a bear-hug, kissing him repeatedly on the cheek. He kept his arms held away from her though, not wanting her to think he had an ulterior motive, even if he had. No sense in having a repeat performance like that over the commission checks when his lips landed in the wrong place, now was there?
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Giving him one last kiss, she pulled away so she could ask about his stipulation. “And the condition?” Please let it be something I can say ‘yes’ to. She’d hate to have to give it back.
This was almost too easy, but now he had to launch phase two of his plan. “That you and I spend the day havin’ a Blood Ties marathon. Complete with popcorn, beer, junk food, whatever you want.”
“That’s it? But… why?”
“Been curious `bout the series, but I didn’ want to start watchin’ it in the middle so…” He swept a hand towards the present she clutched tightly to her chest. “Best place to start is the beginnin’. That is if you don’ mind since you’ve already seen most `f it.”
“Wow, uhmm, okay.” She never suspected he was interested in the show and it threw her off for a minute. But what did it matter? He’d given her the entire series and she so wasn’t about to tell him no. “So when do you want to do this?”
And here came the crucial part. “Tomorrow, seein’ it’s Saturday and all.” Oh, he expected the frown that suddenly appeared on her face, but he kept up his ruse when asking, “Wha’s the matter, luv?”
“I was supposed to go and… with...” She trailed off, deep in thought. Of course Spike had no idea she was going away with Angel tomorrow, her intention was to tell him about it tonight after work. But now, with his gift and his ‘condition’… well… this was Kyle Schmid after all! Hmmmm, Angel or Henry, Angel or Henry? The choice was pretty clear in her mind, Henry it is!!! She’d call and cancel with Angel once Spike wasn’t around, tell him maybe next weekend, that something unexpected came up that needed her attention. She gave Spike a goofy grin. “You’re on, Mister. Consider it a date.”
“It’s a date then,” he confirmed. A date! He had a ‘date’ with Buffy. Er, well, not really when considering it was under their own roof. But he got what he wanted most… to have her all to himself and far away from Angelus. He’d probably go buggering crazy after hour number four of watching Buffy drool over that Henry git, but it’d be worth going through just to spend time with… Nah, mate. He couldn’t go there and reminded himself he was only doing this to protect her.
~~~*~~~
Later that evening as Spike watched Buffy settle down to watch the telly, he wondered if he couldn’t convince her to get out of the apartment for awhile. She spent nearly every night doing the same boring thing, that is, whenever she wasn’t out with Peaches.
“Hey! I was watching that.” Spike surprised her when he went over and shut the television off and stood in front of it with his arms crossed, glaring at her.
“And now you’re not.”
“Blood Ties is coming on in an hour and you kn-”
“Tomorrow, remember? Now…” Walking over to where she was comfortably curled up on her side, he bent over and took her hands, bringing her upright despite her groan of protest. “You’re turnin’ into a couch potato, luv. I say le’s go out tonight.”
“I already did.”
Shaking his head, he pulled her to stand. “Willy’s doesn’ count.” Placing her hands around his waist, he laid his forearms loosely on her shoulders and began moving to an imaginary beat. “`M talkin’ `bout a real place, maybe do a li’l dancin’, yeah?” He curled his tongue behind his teeth, coaxing her into following him then grinned when she started chuckling. “Come-ooooon. When’s the last time you danced, hmmm?”
Still letting him lead her around, she sighed. “I used to go clubbing in college but that was years ago.” Her answer made him stop moving as he eyed her seriously.
“Tha’s it. We’re goin’.” His girl really needed to learn how to have some fun every once in a while. Tugging on her elbows, he tried to pull her towards the hallway but she resisted and dug her heels into the carpet.
“Spiiiiike,” she whined. “I really don’t feel-”
“No arguin’!” He turned to face her, his voice softening along with his expression. “I promise you’ll have a great time.” Getting her to loosen up would be to her benefit and the thought she might actually dance with him? Definitely worth dragging her out, kicking and screaming if necessary.
She snorted in response, the sarcasm in her voice heavy. “Yeah, until you get a stiffy for some random woman and then you’re gone and I’m left by myself.”
Did she really think he’d do that to her? Then again, she’d been on the receiving end of his insensitivity several times, so he really couldn’t blame her. “Not gonna happen. Not interested when I’ll have the prettiest girl there with me.” He swore her eyebrow arched so high it was nearly a quarter of an inch from her hair-line.
“Seriously?”
It sounded more like a statement than a question, one of which he’d be damned if she didn’t believe him. “I’d never leave you by yourself.” He spoke softly in sharp contrast to the strong determination he felt inside to convince her. Her brow furrowed and he could tell she was contemplating whether or not to go. Well, he didn’t want to give her the chance to say no, so again he began pulling her towards the hall, this time successfully. “Come on, Goldilocks. Promise I won’ leave your side, please?” he pursed his lips.
“Fine. But just for a couple of hours.” Ughh. She really wasn’t in the mood for this but Spike had a way about him that made her cave. Stupid pout!
~~~*~~~
Buffy was surprised when Spike kept his word and remained by her side. Perhaps a little too close at times, but she brushed it off so she could enjoy her buzz and because he’d steered away a few drunken creeps for her, saving her the trouble of having to get nasty with them. She found his method not only effective but somewhat endearing as well… even if by all rights she should be annoyed by the show of testosterone. Like I can't protect myself? But since she was tipsy and actually enjoying herself, she just grinned and let him do as he pleased, deciding not to let anything put a damper on their outing.
Whenever anyone approached her, he promptly wound a protective arm around her as if she were his possession and glared at them challengingly, daring them to take one step closer. She had to admit, he did have an imposing presence, a foreboding, almost dangerous air about him dressed all in black like the first time she’d met him… disarmingly handsome with those striking cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, his masculine scent mixed with a hint of leather… Not like she was truly paying attention to him like that, even if a small part of her whispered that the way he looked tonight was nearly as intoxicating as her drink. Angel, you’re dating Angel, her ever growing fuzzy brain tried to chant.
Meanwhile, Spike was in his own personal hell. Sure, he got Buffy out alright, unwound, chatting and laughing with him, but too many blokes were looking her way and pissing him off. He didn’t hesitate to show she was there with him, whether or not it was true in a romantic sense didn’t matter, and still the swarm of bloody wankers jus’ don’ get the picture! They were like flies drawn to her honey, drinking in her curves accentuated by the little red halter top she wore. Then again, maybe it was the black leather pants that hugged her slender hips and delectable arse, or the long flowing hair that framed her face with those beautiful eyes outlined in smoky charcoal, making them stand out like emeralds. Bloody hell, it was everything about her. She screamed ‘sex’ without even knowing it and he knew he couldn’t blame the poor fools hoping to catch her eye. He was, after all, one of them. Yeah, but she chose to come here with me. His jaw clenched as he tried denying the jealousy that tore through him.
After being there an hour and a half, what he wanted was to dance with her, have her arms wrapped around him, move to the music with her, get close enough to feel the beat of her heart… But she said ‘no’ when he’d asked early on, claiming she wasn’t in the mood, yet he swore he could sense her body humming with the need to sway to the rhythm.
He proved himself correct when halfway through her fourth whiskey sour, a song came on she obviously liked and she lip-synced the words while staring across the dance floor. Fascinated, he watched her mouth move, thinking the chorus somewhat fitting… at least for him.
Well I’m not paralyzed
But I seem to be struck by you
I wanna make you move
Because you’re standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You’ll probably move right through
Me on my way to you
Oh yes, the words definitely hit close to home for him. And she tortured him further when she started to shimmy her hips back and forth, bumping into his lightly every time, until she abruptly stopped to point towards something, or rather someone.
“Hey, isn’t that Owen?” She thought she recognized their driver from work. “It is! I’m-gonna-go-say-hi, be-right-back.”
She spoke quickly and was gone in a flash, never noticing the number of heads turning to watch her as she walked away before Spike could utter a word. Who the bloody hell is Owen? It didn’t take him long to figure it out as his eyes followed her and she stood talking before the tall guy who usually chauffeured them to their meetings. He didn’t like the way the git’s face lit up when she took his hand and they moved onto the floor to begin dancing together. Oh, so she’s ‘not in the mood’ to dance with me, but after seein’ him, she suddenly is?
“Why do I get the distinct feeling I’m treading on someone else’s territory?” Owen asked Buffy as they moved to the music.
“Huh?”
“Your boyfriend there.” He directed a glance behind her to indicate who he meant, watching her look over her shoulder.
She immediately honed in on Spike’s threatening stare that was directed not at her, but Owen. Turning to face her dance partner, she rolled her eyes. “He’s just a colleague.” At his ‘sure could have fooled me’ look, she became somewhat irritated. “Trust me, there’s nothing going on between us despite what you saw that one day.” As if to prove her point, she pivoted so her back was to Owen and danced more provocatively, inviting him to a little innocent bump and grind.
The tune began to fade before it ended, the slower beat of a new one bleeding in to take over. Adjusting the sway of her hips, she closed her eyes and raised her arms above her head, waiting to feel Owen hands on her sides. She never saw he’d backed away in fear as a furious looking Spike swiftly stalked towards them with a menacing gleam in his eyes, duster billowing behind him.
When he stood directly in front of her, ready to ask what the bleeding hell she thought she was doing, she surprised him by running her drunken mouth, eyes still closed; completely unaware he was there to hear her.
“My boss, he’s just… too much twisted steel and sex appeal for me.” Yeah right, keep lying to yourself, that same whispery voice from earlier came back to taunt her.
Shaking off his initial shock at her words, he outwardly smirked while gloating inside. And why shouldn’t he? Didn’t they say children and drunks always spoke the truth? Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her close and breathed in her ear, “Nothin’s too much for you, kitten.” He chuckled when her eyes instantly bulged from their sockets like a ‘jack-in-the-box’. Boy did she have one of those ‘oh shit’ looks on her face, knowing she was busted.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=3tyRNWeqhik
She recovered as quickly as her inebriated mind allowed her and gave him a pout, trying to change the subject. “You chased Owen off.”
Amused at her antics, he decided to let her off the hook, leaning in towards her ear again. “That doesn' mean you have to stop dancin’… now does it?” he purred.
Weak in the knees and speechless didn’t begin to describe the effect that deep voice had on her right now, whether she admitted it or not.
You make it hard to breathe
It’s as if I’m suffocating
The will or want to resist his touch also fled in the wake of his warm palms trailing up her sides, gliding sensuously along the skin of her arms to reach her hands still raised above her head. Ever so gently, he lowered them to his chest where they found their own way around his neck at the same time his sought purchase about her waist.
They both felt the reality behind the words being sung hit them as they surrendered to the beat, bodies coming together so close they could feel every pulse, every breath, every tiny tremor the other elicited from the intimate contact.
And when you’re next to me
I can feel your heartbeat through my skin
Buffy felt too hypnotized to do anything but follow his lead, thinking my God, can he ever dance. Either that or she was physically unsteady from the alcohol and he was merely holding her up, which at the moment, seemed like a plausible explanation. Yeah, Buffy, and De-nial is just a river in Egypt!
And Spike felt like he was struggling not to overstep the boundaries Buffy had so clearly drawn concerning their relationship. Oh, he wanted to step over that line, jump to the other side, wanted to rub himself erotically against her body and blame it on the rhythm of the music. But he couldn’t. She was clearly drunk and trusted him, even if only a fraction. He cursed himself when thinking if this were the ‘old’ him, he wouldn’t have held back, would have engaged the woman in his arms right now long before she’d drank too much and seduced her without a second thought.
It makes me sad to think
This all could be for nothing
I wish there was a way
For you to see inside of me
But he knew her now, was in deeper than he was able to recognize or accept, couldn’t think of what would happen were it anyone else but her… and were he anyone else other than the stranger he’d become whenever he was in her presence. It was frightening to him, being this stranger, but it felt like he’d gained a, a… ‘spark’ - for lack of a better term - something he never had before and only now realized he’d been missing all along.
I’ve never felt this way
About anyone or anything
As the words filtered through his ears, he found more than a sliver of truth in them, and however disturbed he felt over this private realization, it didn’t stop the uninvited questions that rose within him... Was he kidding himself over what he’d originally thought he wanted? Was it really only lust he felt for her? And if he ‘had’ her, sexually, then what? Would he be able to move on if he were allowed a single night of her full acceptance? He already knew she wasn’t the kind of woman a man just used then left as if nothing happened, and knowing that suddenly brought with it a very profound and personal revelation… that one night with her would never be enough for him. But was he ready for something more?
Tell me
What do I have to do to make you happy?
What do I have to do to make you understand?
What do I have to do to make you want me?
Lowering his mouth near her ear, he hoped to purge himself through the lyrics, a way of exonerating himself like a confession, made easier because she probably won’ remember it in the mornin’ anyhow, he thought with a trace of sadness he didn’t care to analyze the reason for.
And, if I can’t make you want me
What do I have to do?
Whatever it took, he had to get this absurd notion out of his head, the inane idea he could ever mean anything to her. He was beneath her.
I’m not as selfish as I used to be
That was a part of me that never made me proud
She’d said it herself, that he was ‘beneath’ her, that he was ‘absolutely nothing’ to her, and he briefly wished he could find a way to make her see him differently, to change her stubborn mind. Her stubbornness `s not without good reason, mate. He hated doubting himself, but this time he knew he was right to.
Right now I think I would try anything
Anything at all to keep you satisfied
Laying her cheek against his shoulder, Buffy was lost in a river of confusion, her clouded mind trying to make sense out of what she felt as his rich voice resonated through her body, denying any swooning on her part as she listened to the words wash over her. It was like he was speaking to her, pouring out his heart. Pffft, more like trying to get you to bed now that you’re all ditzy… But she knew she was wrong, she’d been drunk with him before and he’d never been anything but a gentleman during those times.
God I hope you see what loving you would do to me
All I want is one more chance, so tell me...
What do I have to do to make you love me?
She wasn’t in the right state of mind to be drawing any conclusions, though; to think what he sang was a reflection of his own sentiments, to question if he was singing to her or just plain singing. Her eyelids felt heavy as she raised them, her sight instantly landing on Owen who was leaning against the bar, watching her, and what she saw on his face was the same expression as when they’d danced together… ‘you could have fooled me’.
I’m here to have a good time, she reminded herself, not to create… issues out of thin air. Air, she needed air. Air good, she thought, and much distance from the temptation of Spike. Temptation bad. The song hadn’t yet come to an end, but it was close enough and she disentangled herself from his embrace… a little too rapidly for her own good.
“Whoa-there, luv.” Spike had to steady one very wobbly-legged Buffy. Her coordination was non-existent from the whiskey she’d ingested and the fact it finally caught up to her. And since he had enough flowing through his veins as well, he felt it was best to go home, forget this dance and pass off whatever thoughts he’d had as nothing more than malt-induced imagination. “Le’s get outta here.”
“But you said *hiccup* you wanted me for some fun, er… for me to have some fun,” she whined as he dragged her towards the exit. “And I want *hiccup* another drink.”
“Not a wise idea, pet. Think you’ve had plenty for tonight.”
“You *hiccup* grumpy.”
“Am not.”
“Are too,” she argued with a pout while he helped her into her coat and then walked her outside.
He managed to hail a cab rather quickly and a good thing too, because as soon as they got inside she passed out, her face landing squarely in his lap with a soft ‘plop’. Pushing her upright, he placed her into a more ‘appropriate’ position, chuckling over the fact she was a cheap date when it came to buying her drinks. As the taxi took off, however, he quickly sobered when thinking about their dance and the costly dent it made on his confusing emotions.
After paying the cabby, Spike carefully picked Buffy up and cradling her close, carried her to the elevator. He had a few laughs on the ride up to their apartment from her incoherent mumbling and a few sleepy snorts whenever her head would loll backwards before jerking upright.
Since he doubted she could stand on her own, it was a bit of a struggle to hold her so he could use his key to get in, but he managed. Kicking the door shut behind him, he thought about just dumping her on the couch to sleep it off until morning. But when her hand found its way to his shoulder and she softly murmured his name while nestling her face in the crook of his neck, he just couldn’t do it.
Pulling her more firmly against him, she said his name again as he carried her down the hallway toward her bedroom.
“Spike.”
“Yeah, pet?” he asked, even though she probably wouldn’t reply. She took him by surprise though when her hold to him tightened and she began sniffing him.
“Mmmm, smell goooood.”
The little sigh of content that followed her compliment made him smile. Even drunk she was adorable. “Anythin’ else you like `bout me?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” she answered as he sat down on the bed with her perched on his lap.
He successfully extracted her limbs from her coat then slid her shoes off before pulling the blankets back. Her arms found their way around him again as he stood and prepared to put her to bed. After gently laying her down, readying to move away, she tugged on his neck until they were almost cheek to cheek and whispered something unexpected.
“Lips.”
His entire body froze except for his head. He immediately pulled back to face her, only an inch away from her mouth when asking, “`Scuse me?” He didn’t just hear the word ‘lips’… did he? She couldn’t possibly be in her right mind no matter what they said about drunks and the truth.
“Spike lips.” With her eyes still closed, she began nuzzling his face and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Mmmmm.... lips of Spike.”
Stunned beyond belief, he didn’t even have a chance to recover when she kissed him again, and again, urging him with her arms and little moans to kiss her back.
He remained motionless, in a state of complete shock, allowing her lips to play across his while trying his hardest not to respond but bloody hell, she was making it incredibly difficult for him to resist. And when she tilted her head to the side, her tongue sliding out to tease him into joining her, he broke. For a brief moment he was lost, couldn’t help himself and simply gave in.
They shared small, tentative licks in a slow exploration of one another’s taste and texture, testing how good it felt when their tongues mirrored the other’s movements, matching perfectly. It was so soft and so very sweet, so far from being the harsh, passion-filled fusing of mouths he’d imagined it would be. That’s when he pulled away from her, intense guilt like he’d never known flooding his system.
He shouldn’t have taken advantage of her, even so much as a kiss, not when she was so vulnerable. Even if her subconscious was telling him right now that she wanted him, she would still never do this when sober.
Frustrated, guilt ridden yet moved by this tiny woman all at the same time, he silently wondered wha’s it gonna take, but more importantly, what has she done to me? He ignored her whimpers of protest when removing her arms from his neck and tucked the covers up under her chin. Giving her a light kiss on the forehead, he whispered, “Goodnight, sweet girl,” and left her room.
