“So,” Spike clapped his hands together. “What did you get?” Buffy crooked her finger at him to follow her into the kitchen and began pulling things out from each bag, one by one.
“Tissues, nasal spray, Nyquil, Dayquil, menthol bath-tabs, cough drops, Vick’s Vapor Rub, chicken soup…”
As she rattled off the list of items she’d bought, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The chit must feel really bad judging by the fact almost everything in both bags was for him.
“-and I bought stuff to make spaghetti tonight. It’s one of the few things I don’t end up burning. Not exactly a cook here, so don’t expect much.”
“Sounds perfect, pet.”
And for the rest of the morning, Spike soaked up all the attention Buffy lavished him with like a greedy sponge. She made him rest on the couch, set the cough drops and tissue box within his reach, brought him medicine, soup, tea, whatever he asked for. At one point, she even drew him a mentholated bath and ordered him to take it. After he was through, she further surprised him when she applied the vapor rub to his chest herself. He knew it shouldn’t have, but the way she gently caressed him with her tiny hands, making sure to spread the ointment evenly so that it soaked in completely felt more erotic than soothing. She then fluffed up the pillows on the couch while he put his T-shirt back on, and after covering him with a blanket, he easily drifted off to take the best nap of his life.
Good Lord the man is nothing but a big ole baby, she thought as she watched him sleep. But she didn’t mind. It felt kinda nice to be needed and she remembered her mother doing the same things for her when she was little and hadn’t felt well. Except… when she massaged the salve onto his bare chest, she was the one who had difficulty breathing… and it wasn’t due to the strong smell of the medicine.
His entire upper body was a mass of lean sinewy muscles that rippled whenever he moved in the slightest. She tried not to look, not to stare at him but it was unavoidable. It was her own fault really, since she’d insisted on mothering him and to do that, she had to touch those muscles, feel how iron hard they were beneath his soft, warm skin… it wasn’t long before her body temperature rose and she began panting softly, flustered over the very ‘non-motherly’ feelings doing this for him elicited in her.
Now she stood back and sighed, just watching him sleep. Seeing him like this, so dependent on her, so unlike his irritating self, so far removed from the cocky bastard who kept messing up her life that she couldn’t help but feel a tiny flutter of… ‘something’ that honestly, she didn’t care to analyze at the moment. Shaking her head at herself, she decided this must be some sort of sick version of the Nightingale syndrome that would disappear as soon as he returned to his usual arrogant self. It was certain he would, but for the time being she would continue with her plans for this weekend… taking care of her English patient and nursing him back to health.
~~~*~~~
Spike woke to the smell of food and the sound of Buffy bustling about in the kitchen. When looking out the window, he noticed the sun was dipping below the horizon. Sitting up, he stretched his limbs and looked to the massive clock on the wall that read twenty after six. Bloody hell, he must have slept for what… five hours straight?
“Hey there, sleepy head,” Buffy called out to him, catching a glimpse of him running his hand through his hair repeatedly. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved,” he croaked before clearing his sore throat. Making his way to where she was straining the noodles over the sink, he asked, “Can I help?”
“Uhmm, you could set the table I suppose. But only if you feel up to it,” she added, worry over his well-being tinting her tone.
“Consider it done, luv.” As he went about grabbing what they needed, she asked how he was feeling. Not quite ready to give up her nurturing treatment, he told her, “Achy and stuffed up.” Hey, it was mostly true!
Once they were finished eating, she insisted he take a dose of the Nyquil and then go lay back down while she cleaned up.
Fifteen minutes later, when she was done in the kitchen, she walked into the living room only to find him, once again, napping away peacefully. Poor thing must really need the rest. But she was glad to see him sleeping, hoping the medicine and all her pampering were helping to get him over this cold quickly so she wouldn’t have to live with the guilt any longer that she’d caused this.
Since it was still too early for bed, she flicked on the TV and turned the volume down low so as not to disturb him. Her eyes darted back and forth from the couch to the recliner several times before she made a decision. She hated the rustic looking ‘La Z Boy’ with its noisy crinkled leather that sounded like someone passed gas every time she shifted in it, not to mention it wasn’t all that comfortable. Walking towards Spike, she held her breath and hoped she was stealthy enough not to wake him. Carefully sliding her hand underneath to cradle his neck, she pulled the pillow out from under him and slowly sat down, bringing his head to rest on her lap, grateful that she hadn’t woken him in the process. Flipping through the channels, she finally chose an old black and white movie, ‘It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World’ and settled back to watch it.
Every now and then, she’d glanced down at him, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the occasional bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed, the movement of his eyes beneath his lids as if dreaming… but her gaze always went back to the mass of unruly curls on his crown. And at one point, unable to resist, she ever so lightly passed her fingertips through the tussled locks a few times, sighing to herself when she found they were indeed as soft as they looked before gingerly resting her hand on his chest.
And Spike happily pretended to be slumbering… until she nudged him declaring it was time to go to bed.
~~~*~~~
Sunday………
Spike slept in until almost ten thirty while Buffy had woken at eight, gone to the gym and came back to get cleaned up.
It was the sound of the shower running that stirred him from his sleep, the bathroom being located between their bedrooms. He lay there thinking about last night, her lap his pillow, her fingers running through his hair, her hand on his chest… and then drifted to now. Buffy… in the shower, water running down her naked body, her hands soaping every luscious curve, her breasts, hips, buttocks, her…
The vision swimming in his head had him hard and aching for release. Closing his eyes, he wrapped a fist around his throbbing member, a fantasy beginning to play itself out in his mind.
…Stepping into the shower behind her, Buffy threw him a smoldering look over her shoulder as he took hold of her hips. A sigh of desire escaped her lips when he slid his manhood rhythmically along the crease of her soapy buttocks. Placing her palms on the tiled wall in front of her and spreading her legs, she arched into him, silently begging him to take her…
Spike steadily pumped his shaft, imagining the feel of running the head of his cock between her slippery folds right before thrusting his full length within her passage in one stroke. His hips lifted off the bed, squeezing his girth, pretending it was Buffy’s hot, tight channel gripping him instead of his hand and gasped aloud.
Rinsing the last of the conditioner from her hair, Buffy squeezed the excess water from it and turned off the showerhead. Stepping out to retrieve a towel, she heard Spike’s voice coming from his room. Ignoring it, she wrapped her hair up in turban style and threw on her heavy robe, prepared to go to her room to get dressed. As her hand reached the doorknob, however, she distinctly heard Spike calling her name… and stilled. It was not the type of shout to ‘get’ her attention; it was more like a crying out… and not exactly for help. Backing away from the door, she took two steps closer to the thin wall that separated his bedroom from the bathroom, her eyes growing wide as she heard other things come out of his mouth that were, that were…
“Oh, FUCK, Buffy! So tight… hot… you feel so bloody good. Tha’s it baby, cum all over me, let it go… ungh… ungh…”
And when she heard his loud wail of her name shortly afterward, she clamped a hand over her mouth. The full realization of what he was doing hit her just as hard as his orgasm apparently hit him. She felt trapped for a moment, not wanting to make a sound, but knowing she had to get to her room quick lest he need to use the bathroom after, after… that! As quietly as she could, she made her way out into the hall, leaving the bathroom door open and shuttled herself quickly inside her room, her face hot with embarrassment and her womb aflame with a very different sort of heat.
~~~*~~~
Buffy was glad Spike went to take a shower right after her because it gave her time to calm down, collect her wayward thoughts and store them away… for good! She was in the kitchen making lunch when he finally showed his face.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m making soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for both of us.”
“Tha’s fine. Anythin’ I can do to help?”
“No thanks. Got it all under control. How are you feeling today?”
Walking up behind her as she flipped both sandwiches in the fry pan, he place a hand on her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. “Better, thanks to you. Still got a bit of a cough, but all that rest I got yesterday helped and it doesn’ bother me as much anymore.”
She didn’t let him see her smile at his show of affection, he might think it ‘means’ something… which it so does not and simply responded with what her mother used to say. “You should still continue taking your medicine and another nap wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Yes, Nurse Buffy.” Mmmmm… Nurse Buffy!!! Much fun could be had playing that sort of game. But should he be the ailing, ‘needy’ patient, or… the domineering head physician? Why not both? Chuckling at his own thoughts, he went to pull out two plates and bowls, setting them next to where she was cooking.
“Thanks.”
“I was thinkin’…”
“A dangerous activity that," she teased.
“Ha, bloody ha, ha.”
She poured the soup while he took over getting the sandwiches onto the plates. “So what were you thinking?”
“Well, I noticed the hot tub doesn’ have any water in it, so I thought I’d go buy the chemicals and whatever else we need for it… fill it today. That way we can use it tonight.”
“You will?” she asked delighted as they brought their food to the table. “Wait. Do you think it’s wise to go out in this weather while you’re trying to recover from a cold?”
“I’ll be fine,” he replied, eating up the concern in her voice.
“Cuz if you make me a list I can… wait… did you say we? As in we can use it later?” The sudden thought of being in a hot tub… with a half naked Spike – at least she hoped he wore something - felt like, well, some kind of a set up.
He gave her his trademark smirk. “Yeah… we. Why? Think I’ll try somethin’?”
“Wouldn’t put it past you,” she replied, raising a critical brow.
“Relax, Buffy. I won’ lay a finger on you. `Les you ask me nicely,” he added in a deep, honey-toned voice.
“In your dreams, bleach boy.” And didn’t the ‘incident’ from this morning come rushing back to her in living color, adding a bit of pink to her cheeks when wondering what he’d dreamt up, thought about while… doing what he did.
Spike caught the flush in her face and wanting to goad her, or encourage whatever naughty thought she might be having, informed her, “Don’ know what you’re missin’.”
She smiled brightly. “And since I don’t, there’s no missing to be had. Now shut up and eat.”
~~~*~~~
Several hours later, the test strip Spike used to check the chemical levels and alkalinity of the water came out perfect.
“`S ready,” he announced happily as he shut the balcony door behind him.
“Great. I’m going to change.” She was uber excited about finally being able to use the Jacuzzi.
As Buffy bounded down the hall, Spike went to the kitchen and retrieved the large bottle of wine he’d purchased while he went out earlier, two glasses and placed them out on the balcony before heading to the bathroom to grab a towel and then to his room.
Buffy was already putting one leg in the water by the time he arrived back and he couldn’t help but wonder at her sense of modesty. It was plain to see she had a fabulous body despite trying to cover it up by wearing a one piece bathing suit and a long white T-shirt as well.
“Wha’s with the get-up?” He couldn’t refrain himself from asking, speculating if she were somehow insecure about her looks.
“Ah-uhmm… It’s just that I’ve never done this before.” She looked away from him, one hand pulling the hem of her T-shirt as low as possible, the other gripping the rim of the tub to steady herself.
He found her adorable as she slowly immersed herself in the warm water, still holding her shirt in place. Shaggable, mate, stick with shaggable! “Never done what before? Been in front of a man in your bathin’ suit?”
“No. I mean, yeah. But never in a hot tub with a man I hardly know who I’m also living with and happens to be my boss. I-I just don’t know the… the rules!” It was true. She’d never lived with a man before. And under these strange ‘circumstances’, there must be some rules, right? And oh-my-God, does he not own swim trunks? Because once again, he was wearing boxers. Well, at least this pair has buttons, she sighed inwardly with relief. The last thing she wanted to see was his ‘wee-willy-winky’ bobbing amongst the bubbles.
He followed after her into the water, maintaining a respectful distance. “As for attire, you can either wear a suit or not. Doesn’ bother me… though I prefer the latter.”
I’m sure you would, she thought. Pervert! When he leered at her though, she shivered. Must be the difference in temperature. Yep, the shivery-ness has nothing to do with the evil roommate’s sexy leering. Nope! She made an ‘ewww’ face then quickly changed the subject when she saw him grab a bottle and proceeded to uncork it. “So what’s with the wine?”
“Thought we’d celebrate us workin’ so well together… as a team.” When he winked she rolled her eyes so he tried again. “Livin’ together?” She snorted. “Right then! How `bout we celebrate gettin’ through a weekend without goin’ at each other’s throat?”
“That’s only because you’re sick.” In more ways than one aside from being physically ill, she added to herself.
“Quit bein’ so difficult and jus’ take the bloody glass.” He held it out to her, noting her skeptical expression. “What?” he asked, exasperated and clueless as to what her problem was now.
“Are you sure this isn’t some plan to get me drunk?”
“No. `Course not.” Oh, he had a plan alright, just not one involving getting her drunk. A li’l looser maybe, jus’ enough to get her to answer some… questions. He managed to plaster a look of genuine hurt on his face.
“Okay, but just one glass.”
“Wha’s the matter, luv?” he asked, cocking a mischievous eyebrow at her. “Scared you might jump my sexy bones if you drown your inhibitions?”
“As if!” She took a sizeable sip of her wine. “You are so nothing like the kind of man I’m looking for!”
“You’re lookin’ then?” Now this was just the type of interesting conversation he wanted to have with her.
“No! No, I’m not. But if I were, he’d be the exact opposite of you.” Another, larger swallow.
“So, what would your ‘dream-guy’ be like? In two words.”
“What about you? Dream woman… in two words.”
He choked down the ‘willing and able’ he felt rising in his throat and pointed at her, insisting, “Oi! I asked first.”
“Honest and loyal.” With a smug smile she gulped down the rest of her wine and held out her glass to be refilled.
“You think `m not honest and loyal?” Pouring her more, he felt annoyed at her implication. He was loyal and honest… for the most part. Handing her wine to her, he realized she was going over her ‘just one glass’ limit and she drank the first awfully fast. But if it helped to relax that attitude of hers, he wasn’t going to say a thing.
“I’m sure you are… but not when it comes to women.”
“Tha’s where you’re wrong. `M loyal for the one night I spend with every one `f `em and honest when sayin’ upfront not to expect anythin’ more.” Her face went aghast with disgusted surprise before it melted into one of indifference. Bollocks! Probably shouldn’ have said that, particularly because he wanted to shag her brains out.
Shrugging, she took another swig from her glass before saying, “Guess you got me there. But that’s not the kind of honest and loyal I was referring to and you know it. Now… your dream woman, in two words.”
“Blonde,” he raised one finger then another when stating the second requirement.
“Nymphomaniac.”
“I meant your dream woman.” Idiot! ”The one you could spend the rest of your life with?”
He cocked his head to side for a few seconds with a thoughtful look on his face before nodding. “Same answer.”
~~~*~~~
Forty minutes later, Buffy was on her third glass of wine and already too tipsy when they started talking about work and how ‘unfair’ it was that he got the job she deserved. Actually, it was her doing most of the talking while Spike sat back, allowing her to vent.
“I mean… you come here with-with-” she waved her hands about, not even looking at him as she ranted. “-those… your, *hiccup*, gorgeous blue eyes and that… sexy smirk. And-and take the job I've been wor-*hiccup* working my-” she turned on her side so her rear stuck out of the water and pointed to it. “-my ass off to get.”
Well, well, well! So she thinks me sexy, huh? Oh yeah, it was only a matter of time until she fell in his arms. Funny thing about alcohol, it certainly untied her tongue. And bloody hell, what a view he got when she presented her gorgeous arse to him, wet clothes clinging to her every curve and crevice, not to mention her tits were pebbled like little berries…. and he loved berries!
But just as she’d complimented him without knowing it, she turned around and shot him down like an injured horse.
“And-and… you’re a *hiccup*… kid! Just a kid for crying out loud! It’s so not *hiccup* fair,” she pouted then set her glass aside, deciding she’d had enough.
Spike was taking a sip of his wine when it came spluttering back out after hearing what she’d said. Kid?!?! She sees me as a bloody kid? She may be older than him, but he was no boy. The size of his ‘manhood’ alone was proof enough of that. Matter of fact, he’d love to have her suck his ‘proof’. That would shut her up in more ways than the obvious.
He watched her prop both feet on the edge of the tub, exposing her legs just above the knees while leaning her head back and closing her eyes. After stewing for a few seconds, he asked her, “So tell me, Buffy. Are you into fellatio?” She turned her head to the side to open her glassy eyes and look at him.
“Is it Italian?” He burst out laughing. Guess that’s a no.
“No-seriously, wha’s your opinion on it?” He liked how she’d handled the question with humor.
Nodding happily, she replied, “I could eat.” At this point she didn’t really care what type of dish it was and why are his eyes so wide all of a sudden?
Bloody hell but she had his bits hardening at the thought of her on her knees. Only one more question needed an answer as he caressed her legs with his gaze. “Do you enjoy cunnilingus?” A mental image of being perched between those golden thighs burned bright in his brain. He’d easily bet a cool million she’d taste like heaven.
“Is it just me or are you hungry, too?” All this talk of food had her stomach making with the grumblies.
“Huh?” For a moment, he actually thought this was her way of finally giving in to him… for a moment.
“There’s a Chinese place just around the corner.”
“Chinese?” What the… Oh now she was playing with him, stringing him along. Fine! She wanted to tease him? Go ahead, but when the day came… when she ‘came’… she wouldn’t think of him as a kid anymore.
“Ling Ling’s. And they deliver,” she smiled happily.
Oh, he had a yen for something, alright… American cuisine! He could ‘eat out’ then deliver her something. Glancing at the giant clock on the wall inside, he noticed it was past dinner time and he could use something in his stomach. “Sounds brilliant. Why don’ you call? Order whatever you want and some General Tsao’s for me. `M buyin’.”
~~~*~~~
Buffy was a bit unsteady as she tried to get out of the hot tub which led to Spike helping her so she wouldn’t fall flat on her ass. And wouldn’t you know…
“Oomph!” As soon as her second foot hit the deck, she slid, landing against the very wet and hard muscled chest of Spike. “Sorry.” She blushed, realizing how close they actually were since his arms gripped her waist tightly, holding her flush to him.
“Jus’ how drunk are you, pet?” With an armful of her slippery body, her hardened nipples rubbing along his pectorals as she heaved, he had to get her away from him lest he suffer another hard on that wouldn’t get taken care of by anything other than his hand tonight.
“On a scale of one to ten…. Ohhhh, about a *hiccup* seven,” she giggled.
Her lazy eyed smile suggested more like a ten to him. “Here.” Righting her, he grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her shoulders then took his own and got to his knees to dry her feet off in case she slipped again.
In order to keep her balance as he lifted each dainty foot in the air, she leaned her forearms on his shoulders for support. This not only brought her quim dangerously close to his face, but he could feel her breasts practically resting on top of his head. Frustrated as hell at the effect she was unknowingly having on him, he had to push all lusty thoughts aside because of her drunken state and finished as quickly as possible before suggesting, “Why don’ you go inside and get changed, I’ll make the call for some nosh. What do you want me to order you?”
“Uhmm, same thing you’re *hiccup* having. General Toes.”
Chuckling, he corrected her, “Tsao’s, luv.” Opening the door, he resisted the temptation to smack her on the ass it looked so delectable with her clothes adhering to it like a second skin. But if there was one thing he never did, it was to take advantage of an inebriated woman… unless she consented before becoming intoxicated that is.
After hanging the phone up, Spike heard a few bumps and curses coming from Buffy’s room. She was probably having a hard time trying to get dressed with the alcohol running through her veins wreaking havoc on her equilibrium. It wasn’t until he heard a loud thud that he became truly concerned and went to check on her.
As he neared her door, he noticed it wasn’t completely shut so he nudged it open just a bit more to see for himself if she was okay and hadn’t passed out. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him that somehow, was both amusing and erotic. Half bent over with her back to him, she was jumping on one leg trying desperately to get the bottoms of her pajamas on the other foot. As she pulled them up, he got a delightful eyeful of her thonged bottom before the waistband reached her torso and he had to quickly move away in case she caught him staring.
With a serious adjustment of his bits and a limp in his walk, he made it back to the living room to sit down with a pillow pulled over his lap. He swore, no, he knew he’d just seen the most gorgeous arse ever in all his twenty three years and salivated as his earlier thoughts about making her dinner came back with a vengeance.
~~~*~~~
Both blonds sat on the couch, Buffy munching away happily while Spike put the telly on, choosing the History Channel since there wasn’t much else on to watch. He hoped having something to eat would help sober her up a bit before going to bed to get some much needed sleep. It didn’t take long before she set her half eaten carton down and yawned. The cute little noise she made as the involuntarily response to her tiredness had him asking, “Ready for some kip?”
“Maybe in a little bit.” She did feel tired, especially between the wine and food, but dressed in her yummy sushi pajamas with a blanket wrapped around her, she felt too comfortable for the moment to think about moving. “I wanna finish watching this.” Staring at the TV, she tried to focus on what the narrator was saying about King Henry the eighth’s reign and one of his many wives, but it wasn’t long before her eyelids began to flutter shut.
A few seconds later and Spike felt the weight of Buffy’s head lean against his shoulder, a light snore emanating from her. Smiling, he stayed put rather than wake her, enjoying this moment that wouldn’t happen if she were cognizant in the slightest of her present position.
About an hour and a half later, Buffy still hadn’t lifted her head and had in fact, turned her whole body towards him, somehow managing to snuggle her face into the crook of his neck. And as tired as he felt right now, he found himself wanting to stay right where he was even though sleeping sitting up would be difficult.
Reluctantly, he nudged her a few times before discovering she was too far gone to be woken without some serious shaking, which he wasn’t about to do. Instead, he hoped she wouldn’t kill him in the morning for what he was about to do.
As carefully as he could, he maneuvered the blanket to cover them both, placed an arm around her and, as slowly as possible, laid them both down on their sides, hoping not to rouse her. With her back flush to his front, he was surprised he didn’t have the expected hormonal reaction to her he normally would and passed it off as being too knackered to respond.
Placing a protective arm around her waist, she surprised him again when she snuggled further into his embrace with a sigh. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply the subtle aroma of her floral shampoo, sighing contentedly before closing his eyes, ignoring the telly altogether in lieu of the warmth radiating from her body to his and the unique scent that was Buffy. The last thought that ran through his semi-conscious mind before dozing off was that he’d never spent the night with a woman before, not even after having sex. But the sensation of spooning the woman in his arms, knowing it was Buffy and not some random chit he’d shagged, well, he couldn’t help but think it felt kind of… nice.
~~~*~~~
Monday………
Buffy woke up sometime around five in the morning, pleasantly cuddled up against a warm body, the tantalizing smell of masculinity surrounding her, a strong arm wrapped around her… wait a minute, warm body, male scent, arm around my waist?!?! Her eyes popped open, fully awake and in panic mode. Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God!!! Why am I, no, why are we here? Like this?!?!
She got up fast and looked behind her to find a still sleeping Spike, the arm previously draped over her groping in an unconscious search for the loss of her body while he murmured something unintelligible.
Think, think, she told herself, running over the events of last night rapidly. All she could remember was the hot tub, Chinese food, watching TV and hearing a monotone voice drone on then… nothing. Absolutely nothing. Had he taken advantage of her in her drunken state? I did ask if he planned on getting me drunk. But he said no. Not just that, but she was the one handing him her glass to be refilled. But how did she wind up sleeping with him on the couch? Wait, she tried to rationalize. I’m dressed. He’s dressed. But they could’ve gotten redressed after… after… No! That did not happen! Nothing happened! Did it?
She poked him harshly in the chest and raised her voice in alarm as soon as one blue eye opened and a grunt of pain came from his lips followed by an ‘oi’. “What the hell happened last night?” Cuz if anything did happen, even if I don’t remember it, someone’s going to die young… and painfully slow!
It took Spike a few minutes of studying his surroundings, but when his eyes landed on a pissed off Buffy, all with the judgmental eyes and hands on her hips, he instantly knew what she was thinking. Sitting up slowly and yawning, he nonchalantly replied, “Nothin’ happened.” She didn’t look convinced though and that in itself perturbed him more than he cared to admit. “Buffy. You and I both fell asleep on the couch. Tha’s it.”
“That’s it?” she stated rather than asked. “You mean to tell me you didn’t try to, try to… make with the groiny business since I was sloshed?” He made with a cocky smirk before answering her.
“Trust me, luv. If I had, you’d be feelin’ it.”
“Huh? What is that supposed to mean?”
With a roll of his eyes, he couldn’t believe how dense the chit could be sometimes. “You’d be good and sore… hurtin’ in all the wrong places.”
The wink he gave her after saying that disgusted her even as the blood rushed to her cheeks to stain them with embarrassment. But he had a point. If he had, she would feel, well, something down there whether it’d be soreness or… whatever. “So you swear you didn’t try anything.” Her voice had lost some of its accusatory edge.
He raised a finger and made an ‘X’ over his chest and nodded. “Cross my heart. Your virtue is safe… and still quite frozen.”
Ignoring his jibe, she didn’t know what to say. Looking at the time, she excused herself to go to her own room for the remaining two hours of sleep she would get before having to get up for work. She still thought that he did it on purpose, the falling asleep with her on the couch thingy. Like a ploy to get closer to her, make her trust him since it was obvious he hadn’t touched her inappropriately. Evil, evil man! That wasn’t what had her mad right now though. It was the fact that when she’d first woken up, she was all comfy-cozy and relaxed with a knowing sense that she was safe and secure within his embrace… and it all felt so-so… pleasant. That is until her eyes had opened and reality made its way through the fog of her sleep. As if I could ever be safe with Spike!
As she slid under her bed covers, Spike was left with his own conflicting thoughts. What it was like to be that close to her, how he couldn’t get over how amazing it felt to spend the night with her, just holding her in his arms, feeling her warmth seep through him, the texture of her hair tickling his nose... And while he still ‘wanted’ her, funny sensations were stirring in him of an entirely different nature he was unfamiliar with, like some weird emotion was growing inside of him. He pushed it to the back of his mind not wanting to contemplate what it meant, preferring to rationalize it instead. He remembered waking in the middle of the night and raising his arm higher on her torso, appreciating the weight of her breast on the back of his hand, how her buttocks were pushed firmly against his cock in her sleep… Bugger all! Though that was true, his conscience was there to remind him it wasn’t her body that made for such an enjoyable experience, it was just plain… her.
If you have some time, my muse would love to hear what you thought about our couples first 48 hours together. Have a great week everyone – hugs. Next chapter contains Spike’s announcement of an overnight business trip for Buffy and he – and some naughty snooping on his behalf – as well as the results of Buffy’s lunch meeting with Parker - sure to be a disaster… but for who is the question*winks*.
