Buffy took a deep, steadying breath as she smoothed one hand down the front of her dress. It was simple, with a flowery pattern and buttons all the way down the front. The swell of her young breasts peeked, in what she hoped was an enticing manner, above the neckline. If this doesn’t work, she mused, then I might as well give up. Deciding the moment had come, she took a cold beer bottle in each hand and strode out the back door, letting it swing shut behind her.
She could see him sitting alone at the large picnic table in the backyard. Spike. Her step-father’s younger brother. His head was bent forward as he scratched absently at the old table with a twig. When she walked up behind him he went still, as if holding his breath.
Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat and went to stand beside him. “I brought you a couple of beers,” she said, offering him one of the bottles. She hoped that he didn’t notice the way her hand shook. “I-I thought you might be thirsty.”
When his gaze rose from the scarred wood, his blue eyes roamed her face in a frank assessment, though what he was searching for she couldn’t tell. After a moment he accepted the bottle. “Thanks.” Taking off the screw top with a quick turn of his wrist, he took a long swallow of the amber liquid. Buffy bit her lip as she watched his throat working.
Spike gave a long, appreciative sigh before turning his attention back to her. “Where are your folks?”
“Mum and Giles left for the party a little while ago,” she replied as she slid onto the long bench beside him. She loved Giles, but he wasn’t her father and she didn’t want Spike, of all people, to forget that.
“I guess it’s just you and me for the rest of the night,” she added as she watched him closely, hoping for a reaction to her words. If she could just see some small sign that being here alone with her was...tempting in some way, that she wasn't about to make a fool of herself, then maybe she could get her body to stop trembling. His face remained blank and she looked away, disappointed.
This was the first time in months that they’d been alone together for any length of time. It was a moment she’d fantasised about at length and in great detail. Now that it had arrived, she couldn’t help but think that reality was about to fall seriously short.
As the silence stretched between them, Buffy stroked her fingers over the beer bottle that was still in her hand, wiping away the condensation only to watch it reappear. She gasped when the bottle was plucked deftly from her hands. A small frown creased her brow and she turned to see Spike inspecting the label. The first bottle, still half full, sat in front of him.
“Why did you bring me two?” he asked. “This one will be warm before I finish the first.”
Heat rose to her cheeks and suddenly Buffy felt like an immature kid, her carefully thought out plan no more than the silly prank of an inexperienced girl. That was not how she wanted to appear to this man that had set her heart to racing from the moment they met nearly two years ago. She might only be seventeen, a long way from his twenty-three years, but she felt a woman’s desire for him.
“I was hoping,” she began, unable to bring herself to look at him, “maybe you’d let me have that one.”
Buffy’s mortification was complete when she glanced up to find him smiling at her in amusement. “I don’t know, pet,” he drawled with exaggerated concern, “if you’re mum found out I let you drink alcohol she’d tear shreds off my hide.”
Buffy shrugged her shoulders a little. “I promise not to tell her if you give it to me.”
His eyes widened and Buffy's heart began to slam into her chest as she realised the double meaning of her words. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, his gaze darting from her eyes to her mouth and back again. Then he turned abruptly and took another long drink.
Buffy’s palms began to sweat and she fidgeted with her fingers, excited beyond belief by his reaction, but at a loss as to what to do next. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she cleared her throat before she spoke. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
When he replied his voice was quiet, but filled with tension. “What will you give me in return?” When he looked at her his eyes seemed to burn with a heat she’d only seen in her dreams, and he was smiling in a secretive way that made her wonder what he had in mind. “If I give it to you.”
Buffy swallowed hard. “What do you want?” she asked, surprised by the breathlessness of her own voice.
He leaned in a little closer, the bottle dangling from two of his fingers in the small space between them. “How about a kiss?”
She gasped as his low, husky voice reached her ears. She’d never expected him to say something like that, though her heart had yearned for it with a desperation that made her quiver. Inching forward on the bench, she licked her lips in anticipation. This was her chance to prove to him that she was a grown woman. Passionate and seductive.
She tilted her head a little to one side and touched her lips to his. They were softer than she expected, and gentle as he responded to her kiss. A small sound slipped out of her at the tingles that began to spread from their joined mouths to the rest of her body. She could have happily kissed him all night, but he'd said 'a kiss' not 'a totally freaking hot make-out session' and so, with a pang of regret, she forced herself to move away. When she opened her eyes, she found him watching her with a quizzical look on his face. She blinked, the trance that had held her captive in a blissful haze shattering instantly. Had she done something wrong? Didn’t he like kissing her? Without a word she turned back toward the table, hoping to God he wouldn’t laugh at her.
The opened beer bottle appeared in front of her with a soft thud. After staring at it for a moment she picked it up, taking an awkward sip. She didn’t really want it anymore, but she also didn’t want to look even more foolish than she already did. The cool liquid did nothing to dislodge the painful lump that had settled in her throat.
“You’ve never been kissed before, have you? Not really.”
Buffy’s eyes slid closed, even as tears burned behind them. She never should have come out here, never should have thought that he would see her as anything but a child. She was too young for him, in every way imaginable, and they both knew it.
His hand touched her cheek, turning her face towards him, but she refused to meet his gaze. “You’re amazing, do you know that?” he asked, his words barely above a whisper.
She shook her head, swiping at the tears that escaped to trail down her cheeks. “No, I’m not. If I was I could make you look at me like...” she sighed, shaking her head again, “just differently.” She rose from the table, intent on putting as much space between them as possible. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...this was a mistake.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” She’d barely taken a step when he caught her by the wrist, pulling her back around to face him. “Sit,” he demanded.
Something about the steely edge of his voice warned her that if she did try to go anywhere, he'd only follow. Dreading the coming conversation, she swung one leg over the bench and sat in front of him. He did the same so that they were both straddling the bench, facing each other.
Okay, she told herself, this was the part where he would tell her how pretty she was and how, if only he was a bit younger, he was sure he would be interested in her.
Instead, his hands slid under her knees and lifted them, yanking her forward on the seat and hooking her legs over his own. She looked up in shock to find their bodies were now only inches apart. Then his fingers tunnelled through her hair, bringing her face closer to his. “You think I haven’t looked at you?” he asked in a low voice. “That I see you as...what...a niece?” His mouth was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. “I’ve looked at you, believe me. And you’ve looked to. Those big, green eyes of yours that devour me on sight.”
Buffy clutched at his arms, her eyes wide with shock. Spike’s words washed over her, even as his mouth ghosted over her face and neck. So close, but never quite touching. The sound of her own panting was harsh and heavy in her ears.
“You’re like a little girl with her first ice cream,” he continued. “You’re just dying to get in there and give it a big old lick.” With that his tongue darted out to swoop across the pulse point on the base of her neck and she gasped. The untouched place between her legs began to throb and she clenched her muscles, whimpering when the ache intensified. “I’ve always wondered if you could feel my gaze the way I could feel yours. If your nipples hardened from the touch of my eyes the way they would if I caressed them with my hand right now.”
She looked down to see his hand hovering over her right breast. Again, coming oh so close, but never quite connecting. Buffy thought she would scream with the frustration. Why was he torturing her like this?
Spike let out a groan that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. “God only knows how I’ve kept my hands off you this long.”
Those words seemed to break the last of his restraint, and he finally touched her, his hands brushing against her body in a light caress from her shoulders, all the way down to her waist. Buffy cried out, arching into his touch. His hands shook with a tension that shocked her and she gazed up at him in wonder.
“I had no idea,” she murmured.
“That’s because I made damn sure I never got caught. Until now.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh, as if he couldn’t believe he’d let the cat out of the bag. “I’m too old for you, Buffy. You should be out having fun with people you’re own age.”
“And if I’m right where I want to be?” she asked, jutting her chin out in defiance.
“Then...I suppose I should thank you, for bringing me something to drink.” He smiled, that mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “What would you like in return?”
Her lips curved upward in a smile and she took a tremulous breath. “How about a kiss?”
He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” Cupping her face between his hands he leaned forward to press his lips against first one corner of her mouth and then the other. “Open your mouth,” he whispered.
Buffy complied, her lips parting on a sigh. Then she felt his tongue slide along her bottom lip and she whimpered, her hands coming up to slide around the back of his neck.
“You taste like heaven,” he muttered before descending again with more force. His tongue invaded her mouth and hers was there to match it, twining with his eagerly. She could feel her blood rushing through her body and wondered if he could sense its torrent through her skin. When his hands appeared on her waist, lifting her onto his lap she cried out with satisfaction. His denim jeans did little to hide the hardness of his arousal and she quickly found herself rubbing against him, glorying in the sounds that were torn from his throat.
He wrenched his mouth away from hers and Buffy cried out at the loss. Clasping his head between her hands she sought more of his bone-melting kisses. “Buffy, wait. We need to slow down, kitten.”
She frowned. “But I don’t want to.”
Chuckling, Spike rested his forehead against hers. “Believe me, neither do I.”
They clung to each other for a moment, their breath slowing. Then Spike took her hands in his and moved them behind her back until they touched the rough wood of the bench. “Lean back,” he muttered, his voice harsh with lust.
Willing to do anything if only he would kiss her again, Buffy smiled. “Okay.” Moving off his lap so that her bottom just touched the bench, she rested her weight back onto her arms, feeling the graininess of the old wood against her palms. Her back arched, pushing her breasts out towards him. The position made her feel vulnerable, like she was on display for him, but she didn't move. She trusted him to take care of her.
He sat very still, just watching her for a long moment. Then, reaching out with one hand, he used his fingertips to trace a path along her collarbone and down over the bare skin of her chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured absently. “I want to make you feel good.”
Placing one supporting hand between her shoulder blades, he leaned forward and began to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along her chest. The other hand lingered on her knee before creeping upward along her thigh. Buffy’s breath hissed through her teeth and she lifted her legs to wrap them tightly around his waist. Instinctively, her hips began to rock against him.
He groaned loudly into her mouth, but continued to torture her as she writhed before him, using his mouth and hands to bring her to heights of pleasure that she’d only read about in her secret stash of romance novels. It felt like her whole body was on fire and only Spike could sooth the burns. Then he eased her dress off one shoulder, and when his mouth closed around her bare nipple she threw her head back with a primal cry, arching up into him with wild abandon. Ecstasy ricocheted around her body as her legs locked around him, her body rigid with the violence of completion.
When, at last, the tremors began to subside and the arms that had been holding her up gave way, she found herself being gathered against a hard chest. Warm, strong arms wrapped around her and lips that murmured loving words brushed against her hair.
“You're so beautiful. So perfect,” he murmured, his voice husky with his own frustrated desires. “My girl.”
Feeling safe and satisfied, Buffy turned her head to look up at him. “What about you? I want to make you feel good too.”
His eyes drifted closed for a moment, as if he was savouring the thought. “When do you turn eighteen, love?” he asked when he opened them again. “Please, tell me it's not long.”
A smile teased her lips when she replied, “A little over two months.”
He pulled her back into his arms, the air rushing out of him in a sound that was part relief and part agony. “Two months. I’ve waited this long, I can wait two more months.”
Buffy hugged him close, her smile widening. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to come out here after all.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is a little one-shot that percolated in my brain for about six months before I finally threw it out on the page. I hope you enjoy it.
Please leave me some love.
Please leave me some love.