“So what’s it to be, Kitten?” Spike asked, peering over her shoulder at the vast array of ice cream flavors. He couldn’t suppress the image of any one of those cool treats covering Buffy’s body and licking them off of her.
The pair were standing in the gelato parlor, Spike having already chosen a small cup of the strawberry flavor. However, Buffy seemed a little more indecisive than he was.
Wasn’t that just the story of her life though?
She stared at the selection, her mouth watering in anticipation. “I think I’m gonna go mixy with the flavors.”
“Yeah? Like a bit of variety to spice things up, do you?” His hot breath tickled the back of her neck and she shivered. “I’m a bit like that myself, Goldilocks. Love to try out new things. Could show you sometime…if you’re up for it.”
He was standing so close behind her that she could feel his body heat. A rebellious part of her longed to lean back against him, but instead she nodded and forced a murmured affirmative through her parched lips, not even knowing what she was agreeing to.
“Yeah, you’d like what I’ve got for you, Kitten,” he breathed softly.
His tongue ached to dart out and trace the enticing shell of her ear, but somehow he managed to restrain himself. His large member was already throbbing in his jeans just from being around her and he knew that if he was able to savor her sweet flavor then he’d have an accident in those jeans.
Reluctantly he pulled himself away from the vanilla-scented blonde, under the pretense of finding them a table. In reality, he just knew that his senses couldn’t endure the sweet torture of being allowed so close to her without being able to take her every which way. The kinds of things he wanted to do to her would get them arrested in forty-nine states.
Ambling over to a booth to wait for the girl, Spike sprawled into it and played with his own tub of strawberry gelato. Buffy’s sweet fragrance was still in his nostrils and combined with the cool taste of the ice cream it was heavenly. What wouldn’t he have given to spread that icy treat all over her ruby nipples only to slowly lick it off?
He could think of areas even farther south where he would love to smear it before cleaning it off with his tongue. Only seconds away from messing his pants like an oversexed teenager, he finally noticed Buffy was approaching and breathed a slight sigh of relief. No doubt she would say something bitchy that would soften his turgid cock.
With avid eyes he watched her lithe body as she padded over with a huge container brimming with ice cream. He couldn’t stop himself from caressing her with his eyes as her hips swished this way and that. Although she was only a skinny little thing, she still managed to boast very subtle curves that really got his juices flowing.
“Get what you wanted?” he asked thickly, still trying to quash his arousal, and she nodded.
“Chocolate, coffee and caramel fudge.”
“Sounds like my kind of treat, pet.” He leaned forward to voice his earlier thoughts. “Bet it tastes even better eaten off skin.”
Buffy’s gulp was so fierce that it was actually audible. He was sure that he could hear her heart pounding in her chest and the subtle reddening of her cheeks was easily visible to him. Wasn’t it wonderful to know that even if she disliked him, he was still able to make her body crave him?
But then he supposed that was his talent, making women want him. Bitterly he realized that even though he’d always been able to make them want him, never had he been able to make them love him. Maybe, just maybe he could turn it around with Buffy.
God, he hoped so with all of his heart.
Pulled out of his somber thoughts by the movement across the table, Spike’s dark blue eyes were drawn to Buffy’s lips as her little pink tongue darted out to lick the melting ice cream. Her eyes fluttered shut in pleasure and a groan of satisfaction bubbled from her mouth. One again the blond feared he might explode in his pants when her pouty, cherry lips enveloped the spoon and sucked heartily on it.
Was she tryingto torture him?
Surreptitiously he reached under the table to adjust his uncomfortably engorged cock. The zipper was painfully cutting into the delicate organ even after he adjusted himself, but he knew now that there was no release from his erection when he was around Buffy. She always sent the blood flowing south, and apparently her tongue wasn’t as sharp as usual today so he had no hope for relief.
“Mmm, this is so good,” Buffy unwittingly moaned as the cool creaminess slid down her throat. Her eyes drifted shut and an expression of bliss flickered over her face.
“Yeah, it bloody is,” agreed Spike. However, he really wasn’t referring to the ice cream.
Buffy’s eyes opened and lifted to his. “I think you’re drooling, Spike.”
Amusement sparkled behind her green orbs. She was surprised that she felt no irritation toward him currently. If he’d been perving on her any other time she might have popped him in the nose or insulted him, but right now she couldn’t seem to muster any annoyance.
Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t being a pain in the ass like usual or maybe it was the fact that her Mom seemed to like him, but Buffy was feeling a weird kind of affection for the blond.
She briefly wondered if this ice cream was laced with happy-drugs.
Absently Spike raised his hand to his lips to check if he was actually salivating over the young blonde and found his face drool free. “Cheeky bint,” he grinned.
“Right, ‘cause I’m totally the one who’s perving on you.”
“I bet you’d love to get a chance to perv at my body, pet. Wouldn’t you like to take a peek at every little nook and…cranny?”
God, how did he make every word sound so damn filthy?
A memory of sitting in a hotel room watching every inch of Spike’s naked body flashed through her brain but she quickly put it to the back of her mind. If she allowed herself to dwell on that recollection then she knew that it wouldn’t be long before her underwear was dripping with her arousal, especially being so close to the star of that little show.
Trying to cover up her thoughts, Buffy rolled her eyes and concentrated on her ice cream. “You wish, Spike. God, I’m gonna get so fat if I keep eating like this,” she whined, eyeing the cup full of yumminess in front of her.
“You’d still be gorgeous even if you weighed a ton, Summers. And you know it.”
“As if!” Buffy scoffed, sticking her spoon in her ice cream and mixing it around. “You so wouldn’t want me that way.”
“That just proves you don’t know me at all, pet,” he sighed, taking a mouthful of his own dessert. “I’d want you however you looked. If you think I just want you for your body, love…well you’re sadly mistaken. I love what you are, pet, how you try…”
“Spike…can we not?”
“I’m sorry, Kitten. I know you don’t want to hear it but I can’t not say it.”
“I thought we agreed to do the friends thing?”
“Friends can’t compliment each other?”
“Of course they can. But telling me that you love me is way more than just a friendly compliment,” she growled. “You’re like the master of word twistiness.”
“What can I tell you, baby? I’m just the master. Feel free to call me that any time.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” she sneered.
“Bloody would, yeah!”
In spite of herself, Buffy found giggles escaping from her lips. “You’re such a pervert,” she laughed. “It’s no wonder you became a porn star.”
“I became a porn star because I didn’t really have a choice.” He slipped farther down into the booth and leaned his head back. “Circumstances sometimes conspire against you. I did what I had to do.”
“I do kinda get it, I guess,” Buffy said, realizing they’d finally arrived at the serious portion. “I mean I know I judged you for it when we first met but you gotta understand why.”
“You care too much what people think about you, that’s why,” he asserted insightfully. “You’re their bloody Messiah and you don’t want to let them down. Rolling around in the filth with the likes of me wouldn’t endear you to them. That simple, isn’t it? Doesn’t take a genius to work out that load of bollocks.”
Buffy openly gaped at his response. She knew he could read her pretty well but never had she imagined that he could read her like a book. Her mouth flopped open and closed like a fish struggling for air before she finally clamped it shut.
“How do you manage to make me like you and not so much make with the liking at the same time?”
“That’s your biggest problem,” Spike theorized insightfully. “You’re a mess of contradictions.”
“I’m so not contradict-y,” Buffy huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulders. “Or messy,” she added with a pout.
“‘Course you are, pet,” he insisted with a wave of his hand. “Look at you. Deep down you long for a place to settle down and call your home, but you live in a bloody hotel. You’ve been living in LA for how many years now? And all you do is move from one hotel to another. Empty, faceless rooms.”
“Did you take a psychoanalysis class?” Buffy asked hotly.
“Don’t need one to work you out, love. You’re not that complicated, even if you think you are.”
“Well you really don’t know as much as you think you do, genius. I have to travel all over for work. Buying an apartment wouldn’t make any sense,” she told him, feeling oddly stung by his words.
She didn’t like the stinging. It was the kind of prickly feeling she got when Spike was in the ballpark of correctness. Not that it happened often, of course.
But on this occasion…
Was he actually right that she resisted the idea of being tied down by refusing to put down permanent roots, even though that was her most profound desire?
Her eyes snapped up to look at him, searching for some kind of laughter behind his eyes. Something that would make her doubt that he believed what he’d told her about herself, or that he was just trying to play on her insecurities. But she found no trace of that. And if he believed it, then maybe it really was true.
Maybe she needed more sessions with Tara.
However, whether or not he was correct, Buffy had no intention of just allowing Spike to dig around inside her brain and pull out any more of her thoughts. So she decided the best form of defense is offense.
“I don’t see you getting all root-y,” she said suddenly, pulling a frown from her companion.
“Well, just shows how soddin’ little you know about me. Doesn’t it, Summers?”
She wiggled in her seat, uncomfortable as he grinned slyly at her. “What does that even mean?”
“I got my own place,” he told her proudly.
“Sleeping in the backseat of your car surrounded by your favorite empty whiskey bottles doesn’t count, Spike.”
“Oi!” He tossed a glare at her. “I’ll have you know that the backseat of my Baby is only used for the fun kind of activities.”
“Eww, gross! And way TMI.”
He carried on as if she hadn’t interrupted. “And besides, I have a real house. The kind with four walls and a roof.”
“I know what a house is, lamebrain.” She smiled to lessen the sting of her words and his heart warmed at the gesture.
“It’s a beautiful little place down in San Diego. Gave me a place to set up home, somewhere I can always head back to when I feel the need. Maybe I could take you down with me sometime.”
Buffy blinked at his offer and nodded. “Maybe,” she hedged unsurely.
“Always need to have a place to call home. Somewhere to keep your heart or you’ll end up lost.”
“You know, Sunnydale’s always been that way for me,” she mumbled, her eyes widening as she realized that was actually true.
Sunnydale was quiet, serene and peaceful. She was able to come here and live like an actual person. Of course, she wouldn’t trade in her career to be a Stepford wife in a small town, but it was nice to know she had somewhere to go when life weighed her down.
“Retreats are all well and good, but you wouldn’t want to come back here forever,” Spike said decisively. “You’d wither and die stuck in a place like this.”
Buffy’s large green eyes almost bugged out of her head as he unintentionally echoed her own thoughts once again. How the hell did he read her so well? If she was the paranoid kind of girl, she might think he’d been studying her.
It was like he was tuned to her wavelength in a way that no one else had ever been. However, for the first time she looked at him through appreciative eyes, reveling in the fact that someone could actually understand her instead of just humoring her.
“It’s one of the reasons why I left,” Buffy told him, playing with her rapidly melting ice cream. “I stayed here for a while even after I got famous. I mean I even started high school here but it kinda limited the whole scale of opportunities. Somehow I always had this idea of Los Angeles as being the Land of Awesome. I never realized the pressure that would come with it all.”
“You didn’t choose this life, love.”
“No, it chose me, but I could have chosen to step out of the light. I couldn’t do that though.”
“You feel like it’s your calling?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s a pretty good way to put it. I feel like I don’t know what I’d do without it. Haven’t you ever felt that way about something?”
“Only about a woman,” Spike admitted quietly, not meeting her eyes. “I’m a bloody fool for love, Summers. I let love chew me up and spit me out and then go back for more. But for a job? Nah! Nothing is that important to me.”
“Well me and the love bug are totally unmixy. As soon as love enters Buffyland it turns sour.”
“That’s because you’ve always dated the poster boys for the ponce-parade.”
Buffy giggled in spite of herself, licking a trickle of melted ice cream off her thumb. “What’s a…ponce?”
“A git.”
“And a git would be?”
“You know…a sod, a wanker, a bloody poofter.” He quirked an eyebrow at her perplexed expression and she laughed again.
“I will never understand British slang. Even after being around Giles I’m still totally confuse-o girl.”
“Fat lot of use Giles has been helping you out with your relationships. Your bloody manager should have stepped in with some of the wankers you went out with. I mean Angel? What the hell was he thinking letting you date him?”
Immediately Buffy bristled, sitting up straight in her seat and glaring at Spike. “He didn’t let me do anything, Spike. I have my own mind and I do what I wanna do. It didn’t take long before I found out on my own what an asshole Angel was.”
“Listen, pet, I didn’t mean anything by that. I just wish you didn’t have to go through all that bollocks with the most enormous arse in Hollywood.”
“It did kinda suck.”
“You can talk about it, you know,” Spike assured her gently.
Searching his eyes for some kind of joke or deception, Buffy came up empty. He looked totally genuine, and she didn’t believe that the peroxide blond was that good of a liar. If he was planning to glean information on her only to taunt her later then she would easily read it on his face. The sole emotion on his face was concern. And maybe there was a little bit of love seeping through.
“Really?” she asked. “You won’t be all…judge-y?”
“I can safely say I’d never be judge-y,” he quipped warmly.
Hesitating for a moment, he finally gave into the urge to touch her and laid a hand over hers. He’d always been a very tactile man, conveying as much through his touch as he did through his facial expressions or words. For a moment she looked as if she would shrug off his warm caress but instead she relaxed her hands, allowing him to keep on touching her.
Buffy didn’t know why she didn’t immediately snatch her hands away from Spike’s but there was something so comforting about letting him touch her. It was as if the intimate contact with him soothed her damaged soul. Tara’s words about following her heart came flooding back to her and this time she heeded the advice. The bleached blond looked as shocked as she felt about it. However, his shock soon morphed into a shy but blissful smile.
“So talk to me, Buffy. Tell me what made you so…reluctant to let your heart love again.”
Finally meeting his eyes, Buffy took a deep breath.
“Okay,” she smiled. “I’ll show you mine and you can show me yours. Deal?”
“Deal.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay in updating but I have the next several chapters ready to post so hopefully I'll be updating fast.