“I’ll be right back yeah?” Spike said, directing the girls to his living room sofa.
“Sure,” Dawn said flirtatiously, giving him a smile.
Buffy nodded her head, looking around at the expensive, yet tastefully decorated bachelor pad.
The comfortable looking suede sofa was flanked by two small chairs. A crystal vase with flowers, under an imitation expressionist painting hung in the corner. A flat screen Tv and two towering speakers dominated the room. The dining table looked elegant and unused.
“What are we doing here?” Buffy mumbled, shaking her head.
They had made small talk on the short drive over and on more than one occasion, she’d wanted to tell the cab driver to pull over.
But somehow she’d found herself interrupted, by a flirtatious question from Spike. That and the fact that she couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful young man beside her.
“Having fun,” Dawn suggested, looking over her shoulder. “Messing around.”
“There will be no messing around,” Buffy said emphatically, dropping her voice to keep from being overheard.
Dawn rolled her eyes, “I didn’t mean…”
“Ladies,” Spike said, walking into the room, holding something in his hand. “Ready to party?”
“Always,” Dawn said, enthusiastically. “Right mom?”
Dawn made sure to stretch out the focus on the latter part of that sentence. Spike felt a decadent thrill go through him, one he had to control.
“Right,” Buffy said, distractedly dusting off the couch and taking a seat.
“What you got there?” Dawn asked.
“Just a little mood music,” Spike said.
With great care, he inserted the LP into the vinyl disc player.
“Vinyl?” Buffy said. Rolling her eyes. “Kinda old fashioned isn’t it?”
“Guess I’m just an old fashioned kinda guy,” Spike said. Shooting a wolfish look at Buffy.
Buffy scoffed.
Yeah. A guy who was into a mother-daughter threesome. So old fashioned. And classy, she thought to herself.
The music, meanwhile, had begun to play. Some band Buffy couldn’t recognize.
Love is like a bomb baby, c’mon get it on!
Livin’ like a lover with a red hot thong
Lookin’ like a tramp, like a video vamp
Demolition woman, can I be your man?
“Oh man!” Dawn said. Tapping her foot to the music now. “I love this freaking song!”
Spike gave her a big smile. Once again, he found himself struck by her beauty. Her youth.
He found a pang of guilt rising in his chest.
Was he taking advantage of her?
She’s an adult, he told herself. She wants to be here, doesn’t she?
He looked at Buffy from the corner of his eye. Wondering what her game was.
Since they’d gotten out of the bar, she’d given him nothing but cold vibes.
Was she playing hard to get? Or had she developed cold feet?
Further investigation was warranted, Spike decided.
Dawn, on the other hand, was warming up nicely.
On the way over, all William could think about was how things would unfold tonight.
He knew the tricky part would be actually getting the three of them there. In his bed.
He’d decided that he needed to take his time. He’d have to build the anticipation. Make them want it as much as he did. If not more. Patience would be his mantra. And he kept telling himself to lower his expectations a little.
It had occurred to Spike, multiple times that the two women might be simply be fucking with him.
The blood may have rushed out of his brain entirely, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.
What were the chances of landing a mother-daughter threesome?
One in a billion? One in eight billion?
In his brief sojourn into his bedroom, Spike had quickly checked out their social media profiles on his phone.
If pushed to guess, he’d have imagined that they were work friends having fun on the town. Safety in numbers and all that.
Which would account for the age difference. The mother and daughter thing probably just a mindfuck. And then he saw their Instagram accounts.
Buffy-Anne Summers and Dawn Summers.
Littered with recent pictures of each other. Of them together. By pools. On the beaches. Having fun in the sun. In bikinis. Doing lunch. Having dinner. Drinking wine. Enjoying sunsets.
Christ, Spike thought. They really are mother and daughter.
Spike, in that moment, knew he needed to make a decision. Whether to pursue this or not.
It took but a moment. Just the possibility of it was making him harder than Chinese math.
Forgive me Lord. I’m a bad, wicked man.
The question, he needed to answer, was whom he’d choose if it came down to it: Buffy or Dawn?
His brain told him he could only choose one. But little Spike wanted what little Spike wanted.
He wanted to shag em both silly. Until their brains were dripping out of their ears.
And in that moment, Spike saw it. A vision.
He saw the three of them curled up in bed. His face sporting the biggest shit-eating grin known to man. And for good reason.
Buffy was in one arm. Dawn in the other. Their perfect faces the very picture of contentment.
A moment later, Spike snapped out of it. He realized he’d been staring at the wall for a minute. He realized that his cock was absolutely throbbing in his pants.
“Some wine?” Spike offered. Eager to get some liquor in them.
“No, thanks,” Buffy said. Quickly.
But her demure response was drowned out by Dawn’s enthusiastic reply.
“Hells, yeah!”
Spike gave Buffy an expectant look. That Dawn more than matched.
“Why not,” Buffy said. Finally. “I could use a drink.”
“Coming right up,” Spike said. Giving a little bow.
When his back was turned, Buffy shot Dawn a ‘what the hell’ look.
Dawn simply shrugged her shoulders and mouthed ‘loosen up a little’.
Meanwhile, William had walked over to a cabinet by the wall and opened it.
Buffy saw him running his fingers over several bottles, pulling a couple out to examine them, before settling on the third one.
“A connoisseur, are we?” Buffy asked.
The slightest note of derision in her voice making him chuckle.
“A man’s gotta have some hobbies, luv,” Spike said. He held the bottle up to the light, examining its label.
“Like picking up strangers in bars?” Dawn said. Cheekily.
“You’re one to talk,” Spike shot back. “Not that I mind, mind.”
That made Dawn titter. Buffy sighed.
“Where are you from?” Dawn asked.
“Boston,” Spike said.
“Funny,” Buffy said. In a tone that indicated that she didn’t think it was funny. Not one bit.
“Seriously,” Spike said. “I was born in Boston. Then mum split when I was a wee lad and dad and me flew across the pond. Couldn’t take the memories, ya know?”
“Oh,” Buffy said. “Sorry.”
She did sound sincere, Spike noted.
“No worries,” Spike said. In a flat American accent now. “I’ve been back a couple years. Bouncing around the states. I can still do the accent if I really give it a go. But I’m afraid all the posh stuff keeps flippin’ up.”
Finally, Spike returned with the bottle of wine. And one wine glass.
Which made Buffy raise her brow.
“Maid been stealing?” Buffy enquired.
As William handed the wine glass to Dawn and prepared to open the bottle with the corkscrew.
“Figured you two wouldn’t mind,” Spike said. “Seeing as you…”
He paused. As if searching for the phrase.
“Do everything together,” he said. Smirking and giving Buffy a little quirk of his brow.
Who just plain blushed and looked away. Dawn, meanwhile, giggled.
Even as Spike poured the wine for Dawn he couldn’t help notice how drop-dead-gorgeous Buffy was.
More than Dawn? he found himself asking.
As he looked from woman to woman, Spike found himself in a conundrum.
Both women were stone cold foxes.
Dawn, fresh-faced with a killer body. And not nearly innocent as she played at. This was, after all, her idea. She would be easy, eager and, most of all, fun in the sack.
Afterwards, she’d be grateful and a tad clingy. But well worth it.
Buffy, on the other hand, would be a worthy challenge. A goddess. An ice statue-esque Ice queen he’d have to melt ?“ with his mouth, he wagered, ?“ before she’d even deign to part her legs for him.
When Dawn proffered the glass, he poured it out until it was half full. Dawn swirled the wine a little, gave it a little sniff, shut her eyes, then tipped the glass upwards, wetting her lips with the wine.
“Mmmmm,” Dawn said.
Spike was watching Dawn intently. Her cheeks flushing as she took a dainty sip. Her pretty face contorting with pleasure.
Buffy, watching Spike watch Dawn, suddenly felt the need to speak.
“May I?” Buffy asked. Extending her hand towards Dawn.
“You certainly may,” Dawn said. “Mommy dearest.”
“Thank you,” Buffy responded.
Dawn shot Buffy a look. As if to say don’t forget our little game.
“Daughter dearest,” Buffy added. Giving Dawn a nod of her head.
Christ, Spike thought. Christ forgive me.
Buffy gave the wine a sniff and glass a twirl. Then another. And another.
“A connoisseur are we?” Spike asked.
“A woman’s got to have hobbies,” Buffy retorted.
Only then did she allow herself to taste the wine.
“Mmmm,” Buffy said. Smacking her lips together. “That is good.”
“Right?” Dawn asked.
When Spike saw Buffy’s pink little tongue flicker out and run across her lips, he felt himself dangerously close to sensory overload.
“More wine?” Spike offered.
“Please,” Buffy said.
Spike quickly poured out another half glass.
Buffy leaned back, then took another long, languid sip.
Then passed the wineglass back to Dawn. Who took another sip.
“Yummy,” Buffy said.
“Delish,” Dawn corrected her.
And then, with an impish look on her face, added:
“And the wine isn’t half-bad either.”
Spike let out a chuckle. Dawn giggled. Buffy tittered.
Suddenly, all of Spike’s plans of being patient went out the window. In that moment, Spike knew he had to act.
“So,” Spike said. “This mother-daughter thing. This for real?”
Spike saw the women exchanged a look that was pregnant with meaning. Their expressions were a mix of amazement and amusement.
Already, he was kicking himself for saying the words.
This for real? Sound like a blithering idiot, mate.
“Well,” Dawn said. Drawing the word out.
She paused, deliberately, passed the wine glass back to Spike, then walked over to Buffy.
The women sidled up together and locked arms as he took a sip.
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Dawn said. Suggestively.
“We certainly are,” Buffy said. Playfully.
“So.. what does that tell ya?” Dawn asked.
Spike considered it.
“That this isn’t your first rodeo,” Spike said.
“Uh huh?” Buffy said. She was smiling now.
Dawn whispered something in Buffy’s ear that made her snicker.
Watching Buffy and Dawn carefully, Spike raised the wine glass to his lips and took a leisurely sip.
“Go on,” Dawn told Spike. Before Buffy whispered something back that made Dawn smirk.
They were both were watching him with growing amusement.
“So…” Spike said. “How do you two wanna play this, then?”
“I dunno,” Buffy said. She turned to Dawn. “What do you think, honey?”
“I think,” Dawn said. With a little shrug of her shoulders. “We should just… see how the night unfolds.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Buffy said.
“Right,” Spike said. “Fun. Yeah.”
Suddenly, a sip wasn’t nearly enough. Spike threw his head back and emptied the wine glass entirely.
Don’t fuck this up mate, he told himself. This is a chance of a bloody lifetime. A bloody mum and daughter shag, no less.
“So,” Spike said. He looked from Buffy to Dawn. And back from Dawn to Buffy.
They were staring at him. Expectantly. Waiting for him to make his move.
“Shall we dance then?” Spike asked. Extending his hand towards them.
The women exchanged another look. Another giggle.
“Which one of us are you talkin’ to there?” Dawn asked.
Flirtatiously.
“Yeah, Spike. Which one of us do you want first?” Buffy enquired. Suggestively
Dammit, Spike thought. Gritting his teeth.
Looking back and forth between them. Forth and back.
Agonising over his decision.
And suddenly, it came to him. He knew exactly how to play this.
Spike looked at Dawn. Then he looked at Buffy. He could see it as
plain as day. Then he looked at Dawn. It was written on her face. They both wanted him.
But he could only dance with one. For now.
“Dawn,” Spike said.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Chapter 3. Reworked.
Chapter End Notes:
More soon.