“So, who made the decision?” he asked.
Buffy Anne Summers turned her head slightly.
Alexander Lavelle III was leaning against the railing of the high-rise hotel room casually. Almost as casually as he’d posed the question. In his bespoke Saville Row suit and perfect wing-tipped Italian shoes.
The billionaire’s hair was slicked and set back. His head was crooked slightly to one side. His face was wearing an infuriating smirk.
It was a question Buffy would rather not answer.
“Does it matter?” Buffy asked. Snippily. Looking straight ahead. Again.
Xander chuckled. Now, he turned. And drank in the sight of her.
The gorgeous blonde was standing ramrod straight. Her hands placed on the railing. She was wearing her glossy, blonde hair down to her shoulders. Exactly the way he liked it. Her face had been painstakingly painted. Her eyebrows plucked. Eyes given a smoky hue. Cheeks contoured to perfection. Lips glossy and kissable. Her cute as a button nose flaring.
Xander’s briefly eyed her soft, creamy neck, before feasting on her high, firm breasts. His eyes ran over her tight, flat stomach before admiring the curve of her hips and her pert, voluptuous bottom – and her killer legs – both accentuated even more by six-inch high heels.
She just so also happened to be wearing the hell out of the silver mini dress his stylists had chosen for her.
Christ, she was beautiful, Xander thought. Gorgeous, actually.
No, Xander thought. Tonight she looked far beyond gorgeous. Downright stunning in point of fact.
And tonight, she was his. All his. To do with as he pleased. After months of waiting. Finally.
The wedding ring on her finger be damned.
Xander wondered if Buffy had truly forgotten to take the ring off. Or was simply waiting for the opportune moment to slip it off. A symbol of what she was putting aside when she went to bed with him. Imminently.
Hell, not that he cared. In fact, he’d prefer that she leave it on. It would make his victory over her poor husband William all the sweeter.
“I’m just curious,” Xander said. “About what made you change your mind.”
“We weren’t going to,” Buffy said. Now, a faraway look came over her eyes. “But then…things changed.”
Buffy took in a breath. Then blinked. Despite everything – the farce her life had degenerated into, the fact that she was here – she couldn’t help but admire the breathtaking view. Underneath them was an exotic island city. Filled with lights and fire. Love and laughter. But there was no love for her here. No laughter. Not tonight.
Briefly, Buffy wondered where she was. Where they were. Not that she’d asked. Or he’d offered to tell her.
“And both of us made the decision,” Buffy said. Finally. “Together.”
Like hell, Xander thought.
The thought of it – Buffy and William discussing the finer points of Xander’s offer and the arrangement – made Xander chuckle. Heartily.
“You don’t know him,” Buffy said. Fiercely. “And you don’t know me.”
“In the end he didn’t refuse,” Xander pointed out. He took a step closer to her.
“I’d never share you,” he added. His voice turning deeper. “Not with anyone. Not for all the money in the world.”
“You’re judging him?” Buffy said. Incredulously. “You’re the one who has to buy women.”
“I don’t,” Xander said. Off-handedly. “Ever.”
“So… what is this then?” Buffy asked. Sceptically.
Xander shrugged.
“You said I couldn’t buy you,” he replied. Now, he reached out. And gently touched her bare shoulder with a finger. “So I proved otherwise.”
“You can’t buy me!” Buffy said. The indignance in her voice took him aback.
Made his eyebrows rise to new heights. Wonder if she’d somehow misunderstood their arrangement.
“We’re just gonna fuck,” Buffy said. In a flat, matter of fact tone. “That’s all.”
Now, Xander smiled. That was music to his ears.
“We certainly are,” Xander said. Now, he stepped behind her. Then using his finger to roll the right strap of her dress down her shoulder. “I have you all to myself, tonight. Best deal I ever made.”
“Point proved,” Buffy said. Coldly.
“You might like it,” Xander quipped. He bent his head a little. Inhaling the sweet smell of her.
Buffy certainly smelled as incredible as she looked, Xander thought. He wondered if she’d taste equally as sweet.
“Don’t bet on it,” Buffy fired back.
“I think I will,” Xander said. Now, he bent his head down a little. And languidly brushing her golden locks aside, pressed his lips to the back of her neck. Buffy’s back stiffened even further. But she inhaled sharply. And the slightest shiver went through her body.
Bingo, Xander thought. He made a mental note to give the investigator who’d interviewed the bloke Buffy had slept with in college – while she’d briefly broken up with her then soon-to-be husband – a bonus.
The guy had bragged about discovering a pleasure spot on Buffy’s neck during their tryst. Of course, Xander had made sure the guy suffered later. He did hate braggarts.
Now, Xander placed his hands on Buffy’s hips. Then leaned forward and placed his lips near her ear.
“I bet you’re going to enjoy this,” Xander said. “Almost as much as I am.”
Buffy made to utter a retort. Something witty. And scathing.
“Turn around,” he added.
Buffy blinked. She knew she had no choice. This wasn’t a request. It was a command.
When she did, she found him standing close. Too close.
Acting on instinct, Buffy took a step back. To distance herself from him. Only to find herself off balance and threatening to go over the railing. Buffy gasped. Her arms shot out. And found only air.
Xander quickly leaned forward. Then, grabbing Buffy by the waist and by her elbow, pulled her back to safety. And straight into his arms.
Now, Buffy found herself left with nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. The desire in his eyes made Buffy bow her head. With embarrassment. And shame. For what she was about to do. For money. With him.
“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to,” Xander said. His tone was gentle. Soothing. “Trust me.”
Now, Buffy scoffed. When she raised her head, he saw her eyes were scathing.
“I could never trust you,” she said. Her voice dripping with disdain. “No more than I could ever love you.”
Xander took a beat.
“Fair enough,” he said. Now, he placed both hands on her hips.
“Now what say you and I….” Xander added. Looking her up and down and licking his lips.
“Carry on this truly fascinating conversation in a far more comfortable location.”
Buffy glanced over his shoulder. To the King-sized bed awaiting them. And a chilled bottle of champagne on ice by the bedside.
You have to, Buffy thought. You know you do.
“Hmmmm?” Xander asked.
Buffy took a small breath. Then nodded.
Now, Xander stepped back and Buffy stepped forward. They took another step. Then another. Buffy glanced over his shoulder again. The bed was getting perilously close now.
“Undress me,” he commanded. Imperiously.
Buffy placed her hands on his shirt, then began undoing his buttons. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Anything to not think about what she knew was going to happen. Slowly, she undid button after button. All the while attempting to ignore his hands – which went from her waist to her lower back. Then her bum.
Finally, Xander’s shirt was unbuttoned. And they were standing by the bed. Now, he stepped back and casually tossed his shirt aside. Revealing his killer physique. His stomach was rippling with abs. Not an inch of fat on them. His upper body was muscular without being bulky. Quickly, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. Revealing his silk boxer shorts emblazoned with the initials XHIII.
Buffy tried her best not to look at him. She had figured that he, with all that time and money, was in great shape.
Now, Xander plopped down on the bed. And putting his hands behind him, leaned back.
“Now, lemme see you take off that dress,” he commanded. Like the sultan of Assholistan. “Nice and slow.”
Bastard, Buffy thought.
For a moment, Buffy just stood there. Nervously. Wringing her hands.
God, she thought. What am I doing?
Meanwhile, Xander had picked up the champagne bottle on ice placed in a bucket by the bedside. Already, he’d begun to celebrate.
“Take your time baby,” Xander said. Placing his thumb at the mouth of the champagne bottle, he expertly popped it open. Then poured the fizzy drink into a champagne glass placed by the bedside. “We have all night.”
Now, Buffy scoffed.
Baby? Like, seriously?
Xander picked up the champagne glass. Then, looking up at Buffy, took a leisurely sip.
Buffy found herself standing there. Frozen.
“Some liquid courage?” he asked. Wryly. Offering up the glass.
Buffy hesitated. Then scooped up the bottle instead and took a long, defiant swig.
Now, Xander laughed.
That’s right, he thought. That’s exactly what I wanna see, Buff. The fire. The passion.
Suddenly, his patience seemed to run out.
“Take that dress off,” he said. “Now.”
You have to, Buffy thought. So just do it. Get it over with.
Still holding the bottle in her right hand – in case she found herself needing more – Buffy reached behind herself with her left. Carefully, she found the hook of silver mini dress she was wearing. And unclasped it.
Another moment passed. Buffy took in a breath. And the dress fell to the floor. Leaving her clad in just her lacy black bra and panties. And her high-heels.
Xander’s eyes darkened at the sight of her. He sat up a little. To better admire the view.
Buffy Anne Summers was a goddess. A golden goddess. And worth every goddamn penny.
“Fuck Buff,” he rasped. Licking his lips. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”
Buffy just stood there. In truth, she felt utterly ridiculous in this get up. The entire situation felt like a farce.
Now, Xander to scooted the edge of the bed.
“What are you…” Buffy began. Skittishly. Forcing herself not to jump back.
When he planted a gentle kiss on her left thigh, Buffy gasped.
“So beautiful,” Xander mumbled. Then kissed her right thigh. “So fuckin’ sexy. My beautiful Buffy.”
Not yours, Buffy wanted to protest. I’ll never be yours.
Instead, she took another long, swig of the champagne.
“Do you think he’d enjoy it?” Xander asked. Suddenly. Looking up at her.
The question threw Buffy off balance.
“He?” she asked. Blankly.
“He,” Xander confirmed. Eyeing her high heels as he ran his hands up and down the back of her legs. “Him. Your husband.”
Buffy’s eyes turned deadly. Her nose flared. Her expression turned forbidding.
“Can. We. Not. Talk?” Buffy asked. Through gritted teeth.
“I’m just curious,” Xander continued. “If he’d enjoy it.”
“Enjoy what?” Buffy asked. In a deadly voice. She wasn’t really asking. More like telling him to watch himself.
“Watching us,” Xander said. Placing his hands on her hips. “Making love.”
Now, Buffy just stared down at Xander. Open-mouthed. Lost for words.
“I think William might get a little kick out of it,” Xander said.
Now, he brought her down to the edge of the bed besides him.
“Watching me take you in my arms,” he added.
Buffy was close enough to see it in Xander eyes. His dark desire.
Buffy steeled herself. But instead found herself surprised when he knelt on the floor in front of her.
“Laying you down and worshipping you. Like the goddess you are,” Xander said.
By now, he’d began running his mouth all over her legs. Her breathing quickened.
“My lips everywhere,” he added. “My tongue inside you. Reaching deeper than you could have ever imagined. Making you moan my name. Over. And over. And over again. Until you give yourself to me completely. Until you forget he even exists. Until you tell me you need me inside you.”
He paused now. To find Buffy leaning back. Her hands spread out behind her to supporting herself.
Her face was angled upwards. Haughtily. Her expression was scornful. Her fiery eyes were filled with contempt.
“You’re disgusting,” Buffy said. Finally.
“And you’re quivering,” Xander said.
Buffy took a moment. Then realised that she was. With anger. And disgust.
“Tell me what you want, Buff,” Xander said. “What you need.”
To be home, Buffy thought. With Will. Not here. Not with you.
The thought drove her to take another deep swig of the champagne.
Then, Buffy placed the bottle on the bedside table. Within easy reach. She figured she’d need afterward.
“What…” she began. Then took in a breath and shut her eyes. “What do you want me to say?”
“Remember the first time we met?” Xander asked. Now, he placed his forefinger on her belly button. Then gave it a little tweak.
No, she wanted to say. But she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Besides, she did remember. It was, if nothing else, memorable.
“Yes,” Buffy said. Trying to clear her mind.
“I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” Xander said. His voice turning rough and low. “And you knew that. Didn’t, you?”
“Yes,” Buffy said. Her voice trembling with emotion.
I wish you’d never seen me, Buffy thought.
“I promised myself I would take you to bed that night,” Xander said. He languidly ran his finger from her belly button to the waistband of her panties. “Christ, I wanted you so bad.”
Buffy took in a quick breath when he began toying with the fabric.
It’s just sex, Buffy told herself. Just sex. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Tell me what you want Buff,” Xander said. His heated breath on her thighs.
“What…” Buffy began. When he kissed her thighs again, she bit her lip. “What do you want me to say?”
“Why don't you tell me what you and Will do...” Xander said. “And we’ll do the opposite.”
Now, Buffy’s eyes opened. They were acerbic and disdainful.
“Obsessed with him much?” Buffy asked.
“I’m just saying,” Xander said. “I'd be surprised if he knew what to do with you.”
Now, Buffy scoffed.
“And you think you do?” she asked. Acidly.
“I'll tell you what,” Xander said. “I'm gonna let you be the judge of that at the end of the night.”
“And you think… what?” Buffy said. “That’ll make a difference in my low opinion of you?”
Xander shrugged.
“All you have is my body,” Buffy said. “That’s all you’ll ever have. You know that, don’t you?”
Now, Xander sat up on his haunches.. Bringing them face to face. Nose to nose.
“Is that right?” he asked.
Then leaned forward to take her in his arms again.
“It’s not my heart,” Buffy said. Defiantly. Even as he his hand reached behind her to unclasp her bra. “Not my soul. You’ll never have those.”
Now, Xander paused. Buffy felt elated.
For the first time, she saw indecision flicker across his smug, confident face.
But only for a moment. And then it was gone.
“I’ll get over it,” the billionaire smirked. His hand on the clasp of her bra.
“Question is,” Xander said. “Will poor Willie ever get over the fact that I and his precious, perfect Buff….”
Suddenly, Buffy grabbed Xander by the throat. Hard.
“Don’t talk about him,” she said. Eyes gleaming with fury. “Ever again. Or I swear to god, I will end you.”
Buffy followed through on her threat by squeezing his windpipe. With a surprising strength he couldn’t have imagined she possessed.
But knowing she could probably kick his ass only made him want her more.
“Okay,” he croaked. “Okay.”
A moment passed. Buffy let go of his throat. And dropped her hands to her side.
Xander stood. Then, stepping back, massaged his throat. And cleared his voice.
Finally, having regained his composure, he stepped forward. And extended his hand in her direction.
“Shall we?” Xander asked.
Buffy took one deep, cleansing breath. Then, placing her hand in his, allowed him to pull her to her feet and into his arms.
“Yes?” Xander asked. One final time. For confirmation.
“Yes,” Buffy whispered. As he placed her hands around his neck.
“I meant what I said,” Xander said. Leaning forward, he picked her up. Easily.
Buffy’s hands tightened around his neck of their own accord. Her legs briefly flailed in the air – before he guided them around his waist.
“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to,” Xander said. Stepping forward and onto the bed. “And that’s a promise.”
And then they were falling, falling, falling down onto the bed, tangled together.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The Deal