For the next few days, Buffy found her nerves on a knife’s edge. Every ring of the doorbell, every call and message on her phone, every e-mail would jangle her nerves. Faith accompanied Buffy to the hospital for her battery of tests, then collected the reports and sent them across to Fred. Buffy waited, and waited, and waited some more. March, turned into mid-April which turned into May. Meanwhile, Buffy quietly took care of all of the bills. They barely made conversation anymore, slept in the same bed but never touched. The whole affair hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles. William continued to look for a job without much success.
Finally, in the third week of May, on Monday, Buffy received the call she was dreading.
“Buffy,” Xander said. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” Buffy said, determined to keep this conversation as short and unpleasant as she could manage.
“Are you free this weekend?” Xander said.
She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Smug bastard, she thought.
“It depends,” Buffy said coldly. “Am I contractually obligated to be?”
To her chagrin, Xander only chuckled.
“You certainly are,” he grinned. “Unless of course, you’ve changed your mind. In which case, you’re more than welcome to return the money. At fourteen percent interest? That’s a couple of hundred thousand dollars?”
Buffy said nothing. She wanted to tell him to go to hell and that she was going to return the money, but she knew it was a childish fantasy.
“Buffy?” Xander repeated. “Are you free this weekend?”
Buffy knew Xander was enjoying his position of dominance over her. Savouring it.
“Yes,” she said, trying not to scream obscenities at him.
“Good,” Xander said. “I’ll send the car on Friday. Bring your passport.”
“Goodbye,” Buffy said coldly, her finger poised over the disconnect button.
“And Buffy?” he said, forcing her to wait just one more moment.
“Yes?” she said, harshly.
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, dropping his voice low.
“Tell me you haven’t.”
Buffy didn’t wait this time. She just hung up the phone, tossing it onto a the bed, then sat down on the side, wrapping her arms around herself. Only one thought kept going through her head. How was she going to tell her husband what he feared most was going to come to pass? How am I going to break the news to Will?
Friday morning….
Buffy paced in the bathroom, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. She’d spent the past few days trying to bring up the topic, but her nerves just kept failing her. She just couldn’t seem to get the words out. And now Will was getting ready to leave for a promising interview. This was almost certainly her last chance. It’s not like they’d been talking much anyway, other than a few perfunctory greetings.
Buffy took a deep breath and opened the door. He was gone. Buffy looked around and saw nothing. She heard his footsteps on the stairs.
“Will,” Buffy called out as she ran to the top of the staircase. She looked down. He was at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at her.
“Yes luv?”
Buffy swallowed. I have to tell him, Buffy told herself. I have to tell him right now.
“I…..” Buffy began.
He was looking at her. Softly. Hesitantly. Expectantly.
God, she thought. Tell him. Just tell him.
“I love you,” she said.
A sweet smile broke out on his face, something that made her heart shrivel up.
“I love you too,” he said.
Buffy tried to open her mouth, but found it impossible. And then he was walking to the door. The creak of the door shutting awoke her from her stupor. She bounded down the stairs and ran to the door, only to see him driving away.
Buffy grabbed her phone. Call him. Tell him to come home. But her finger refused to co-operate. It was then that Buffy realized that she’d never be able to tell him what she’d done. Never be able to say the words.
So how then? Buffy thought, miserably.
Buffy’s cellphone rang. It was Faith.
“Change of plans B,” Buffy heard. “The car is picking you up. Now.”
“Now?” Buffy said bewildered. “But that wasn’t….”
“It’s complicated,” Faith said. “But long story short. If you aren’t in that car you’re in violation of the contract.”
Buffy heard a knock on the door.
“I have to go,” she said, hanging up the phone.
It was an extremely well-built man, immaculately turned out.
“Buffy?” he asked. She nodded.
“I’m Adam. Mr Harris’s head of security. Are you ready to go?”
“I….”
“You don’t need anything,” Adam said, reassuringly. “Just your passport.”
Buffy took a deep breath.
“A few minute please,” she said.
Adam nodded, then turned around and shut the door. Buffy looked around. Her eyes fell on something on the drawing table. She snatched it up then went upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned, clutching just her passport. Buffy paused to examine her reflection in the mirror just near the door. Her beautiful hair looked dirty yellow and stringy, her eyes were red and her face was puffy. She looked awful.
Good, Buffy thought bitterly. I hope the bastard isn’t too disappointed with what he’s getting for his money.
Buffy walked out the door as Adam opened the limo door for her. Buffy took one last look at the house, then the cellphone in her hand, which displayed the name ‘William.’
“I’m sorry William,” Buffy whispered. Then she turned off the phone, placed it in the purse and got into the car.
Buffy was taken to the airport and chaperoned through until she reached a hangar. The door to the airplane was open. Buffy looked around. It was just her and Adam. She looked at him, questioningly.
“Mr Harris is abroad,” Adam said, delicately guiding her to the steps. “You’ll be flying to him.”
Buffy nodded, shrugging her shoulders, climbing into the plane. She looked around. Expensive looking leather seats surrounded by a home theatre and a bar that was stocked to the brim. A white velvet carpet covered every inch of the floor.
“Please,” Adam said, gesturing for her to sit. Buffy did, looking out the window as the plane taxied out and flew into the sky. She kept awake for as long as she could before, she let herself rest her eyes. Her last waking thought was of her husband.
Buffy awoke mid-descent, momentarily discombobulated. Daylight was fading. As soon as the plane landed, she was bundled into a luxurious car and taken to a hotel. Buffy couldn’t help but notice the beautiful surroundings—the lush fields, dense forests and a noticeable lack of pale faces—if she’d have to guess, she’d say she was on some sort of island.
At the hotel, she was escorted to a private elevator and taken up to the suite on the topmost floor, where a woman was waiting for her.
“Ms Buffy,” said the beautiful exotic looking woman. “I am Maya.”
“Hi,” Buffy said, for the first time, regretting the lack of effort she’d put into her appearance lately. Compared to this creature, Buffy felt she looked like a homeless person.
“I’m the valet for this private suite,” Maya said, smiling at her. “I’m at your service, always.”
“Thank you,” Buffy said. “It’s…..very nice.”
Buffy knew she was understating things. The suite was gorgeous. Like something out of one of her design books. Room after room after room with furniture that looked like it had been designed for
French royalty. But honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“You have a salon appointment at 7,” Maya said. “That gives you a few hours to sleep of the jet lag. Then dinner at 9.”
“Salon appointment?” Buffy echoed, flopping down on the bed.
“Mr Harris was very specific for tonight’s schedule,” Maya nodded.
Buffy thought of refusing, but what would be gained by that?
Besides, she didn’t want to do anything that would violate the terms of the agreement. She was, despite Faith’s and Fred’s reassurances, fearful that Xander would somehow find a way to screw her out of her money.
No pun intended B, Buffy heard Faith’s husky voice quip.
Get out of my head Faith, Buffy thought, massaging her temples.
“Okay,” Buffy said.
“There’s a telephone here if you need anything,” Maya gestured. “I’m number 9.”
“Can I dial out?” Buffy asked.
“Just dial 10 and the number,” Maya said. “Is there anything you need?”
Buffy shook her head.
“I’ll see you at 7,” Maya said.
Buffy picked up the phone, then just stared at it hesitantly.
At 10 minutes to 7, Buffy was gently roused from her bed. Maya was waiting with a tray of fruit, black coffee and toasted bread. Buffy ate only sparingly before being directed to one of the smaller rooms in the suite and guided into a long hot bath, after which about half a dozen women were waiting for her. Buffy was guided into a bathrobe and a chair, various cold creams were applied to her face and cucumbers placed on her eyes. Her dirty yellow hair was washed again and again and again until it shone like spun gold. Her legs were waxed until they were smooth then rubbed and oiled until they shone with a healthy glow. Her face was scrubbed until it was raw and pink and clean. Buffy was hustled in front of a vanity mirror where her hair was carefully curled and styled and her face was painstakingly made up. Then, before she knew it, she was being made to slip into a dress.
Buffy looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the uncomfortably tight silver dress. It showed an ungodly amount of golden leg and thigh, ending an inch below her panties. Not to mention it was backless, exposing her skin to the cool air-conditioned air and giving her goosebumps. And the shoes she’d been provided with were a pair of six-inch prada pumps. Something she’d have once loved to own, but that were putting a serious hurt on her legs and back.
You look beautiful luv, she could almost hear William whisper into her ear. His voice was tinged with sorrow. It sent a dagger through her heart, knowing that this was for someone else. Buffy knew she had never looked more gorgeous. Usually, she’d be proud, but for once, Buffy hated what she saw. Her beauty made her desirable to Xander. But he didn’t cherish her. Buffy made her face into an impassive mask. That’s how it’s going to be then, she vowed. Just a cold, impassive mask. No emotion. Just cold, unfeeling sex.
“Buffy,” she heard him say. Her skin crawled at the sound of his voice.
“Xander,” she said, draining her voice of any emotion.
She felt him walk up behind her. And then his reflection was next to hers.
“You look…” he said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Sensational.”
“Thank you,” she said insincerely, glancing at him. He was in an immaculately tailored suit that showed off his muscular physique. Buffy knew he’d dressed up to try to impress her and she made a point of not returning the compliment, knowing it would sting his considerable ego. But he didn’t even seem to notice. Buffy saw his eyes languidly run down her back, enjoying the skin on display. Buffy took in a quick breath when she felt his fingers on the small of her lower back.
“Beautiful,” Xander whispered, his thumb and forefinger stroked the
butter soft, creamy skin then massaged it experimentally, glancing up at Buffy’s face. It was impassive. Not a spot of emotion.
“Should I go undress?” she asked monotonously.
Buffy saw Xander’s eyes flicker with anger as he understood her plan. She was giving him her body and nothing else. Not one ounce of what made her her. The next moment Xander was cool again, but Buffy took immense satisfaction from his anger.
“You’ve got to find a more creative way to think about this,” Xander smiled, gently running his hand down to her waist, then squeezing it possessively. “I know I have.”
I’m sure you have, Buffy thought savagely. Bastard.
“Shall we?” Xander asked, not waiting for her reply, just guiding her
into the private elevator.
When the door opened Buffy was in a beautifully decorated ballroom, filled with opulently dressed couples slowly waltzing to classical music. Ordinarily, Buffy would have loved to join in, but not today. Yet she couldn’t refuse when Xander escorted her to the floor. Nor could she chide him when he pulled her intimately close.
“They’re all watching you,” Xander said, his hands running down her back.
Buffy didn’t have to be told. She knew most if not all of the eyes in the room were trained on them. She could feel the adoring, lustful gazes of the men and the jealous, wistful glances from the women. Some wishing perhaps that they were in her place. Buffy had to keep in a bitter laugh. If they only knew.
“How does that make you feel?”
Buffy ignored his question and looked away.
“I love it,” Xander said blithely continuing their conversation. "
Watching their faces when they see something they can’t have. Their jealousy, envy and greed laid bare. Definitely some of the best sins.”
Buffy felt anger when she realized what Xander was doing. He was showing her off. Like some prize toy. What compounded her fury was her inability to do anything about it.
“Do you have a favourite sin Buffy?” Xander asked. Buffy was spared a reply by the song ending. The couples broke apart, politely applauding the band and returning to their tables. Xander followed suit, guiding Buffy to a private candle-lit booth. Buffy sat in silence as the waiters laid out several plates of exotic foods, then opened an expensive bottle of champagne, content to roll her fingers over her glass stem as Xander described the fine vintage.
“It’s not going to work,” Buffy said, after the waiter had poured her a glass. “All this. It’s not going to make me forget.”
“This?” Xander queried, sipping his drink.
“We both know what this is,” Buffy said.
“Foreplay?” Xander smirked. Buffy flinched.
“Pretending,” she said. “That this is something it isn’t.”
“You’re pretending too Buffy,” Xander said.
“What the hell does that mean?” Buffy narrowed her eyes at him.
Xander smiled. “And you never told me what your favourite sin is?”
“Pride,” Buffy said snarkily. “Because it goeth before the fall.”
“I’d bet,” Xander said. “I can change your mind.”
“Oh?” Buffy challenged. “Is that right?”
Xander took a moment to consider his answer.
“My lucky silver dollar,” Xander said, removing a large coin from his pants, then showed it to Buffy.
“Heads is Pride,” Xander said. “If you win, you go upstairs. Alone. I stay down here for the rest of the evening.”
Buffy blinked. Alone? Was this a trick?
“Deal?” he asked, not waiting for her answer by tossing the coin high in the air.
Buffy was hypnotized by the coin’s revolutions. She saw Xander pluck it out of thin air. Buffy knew she had nothing to lose. She nodded. Xander opened his hand and showed it to her. Buffy looked away, the hope squashed inside of her.
Buffy closed her eyes. She could still see the soft smile on William’s face when she told him she loved him.
No, she thought. I’m not going to go there. I’m not going to think about Will.
“We go upstairs then,” Xander said, sliding over to her side. Buffy felt his lips at her ear, and his fingers stroking her thigh. “And indulge in my favourite sin.”
Lust, Buffy thought despairingly, closing her eyes.
When William returned the house was dark. He turned on the kitchen light, then placed the take-out food he’d gotten on the counter.
“Buffy?” he called. “Luv?”
No reply.
William tried her cellphone. No luck.
Prolly just at the supermarket, he figured. Battery must have drained. William waited in front of the Tv downstairs, trying not to keep checking his phone for messages.
He couldn’t wait to share the good news. At long last, he’d done it. He’d landed a position. It didn’t pay as much as the last one, to be sure, and it wasn’t going to get them out of the hole, but it was a good start.
William glanced at the clock. It had been a half-hour since he’d gotten home. And still no Buffy.
“Where are you luv?” he whispered, touching his phone. Suddenly William felt sweaty, dirty. His shirt was sticking to his body. He needed a bath.
Feeling slightly antsy now, William bounded upstairs. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them on the bed with abandon and took a hot, short shower. When he emerged soaking wet, he saw the mess he’d made on the bed and chuckled. He could hear her voice in her ear.
God, you’re such a pig Spike, she was saying. Did you grow up on the farm?
He bent over to pick up his clothes and froze. Underneath the garments, there was an envelope with his name on it. It was Buffy’s handwriting. He knew. At that moment he knew. But he wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. She’d talked about it, but there was no way Buffy would ever…No, not his Buffy.
William’s hand shook slightly as he lifted it open and took out the
hand-written note. His eyes began to well up as he read the first lines, blurring out the rest of the words.
I have to go Will. Just for a little while. And then we’ll be free. For the rest of our lives. You’ll always have my heart and soul. I love you. Nothing will ever change that.
B
William felt tears flowing down his face and dropping onto the note, smudging the beautiful penmanship. He didn’t know when his tears turned to anger. Suddenly furious, he tore the note to shreds and threw it away.
“Fucking bitch,” he screamed at the bits of paper. “Fucking….”
And then his voice broke.
Suddenly, William was on his knees, furiously trying to gather the tiny bits of paper and clutching them to his chest with both hands. He didn’t know when he curled up on the floor, suddenly exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep. So he slept. A dark, dreamless sleep.
When he awoke, it was dark. William looked around. It took a moment for him to put it together. Where he was. All alone. In their empty home. For a moment, William nearly called out for Buffy.
Her name was on his lips. And then he remembered. Where his wife was. With whom. And why. It made bile rise in his throat. William found himself needing a drink.
He dragged himself to his feet and their kitchen. Opened up their little-used liquor cabinet and grabbed whatever he could. There, sitting at their kitchen island in the dark, William found himself downing glass after glass.
William hoped the drink would clear his mind. Numb his feelings. Instead, it had the opposite effect. His nerve endings felt like they were on fire. He couldn’t stop himself from fixating on them. Where they were this very moment.
Had the billionaire taken his wife somewhere out in the ocean? On a fancy yacht in international waters maybe? Beyond the reach of the law to consecrate a unholy deal such as this?
Or maybe he’d whisked her away to some romantic city like Paris or Milan? Hoping somehow to woo her. To make her forget – at least for a time – the sordid nature of their arrangement.
Or maybe they were in some exotic island locale? On a beach somewhere with crystal clear waters. Soft, white beaches. With pink, fizzy drinks.
The thought came to him. Unwanted. Unheeded. Unbidden.
Had Xander fucked Buffy yet?
The likelihood that the billionaire had already been intimate with his wife left William exceedingly thirsty. He downed yet another glass.
William couldn’t help but consider it. He found himself considering it. From what he knew about Buffy – or what he thought he did before this sordid affair – jumping straight into bed with Xander wasn’t her style. Not even close.
No, he thought. Buffy would need to be wooed. To be eased into it.
William suspected Xander would be only too happy to play along. There was no hurry after all. He had plenty of time. He could imagine the billionaire’s game plan.
He’d want to take Buffy out. On a proper date. To have her on his arm. To show her off. Of that much he was certain. Hell, he’d even go as far to pick out Buffy’s outfit. Something in alluring red. Or perhaps black. Sexy, of course but elegant. Classy.
Something strapless. With a deep, plunging neckline. Cutting off mid-thigh. And six-inch high heels to show off her gorgeous legs. She, meanwhile, was in no position to refuse.
Then, once Buffy had gotten dolled up, would Xander pick her up. In a sleek, sexy sports car most likely. They’d go someplace exclusive and eye-wateringly expensive. The billionaire would order a $10,000 bottle of champagne right off the bat. Determined to impress her. To flaunt his wealth. Give her a taste of how the .1 percent live.
Then, dinner. Caviar, oysters, and truffles. Aphrodisiacs, one and all. Topped off by an exquisite chocolate dessert. Something truly sinful. A small taste of things to come.
William looked at the clock. It was nearly 1 am. Several hours had elapsed since Buffy left.
Were Xander and Buffy still at dinner? Was she enjoying herself? Just a little? Had the billionaire somehow managed to charm her? Or maybe… Maybe they were back at his place already.
The image of them flashed before his eyes. Buffy and Xander bursting through the suite door. Kissing passionately. Their hands all over each other.
“Christ,” William muttered. Shaking his head fiercely. He found himself eyeing the bottom of yet other glass of alcohol. He’d drunk enough to render himself senseless. And yet, he wasn’t.
William simply couldn’t fathom it. Why the drink wasn’t taking effect. And why he couldn’t stop thinking about them.
Again, he saw it. Buffy and Xander were kissing. Except now, they were on a large bed. His wife was assisting the billionaire in shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt. Revealing his incredibly ripped physique. Then lightly running her hands over his muscular chest and broad shoulders. His hands, meanwhile, were Buffy’s waist and lower back.
“Mmmmm,” she was moaning. Approvingly.
When kiss finally ended, Buffy opened her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes were burning with desire.
Buffy wanted Xander, William realized. She’d wanted him all along.
Xander knew. As evinced by the satisfied smirk he was wearing.
They just stared at each other for a few moments.
Not a word was said between them. None were needed.
The billionaire now leaned in again. And took his wife’s lips anew.
“Mmmmmhmmmm,” Buffy murmured. Approvingly.
Her left hand resting on Xander’s right peck for support. William saw it. On Buffy’s left hand. His wife was still wearing her wedding ring.
Had she neglected to take it off? Or had the billionaire insisted she leave it on?
Regardless, they were soon locked in a steamy, sensual kiss. Now, the billionaire had taken his wife in his arms. And, turning her around, was slowly laying her down on the bed.
William shut his eyes. Put his hands over his face. Trying to block out the images.
Instead, he found himself assailed by the image of Buffy’s perfect face contorted in bliss. As the billionaire’s face was buried between her legs.
“Goddamnit,” William swore. Slamming his fist into the island.
But the image remained before his eyes.
Now, he could hear Buffy’s moans.
“Oh,” he heard his wife murmur. Softly. “Uh. Uhhhhh.”
“Yeah,” he heard the billionaire say. Lasciviously. “Fuck Buff. You taste so good, baby.”
“Don’t stop,” he heard her whimper.
William found himself on his feet. Walking unsteadily to the bedroom. Blinking back tears. Finding himself questioning everything he knew. Their marriage. Their future. Everything they’d planned on for the rest of their lives.
William looked around. To see the new armoire they’d bought together at a flea market. The bathroom they’d renovated last spring. With the pink tiles she’d wanted.
The pictures Buffy had put up of them all over the place. Smiling. Arm in arm. On vacation. On holidays. On their wedding day. On their honeymoon.
Goddamn you Buffy, William thought. Finding himself blinking back tears. Goddamn you for doing this to me. To us. To our marriage.
Now, William found himself thinking of their Vegas vacation. Things hadn’t been perfect between them, but they had been going as well as could be. Everything had changed since then. Ever since Xander had offered them millions for a night with Buffy.
There had been gorgeous women all over the place. And yet, the billionaire had somehow zeroed in on his wife.
“Why did he have to choose Buffy?” William found himself muttering. As he sat on the bed. His hands gripping the bedsheets so tight they’d turned white. “Why my wife? My Buffy? Why?”
William recalled the infuriating smirk on the billionaire’s face when he introduced himself. It had remained all evening as he entertained them. The look in his eyes.
It was as if Xander was certain what would happen. That in just a few short hours, his wife would somehow end up in the billionaire’s bed.
William hadn’t been surprised by the proposal itself. It was the brazenness of it that had taken him aback. The matter-of-factness of it all.
He figured the billionaire would somehow try to get him drunk. Or divert his attention with another woman. But no. He’d come straight out and tried to buy Buffy.
William had found the look on Xander’s face as he and Buffy left the room hand-in-hand extremely satisfying. And yet, looking back now, William recognized something in the billionaire’s eyes. He was beaten sure. But not defeated.
Suddenly, William found the answer coming to him instantly. Why Buffy. Sure, his wife was drop-dead gorgeous. That was a no-brainer. But it was more than that. Xander wanted Buffy precisely because he couldn’t have her. Because she was unattainable. Out of reach. A challenge. Because she was married.
“Son of a bitch,” William swore. To himself. His hands squeezing the bedsheets even tighter. “Motherfucker.”
Suddenly, William found himself noticing a photograph of Buffy kept by the bedside. It was a photo from their honeymoon.
Buffy was lazing in a chair by the hotel pool. Wearing black sunglasses and a white, wide-brimmed hat. From under which her blond locks were flowing in loose waves.
But it was the one-piece yellow swimsuit that grabbed William’s notice. It was hugging every curve. Buffy’s firm, perky breasts. Her slender hips. Her tiny waist and flat, tight stomach. Showing off her tanned, toned arms and legs.
Buffy was wearing a minimal amount of makeup. Smiling slightly bashfully at being photographed. She looked devastatingly beautiful.
Then, the thought struck William. Buffy’s gorgeous lips. Her golden locks. Her slender hips and firm waist. Her tanned, toned arms and legs. Her perky breasts. Tonight, they belonged to Xander. Who had paid millions of dollars for the privilege.
Goddamn you Xander Harris, William thought. You motherfucker. You son of a bitch.
William found himself choking back tears. At the realization that the billionaire had turned his Buffy – his sweet, beautiful wife – into an escort. Nothing more than a high-class hooker.
William could scarcely imagine the billionaire’s satisfaction at the turn of events. At the knowledge that he had triumphed. Defeated them both. That the money had, in the end, won out. It made his heart ache.
Then, the gravity of it finally hit William. What was going to happen. The billionaire was going to fuck his wife tonight. Xander was going to be inside Buffy. The woman he loved. Several times most likely. As well as fulfill whatever other lurid fantasies he had been imagining. And William was powerless to stop it.
William looked at the photograph again. And found himself wondering what Buffy would be feeling. Knowing it was going to happen. That she was going to have sex with Xander tonight. For money. That she was going to be prostituting herself.
William could see Buffy being deeply disgusted by it. By him. By herself. By all of it. That she’d just lie there. Flat and lifeless. Bidding him to take what he wanted and get it over with.
But William couldn’t help but wonder. If some small, secret part of his wife was looking forward to it. Was excited by it even. The knowledge that she would be breaking her vows. Crossing a forbidden line.
Just then, William’s phone buzzed.
“Buffy,” he whispered. He snatched the phone up from the bedside table.
It was a message from an unknown number. William hesitated. Then took a breath and opened it.
And there she was. The woman he loved. Buffy Anne Summers. In all her glory.
Standing in front of a mirror. Her face perfectly painted. In a tight-fitting dress and six-inch high heels. The dress was perfectly tailored to show off Buffy’s best assets. Her legs that went on for days. Her lush, firm bottom. Her tight, flat stomach. But most of all, the plunging neckline revealing nearly all of Buffy’s firm perky breasts.
“Jesus,” William whispered.
William immediately tried calling the number. Nothing.
He tried sending it a message. Again, nothing.
Suddenly, it struck William. Why the billionaire had sent him the photo. Of his wife all dolled-up.
He wants me to see what Buffy looked like, William thought. On their big date. To remind me of what’s his tonight. The love of my life. My wife. My Buffy.
That’s right Willie, the billionaire’s smug voice seemed to say. Take a good look, mate. At just how sexy your wife looks tonight. How desirable. How damn fuckable. And all for me.
Son of a bitch, William thought. Motherfucker.
Now, William found himself staring at the picture again. He forced himself to focus. To look for clues. Something. Anything that would reveal where she was. Where they were.
Buffy was in a well-lit room. She was staring straight ahead. Seemingly unaware of the camera. Which meant that she hadn’t posed for it. For him.
William found himself examining the look on his wife’s face. At first glance, Buffy’s face was impassive. Inscrutable. But William could tell something was simmering under the surface.
It was something in Buffy’s eyes. Anxiety, yes. Anger, sure. But was there something else?
Suddenly, William’s phone buzzed again. It was a video call this time. From Buffy.
William immediately hit the accept button.
The face of the woman he loved filled the screen.
“Luv,” William said. “Where are you?”
“I don’t have much time Will,” Buffy said. In a low, soft tone. “I just wanted you to know that I’m okay.”
“Luv,” William said. His voice trembling. “Come home. Please. I need you.”
“Oh sweetheart,” Buffy said. Sadly. “You know I can’t do that. The money…”
“Sod the money,” William snarled. “Sod everything. I just need you. Here. With me.”
“I’m fine, Will,” Buffy said. “I just… I just need to ask you something, okay?”
“What?” William said.
“Just…promise you’ll be honest,” Buffy said.
William hesitated.
“I…I promise,” he said. Hesitantly.
“Do you….” she began. Then sighed.
“Do you like my outfit, honey?” she asked. In a voice as sweet as syrup.
“What?” William said.
His wife now held the phone up. It showed her sitting on a bed in a hotel room. She used her free hand to smoothen out the dress. A concerned look on her face. Now, she struck a sultry pose on the bed.
“I mean, I look smoking hot, right babe?” his wife asked again.
Rubbing her left leg against her right for emphasis.
“I…..” William began. In disbelief. “I don’t…”
Now, Buffy straightened up. She put her left hand on her hip. And gave him the familiar ‘Just say Yes, idiot’ look.
“Yeah,” William said. Hoarsely. “You…you look beautiful, luv.”
“Good,” Buffy said. Then sighed heavily. “I just wanted to look perfect tonight. I mean, it’s a lot of pressure, right? Going on a date with a billionaire?”
Oh shit, William thought. Oh fuck.
Only now did it occur to him. That someone they know – friends, family, or coworkers – might see a picture of Buffy and Xander on social media or some gossip website. His wife and the billionaire. On a date. In public. Giving rise to a million questions for him. With no possible answer.
William’s heart rose in his chest.
“Luv,” he said. His voice growing frantic. “Please. Don’t do this.”
“Oh honey,” Buffy said. Sympathetically. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. No one will know. And don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. You know that.”
“I can’t,” William said. Looking away. “I can’t bear it.”
“I know baby,” Buffy said. “I just thought it might help.”
William paused. Then looked at her. His wife’s expression was sincere.
“Help?” he asked. Confused. “How is this supposed to bloody help me?
Buffy sighed deeply.
“Help you accept things,” Buffy said. Softly.
William stared at his wife. Incomprehensibly.
“I can’t,” he said. Finally. Sadly.
“You have to,” Buffy said. Firmly. A tinge of sadness in her voice. “You know you do.”
William found himself unable to meet his wife’s eyes.
“Don’t do this Buffy,” he said. “Please. I’m begging you.”
A moment passed. Buffy exhaled. Heavily.
“To be honest….” Buffy began.
William looked up. To see his wife biting her lip. Hope flared in his chest.
“I’m actually kinda looking forward to it,” Buffy said. Dropping her voice to a confessional whisper.
“What?” William asked. Flabbergasted.
“I mean, can you blame me babe?” Buffy asked. Indignantly. “When was the last time you took me on an actual date?”
Try as he might, William couldn’t remember.
“Then there’s the fact that he’s hot and loaded,” Buffy added. Matter of factly.
“My girlfriends would be so freaking jealous if they knew,” she added. Girlishly twirling a strand of her golden hair.
William found himself confused now. At the abrupt change of tone from his wife
“Actually,” Buffy said. She seemed to consider it. Then smiled. “I am excited about it. Really, really excited.”
“What?” William asked. Horrified. “Luv, what are you saying?”
By now, an amorous look had settled across his wife’s face.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Buffy asked. “Look into my eyes, baby. Don’t I look excited?”
William could see it in his wife’s eyes. It was as plain as day. Buffy was excited for her date with Xander. William found himself speechless.
“I can’t wait for him to bring me back here later tonight,” Buffy said. Throatily.
By now, she’d flopped back down on the bed. And positioning her phone against a pillow, was running her hands down her body.
“And take this dress off me.”
“Luv,” William said. His eyes wide and disbelieving. His voice alarmed.
“We’re gonna be right here, Will,” Buffy said. Running her hand across the bed. “Naked.”
“Don’t,” William warned.
“His big, thick dick is gonna be inside me,” Buffy whispered. Her voice grew huskier. Her eyes grew more heated. “Pumping away.”
“Stop,” William snarled.
But she didn’t.
“I don't think he's the pulling out type either," she continued. Arching her back and licking her lips. "I honestly can't wait to find out."
William found himself horrified. And unable to form any words.
Now, Buffy sat up. Her face was contorted in a wicked smile.
“I mean, I gotta give him his money’s worth tonight, right babe?” Buffy asked. With a sly wink. “ And $10 million buys a whole lotta lovin.’”
Suddenly, the image of them was before his eyes again.
Except Xander and Buffy were no longer on the bed. Instead, they were in front of a roaring fireplace. On an expensive-looking white, fur rug. Naked and intertwined.
The billionaire was sitting upright. His legs straight out in front of him. His wife was in his lap. Her arms around his shoulders. Her legs behind his lower back.
Buffy was rocking and grinding on Xander. Slowly. Fluidly. The billionaire’s hands were on his wife’s bottom. Guiding her thrusts.
“Yeah,” Xander growled. Burying his face between her breasts. “Ride me.”
“Oh god,” Buffy moaned. Throwing her head back. “Oh fuck. Oooh!”
William put his head in his hands.
No, William thought. Not love. Not what we have. Just sex.
“You okay, blondie???”
William opened his eyes.
Buffy, he thought nonsensically. His drink-sodden mind somehow conjuring the possibility that his wife had returned.
Instead, he found himself looking up at Faith Lehane. His wife’s best friend.
William looked around. The phone was lying on the floor. He’d been asleep.
It was a dream, he realised. It was only a dream.
Then, he noticed Faith. The brunette’s eyes were tinged with pity.
William found himself hating what he saw in them.
“Faith,” Spike spat out. “It’s you.”
“I just wanted to check up on you,” Faith said. Softly. “See how you were doing. With everything.”
Spike shrugged.
“Peaches and cream,” he said. Dismissively. “All I need….”
Spike looked around to find his half-empty bottle of scotch on the bedside table, then reached out for it.
“Is my medicine.”
Spike chugged the bottle dry, then tossed it aside. The glass splintered with a heavy crash.
“Jesus Spike,” Faith said. “Get a hold of yourself.”
“Sod off,” Spike snarled, looking around. He spotted another bottle by the bedside table and reached for it. Faith grabbed his hand.
“That’s enough,” the brunette said.
“Yeah?” Spike said.
A beat passed. Faith saw a shadow pass over Spike’s eyes and his mouth contort into a wolfish leer.
“You’re right,” Spike said, maneuvering Faith’s hand until her palm was in his. “Enough booze. Let’s find something more fun to drown in.”
Uh-oh, Faith thought. This is not good.
“Stop it,” Faith said, when Spike used his strength to pull Faith against him.
“I’m serious,” Faith added, trying to squirm out of Spike’s grip as he manouvered her across his lap. “This isn't why I came here.”
“No?” Spike challenged, his hands moving to divest the brunette of her clothing.
“No,” Faith said, a little less forcefully than she should have, trying to thwart Spike's busy hands.
“Didn't cross your mind on the way over?” Spike queried, his hands pausing for a moment.
“No,” Faith said, lying through her perfect white teeth. Okay. It had. Faith couldn't exactly help herself. She was a human being, a woman in her sexual prime. And Spike was, well, a goddamn hottie. Faith's mind had strayed to those thoughts, before she'd firmly dismissed it. But Spike seemed to read her inner thoughts.
“See,” Spike said. “The thing is. I know all about your little college exploits.”
“Ancient history,” Faith said, rolling her eyes.
“I know where you live,” Spike sneered. “Wanting a taste of what you can't have. What you shouldn't have. What belongs to her.”
Faith couldn't stop herself from getting goosebumps. She'd always had a yen for what wasn't hers. And the thought of taking what belonged to Buffy. Oh my. That particular thought never failed to get her off. It was an itch she'd always wanted to scratch. She'd even come close once. But no cigar. Some itches never went away. And truth be told, she'd always wanted to jump the delicious Brit one of her best friends had married.
Faith sighed deeply, through her inner monologue.
Buffy's getting laid right now, Faith. Doesn't seem fair for poor William to be left out.
“This is a bad idea,” Faith said, after thinking about it for a few moments.
Not exactly a no, Spike thought, cocking a brow.
“Yeah,” Spike smirked. “But you're a bad, bad girl. And I'm a bad, bad man.”
And with that, Spike lay back, pulling a slightly reluctant Faith down with him.
Sorry B, Faith thought, when Spike pulled her mouth down on his and captured her lips in a searing kiss. I'm a bad girl. But then again, tonight, so are you.
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