Author's Chapter Notes:
Rated NC-17!!!!!! Do not read if you're underage.

Warnings for: Graphic sex, adult language and content

*Thanks to the lovely Tiana for beta'ing me!
*Thanks to Edgehead and Magz for the great banners!

Joss and ME own everything.
Buffy Summers sipped her glass of vodka as she watched the pay per view porn movie in her luxury hotel suite. This weekend was supposed to be spent with her father in New York City. It was to be part of his graduation present to her, just the two of them seeing the sights, taking in a play or musical, just being together like they used to. Since her parents divorced three years ago, she hadn't seen or heard much from her father, especially after he married Vicki. Oh, how Buffy hated that woman...

Buffy had arrived at the hotel excited and happy, but that didn't last long. The manager informed her that her father would not be coming. He gave her an envelope containing a note and her father's Visa Gold Card. The note read:

Dear Buffy,

I'm so sorry but I won't be able to join you this weekend. I was really looking forward to it too. But it couldn't be avoided. Vicki had to have emergency surgery, I won't go into the details now, but I'm sure you understand. You're welcome to stay in the suite and take advantage of everything the hotel has to offer. I sent my Gold Card ahead for you to use, go see a musical, buy some new outfits, charge whatever you like. I want you to have a good time. I'll call you soon.



"Love, Dad," Buffy said mockingly, screwing up her face and sticking out her tongue, then swigging the rest of her drink.

She snorted when she thought about what kind of surgery Vicki was getting. Probably getting the cellulite sucked out of her ass right about now. She'd taken dear old Dad's advice and had a grand time with his card. Hitting all the stores and buying new clothes, ordering room service, getting massages, cleaning out the mini-bar, ordering pay per view movies (porn and regular).

But all the crazy spending couldn't make up for not having any company, she was lonely. She was all alone in New York, she didn't know a soul in this town. All the people she loved were back in Sunnydale. She was getting teary eyed again.

Buffy growled and got up from the couch, moving into her bedroom. Boxes and bags from her shopping trips were scattered around the room and on the king-size bed. She looked through a bag from Victoria's Secret, she hated the name Victoria (her wicked stepmother's name) but they did have the best undergarments money could buy.

She stripped off her sweat shirt and gray sweat pants and slipped on a black, floral, lace chemise that came down to the tops of her thighs and the matching thong. She stood in front of the full-length mirror and struck sexy poses, wetting her lips, pouting and sticking her butt out. She pushed her breasts together and pursed her lips at her reflection.

"Oh boy.” She stood up straight. “I am so fucking bored. Back to the alcohol and porn.”

She put on the black half robe that came with her new provocative sleepwear and went back to the couch to finish watching the X-rated movie. She wasn’t a porn freak or anything, she just ran out of regular movies she could charge to her father, and she'd already watched 'The Mummy Returns' three times. She’d love to see his face when he saw the names of some of the more 'adult' features that she ordered.

Buffy found herself getting a little hot and bothered by the movie. Even when she tried not looking at the screen, the sounds of sex invaded her ears. She had only had sex once, with her ex-boyfriend Angel. It was her seventeenth birthday, they had been going out for six months and she figured that it was time. She thought that he loved her... but the morning after he treated her like a slut. Insulting her, mocking her. He turned into someone she didn’t even know and it hurt her terribly. She was through with men and sex from that moment on. In the year since they broke up, she hadn’t even tried to go out on another date with anyone else, despite her friends Willow and Xander's efforts to fix her up with someone, she would not risk having her heart broken and stomped on again. But she couldn’t deny that her body sometimes had other ideas. Like right now, she wanted to get laid real bad.

“I don’t need a man!” Buffy declared, throwing her shoulders back and holding her head high. She took another drink and relaxed back into the plush couch. “I’m a modern gal! And I’ve got... fingers.” She spread her legs and rubbed her mound lightly through her thong. “Note to self: Invest in a vibrator, ASAP.”

She watched the movie while she rubbed herself. She jumped when there was a knock at the door to the suite.

“Who the hell is that? I didn’t order anything... did I?” Her brain was a little foggy from the alcohol.

She pulled her robe closed and went to the door, opening it just enough to peek out. Buffy's mouth went dry at the sight that greeted her.

An extremely hot guy was standing in the hall in front of her, smiling the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. She opened the door all the way to see him better. He was about 5’10, wearing a stylish, black Armani suit, with a blue button-up shirt underneath, a black silk tie was knotted around his neck.

He had the face of a model: cheekbones that could cut glass; a strong chin; full, sensuous lips that curled into the aforementioned sexy smile; perfect teeth; a small scar tri-sected his left eyebrow, giving him a more roguish look; eyes that matched the color of his button-up shirt, azure blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer day, twinkling mischievously. His hair was dyed platinum blonde and slicked back. Judging by the waves it formed, it was naturally curly.

‘Humina, humina, humina...’ was the only thought passing through Buffy’s mind.

“Hello, cutie,” he drawled, his eyes roaming over her body for a moment.

“Uh... hi,” she said slowly.

“Are you Darla St. John?” he asked.

She had no idea what possessed her to say it, but...

“Yes,” Buffy answered. ‘What the hell did I say that for?! Stupid brain! Start working!’

His smile widened. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’m Will. From ‘Deluxe Escorts’. I'll be your escort for tonight.”

‘Escort? Oh my God! Escort as in escort service! He’s a gigolo or something! What do I do?! And is that an English accent? Oh God, it's so sexy!’ her mind went into overdrive.

“Great! I’ve been expecting you. Come in, won’t you?” She smiled coquettishly and stepped back, allowing him to enter.

‘What the hell am I doing! Oh God! I told him I’m somebody else and I invited him into my hotel room!’ Her libido had apparently taken over her body. Buffy's mind screamed that she was crazy even while she batted her eyelashes at him, shooting him a sly smile.

He walked past her, brushing by her shoulder, his face coming within inches of hers, her heart leapt in her chest at his nearness. He stepped in and looked around the suite.

Will (or Spike as he preferred to be called) was practically clicking his heels. As an escort, you never knew who was hiring you. He was pleased, to say the least, when the door opened to reveal the lovely and sexy young woman clad in the black silk nightgown. Sparks were shooting between them already. He had a feeling this job would prove to be one of his favorites.

“Lovely place you’ve got here, very posh,” Spike said approvingly.

“Yeah, um, it is nice.” Buffy wanted to slap herself for not being able to think of anything intelligent to say.

The color drained from her face when she realized that she left the porn movie playing on the TV. He turned his attention to it when the actors started moaning and yelling particularly loudly.

“OH GOD!” She ran over and turned off the set. Her face burned with shame, she buried her face in her hands. “I am SO embarrassed!” Buffy muttered.

“Don’t be, luv.” Spike smiled. “Everyone enjoys watching that kind of thing from time to time. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

She was adorable. It wasn't fair that she was probably the young trophy wife of some rich old coot. 'Some guys have all the luck..'

Buffy peeked at him through her fingers.

“It’s okay, really,” he assured her, he walked over to her and ran an index finger lightly up and down her right arm. She shuddered as goosebumps erupted on her skin from the fleeting touch. He pried her hands away from her face gently. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, pet. You’re a woman... you have... needs,” his voice was like caramel, thick and rich. That accent of his was driving her nuts.

“Uh-huh...” She nodded dumbly, staring into his eyes.

“What would you like to do first?” Spike said silkily as he looked at her body appreciatively, curling his tongue behind his teeth. “It doesn’t look like you’re dressed for a night on the town... would you rather... stay in tonight?"

“Uh-huh...” Buffy said. ‘Damn it! Say something smart or sexy, you stupid, stupid brain!!’ she yelled to herself.

Buffy reached out to stroke his silk tie, rubbing the material between her fingers while looking up at him from under her lashes. “You don’t... mind, do you?” She loosened the knot of the tie. She didn't know where this aggressive and seductive streak came from. She had never acted like this before.

“Not at all.” Spike grinned.

And that was the truth. Something about this woman drew him in. He would like nothing better than to worship at the altar of her body.

“Would you... um, like a drink?” ‘Good! Yes! Sophisticated adults offer each other drinks!’

“That would be nice, thanks.”

“Why don’t you have a seat on the couch,” Buffy said over her shoulder as she went to the refrigerator and got out a bottle of Dom Perignon that the hotel had supplied.

She picked up the two champagne flutes and sashayed over to the couch, sitting down beside him. She willed her hands not to shake. He was sitting turned towards her with one leg curled up on the couch, his other foot on the floor, one arm resting over the back. He accepted his glass with a wink and a smile.

Buffy tried to appear casual as she worked at opening the bottle. She couldn’t get the cork out. She clenched her teeth as she strained to remove it.

“Here, let me, luv.”

He took the bottle from her, after a few twists, the cork shot out with a loud *POP*. Buffy squeaked. They chuckled as he poured them each a full glass.

“What would you like to drink to?” Spike asked, holding his glass out.

“Um, how about...” Buffy wracked her brain for something clever to say. “To pleasure. Yours, mine... ours.” She remembered someone saying that in a movie once. It had the desired effect.

He smiled seductively. “I’ll definitely drink to that.”

They clinked glasses and each took a sip of their drink, never taking their eyes off each other.

“So... how long have you been... escorting?” Buffy asked, trying desperately to come up with conversation.

“About a year now. I don’t have many clients as beautiful as you, though.” Spike smirked.

She blushed. “You... think I’m beautiful?”

“Mmmm, very.” He sipped his champagne.

She gulped down the rest of her champagne and poured herself another glass. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this! Oh God!’

“Really, I can’t complain about the job. I get to usher around lovely, wealthy ladies, and it pays very well.”

“What do you do if get a really ugly chick?” The way he laughed made her heart flutter, so natural and boisterous, his eyes crinkled up in the most adorable way.

“Each woman is beautiful in her own way. Fat, thin, short or tall, it doesn’t matter. If they’re not particularly physically attractive, they usually have something else going for them that‘s equally as appealing: intelligence, sense of humor, kindness... Every one of them deserves to be treated like a queen,” Spike said sincerely, then sipped from his flute.

“That’s nice,” Buffy said, smiling. Even if he was handing her a line of bullshit, it was still a sweet thing to say. “What do you do when you’re not escorting?”

“A bit of this, a bit of that... not very successfully thus far.” Spike chuckled. “I enjoy writing and playing guitar but like I said, it hasn’t been profitable.”

“That’s too bad. But maybe you’ll get your big break someday!” she said supportively.

“Who knows? Maybe I will.” He grinned.

“Um... what about your... fee?” Buffy wondered if he took Gold Cards.

He furrowed his brow. “It’s been taken care of already, hasn’t it? That’s what they told me. You paid ahead of time...”

“Oh, yes, I know,” she tried to cover. “I meant your... gratuity. How much do you usually... get?”

Spike's face relaxed into an easy smile again. “Oh, that. Well, that’s totally up to you, luv. At the end of our evening, you decide what you think I... deserve.”

“Okay... I never did this before, and... I wasn’t sure what the normal tip was,” she said nervously. “What’s the biggest tip you ever got?”

“They can range from zero to... A woman once bought me a car, a Porsche Boxster. That was quite nice.”

Her eyes widened comically. “A woman gave you a car? Wow! That’s some tip! What did you do to deserve that?” Buffy put her hand over her mouth, wishing she could take back her question. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean..."

“It’s all right,” Spike laughed. “I showed her a good time. She was just extremely generous. Don’t feel compelled to compete with her. I want you to give me what you think the evening was worth.”

Buffy’s heart pounded hard in her chest as he placed his drink on the table and inched toward her. ‘OhGodohGodohGodohGod’ she chanted the mantra in her mind.

Spike brushed the hand of the arm he had draped on the back of the couch along her neck and over her shoulder.

“Y-You don’t look like a Will. It’s a nice name, but you seem more...” she struggled to find the words she was looking for in her lust-addled (and tipsy) state.

“Spike. My friends call me Spike.”

“That’s... unusual. But it kinda suits you.” She smiled.

“I use my real name on the job because some women were expecting something different when they heard the name Spike. Leather collars, handcuffs, that sort of thing.”

“Oh!” She giggled.

“You look so young, especially when you laugh like that.” Spike tilted his head slightly, smiling.

A wave of fear washed over her. “I get that all the time!” Buffy lied smoothly. “Getting carded at 30 is a nice compliment, but it gets tiresome having to drag out my I.D. all the time!”

They laughed. She felt a little guilty lying to him like this, but she wanted to appear more mature, she couldn't believe her luck that he was convinced she was this Darla St. John woman. 'Sorry, Darla, wherever you are!'

“Well, you look fantastic.” Spike moved closer, putting his lips on the side of her neck. She gasped silently and tensed up. He pulled away to look at her.

“What’s the matter, pet? You’re so tense. If you’d rather just talk, that’s fine...” He looked concerned.

“No. I w-want more. I’m just...” She didn’t want him to stop. ‘Damn nerves!’

Spike got an idea. Some of the women he escorted were nervous at first so he knew a few tricks to help them relax and enjoy themselves.

“How about you turn around and I give you a nice massage.”

Spike took off his suit jacket and laid it over the arm of the couch. He unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled them up to his elbows. Her mouth watered at the hints of muscle under his blue cotton shirt.

“Okay,” Buffy replied automatically, she turned her back to him, and he scooted up behind her.

She sighed when he placed his hands on her shoulders and began rubbing them gently. She rolled her head on her neck.

‘Good hands... oh, very good hands.’ she thought hazily.

“So tense...” Spike said as he massaged her, putting more strength into working the knots out of her back and shoulders.

“Yeah... work’s been a real bear lately.”

‘Homework that is! I’m so wicked!’ Buffy thought with a naughty grin. She was due to graduate high school in two more months.

Spike’s strong hands tirelessly worked on the muscles of her back, shoulders and neck for the next 15 minutes. Her head lolled down, chin resting on her chest.

“Hmmm -- Ahhh -- Spike, that feels so good!” she mumbled. “Is it okay if I call you Spike?" She’d never felt so relaxed and loose before. The masseuses that worked for the hotel had nothing on him and his magic hands.

“Call me whatever you like, pet. You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” he joked.

“Mmmm, that doesn’t sound like a bad thing... falling asleep on you.” Buffy flirted shamelessly.

He kissed the back of her neck gently. She gasped audibly at the feel of his warm, soft lips on her flesh.

“Did I mention how much I love your choice in clothing,” Spike whispered as he kissed a slow trail up the side of her neck to her ear. “You look so beautiful, so bloody sexy...” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth.

“This old thing?” Buffy breathed, closing her eyes and tilting her head to the side to give him more access. “Glad you like it.”

Spike turned her around to face him and caressed her cheek with one of his talented hands, his thumb traced her bottom lip. Her eyes were hooded and darkened with desire as he leaned in and placed his mouth over hers.

‘Soft... soft lips...’ they both thought at the same time.

Spike kissed her softly and slowly, the tip of his tongue sweeping over her lips. Buffy parted her lips eagerly and accepted his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues tangled gently with each other’s. She moaned loudly into his mouth when he sucked lightly on her tongue. He pulled away and began kissing down her neck. The hand that wasn’t touching her face slid up her leg to her hip, up her side to cup a breast. He brushed his thumb over a silk covered nipple, causing her to moan again.

“Spike,” she said huskily. “Ohhh...”

Spike pushed her silk robe over one shoulder, exposing her creamy skin. He placed soft, wet kisses along her shoulder. She rolled her head to the side.

Spike reclaimed her lips with his, more intensely this time. As they kissed, Buffy's hands slid up his chest to his tie, undoing the knot and slowly pulling it apart. She tugged on it until it came free from the collar of his shirt and threw it aside with a flourish. Spike pulled back and rested his forehead against hers as they drew in deep breaths.

“Would you like to go into the bedroom now, luv?” Spike asked in a low voice, then sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” Buffy replied with half-closed eyes as she swept her tongue over his lips.

Spike stood up and offered her his hand and pulled her up with him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her deeply, Buffy brought her arms up, one hand going to the back of his head, tangling in his hair, while the other ran over his cheekbone and jaw. Buffy felt herself getting wetter and wetter, she was more turned on than she had ever been before. The fact that she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, for so many reasons, was a huge turn-on.

“Show me the way,” Spike purred, stepping back.

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