Their sweat soaked bodies crumpled to the bed in a heap, their limbs entangled, their breathing heavy.
"That was amazing," Xander rasped, once he'd caught his breath.
He still couldn't take his eyes off her. Her eyes closed, her hair still inconceivably perfect, her cheeks flushed red, beautiful lips parted to draw breath revealing just a hint of her tongue. Her skin sheeny with sweat. She'd never looked more beautiful. God, he wanted her more than ever.
"That was..." Buffy began, trailing off to catch a deep
breath, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Hunh..."
Good, Buffy thought. Better than good, if she were being honest with herself.
Buffy simply trailed off, heaving deep sighs until she'd
caught her wind.
Xander didn't want to move an inch, but he was absolutely bursting to take a piss.
"Thirsty," Buffy said, almost absentmindedly. Xander reached to his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of Evian, took a little sip, then handed it over, watching as she put her beautiful lips to the bottle and began drinking.
"Bathroom," Xander said, apologetically.
Buffy shrugged as if to say, if you've gotta go, you gotta go.
Xander looked at her ruefully, hating that he had to leave. Then he decided he'd better make it quick.
"I'll be back," Xander said, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on Buffy's lips The girl in question hesitated momentarily, then puckered her lips. The 'smack' of their mouths confirmed the continuation of their 'arrangement.'
Buffy watched Xander go out of the corner of her eye, sipping the water. When Buffy was alone, she let herself search her feelings in the aftermath of what she'd done. She felt...nothing. Not anger. Not sorrow. Nor regret. Just numb. Just numb. Comfortably numb.
"Hunh," Buffy said. Maybe I am a real bitch, she thought, screwing up her face. Feeling nothing?
Buffy reached over to put the bottle of water on the bedside table. That was when she spotted it. Her wedding ring. Sitting on the table. Accusingly.
Buffy looked at her hand. She wasn't wearing the ring. Buffy searched her memory. She remembered coming into the hotel room. Getting into the heels and raincoat and sitting on the bed, waiting for Xander. She had no memory of ever taking it off. And yet there it was. Sitting on the bedside table.
And that was when it hit her. The shock of what she'd done. The magnitude of it. It was like jumping into an ice-cold lake. And then all she felt was a cold panic that wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed.
"Oh," Buffy whispered. "Oh god."
When Xander returned, Buffy was crying. Hysterically. He remained frozen to the spot. She was on the floor of the room. She'd torn off the bedsheets, then wrapped it around her. Frantically searching for something under the bed.
"Buffy?" Xander asked uncertainly.
"Clothes," she mumbled, again and again. "Clothes...I need my clothes...Need to...oh god..."
"What?" Xander asked.
"My clothes!" Buffy screamed at him. "Don't you understand? I need my fucking clothes."
Buffy turned away from him, leaving him perplexed.
"I have to...go home," Buffy whimpered. "Oh god. I can't
go home. After what I...what we..."
And suddenly Buffy seemed to notice Xander.
"You," she spit out. "Bastard."
Xander rolled his eyes. Not this again.
"You took advantage of me," Buffy protested.
"We took advantage of each other," Xander said, smirking. "Besides, I'm not the one who showed up in your hotel room wearing nothing but a flimsy silk bathrobe."
Buffy flinched at that statement.
"And why do you think I came here?" Buffy said, bitterly.
"Because I knew exactly what type of man you are."
"And what type of man is that?" Xander asked.
"A bastard," Buffy hissed. "An asshole. A no good son of a bitch who would stop at nothing until he got exactly what he wanted. Regardless of who gets hurt."
"You came here of your own free will Buffy," Xander said.
"But you knew," Buffy said. "Didn't you? That's why you made the offer. You knew what it would do to him. To us. And you didn't care."
Xander shrugged. Truth be told he still didn't care.
Buffy turned away from him, visibly disgusted. With him. With herself. With this whole sordid affair. Buffy wrapped
her arms around herself, weeping softly.
Xander sighed deeply, plonking down on the bed.
"Why are you crying?" he asked softly.
"Because," Buffy began. "I betrayed my vows. My marriage. My husband."
Xander scoffed at that. Loudly.
"It may not mean anything to you," Buffy said angrily wiping her tears away. "But some people actually believe in these things."
Buffy took a few deep breaths until she'd controlled her sobs.
"I should go," she said, standing up. Buffy held the sheet to herself tight, stepping over the mess they'd made earlier. Xander was up in a flash, standing in her way.
"I have a better idea," he said, his hands on her waist, trying to peel the bedsheet from her body.
"No," Buffy said, trying to push him off. "Stop."
"I know why you came here Buffy," Xander said,
maneuvering her towards the direction of the bed.
Buffy's eyes widened. He knew about what William had done?
"Because he hurt you," Xander said. "Didn't he?"
And then Buffy remembered. Why she'd come here. What
he'd done.
"Yes," Buffy said, her breath catching somewhere between a sigh and a sob.
"I just want to make you forget," Xander soothed. Buffy felt the back of her knees touch the bed. "Make you want to feel good."
Buffy knew Xander was lying. He didn't care about her. He was only in it for himself. But the truth hurt so much right now, she couldn't help but find herself wanting the soothing embrace of a lie.
Forget, Buffy thought. Just for a little while. It would be so
easy. Just to lie down for a while and forget. And then she was letting Xander push her down onto the be
William paced in his living room, glancing at the clock. It was now 4pm. He had been up all night. Going out of his mind with worry. Calling Buffy's phone. Leaving countless text messages. But there was no sign of her.
He'd even tried calling the police, but they told him he needed to wait for 24 hours before he could file a missing person's report. William had left his home in the early hours of the morning, going from bar to bar. Questioning the customers, the staff, random passers-by. He'd been to the bus stop and the train station. Hell, he'd even been to the airport and the mall.
Finally he'd come home, hoping that she'd already be there. Smiling at him. With an explanation that made sense of things. But the house was empty. Still. It was driving him crazy. He sat down on the sofa, intending to rest his eyes, just for a moment.
He awoke to the sound of the door opening. He switched on the light by the sofa to see her standing at the foot of the stairs. He wondered if it was really her or if he was still dreaming.
She looked so beautiful, it made his heart hurt. And then she looked at him with eyes that were a kaleidoscope of
emotions; anger, sadness, hurt. She looked tired. The circles under her eyes that betrayed her lack of sleep.
A million things raced through William's mind but there was only one question on his lips.
"Where were you?" he said, his voice quivering slightly
Buffy exhaled loudly at his words. "Where was I?" she repeated, as if asking herself the question.
"None of your business," she said dismissively, making to move up the steps. She took one ginger step, then another, moving as if she were in pain. Her answer made William angry, as she knew it would. He took two steps after her, then another two up the stairs.
"I have a right to know Buffy," William said, grabbing her arm.
"Do you?" Buffy challenged.
"I'm your husband," William said.
"Yes," Buffy said, a small bitter smile playing on the edge of her mouth. "You are. And I'm your wife."
And with that she shook off his hand and took two steps
away from him.
"Damnit Buffy," William said, smashing his fist against their wall. "Where were you last night?"
Buffy paused. Even though he was looking at the back of
her head, William knew things had just gotten worse. Her whole body had tensed up. Like an uncoiled spring. He could practically hear her gritting her teeth. When Buffy looked back down at her husband, her face was a cool impassive mask.
"Are you sure you want to know?" Buffy said. William gave the slightest nod. Buffy took a deep breath.
"I was with Xander," Buffy said. As if it were that simple.
As if that explained everything.
William felt like he had been gut puched. The wind left his lungs entirely.
With Xander? Buffy had been with Xander? Again? A man she hated?
At that moment his brain couldn't even process saw the confusion on his face. The bewilderment.
"Doing what?" William said. His voice was nearly a whisper. He knew, but he didn't believe. Not yet.
For a moment, he saw pity in her eyes. And then he knew. He could see it now. As clear as day. And on her face. The shame of it. The embarrassment of it. The regret. What she'd done. But he also saw defiance. The 'I dare you to call me on it spirit' that he so loved about her.
"Doing what?" Buffy repeated incredulously. "Doing what?"
She exhaled loudly, closed her eyes and shook her head.
When her eyes opened, they were hard and cruel.
"Use your imagination," Buffy said coldly. "I know Xander sure as hell did. "
Buffy turned her back on her husband, who was still standing there, shell-shocked.
"Actually don't," Buffy said, turning back to look at him. "I'll tell you exactly what we were doing."
"Xander and I," Buffy said, stepping down so that she was within arms reach of William, who took a step back. As if she had struck him.
"Were up all night. Doing every nasty thing you can think off," Buffy said.
"Twice," Buffy said, with an acerbic smile, holding up her fingers in a victory sign.
William felt as if he'd been shot. As if he was bleeding from the chest. He sank to the floor of the staircase, tears filling his eyes.
"Oh and today," Buffy said, her voice cruel. "Today we did things you can't even imagine."
"Why?" William said hoarsely, unable to look at her. He knew though.
"Faith," Buffy spat out, like the name was poison. The poison in their marriage.
There was a long pause...
"I can explain that," he said miserably. "I was..."
"I don't care," Buffy said. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. I only came to pick up my things."
William looked up sharply.
"What?" William said. He hadn't even had a chance to get angry. This took him entirely off guard.
"We," Buffy said, her voice breaking for the first time. The implacable mask slipping. "We need to take some time. To think."
And with that, she marched back up the stairs.
"Do," William said, pausing to take in a breath that seemed to pierce his ribs. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Buffy paused at the top of the stairs. She knew how much it had cost him to say that. To say those words. Her words. Words she'd said to him. A lifetime ago. She almost crumbled. But she was still furious with him. With his betrayal. And she didn't care.
"There's nothing to talk about," Buffy said, walking into the bedroom and shutting the door.
William sat on the steps, tears streaming down his face as Buffy packed her things. Tears streaming down her face as she remembered how she'd betrayed her husband. She waited until she was sure he was gone, then walked out the door, with only a suitcase full of memories. She never looked back at their home.
When William awoke on the couch, he found the house in darkness. Just utter darkness. Just like his soul. He wanted to call out her name but he knew she was gone. She'd left. She'd just left. He could still taste the dry tears that had run down his cheeks.
Buffy, William thought.
Where was she? Where had she gone? She had no living family to speak off, and only a small circle of friends.
Probably ran back to Harris. Fucking whore.
The thought came unbidden. It enraged him. The thought that she could be with him, at this very moment. He stood there, shaking with rage. And the next thing William knew, he was in his car. He marched into the hotel he knew the son of a bitch owned in a fury. His eyes darted everywhere, looking for an elevator. He spotted it in the corner and made his way over, ignoring the frantic calls of 'Sir' and
'Excuse Me' from the front desk.
He practically smashed the button that was labelled 'Penthouse Suite'. A security guard came running up to stop him, but froze when William looked him dead in the eye. That moment was enough for the door to close. William flexed his fingers into a fist.
I'm gonna kill him, he thought. I'm going to bloody kill him
When the elevator reached the suite, William turned had the presence of mind to press the large red button that said 'Stop', leaving the elevator disabled. It was Spike who stepped off, stalking through the hallway. Silently. He moved from room to room, searching, searching searching.
He found Xander in his private office, behind his desk. Xander's legs were up and he was puffing on a large cigar.
He looked the very picture of a man at ease with himself and his place in the universe.
"William," Xander said, cheerfully. "I've been wondering when you'd show up."
Spike said nothing. He curled his hand into a fist, staring a hole through the billionaire.
"Cigar?" Xander offered, holding up an expensive case.
Spike took two steps towards Xander, cocking his fist.
Xander shook his head, as if he was personally disappointed in him.
"I know you want to hit me," Xander said, standing up. "But that won't change anything. Other than making you
feel better."
"Wouldn't you rather know where Buffy is?" Xander said as
Spike drew his fist back.
Her name broke through the haze of anger. His muscles coiled and flexed.
"Where?" he said, through gritted teeth.
"All in good time," Xander smiled, moving back to his seat. "But first there's something you need to know."
"No games Harris," Spike growled. "Tell me where she is."
"Nothing happened between Buffy and I that weekend," Xander said.
He saw the confusion on Spike's face. The bewilderment.
"What?" he whispered. He didn't understand. Nothing happened that weekend? So why didn't Buffy just tell him that? Why did she keep letting him go out of his mind? Nothing made sense any more.
"She just couldn't do it," Xander said, examining the cigar, then sighing. "Do you know how disappointed I was? The months I'd spent. Every little detail. And do you know what got in the way?"
Spike didn't respond. He couldn't respond.
"Love," Xander spat out. He shook his head in disbelief.
"She said she loved you."
"But..." Spike began. "The...the money."
"Aaah yes," Xander said, smiling now. "The money. I told her she could keep it. All she had to do was not tell you what didn't happen."
"Why?" Spike said.
"Because I knew it would drive you crazy," Xander said,
smiling at his own genius before closing his eyes and taking a deep drag. "The very thought of it. Your sweet, precious Buffy."
"With me," he said, opening his gleaming eyes.
"And I was right," Xander crowed. "You pushed her away. And right into my bed."
"You bastard," Spike swore. "I'll kill you."
Spike made to advance on Xander, but suddenly found himself unable to move. A large security guard had grabbed his arms and twisted them behind his back. Another was standing by his side, watching him closely. Spike thrashed helplessly, continuing to swear.
"I thought I could buy Buffy with money," Xander said, shaking his head. "But a woman like that. No. Only one
thing could deliver her to me."
"You, William," Xander said, coming close to Spike, enough so he could see the triumphant look in his eyes.
"Thank you. For an extremely..."
Xander took a moment to search for the correct word. He closed his eyes, as if to rack his brain.
"Unforgettable," Xander said. "An extremely 'unforgettable' evening."
Spike roared. His hands were useless, so he reared his head back, then aimed it at the bridge of Xander's nose. He enjoyed the resounding crack of it breaking and the cry of
pain that Xander let out as he fell back.
"Ooof," Spike winced, when the second security guard lay a heavy punch into his stomach. Then another. The second
shot took Spike's legs out from under him.
"Stop," Xander commanded. The large man, looked at Spike apologetically, as if to say, just doing my job man. No hard feelings.
"Get me a handkerchief," Xander ordered, trying to wipe away the blood and failing. A handkerchief was produced and Xander held it to his nose.
"Now hit him again," Xander said. The security guard shrugged, then walked over to Spike. With one more apologetic look, he swung his large fist into Spike's stomach, who cried out with pain.
"Stop," Xander said, after another two punches had been delivered and Spike's legs were limp
"Put him down," Xander ordered and Spike crumpled to the floor.
"I wish you could have seen her," Xander said. "How she looked when she came to my bed. Her face when she was in my arms."
Xander seemed lost in the memory. He sighed. Deeply.
Spike wanted to speak, but the pain had numbed his entire body. He only let out a pitiful groan.
"Oh wait," Xander said. Smiling wickedly. "You can."
Xander picked up a remote and flicked on the large television in the corner, sat behind the desk and put his feet up. Spike watched out of the corner of his eye. The video was of extremely high quality.
They were perched at the edge of the bed. Buffy and Xander. Naked. His wife was wrapped around the billionaire. One slim foot was dangling down his back. The other hooked around his waist. She was still wearing her four-inch fuck me pumps.
Xander was positioning himself between Buffy's legs.
Leisurely. Taking his time. When Xander thrust forward, Buffy threw her head back and moaned.
The camera cut the angle behind them. Showing Xander pumping away between Buffy's legs. Furiously. The camera shifted to a side-angle. Spike saw Buffy's breasts jiggle against Xander's chest as she clung to his shoulders. Her eyes were glazed. Xander held on to Buffy's slim waist for leverage.
The expression on Buffy's beautiful face was somewhere between agony and ecstacy. Her body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made her glow. Spike was intimately familiar with the look on Buffy's face. She was close. The words that slipped from her lips confirmed his worst suspicions.
"Oh," Buffy whimpered. "Oh god!"
And then she began using Xander as leverage. Began bouncing herself up and down on Xander's cock. The billionaire looked utterly content to allow himself to be used by her. No, he looked ecstatic.
"Yeah," Xander rasped. Chuckling salaciously. "Ride me. Fuck yeah."
Spike just lay there. Watching in anger and disbelief. Meanwhile, his wife was thrusting her hips against Xander. Desperately. Trying to wring as much pleasure as she could for herself.
Spike felt his cock harden. The reaction was visceral and entirely unwanted. He grit his teeth as he felt a surge of anger. He wanted to kill them both.
Spike knew this memory would haunt him till his dying day. Watching his wife have wild, athletic sex with the billionaire. But he couldn't look away.
"Fucking whore," Spike snarled. Despite himself, tears pricked at his eyes.
"Pay attention," Xander chided him. "This is where it gets really good."
Xander had that look in his eyes now. Spile remembered the look well. Xander had it the first time they'd met. He could have read Xander's thoughts: I'd love to take that gorgeous wife of yours to bed. Take my time with her. Make her scream my name and forget you even exist.
Now, Xander's eyes wee gleaming with triumph.
As if on cue, Buffy gave voice to Xander's innermost thoughts.
"Oh Xander!" Buffy moaned. "Oh god. Oh fuck! Fuck!"
And then Buffy was thrusting herself against Xander twice more before letting out an ear-piercing scream. Spike saw Xander pull away from Buffy in the video. Heard her let out a little whine of impatience.
"What can I say?" Xander chuckled. Smirking now. "She was gagging for it. And speaking of..."
Spike saw his wife drop to her knees in front of Xander. And then, with a desperate moan, she was drawing his cock into her mouth and giving him a blowjob.
Spike dropped his eyes to the carpet. The fight in him died. He felt himself shrivel up inside. Xander only found himself annoyed.
"Make him watch," Xander snarled.
The heavies lifted up William's face. And yet he would not open his eyes. Until Xander spoke again.
"I want you to watch this," Xander said. His voice was cold. "Or I leak this video to every known pornography website in the world."
William knew he was beaten. That as much as he hated Buffy, he'd never want to see her hurt that way. So he opened his eyes. Only for the camera angle to change.
William saw Xander reposition them, putting Buffy on her hands and knees.
"Like this," Xander muttered. He leant forward, pushing down on Buffy's head. Driving it into the mattress. "Gonna fuck you like this now."
William knew Xander's game. He wanted to toy with Buffy now. Use her. Get inside her head. Mess with her. And he
could do nothing.
Xander didn't even wait for Buffy's assent. He simply
reared back and thrust inside, drawing a whimper from Buffy. He saw Xander hold her in place, then absolutely drill Buffy into the matress.
A few short moments later, Xander had thrown his head back and let out a triumphant groan. William heard Buffy moan and saw Xander's body shake in the aftermath of orgasm. But the billionaire was in no hurry to pull out. He held them in place, letting himself spill his seed deep into Buffy's womb.
Xander turned the televion off.
"She cried," he confided. "After our first time. I'll never
forget it. Buffy. Naked. Crying. Calling me an asshole. A bastard. Trying to find her clothes."
Xander sighed, shaking his head. " She told me she'd betrayed her husband. Her marriage vows. That she wanted to go home."
Spike tried to speak. His tongue lolled helplessly and he let out a pitiable groan.
"Didn't tell me to stop when I pulled her back into bed though," Xander said, grinning. "No. She told me she wanted me to make her forget. Just for a little while. And then she'd go home."
Xander let out a little chuckle.
"She said," Xander began, searching his memory for right words. "No one had ever made her cum like that. Not like
that. She begged me to make her cum again. Just once more. And then she'd go."
"But she stayed," Xander's eyes glittered. "And we did every nasty thing we could come up with. Twice."
Xander looked down at Spike, seeing tears running down
his face.
"Oh come on Willy," Xander said. "A woman like that? That needy? There had to have been other men. Maybe you even knew about them."
Xander took a moment.
"But you know what?" Xander said slowly. "I bet I was her favourite. Because I was her revenge. Every orgasm I gave her paid you back. And I promise you, I gave her plenty of orgasms. She was utterly satisfied."
"Take him away," Xander waved his hand dismissively.
The two heavies picked Spike up like a sack of potatoes, slinging him over their shoulders.
"Don't worry Willie," Xander called after him. "Buffy will be the best cared for mistress in the world. That was the last thing Spike heard before he passed out. When he awoke, it was dark and he was in an alley behind the hotel. He struggled to his feet, then sought out the nearest bar.
