Chapter Twelve: Just because you feel good
"This is such a bad idea," Buffy moaned as Spike held her against him.
"Why?"
"You know why."
"What, because you might actually enjoy it? Oh no!" Spike gave her a look of mock horror. "Call the police! Buffy Summers is enjoying herself!"
She thumped his chest. "Can it."
"Come on, Summers. I'm not that objectionable, am I?"
"Yes. You're evil and I hate you," Buffy said, but she couldn't make it sound very sincere.
The band had slowed down a little and was playing a low-key, bluesy track. It was hard to keep dancing without pressing up very close to Spike. Devon sang out into the audience, his eyes on Dawn, but Buffy didn't notice.
'I don't wanna fall again
For a girl who doesn't feel the same for me...'
Spike's body was hot and close, the muscles in his chest and stomach hard, his body strong and solid. So familiar. It was so damn tempting to just nestle in his arms, the way she had the last time they'd danced, at the wedding...
'But it's happening, my friend:
When you walk into a room it hurts to breathe...'
Buffy sighed and let her head fall on Spike's shoulder.
He smiled slowly. His lifted her arm from around his neck and looked at her ring finger. "But you're not Summers any more, are you, pet?"
She put her hand back. "If anyone asks, I am."
'I'd give my world to you,
I'd give it all to you, if that's what you said you wanted...'
"So why do you still wear the ring? Both rings?"
She shrugged, averting her eyes. "Doesn't hurt to look unavailable."
'My heart is black and blue
And I ain't got a clue 'bout how to love you only as a friend...'
"Men beating at your door?"
She tossed her head. "Constantly."
Spike quirked his eyebrows at that.
"What, you don't believe me?"
He shook his head, smirking.
'Your kisses should be mine
I don't want anyone else but you...'
"You're a bastard, you know that?" Buffy said.
"Tell me something I don't know."
'And I want you to see me
Open your eyes, there's nobody but you...'
Spike's fingers tightened on her waist. Buffy frowned and tried to pull away. "Okay, you've had your-"
He reeled her back. "No, I haven't."
"Yes, you-"
Spike kissed her.
'And I just hope you feel it too
Because your beauty stops this stone cold heart from beating...'
"Wha'?" Buffy said, dazed.
Spike's hands were in her hair, pulling the clasp away, running his fingers through the long, newly golden strands. He kissed her again, and this time Buffy kissed him back.
'No, there's nothing I can do
No one said that love was gonna be easy...'
She was breathless, her heart, her whole body thrumming in rhythm with his. A tiny tiny little voice at the back of her mind told her she absolutely shouldn't be doing this, but Devon's voice drowned it out.
'Your kisses will be mine
I don't want anyone else but you
And I want you to see me
Open your eyes, there's nobody but you
Nobody but you.'
The song ended, but neither of them noticed. The band piled offstage, Devon rushed over to sweet-talk Dawn, Willow and Tara giggled in a corner together, no one noticed Buffy and Spike snogging madly in the middle of the dance floor.
"We should," Buffy tried desperately to take her mouth away from his, "we shouldn't-"
"Mmm," Spike replied. "Definitely."
"But - this isn't..."
"Sure."
"We should..."
"We should."
"Not here..."
Finally he pulled away from her long enough to take in a proper breath. "Yeah. Totally agree. Let's go."
He had his arm around her waist as he pulled her off the floor, through the club, and out into the cool night air. He pressed her up against the wall outside the club and kissed her again, more intensely than before, and Buffy was glad the wall was there because she knew she'd have fallen over otherwise.
"Car," she gasped, and Spike nodded, whisking her over to the DeSoto and leaning over to kiss her again even before she'd finished fastening her seatbelt. He started the engine and gunned out of the car park in seconds, swooshing through Sunnydale at far too high a speed for Buffy's liking.
Suddenly, without Spike touching her any more, she realised what she was doing.
"Stop!" she cried, and Spike glanced over in alarm.
"What? What's up?"
"Stop, I need to get out."
Thinking she was going to be sick or something - had there been vodka in that water? - Spike slung the car onto the hard shoulder and Buffy stumbled out, grabbing her bag, and started running.
"Shit," he yanked the handbrake on and got out and ran after her. "Buffy. Buffy!" He grabbed her arm and swung her round. "Where are you going?"
"I - this is-"
"What?"
"We can't," she said, looking up at him with frightened eyes.
"Why not?"
Buffy opened her mouth. Right now she couldn't remember.
"We just can't," she said lamely.
"Give me one reason why."
"I-" she honestly felt drunk again, dizzy and confused. She'd been Spiked, hah.
Spike took advantage of her open mouth and kissed her again, and passing motorists honked at them. Buffy felt herself weakening. Spike's body was so strong and so hot and so hard... really hard, in fact...
"I can't leave Dawn," she whispered weakly, the only excuse she could think of.
"Dawn's fine. The girls'll take her home."
"I should call..."
Spike dug his phone out of his pocket - which suddenly seemed very tight - and hit a few keys. He listened, then he pressed the phone to Buffy's face.
"...of Dawn Summers, I can't take your call, but leave a message and I'll get back to you. Beeep!"
Buffy hesitated. "Dawnie, it's me. I, er, I'm-" Spike started licking her other ear and her voice went up a few octaves, "I'm with Spike, I, uh, I'll be home in the morning," she shoved the phone away and grabbed him and kissed him hard. It was impossible. She just couldn't stop.
Somehow, they managed to get back in the car, and this time when he pulled back into traffic, Spike kept one hand on Buffy's thigh. She could feel the heat of his hand through the leather of her jeans. God, she was so hot in them. Really, she should take them off.
Spike seemed to be having the same idea, because his hand was hovering near her fly, and quite suddenly, the top button was undone.
And then the zip, too.
And then Buffy was inching them down.
"Oh Christ," Spike groaned when he realised she was taking them off. "Are you trying to make me crash?"
"No," Buffy reached over to his fly, "this is trying to make you-"
He shoved her hand away, the car swerving. "Stop that!"
Buffy giggled, wriggling in her seat, incredibly glad that her random sweep of her underwear drawer had yielded a decent pair of knickers for once. Spike's hand came back, now to her bare thigh, and his fingers ran up the soft skin on the inside of her leg.
She swallowed.
Surely it couldn't be far now? His fingers were playing patterns on her leg. Buffy tried to remember how to breathe. This was insane.
"Maybe you'd," she panted, "better stop..."
"Can't handle it?"
"Sure I can-" Buffy's voice suddenly rose to a squeak as his finger stroked the gusset of her knickers. "Dear God, don't do that!"
Smirking, Spike moved his fingers to the relative safety of her thigh again, and Buffy clung to the car door, urgently sucking in lungfuls of nicotine scented oxygen.
When Spike finally swung the car into a bay in the underground car park, Buffy leapt on him, her fingers scrabbling to unfasten his jeans, her mouth locked to his. She would have fucked him right there and then, but the flash of a torchbeam through the window reminded them both that there were people patrolling the car park.
"Upstairs," Spike said. "Lift-" he pointed.
"Pants," Buffy reached for them, but Spike grinned and grabbed his duster from the back seat.
"Put this on," he said, and licked her neck.
He opened the door and Buffy tumbled out, wrapping the duster about herself. It felt incredibly erotic to know that all she was wearing underneath was a tiny bra top and her underwear. Evidently Spike thought so too, judging by the rather huge bulge in his jeans. He pulled his shirt over it and hustled her towards the lift, but someone else joined them, a man in a suit who looked disgusted at their close contact. But Buffy couldn't stop touching Spike, and the feeling seemed to be mutual.
Their companion got off at the first floor lobby, and Buffy nearly screamed when half a dozen people got on, all wanting to go to different floors. Spike pulled her back against his chest, his erection pulsing against her through the leather of his coat.
When the last person finally exited, he spun her round and pinned her against the wall of the lift.
"Thought they'd never get off!" Buffy panted.
"Thought we never would," Spike bit her lip, and she moaned loudly. Every cell in her body was screaming with lust. She had to have him, or she'd burst into flames. The lift pinged at Spike's floor - the penthouse again - and they stumbled out into the small lobby.
"Key," Buffy gasped.
"Let's do it here."
"No!" She pushed his hands out from under the duster. "Inside. Quick."
She found the key in one of his pockets and had a devil of a time trying to get it in the lock. Buffy had never been able to work those stupid key cards anyway, and with Spike pressing very hard up against her back, licking her ear and telling her all the filthy things he was going to do to her, she started to think she'd never get it done. Maybe Spike's idea of doing it out in the hallway would be-
"Ha!" The door finally swung open, Spike yanked her inside, kicked the door shut and shoved her up against it. He was inside her in seconds and both of them let out a yell of relief.
"Oh God, Buffy," he started moving inside her, and Buffy put her hands on his shoulders and lifted her legs up around his waist. "Christ..."
"God, that feels good," she squeezed him, and he moaned. "Come on, harder. Fuck me harder, Spike, deeper - oh, God!"
Spike came first, unable to hold on for more than a few minutes, and they slid down to the floor together. Buffy pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and slipped her own fingers down to her clitoris, desperate to climax.
Incredibly turned on by this flushed, tousled goddess pleasuring herself on top of him, Spike felt himself get hard again, grabbing her hips and rocking her on him, pulling her down to him, shoving her clothes out of the way and sucking hard on one of her nipples.
Buffy's sharp gasps turned to shrieks, then to screams, and then she came with a yell, collapsing on him, trembling and shaky, hardly able to breathe.
For a few seconds they lay together, clinging and clutching, breathing hard, and then Spike rolled Buffy onto her back and kissed her, long and deep. She moaned contentedly, and when he started moving inside her again, she rocked her hips in time.
"Again?"
"And again," Spike thrust into her, "and again... and again..."
"Don't stop," Buffy whispered.
"Never."
And he didn't. They played with that position for a while, never losing intimate contact, Buffy pushing Spike over on his back again, rolling her hips and watching his face sharpen with pleasure, leaning back and crying out as the friction inside of her built almost unbearably. Spike slipped his fingers down to the place they were joined, and watched her come again. Then he pushed her down on her back, still inside her, and lifted her legs up over his shoulders. Buffy moaned helplessly.
Hell of a view, Spike thought, and it wasn't long before he came again, triggering a mini orgasm in Buffy.
"We should probably," he sat up, "try and aim for the bed? I'm getting carpet burns here."
Buffy sat up too. "You? You're still fully dressed."
"You still have your underwear on." He fiddled with her exposed nipple. "Well, sort of. Have I told you lately how much I love these?" he stroked her enlarged breasts.
"No, but you can show me," Buffy swung herself off him and wriggled her underwear into a more comfortable position. She was halfway up the stairs when she realised Spike wasn't following. He was lying back on the floor, looking smug, one hand behind his head. His shirt half open, showing his delectable abdomen.
"Uh, you sort of have to come with me for this bit."
"Do me a favour and just walk to the top of those stairs," Spike said.
Buffy frowned.
"You wiggle your arse when you go up stairs," he explained, grinning. "And right now there's not a lot covering it."
Buffy rolled her eyes, but she did it anyway, and when she got to the top, turned around just in time to see Spike rushing after her. She shrieked and ran for the outside balcony, and he caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him.
"Running away?" he growled in her ear.
"Gonna stop me?"
"Oh yeah," he took her earlobe between his teeth and bit on it, "definitely."
Buffy tried to turn in his arms but he stopped her, pressed her forward onto the balcony. Against the railing.
"Woah," Buffy looked down. "This is-" she stopped as she felt something behind her, "-kinky..."
"Not the first time we've done it somewhere public, love," Spike's teeth grazed her neck and she closed her eyes.
"The first time," she gasped sharply as he entered her, "there've been people around."
"We're on the top floor. No one's gonna look up."
"They could hear..."
She felt him laugh softly, all the way through her. "I sincerely hope they do."
When she knew she was in love with him, Buffy had liked to have sex face to face the most. She loved to look at Spike's beautiful face, his heavenly body, see his expression when he came. But now... Now she'd spent eight months telling herself he was just a blip and she'd never loved him anyway, now she was free to admit...
She loved it from behind.
Buffy almost found herself wishing that someone would hear them. Look up and see them. Wish to be one of them. Envious. Wanting it.
"They want to be me," Spike's voice was almost inaudible behind her. "Want to be fucking you."
She didn't know what was more disturbing: that he'd said it, or that she'd been thinking it.
"Who?"
"The people down there. They want to be inside you. Feel you all tight... squeezing... hard and - thrusting-" his narrative faltered and his hand clutched at her hip. "Fucking you," he whispered, pinching on her clitoris, and Buffy cried out. "That's it. Louder. Come on. Tighter."
"Spike..."
"Can you feel it?"
"Don't stop."
"Hard, slick..."
"You're so hard," Buffy gasped.
"Tight..."
"Harder-"
"Such a tight, wet little-"
"Fuck me!"
Spike obliged, driving into her so hard it almost hurt. Buffy cried out loudly, and she knew everyone else out on their balconies, enjoying the mild Californian darkness, could hear her. Mindlessly, she moaned and screamed - harder, fuck me, deeper, so good, Spike-! - and when she came, she was sure it could be heard in LA.
Spike came too, and slipped out of her, holding her around the waist so she wouldn't fold in two and fall over the balcony.
Buffy shivered.
"Cold, pet?" He kissed the back of her neck.
Not cold, Buffy realised. Uneasy. What the hell was she doing?
But before she could really think about it, Spike had led her back inside and made her mindless again. And again. And again.
Buffy woke in the early hours of the morning, breasts full and heavy. William was on solids now, but he still breastfed occasionally, and her body knew this.
God, William.
She looked down at the man sleeping beside her, unutterably beautiful in the moonlight, lying there with his arm slung possessively over her. She shouldn't have done this. Shouldn't have done it at all.
As quietly as she could, Buffy slipped out of bed and gathered her clothes. But of course her leather pants were still in the DeSoto, and there was no way she was hunting for the keys to go and find them... Besides which, she still had to get down there with nothing to wear...
The memory of the trip in the lift, wearing just his duster, some heels and little more than her underwear, made Buffy feel ill. She'd acted like a hooker.
Pressing her hands to her face, she made herself breathe. She'd go, and then next time she saw Spike, she'd just explain that sure, he could see Will, but it was best if they didn't see each other.
It was bloody annoying, though, that she had to borrow his jeans to go home in.
The taxi dropped her off at the end of the street and Buffy ran the rest of the way. She didn't want to wake Dawn. But when she got in and made to creep past her sister's bedroom, she found it empty. Willow and Tara's was, too.
Panicking, she ran around calling her sister's name. Checking the answerphone. Looking for a note. There was nothing. Buffy's heartbeat raced. God, she'd gone missing before, Drusilla had kidnapped her and tortured her, and it was all because Buffy was too busy fucking Spike to notice-
She hauled out her cell phone and was just about to look up his number and beg him for help when she realised there was a message flashing on it. It took two tries for her terrified fingers to reach voicemail, but when she did, Dawn's voice filled her ear.
"Buffy? Listen, I looked for you in the Bronze but I can't find you... Uh, I'm going to this club Devon knows. Don't worry, I'll behave - Willow and Tara are here too. We might be late back. I guess if I'm not back in the morning I'll be at, uh, Oz's..."
Buffy closed her eyes. Out on the razz with bandmembers who were at least five years older than her - and in a band! They could be drinking, and smoking, and God, there could be drugs...
Buffy started calling her sister's number and leaving terrified voicemails.
Dawn woke to hear William crying, and buried her head in the pillow. She could have stayed with Devon. She could have taken Oz up on his offer of a lift home. But no. Instead, she'd slapped Devon's face so hard she'd no doubt there'd be a bruise, and stormed out. So maybe she'd thought about going all the way with him. And then she'd remembered that she was seventeen and barely knew him and then he'd said - well, she wanted to forget the disgusting things he'd said.
Xander's apartment wasn't far away, so she'd gone there, leaving a message on Willow's mobile that she wasn't going home with them.
Willow and Tara woke on the sofa in the apartment Oz and Devon shared. Devon had lit up a spliff, and while neither of the girls were interested - tried it at college, not too impressed - his second hand smoke had definitely made them woozy.
"Where's Dawn?" Tara asked, and Willow blinked sleepily.
"She was with Devon..."
They looked at each other. "Oh, no, do you think-?"
"Do you want to go and check?"
"Do you?"
Eventually, they decided to go together, and cautiously pushed open one of the bedroom doors. Oz lay asleep with his rather abrasive girlfriend, Verucca. No Dawn.
"At least it's not a threesome," Willow whispered, making Tara giggle.
"Door number two?"
Willow nodded, and they opened it.
Devon, snoring loudly. There was a big bruise on his face, but no Dawn.
"This is..." Willow looked confused. "Is this good?"
"Well, she's not with Devon..."
"But she's not here..."
"Huh."
Dawn called just as they were starting to get worried, and the sound woke up Devon, who moaned loudly that Dawn was a menace, and what the hell had she done to his beautiful face?
Trying not to laugh, Willow and Tara had made a tactful exit and driven to Xander's to pick Dawn up.
"We wondered where you'd gone..."
"Oh," Dawn tried to look casual, "I just missed Will is all... How come you guys fell asleep?"
"Oh," Willow couldn't look at her girlfriend, "we were just really tired... Shall we go home now? Buffy's probably worried sick."
They walked in to find Buffy calmly eating breakfast in the kitchen.
"Nice of you to all call and tell me where you were," she said.
"You don't look too distraught," Dawn said, getting into stroppy teenager mode.
"No, well, I heard your garbled message at about four this morning, and called Xander, and he filled me in."
"Where did you go last night?" Willow asked curiously, and Buffy's eyes were suddenly fixed on her cereal bowl.
"Uh, I just, I needed some air, so I left for a walk. And then I came home. Straight home. Didn't any of you get my message?" she asked cautiously, trying to remember who she'd called before deep hot lust had taken over.
Willow and Tara shook their heads, wondering if the dope smoke had messed up their phones.
"I, uh, ran out of battery," Dawn admitted.
"Well, I just came straight back here," Buffy said brightly. "Didn't go anywhere else. So did you guys have a good night?"
They all suddenly found other places to look.
"Not bad."
"Okay."
"Kinda dull, actually."
And all of them were so relieved that no one else thought they were lying, that they forgot to notice how guilty they all sounded.
A.N. The song above is 'Your Kisses' by Jokers Wild (jokerswildmusic.com). I hope they don't mind me borrowing it... Well, they better not, since I kinda live with one of them!