Just One Little Kiss
:: CHAPTER TWO ::
Buffy took a deep breath and stepped out onto the marble floor of the presidential suite. In her short pale-blue dress and catwalk heels, she emanated everything that was glamour and cool…inside, however, it was a different story. Anger and frustration swam beneath her calm exterior as she turned a corner and saw Spike talking with one of the cameramen by a small water feature the room had. She took another deep breath before walking towards him.
"Mr Johnson." She acknowledged, desperate to leave the situation.
"Miss Summers." Much as he would have liked, he could not stop his eyes from drifting down her body; she was a model, after all. He followed her smooth, creamy skin down to just below her neckline where the pale dress covered her breasts. Realising what he was doing, he brought his gaze to meet her cold eyes, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets to still the natural movement her presence had evoked. He still hated her, though.
She tried not to show it, but the truth was that his inscrutable intimacy had caused her body to react as any woman's would have when a handsome man perused them. She cleared her throat and folded her hands across her chest. The action was almost indistinguishable, but for the smile that appeared across Marie's face. Spike looked at her and smiled.
"William Johnson," he said, extending his arm to meet hers, "call me Spike, everyone does." A small glint appeared in Marie's eyes as she glanced to see her friend's reaction.
"Just call me Marie." She said smiling back. She switched hands to Pete who had just joined the conversation. "Marie." She added.
"Pete." He replied, summing up her body in a quick glance.
"BED SCENE, COMING UP!" A stagehand cut across them.
"You two better get off to bed, then." Pete said, grinning at Marie. "I'll take care of Marie." The two of them disappeared, leaving Buffy and Spike staring at each other.
"Miss Summers, this way please, into makeup. Mr Johnson, Petra Winters came in especially to do your hair and costume." The young girl smirked at him. "She feels she owed it to you after helping her through that rocky period with her ex." Spike smiled as he reminded himself. "You can go and get naked over there, sir!" The girl beamed, before leading Buffy away.
She was sat in front of a large mirror wearing a stylish negligee with two women fussing over her hair and makeup when Spike came into view from behind her. In the mirror, he looked completely naked. The suit he had been wearing before had modestly covered his firm body, but now his muscles were out for all to see. Buffy tensed in her chair as he looked at her. She felt her breath quicken as he bent down to her ear, watching her in the mirror.
"It's coming up." He said, softly, as a few of the female staff stopped to swoon over his appearance. She shot a nervous glance to where his groin would have been had she been able to see in the mirror, another to the cactus that stood erect upon the table. "The bed scene," he clarified, his brow furrowing at her nervousness. "Are you ready?"
She cleared her throat and stood up, turning to face him. He forced himself to hold her gaze and not to stare at the womanly curvature of her body against the thin silk. "Yes." She answered, plainly, raising her eyebrows as if nothing had shocked her.
"Spikey!" Called a young voice from the other end of the room. He turned to face where the noise had come from. Buffy used this time to glance down, but found herself not so much relieved as disappointed as she saw the boxer shorts around his hips.
"Leah!" He beamed as the little girl ran towards him. He picked her up and kissed her, before resting her on his hip. "Where's mummy?" He asked in his heavy British accent, looking round the room.
Buffy's eyes followed as the little girl pointed to an attractive young woman who leant against a drinks machine flirting with a chiselled man. "Over there, with daddy!" She didn't know why, but it relieved her to know that he was not the father.
"Excuse me," Spike said to Buffy, before carrying the girl over to them. He stood there for sometime talking before returning to where she stood, motionless, waiting. "Let's get into bed then!" He said, with a smile, rubbing his hands together. "Patrick!" He called. A large man with a beard and a beret emerged from a bathroom.
"Right!" He said, with an Australian accent. "Let's get started."
After some positioning, he finally settled on a starting position for the both of them. The advert was to start with the two asleep in bed, Spike behind Buffy, holding her close. They would wake up just as Leah would run in and jump on the bed. The idea for this scene was to give the illusion of a nice, happy family. In practice, all did not go well…
Spike's naked torso pressed against Buffy's skin. She couldn't help shivering slightly at the contact. He slid his free arm under hers, across her slender waist, securing her against him. His scent was intoxicating; she could barely breathe. He did little to ease the matter as he warm breath caressed her neck. She tried to calm her body's reaction; sure that he could feel every shiver, see the impact his proximity was already having across her chest. She could feel his smile boring into the back of her head as she was made to hold his other strong arm tight across her chest and rest her head upon it. She felt her body melting as his leg crossed over hers at the knee, fixing her ultimately against him. She prayed he could not feel her reaction.
Spike prayed she could not feel the tension rising within him. He tried to smile for the audience, but inside it was taking every effort in his body not to give into the urges that pulsed through him. Her body seemed to mould so comfortably against his. At first able to control himself, the crossing of their legs brought other matters into consideration.
He tried to pull himself as far away from her as possible, desperate that she would not feel him aching for her touch. She felt his withdrawal; sure that he was not feeling the same as her, that she had made no impact upon him.
"Ok, ready and…ACTION!" Patrick exploded, jolting them both back to reality. Immediately they closed their eyes, pretending to be asleep. Eons seemed to pass, before "Cut, cut, cut!" Patrick whined. "Where is Leah!"
The little girl bounded onto the set in a Spiderman costume she'd previously convinced him was a good idea to wear, and tugged at his trousers. "Rargh!" She said, in what came out as the cutest voice imaginable, instead of a scary monster. His face softened immediately; she seemed to have that effect on most people.
"Alright! FROM THE TOP, PEOPLE! And, ACTION!" He bellowed, having moved back into position. His blood cooled by the young child's presence, he pressed himself closer to Buffy, enjoying the feel of her whilst she was still there.
There was a long wait.
"Leah? LEAH!" Bellowed Patrick, again. The young Spiderman emerged from underneath a table with a pink iced-bun; most of the icing across her face. "Oh, for the love of –, Michelle, please just clean up your child, and try to impress upon her the severity of the situation." He sighed. "Everyone, you've got a five minute break. You two, stay there!" He added, before turning on his heel, leaving.
Spike pushed himself up, using his elbow, before turning to look at who remained. The room seemed derelict. It was times like those that he cursed his idea to put four rooms in each suite!
He lay back down, the heat in him rising again, the blood pumping more ferociously than before.
"They've all gone." He didn't know why, but he felt the need to whisper it.
Buffy turned a little to look up at him, their faces almost touching. "Should we just wait here." Her voice sounded suddenly husky.
His eyes met hers; both filled with desire…no longer annoyance or indifference. "That's what Patrick said."
A blush rose in her cheeks, she could feel her heart beating wildly, though could not explain it. This was William Johnson, she told herself, the troublemaker. The one who paid some kid to blow up the toilets just so he could miss a pop quiz. The one who thought she was a bossy know-it-all. The one in the hot leather jacket. The word mysterious hung in her head; she couldn't get it out. Her mind was swimming. She couldn't think straight; not with his lips hovering like that just above hers. They were fascinating to her; it was against everything she'd ever believed in, but she wanted to taste them.
Spike looked down. She was twisted slightly in his arms to look back at him; her body so deliciously curved. His eyes fell upon the shaky rise and fall of her chest, and upon the hard nipples that protruded through the negligee. He wanted to touch her, feel her react to the heat of him, the weight of him. Forcing his eyes higher, he stopped at her lips. They were slightly parted, as if waiting for him to take them.
His body tautened as he leaned in closer, pressing his body down harder against hers. He lay his hands firmly on either side of her. His lips brushed over hers, his tongue forcing them to open wider. His breath gently caressed the soft, pink flesh until she groaned a little, pushing herself up towards him.
Sure of her hunger for him, he increased the pressure of his mouth, forcing her back onto the satin pillows. He hadn't intended for more, but the contact was so heavy that he lingered, increasing the pressure. Her lips parted beneath him, and his tongue delved inside as he tasted her hot, powerful, intoxicating sweetness.
He pressed himself more roughly against her. She made no protest, reaching her fingers into his hair as he straddled her properly. She pushed her body up towards him, desperate to feel the contact. Her breasts moved against his chest as she touched her tongue to his. Mindlessly, he plunged deeper, as a hand slid down to her waist; impatient, wanting. Blood sang in his ears, blocking all else out. All the time, his thighs trembled with aching want such as he had never known, as he bit back a groan.
Buffy shook at the force of him. She revelled in the feel of his firm body hard against her. His knee pushed between her thighs, making her gasp in a frantic, hot delight, as his hardness pressed against her. He grunted at the feel of her, warm and welcoming. She shuddered, forcefully, as the palm of his hand closed around her breast, caressing it, his thumb stroking her nipple into a hard peak. She gasped again as a bright, hot sensation leapt through her.
Suddenly, he froze. Dizzied by sensation, it took her some time to realise why.
"I SAID: EVERYONE, BACK TO WORK!" Shouted Patrick from another room.
Buffy's mist filled eyes swung open to meet Spike's staring back down. He swore, rolled off her and rubbed his hands across his face quickly, before sitting back up. She blinked a few times before joining him. Her kiss-swollen mouth still fresh with the taste of him.
::
Chapter Three
Fiction:
Comments:
E-mail address: