Chapter Seven

"Spike, I want you."

Her beautiful words echoed in his mind. He knew it was wrong. The whole situation was wrong. He gazed down at her. She was wearing a skin tight strapless black dress that left very little to the imagination. He wanted so badly to put his fingers through her silky golden tresses. Her eyes glimmered with desire and hatred. For him. He knew it was probably just the alcohol making her want him so much, but he didn't care. He wasn't letting her go back to the dance floor tonight. He would likely have to kill any other man who so much as looked at her. She slid his coat off his shoulders feeling his sculpted chest though his shirt. He gasped as her hands glided over his body. His lips moved away from hers and down to her neck. They were both breathing heavily now. How easy it would be for him to take her somewhere. He wanted her to be his and she was more than willing to comply at the moment. But she wasn't his, was she? No. She still belonged to Angel.

He pushed her away.

"No." he said quickly.

"What?"

"It's not what you want."

"How dare you tell me what I want?"

"Do you really want to give up what you have with Angel? Think about it, Buffy."

"I can't believe you. You came on to me."

"It was a mistake."

She was glaring at him with the most intensity and loathing. He could see the angry tears forming in her eyes. He wanted so badly to reach out and hold her. But she moved away.

"Stay the hell away from me."

"Buffy, you're drunk."

"That doesn't give you the right to touch me."

She turned to walk away, but stumbled. Spike was fast and caught her before she could hit the ground. Her gaze met his. It wasn't to long ago she had been in a similar position in his arms. The memory flashed through her mind. Meeting him for the first time. Those eyes. Intensely blue. They had seemed to be looking right through her. Much like they were doing now. Her heart was pounding so hard. Was his pounding to? She couldn't be sure, but the look on his face told her he was definitely feeling something other than hatred.

She pulled away. But he got a hold of her again. She was no match for him in her condition.

"Let me go."

It was supposed to be a command, but sounded more like a desperate plea.

"No. I'm taking you home. You're not staying here, so I can watch every drooling pig in this joint gawk at you. It's disgusting."

"Jealous? She smirked seductively. I mean, don't you wish I was dancing with you out there instead, Spike? Hmmm? Don't you wish that for just one night you could-"

"That's enough!"

She laughed bitterly.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Spike. Who knows? I might still want to go out there and have some fun, dance with some guys, maybe go home with one of them."

She was getting back at him now and he knew it. Only one thing to do now, he thought angrily. Before she knew what was happening she was being lifted off her feet and thrown over his shoulders.

"Spike! What are you doing? Put me down dammit! Put me down!"

He chuckled.

"Sorry love, but I'm taking you out of here whether you like it or not.

She wasn't able to fight him. He was strong. She was drunk. The odds weren't exactly in her favor. In no time, he had gotten her to her apartment, held her hair back as she threw up into the toilet, cleaned her face, and finally helped her into bed.

Normally, he wouldn't have put up such an effort for anyone and he couldn't explain why he was doing it now. It certainly wasn't because she was marrying his brother. No. It didn't have anything to do with saving his brother's relationship with her. He liked her. It was more than just attraction. Everything about her made him want to strangle her and kiss her at the same time. She was his opposite and yet his match. He'd never felt this way about any woman and it was tearing him to pieces inside. She wasn't his. He knew it. Yet, he couldn't escape the feeling that she should be with him. Not Angel. Not those morons from the club. Him.

He didn't leave her room right away. He sat there for a while just watching her sleep. She looked amazing and he couldn't help but pity her because of how terribly hung over she would be the next morning.

Before leaving that night, he placed a couple aspirin on her nightstand along with some water and brushed her hair away from her face.

"Goodnight, Buffy."