Title: Secrets Don't Make Friends (Pt 3-Booty Call)
Author: DivaDelilah
Description: Set in late Season 4, after Faith has body switched and is in prison.
Adam isn't in play, Spike is working with the Scoobies reluctantly.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the moldy stuff in my fridge. Joss, Mutant
Enemy, and Fox own all…I'm just daydreaming.
Distribution: Fanfiction.net, assorted lists, and anything I okay. (like you'd
want it!)
Feedback: Go ahead, rock my world.
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Handling it was exactly what Buffy was doing. The minute Spike had ventured
into the yard as far as the bushes, Buffy had reached out and dragged behind
the hedges, throwing him to the ground. Grinning, he stared up at her expectantly.
When she didn't answer, he said, "I thought I smelled you lurking about,
pet. Why don't you go inside and check in with your mates?"
"Because," Buffy said, straddling his waist, "I wanted to drag
you out here first." Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she bounced her
hips on his.
The blond vampire groaned loudly in pleasure, his cock hardening immediately
and his cold hands reached up under her shirt to pinch her nipples. "And
you knew we could do it back here in the bushes again, eh?" he said smirking.
A slow, feline smile spread across her face as he slid her skirt up over her
hips, his fingers grazing her inner thighs lightly. "MmmmmHmmmm. I thought
we could both use a little tension reliever. Besides, slaying always makes me
horny."
"You know, ducks, hearing about you killing my kind does nothing for my
libido," he said, ripping her tiny thong in an effort to get it off quickly.
"Oh, yeah. I forgot," she breathed heavily when his fingers slipped
inside her. Her hips wiggled involuntarily and they both moaned at the friction.
Growing restless against the ministrations of his long, pale digits, Buffy lifted
up quickly, her hands working his zipper, and impaled herself on his shaft when
it popped free.
Spike gritted his teeth as her soft, wet heat engulfed him, his hands sliding
up her thighs to her hips to pull her even closer. Her breathy gasps as she
rode him enflamed him and his vamp face morphed, his yellow eyes glowering at
her, fangs bared as he tried to stave off his orgasm. Suddenly, Buffy came,
her famous Slayer muscles squeezing him like a vise, and he let go with a primal
howl, biting his hand with his fangs as his cum spurted out inside of her. "Jesus,
Slayer," he said, when he'd freed his teeth from his hands. His yellow
eyes shined at her from under the ridges and he smiled toothily.
"Yes?" she said, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Her mind was
whirling with the implications of Spike biting his hand, and she had a thousand
questions to as him, but she ignored it, sensing instinctively that he didn't
want to talk about it. Instead, she crawled her hands up his body and kissed
his lips, which caused his face to immediately slide into his human mask. Her
brow furrowed for second at the calming effect she must have on his demon, but
she stayed away from the topic also.
"We'd better get up and inside before bloody Colombo in there sends out
the National Guard," Spike muttered. Buffy rolled off him, pocketing her
torn undergarments with a shy smile, and ran a hand through her hair self-consciously.
Spike's heart softened again, and he looked at her fondly, picking out a few
stray pieces of hedges from her golden tresses.
Her hand snaked up the capture his, and she blushed. "Thanks." She
brought his hand down to her side and kept holding it, casting her gaze down
as a wave of shyness overcame her. They started walking back towards the house,
and then ran flat into Xander and Anya on the step.
Xander and Buffy stared at each other, frozen for a second. Only Anya spoke,
"Why are you holding Spike's hand?"
Buffy looked down at the incriminating position. "Why? Uh, because I was
going to do this," she said, flipping him off his feet. "He made me
mad. He, uh, just needs beating up. Because he's bad."
Spike groaned from the ground and Anya turned to Xander. "See I told you
nothing was up with them. Now let's go out back before we get called inside…"
She tugged on his hand hard, dragging him out towards the very hedges Spike
and Buffy had come from.
"You okay? I didn't mean to have to do that," Buffy whispered.
"Yeah, I'm bloody peachy. Just had the wind knocked out of me," he
croaked, struggling to stand up. "Go on inside. I think I need a smoke."
Impulsively, Buffy leaned up and gave him a slow, lingering kiss and his arms
curled around her as he listened to her heartbeat, She pulled out of his embrace
reluctantly, and he grinned as she skipped inside. That's my girl, he
thought, smirking devilishly.
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