Take a Chance by Witchiepoo

Chapter 29

Love. Love will keep us together.

Who knew Captain and Tenille could be so fucking sexy? And right? Love would keep them together, Buffy mused. And Heller and Wes.

“Beautiful ceremony. Wouldn’t you agree?” Her breath hitched on the last word. She shook her head at Spike, pushing his questing fingers away from her clit.

“I’m asking your opinion and you’re twiddling my twat.” Buffy huffed, either from the jolt she’d gotten on her last surge or from true disapproval, Spike wasn’t sure.

In response to her pout, Spike chuckled and tweaked her right nipple. “Luv, your twat was made to be twiddled, and besides, weddings aren’t for guys. They are all about the gal. Heller was beautiful and Wes was happy. That’s all I noticed.”

He noticed other things too, like the tears in Heller’s eyes as Wes slid the emerald and diamond ring onto her left hand, the way Wes’ chest puffed with pride when the justice introduced Lee as his wife. Oh, yeah, he’d observed a lot.

“You noticed more than that, Mr. Perceptive.” Buffy grinned, leaning forward till their foreheads touched. “You did a good job tonight. Always knew you were the best man.” Her tongue darted out, sliding across his lips, slowly tasting him. Butterscotch ice cream. Rich, creamy, and oh, so sinful. Murder on her hips, but worth every drop.

Spike snickered as he opened his mouth to steal her tongue. His fingers traced a path from her hips to the underside of her breasts, across her collarbone to bury in her hair. Buffy whimpered and squirmed as she the lack of air became a problem. In direct reaction to it, she squeezed his cock tightly, pushing a grunt from Spike in response. They broke apart with a gasp, eyes locked on the other as Buffy bore down, grinding her hips onto Spike’s pelvis. Her back arched as she strove to pull more and more of him inside of her. Her head rolled back, her hair flowing down her back like a cape.

“Fuck, Buffy.”

“I. Am. I am. I am.” She chanted, her voice squeaking with each undulation until she pressed the palms of her hands onto his biceps, her fingers gripping into his flesh. It was painful, but a good, good pain.

“I thought you were going to cut your nails. Damn things are bound to leave marks.” Spike joked, thrusting hard into Buffy’s fluttering muscles. He loved the feel of her cunt right after she came. Her snatch felt, and she laughed the first time he told her, like warm pudding. Apple pie had nothing on his baby.

Buffy lifted her head, wiggling her brows mischievously. “Sorry. I won’t use my hands.” She giggled in reply. Spike had a moment’s pause as he threw back his head, laughing, before he realized Buffy was no longer hugging his cock with her delectable muscles. Her hand, tiny and strong gripped him, stroking his length leisurely. His eyebrow arched as she pulled her leg over his thigh, allowing her to kneel before the altar that was his body.

“Have I told you lately that you are one fine and sexy man?” She queried, the hazel of her eyes turning a darker, deeper green.

“Not in so many words, luv.”

Buffy shook her head in mock reproach. “I’m a bad girlfriend.” She admitted, leaning forward, her cotton candy-colored tongue darting out to lap at Spike’s nipple. His fingers threaded in her mane of honey-blonde hair, quietly encouraging her efforts on his behalf.

No woman should be so blessed as to have Spike naked, willing, and oh, so able to achieve multiple orgasms in a single night. But Buffy was, and she was a selfish bitch. He wasn’t for sharing.

Buffy rose on her knees, slurping as she licked her way from one wet nipple to the other, puckering in anticipation of her touch. She decided this nipple deserved a different fate from its breathen. She flattened her tongue, seesawing back and forth over the bud. She chuckled as she felt Spike’s hips jerk in response to her ministrations. She looked up, all mischievous and lustful. “I guess you like that huh?”

Not waiting for a response, she blew on the straining bud before inching down to his navel. Ick thought of the day popped into her mind. Riley had sand in his bellybutton one time. But looking at Spike’s little button blew off remembrances of Riley to the nether region. Thank the lord. Buffy thought. She glanced at her hand, its digits becoming slick with pearly liquid. She’d never been bold enough to suck her fingers after jerking Spike off, but she wanted to, if only for the reaction it would garner from him. But the itchy tingle in her crotch told her she didn’t have much longer till she got off, and she was bound and determine to suck him to a glorious orgasm before she did.

She lifted her head, teasing Spike’s stomach with her tresses. She loved the way his stomach jerked and tensed as the strands passed over the sinew beneath them.

Spike ached to push her head down on his crotch, but he knew that was the quickest way to rosy palm. Buffy liked to do things in her own time, even if it threatened his sanity. She wouldn’t be rushed. She’d get to his cock when she was good and ready, and she would make sure he was gagging for the warmth of her mouth when she did.

“Hello, Mr. Spikey.” Buffy whispered seductively as she lowered her lips to kiss the throbbing head. Somewhere in her lust addled mind, she heard Spike hiss in pain or pleasure, she wasn’t sure. And she really didn’t care. She’d take care of him.

“That’s it, baby. Take me home. God… you magnificent bitch.” Spike groaned as his dick was enveloped in warmth. It felt like molten lava to his sensitive skin, but he’d take a daily dip in it, and come to think of it, he did.

Her right hand caressed his length, her strokes shorter, but harder. Joining with the suction of her lips to jerk and pull his cock deeper into the cavern of her throat. Spike pressed his hips into the bed, resisting the urge to heave up with his hips, jamming his cock deeper into the paradise that was her mouth. Buffy wasn’t making it easy on a bloke, though. She was humming and the vibrations along his cock were like music to a dancer. He wanted to move. He wanted to sing.

“Bloody hell!” He roared, his hips coming off the bed as he came in a long, glorious gush. Buffy’s finger slid up and down the smooth skin at the base of his cock, milking every last drop of cum from him till he sagged, boneless, exhausted, relieved, sated, and a whole bunch of other adjectives in the thesaurus, to the bed.

Buffy dabbed her lips delicately on the sheets as she covered them. The chill of the air conditioning raising goosebumps on their exposed flesh.

At that moment, the fountain at the Mirage spouted its technicolor show, giving them the perfect finale to their evening.

“I couldn’t have described how I was feeling any better.” Spike murmured sleepily. Buffy sat up on her elbows enjoying the show.

“So you’re saying I’m a Las Vegas water show?”

“I’m saying I came like a geyser and saw stars. Now, close that beautiful mouth and let me recover. The next light show is in a hour.”

Buffy shrieked in laughter as Spike rolled over, pinning her to the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Going to the chapel and they’re going to get married.” The miniature bride and groom danced along the bedspread, jumping on and over Lindsey’s bare leg. “Gawd… I feel like dancing.” Cordy exclaimed.

“But instead of you dancing”, Lindsey smirked, stroking his finger across Cordelia’s collarbone, “you’ve got the cake topper doing it for you.”

Cordelia leaned in, kissed Lindsey hard on the lips, before rocking back on her heels. “You couldn’t handle my naked dance. And besides, Buffy got the bouquet, I had to get something to remind me of this momentous occasion.” She pouted.

Lindsey scooted forward, wrapping his arms around Cordy. He nuzzled his lips against Cordy’s neck. “Who knew Buffy could leap that high. She’s only five foot two.”

“Yeah, I know. I think Spike might have given her a boost when he slapped her ass, but I can’t be sure.’ Cordy grumbled.

“Well, Spike’s hands and Buffy’s ass are intimately acquainted.” As if to demonstrate, Cordy felt Lindsey’s hand slide down her back to clutch her own butt.

“Well…umm…you make a good point, sweetie.” Cordy’s eyes flitted shut, her head rolling back as every nerve ending below the Mason-Dixon line began to hum with excitement. “Can I say, before I can’t, that Heller never looked more beautiful, and Wes done good.”

“What was that?” Lindsey replied, his head shooting up, knocking gently against Cordy’s chin.

“Wes…Heller…Wedded bliss.” Cordy grabbed tuffs of Lindsey’s hair, dragging his mouth to hers in a blistering kiss that left little to the imagination.

“Wes…Lucky… Pulled off a good one. Didn’t have a clue.” He said, recovering his breath and Cordy’s hand. “Can we save on the rah rah awws until after this?” He said, motioning to the bed.

“Oh, I do like the way your mind… and the rest of you work, Mr. MacDonald.” Cordy giggled, pressing Lindsey back onto the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee checked her reflection in the mirror again. Did she look different? Did she feel different? No, to the first question. Yes, to the second. There were no words to describe this incredible feeling of belonging that she had. She was complete, done..whatever, but now her life was joined irrevocably with his, and that was what had her flummoxed. Lee stared at her left hand, still unable to believe the whirlwind of the last 24 hours. Yesterday morning, she was a single, satisfied, well-loved woman and went to bed a married, satisfied, extremely well-loved woman. It was mind-boggling and incredible and she couldn’t believe she’d been blessed with the richness of Wes’ love.

“I’m Mrs. Wesley Wyndham-Price.” She didn’t say it too loud for fear she’d awaken from the best dream of her life. “Mrs. Wesley Wyndham-Price, that’s me.” Heller giggled a little hysterically, pressing her fingers to her lips to shush herself.

A quick peek out the bathroom door found her husband…oh, she was going to laugh again…sprawled like a starfish on the king-sized bed.

He didn’t look different to her eyes. She’d seen him in many incarnations. Shy, college boy. Arrogant law student. Seductive lover. Loyal friend. But this new incarnation, well…it fit him like a glove.

Lee turned the light off, walking slowly back to the bed and her husband. She slipped quietly under the sheets, edging her leg between Wes’ legs. He mumbled, immediately turning his head towards her warmth.

“To have and to hold…even while you’re sleeping.” She whispered into his ear.

“Hmm…what? Did you say something, m’dear?” Brown eyes squinted at her, blind without his glasses.

Lee smiled, knowing she was nothing more than a blur. “Just repeating something I heard earlier.” His lips were much too tempting to not kiss, which she did. She was a smart woman after all.

Wes leaned into the kiss, drawing her lips between his teeth. The lasting memory of their first kiss, fresh in his mind. He loved her then and now.

Lee buried her face in his neck, wrapping her arms, her legs, her being around her man. He was her husband and she was his wife. No one would ever come between them.

“You do realize we’ll have to leave and go back to home.”

Lee looked up, pressing her finger to Wes’ lips. “Don’t want to think about home. Just want to think about you.” Kiss. “and me.” Kiss. “Everything else can wait.”

When Wes looked at her with those big brown eyes, she felt fifteen all over again. “I love the way you look at me.” She blurted out.

Wes wavered between shock and amusement. “Oh, really, and how do I look at you? I’m curious.” Now that the engagement and the wedding were over, Wes felt more like himself. The nervous, bumbling idiot had been put to rest. Lee was his forever and ever and he had the paperwork to prove it.

Lee didn’t have to give it much thought. “You look at me like I’m heaven on earth.”

A kiss to her forehead and an intertwining of their fingers was the only sign from Wes that he’d heard her. When the tears sprang up in his eyes, Lee felt her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

“You’re wrong, Lee. I look at you and see my everything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley looked out over the crowd, searching for Harmony. This was the third club he’d visited tonight, and he hoped it was his last. For a woman who prided herself on being an exhibitionist, Harmony had certainly perfected the art of invisibility in the last week. This was all his fault. He’d been in the wrong. Not exactly an unfamiliar position for him to be in. But the thing was that he wanted to apologize. He wanted to do whatever was needed to get Harmony back. Because he missed her. Not only in his bed or on the floor or wherever, but he also missed her laugh and her warped outlook on life, and the way she stood up for him, even when he was too dumb to realize she meant only the best for him.

He wasn’t the half-wit everyone assumed him to be. He’d taken the time to look up the word “groveling”. Just to be on the safe side. According to Webster’s Dictionary, there were several meanings. He could pick and choose.

1 : to creep with the face to the ground : CRAWL

2 a : to lie or creep with the body prostrate in token of subservience or abasement b : to abase oneself

3 : to give oneself over to what is base or unworthy : WALLOW <groveling in self-pity>

Basically, he needed to get on his knees and beg and plead with Harmony to forgive him. He didn’t mind doing that. Hell, that was part of the appeal of their relationship.

Riley scanned the dance floor again, noting that in the time he’d taken to meditate the club had filled up. Clubbers were everywhere. He’d never find Harmony in all of this.

“Wake the fuck up!!” The D.J. screamed from his perch. “Wake the fuck up! We’ve got two of the hottest porn stars with us tonight, and if you’re lucky, maybe they’ll go down on you.”

Riley’s eyes widened. Okay, he really wanted to find Harmony, but you couldn’t drag him away from this joint with a million dollar bribe. There was no fucking way he was going to miss a free show.

“Ahhhh…I see that got your attention. Well, a little birdie told me that our guests are getting busy in the back, so they can get busy for you.”

The excitement was building. No one knew who the porn stars were, but the free-flowing alcohol and drugs had everyone horny as a toad. Even Riley felt his little soldier rising to the occasion.

“Guys get your cocks ready, and girls get your quims wet. Here for your enjoyment and mine…oh, yeah..mine, we have Clem and Glory, stars of this year’s hottest selling video, Master Cock and Commander’s Slut.”

The curtains parted and out walked the couple of the hour, but a blonde in a short red mini who was screaming and jumping near the stage captured Riley’s attention.

Harmony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damn you, Riley Finn. Harmony screamed at the top of her lungs. For good measure, she threw in a couple of stomps, imagining Riley’s big fat head smashed under her stiletto heels.

That fucker had ruined her. That was the only reasonable explanation she could give for why she was not enjoying the hot action on stage. She loved Clem and Glory. Owned all their movies, and yet, nothing. Not a tingle or shudder. Nothing. She wanted to cry.

“Stupid jerk.” Harmony gnawed on the end of her straw, frustrated both sexually and mentally. How had she gotten herself into this stitch? She wasn’t supposed to fall in love. She wasn’t built that way. Love ‘em and leave ‘em Kendall. That was her nickname, but the six foot 2 lug had wormed his way into her heart, and for that he had to die.

Who was she fooling? She missed him. She missed his laugh, the way his nose would flare and his mouth would drop open when he was about to cum. She missed him, and she didn’t. He hurt her feelings, and she didn’t take kindly to that. Worse than that, he made her feel.

“Harm…Harm..Harm..whatever will we do with our little social butterfly?” Strong arms wrapped around Harmony’s waist.

Great, she inwardly groaned, just what I needed.

Harmony kept her eyes glued to the stage, watching as Clem and Glory reenacted a scene from their movie with the assistant of the DJ and a volunteer.

“Hello, Caleb. When did they let you out?”

Caleb’s chuckle made Harmony want to gag, but she allowed him to turn her in his arms. “Last week. You are a sight for sore eyes. Didn’t think I’d see you again. Grapevine says you’re hanging with a quote unquote straight-lace.”

Harm gritted her teeth, wanting desperately to ram her knee in Caleb’s crotch. Son of a bitch would start lecturing her soon. His nickname was Preacher, after all.

Harm pushed Caleb’s arms off. “What do you want Caleb? Did you just stop by to say hello or is this conversation going somewhere?”

The shift was so sudden, it would have surprised Harmony if she wasn’t familiar with it. Gone were the laughing eyes and charming smile, in their place were the dark, cold eyes and grimace of a man who didn’t like to be dismissed.

“That little mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble someday.” He said, menacingly.

“You’re probably right, but not tonight.” Riley stepped between Caleb and Harmony, shielding her with his body. Riley turned away from Caleb’s startled countenance to Harmony’s. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Connor sighed in his sleep, lips quirking into a grin. Dawn leaned up on her elbow, careful not to jar her sleeping companion. She had to press her face into the pillow to keep from giggling. He looked so peaceful, sleeping the sleep of the dead. For all Dawn knew, Connor was part zombie or something.

He should be exhausted. Lord knew being the protective, jealous boyfriend took a lot out of a fellow. Dawn supposed she should be upset with him, but he looked so damn cute brooding and glaring at the frat guys. She supposed for independent women everywhere she should put up a fight, but that would be the pot calling the kettle black. The big difference, though, was she looked good in green.

Connor stirred beside her, turning on his side away from her. Dawn scooted till their skin touched again.

“I’m hungry.” Connor grumbled.

“Me too.” Dawn kissed her way up his back, till she was draped half over him. “How ya doing this morning?”

Connor resisted telling her the truth, that he’d felt her eyes on him, her skin on his chest, her breath on his skin, and all of that had doubled his usual morning woody.

“My tongue feels like lead. My head may or may not be on straight. I’m not sure.”

Dawn patted Connor’s shoulder as she sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. “Well, if you weren’t trying to be all manly and stuff, you wouldn’t have gotten into a chugging contest with a bunch of guys that make that a weekly, no, daily event in their lives.”

Dawn wasn’t shouting. In fact, she was talking quietly, stroking his hair as she reprimanded him.

“God…why didn’t you stop me?” Connor groaned, clutching his head.

Dawn pulled his hands out of his hair, forcing Connor to look at her. Dawn wanted nothing more than to roll him onto his back and straddle him while they talked, but she wasn’t dumb or blonde. Guys got morning stiffies, and Connor was a guy. There was no point in tempting him with poisonous fruit.

“It would have taken draining every drop of testosterone from your body to get you to stop. You were jealous. You didn’t like the looks the guys were giving me, and guess what?” She said, a twinkle in her eyes. She leaned closer, brushing her lips across his lips, holding back the grimace as she took a whiff of stale beer and Jim Beam on Connor’s breath. “You weren’t the only one with a little green eyed monster perched on his shoulder. If not for my womanly sensibilities, there would have been a new batch of bald-headed girls today.”

One brown eyebrow quirked, amused and smug. “Really?”

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking and it involves me, other girls, and mud, don’t.”

Connor’s eyes widened and he shrugged innocently. “Who me? I would never think of you in that sense. I have the utmost respect for you.”

Dawn laid her head on Connor’s shoulder, scoffing at his protest. She would ignore the obvious lie of his statement. There were more pressing matters to consider. “Okay…you need nourishment. So do I. But…First things first. You and a toothbrush must become intimately acquainted.”

Connor shook her lightly. “As opposed to you and me becoming intimately acquainted?”

Dawn bumped Connor’s chin as she sat up. Oh, hell, Connor thought, she’s pissed. He was just joking. Didn’t she know that? Didn’t she realize he wouldn’t do anything to push her? He loved her.

A month ago, Dawn would have felt pressured by Connor’s statement, but that was then. Now, she took it for the joke it was. “Your toothbrush has known you longer.”

Connor blinked, his mouth gaping open slightly. Dawn snickered, her eyes widening as she saw the shock fade from Connor’s face. “Are you saying my breath stinks?”

Dawn nodded her head vigorously. “Uh huh. It’s making my eyelashes curl.”

“So a kiss is out of the question?”

“Not exactly.” Dawn wagged her finger slowly. “I’ve got a strong stomach.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.”

Tara lifted the boat on a wave created by a foot sliding across her thighs. Her brow arched, shaking her head in mock reproach. “Stop trying to rock my boat, Xander.”

“No fair. You’re hogging the boat.” Willow complained, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

“You’ve got a submarine between your legs, Will. You don’t see me complaining about my empty port.”

Xander blushed from the roots of his damp brown hair to his toes. “So nice to be compared to naval ships.”

Willow leaned back, her hand turning Xander’s head so she could capture his lips in a slow, hot kiss.

“Now, that just isn’t fair.” Tara pouted.

The trill of the phone paused Tara in mid-pout as she rose to join her lovers’ embrace. A little frustrated, Tara leaned over the edge of the tub to snatch the cordless off the rug.

She had a couple of choices.

Answer the phone. Delay trying to determine the record for underwater fellatio/cunnilingus.

Answer the phone. Be a giving girl and allow Willow her heterorgasm.

Answer the phone. Hop out the tub and get her own submarine. Decisions. Decisions.

She looked at the caller ID. “Vegas. Who the hell is calling us from Vegas?”

Willow pulled away from Xander, leaning forward to peer over Tara’s shoulder. “Who is it?”

“Let’s see. Hullo?”

“Tara. Don’t freak I didn’t elope.” Buffy was no fool. She knew the interworkings of Tara’s mind. It wouldn’t take more than a nanosecond for Tara to jump to the conclusion that Buffy and Spike had eloped to Vegas. While not a farfetched possibility, it wasn’t the case.

“Are you sure? Folks have been known to go to Vegas, get drunk, get the Vegas itch, end up at the Little Chapel of Love married to a hunky boy from Panama, and then no less than 55 hours later, they are annulled.”

Buffy snickered. Britney, thank you, for the endless comedic material.

“Hmm… I’m pretty sure me and my hunky boy from England are still single and loving it. We did have an elopement, though. Wes surprised Heller with a proposal and tickets to Vegas. We came along for the ride.”

Tara dropped the boat, watching as it float between Xander’s outstretched legs. Oh, her mind was so in the gutter right now.

“Ah ha…so no Charlie Brown’s. Oh, well, that just means we’ll have to take Heller there for a post-nuptial bachelorette party.”

“Why am I suddenly afraid?” Buffy responded.

“Because you know how Tara’s mind works.” Willow kissed the pout off Tara’s lips, multitasking by rolling her hips ever so slowly. “She may look all sweet and innocent on the outside, but on the inside, it’s hot and naughty.”

“Oh, brother.” Buffy groaned, her hand smacking her forehead lightly.

In the background, Buffy could hear the unmistakable splash of water against porcelain and a man on the verge of…

“Umm…Will…I need.. god..” Xander’s groans and moans had Buffy pulling the phone away from her ear, twisting up her mouth in dismay.

“Oh, Buffy…we’ve got to go. Xander’s kinda in a bind and…”

“No, go. Please. Go.” Buffy reiterated.

“Talk to you soon?” Willow asked even as Tara pressed her back against Xander’s chest.

“Yeah… tomorrow. I’ll call you when we get home.”

“Umm…o…”

Buffy clicked the phone off, throwing it across the room onto the bed. “Remind me to never continue a call with those two when I can hear panting and water in the background.”

Spike pushed Buffy’s hair over her shoulder, eyeing her with laughing eyes. “I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There had been a time when she feared him, when the timbre of his voice a hair above yelling would send her scurrying off to her room, weeping onto the chests of those damn antique dolls. That time was past. Saxby knew that little girl was long gone. It hadn’t taken puberty to convince him of his powerlessness. All he had to do was look into Druscilla’s black as coal eyes and know the truth. Inside, she was dead. There was only one thing Druscilla feared and that was losing her status, and it was a weapon he planned to use whenever he felt he needed to drive home a point.

“Damnit, Druscilla! I expected better of you and Liam. If you were having problems in your marriage, they should have been kept under wraps until the election was past. Or at the very least, you should have contacted someone within our circle of friends.”

Of course, Dr. Richard, drug doctor to the rich and famous of Greater San Diego County.

“Druscilla, dear, we’re only concerned for your happiness.” Marilyn scooted closer, cautiously placing her hand on Dru’s arm.

Dru’s gaze slowly shifted to her mother. Marilyn tensed as Dru raised her hand to caress Marilyn’s ivory cheek.

“Mother…Father… I promise you after the election, Liam and I will be closer than ever.” Her smile, her words did nothing to ease her father’s ire or her mother’s unease.

“A baby… that’s what will bring you and Liam closer together. You need to get yourself with child, flood his house with your offspring and he will not have time to think about straying. You aren’t barren, are you?”

Marilyn gasped, shocked by Saxby’s blunt question.

I wouldn’t have had to take precautions yesterday, if I were barren, Daddy. Yesterday…hmm… not an unpleasant memory in Dru’s mind.

Damn, now, the floor would need to be re-waxed. Dru mused as she firmed her grip on the back of the chair. Parker’s incessant pounding, while pleasing to a certain portion of her anatomy was nevertheless wrecking havoc on her hardwood floor. This romp would be worth it to see William and Liam’s faces when their women were found murdered. Oh, how, she would weep and beg Helen Rayne’s forgiveness for her teenage foolishness. She would put on a good show, as she’d always done to get what she wanted.

“Oh.” She gasped as her orgasm hit unexpectedly. Her knees buckled, but Parker’s hand on her back and his thighs pressed into her ass kept her from falling. She could feel his breath on her back, tickling the hairs of her neck.

With a final “Fuckin’ A”, Parker shuddered to a stop, his breathing heavy and raspy. Too much smoking, she presumed. Probably going to die of lung disease in the near future, which was great news for her. As she had stated earlier, dead men tell no tales.

“Whew. Thanks, Mrs. Cavanaugh. That hit the spot.”

“Yeah…good to the last drop.” She whispered under her breath. Dru rose slowly, her arms and back protesting their forced position. She kept the groan in her throat to a minimum, and set about straightening her clothes.

“So you were saying? How are we taking down Rayne once I kill the girls?” Parker asked as he done a shot of Scotch, pouring himself another one before flopping down on the sofa.

“You could have fixed me one.” Dru groused.

“This wasn’t a date, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Just me getting my nut off.”

Dru’s brows rose at that blunt statement, but she made no further comment on the subject. “Very well. Ethan and I were involved when I was underage. Of course, at the time, Ethan had no idea, and wouldn’t have cared. All he wanted was me, and he had me in every conceivable position and place.”

Parker could see the pride radiating from her face as she freely admitted to being a whore. After experiencing her talents, he could well understand why Ethan had been so careless, so reckless. Already, he felt his cock hardening with the thought of being inside her again. But it would have to wait until their business was completed.

“I knew I would need Ethan’s help at some point in the future, so I kept mementos of our times together. Flip through them fast enough and you have an old-fashioned porn show.” Dru moved and stood in front of Parker. So close, their mingled scent was overwhelming to him.

“Those pictures will somehow find their way into Buffy Summers’ hands. She’ll be the good, little girl scout and take them to Darla. Unfortunately for them, Ethan will get word of this, and send a hit man to take care of them. You’ll be that hit man.”

Parker jumped off the sofa, grabbing Dru’s arms. “What do you mean I’m the hit man? I’m not going down for this. I told you that.”

Dru giggled, darting her tongue out to caress his lips. “Patience, my sweet.” And laughed again at the darkened scowl directed her way. “You’ll go to the police. Tell them Ethan hired you to kill these women, but you refused. They’ll think Ethan hired someone else. Ethan will be dead. He won’t be able to dispute your claim. It’ll be perfect.”

Parker’s gaze held Dru’s dark, dancing eyes. She was insane, but he’d always preferred his women to be a bit psychotic.

“Who’s going to do, Rayne?”

Dru’s smile chilled his blood. “Oh, I think I’ll take that pleasure, myself. So, there’s the plan. What do you think?”

Parker looked out the window, shadows beginning to creep as the afternoon slowly turned into evening. Rayne was expecting him at 7. They had a few hours to bang out their plan further.

“I think,” he said, walking her backwards towards the bedroom, “you need to get out of those clothes. Our business is concluded. It’s time for a little fun.”

Druscilla gritted her teeth, knowing she had no choice but to be his whore for the night. Prostituting her body didn’t bother her conscience as much as it should. What really upset her was the kink in her plans to get her nails done tonight. Oh, well, she’d let him play with her body until he was ready to go, and all the while, she’d plot how to be rid of him when the time came. In the meantime, she’d enjoy getting her nut off too.

“Druscilla, have you heard a word I’ve said?” Saxby demanded.

Dru smiled, attempting to defuse the situation. “Oh, Daddy, you’re worrying for nothing.” Dru crossed the room to embrace her father. “Liam will be in the Governor’s mansion within four years, and I will be by his side and in his bed.”

Saxby cupped Druscilla’s chin. “You must be strong, Druscilla. Liam is a prize many would like to own. But he’s ours.” His smile was as cold as Druscilla’s eyes. “He’s ours.”

“No, Father. He’s mine.” She tapped his chin with her nail, smiling as she pulled away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ethan knew without being told what had occurred at the Cavanaughs’ home.

Welcome, Mr. Parker to the Brotherhood of Dru’s fuck partners. Dues are your balls in her Kate Spade bag for the rest of your life.

Parker reeked of her, like ash clinging to your clothes. The unbidden image of them rolling around, rutting like animals sent a shudder through Ethan’s frame.

Bet them having sex must sound like two dice rolling around in a backgammon game.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what she wanted?”

Ethan’s gaze rose from the papers he’d been reading to the younger man sprawled on his sofa. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Parker there was no reason to be smug. Druscilla went through lovers the way most people went through toilet tissue.

“I assumed she wanted to finalize her plans. Or was there something else to the meeting?”

The majority of Parker’s features were shaded by his hands clasped in front of his face, so only his eyes were visible. “Mrs. Cavanaugh is an angry woman. I wouldn’t want to cross her on a darkened street corner. She’s the type to bring two guns to a knife fight.”

Ethan chortled. “You’re right. It wouldn’t be wise to underestimate her.” Ethan felt he should warn his young friend or was that fiend. Just because Druscilla allowed him between her legs, didn’t mean she wouldn’t slip a knife into his ribs. Oh, well, Ethan sighed, live and learn.

“She wants to kill her husband’s campaign manager and her ex’s lover.”

Ethan’s hand paused in the air. The papers held between his fingers forgotten. “What? Why for the love of god?”

Parker shrugged. The whys were not as important as the other stuff she wanted him to do. Frame the man who’d kept him out of prison. Kill two women he had nothing against. Nope, the whys weren’t important. “She wants them to suffer. They are happy, and she’s jealous.”

“Fuck. I thought she would have you attack the girl, rough her up a bit, maybe ransack her house, but murder! God, she’s a fucking homicidal bitch.”

Parker grinned, his tongue darted out from between his teeth. He could still taste her on his lips, feel the sting of her nails on his back and ass. She was bitch, but a damn fine lay.

“Please tell me you wore a wire.” Ethan shook his head. “Don’t bother. I know you didn’t. Pretty hard to hide a wire when you’re butt naked, isn’t it Mr. Parker?”

Parker pulled out his cigarettes, tapping the box on his knee. “I had to gain her trust. If she’d found the wire, we would have been out of business. And…I had to fuck her. It’s all a part of the act. She has to believe her cunt is so enticing that I’ll do anything for her to get to her.”

Edgar squared his shoulders, pining Parker with a hard look. “I’ve had her. I know what she can do to a man with those muscles. You will do anything to experience that again.” Ethan had to wonder. Was Parker the type of man who’d throw away his freedom for pussy? Would he throw in with Dru just to screw her on a regular basis? Ethan understood Dru’s allure and with her poised to move up another rung on the political ladder, she could offer more to Parker than Ethan could.

Parker held Ethan’s stare, time ticking by. Were Ethan’s suspicions raised? Did he suspect the alliance between Dru and himself? Well, Parker would have to divert suspicion if Dru’s plan was going to work. Parker slipped the carton back into his pocket.

“Look, this works out better for us. Bedroom confessions are always more credible. They’ll know she trusted me enough to bed me, and therefore, she told me the truth.”

Ethan remained silent, continuing to size Parker up. Finally, after what seemed like hours to Parker, he sighed and sat down behind his desk. “You’d better hope so. If not, it’s our asses in a sling. Okay, as soon as you get the evidence on tape we’ll go to the police. Did she give you a time frame for the murders?”

“Nope. She’s more concerned about the election coming up. She doesn’t want anything to distract from her husband’s campaign.”

Ethan’s head bobbed as he closed his eyes in concentration. “That figures. Dru wouldn’t do anything that would take away from her big night, and I do mean hers. This isn’t so much about Liam being elected as Dru being crowned. Okay, so that gives us a few days to get things set up with the authorities.”

“I’m meeting her tonight. I’ll get her talking about the murders again.” After a drill her into the bed.

“You do that.” Ethan snickered knowingly. “Dru loves to brag about her conquest, both in bed and in business. She’ll talk.”

Parker fished a fag out of his pack, grinning around the tip of it. “Everything going to plan, Ethan. You’ll get your revenge and Druscilla will get what she deserves.” And, silently he added, I’ll get what I deserve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dru viewed the photos with the eye of a professional.

She was gorgeous, of course.

Ethan had a nice body for an older man.

The knots he tied looked so much more painful on a glossy 8X10 than they actually were.

“It’s time my pretties for you to leave your home and go out into the world.” Dru slid the last of the photos into the envelope, sealing it with glue. It wouldn’t do for her errand boy to open these and put his grubby hands on the photos. No need to give the police a leg up on their future investigation.

Dru looked out her window at the building housing Barton Investigations. She knew the lazy fuck would be in his office. It was after all two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon.

There was no knock on the door to announce her presence. Phillip Barton didn’t even have time to get his gun out of his holster. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw who it was.

There were no formalities either. “I need this package taken to FedEx.”

Phillip Barton pushed his incredible bulk away from the desk, regarding his former client.

“Thought I wasn’t qualified enough to wipe dog shit off your shoes.” Grubby hands grabbed a half-eaten 5th Avenue bar, taking great pleasure in the look of disgust that crossed her face.

Dru eyed the vinyl covering of the chair, inspecting it for any stains that might not come out with regular dry cleaning. Finding none, she sat, leveling Phillip with a smal smile, the first he’d ever seen grace her face.

“You have your uses, Mr. Barton. If I didn’t think you were capable, I wouldn’t have come to you.” She left off that he was virtually forgettable. No one would remember who had delivered the package, making the job of backtracking much harder.

“Why can’t you take it yourself? I’m a busy man. I’m not an errand boy.”

Dru rolled her eyes. “We’ll play this however you want. I came to you because of our past relationship. I can easily find someone willing to make a quick half grand.”

Fire engine red nails scooped up the small box of pictures and strode for the door. Druscilla knew even before she stood up that Phillip Barton wouldn’t let easy money walk out the door.

“Wait…wait! Don’t be like that. Ol’ Phil was just kidding.” Moving faster than Druscilla thought possible, Barton was at the door, blocking her exit. “Anything you ask, I’ll do for you. You know that.”

Dru eyed him for a second before handing him the box and the envelope. “It needs to be there by Monday. Don’t fail me. You won’t like the consequences, Mr. Barton.”

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