Summary: Rewrite of Harsh Light of Day.
Rating: NC-17
Still reeling from Spike's last punch, Buffy staggered backwards and fell to her knees. Flinging her hair out of her eyes, she glared up at him.
"So, tell me" he said, turning to face her with his hands jammed in his front pockets. "What did it take to pry apart the slayer's dimpled knees?"
Not much at all, Buffy was ashamed to realize. A bit of loneliness, a practiced line of bullshit, and an air of phony sensitivity had caused her to make the second stupidest decision of her newly begun sex life.
"You're a pig, Spike," she spat venomously.
Of course, Parker is a pig too. Maybe a bigger one than Spike. At least Spike never flew under false colors. He was what he was, and never pretended differently.
God, she was so fucking sick of men! Mortals AND vampires, the whole gender could go to hell on a shovel as far as she was concerned.
"Wonder what you did wrong?"
Spike was speaking again, sensing that he'd lost her attention.
On her knees, Buffy backed up a few feet, though he made no aggressive moves towards her. From a distance, she imagined they appeared to be friends making casual conversation.
She wanted badly to scream a denial at him, to ask him just what made him think that SHE had done anything wrong, and, just maybe, it was Parker who'd messed up; that she'd had her fun, but was now done with him.
But, she couldn't say any of that. Not when Spike had witnessed the whole ugly little scene, including her own nauseating behavior as she'd trailed after Parker like a lost puppy, practically begging him to acknowledge her.
Her worst enemy had watched, and laughed, as she had every shred of of her pride and self esteem trampled into the dust.
As galling as it was, though, she couldn't help thinking that she'd deserved to get punched in the face.
Perhaps it would teach her to use better judgement with men in the future.
Angel and Parker. Not exactly cut from the same cloth, but still, one night with her and it's Bye-Bye Miss American Pie...don't call me and I won't call you.
Much as she'd rather bite off her tongue than admit it, Spike had been right...she HAD been pathetic.
But knowing that he was right just didn't sit well with her.
She had to give the bastard credit for one thing...HE hadn't run out on HIS lover. No, he'd stuck to that dingbat girlfriend of his like a mustard plaster, for over a hundred years.
Probably still be with her if it hadn't been for him throwing in with the slayer to rid the world of Angelus...which was also Buffy's fault, since she'd been the one to fuck Angelus back to life in the first place.
"Were you too strong?" Spike leered at her. "Did you bruise the boy?"
Continuing to glare at him, Buffy didn't reply.
Spike shrugged. "Oh, well...maybe you're just not worth a second go."
"Come to think of it," he said with a pensive look. "Somebody told me as much. Now, who was it..."
She knew what was coming.
"Oh, yeah...Angel."
It was a moment of crystal clarity in an otherwise muddy day.
She stood up slowly and placed her hands on her hips. Locking her eyes on his, she moved just a step closer.
She tilted her head slightly and looked up him from beneath her bangs, giving him the most seductive look she knew how to give.
Moistening her lips with her tongue instantly riveted his attention on her mouth.
""Not worth it?" she asked, wide-eyed. "Do you really think so, Spike? Because," she shook her hair back out of her eyes, "it's kind of funny that you'd say that considering you've never...tested the theory."
Spike narrowed those gold colored eyes of his, watching every move she made.
"You know, I've only had two lovers. And both of them were," she cringed inwardly, hating to say it, "one night stands. So, you can just imagine how tight I am...down there."
Buffy allowed one hand to drift over her thigh, her thumb barely brushing the zipper of her slacks.
"I'm sure you know that a normal human temperature is 98.6 degrees, but, personally, I feel a lot hotter than that..." she lowered her voice and whispered..."between my legs."
Although he said nothing, her last comment provoked a visible reaction, an involuntary push forward of his hips. When she snuck a quick peek, she saw a definite and hefty bulge in the front of his jeans.
God, this was fun! Getting a reaction like this from a vampire who claimed to hate everything about her was more than a little exciting. It was actually giving her back her sense of feminine power.
And it sure didn't hurt that the vampire in question was extremely good looking and wickedly sexy.
He was watching her now, like a cat with a mouse. "Do tell, luv," he murmured.
Although who was the cat, and who was the mouse was up for grabs at the moment.
"Being new at it and all," she went on, moving her hand to the back of her neck and lifting up her hair as though to expose it to the cool breeze, then dropping it again, "I've gotta say that it's a good thing I get so amazingly wet...otherwise having sex might be kind of...uncomfortable if a man is...well endowed."
She glanced at him, highly pleased with the way this encounter was turning out.
Turning to face him fully, she let her eyes move slowly, appraisingly, up and down
his body, zeroing in on the ever growing hardness in his pants.
She was surprised to feel her own juices heating up. Her breathing was a little more rapid, and her skin felt...tingly.
A lot more so than it had with Parker.
She shook her head, trying to concentrate. "Of course, how wet I get really depends on how well a man can do his job...doesn't it?"
By now, Buffy was fairly certain that if he chose to, Spike could make her wetter than an amazon rain forest in the middle of the monsoon season.
She had to wrap this up, before things got out of hand.
"Still," she shrugged her shoulders, "you might be right. Maybe I'm just not worth it."
Bending over to pick up her book bag, she couldn't resisit giving him a look down the front of her shirt. When she straightened, she went up on her toes to whisper in his ear, letting him feel the warmth of her breath.
"But maybe...I am."
She dropped back down to her feet, smiled and winked at him saucily, then turned to leave. She felt so good about herself again that she had no interest in continuing the fight or in getting hold of that stupid ring.
Buffy had gotten less than ten yards away when she felt a hand catch hold of her arm. Turning around, she saw Spike standing there, no longer wearing his game face.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I want to take you up on your offer." His fingers slid caressingly down her arm and took hold of her hand.
Buffy was surprised, both by his words and by the fact that they sounded so appealing.
"My offer? I made an offer?"
Spike lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.
"For me to...how did you put it...test my theory."
The tender gesture made her breath catch in her throat, and the expression in his dark eyes caused a twinge in her vitals.
She found herself noticing things about him, as though she was seeing him for the first time.
The seductive smile; the aggressive body language that blatantly announced his attitude towards life...'if I want it, I take it' ; the startling contrast of dark brows against pale skin; the deep blue eyes that saw right through all her bravado; the face that was so perfectly made that only the scar on his eyebrow, and the cocky expression he usually sported, kept if from being described as pretty.
A little over average height, he was leanly built and she had personal knowledge of how strong he was.
Although she'd never seen him without layers of clothing on, she felt certain that a body corded with hard muscle was hidden beneath all that cotton and leather.
Buffy felt his hand tighten around her fingers.
Great. NOW what was she gonna do? She'd started this. Did she have the guts to see it through to its conclusion...did she want to?
Looking up at him, she tried to stall.
"But I thought you hated me."
He smiled. "Yeah, I thought so too." Placing his free hand on her waist, he pulled her closer.
Buffy gasped out loud when she felt an impressive erection rubbing against her.
Moving his hips, he adjusted his position and ground his sex down on hers. When he found the right spot, he placed both his hands on her rear and squeezed, pushing her even more firmly against his hard length.
"Oh..." Her eyes drifted slowly closed as she struggled for a little self control. "Stop it," she whispered.
Spike just grinned. "Make me," he invited.
"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She wasn't gonna be able to do it...to make him stop. Her brain told her to use any means necessary to push him away, but her body had staged a revolution and was taking over.
Unable NOT to, she returned the pressure he was applying, copying him by reaching behind him and taking a hold of his backside.
"Slayer," he said softly. "You never stop surprising me."
"Likewise," she murmured, lifting her face and moistening her lips.
Spike paused just long enough to say, "Open your mouth, kitten," before he lowered his head and took what she was offering him.
Sometime during the longest, hottest, most penetrating kiss she'd ever been on the receiving end of, Buffy's arms crept up around Spike's neck, tightening as she felt her feet lose touch with the ground.
Spike suddenly pulled back. "Let's go," he said, lowering her back to her feet and tugging on her hand.
Buffy was still trying to clear her head. "Sure, okay...let's go...let's go where?
He didn't stop to answer her, just kept hauling her along behind him. "I'll be damned if I'm gonna take you right out in the open and give
all these idiots a good look at you."
She smiled as she stumbled along after him.
Spike stopped abruptly, not even swaying when she plowed into him. "Where's the witch?" he asked.
"What witch?" She looked at him, a little confused, her mind still fuzzy as she tried to concentrate on something besides the four alarm fire that was racing through her body. "Oh, you mean Willow? I dunno, I guess she's in class."
"Not in your room?"
"I don't think so."
Spike nodded. "Then that's where we're going.
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