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Author's Chapter Notes:
eventually dark, angsty, underage sex, increasing levels of kink, and utterly unrealistic demands on Spike’s stamina :) it will * remain consensual *. I’ll try to mark any special kink warnings on a chapter-by-chapter basis.

beta'd by the lovely goddessofmercy

I almost fell into that hole in your life,
You weren’t thinking bout tomorrow,
Cause you were the same as me,
But on your knees…
--Goo Goo Dolls' Black Balloon
Previously:
“Good thing I’m done with the book, because after that, I’m not sure I could get much work done in this office.” Spike laughed. “Not that I wasn’t already daydreaming of you like a git every time I was in here before.”

She smiled and nuzzled into his neck. “You were?”

“Like a lovestruck teenager.” He laughed suddenly, like he realized what he’d just said. His arms tightened around her as his laughter slowed to a chuckle. “God, I’m a dirty bastard.”

Spike was quiet for a moment. “Buffy, you know, if we were home in England, this would be perfectly legal, but here—“

“I know. I won’t tell anyone.” She kissed his shoulder.

“Good girl.”


~*~*~*~



That Friday was a gorgeously warm summer day. Buffy was making breakfast when Spike slid up behind her, pulled her hair aside, and kissed her neck.

“Just the guy I was looking for,” she announced with a smile in her voice.

“Really?” he yawned, still sleepy. “Looks more like you were makin’ eggs.” He nipped at her shoulder, making her laugh.

“Well…yeah.” Buffy turned to face him and gave him her best daddy’s-girl demeanor (‘and wasn’t that 10 kinds of wrong, you old perv’). “But I wanted to ask you, since it’s so nice out, and since it’s Friday, mind if I had a couple friends over to enjoy the fantabulous pool? Jackson’s pretty much at the water-baby age anyway, it would be good for him.”

Spike was charmed by her ploy despite himself. Bad enough that he was shagging her during her workday, now he was throwing her pool parties. But he was a gullible sod, and she was adorable. “Sure, pet, invite ‘em over. I think I can stand it as long as they’re all cute girls in bikinis. No testosterone but mine.”

Buffy giggled, as only girls that age do. “Who said you were invited?”

“I’d say you did, when you offered to put my infant in the pool,” he winked at her.

“Oh. Right. Well I’ll tell Faith and Cordy to come on over then.” Spike could practically taste the excitement bubbling under her words as she reached for her cell phone.

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Faith, Cordy, Buffy. Don’t any of you bints have normal names these days? Like Jane? Or Sarah?”

“Pot-kettle-black, Spike, father of Jackson.” He smiled despite himself. She definitely had him there.

“I’ll have you know, my mum named me William. Can’t help that I didn’t want to go through life with a pansy monicker like that. Dru named the baby, and she was daft on painkillers at the time.” Buffy snorted in amusement.

~*~*~*~

It was no coincidence that Spike wandered past Buffy’s room as she was changing into her red string bikini. She had sunbathed in it on Wednesday, the tease, and he’d had a niggling fantasy ever since.

She smelled like the coconut sunblock she was massaging into her skin when he wrapped himself around the back of her mostly-bare body. Coconut and shampoo and girl, and she was a little pink from the other day. Buffy had the kind of skin that would turn quickly to gold. He buried his nose in her shoulder and breathed in.

“Need any help with that?” Spike rumbled, catching her eyes in the vanity mirror.

He was hard and he knew she could feel it against her when her voice came out a little husky. “I’m good.”

“Really?” he asked speculatively, smirking. “Wanna be naughty?” He slid his hand into Buffy’s bikini bottoms and brushed a finger over her outer lips. She parted her legs a little and he braced her torso against his with one arm. She was already moist for him. Spike gave her a wicked grin. “I think you do.”

Buffy made a noise that was half censure, half pleading whine. “They’re gonna be here soon.”

“We should get on with it then, shouldn’t we?” He picked her up and dropped her on the bed, quickly stripping off his jeans. She reached for the ties of her suit. “Leave it,” he ordered.

Spike reclined, once again, against the headboard and stretched out. “C’mere, sweets,” he said, reaching for her. Buffy crawled into his lap and he kissed her hungrily, running his hands over all that supple, exposed skin. He rubbed her through the fabric of the bottoms, until she was moaning and squirming in his lap, pressing her tits against his chest. He reached for the drawer and pulled out a condom.

“Turn around, pet.” Buffy looked a little confused at the instruction but did as he asked. Spike rolled on the condom and guided her so that she straddled his hips facing away. Pulling her bikini bottoms to the side, he slid his middle two fingers into her pussy. Buffy moaned and ground against his hand, and Spike avidly watched her ass clench as he flicked her clit. He looked up into the vanity’s mirror at the foot of the bed, to see her face flush below her closed eyes, her lithe frame undulating against the hand on her twat. The dual view was sensational. He was a bloody genius.

Spike withdrew and slid his hands to her hips, shifting her, and then guiding his cock and encouraging her to slide down onto him. Buffy’s eyes flew open and met his in the mirror. Spike smirked when she blushed at their self-voyeurism.

He was fully inside her now. Buffy’s hands were braced on her thighs and her bikini-covered ass rested against his lower stomach. She clenched at him with strong vaginal muscle, but didn’t move. Smiling at her through their reflection, Spike ran a tickling finger along the arch of her upturned foot, which was resting near his waist. She gasped and jerked up from the touch, then sank back down.

“That’s the idea, pet,” he teased.

Self-conscious from the mirror, Buffy closed her eyes and rotated her hips in a circle. “Yeah,” he breathed and ran his hand up along her spine, slipping up under the strap of the bikini top, and back down. Spike urged her into a rhythm with the hand on her hip, the tempo erratic as she learned to control the movement.

Spike squeezed her ass and watched Buffy in the mirror. She bit her lip, brows drawn together in concentration, and her tits were bouncing up and down beneath the bikini top. Just then, she picked up the pace, undulating forwards and backwards as she bounced.

“God, Buffy, you are so fucking sexy, pet.” Spike couldn’t keep his hands off of her—the curve of her ass, the smooth expanse of her thighs and calves, the clean lines of her back. So much skin, and he wanted to touch every inch of it.

Buffy’s eyes popped open at his words and met his in the mirror, but she didn’t falter, too wrapped up in the rhythm to feel self-conscious. It only made him hotter, to see her watching them too.

“Play with yourself,” he ordered, his voice gruff. She shuddered and her hand slid into the bikini bottoms, out of sight, but Spike could see the pleasure on her face and hear her whimpering his name. He grabbed ahold of her hips and upped the pace, slamming up into her and she was shouting. Spike could see her hand moving frantically against her clit under the thin material.

“God, Spike, I’m…I need….”

It was pretty begging, and on a whim, Spike slid his hands beneath her bikini bottoms and pulled her cheeks apart. He pressed his thumb against the soft opening that was hidden from his view. Before Buffy could even breath out a whole “what,” Spike was easing just the tip of his thumb inside the tight sensitive ring of muscle, and she yelled out as she came, both entrances seizing down around him. Fleetingly, Spike thought of taking her there someday, how tight she would be, and he shuddered and emptied himself into the condom.

Buffy sagged forward. “Holy…shit.” She laughed a little in disbelief. “That was…um…I didn’t expect…”

“This?” he suggested, wiggling his thumb as he caught his breath.

Her breath hitched. “Yeah…that.”

Spike withdrew his thumb from her arse and sat up, his cock shifting soft inside her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Buffy leaned back against his chest as he rested his chin on her shoulder, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

“Was that ok?” he probed quietly.

Buffy laughed. “Okay doesn’t really cover it.” He flashed her a sexy grin.

“Believe me, I could tell. But I meant, was it ok that I did that?”

She shrugged. “Did the trick, that’s for sure. I’d just never really thought of…it…that way.”

Spike kissed her pink shoulder. It held the first blush of summer freckles. “It can feel very good if you’re careful.”

Buffy held his eyes for a long time. “Everything feels good with you.”

Her tone was so quiet and earnest that Spike felt strangely as though the comment held more significance than its face value. He hesitated, unsure how to respond. As luck would have it, he was saved from the intensity of the moment by the doorbell.

Buffy squeaked at the chime. “Crap! That’s Faith and Cordy!”

With a grin, Spike shifted her off of him and smacked her ass. “I’ll get it. I suggest you change into a different suit.” He threw out the condom and pulled on his jeans.

He chuckled when Buffy blanched at the thought of meeting her friends in one that showed evidence of their recent activities.

~*~*~*~

Spike walked around in the pool with Jackson, letting the baby splash and giggle as Spike steadied the floaty device and tickled him on his chubby baby tummy. The water felt good, since it was baking out. He’d nearly burned the bottoms of his feet off getting in the pool, and didn’t know how the girls could stand laying out on the deck chairs like so many pieces of bread in the toaster oven. Probably didn’t want to get their hair wet, or some nonsense.

He looked back towards the girls sitting with Buffy. Both of them were brunette and mouthy, making comments they probably thought were cleverly veiled but were, in actuality, painfully obvious. Spike thought it was hilarious, but Buffy kept turning interesting shades of red. Hell, how could he not be amused and flattered, when all three were attractive in that youthful kind of way, and Buffy’s friends were making clumsy passes at him from the moment he opened his front door?

Buffy was clearly agitated by something, and was trying to keep their conversation hushed. She was failing…the pool wasn’t that big and her friends weren’t that quiet. The wild-haired one was watching him openly.

“B, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t know how you stand it. You didn’t tell me he was such a DILF—“

“Oh god, don’t say it.”

“A Dad I’d like to—“

“FAITH!”

Spike turned his head into Jackson’s hair to hide his laughter. God, that was priceless, he’d never heard that one before. He decided it was time to put Buffy out of her misery and excuse himself.

All conversation ceased with shushing as Spike walked over to the deck chairs and grabbed his towel. “Nice to meet you ladies,” he greeted. “Let’s make this an open invitation for Fridays, yeah?” He smirked as they squealed predictably.

“Don’t stay out here too long, Goldilocks. Ruin your weekend if you get all burnt to a crisp.” Spike tugged on one of Buffy’s braided pigtails as he walked by, and she grinned.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Faith smacked Buffy’s arm. “You total slut! You’re fucking the horror novelist!”

“No! There’s nothing….”

“Oh, please, like it wasn’t so obvious to all of us who have eyes,” Cordelia broke in. “Have you completely slipped your hold on reality? He is married. With a son, who you were hired to watch.”

Buffy didn’t see the point in denying it, when they wouldn’t believe her anyway. “She knows.”

Cordy and Faith both looked at her blankly. “Let me be the first to say, what?” Cordy asked, all attitude.

“They have an open marriage. They sleep with other people. His wife knows.”

Faith stared at Buffy strangely and then began to nod her head, breaking out in a smile and looking psyched at the idea.

Cordelia looked around uncomfortably as she tried to make sense of the information. “Huh. Interesting. So…Interesting.”

“Don’t be such a prude, Princess. I say, hell yeah. He’s great in the sack, I bet.”

Buffy blushed. “Um, yeah.”

“Do you do it every day?” God, Buffy cursed the day Faith was made so forward and curious.

“Pretty much.”

“Man, and they pay you. That’s kinda like…”

“DON’T even say it, or I will kick your ass.”

“Well for the record, I wouldn’t mind a ride on the married merry-go-round, so…”

“God, Faith, you are so trashy.”

“Hey, I’m not the one fucking my married boss while I’m supposed to be burping his kid.”

~*~*~*~

Spike threw another sidelong glance to Buffy in the passenger seat. She had been quiet and fidgety the whole drive to her mother’s apartment. She started to speak a couple of times, but would then shake her head and go mute, staring out the window.

“Spill it, sweets.” Buffy jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Uhh…Faith and Cordy sorta figured it out.” She shifted guiltily in her seat.

Spike stared at her hard until he was forced to look back to the road. “You told them?”

Buffy looked panicked and began to babble. “No! No. Like I said, they figured it out. I tried to deny it but they said it was obvious, and they were really pissed at me for cheating on your wife with you, so I had to tell them about how your marriage was so they wouldn’t think I was…you know…and….”

Spike felt his eye begin to twitch from the rising pitch of teenage nervous babble. “Woah. Woah. Calm down, it’s ok,” he soothed. “They likely to tell anyone? Did you tell them not to?”

Buffy relaxed a hair. “I mean, they have no tact, but neither of them is the gossiping type. And it’s really only the three of us anyway, so I don’t know who they’d tell. I told them that it had to be a secret.”

Spike tapped the steering wheel a few times. He wasn’t thrilled they knew but…nothing to be done about it now. And in the least, Buffy needed reassurance. “Ok. Then, I guess that’s all that can be done. Besides, my pool is pretty good bribery, don’t you think?” He slid Buffy a sideways grin and she giggled and agreed, the mood lifted.

They pulled up in front of her apartment building. “So, gonna miss me, pet?”

“Yes,” she pouted, “but you’ll be too busy to miss me.”

Spike ignored the slight undertone of jealousy and grinned at her. “Damn straight I’ll be busy. Me and the Missus always have catchin’ up to do come the weekend.”

Spike glanced surreptitiously around the parking lot and pulled Buffy in for a breezy kiss. “Out you go, stay outta trouble and I’ll be here to pick you up bright and early Monday.”

~*~*~

Weeks passed more quickly now for Buffy, even though weekends tended to drag a little. Buffy found herself once again staring down the barrel of 48 hours in that tiny apartment with her mom, but since she was currently tucked up snug against a naked Spike, now would be one of the quick-moving, carefree moments.

She’d never tell him this, but Buffy enjoyed the post-coital cuddling that Spike was prone to as much as she enjoyed the sex. And that was saying something, since she liked the sex a whole freaking lot. Even so, as time wore on, the ‘after’ began to eclipse the ‘during,’ for Buffy.

“When did you know you wanted to be a writer?” Buffy’s head was pillowed on Spike’s chest, and she was listening to the steady lub-dub of his heart. She snuggled in further in contentment. Another week gone by…she stubbornly refused to think about the weekend ahead, which would bring their separation.

Spike yawned and pulled his fingers through her hair. “What’s that, kitten?”

She lifted her head and smiled at him. “I don’t want you to think I’m just using you for your very yummy body. So I’m taking an interest,” she explained. “When did you know you wanted to be a writer?”

He leered at her. “You think I have a ‘yummy body,’ do you?”

Buffy hit his chest. He was all about the distraction, and she was shamefully easy to distract. “I think I already showed you how yummy I think it is. But ‘show’ is over, now it’s time for the ‘tell.’”

Spike chuckled and gently pushed her head back to his chest. She let him, pressing her ear against his sternum once more. “Well,” he said, his voice rumbling pleasantly under her cheek, “I suppose it was less of a question of deciding I wanted to be a writer, and more a question of deciding I wanted other people to read what I’d written. I’ve always been scribbling one thing or another, as long as I’ve known how to make my letters.”

“Really?” She pictured little Spike writing little stories in crayon. The image made her smile.

“Yeah. Being a writer is about having stories livin’ inside of you. Real people with real lives that go tramping around in your head, makin’ brave choices and stupid ones…”

The idea was ridiculously romantic. But because this was a no-romantic-sigh relationship, Buffy caught her sigh and squashed it. With a big heavy boot. Squashed it dead. As a handy alternative, try teasing sarcasm.

She looked up at Spike’s face. “Or getting their heads chopped off? Cuz if that’s what being a writer’s all about, you have some pretty freaky stories living inside of you, mister. Maybe you should seek counseling.” Spike laughed, and Buffy felt full to bursting with the goodness. “Anyway, that has to be weird, to have your thing be so much a part of your identity like that.”

“…What do you mean, luv?”

“Well like, for years my thing was kick-boxing. But kick-boxing didn’t live inside of me…it was mostly just about the hitting stuff.” Even as she said it, she wondered suddenly if that was true. There was an emptiness in her life where kickboxing had been, an emptiness in her. But with the end of her kickboxing career timed as it was, it was hard to tell…there had been a lot of emptiness in her life after that. A lot of things suddenly lacking.

Buffy almost forgot about that, when she was here in Spike’s arms. Almost. Until she left, and it came back with a vengeance.

Spike buried his nose in her hair and she could feel him smiling. “You were a kick-boxer? Were your gloves all pink and frilly?”

She resisted the urge to jab him in the solar plexus. Pink and frilly. Buffy glared up at him instead, at the patronizing look on his face. “I was good, I’ll have you know. I can kick your ass.” A horny, intrigued look passed over his face, and that was a little better. “I was even teaching for a while, and I competed well. Took regionals and state, this year, but I quit right before nationals.”

Spike looked suitably impressed, but confused as well. “No longer seemed important?”

Buffy looked away. Suddenly his right shoulder was very fascinating. “Yeah, during the divorce, it didn’t exactly register as a priority for anyone.” She sat up, and he was studying her thoughtfully.

“Well you know you’re welcome to the home gym any time you like.” Buffy shrugged, and Spike’s expression shifted to a suggestive smirk. He trailed a finger down her bare arm. “But the only place you’re allowed to tackle and pin me is right here.” He paused, having a thought that was clearly naughty. “Well…on second thought, there are a number of places where that’s permissible, as long as the tackling ends in penetration.”

Buffy smacked him good-naturedly on his shoulder. “Pig.”

“You love it.”

God help her, she did.

~*~*~*~





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