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Love Comes to Town by Soul of the Rose
 
Chapter Twelve ~ Do You Wanna Touch Me?
 
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**Thank you all for your many wonderful reviews. I send you all great big wet smooches of luuuv (and a new chappie...)**



Chapter Twelve ~ Do You Wanna Touch Me?

“We’ve been here too long, trying to get along – pretending that you’re oh so shy.
I’m a natural man, doing all I can – my temperature is running high.
Late at night, no one’s in sight and we got so much to share.
Talking’s fine if you got the time, but I ain’t got the time to spare.
Do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch me?”

~ Joan Jett and the Blackhearts



It had been a very uncomfortable meeting for Spike. Trying not to stare at Buffy, trying to ignore her tantalizing scent, trying to think of anything other than having his way with her on every available surface in the bloody shop.

*There was somethin’ I always wanted to try on the vaulting horse…*

Sod it all, now he was hard again. He’d just pictured it instantly, vividly; Buffy’s beautiful bare bum draped enticingly over the side, inviting him to spank it, nibble it and…his erection throbbed.

*Must. Control. Self.*

Being a walking hard-on was getting to be a serious nuisance. He was about to actually earn the label ‘Wanker’. It was every soddin' day now, more than once. He’d had other obsessions before, but nothing like this. Even Dru, lovely crazy Dru, had never gotten to him this badly. And he had belonged to her for over a century. Spike suspected he was getting in way over his head here…

What was it about this girl? Why did everything about her scream at him to claim her, make her his own? He felt like a bloody cave man asserting his mating rights. Spike smirked, enjoying the image his brain supplied of dragging Buffy off into his cave. She was wearing one of those little fur bikinis like Raquel Welch in… Uh oh, Buffy was frowning at him. She’d caught him leering in her direction and didn’t look at all pleased. He slapped on a frown of concentration and stared intently at Giles – a very decent facsimile of a man paying attention.

Something about that Glory chippie again. Watch out for the minions. Right, got it. Ooo, and patrol with Buffy, nice! Just him and her – ‘cause they were the strongest and it was right dangerous out an’ all. Brilliant! Alone time with Buffy – smelling her, watching her fight, perhaps a spot of lively banter…maybe he could even talk her into some quality time with the vaulting horse later. Spike chuckled to himself at that.

*Not bloody likely, Mate.*

Yeah, but a fella can dream can’t he?

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Buffy didn’t like the way Spike was eyeballing her at all. He appeared to be having thoughts of the no good variety. She wondered if he was planning something. But that was ridiculous; Spike was a puppy on a permanent leash now. He couldn’t hurt a fly. Plus he’d been annoyingly helpful and eager to please lately. Which meant… that he was probably having thoughts of the naughty variety. Equally no good. It was bad enough that she was having them. If he was having them too, and then they were both having them together… Well, that could only lead to very wrong bad things. Things that could not be named. Or talked about in mixed company. THAT'S how wrong they were. Things she could never tell her mother or even Willow about…

*Like Spike fucking me into the ground behind the front counter.*

Looks like Bad Buffy Brain was back with a vengeance. Damn. Although that thing she thought about doing with him in the book loft sounded kinda fun. She felt her eyes drifting up in that direction.

*Ooooo, the ladder. Didn’t even get to that yet…*

She eyed the steep wooden steps that lead to the off-limits books thoughtfully, mental wheels a-spinning. Uh oh, Giles was speaking to her, and she’d missed half of what he’d said.

“…. patrol tonight, Buffy.”

*Yay – patrol. Something I’m actually good at.*

“ Of course, Giles. No problem.”

“ Excellent. I think you and Spike can set off. We’re done for the evening.”

*Crap. Well, that’ll teach me to pay attention.*

Buffy remembered what it was she’d been thinking about instead and flushed prettily. She gathered up her coat and bag trying to calm herself a little.

It was gonna be a really long night…


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They began their patrol with the cemetery closest to the Magic Box, both unusually silent.
Spike assumed Buffy was potentially hostile and treated her with the care he would an atomic bomb. He found this particularly taxing as it competed with his almost overwhelming desire to touch her hair, taste her skin and strip her naked at the earliest possible moment. Then there was his nagging erection, which had shown no signs of going away in the past hour and a half. And with a night of watching Buffy fighting ahead of him, he knew it was here to stay for the foreseeable future. He sighed dramatically and lit up a smoke, the word “priapism” sauntering casually through his brain.

Buffy was keeping a steady distance from Spike, not trusting herself to act rationally given the increasingly naughty thoughts clouding her mind. She’d kept to one-word responses so far, discouraging any potentially sexy banter, or arousing arguments. Things were getting seriously screwy. Whatever her problem was, it was getting worse. It was all she could do to keep her hands from winding themselves in his hair, her mouth from crushing itself to his. She settled for jamming her fists deep into the pockets of her fitted corduroy jacket. Better to keep her hands on a stake anyway, right?

*Right.*

She agreed firmly. She knew what she wanted for herself and her life, and Riley was it. These ridiculous lusty feelings for Spike were just a by-product of her over-stressed, over-worked little brain. It all made perfect sense. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances. She gave herself a few extra feet of clearance from him just to be on the safe side.

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

Dammit, why was she so bloody far away? Was she still upset from the other night? He could hardly catch her scent from here, not enough to really enjoy it. Not like he wanted to, all up close and personal like. Of course if he had his way, he’d be smellin’ her from a vantage point somewhere between her legs. Spike grinned wickedly at the thought.

*Someday, someday…*

Hopefully sooner rather than later. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. If his knob got any harder he’d be able to stake the vamps hands-free. It was getting so it was faster to count the hours without an erection than the ones with. And whacking off only helped so much. He was fairly certain his body was on a tear; it wanted the real thing and the real thing only. He couldn’t say he blamed it, really.

Meanwhile this buggerin’ hard-on was getting damned uncomfortable. He hoped like hell that the fighting would help. That was always an efficient way to relieve tension. And it was the only option he had at the moment that wasn’t likely to get him staked. Given her current mood, he was positive his attentions would not be welcome to say the least. And he somehow didn’t think Buffy would be amused to find him tossing off behind the nearest tombstone either.

*Ah, if only she’d help a fella out a bit.*

He was struck by a sudden vision of her on her knees in front of him, wrapping her pretty, glossy mouth around the head of his cock. He had to stifle an involuntary moan and was suddenly glad she was twenty feet away at the moment. His prick throbbed painfully in the confinement of his jeans, and he tried casually to adjust it under the cloak of his duster. This was getting bloody ridiculous.

Eros couldn’t help being amused at the scene before him. He could see the pheromones in the very air, could feel the heat between them as a live and palpable thing. And their heartfires blazed like a nuclear furnace whenever they were near each other. It was blindingly beautiful. And also insanely frustrating. He had never seen a pair more desirous of one another. Yet here they were yards apart, stubbornly avoiding the very thing they each wanted most in the world; each other.

He was THISFAR from breaking out the arrows. He observed the pair scowling, thunder gathering on his usually clear brow. Evidently this was a much more complicated matter than he bargained for.

No matter. He was up for the challenge. The only question was,

What could possibly be done?


** Smut and violence next chapter (yay!)... :D Rosie**
 
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