SUMMER NIGHTS




CHAPTER TWO




“Missed you?” Buffy snorted. “Only with my stake. What are you doing here?”




“Oh, no need to thank me, Slayer. You know, for stopping Mr Clumsy from stomping on your head.”




“What? I just pulled him off you and broke his neck! You'd be dust if it wasn't for me – and don't think I'm not regretting that.”




Both of them were stiff with anger, neither giving ground as they faced off, foreheads almost touching. Spike was still vamped out, no way the demon was letting go in face of the Slayer's threat. Blood was running down his face but the cut was healing fast.




A rumble sounded in the background, the ground shaking beneath their feet. Buffy tilted her head to listen. “You hear that?”




“Uh huh. Not a fucking clue what it is, but I hear it.”




The ground shook even more, both of them turning towards the origin of the ever louder rumble. Buffy blanched; it was huge! An extremely large demon heading straight for them, almost double the size of the one she'd killed. And it looked pissed...




“Erm...Spike...”




“Yeah, Slayer. I see it. Must be this one's mum or something. Don't think we should be hanging about. Come on – my car's just by the trees.” He took off at a sprint, the demon melting away, not looking behind to see if she was following. It was her look out.




Buffy slid into the passenger seat just as Spike floored the pedal and the Desoto shot forward. "Thanks for waiting," Buffy snarled.




"No skin off my nose, Slayer. Thought you were supposed to have supernatural speed and such. Didn't see much evidence of it then."




"Gah! Just shut up. You can drop me at my dad's condo. It's not far; turn left here."




Spike drove, following her instructions, finally pulling up at the beach. He parked the car and switched off the engine. Buffy turned to open the door, shooting him a quick 'thanks' – her hand stilling on the door-catch as she realised what she was doing.




"Spike! Get out – get out now. You so need to get dusty. I mean, what is this? You really think I'm just going to get out of the car and let you go? You shouldn't have come here." A beat. "Why are you here?"




"Back off, Slayer. I didn't know you'd be lurking about. I'm looking for Dru, if you must know. Last bint I expected to see was little Miss Ice-in-my-Knickers. Hey!"




Buffy had slapped him hard, Spike growling at the contact. "Stop that! Look, we both know we're equally matched. Let's just forget we ran into each other and call it quits. I'm bruised and bloody and you've got a shiner coming on your right eye; that demon must've clocked you one during the tussle."




"What? What is that? A shiny what?"




"Shiner, love. Black eye? Purpling up nicely."




"No! Lemme look."




Buffy shuffled across the bench seat so that she could grab the rearview mirror to peer at her face. Her butt was half-perched on Spike's lap, the heat from her radiating to his groin. He looked in wonder at the bulge pressing at the fly of his jeans; what the fuck was happening? Warm Slayer ass had him hard and horny? He shuddered at the thought.




"Okay, Slayer. You're home. Be on your merry way and we'll say no more about it. Go. Get out. Summers, I mean it. Get out of my car."




Buffy's eyes were fixed on the mirror, round and staring.




"Uh oh."




"Uh oh? Uh oh, what?"




"Erm...you know that demon. The one that was very, very large and very, very angry?"




"Yeah..."




"It's about twenty feet away."




Spike turned in his seat, shifting Buffy sideways to headbutt the door.




"What? The fuck ugly one? Okay, I'm outta here! Buckle up."




Spike spun the wheels of the Desoto as he stuck it in reverse. The demon was getting larger in the mirror and Spike grabbed the handbrake and screeched it around, grabbing the steering wheel to drag the car around the lumbering figure of the biggest creature he'd ever seen.




Making an enemy of it was not good.




But that was what they'd done. Him and the Slayer. They'd fucked up good and proper. As he toed the accelerator to the floor, he mused on what it would take to see an end to the monster. More than it's offspring, obviously. And he'd hardly made a dent on it. Buffy had snapped its neck, but it had been distracted at the time. There was no way they'd be able to do the same to the mum.




Buffy struggled upright, smoothing down her hair and righting her clothes. "Where are we going?"




"Huh? Oh, away. Just away. Gotta hand it to you Slayer, you know how to get a demon interested."




"What? Oh...well." She frowned when she realised what he'd said, punching him in the arm. "Hey! I saved your hide! And look where it's gotten me. In a stinky car with no suspension, a deranged vampire in charge of the driving and a monocle of a monster on my tail."




"Monolith."




"Oh, that's right. Correct my speech. Don't worry about the fact that we're both dead meat."




"Both of us? I didn't kill it! Seem to recall you doing the neck-snapping, Slayer. I'm just an innocent bystander caught up in the mayhem."




"Right...'cause vampires as a whole are entirely innocent. D'ya think the mommy will see it like that?"




Spike huffed, but he didn't really have an answer. She was probably right. Bitch. Still, all he had to do was dump her out the car and head away into the sunrise, paying due notice to available shade, obviously.




Wouldn't find Dru that way, though, would he?




He pulled the car to a screeching halt. "Look, Summers – I think we've both got the same problem. We can either team up and get rid of it or we can snark away and piss each other off until the she-devil catches up with us."




Buffy hunkered up against the door with her arms crossed. "So; what do you suggest?"




"Well, don't know about you, love, but I need to get me some kip. It'll be light soon and my aching bones need some recovery time if we're to go up against the beast. Or we could just hightail it out of here..." He prayed she would stay and fight; he didn't want to admit he needed her help, but he couldn't do this alone and if the demon wasn't history, he'd have to leave Dru to her own devices.




"I can't go. That thing knows where I live – temporarily. My mom's coming into town on Monday – I can't leave it to get to her."




Spike sagged with relief. "Up to you, Slayer. I'm easy." He raised his eyebrow and shot her a full on head tilt with curled tongue to punctuate his double entendre. A vamp had a reputation to keep.




"You're a pig, Spike."




"Yeah, love. You'd better believe it."




+ + + +




The motel they'd found was basic. Very basic. A bedroom, a bathroom, a toilet. TV that worked if you thumped the set and fed it quarters. And just the one bed.




"You've got to be kidding me. You'll have to get another room."




"What? No way – I'm not shelling out hard cash just so you can keep your sorry virtue intact, Slayer. Course, I could just eat the desk clerk..."




"NO! No, that's alright...you take the floor and I'll..."




"Not on your life. It's my money that's paying for this palace; the bed's big enough for two even with your puppy fat. 's up to you, Slayer. I'm bedding down on this end. The floor or the bed; I don't care. But don't wake me up if you decide you want to share. And no stealing the covers."




Spike turned away from where she stood hugging herself while she thought things through. The floor was sticky with unknown substances, and the only cover that she could find was a threadbare towel. The bed, while not exactly a la mode, was sturdy enough it seemed, given the creaking springs that accompanied Spike getting comfy beneath the covers. And it was quite wide; she could probably shimmy beneath the covers on the other side without getting anywhere near his vampire body.




Oh hell; it had been a long day and she was dog-tired. She toed off her shoes and padded to the other side of the bed, drawing back the bedspread a little and sliding in, careful to ensure that there was ample space between her and the vampire. She looked over her shoulder at his apparently sleeping features; the angular planes of his face had softened as he'd snuggled into the pillow. He looked...edible.




/Oh god! I’m going straight to hell. Edible? Spike was...edible?/




Muttering under her breath, Buffy hunkered over onto her side, her back towards the front of the sleeping vampire, hands gripping the sheet close about her.




Spike opened his eyes and glanced at the Slayer's stiff form. Oh yeah; he was the big bad, just check out the freaked out slayer...




Both drifted off to sleep just as dawn hit the horizon.




+ + + +




A thumping at the door awoke them, Buffy blinking her eyes in the light that peeped through the ugly drapes.




"You wanna stay longer, you gotta pay for another night. Shoulda been outa here an hour ago."




Buffy struggled to form words, her body aching from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. Her legs felt heavy and she was having difficulty moving her arms.




"Yeah, yeah – alright, mate. We'll pay the dosh. Just bugger off!"




Buffy smiled and snuggled back down. She didn't have to get up yet. Delicious langour crept over her limbs as she backed up into the cool embrace of her bedmate and sighed with happiness. She felt so comfortable and relaxed, so at home where she was. Before the urgent thought that was pecking at her brain could fully form, she dozed off again, the smile fixed on her face.




Spike, however, was wide awake and terrified. Somehow in the night either he or the Slayer had tangled themselves up with the other and he now had his arm wrapped tight about her middle without an inch to spare between his front and her back, and their legs were interlocked. His cheek lay on her fragrant hair and her fingers were interlaced with his where his other arm was thrown across her.




He was in big trouble.




He couldn't move because it would wake her; but if he didn't move she'd kill him.




And to cap it all, he had the mother of all morning erections.




Buffy mumbled in her sleep and pushed her butt back into his groin, Spike whimpering as the added pressure had him swelling even more. He groaned into her hair, his grip on her waist tightening.




"Mmmm," Buffy muttered. Spike thought that this must be what hell was like. He was damned, even more than usual.




But hell sure felt good.




He tried to think of something that would take his mind off the warm and luscious woman held in his arms; but it didn't work. He couldn't get the smell of her, the feel of her, out of his head. Every meeting they'd ever had played out in full vibrant colour before his tightly closed eyes. Somehow, with her here asleep and vulnerable in his embrace, all the taunting they'd done, the barbed comments and the fights seemed like dancing. It was all leading to this moment.




Bugger. The sodding poet was trying to break through, and all because of some shared danger and an enforced night sharing a bed. The demon didn't like it, was urging him to rip out her throat and drain her dry. He gave in, moving to her neck – but instead of biting, he kissed her gently, moving strands of hair away so that he could kiss from below her ear along to her collarbone.




Buffy turned in his arms, her eyes still shut but her lids fluttering. Still deep in sleep, she threw her arms around his neck and slinked closer to him, her breasts squashing against his chest. Spike nudged her legs apart and gripped her hips, pulling her tight against him. As her groin slammed into his, Buffy's eyes shot open.




"Spike! What the hell are you doing?"




"Shhhh, Slayer. Kinda busy here...just let yourself feel. I can make it good, just let me show you."




Buffy was shoving on his shoulders, wriggling to get away: but she stopped. Truth be told, the cool lips on her neck that had woken her had felt good, had felt absolutely wonderful in fact. She was so close to giving in, but her mind screamed vampire!




Said vampire took advantage of her momentary lack of struggle to capture her lips, featherlight kisses that tingled across her nerve endings. Vampire kisses. Spike kisses. Oh so arousing kisses. She caved. Her tongue slid in between his lips, wrapping around his and taking him by surprise. The kisses were more urgent now, their hands moving over each other's body gripping and stroking, tearing at clothes. The buttons on Buffy's shirt popped off, the seams ripping with the force of Spike's eager attentions. She arched her back so that he could remove the remnants of the garment, Spike taking advantage of the postition to unclasp her bra.




Buffy's hands were also busy, tugging at the hem of Spike's tee and untucking it from his jeans. He helped her to drag it off over his head, both of them now naked from the waist up. Hardened nipples clashed as they renewed their efforts to be the dominant partner.




Still Buffy's mind screamed at her to stop, but her body was firmly in the driver’s seat and was heading straight for the highway. First stop, orgasm central. Just the taste of Spike's mouth, the feel of his firm hands moving her to where he wanted her, were enough to have her teetering on the edge, all her senses on overload. The only thing that would stop this would be a nuclear warhead, and even that would need to be a megaton one.




She sprung back from him, one hand flat on his chest, her fingers rubbing over his nipple, the other still gripping the curls at the nape of his neck. She was panting for breath, eyes wide and luminous as she stared at his face in shock. Was she really doing this? Spike lowered his eyelids, his coal-black lashes sweeping his cheeks as he pursed his lips. When he looked back up at her his eyes glinted with amusement – and something deliciously dark and exciting – his bottom lip now caught between white teeth. Buffy gasped as she felt cool fingers sweep across her bare abdomen and tug at the fastenings of her jeans, dipping below the waistband and tangling in her moist curls.




Definitely no going back now. This highway was one way only, no stopping.




Spike was pleasantly surprised to find Buffy shifting against the fingers he'd managed to get down the front of her knickers, arching towards him, seeking some stimulus to ease her obvious frustration. Who would've guessed that the Slayer was a hot bitch in the sack?




He would, that's who. Ever since the first night he'd seen her, he'd known he could dance all night with her. He'd just kept that little admission hidden, even from himself.




As she writhed, Buffy felt the heat of orgasm start to build; she was so turned on it was a wonder she wasn't on fire, and he hadn't even really touched her yet. His fingers stopped just short of her aching clit denying her the release she craved.




And then he parted her folds and slid two fingers along her slit and inside her. Instantaneous fireworks, explosions of pleasure, vocal appreciation – Buffy did the whole Hollywood scene and screamed Spike's name, sobbing as an encore. Spike gritted his teeth; man, she was tight. His fingers were squeezed in the vice-like grip of her pussy as she rode out her orgasm.




He had to get his cock inside her.




Impatiently, he rolled Buffy to her back, kneeling up and grabbing at her jeans and panties to drag them off. Buffy complied with his unspoken instructions, lifting her butt to help him get her naked. As he hovered above her she grabbed at his fly, tugging at the button and zipper in eager anticipation.




"Spike...?"




"You want something, Summers? You just gotta ask..."




Buffy blushed, looking almost virginal in her embarassment despite her state of undress and kiss-marked lips. Her eyes were fixed on his crotch where the zipper was slowly making its own way down as the pressure of his erection proved too much for mere metal to encage. She licked her lips unconsciously, the zipper now rolling all the way down to show him in all his glory. Her eyes widened...was that size even possible?




"Like what you see, Slayer?"




Buffy nodded, her brain kicking in to control her head before the shame circuits could ignite. Oh yes, she liked. She liked a whole lot. Powerless to stop herself, she watched as her hand snaked out and slowly encircled his girth. He felt like velvet wrapped steel; she moved her hand up and down slowly, grinning to herself as he moaned deep and low in his throat. She had done that, made him keen like an animal. The sexual power was intoxicating.




Spike wriggled his way out of the jeans, sliding down the bed to do so, finding himself laying with his head between the Slayer's legs. And damn – the scent of her was making him drool. Warm and spicy, that unique Slayer musk that always told a vampire when one was near. He'd smelled it twice before; once in China and once in New York – but never like this. Buffy Summers was unique. He was in danger of becoming addicted to her.




Of course, once they'd slaughtered the mummy demon and he'd hooked back up with Dru he'd kill his craving once and for all by offing his third Slayer. Maybe offer her up to Dru as a reunion gift. That'd be fitting, make up for the fact that right now he was going to lick the Slayer senseless then fuck her half to death.




When Buffy murmured his name in a husky whisper, somehow he didn't think it would be quite that simple.




TBC