PART FOUR

 

 

Hot.

 

So…hot.

 

Guttural moans and grunts rasp inside my ear. Each low note emphasized with a sharp deep thrust of his hips against mine.  Every sound and each stroke turns me hotter, burning my body with a tempestuous excitement that was spiraling out of control. I couldn’t wait for it. I wanted to lose control.  I wanted so bad to spin out of my body with numb racking pleasure that I become impatient.

 

I bite his shoulder, my teeth sink into his flesh with no thought as to what I’m doing or how animalistic my actions are. I draw blood; the cooper tangy taste ignites my taste buds with a deep primal need that has never stroked my senses before.  They’re powerful and controlling, dominating my every thought and action.  I can think of nothing else but this frenzied thirst that is in every pore of me, every inch of my soul…driving me to do the unthinkable.  It’s a feeling as old as time, a feeling that I’ve never known before except here – in my dreams…in the arms of a man who I do not know.

 

He gyrates against me, protesting my demanding actions by banging me harder. His grunts are louder, harsher, unhindered roars of an excitement that has matured with blinding strength, becoming dangerously alive. It’s raw…sizzling with as much need as I feel in every tingle of my skin. 

 

He slaps my thigh with no mercy. I jump, my pulse quickens and my blood turns to molten fire as it pumps through my veins.  His heavy smack ignites my arousal to a fevered pitch and I growl at him. But my teeth do not relent and my mouth still sucks on his flesh as I continue to feast on his essence.

 

His shoulders become tenser and though I cannot see his face, I sense its cruel beauty staring at me with a profound passion that has him questioning everything that he’s feeling.  Those questions alter his mood. His smooth fluid strokes suddenly change to powerful impacts of a pissed off male.  His palm lands a heavy blow on my thigh once more. Its stinging slap is sharp…painful and angry…punishing me.

 

But I don’t care.

 

On a scream of luscious agony my mouth releases his flesh. He grunts again, this time in approval, but his thrusts do not change.  They are vigorous, demanding, taking…branding me.

 

And I love it.

 

I don’t want it to stop. I want this and I want it from him. 

 

God, he feels so good, his body moving so thoroughly, so resplendently inside of mine. It’s perfect.  He roughly talks to me, telling me how he’s going to take me until I scream his name, how he won’t stop until my body comes for him so hard that there’s nothing left to give him. 

 

Hearing those impassioned words strikes a chord in me and for the first time in all of my time spent with my dream lover I finally see, I finally feel the truth of my need.  It had remained hidden until now, silently lurking beneath my lustful desires and needs, but it grows stronger with every velvet stroke of his hard shaft. And I know right then as he once more pivots against me, striking my womb, that it’s heavy fervent has been building since the first night he came to me in a haze of fog. 

 

Accepting it seems easy now…inescapable, and without fear or anxiety it becomes truth to me. It becomes the air that I need to breath, the steady ground my feet need to walk on.  It becomes my sole purpose for everything.

 

Balance.

 

I want him to feel every thing that I am feeling. I want him to experience the same pain and joy that I feel when he touches me. I want him to suffer the same breathlessness that I endure when his eyes touch me, or to feel the uncontrollable beating of his heart in his chest just from hearing his name off my lips.  I need to know that when he takes my body that he’s taking more then just flesh and muscle. That he’s taking my heart and my soul, treasuring it and honoring all that I’m giving him.  To truly know that what we share is not just a frolicsome act of lust, but a powerful expression of deeper feelings and emotions.

 

I need him…to love me.

 

I see that now, as his hands cradle my hips and he drives forward once again. It’s a binding affection that burns so deep and bright that it makes me feel and think of nothing but him, of giving myself to him wholeheartedly. And I need all of that in return.

 

I need…balance.

 

I want him to love me.  I want him to need me as much as I need him.

 

I want it all.

 

That ravenous wanting erupts something dark and hungry inside of me, a tenacity to not stand idly by and watch him take everything away from me…to deny what’s in his soul, in his blood…me.

 

Not anymore.

 

Expertly he continues to drive himself deeper inside of me and still giving me the most intense sexual pleasure. He’s so meticulous, so focused and lost in his rapid movements of blinding thrusts and perfectly measured glides that he doesn’t know what’s coming. He does not know the full power of a woman that knows what she wants. A woman that is not afraid to take it.  But I’m going to show him.

 

On a cry of resolution, strength enters my deadening body and I flip our positions shocking him. His back slams against the cold stone; a cry of pain escapes his mouth as I quickly take him back inside of me. As my mouth greedily mauls his, my lips and tongue tell him everything I want.

 

I ride him hard and fast…branding him as he branded me.  Soaking him for everything he has.  Taking him deep inside of me…giving him everything I feel for him and never letting go.  Mercilessly I squeeze the width of him and I’m rewarded with another scream of hot angry rumbles and another hard smack to my ass. That strong big handprint embeds itself in my skin, I can feel my flesh turning red, and I laugh with pure contentment and brutal honesty of just how much I like it.

 

But my twisted humor only seems to enrage him again and he quickly turns the tables on me, throwing me around and on to the floor. He grabs my hips, pulls all the way out and then viciously slams back inside.  In a voice hidden in shadows though still comprehendible, he rasps into my ear, fierce and coarse…savagely.

 

“You want to play rough? I’ll give you rough. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week!”

 

My smile fades, tears come to my eyes, and the only sound that is now coming out of my mouth are shouts of blissful distress as I feel him spreading my insides, going deeper than he’s ever gone before. 

 

With his fist in my hair he yanks my head up as his lips slam against my own, taking...plundering…with no remorse, without even conscious thought.  He’s simply acting on the raging emotions that I brought out in him.

 

I smile once again because I know that he is feeling the same thing I’m feeling. He just doesn’t know it yet and even if he did he can’t accept it for what it is. That is what creates the anger. That’s what drives his brutal taking of my body.

 

I don’t care though, I love this.

 

I love him.

 

Suddenly the fog lifts, what once was cloudy is now as clear as day. I look up and into a wild sea of dark chocolate eyes that stare back with unrelenting ownership. They’re on a face that is at last visible, and the name that spills from his lips is a name that I’ve known, a name that has never been veiled…

 

“Milsean.”

 

The haunting Gaelic and the beautiful possessing mouth it rolled out of snapped her awake.

 

She sat up in bed gripping the sheets, her heart racing a mile a minute, she felt like her eyes were going to pop right out of her head.  She stared at the wall, the dream now as vibrant as the beautiful painting that hung on the wall before her.

 

“Oh – my – God!”

 

Her mouth dropped open, her gaze swung to the window and to the house across the street. As if in slow motion her hand rose and covered her mouth in dawning unwanted surprise.

 

It’s Angelus! My mystery dream lover is Angelus!

 

She took a deep breath, her body still tight with lust and yearning but this time it was her mind that demanded her attention, not her unsated body.

 

How could I have been so stupid?

 

Unconsciously or rather deliberately, she slapped herself in the head. It was all there for her to see and it always had been she just never really looked. 

 

She did now and without any effort at all. The truth cold-cocked her right in the head and couldn’t be ignored anymore. All those similarities that she had felt before made perfect sense now. Every kiss and touch that she received from him, hell every time he sheathed himself inside of her, had felt like she had known that intense pleasure before and from him.  Her body knew him but she hadn’t wanted to see it. She didn’t want to admit that she had fallen in love with him already.

 

Damn it!

 

She thought she had to fight it but it was too late for her. She had already fallen.

 

Shit! When exactly did that happen?

 

Her face crinkled as she thought back over the years, searching for a sign of when that love had blossomed from friend to something more, but she couldn’t pin point it. It wasn’t like they met and BANG she fell in love. It had grown – fiercely yet slowly at the same time, like…

 

Quicksand.

 

Love had been a sneaky adversary, cunningly sucking her into its world of ecstasy and fulfillment and inevitably…pain and loss. She had unwittingly stepped right into it with both feet only to be drawn deeper into its gritty grip of blackness and now she was stuck. Heart, body and soul.

 

A part of her must have known though; you know that part deep inside of you that defends your heart from getting hurt even when you don’t realize it. It makes you do things to protect yourself that you don’t even know you’re doing or why you’re even doing it. For her, it made her blind to what was in her very heart.  All this time, she had been blissfully living in denial and she hadn’t even known it.

 

The ironic thing was that her love would not let her deny it. It needed to be expressed and it found a way around her natural defenses by coming to her in the form of the dreams. Tormenting her for months at a time, little by little forcing her to see what she felt. She suspected that their night together was the catalyst. Finally having what her heart and body always wanted catapulted her true feelings into explicit clarity.

 

A short barmy burst of laughter let loose from her lips, she couldn’t help it. How disgustingly Freudian was that?

 

I could be in a psychology book for God’s sake! I’m the standard example of a woman in denial.

 

Well she couldn’t deny it any longer the only question was what she was going to do about it. Did she continue to fight what she felt? Or did she suck up her pride and take a chance on him.

 

If she were to believe in the dreams, then she would say take the chance. But really what were dreams but a creation of something that you wanted?  They were not reality.  Angelus McBain was all about reality and in his reality, love did not exist.  Lust – yes. Passion - absolutely.  Perhaps he even had a sense of warmth for the person that ignited that passion. But love? No. She would indeed be a fool to think for even one minute that he felt anything for her besides lust.

 

Well that made up her mind.  Her body rose from the bed easier then she thought it would. But she guessed it was because learning all of this changed nothing and in fact only strengthened her resolve. She was better off keeping him at a distance.

 

Yeah right, girl you can’t even keep him out of your pants!

 

It was true; she had no self control when it came to him.  Last night proved that.  One touch from him had completely erased any thoughts of saying no. 

 

Disheartened and sighing deeply she dressed for work. Maybe knowing the truth was the stronghold she needed.  Maybe, just maybe, she could stand her ground and stay away from the man with whom she was in love.

 

 

****************

 

 

By the time she got to work her heart and her head were in agreement with each other…solidly. She felt confident that she could and would walk away from this mess without any mental scares. 

 

It was simple really, all she had to do was keep in mind what she already knew - Angelus was emotionally unavailable.

 

She couldn’t look at this from a love perspective; she had to view it like she did the guys at the bar; with a cold calculating eye.  She had to look and ponder the negatives and stop thinking about the positives.  Eventually, the longer she did that and the more that he proved her right – which was bound to happen considering the man couldn’t go a day without getting laid – the easier it would become.

 

She would beat this unwanted ailment and she would find someone that was as emotionally in touch with his feelings as she was.  Someone like…Perry?

 

Umm…Perry could be that guy.

 

She smiled, tonight she would find out for sure. 

 

As the day went by, rather quickly actually, she found herself getting more and more exited about tonight’s date. Yes, she did have a slight feeling that she was betraying her heart and of course there was the never-ending feeling of stupidity - like she’d really be able to kick something as powerful as falling in love like a bad cold -  but she ignored them both just like she had successfully avoided Angelus all day.  Thank God!

 

Now it was late in the afternoon and she found herself somewhere she really didn’t want to be…the men’s locker room.  She was down here early in the morning before the team met for practice to sit with the coach and discuss the upcoming schedule. In her haste to get out of there before the players arrived, or rather one player in particular, she’d left her notes on the coach’s desk and she was now left with no choice but to retrieve them.

 

She figured it was safe, practice had ended an hour ago and the guys were pretty rushed to get out and do whatever hockey players did when they weren’t playing hockey, so odds were it would be empty. Still she felt nervous as she hurriedly walked in.   She had to walk through the whole freaking room to get to the coach’s office, so she did quickly; looking down each aisle as she walked and making sure it was empty.  Finally making it to the coach’s office, she smiled, feeling foolish once again.  The place was empty as empty could be.

 

Get a grip Buffy, what the hell are you so nervous about?

 

The answer to that question was right around the corner.

 

Angelus stood at the sink with a towel wrapped around him, just finishing combing his hair. After practice he soaked for a bit in the spa and then he took a long hot shower. He was more tired then usual and he bucked it up to the fact that sleep had not been his friend lately. Not that it ever was but he usually got at least a few hours in every night, but even those few hours had eluded him in the past three days.  That wasn’t the only thing that eluded him; he hadn’t had a good satisfying romp in three days either.  Two things that would drive any man to drink.

 

It seemed with every day that went by things just got more confusing for him. Things that normally made sense were now cluster fucked with uncertainty and they were just getting worse.

 

Yesterday morning everything started to make sense, yeah he was ticked off but he still had a solid plan; girl avoiding guy - guy go after girl – guy get girl - seduction…plain and simple. Something he had done and succeeded in a million times before. It was his bread and butter! But not last night. No, last night Buffy did something completely unexpected, something that he never thought was possible. The object of his seduction had actually denied him!  Him!  The master had been derailed by a petite blonde.

 

No matter how many times he thought about it, no matter how many times he went over every single thing he did – like, did I go to fast or did I not go fast enough – nothing made sense!  And the most baffling thing of all was that he knew she wanted him.  He had felt her arousal, fuck he’d smelt it, yet still she denied him.

 

Why? 

 

That was the question that he didn’t have an answer for. Well that and why she was going out with prick faced Perry tonight. He still had no answer for that either.  

 

What did Perry have that I didn’t?

 

Holy fuck am I seriously doubting my own worth as a man and a lover?

 

He frowned as he looked back at him self in the mirror. Hell no. He was hot. He knew it and every lover he’d ever had knew it, and told him…lots of times.  No, it wasn’t him. The answer had to lie with Perry.

 

He searched his mind and recollected the other man.  Perry was pretty tall. He was probably only about an inch shorter then him. He had short brown hair that seemed to be shiny and healthy, albeit a little thin.

 

Probably be bald in a year or two….

 

If he remembered correctly he had brown eyes too. He scowled - brown squinty eyes - they were the eyes of someone you couldn’t trust, shifty and calculating.

 

He took a step back and looked down at his physique what he saw made him proud; broad shoulders and all muscles. It had taken him years of hard work and commitment to get this rock hard body, a body that would make him victorious on the ice and in the bedroom. What did Perry have?   Nothing compared to him. Perry might have the height but he didn’t have the muscle. He was fit but in a slender pansy-ass way not the rough and tumble way, he didn’t have a man’s body.

 

Probably played tennis in college.

 

All of a sudden he got disgusted with himself. 

 

What the hell am I doing?

 

He never in his life questioned his appeal to women it was just always there and he knew that. But Buffy’s flat out refusal to have sex with him made him question everything and he was really starting to lose it.

 

Grabbing his toiletry bag he headed back to his locker. He had to get down to some serious business now and he would start tonight when she was on her…

 

Hold up? What’s that smell?

 

He stopped walking, his body tense and alert, listening for any sign that there was someone else down there besides him. He took a big whiff, his eyes automatically closing the second his body registered exactly what that smell was…Buffy’s perfume. He’d recognize it a mile away.

 

His feet padded to the edge of the wall and then he peaked around the corner. He didn’t see her but it was definitely her. No other woman wore that scent, at least no other woman that came down to the Kings locker room.

 

He heard a muffled ‘shit’ and then he took another look, his eyes peering into the shadows at the end of the hallway. The light turned on in the coach’s office and there she was, bending over and picking something off the floor. He grinned. It seemed he had a knack of always catching her in his favorite position.

 

Lucky me…

 

She stood then turned around, heading out of the office. He plastered him self back up against the wall and waited.  No time like now to re-start that seduction.

 

He heard her heals clicking against the tile floor and with each click that drew nearer his adrenaline pumped faster and his dick got harder.

 

Buffy walked back down the hall a bit more at ease now then before. She’d collected her notes, after dropping them on the floor like an idiot, and now happily walked back trying to decide what she should wear tonight.

 

Just as she passed him Angelus reached out and grabbed her by the waist. Swinging her around, he hauled her up against the damp tile wall of the bathroom.  She squealed with fear the second his hands touched her body but the moment her back hit the clammy wall and she looked up into his familiar brown eyes she relaxed…then she frowned at him.

 

“Jesus Angelus, you scared the shit out of me.”

 

She slapped him on the chest – a very wet and naked chest, oh crap he’s got that look in his eye – she swallowed, her hands pushing against his rock hard chest but he only smiled at her.  His hands spanned her waist holding her back against the wall as he took a step closer. She wasn’t going anywhere.

 

 “Wh…what are you still doing here?”

 

The confident grin on his face excited her and annoyed her at the same time because it was a bit too overconfident for her state of mind. Still while that was unnerving all on it’s own it was his eyes that held her attention the most…they were lock, stock and barrel predatory, and like the weak-minded woman in love that she was, her body instantly responded to it.  

 

She felt the first dangerous stirrings of desire lick at her skin and she desperately wanted to stop touching him but her hands were utterly happy to stay right where they were.

 

Traitors

 

“You left early this morning, I came over for breakfast but you were gone.”

 

Shit, he’s using the deep husky I’m-going-to-seduce-you voice…shit…got to get away!

 

She willed her hands to shove him away but instead her fingers only curled against his skin, her nails slightly raking him, causing his eyes to darken more.

 

TURNCOATS!

 

“I had an early meeting.”

 

“I went up to see if you wanted to get some lunch but you’d already left?”

 

“I had an appointment.”

 

Sort of…

 

She saw her doctor, which really wasn’t an appointment but still…thinking about it now was a very bad idea, because it only created endless possibilities in her mind, possibilities which she was supposed to be avoiding.

 

He moved in closer and his voice lowered another octave, sending more excited tingles of happiness down her spine. 

 

“Are you trying to avoid me?”

 

YES!

 

She half laughed, “Avoid you? Why would I avoid you?”

 

His eyes crinkled with growing annoyance as she tried to waylay his questions. “Because of last night…” His hands tightened around her waist and her breath hitched. “You ran out so fast before we could talk about it.”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

 

“I think there is.”

 

“Well there’s not. Now will you please step aside, I have to go.”

 

Finally her hands worked and she pushed against him. Not like she could move a wall of steel on her own but she had to try. 

 

He didn’t move. Well at least not backwards and in the direction she wanted him to move. He moved forward and she pressed herself back against the wall.

 

“Why are you running away Buff?”

 

All the reasons why shouted off in her head but she kept them to herself. A part of her wanted to be honest with him but she knew in this particular case honesty would get her nothing. So she sighed, her voice sounding completely miserable. “Because it can’t happen again, that’s why.”

 

“Why not? I thought we talked about this. We’re just two adults enjoying each other’s company, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

“You’re right there’s nothing wrong with it, except when we’re the two people.”

 

His eyes darkened with befuddled anger as his fingers clenched further into her sides. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that.”

 

“Angelus we’re friends. Friends shouldn’t sleep with each other, it only complicates things.”

 

Yeah, like me falling head over heals in love and you not giving a shit.

 

“I disagree. I think we proved that it doesn’t have to complicate things at all.”

 

God he was so stubborn!  Why couldn’t he just let it go?

 

“Why can’t you just accept that it’s not going to happen again? It’s not like there aren’t twenty million other women out there that would be more than happy to satisfy your…urges.”

 

Nice visual Buffy…can you say…puke!

 

He smiled and took that final step toward her.  With his chest right up against hers she truly was trapped.

 

He looked into her eyes and something he saw in them knocked on his heart with a heavy hand.  One hand left her waist and rose to her head, picking up a strand of hair he started to play with it. When he spoke his voice was gentler.  “What are you afraid of?”

 

Oh God, now it’s the I care about you voice, the one that pulled at her heart strings, the one that made her want to open her mouth and speak what was in her heart. But she couldn’t do that. He’d laugh at her and then she would be mortified. She held back the tears that wanted to form and looked right back at him with as much cold-hearted gusto she could find.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Of course he didn’t heed her answer and instead started the twenty questions game he loved so much.

 

“Are you afraid our friends will find out?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you afraid someone here at work will find out?”

 

“No.” She was getting really exasperated now and her voice told him. “I’m not afraid of anything I just think it’s a bad idea that’s all.”

 

His carnal smile was hot as he pushed his hips against her. She inhaled sharply, her eyes closed on their own, the lower half of her body instinctively pushed back and she cursed under her breath.

 

“Milsean, when sex is as good as it is when we do it, it’s never a bad idea.”

 

He leaned down to her neck and inhaled, bringing that sultry perfume into his nostrils and setting his body on fire even more. He rolled his hips against her, smiling into the crook of her neck as she instinctively moved with him.

 

“The only bad idea is not doing it again…and again…and again...”

 

God he felt so good and she wanted to give in, she wanted to once more take the man that she loved inside of her, but it was an action that would have miserable consequences, for her anyway.  

 

While her thoughts were in the right place and her mind had the strength to resist her body did not. Her hands found their way around his chest and to his back, where they flexed greedily against his shoulder blades, and her mouth, well that just didn’t want to cooperate either.

 

“Angelus, stop…you’re getting me wet.”

 

What?

 

“I can’t believe I just said that.”

 

He chuckled at her husky comment as his mouth continued to kiss her neck.

 

Rolling her eyes and frowning, she slapped him on the shoulder. “Stop laughing. It’s not funny. You know what I meant.”

 

He knew what she meant, that her blouse and skirt were getting wet from the damp wall and his still damp body, but of course in the positions that they were currently in it had all the implications of something else getting wet. Something he wanted wet. He rolled his hips against her again stressing to her just how much he wanted her wet.

 

“Well that is my intent Milsean. Now let’s see if I can get you wetter.”

 

His mouth opened and he glided his lips up and down her neck. His tongue left a wet trail as he moved and her head listlessly lolled to the side giving him better access. All the while his hips continued to rotate and press against her, stimulating her senses and creating in her head the very real image of him moving inside of her.  Her pulse leapt wildly, her hands caressed his naked skin as she slowly started to get lost in that image…in him.

 

“Mmm…yes…yes you can.”

 

His warm appreciative snigger told her that she’d slipped again.

 

“Damn it, and the stupid just keeps coming.”

 

She was annoyed with herself yet she didn’t try to push him away anymore.   It was too late for that now.

 

“Not stupid, just honest.” He answered her.

 

Her lower body continued to move in rhythm with his, and when he blew in her ear and his hand squeezed her breast through her blouse, she arched against him pushing them further into his palm.

 

The intuitively bold movements of her body against his and the low breathy pants that were filling his ears told him everything that he needed to know. 

 

She wouldn’t fight him anymore.

 

He touched her waist again with both hands and then glided down her thighs. Touching skin he groaned as he moved up her smooth leg and under her skirt to his point of interest. When he touched silken panties, his fingers slid under their smooth seamless edge and expertly eased them down.

 

“I love that you don’t wear stockings.” He panted in her ear as he bent her leg up and his deft fingers slide her panties down and off the raised limb. Placing her leg up on his waist the forgotten satin material slid down her other leg and landed on the floor. Now open to his eager probing fingers, he quickly found her heat then rolled the pad of his forefinger across her clit.

 

“Oh…”

 

As a moan of pleasure escaped her lips her body surged from his delicate almost non-existent touch. Her leg tightened around his waist and her fingers dug into his back as he continued his husky pillow talk.

 

“I love that I can just reach under your skirt and touch you…feel your soft slick folds with my hands.”

 

Did he know how she turned to mush the moment he opened his mouth?

 

Did he know how her body got hot and heavy when he rasped in her ear like that? 

 

As his finger glided up and down her wet slit and he moaned against her skin, she knew that he did. 

 

“Milsean, you are wet. So beautifully wet.  I’m going to come inside you and fill you up with pleasure.” 

 

His hands suddenly grabbed her arms and pulled them forward. Taking her wrists in his grip he held them above her head, holding her prisoner for his lusty advances. He started to gyrate against her harder and with much more accuracy. His hard cock, covered only by a flimsy towel hit her clit and she shivered with lust as he kept talking…kept telling her how he was going to fuck her slow and steady until she begged him to fuck her harder and faster. His voice was rough and commanding, steadily rasping in her ear. His mouth was hot and wet against her fevered skin as his hips slammed his hardness against her.  She was totally ensnared except now she didn’t want to escape.

 

When he touched her like this, when he held her so firmly and spoke to her that way, it made her feel like she was the only woman in his life, like she actually meant something to him. It opened her heart and stomped down any resistance she had – which weren’t many at this point. In her horny state of mind all she wanted was to have him inside of her. To be with the man she loved and she gave into it.

 

She leaned down and gently took his earlobe in between her teeth, when she spoke her words were hoarse and demanding…final. Now that she’d relented she wanted him to fuck her she didn’t want to be teased any more.  Her inner siren came to the surface and before he knew what hit him she took control of their little sex-fest.

 

“You feel how wet I am…”

 

She fought his grip and got one hand lose, sliding it down the side of his body, raking her nails against his skin, she met cotton towel and ripped it off dropping it the floor. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, held him at her entrance and then pushed down completely embedding him inside of her.

 

“Now shut up and fuck me.”

 

He groaned with ecstasy as he felt her inner walls surround him, taking him in so effortlessly.

 

Her commanding husky voice in his ear and the incredible pressure of her hot honeyed walls squeezing his manhood made him completely daft and totally incoherent. So instead of saying something clever back to her he used his mouth for better things, he swooped down and smashed it against hers.

 

Just like that, everything disappeared besides them and the incredible friction that was created when his body rocked into hers. As he grabbed her waist she gripped his shoulders, together they lifted her up and she wrapped both legs around his waist as he started to pound inside of her, skipping over the slow and steady part and jumping right into the hard and hurried strokes of a man who felt like he hadn’t had sex in over a month. 

 

Buffy’s contented smile was plastered on her face as her body shook and then rolled into her first orgasm.  She would regret her actions later but now as his velvety hard flesh drove inside of her over and over again the only action she could think about was encouraging him more.

 

“Yes, Angelus…harder…HARDER!”

 

Her words fueled him on, he was too fucking excited, and if he didn’t get her to shut up he was going to spill too soon.

 

“Fuck! Buffy shut up or I’m going to come.”

 

But she just smiled evilly. Last night’s dream invaded her mind, the strong need to make him feel everything that she was feeling took control. With utter candor and barefaced sauciness she ignored his harshly spoken command and instead taunted him more.  He had made her control snap now it was his turn.

 

Grabbing a fistful of his hair she yanked his ear down to her mouth. She hid nothing from him as she spoke, lust – desire – yearning – even love, spilled from her lips in a rush of hot urgent words, though the later was completely overlooked in the heat of the moment.

 

“I love this. I love you fucking me. I love the feeling of your big hard cock taking me so hard and so fast that I feel like I’m going to split.”

 

With every word she said, the seducer became the seduced. His strokes became faster, his accuracy became sloppier, and his pants became louder and harsher. 

 

“Shut up or it’s going to be over real…fast.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

 

She ruthlessly laughed at him as her legs squeezed his waist and her pussy clenched around his cock, her words squeezing the orgasm right out of him.  

 

“I love your cock. I love the way it fits inside of me, I love the way you fuck me. I love it! I love y…”

 

“Fuck! I’m going to come!”

 

Her last word was cut off by the shout of his rapturous decree. She felt herself explode with an unbelievable orgasm just as he pulled out and rode out the wave of his release against her belly.

 

Her eyes closed as she took deep breaths, steadying her heart, her hands absentmindedly caressing his damp back.  It was the best damn orgasm she’d had since…well, Saturday night; still, it didn’t wash away the horror of what she almost said.

 

See this is the danger of having sex with him!  This is why I have to stay away!

 

Relax Buffy, he was in the middle of an orgasm, there’s no way he heard you.

 

“What did you say?”

 

Though the aftermath of Angelus’ release was incredibly intoxicating it did not cloud his mind to that last syllable that left her lips nor the sudden sense of elated hope that filled him.  So when his body finally stopped moving, and his heart rate returned to normal, he looked into her eyes expectantly waiting for her answer.

 

Shit, did nothing escape this man?

 

A veil dropped over her green orbs and she lowered her legs to the floor.  “Nothing.”

 

She pushed against him but he didn’t move. Instead he grabbed her chin forcing her gaze back to his when she tried to look away.

 

“No. You were going to say something. What was it?”

 

He didn’t know why he persisted but something was nagging him. He had the strangest sensation like he was standing on a cliff waiting for the sun to rise and warm his empty soul with its sunlit rays. It was so arresting that he couldn’t let her go until he heard her answer.

 

Of course, the more he persisted the angrier Buffy got, with herself.

 

Fool…fool…fool!

 

She twisted her head out of his grasp then pushed him again, this time he finally took a step back but his hands remained on the wall still trapping her.  His gaze was so intent that it was seriously freaking her out. Before he could make his next move she ducked under his arms, and before he could catch her again, she walked to the side putting space between them.

 

His eyes remained steady on her face showing his displeasure with her maneuver.

 

She swallowed down the fear that got stuck in her throat. Fear that she would break down and reveal everything to those intent and purposeful eyes.  She looked away from him and down at her favorite silk blouse, and at his release that was soaking into the delicate material, she scowled.

 

“Damn it, this is my favorite blouse.”

 

Mumbling, she leaned down and put her panties back on, then briskly turned and started to walk away from him.  But there was no way in hell he was letting her walk away from him again.  He took two steps and reached out, grabbing her arm and halting her steps. Her frantic eyes immediately swung to his relentless orbs.

 

“I’ll fucking buy you a new one.”

 

With his patience almost gone and the sun that he so badly wanted to feel descending behind that mental cliff he gruffly shouted at her. “Now tell me, what you were going to say?”

 

Buffy just snapped right back.  “I wasn’t going to say anything, Jesus.”  Her eyes turned to slits of warning, “Let go of me, I have to go.” 

 

Of course he didn’t.  It was a game of wills and he was determined that his would win out. He kept a firm hold on her arm as he walked right up to her and commandingly pressed his naked body against her. 

 

The second her body contacted his, arousal slammed inside of them.

 

Buffy’s breath hitched and hearing it, seeing her eyes dilute and soften, made him stop and rethink what he was doing.

 

They could go on like this for hours; fighting each other for control, him trying to impose his will over hers and vice versa, but they would get nowhere. He would never get the answer he sought this way.  She liked to argue and she was too damn good at it. No, he had to switch tactics and be the manipulative bastard that he could be.

 

His hands relaxed their grip and started to move up and down her arm, softly and gently. He leaned down and looked at her deeply.

 

Buffy couldn’t look away even though she desperately wanted too. It was like those eyes had a mental hold on her, keeping her right where she was. They were a beautiful shade of warm chocolate that just oozed all over her body completely immobilizing her. She found it extremely insufferable with how easily she fell into his web of seduction. Well, she snorted to herself, she might not be able to move her legs but she could damn well brace herself for what she knew was coming next.

 

She stilled. She stomped down the desire that pooled in her panties the second she saw the switch and she braced herself against the voice that she knew would speak next…the sultry and hypnotizing sound of the devil incarnate.

 

“Buffy, I want to talk to you.  Let’s go out tonight.”

 

She expected the sex laced voice to make her panties drip with want but she wasn’t expecting the words that it spoke.  She felt shell-shocked. She felt like a drag racing car waiting for the green light to go; her engines revving with anticipation and her foot itching to slam down on that gas pedal.

 

“What? Out? What do you mean out? Like a…date.”

 

He scowled, a date? 

 

The urge to smile and nod his head yes while he vomited was hard to resist, but he did.  He didn’t date women.  He took women out and seduced them, there was no dating – shiver – involved.

 

His hand dropped and he stood up, shrugging off the nausea.

 

“No. Just two friends having dinner.”

 

Christ even that statement wanted to make me puke.

 

The hope that leapt into her the moment he asked dissipated just as quickly as his curt answer was given.

 

She turned away. What the hell was a matter with her? Did she really think that he was actually asking her out? Yeah right.

 

“Friends, dinner…right.  Sorry but no…I have plans. Maybe we can get together some other time. I got to go, see you.”

 

Her reply was brisk and she didn’t wait for his reaction as she stalked out of the locker room.

 

It was a good thing because if she’d caught a glimpse of his dark foreboding expression she would have re-thought her answer, rethought her…plans.

 

Angelus watched her walk away from him again with a malevolent smile.

 

Oh, she has plans…yeah, well so do I sweetheart.

 

 

****************

 

 

Ten…was the number of times that his finger stroked her bare shoulder.

 

Ten…was the number of times that finger slid a bit lower down her bare back with every stroke it stole.

 

Ten…was the number of times that she’d held back the shiver of nervousness that each touch created.

 

Ten…was the number of times that she’d looked up at the clock to see what time it was.

 

Ten…was the number of times that she’d been disappointed to see that it had only been thirty minutes since she met Perry at the Polo Lounge and not ten hours, which is what it felt like.

 

She was really starting to hate that number.

 

“I’m really glad that we’re finally getting together Buffy. I’ve been waiting for this night for a long time.” 

 

Perry smiled at her and she smiled back.  She had nothing else to say, it’s not like she was going to tell him the same thing, and she couldn’t tell him how disappointed she was to find out – and in the first five minutes of their date – just how unsuitable they were.

 

“You look…” His eyes covetously looked down her body, landing on her bare legs, and annoyingly staying there. “…incredible tonight.”

 

If he keeps sneaking peeks like that I’m going to sneak my fist in his face. 

 

Relax Buffy, play nice.

 

She totally regretted wearing the black and white halter dress. It was one of her skimpiest outfits. It came down to her knees and it had a slit that went all the way up her thigh. It had a deep plunging neckline, and since it was a halter dress, her back was completely bare, the dress dipping low right to the top of her butt. It was daring and audacious and she felt completely wicked wearing it.

 

At the time putting the slinky dress on seemed like a good idea. She had been completely fed-up with her total lack of control earlier. Not to mention how that lack of control almost made her slip up and say something that she really should not say. God, it had been a complete mess!  But the worst part was that she knew, in the very depths of her soul, that she would do it again. 

 

She was beginning to realize that staying away from the man she was in love with was a lot more complicated than she thought it would be, especially if he wouldn’t stay away.  That really irked her.  Why wasn’t he? He had her, so why wasn’t he moving on to the next girl? 

 

She didn’t have any answers but for one insane moment she had the most asinine thought ever. Maybe staying away would be easier if she slept with someone else – get him out of her system so to speak. Perry was a good looking guy. She was back on birth control. So she figured why not?  She’d wear her sexiest dress - a beautifully sardonic thought considering it was Angelus himself that bought her the dress - and reel him. 

 

“I feel so honored to have such a beautiful woman sitting with me. I’m the envy of every man in the room.”

 

And so he keeps telling me since the first moment we met… 

 

Like every other woman Buffy loved to get complimented but when it kept coming at you – non-stop – and each one sounding more and more like a really bad pick up line from a movie, it could get very irritating. 

 

“Thank you Perry, again.  You know, you don’t have to keep complimenting me, I’m here aren’t I?”  She forced another smile to her lips.

 

Unfortunately…

 

He smiled back, his teeth so white they were almost blinding her. “I’m sorry, I must be embarrassing you. I just can’t seem to keep my mouth shut when I’m staring at something that is so beautifully radiant.”

 

Another grating smile came to her face.

 

He moved closer to her, draping his arm against the back of her chair and she sat up straighter.  This night could not end soon enough for her.  She had high hopes for Perry but from the get-go she knew it would be a bust.

 

They met at the bar around eight o’clock, and according to the unwritten ‘Woman’s Guide to Dating’, she arrived promptly fifteen minutes late. From the moment Perry had stood up to greet her he had scoped out every inch of her body. In fact, those bold eyes had spent more time looking at her chest and legs than her face.  How annoying was that! 

 

It’s your own fault; you chose to wear the ‘fuck me’ dress…

 

When the waiter led them to their table and she sat down, she’d come to the sad realization that every single man had only one thing on the agenda…sex.  Yes that’s what she was looking for but she was hoping that whomever she had sex with would have potential for something more.  It only took a few minutes to realize that Perry was not prospective material.  He was only interested in the one thing. He wasn’t interested in who she was. He didn’t want to know that she loved spending rainy mornings in bed with a good book and a cup of hot chocolate.  Or that her favorite colors were red and black. It was all about him. Every word that came out of his mouth was said to impress her with his misguided, over-endowed ego.

 

Shit, he has a bigger head than Angelus, and I didn’t think that was possible.

 

Ah, but there was a difference between Perry’s arrogance and Angelus’. 

 

While Angelus was cocky and arrogant to the point that made you want to kill him it was bearable because it was mixed in with all of the sexy male charisma of a man that knew his own self worth.  He wasn’t bragging; he was simply telling it how it was.

 

On the other hand, Perry’s arrogance sounded more like he was fishing for compliments, waiting to hear that expected ‘oh wow’ comment from whatever bimbo he was playing it on. At least that’s what it sounded like to her, but then again she didn’t know him that well.  Maybe, like Angelus, he really was all that he was implying he was.

 

God, she had to stop thinking of the negatives or she’d be a lonely spinster the rest of her life.

 

Think positive Buffy!

 

Positive, well…let’s see, he was tall with a muscular frame. Of course it wasn’t all bulk and hard muscles but it was still nice.  He reminded her of a swimmer; long, lean and mean.  He also had dark hair and dark eyes, which was a point in his favor.  But then again, her fingers didn’t itch to run through that hair nor did those eyes make her feel as if she were the only woman in the room when he looked at her, and sadly, she wasn’t feeling much heat when he touched her either.

 

Stop it!  You have to move on!  Forget about Mr. Emotionally Unavailable!  Live your life!

 

On a quiet sigh of resolution she willed her body to relax and willed her brain to concentrate on Perry with an open mind. She turned and looked at him with a true warm smile on her face.

 

“So I told him that I wasn’t paying another penny over 1.5 mill for that house. I mean come on, the garage wasn’t even big enough to house my H1 Hummer, and you know how big those are.”

 

Yup and now I know how big your dick is…

 

Her smile faltered slightly, but she chuckled like a good little date right along with him. 

 

“Well that house wasn’t that great, besides I’m probably not going to buy around here anyway.”

 

She took a sip of her wine. “Oh, why not?”

 

“I’m really looking to buy a place overseas actually.”

 

“Really, Europe?”

 

“Yes. Ireland actually. It’s the land of my ancestors and I have this drive inside of me to just be there, you know what I mean? Like I belong there.”

 

She smiled, “That sounds really nice Perry. It’s an ambitious plan.”

 

Growing bolder by the minute, he leaned in further against her and laid his hand down on her shoulder. Only this time, she didn’t shiver with unease – actually, it didn’t feel so bad. Now that she was a bit more relaxed – thanks to her third glass of wine -  and open to giving him a chance, his touch was kind of…nice and well, warm.

 

See Buffy all you have to do is relax and concentrate on Perry and not that big stupid lug.

 

“I’m actually planning a trip there next month. There are a couple of really fantastic manors that I have set up to look at it.”

 

She nodded, truly interested in what he was saying as she took another drink of her wine.

 

“I’d love some company, are you…interested?”

 

She choked on her wine and started to cough. 

 

God, he moves fast, that’s a notch against you Perry. Damn it, why’d he have to go and ruin it!

 

Perry’s hand moved down her back where he started to tap her lightly in between her shoulder blades. “Are you alright?”

 

She took another drink, smiling shyly at him as she felt his hand take a further trip south down her back. “Yeah, I’m fine. Um, Perry, I don’t…”

 

“Well hey, if it isn’t Perry.”

 

Buffy stiffened and her mouth hung open in shock as she looked away from Perry and stared at the back of some bald guy’s head that was sitting at the table in front of theirs.

 

Oh-my-God!

 

Perry smiled brightly then looked up at the shadow that was standing over Buffy, his smile faltering when he saw who it was.

 

“Angelus, hey, fancy meeting you here.”

 

Angelus stood behind Buffy smiling down at Perry.  “Yeah, small world isn’t it.”

 

“Chokingly so.” Buffy mumbled as she quickly downed the last of her wine.

 

Angelus turned and looked down at her, “Oh, I’m sorry am I interrupting your date…”

 

He angled his body so he could see her face more clearly just as she turned and looked up at him, he appeared completely surprised. “Buffy?  Wow, I didn’t know you two kids were dating.”

 

She stiffly smiled at him then looked away and stared down into her empty glass – why are you empty? More…I need more! - her hands gripped the delicate crystal so hard she was surprised the stem didn’t snap. 

 

What the hell is he doing here? 

 

Perry didn’t notice the sudden stiffness in her body even though his hand squeezed her shoulder as he looked at her. Chuckling he said, “Actually, this is our first date. So if you don’t…”

 

He never got a chance to finish. 

 

“Hey you guys don’t mind if I join you do you? I’m meeting some friends and it appears I’ve arrived too early.”

 

Meeting friends? What friends?  They’re all away.

 

Angelus smiled at Perry then slapped him on the back. It was more than just a friendly guy slap; it had a bit of a punch to it. Caught unaware Perry pitched forward and in so doing his hand slipped off of Buffy’s back.

 

Smirking happily, Angelus walked around Buffy then slide himself into the chair across from them.

 

Her eyes immediately rose and met his, and she stopped breathing, once more struck dumb by the most supreme specimen of the male species she had ever seen.

 

It wasn’t just the beautifully sculpted rock hard body or the gorgeous brutally handsome face that made him so superb, it was the confidence that radiated off of him in waves as he sat in the chair like he owned the place. 

 

He leaned back casually, his large frame filling the chair with ease.  He was wearing his trademark black suit with a deep royal blue button down shirt underneath it. It was open at the top, revealing smooth skin that made her want to lean over and lick him. 

 

He reached over and grabbed the bottle of wine off the table and then filled her glass.  When he was done he smiled at her as he put the bottle back down on the table.

 

She quickly drank it.

 

At her first glance, which was totally blinded by his sex appeal, he seemed completely at ease and looked like a man that was here to meet friends but who had arrived early…just like he said.  But the more she looked at him and studied his features the more she noticed the contradictory subtleness of his appearance. And what she saw made her eyes crinkle with annoyance.

 

This was no coincidence.  He was here on purpose. But how?  Why?

 

It was all there to see, from the cocky grin that was plastered on his face to his beautiful eyes that were sparkling with smugness.  Even his body which at first seemed cool and relaxed now spoke to her of its volatile mood.

 

His shoulders were set just a bit higher than normal. His left leg that rested on top of his right knee – a position that appeared to be calm – was rigorous as he moved his foot stiffly up and down. And his hand that lay seemingly at ease on his thigh, contracted restlessly yet ever so slightly into his leg.

 

They were such small disparities that someone who didn’t know him, someone like Perry, would never have recognized it.  But not Buffy, she knew him, she knew that body and all of its telling signs as if they were her own. 

 

He was tense and not as happy as he wanted them to believe.  But like any emotionally detached male his real feelings were not revealed in the sound of his voice, which was smooth, light, and friendly.

 

“You’ll have to excuse my surprise at seeing you guys together. You know Perry, Buffy and I are neighbors. In fact, we’re very close friends. Funny, she never mentioned your date.” 

 

His brown orbs swung over to Buffy’s face, they were angry and…accusing? 

 

Her eyes bulged with infuriation as she stared back at him and read everything those eyes said – he was mad at her for not telling him about her date with Perry. 

 

For one second she forgot all about Perry and was on the verge of opening her mouth and yelling at him but then she quickly stomped it down. That would serve no purpose but aggravate her more, so instead she quietly seethed inside.

 

Who the hell did he think he was?

 

He’s trying to sabotage my date! 

 

Why the hell would he do that? 

 

Answers to those questions would come later when she had him alone and she could squeeze them out of him with her hands on that thick neck.  But now, if he meant to frazzle her, he was sadly mistaken. 

 

Her face glowed with mischief and her soft laugh was just as carefree and light as his. “Well I wouldn’t really say close, we’re more like passing acquaintances.”  She said as she looked at Perry’s confused face.

 

Perry opened his mouth to respond but once more was cut off by Angelus, who slapped his hand down on the table causing it to rattle as he let loose with a full hearty laugh.

 

“Passing acquaintances!  She’s pulling your leg Per.” He leaned into the table, whispering. “Do passing acquaintances eat breakfast together every morning?”

 

Buffy’s eyes were slits of outrage but Perry was watching Angelus so he didn’t see it. He knew one thing for sure though and that was that he suddenly felt very uncomfortable, like he was the third wheel or something.  There were undercurrents of outraged hostility spewing between Buffy and Angelus, and something else that was just as strong that he couldn’t decipher.

 

“I…ah...I…um...”

 

Perry was stuttering like an idiot at the same time as Buffy kicked her right foot forward. She landed it on Angelus knee. His humor filled eyes slide to her pissed off gaze but Perry didn’t notice any of it he was too busy trying to figure out exactly where he stood in this conversation.

 

“No, I um wouldn’t say that at all.”

 

Buffy smiled at Perry as she leaned over and petted his hand lingering as she did. “Actually, Perry, he’s right. You see, we live on the same block and have mutual friends.” She leaned closer to him, the side of her left breast pressed against him as she laid her palm on his arm, flashing him her biggest smile yet. “Angelus just tags along.”

 

Angelus chuckled at her words but inside he was feeling anything but humorous. 

 

When he first walked into the Lounge he spotted them immediately as the waiter led them to their table.  They weren’t hard to miss. Though he was loath to admit it, they made a striking pair. Perry’s dark hair and tall slim frame next to Buffy’s honey blonde hair and petite form were arresting but it wasn’t the real eye catcher. What drew his gaze to them immediately, and every other living breathing male in the room, was that fucking dress!

 

The second he saw it his lips clamped together hard and infuriatingly.  He bought that dress for her on her birthday.  He had a penchant for buying her clothes and shoes, things that he wanted to see her in.  Things that he knew she would look incredibly sexy wearing.  The dress was just another one of those masochistic moments that he loved to torture himself with.  He had been in Manhattan for a game against the Rangers and was walking down Fifth Avenue when he passed by a boutique and saw it in the window. Its bold sensuality had appealed to him, and the first thing he wondered was what it would look like on Buffy and how much enjoyment it would give him to ogle her as she wore the barely there dress. So, with only his pleasure in mind he bought it.

 

He wasn’t getting much pleasure from it now. 

 

Seeing her luscious body – scratch that…‘his’ luscious body – stroll through the restaurant wearing ‘his’ dress and on the arm of another man, made him want to run over there and hip check Perry out the window.

 

“So what were you two discussing when I so rudely interrupted.”

 

Buffy snorted.

 

You mean as planned, don’t you?

 

Perry straightened in his chair as his confidence returned, and he placed his hand once more on Buffy’s shoulder. Buffy fully opened to him, letting him pull her in just a bit closer.

 

“Actually, I was just telling Buffy about some manors I was looking to buy in Ireland. It’s my ancestral town and I have a strong desire to spend some time there.”

 

“Well now that is very interesting Per.  It seems we have something in common.”

 

Besides the hots for Buffy…

 

Perry smiled tightly at him.  “Of course, McBain, it’s Irish, I should have known.”

 

Angelus nodded. “So from what parts do you hail from Per?”

 

“County Cork,” He turned and looked at Buffy, “It’s a beautiful little village on the Southwest side of the country.”

 

Angelus’ eyes bulged with feigned surprise – well feigned to Buffy’s eyes. “Wow it really is a small world. I have family in County Cork, Coolea, to be exact.”

 

“Imagine that.” Perry answered, his voice sounding strained.

 

“Yes, imagine that.” Buffy mimicked and Angelus smiled.

 

“That’s a very Gaelic speaking part of Erin, Per. If you’re looking at manors there, then you must speak the language?”

 

“Actually, my grandparents spoke it fluently and I picked some up here and there.” He smiled at Angelus then turned that smile on Buffy. His hand flexed on her shoulder as he spoke Gaelic to her. 

 

Buffy listened and waited for the tingles that normally electrified her whenever she heard the beautiful language…but it never came.  The words that came out of Perry’s mouth were neither smoothly spoken nor natural. They were stiff and awkward, and sadly, grated in her ears like fingernails on a chalkboard.

 

Angelus smirked with a glint of humor in his eyes – he heard it too. He said something back to Perry in Gaelic, drawing his eyes back to him.

 

Buffy had no idea what either one of them said but the second Angelus opened his mouth those little tingles of excitement shot through her like a lightening bolt.  She tore her gaze away from him and peered over at Perry, he looked very confused.

 

He has no idea what he just said. 

 

Angelus never one to pass up an opening, took the opportunity he had been waiting for.

 

“A bit stiff but not too bad Per, of course if you really want to fit in when you’re there and not sound like a…tourist,”

 

The last word was full of loathing but Buffy doubted Perry even heard it. Although…his face was a bit pink and his lips were pursed together angrily.

 

Well, maybe he did…

 

 “…let me offer you a word of advice. If you relax your mouth it comes out much more loosely more naturally. Like this.”

 

Like a lion on the hunt Angelus’ big body gracefully sat up and leaned forward. He reached across the table and gently picked up Buffy’s hand. Uncoiling it from around her wine glass, he held it in his palm, his thumb stroking her skin with feather light touches as he gazed deeply into her eyes.

 

She almost jumped out of her skin when he grabbed her hand and held it in his so tenderly.  When her eyes rose and looked back into his, her entire body spiked with lust.  Everything around them faded into the distance and it was just them. 

 

Though she new it was futile her body tensed for the blitz that she knew was coming next. And then…she stopped breathing.

 

He opened his mouth and spoke. The words that came out spilled over her body with deliberate sensuousness. The beautiful Gaelic that fluently rolled off his lips was smooth and melodious, entirely natural, it erotically licked every…single…inch…of her body. Every syllable that he spoke was just for her, as if he were whispering in her ear. His beautiful intense gaze held hers as their prisoner as his thumb stroked her palm.

 

Her body became hotter. Her chest heaved as her lungs reached for air that was just not coming as easily as it was a few minutes ago.  Her eyes turned smokier and heavier with want and yearning, a yearning that was dangerously growing out of control. 

 

By the end of his recital his voice had become so low it was almost hard to hear but for Buffy it was thunderous, the desire and lust that it spoke was the purest form of provocation she had ever been bathed in before. Like one big tongue that just licked her entire body.

 

Oh God, I think I just came…

 

Angelus watched as her tongue came out.  His eyes followed its sweeping wet path as it slide across her red painted bottom lip, moistening it, causing it to glisten enticingly. Her spontaneous act roused his senses and fueled his already burning fire. His hand tightened around hers and he resisted the need to push the table out of his way and take her.

 

“That’s…beautiful.”

 

Her voice was breathless and sultry, and her eyes were that luscious smoky green that beguiled his obsession.

 

He meant to prove to her just how uncontrollable her desire for him was. It was a bold move, seducing her right in front of Perry, but it paid off. A blind man could sense her arousal, feel her body’s heat.  The master was once more the master.

 

He should be pleased with himself instead he was cursing. He had conveniently neglected to remember his own rapid and insistent reaction to her honest and sexy responses. And now that his need for her was so great, he had no one to blame but himself.  His body was racked with pain and he was practically ready to burst.

 

Fuck, she’s so beautiful, so sexy…

 

“What, does it mean?”

 

Her throaty question felt like her little hand squeezing his shaft.

 

Perry must have felt the lust thicken the air too because he suddenly cleared his throat. “Yeats?”

 

Ignoring Buffy’s question and beating down his lust, Angelus’ narrowed eyes cut to Perry’s quickly and harshly.  Reluctantly, though it didn’t appear so, he let go of Buffy’s hand and sat back in his chair, once more the air of casualness.

 

“Charles M. Moore.”

 

“I don’t recall an Irish poet named Moore.” Perry commented.

 

Angelus couldn’t help but be grudgingly impressed by Perry’s comment. Of course he missed the slight difference in the dialogue, which didn’t surprise him, but he never would have pegged Perry to know poetry.

 

Angelus knew them because they were in his repertoire of seduction. If spoken in the right way no woman could resist a poem. It was an instant leg spreader. Perry’s knowledge of poetry said one thing to Angelus…he was a player, just like him.  And Angelus didn’t like other players mooching off his current curiosity.

 

“He’s not Irish, he’s a Scot.  The Gaelic is similar though. Personally I prefer it recited in Scots…” he looked at Buffy whose eyes were still smoky, still hot, and still hungrily staring at him, he smirked. “…it’s much more…effective.”

 

Buffy was still openly staring at him when what he said registered through her hazy veil of desire.

 

Amazingly even in her inflamed state she noted a difference in the Gaelic that he just spoke opposed to what her ears were normally gifted with. Not that it mattered. She didn’t know what the poem sounded like in Irish but the Scottish was just as hotly stimulating.

 

What a minute! Poetry…Scot’s?  What the hell? Who is this hot muffin of love sitting across from me?

 

Perry nodded at him. “You speak both, impressive. So there’s more to you than just pushing people around on the ice, I never would have thought it.”

 

The slap to the face was felt, loud and clear. 

 

Angelus sat forward, his face was severe and his eyes were hard as steel. “Considering the beating I gave your team the other night on the scoreboard, my…” his gaze swung over to Buffy and then just as quickly back to Perry. “…talents, should be easy to see…Per.”

 

His insinuation was not lost on Perry who glared back at him.

 

Buffy, however, was completely unaware of the two males that were butting heads right in front of her, she was still stuck on what Angelus said.  Perry flew out the brain. Attempts to ignore Angelus and the lust he created went next. The only thing that remained on her mind was the possibility that maybe she didn’t really know him as well as she thought she did, and for some reason, that notion felt a lot like optimism.

 

She leaned forward.  “I didn’t know you spoke Scottish Gaelic as well as Irish.” She softly said, her eyes had lost their smoky sexiness and were now pondering him thoughtfully.

 

Her question brought his gaze back to hers. The harsh lines in his face disappeared and his eyes softened as he looked at her beautifully entrancing face.

 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me milsean.” He replied just as softly, a small grin on his face meant to stimulate her curiosity even more.

 

And it did.

 

Would it be rude of me if I just leaned over and licked that mouth?

 

She was quickly getting lost in his dark gaze and she shook her head, clearing her mind that was hovering into dangerous territory, and trying to get back to her previous thoughts.

 

“What did you say?”

 

Before he could open his mouth to answer her, a shrill whistle echoed throughout the restaurant.

 

Like everyone else in the room, Buffy turned to see who was responsible for the loud obnoxious sound, seeing the figure standing there she frowned.

 

Ah, said friend…his partner in crime, I should have known…

 

Lindsay stood in the foyer of the Lounge, with two buxom brunettes, one on each arm. He lifted his hand and waved, indifferent to the fact that he just made a complete spectacle of himself in the otherwise refined lounge.

 

Angelus waved back. “Oh, it seems my friends have arrived. Perry, it’s always nice to chat with a fellow Irishman.”

 

He stood up, pushed his chair in under the table and then faced Buffy.

 

“Buffy, it’s been a pleasure...”

 

Reaching for her hand, he turned it palm side up and then bent down and kissed her palm, his lips lingering longer then they should and his tongue lightly licking her skin as he held her gaze.

 

“…as always.”

 

He had the audacity to wink at her. Then he released her hand and walked away.

 

She watched as he walked up to his ‘friends’ and to the brunette on Lindsay’s left arm. His arm went around her waist as he leaned down and met her lips in a kiss of greeting.

 

Buffy saw red.

 

“Is he always an arrogant ass?”  Perry asked as they both watched Lindsay and Angelus escort the girls to the bar.

 

Arrogant, conceited, insufferably smug, scoundrel, rake!

 

“It’s the air he breaths.” She answered him brusquely.

 

Reaching the bar, Lindsay and Angelus sat down as the girls went to the bathroom. 

 

“Whiskey, straight up, and keep em coming.” Angelus sneered at the bartender as he sat down then looked over at the couple that sat too close for his liking. 

 

What, is he planning on jumping her right here in the restaurant?

 

“So that’s why,” Lindsay said as he took a drink of his beer.

 

“That’s why what?” 

 

Angelus absently responded. He was too busy keeping an eye on that snake Perry, who just shifted in his seat and moved in closer to Buffy. He leaned down to her neck, said something – by the slight shake of Buffy’s shoulder it was some clever shit, that made him want to rip out Perry’s tongue - and then he kissed her right on that sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. 

 

Rip out tongue and mouth…

 

Angelus knew that spot, he had kissed and tasted and sucked on that spot so many times in the past couple of days that he had come to think of it as his.  To see Perry’s slimy lips on it now set such a rage inside of him that he almost couldn’t think.  And he definitely couldn’t follow the conversation he was having with Lindsay.

 

That’s my fucking spot!

 

A glass was put down in front of him and Angelus picked it up and drank it down.

 

Lindsay grinned.  He and Angelus had been buds since college so he knew his friend, exceedingly well.  Right now, he was ready to dish out some serious hurt on someone. Lindsay knew who that someone was and why. Too bad Angelus didn’t. For a smart guy his friend could be really dumb. Still it made for some interesting entertainment.

 

“That’s why we’re here.”

 

“What’s wrong with here? It’s a nice place.”

 

Angelus finally turned, giving his sometime annoying friend his full attention. Oh…for all of about ten seconds until he detected movement in his peripheral vision. 

 

He gaze quickly swung back toward the couple.  His hand tightened around his glass.  His eyes were riveted on Perry’s hand that grew bolder and now rested on Buffy’s knee, his forefinger moving up and down her skin…caressing her, touching her...

 

I’m going to fucking kill him!  I’m going to take my hockey stick and chop off those fucking fingers! Then I’m going to wrap it around his neck and squeeze the very life out of him.

 

His expression was so fierce, so black with retribution, that Lindsay didn’t even think Angelus had any idea of the picture he presented.  Standing there, body taut, face cold and hard, he was the embodiment of a dangerous animal getting ready to strike and deal out death. Well death for Perry at least.

 

Lindsay nodded his agreement. “It is a nice place, if you’re taking your future wife out for dinner with the folks.” He laughed.

 

His comment drew Angelus’ eyes to him at once. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Lindsay ignored his glare then swiveled in his chair and looked over at Buffy and Perry.  He completely understood his friend’s obsession with their PR rep.  Buffy Summers was one of a kind. She was intelligent, she had a fantastic sense of humor and she was fun to be with. She was also extremely confident in who she was as a woman, which was incredibly sexy to any male.  She was one of those rare women that could be charmingly feminine yet still hang tough with the guys all at the same time.  If that weren’t enough of a turn on then there were the obvious attributes which any male could see, she was fucking gorgeous and unbelievably sexy. 

 

“Buffy’s looking very…”

 

Perry said something and Buffy laughed. As she did, she moved in her chair, angling her body closer to Perry’s and causing the slit in the dress to fall down, baring one tanned and exquisitely shaped thigh, and which was becoming perilously close to baring more than just thigh. 

 

Angelus’ frown darkened.

 

Lindsay cleared his throat as his eyes longingly raked up that naked thigh, his trousers becoming uncomfortably tight as his voice dropped to a husky level.

 

“…tasty tonight.”

 

A big hand was suddenly attached to his face pulling his head back around and toward the raging ire of his friend.

 

“You can put your eyes back in your head now.” Angelus’ voice was low and hard, and Lindsay grinned even harder.

 

Angelus scowled at him then once more turned away and picked up his freshly refilled glass.

 

I’m going to burn that dress, the first fucking chance I get.

 

Lindsay pondered his rapidly drinking friend. “Is it that hard for you to admit it?” The question was softly asked with a hint of humor to it.

 

“Admit what?”

 

“That you like her.”

 

“Of course I like her, she’s my friend.”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Lindsay bent his head closer, whispering. “I’m talking about you liking her as more than just as a friend.”

 

Angelus turned and looked at him sharply. “What? You’re off your fucking rocker buddy.”

 

“Come on man, admit it…you like her.”

 

Angelus scoffed, “No I don’t.”

 

“Look ‘just a friend’ does not threaten the life of his teammates if they so much as look at her funny. Your words not mine.”

 

Angelus looked affronted. “You guys were smacking her on the ass like she was one of the guys.”

 

“No, we were smacking her on the ass to get a cheap feel.”

 

Angelus’ scowl was murderous. “It was disrespectful.”

 

Lindsay’s eyes bulged and then he laughed. “Disrespectful? That coming from the man that fucks a different woman every night without even knowing their names! “ He shook his head. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Look you know and I know that no one has more respect for Buffy than me and the guys. She’s a woman in a man’s world and she kicks ass doing it. You, my thick headed obtuse friend, just can’t admit that you don’t like the idea of someone else having the hots for her and touching her ass.”

 

He noticed Angelus looking back at Perry and Buffy, and the way his eyes seemed to turn into little slithers of death as Perry slowly stroked his hand up and down Buffy’s bare back. ”Or any other part of her for that matter.” He added.  “That over there is the reason why you told me to meet you here with the girls. You’re jealous.”

 

Angelus quickly looked at him and his look was pure contempt. “Jealous? I am not jealous.” He laughed off the utter discomfort he felt with the thought.

 

I don’t get jealous!

 

Lindsay laughed right back at him. “No, then why are we here? This isn’t our normal stomping ground. I don’t exactly see bare breasted women walking around, eyeballing my Washington’s and waiting to sit on my lap.”

 

Angelus turned away from him taking another drink. “This conversation is over.”

 

Before Lindsay could respond their dates came back and sat down.  Their conversation quickly led to the night’s agenda while Angelus sat there stewing.

 

What the hell is he talking about? I’m not jealous. I don’t trust Perry that’s all.

 

Another twenty minutes went by with Angelus dividing his attention between the very forward Mandy – or Brandy – whatever the hell her name was, and the couple that sat at the table beyond them.

With every touch Perry stole on Buffy’s naked flesh, Angelus took a drink.

 

Every time Buffy’s husky deep laugh filled his ears, he took another drink.

 

Then when he saw Perry stand and help Buffy put on her wrap, the lower half of his body pressing a little to intimately up against a place he should not be anywhere near, he took three more drinks.

 

With his hand on her lower back Perry led Buffy toward the door, as they passed the bar she couldn’t help but look- which was a mistake.

 

The second she did, their eyes met and as Angelus held her heated gaze with his own irate mocking one, he bent into the brunette that was plastered by his side and nuzzled her neck as his hand reached behind her and fondled her ass.  

 

Buffy looked away, the cold emptiness that filled her heart and her soul were an awakening – albeit a crushingly heartbreaking make me want to rip out my insides awakening - it was the incentive she needed to truly get on with her life and forget about harboring any emotions besides contempt when it came to Angelus McBain.

 

She turned a bright beautiful smile to Perry as she wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his arm.

 

“Your place or mine?”

 

 

****************

 

 

Smooth pliable lips kissed their way down her neck as they continued their journey to her collarbone. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that was a particular sensitive spot for her, and he’d quickly used it to his advantage, sucking or licking it whenever he lowered his head into the crook of her neck. 

 

Like a practiced lover he worked all the angles.

 

As his mouth tantalized her senses, his hand caressed her belly then moved up her ribcage, his finger slid back and forth under her breasts as his nail raked the tender skin gently.

 

With a smile on her face, she shivered from the delicate yet rough touch that stirred the beginnings of desire in her body.  He was a skillful lover, each touch meant to inflame her senses, excite her. And it was working.  She could feel her nipples tighten to erect little buds and the wonderful light pulsating sensation that begin in her core.

 

He felt good.  His lean body stretched out on top of her with his arousal pressed flush against her increased her ardor. And when his mouth slid lower and his hands pulled her bra to the side, she felt the cool air touch her naked breast and she inhaled softly. A light moan escaped her lips as his mouth took one erect nipple inside his warmth.

 

She lightly caressed his back as she opened her senses up to him and the feelings he created inside of her. They were pleasantly soft and unhurried. The desire that was slowly building inside was sweet and nice. 

 

They were not hot and heavy.

 

They were not steadily building to the point that she thought she would die if he didn’t enter her soon. 

 

When she felt him shift, felt him press his gloved hardness against her cleft, stroking her flesh, seeking the wetness that he sought for a smooth entry, she felt her body oblige…lightly. 

 

But then, time stopped.

 

In a split second while time obligingly stood still her body answered the unspoken question that was firing away in her head since she walked out of the restaurant.

 

Was this what I wanted?

 

As he uneasily stroked the semi-moist flesh between her legs with his cock the answer was a resounding no.

 

He had all the right moves, he was a good looking guy and he did feel nice pressed up against her but she didn’t feel that whirlwind of excitement coursing through her.  She didn’t have this blinding need to consummate the act.  Her body knew what it wanted and to her dismay, this wasn’t it.

 

She was forced to realize what she had always known to be true, though she tried to change it. If there was no love in her heart for him the sex would mean nothing. She would feel…nothing. Whether or not her body got satisfaction didn’t matter, in the end, she would still feel empty and cold…lonely.

 

He grunted against her, his breath hot and heavy blew across her breasts as he switched to the neglected nipple. Latching on, his mouth sucked harder as she felt the mushroom tip of his shaft press against her opening.

 

The hips under her hands pulled back. 

 

Her eyes opened.

 

Her hands halted his forward motion.

 

And her words stopped him before he went any further.

 

“Perry, stop.”

 

His head lifted and tumultuous brown eyes gazed at her questioningly. “What? What’s wrong?”

 

She felt horrible. Stupid and just well…horrible. 

 

“I’m sorry Perry, I can’t…do this.” 

 

She gently pushed on his hips as she wiggled out from underneath him and to the other side of the bed.

 

Perry fell down on his side, his chest rising and falling with his unspent desire, his stormy eyes searching her face for answers. But she couldn’t hold his gaze and she sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling her bra back over her breasts.

 

“I’m sorry. I just, I thought I could do this you know. I mean women have sex all the time with men they don’t love. And I thought I could do it too. But I just can’t and I…”

 

Perry took deep calming breaths in an effort to still his racing heart. His hand raked through his hair as he tried to follow everything that she was saying. In the current state he was in it was hard but the way her ramblings became more and more frantic and upset with every word she spoke, could not be missed.

 

Disappointed, he put his quickly deflating tool back in his pants.  The he sat up and moved behind her, his hand gently touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly and he smiled at her back.

 

“Buffy relax, its okay.”

 

She shook her head. “No, it’s not. God I’m such a bitch. Leading you on like this and then…”

 

“Buffy listen to me I understand. To be honest I was really surprised when we ended up here to begin with, astoundingly happy, but still surprised.”

 

She turned and looked at him, “You were? Why?”

 

His smile was warm and genuine, drawing her into his gaze. “Buffy in the three years that we’ve known each other I’ve been trying to get down your pants.”

 

Her eyes crinkled, a smirk playing on her lips. “That’s very…upfront of you Perry.”

 

He smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “I’m a player Buffy.  You know it and I know it.  I’m not ashamed to admit that. My point is that in all of my attempts you never once gave in. I always knew that you weren’t the sleeping around type. I respected that about you. I always have. Just like I respect your decision now.”

 

“But you kept flirting with me.”

 

He chuckled, “You’re a beautiful woman Buffy and I’m just a man. It’s in my blood to chase forbidden fruit.”

 

She returned his smile as she studied him covertly. He looked pretty hot laying there nearly naked with that rascal smile on his face. Yes, Perry was a good looking guy and he was decent – well, too a point at least - two things that rarely came together in such a nice sexy package.   Leaning forward she touched his cheek as she gently kissed him on the lips. “Thank you for being so understanding. You really are a great guy.”

 

Her smile increased as he ducked his head blushing slightly and she teased him. “A player blushing…never thought I’d see the day.”

 

Leaning down she picked up her panties and pulled them on, then she stood up and walked over to her dress that was lying on the floor.

 

Perry sat back and leaned against the bed frame as he watched her get dressed. “So, how long has it been since you two broke up?”

 

Pulling her dress up, she answered him. ”Riley and I broke up a month ago, you know that.”

 

Perry shook his head. “No not you and Riley, you and Angelus.”

 

She stopped short. Her eyes swung to his as a nervous giggle came out of her mouth. “Angelus? What are you talking about Perry, Angelus and I are just friends.  We’ve never dated.”

 

Spent the night fucking the crap out of each other yes but definitely no dating.

 

He leaned over to the nightstand and took out a cigarette. Relaxing once more against the headboard he lit it. “You could have fooled me.”

 

Her baffled expression remained on her face. “What do you mean?”

 

He looked back at her wondering if she was serious or just playing him. Her expression told him she wasn’t playing; she looked completely taken back by his comment at the same time as hope flared in her beautiful green eyes. He almost shook his head at her.  She had absolutely no idea.  “Buffy, ‘just friends’ don’t act the way he did tonight.”

 

“How was that?”

 

He smiled at her, still blown away by her slowness.  “He was jealous.”

 

She started back at him blankly, a million turbulent thoughts causing havoc to her well being. 

 

Angelus…jealous?

 

As if reading her thoughts, he nodded his head at her. 

 

It was a wonderfully thrilling notion but just as ludicrously impossible. She zipped up her dress laughing at him. “He was not jealous.”

 

He rolled his eyes at her as he verbally mused his thoughts.  “I thought all women had the jealously radar imbedded in them, apparently I was wrong.” 

 

He sat up bringing his foot to rest on the bed as he leaned against his knee. “Buffy men do not act the way he did tonight when they are just friends with a woman.  The man was ready to leap over the table and throw me out the window just for talking to you. He was burning with it. Didn’t you see that?  Feel that?”

 

She looked back at him, her mind going over the events that rattled her at the restaurant, the events that led her to where she was right now.

 

Was Perry right?  It was weird how he just appeared there?  And how did he even know about my date to begin with? 

 

Perry watched her as she stood there staring off into space feeling a bit sad for her. He should be feeling sad for himself.  He came so close to finally getting what he’d wanted only to have the door slammed shut.  It was very disappointing, but he didn’t relish the idea of taking a woman that was not really with him while he made love to them. He knew women’s bodies well enough to know that Buffy hadn’t been that into it. 

 

He realized, as he continued to study her features which were rapidly changing from wonderment to excitement then to disbelief, that she was a woman in love. A woman in love with a man that she knew was a player. A woman that had told herself that he could never love her back.  Seeing that made Perry feel bad for her.

 

He liked Buffy, respected her too, which was rare for him.  There weren’t too many women out there that he did respect.  He had a sudden surge of protective anger toward Angelus for putting her in such a state of confusion and treating her so callously.  Didn’t he see the love that shone in her eyes when she looked at him? Well that and aggravation but the love was there.  He had noticed it. How could Angelus be so blind?

 

She looked over at Perry to see him staring at her. Her voice was so sad and small when she spoke and his heart broke for her.  “Do you really think so?”

 

He smiled at her warmly. “Buffy, trust me. A man knows when he’s being challenged for a woman’s affection.”

 

Her face suddenly lit with a bright burning hope. Her smile was so big, so blindingly beautiful that he felt a spark of envy that it wasn’t for him.

 

She was rushing now, as she put on her shoes and grabbed her wrap and purse. She came over to him and gave him a big fat kiss on the lips. “Thank you Perry. You truly are a wonderful man.”

 

“Yeah, well let’s keep that between us okay.”

 

She laughed. “Okay.”

 

She was on her way out the door when he stopped her again. “Buffy?”

 

She turned around, “yeah?”

 

“If you get tired of waiting on that stubborn ass to see what’s right in front of his face, give me a call. I’ll be happy to take his place in your bed.”

 

His smile spoke of the pleasure she would find there and his eyes, which were hot and inviting, validated it.  It made her feel warm inside and she softly chuckled, definitely a charmer this one.

 

“You’ll be the first person I call.”

 

She left Perry’s feeling so optimistically happy that it was crazy and unreal.  The craziest thing about it though was that somewhere in the pits of her soul she knew that Perry was right.

 

All the signs were there. His showing up at the restaurant, the tension she felt from him, all the times that he seemed bothered by the very idea of her dating another man.  Then there were the other things like why he was still chasing her and not moving on.  And why did he always buy her clothes?  What guy bought their friends clothes?

 

Everything fit but there was still a part of her that couldn’t believe it. If he did have feelings for her, then why not say it?

 

Because he probably doesn’t know what he’s feeling? Emotionally disconnected remember!

 

That was true. He was as thick as a stump when it came to anything that had to do with love.

 

God the feelings that were coursing through her were things she never thought she would feel.  But she was still reluctant to act on them. She was afraid of putting herself out there only to get stomped down into the ground.

 

She got in her car and started it up, heading home. She was going to have to think about this some more before she made any rash decisions.

 

A nice cup of hot chocolate, some Alicia Keyes playing in the background as she lay in bed and pondered her very thrilling thoughts sounded like a good plan.

 

 

****************

 

 

What the hell am I doing here?

 

It was a damn good question…that he had absolutely no answer for. Well that wasn’t entirely true.

 

He was standing in Buffy’s living room impatiently – sadistically - waiting to see what happened with Perry. He was here because the need to know if she slept with Perry was burning inside of him so brightly, so fucking deep and painful that if he were home, he would be demolishing the shit out of his house.

 

After watching her walkout of the Lounge with her tight little body pressed up against another man, something inside of him snapped.  He had no explanation for his rampant emotions nor did he want to really look at them for what they were, he only wanted to hurt something, something being Perry.

 

He left ten minutes and ten shots after them, leaving Lindsay staring at him with that smug fucking grin on his face that he just wanted to wipe off with his fist, and two very confused girls sitting next to him.

 

He did have one cognizant thought which was sleeping with either one of those girls was repugnant.  He had absolutely no desire to bed either of them, which considering his degenerate nature and past, was just not him. 

 

That truth hit him like a bucket of cold ice tonight. 

 

While he sat at that table seducing Buffy, looking at her, touching her skin, hearing the soft husky sound of her voice, he had been aroused to the point where he ached for her and she hadn’t even done anything.  But when Mandy boldly stroked his cock with her hand, he had felt…nothing.

 

NOTHING! 

 

He just didn’t get it! 

 

It wasn’t like him to be so single minded when it came to women.  Variety was the spice of life damn it! It was his God damn fucking motto! Yet the only thing that occupied his every thought and desire was Buffy. And the only thing that he could think about now was her with another man.

 

That’s what led him to be in her house now…waiting like a caged lion.

 

Two hours.

 

Two fucking long ass hours he’d been here, waiting for her, sulking and brooding with his beloved bottle of Jameson clasped in his hand.

 

God, he was so fucking confused he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.  He didn’t want to delve into why he was feeling the way he was feeling but he couldn’t escape it.  He just could not stop thinking of Perry and Buffy…together…naked …fucking.  That image disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.  And that disturbance made him angry, made him drink more, made him to want to kill someone.

 

He snorted out loud and then took a swig from the bottle clasped in his hand.

 

Jealous?  Lindsay doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about! Why would I be jealous? I already fucked her! Why do I care if she sleeps with someone else?  It’s not my business.

 

He kept telling himself that, over and over again, too bad the previous and more prominent high definition wide screen image of two naked bodies entwined together on a bed overpowered his attempt at making himself feel better.

 

He stopped short as that annoying unrelenting emotion swept inside of him again. Taking another long pull off the bottle and concentrating on it his eyes widened.

 

Fuck!

 

I really am jealous!

 

How can that be? 

 

Jealously was a sign of a man in love. He shivered with that thought then fiercely shook his head.  No, he was not jealous and he was not in love. He snorted, he didn’t even believe in love so Lindsay’s implication that he was jealous was bullshit!  Yes he liked her – as a friend - and he definitely desired her, but love her? 

 

No fucking way!

 

He couldn’t believe that.

 

Wouldn’t believe it…but…how could he not. 

 

The idea of another man touching her intimately put a bloodlust inside of him that he had never in all of his thirty-three years of living felt before, and it was literally killing him. Yet the needling inside of him would not let him be ignorant anymore, it was more than just sex…much more. 

 

The stomach-turning disturbing fact was that Lindsay was right, what he felt for her went beyond the physical, beyond friendship.  He knew – just as he’d always known though he didn’t want to admit it – that he resented any emotional attachment she had with other men. Even the tight relationship she shared with Spike bothered him. 

 

He shook his head then took another pull on the bottle. 

 

Tormenting himself with these absurd notions of jealously and love were just stupid. There was nothing to figure out. If he was jealous it was only because he hadn’t tired of her yet and he just did not like sharing. 

 

A light suddenly shone throw the window as a car pulled into the driveway.  She was home. The relief that swept through him was short lived.  The anger that took its place thrived as he waited for her to walk through the door. 

 

Buffy opened the front door and was immediately bombarded with the sweet scent of Whiskey filling her nostrils. Her face crinkled distastefully as she turned on the light.

 

“Did you sleep with him?”

 

Her eyes locked on to the face that asked the deceptively quiet yet tension filled question.

 

He stood across the room from her. His body was erect with tension; his hair was disheveled like he had been erratically running his hands through it, and he held an open bottle of Whiskey in one hand, while the other was fisted furiously at his side.  He was definitely out of sorts.

 

She was not expecting to see him tonight but she had to admit the prospect of getting everything out in the open thrilled her.  Though considering that he was drunk and probably not in the most receptive mood, now was most likely not the best time to enlighten him, but what the hell. No time like now to put herself up on the butcher block. Of course, she would have to tread carefully in order to draw him out. Start with a nice simple question.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

The calm and almost serene quality of her voice startled him and made him get a grip on his emotions. He took a deep breath. Breathing it out he tried to push some of the tension out of his body. His fist uncurled and his stance changed to someone who was trying to appear very casual as he loosened his legs.

 

He chortled at her, but it never reached his eyes, no, those were still angry.

 

“I was worried about you.”

 

“Why?”

 

 “Because I don’t trust Perry.”

 

“You barely know him.” She quietly said.

 

The loud snort that came out of his mouth was followed by a guffaw that hinted at the deep unsettled feelings that were inside of him.  “Oh, I know him alright.”

 

“What makes you say that, because he’s just like…you?”

 

His brow furrowed deeper with his raging emotions, he knew exactly what she meant. “Yeah that’s right. He’s a player Buffy, he’s not interested in anything else but getting in between your legs.”

 

She smiled at him, really she couldn’t help it. Did he realize how absurd that sounded coming out of his mouth?

 

Her smile enraged him further and the fact that she still hadn’t answered his question fueled it on.

 

“Answer the question.”

 

She stood there defiantly with her arms crossed over her chest; her answer was simple, quiet and firm.

 

“No.”

 

His fist curled angrily again and he felt his face turn red from the rage rolling through him as he stared into her curious gaze. She didn’t have to answer the question because the second she walked into the house he knew it. 

 

The last time he saw her, her hair was swept up in a neat coif. Now the lustrous honey blonde hair was flowing gloriously free all around her. Wild and in complete sexy disarray.  It was the look of a woman that had been busy…getting busy in a bed…with a man…that wasn’t him.

 

It was all the confirmation he needed, it was the final instigation that erupted the boiling inferno of anger and confusion that had been hanging on by a very, very thin thread.

 

He threw the Whiskey bottle across the room and into the kitchen. Hitting the cabinets, it shattered. Glass splintered everywhere as Whiskey spewed all over the entire first floor of the house.

 

Buffy jumped from the sudden display of temper but she kept her mouth shut.

 

He started to pace. His long strides were agitated and restless as he tried to get a grip on his anger. After a few moments of stony silence she finally, softly, asked him a question.

 

“Why do you care if I sleep with Perry?”

 

A burst of mad laugher erupted from his lips as he continued to pace. When he spoke he wasn’t even talking to her.

 

“That’s a good fucking question. The same fucking question I’ve been asking myself all fucking night long!”

 

He stopped pacing, his confused angry gaze landed on her as he continued speaking.

 

“What makes you so special? Why can’t I get you out of my system?  Why does the thought of you and Perry, fuck - you and anyone, make me want to fucking kill something?”

 

“You know what I think?” She softly asked him.

 

He smirked at her, bowing slightly, disdainfully. “By all means, please fill me in because I haven’t got a fucking clue.”

 

Okay, here we go…

 

“I think that what you feel for me is more than lust. I…”

 

His hand abruptly came up. “Stop. Are you going to tell me next Buff that what I’m feeling for you is…love?”

 

Is that what she was saying? She didn’t know. She knew what she felt for him but she really had no idea what he felt for her.

 

“It’s not my place to tell you how you feel,” she quietly answered.

 

He laughed, starkly and callously. “No it’s really not is it. That would be way too presumptuous of you not to mention COMPLETELY FUCKING WRONG! Fuck, you are just like all the rest of them believing in some fairytale bullshit that two people can feel something for one another besides lust.  Grow up Buffy. Stop thinking like a little girl for just once in your fucking life!”

 

The contempt in his voice angered her and she took a step forward, her voice hardening. “Why do you always do that? Why do you mock me and my beliefs about love?”

 

“Because it doesn’t exist Buff, that’s why! Jesus Christ Buffy are you going to stand there and tell me it does after the man that supposedly loved you fucked another woman! You of all people should know the truth but you don’t want to see it. You rather go through life believing in some stupid bullshit that means nothing!

 

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

 

He took offense to that and in three angry strides he was in front of her. He reached out and grabbed her arms gripping them painfully as he pulled her against him. She looked up at him and her heart was split open wide. 

 

Brown eyes that normally held the confidence of twenty men in them now appeared lost, confused and unsure.  The need to console him blazed inside of her just as strongly as the desire that slammed into her the second their bodies touched.  She opened her mouth to speak but before anything came out his quiet ravaged voice spoke first.

 

“I know exactly what I’m talking about. For years I watched as my once beautiful and vivacious mother disappeared and was replaced with a hard, callous, unfeeling woman.  All because of the love...” he spat out disdainfully, “…that she felt for my father. A man who did nothing but drink and whore around, flaunting his affairs in front of her face, bringing home his bastard children for her to raise. You would think after the first fucking two that the woman would have some God damn fucking self respect and kick the bastard and his whelps out of the house. But did she?  No and you know why Buff? Because she loved him. Because she rather be with him and all of his disgusting fucking faults than be without him.”

 

Buffy was on the verge of tears. She knew he had a lot of brothers and sisters but the truth of their paternity was never spoken before.  Everything made sense to her now…he made sense, and her heart opened even more and deep eternal love filled it. 

 

“You resent her for that, for staying with him?”

 

His grip tightened on her arms. His eyes closed. Memories assaulted him, unwanted memories of a woman crying at night clutching a man’s jacket, and of a little boy hiding in the shadows watching her and feeling only pity and anger for her weak display. 

 

He had been angry with his father, why hadn’t she? Because of love. Love made her weak. Love made her vulnerable.  And he resented her for that. Resented her for not sticking up for herself, for letting the man she loved walk all over her with no regard to what he was doing to her or his children.

 

With a blinding clarity that he didn’t want to see, he saw himself and he saw his bastard of a father; they were one in the same. He had become his father because the fear of becoming his mother was far more frightening.  He had been completely ignorant of it until Buffy came into his life. Day by day, she crawled into his soul, into his heart, and without him even realizing it, it happened.

 

His eyes opened and as he gazed into the beautiful glistening green eyes of the woman that he just could not get out of his system, he understood. 

 

He was just like his mother.

 

He was in love with Buffy. And that love was like a bullet to his chest.  That love was going to break him down until he was nothing more than what his mother had become…cold, sad and lonely.

 

Buffy watched the play of emotions on his face, the dawning of something he did not want to see and the stark fear that knowledge created.

 

She slipped her arm out of his hold that had become slack as he stared blankly into her eyes. She reached up and cupped his cheek.

 

“I’m sorry your father was a cold hearted bastard and I’m sorry that your mother was treated so heartlessly but love doesn’t have to be that way. It doesn’t have to be painful and full of heartbreak. It can be beautiful and wonderful. Being in love does not make you weak.” Her eyes searched his face, her voice hitching with the deep emotion that she felt. “Please Angelus, let me in, don’t be afraid to feel for me.”

 

He heard her words but his drunken, pain-filled mind could not wrap around it.  He refused to end up like his mother. He refused to let himself become pathetic and defenseless. He refused to be in love.

 

His hands dropped from her arms, and he took a step back.  “It doesn’t matter. Because I don’t love you. I am not in love with you.”

 

Hearing the words broke her heart but she knew, more than ever before, that the only person he was trying to convince was himself.

 

“Yes you are,” she quietly retorted.

 

He looked at her, the smirk on his face cruel. “Let’s get something straight Buff, the only thing I want from you is to fuck you and that’s it. “

 

She knew he was stubborn but now he was just being stupid.  She was angry with his denial, angry with his abject refusal to truly see that what he was feeling was more than just lust.

 

“You’re so full of shit!” She told him and his expression darkened ominously. “If that’s all you care about than what was all that crap you pulled at the restaurant? What’s with all the jealous shit?”

 

“You’re the second person tonight to say that to me. I was not jealous. I just don’t like to share my fuck toys!” he sneered at her.

 

He expected to wound her instead he only made her retaliation worse.

 

“You know you can delude yourself all you fucking want but I know the truth!  You’re in love with me. You just can’t admit it!”

 

He stood there staring at her, his chest rising and falling with agitation yet she continued to antagonize him.

 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Angelus McBain ran away with his tail in between in legs because of something he was…feeling.”

 

If it were possible his face turned even murkier, murderous, but Buffy didn’t care.

 

“God, you are either the most stubborn, stupid-ass man I know or you really have no fucking clue what the hell it is you’re feeling.”

 

She walked up to him, her finger jabbing him in the chest with every word she spoke.

 

“You don’t know what being in love feels like because you never felt it and you’re too afraid to face what you’re feeling now. I know because I can see it.  I feel it. I’m not afraid to say it…I’m in lo…”

 

His hand slapped against her mouth, his face a mask of fury. “DON’T…Don’t say it Buff. Don’t get stuck in that delusional world. What you feel for me is lust, that’s it. That’s all.”

 

They stared at each other as silent seconds ticked by. She wanted to say so much more, she wanted to show him what being in love really felt like. But the cold hard stare that shone back at her would not accept her words, would not even accept what was in his own heart.

 

He spun away from her abruptly and headed toward the door, opening it up.

 

“Forget it. Forget I ever came over. Just forget everything, fuck who ever you want it’s none of my business.”

 

He walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

She walked over to the window and pushed the curtain aside, watching his stiff angry body storm across the street and into his house. The door remained open and five minutes later he reappeared. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, slung low on his hips and another bottle of whiskey in his hand. He slammed his door shut and then stormed down the block toward Owen’s.

 

She stepped away from the window and sat down on the sofa. That hadn’t gone well…at all.  But she wasn’t surprised.

 

Angelus was not the type of man that you could just walk up to and say I love you and expect an answer in return.  He was a complicated man. Stubborn and head strong, he was convinced that love did not exist, and if it did, it was only for the weak minded. 

 

After the display of emotions he showed her tonight she knew that he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was feeling. That’s why he was so angry. He was confused and perhaps even a bit scared, and he was most adamant about not being in love because he thought love made you weak. 

 

She stood up, sighing deeply troubled with the knowledge of what she had to do. 

 

Climbing the stairs to her bedroom she drew her shoulders back. It would be manipulative but she didn’t care.  Daft men had to be dealt with in less than honorable ways because they were too stupid to see something so simple.

 

Reaching the second level, she untied her dress and let it fall to the floor. She took off her bra and panties and then walked naked to her closet where she pulled out a black satin robe.  She put it on and then sat in the chair by the window.  She gazed out and down the block at Owen’s.  She’d give him an hour to chill out but that was it. Tonight the games would stop.

 

 

********************

 

 

Sitting in the hot tub at Owen’s, Angelus leaned back against the tiled wall, his arms outstretched against the cool granite pavers, an open bottle of Jameson Whiskey in one hand, the other tightly fisted and rapidly tapping the stone pavers in a ragged motion.

 

Closing his eyes, he tilted the bottle back and raised it to his lips again, drinking slow, savoring the smooth whiskey as it coated his throat.  He loved Whiskey. It was pure and untainted. It was warm and it was always there for you. It never hindered your thoughts with things that totally stumped you. It wasn’t confusing. It was simple and he liked simple.

 

Unlike women.

 

He snorted, women use to be simple too but lately nothing seemed simple anymore.  Even his once steady and impartial emotions were now ragged and misplaced.  He didn’t know if he was coming or going anymore. Which side was up and which side was down?  Everything and nothing made sense all at the same time.

 

It was God damn confusing.

 

But therein lay the problem that had been nagging him for days.  Bedding Buffy had been the most singularly dissimilar experience he had ever felt, nothing was the same with her as it had been with his previous lovers. Even the desire felt different.  It was so much more palpable, stronger. The craving he had for her flowed through his veins right alongside his blood.  To touch her, to sink himself deep inside her body had become something that he had to have, and then, like air not entering his lungs, not having it was suffocating him.

 

The truth was that being with Buffy made all of his other liaisons bogus and trivial.  He could sit here all night long trying to recall just one memorable evening with another women and he would come up with nothing.  She had completely wiped his memory clean of any other women but her and that was extremely troubling. 

 

Taking another drink, he scowled shaking his head see…nothing was simple anymore. And no matter how hard he tried to set her aside in his mind, no matter how many women he tried to slake his lust in, it didn’t make a difference. He just could not shake any of these blasted confusing emotions when it came to Buffy Summers.  She was all he felt, she was all he saw, she was the only woman in the world that he wanted, the only woman that could appease the hunger burning inside of him. And frankly, it was the scariest thing in the fucking world. 

 

Fuck!

 

Why him?  Why did he have to suffer such an affliction?  This was never supposed to be his fate!  He was supposed to go through life enjoying the pleasures of the flesh with no attachments, no remorse! Not be pussywhipped by one single female.

 

He should have fought her pull harder. He should have walked out of that house and not looked back. But he didn’t. He let his lust get the better of him. Three years of building his defenses against his hunger for her, three fucking years of self discipline and control all gone to shit in the span of about five minutes and a pair of smoky green eyes.

 

He heard the faint sound of the gate opening and then clicking shut, looking up he frowned.

 

Ah, and here she comes now, the blight to my manhood.

 

Buffy kept her eyes on Angelus as she walked slowly through the yard.

 

Sitting in the hot tub, his naked wet chest charismatically slick under the soft glow of the patio lights was a setting straight out of a porn movie and her heart started to pound as her mind set the scene; her straddling him and taking him inside her body. Riding him slow and steady and showing him what being in love was all about. 

 

She continued her appraisal of him trying to gage his mood. He was holding on to that bottle of Whiskey as if his life depended upon it and he was looking at her with guarded, wary eyes.

 

The mistrust she read on his face cut her to the bone. How odd that a man who lived his life one woman at a time was afraid of what she made him feel.  She understood where that fear came from and she didn’t blame him for it but that didn’t lessen the pain she felt from it.

 

It was funny though, no matter how unsure he looked he was still the most intimidating man she ever knew. 

 

She swallowed feeling her own nerves prickle her with their fickleness.  He was so consumed with his own fear that he never once stopped to consider how hard this was for her too.  He had no idea of the power he held over her.  How with just a word from that sardonic mouth he could either make her feel like the most valued woman in the world or like a stupid little girl. He could crush her world in a matter of minutes and he wasn’t even aware of it.  For her there was nothing she was more aware of than that but she didn’t care. She wanted him and she would fight for what she wanted, no matter the cost.

 

“I don’t want to argue with you anymore Buffy. I’m tired, I’m drunk, and I don’t think I can control my actions right now.”

 

He did sound tired but she would not let this rest.

 

She dropped her towel on the lounge chair by his. Then her feet carried her to the edge of the hot tub where sat down on the cool pavers across from him. Putting her legs in the warm water she spoke softly to him. “Maybe I don’t care if you’re in control or not.”

 

“You should.”

 

His voice was low and filled with antagonism as his eyes gleamed dangerously at her, but she wasn’t afraid. She knew he would not hurt her. And there was no way he was going to scare her off, which is exactly what he was trying to do.

 

“You know, being in love isn’t a nice little organized package that makes sense Angelus. It’s crazy, it’s confusing, and it’s never in control. It’s not supposed to be.”

 

He sighed and looked away from her. “Christ, you’re not going to let that go are you?”

 

“No. Because it’s what you feel for me, you just can’t admit it.”

 

 “There you go again, assuming you know how I feel.” He took a drink, his thoughts running a mile a minute in a thousand different directions. 

 

She just shrugged at him, her legs slowly swaying back and forth in the water. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Can I stop you?” He asked right before he took another swig.

 

She smiled softly at his belligerent tone.  “If you’re not in love with me, then why does the idea of me sleeping with Perry bother you so much?”

 

Fuck, did she have to bring that up again!

 

The question once more created the vilest of feelings inside, feelings that he still was not ready to buck up too. So he tempered his anger and looked at her as casually and unperturbed as he possibly could. 

 

“Because I’m your friend and when all is said and done, Perry is just a player looking to get laid. I know that’s not what you’re looking for. So as your friend, I’m looking out for you and that’s it.”

 

He stressed the word friend twice yet she knew it was not for her benefit. He was telling himself. Like the more he said it the more it would be true. 

 

Yup…there really is no man on this planet more infuriatingly stubborn as Angelus McBain…

 

Breathe Buffy, just breath…

 

Alright so he wanted to play the friend card, fine, let’s be friends.

 

“So what you feel for me is just friendship.”

 

He shrugged his answer then quickly looked away from her. She smiled wickedly as she continued.

 

“I’m sorry I misinterpreted your feelings, my bad.”

 

He grunted.

 

“So if we’re friends than I guess I can talk to you about tonight because there’s something that’s been bothering me.”

 

He snorted disdainfully, “What Perry wasn’t a good fuck?”

 

Shit, like I really want to know the answer to that question. Way to go dickhead!

 

She smiled at him, coyly, mysteriously, and in his eyes there was a spark of tension as he waited to hear her answer.

 

“Oh, well Perry was…”

 

She let her voice fade off and her eyes modestly float down to stare into the water, sticking in a brief poignant pause to draw his tension out. After a few seconds she looked back up at him, that coy smile still perched on her lips.

 

“…very good.”

 

His eyes flared with anger and resentment, his shoulders stiffened just a bit more as he turned away from her taking another long pull from the bottle.

 

It was weird to see him so out of sorts and over something as irrelevant as his emotions, well at least that’s how he would see it.  She should probably feel bad for him but she just couldn’t muster any sympathy. Instead it thrilled her to the core of her being to know that she a mere insignificant woman could be the cause of so much anger and deep emotion in such a strong virile male.

 

She felt so powerful in that moment of his anxiety that she had the evil idea to draw it out more and enjoy it. Let him know how it feels to see someone you have feelings for be with someone else. It would suit him right considering his insensitive track record with women.

 

Still she couldn’t do it. They always had an honest relationship, just because the scope of that relationship had changed – which she really hoped that it did – didn’t mean that that honesty should stop, on the contrary it should thrive.

 

Her smile faded and she looked back down into the water as she swung her feet. “But, I didn’t sleep with him.”

 

His gaze swung to hers, sharply, disbelieve evident in his brown orbs.  “You didn’t?”

 

She shook her head, “no. I mean we started, you know, fooling around. And he felt good, he has really amazing hands and when he touched my…”

 

Okay so I can’t resist dragging it out just a bit longer…

 

A big hand was thrust up into the air, halting her from saying anything else as disturbing as that.  “Buffy,”

 

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “Yeah?”

 

“I really don’t need to know specifics.”  His voice was tight, his lips drawn together in consternation, and his eyes revealed the precarious emotions rolling through him.

 

She held back her smile and kept her gaze clear and questioning. “Oh, I’m sorry, you know you’re my friend and well that’s what friends do you know, they talk about their dates. So I just figured that…”

 

He cut her off, cold and sharply.  “You figured wrong.  I don’t need to know about it.” 

 

He looked away, taking another drink, a nice long comforting pull.

 

I really, really, really, don’t need to know about!

 

“Oh okay.  Well anyway, you know we were laying there on his bed, and he was on top of me and he was just about ready to…”

 

His gaze swung back to hers sharply, his eyes were definitely black now and he wasn’t even hiding the raw fury that he was certainly feeling. He rigidly shook his head at her, his eyes blazing with retribution if she said one more word about how close she had gotten to Perry.

 

She actually shivered from that promised look but then she shook it off and jumped ahead to the end of her story.

 

“…but I stopped him and came home.”

 

He inclined his head slightly, a simple sign of gratitude that she had not finished the tale. Gratefulness quickly passed though as his eyes turned confused and his brow furrowed.

 

“If you were…enjoying it…then why did you leave?”

 

She noted the strain in his voice and held back her grin of triumph.  She looked around the backyard, totally and purposefully avoiding his gaze. “Because I realized that I’m not like you.”  Then her eyes met his, starkly. “I can’t sleep with someone I’m not in love with.”

 

He grunted again and then silence elapsed as they both quietly sat.  Angelus looked anywhere but at her, trying to sort out everything he was feeling, like the relief he felt knowing she didn’t sleep with Perry. But what occupied his most fevered thoughts was what she said in the house. 

 

It was true; he really didn’t know what it felt like to be in love.  His mother had shown him that love was pain and heartache while his father’s actions said love was cruel and uncaring.   A far cry from what he felt. 

 

He looked over at her, she sat there quietly her pensive gaze on her finger that was moving back and forth through the bubbles, and one word bellowed in his head…MINE. It was a fierce inner declaration that was merciless in its strength and resolve.  It was dark and possessive, a violent fanatical need to have her at any cost that made him feel unbalanced and out of control.  What he felt was chaos and turmoil, not warmth and tenderness, and the strength of those emotions scared him and puzzled him.

 

He didn’t get it. How could emotions as primitive and dark as these be love?  Was he missing something? Was there more to it than the rampant feelings that he had?

 

His thoughts found there way to his mouth and before he knew what the hell he was doing, he was voicing them. “How do you know?” He softly asked.

 

“How do I know what?”

 

“How do you know when you’re in love?”

 

She smiled at him, her eyes softly held his. He was curious.  Which was good because it meant that he was looking at what he felt and ultimately that’s all she wanted, for him to acknowledge his feelings and not be afraid of them.

 

But how did one explain love?  It wasn’t really something tangible that you could grasp in your hand and feel. It was soulful and spiritual; it was something that just…was.

 

She shrugged her shoulder speaking just as softly as he had. “It’s different for everyone I’m sure. But…”

 

As she stared into his eyes she realized there was one way for her to explain it. All she had to do was tell him how she felt and how he made her feel, but words would not do the trick. He was a man that needed to feel something, to touch something in order to believe in it.  There was only one way to explain being in love to Angelus McBain.

 

With absolutely no shame, she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. Perching her chin in her palms, she let her robe fall open giving him exactly what she knew he wanted…an unobstructed view of naked breasts. Watching as his eyes left hers and strayed downward to her chest, the clout that she had felt before returned, empowering her actions and validating her decision. 

 

The break in her words brought his gaze back to hers, which was exactly where she wanted him when she finished saying what she had to say.

 

“…when I look at the man I’m in love with, I feel…”

 

She took a deep breath, letting her eyes slowly close as her voice dropped another octave.

 

“…short of breath.”

 

She opened her eyes then to see him watching her with heated wonder and intensity. His gaze was fuel to the fire and she held it…never wavering, never faltering with the love and desire that she hoped shone through as she continued. 

 

“The longer I look at him, the shorter it becomes, the harder it is to breathe until it feels like I can’t breathe at all.” 

 

She slid into the warm bubbling water, the black robe floating all around her like a beautiful shroud of darkened sensuality, splitting open and revealing naked beauty in all of its perfect glory.  Her arms lifted and she pulled the ponytail ribbon off her hair.  Waves upon beautiful waves of honey blonde hair fell all around her in a wicked enticing picture of pure sex.

 

His own breath became ragged as he watched her step into the tub like a water nymph straight out of his sexual fantasies. How many times had he dreamt of this exact scenario? Too many times to count, that’s for sure, except this reality differed from the fantasy.

 

The fantasy was all about sex, hot, heavy, turbulent passionate sex, his body plundering hers.  Yet the reality was the complete opposite. It wasn’t all about sex, though that was ever present.  It was more than that. Oh, it was seduction; no doubt about it.  She was playing on his lustful weakness for her to keep his attention but it was also a seduction of a different kind, one that was not just physical.  It was mental and he felt it. It felt like she was weaving a web of – love? - around his soul.

 

His ears soaked in every word she said and so far he could relate wholeheartedly with her description.  He often felt like he couldn’t breathe when he was around her.  A spark of optimism filled his weary mind.  

 

He knew what she was going to say in the house before he stopped her, and while he desperately needed to believe that she loved him he found it hard to do so. The question had plagued him as to how someone as wholesome and morally correct as Buffy could love a degenerate like him.  But her words turned that around and he prayed to the almighty God that it was him she was talking about and no one else.

 

She was an arms length away and he ached to reach out and touch her. Pull her into his embrace and take her, show her how volatile his emotions were. How unlike love they were. 

 

He let go of the alcohol crutch he had been leaning on and pushed it away.  His hand gripped the edge of the tub to keep from touching her. He was afraid to unleash the savageness that coursed through him, afraid of hurting her.

 

Buffy was oblivious to his boiling emotions.  Oh she read the hunger in his eyes, and she saw how they screamed at her to stay away, to run from the danger that lurked beneath.  But she could no longer run.  She could only go forward.

 

“Looking at him takes my breath away. Every part of my body is on edge, waiting, excited, so…hot and ready for him to touch me.”

 

His hands gripped the cold stone edge of the tub.  Her words affirmed the truth of how he felt and the many questions that he had now seemed inaccurately stupid. 

 

She took another step, her leg hit his knees and they automatically spread open for her as she stepped up and stood in between them. 

 

“It’s beautiful and feels so innocent and right, but it’s confusing too because there’s more to it than that, there’s something that lurks right beneath it.  It’s this desperate feeling that if I can’t see him, if I can’t talk to him or touch him, that I’ll die.  God, it’s so hungry and dark and deeply aggressive that sometimes I don’t know who I am. I lose track of myself because all I can think of, all I feel is this burning need for him.”

 

His eyes widened with stunned recognition and he shook his head, his confusion tugging at her heart. “But it feels so…” he started to say.

 

“Wrong?” she finished his sentence and he looked at her nodding his head.

 

“I know, you think to yourself that everything you’re feeling is so powerful and wicked, like it desecrates everything love is supposed to be about. But it’s not.  It’s everything that it should be.  When you love it should be powerful, it should be passionate to the point where you feel lost without the other.”

 

She laid her hands on his chest, her fingers stroking him soothingly as her eyes held his gaze.  Her touch was sweet and tender, it was meant to comfort him and give him some sort of peace with what he felt, and it did.

 

Unexpected tenderness filled him but it was not alone, it smoothly mixed with the violent need that thrived inside of him. That should have increased his bewilderment but it didn’t.  Instead the two conflicting emotions enflamed him with a sense of empowerment and a deep seated avidity. 

 

He was consumed by warmth and a sense of completion.  The lust that was always there burned just as hot but felt curiously more collective. It was like they fed each other, one complimenting the other and creating something more powerful than just lust.   It was something he had never in his life felt before and it felt good. No, it was better than good it was amazing and it felt…right.

 

He wanted more. 

 

Desperate to learn more of this incredible emotion called love, his hands tentatively released his grip and slowly he reached for her. He was still unsure if he could control these new soothing- yet still just as fiery - emotions he was feeling but he was unable to resist touching her anymore.

 

“Do you know how I know its right?”

 

Her sultry voice continued as she asked her question. He shook his head, his hands finally resting on her waist, his fingers slowly stroking her belly.

 

Her breath increased and her voice was husky and low…needful.

 

“Because when he does, when he finally touches me, air enters my body filling it with life. It’s like a thousand little bolts of electricity searing me inside and out.  The world around me disappears and only he exists.”

 

He kept his gaze on her face, watching as her head lolled back the moment his hands touched her skin.  When she looked back at him the reflection in her eyes was a mix of heat and what he now recognized as love. His heart swelled, his hands gripped her harder, the need to be inside of her almost overwhelming him.

 

Buffy smiled at him and placed her hands on his shoulders she lifted her left knee and slid it around his waist, resting it on the seat in which he sat. Then just as deftly she did the same with her right, openly groaning when she realized that like her, he was totally naked.

 

She straddled him and his hot throbbing manhood was only inches away from her opening heat. Angelus moaned, it was loud and it was full of all the raw and honest emotions that he felt for her. 

 

Shrugging her shoulders she let her robe slide down her arms, it landed in the water then floated behind her. She reached down and grabbed his shaft, wrapping her hand around his girth, she slowly started to pump his length watching his face as his head dipped back, his eyes closed, and his breath raggedly left sensual lips that were now partially opened. She licked her own, wanting to taste him but she held back. She wasn’t done yet.

 

Lifting herself up she placed him at the entrance to her body, slowly she sat down, taking him inside her.  When he felt the incredible heat of her body enveloping his needy shaft his breath hissed as his hands impatiently dug into her waist. It was so divinely torturous he wanted to scream.

 

“This is how I know its right.  Because when I finally take him inside of me, I feel consumed, branded by his heat, possessed by his hard sure strokes, and there is nothing…”

 

She slid further down his cock…

 

 “…nothing…”

 

…further still…

 

“…that I want more…”

 

She sat down fully embedding him inside of her, her own eyes closed, her own voice whining with the sense of completion that she felt.

 

“…than to be his…only his.”

 

Her lids lifted and she peered at him. “Angelus, look at me.”

 

Obeying her steamy call, his head lifted and his eyes opened.

 

“Do you feel that?”

 

She slowly rotated her hips, moving his hardness inside of her in one smooth circular motion.

 

“Do you feel how my body opens for you, accepts you?”

 

Fuck, do I ever...

 

It was as it always was whenever he was inside of her…perfect. 

 

He could only nod a response, his reaction to her inhibiting any other form of communication. He was too wrapped up in the perfection that was her…the perfection of what she created inside of him. Way too stunned by the strength and ferocity of things that he had no control over yet now all just felt so…right.

 

She seemed to sense that he had come to terms with what he felt and she smiled at him with love in her eyes. Her hand lifted and she cupped his cheek as she continued to slowly stroke his flesh with her heat. 

 

He leaned into her palm, his lips bestowing a cherished tender kiss to her flesh as she continued to speak.  

 

“That’s how I feel when I look at you, when you touch me.  That’s love Angelus. That’s what I feel for you, what I need from you. It’s what you feel for me, what you want from me.”

 

Her sultry words rained over his body like a wicked waterfall of poetic eroticism.  Every word was accentuated with a sharp jab to his soul. 

 

There was only her.

 

There had only ever been her.

 

“Milsean…”

 

His voice hoarse with emotion - elated wonder and joy – as he spoke the pet name in hushed tones that were reverent and full of conscious amazement.

 

With a smile of pure rapture on her face she slowly moved back up his length, and then at an agonizing snails pace, slid back down.

 

“Can you give that to me Angelus?”

 

He placed both hands on her face as his eyes drenched hers with clarity and understanding, yet a frisson of fear remained in that chocolate gaze and she understood it.

 

“You don’t think your worthy of love but you are.”

 

She continued with her tormenting measured taking of his body into hers, as they held each other’s gaze.  He was spellbound by the emotion he saw in those green orbs. Deep and desirous, true and binding, it seared him to his core. 

 

“Let me in. Let me give you every part of myself. Give me…every part of you. I want you…all of you, the good, the bad, everything…”

 

Her voice suddenly hardened, her strokes of his flesh remained taunting and slow yet turned demandingly punishing.

 

“I want it all.”

 

He could no longer hold back what he felt, no longer delude himself into thinking that what he felt was nothing but lust for this beautiful amazing woman, when everything she said sang to him, made him feel stronger than he had ever felt before in his life. 

 

He was in love with her and the need to express that love barreled over him in the form of adrenaline rushing into his body, filling his veins with blood, sparking his soul to life with so much excitement that he felt as if he was going to burst at the seams.

 

With a sense of urgency his hold on her face became controlling as he brought her close to his. His mouth hovered just above hers as he held her gaze, his own, now strong and sure, potent and demanding yet just as giving as hers.

 

“So do I.”

 

On a cry of fevered ecstasy from her lips he covered her mouth, possessively, plundering her with the intent to brand, to own, to complete himself with her taste that was pure love and free adoration.

 

The moment he did, he felt something inside of him open; the strokes of her body on his flesh took on a different meaning. It was no longer just about satisfying his unquenchable lust for her it was about consuming her, becoming one with her. And as he let him self acknowledge her love and accept her reverence, sex became something more, it became…making love.

 

She moved faster now, her pace quickening as her body began its plunge into the deepest darkest pits of her passion.  His declaration sent her into a lustful, needful frenzy and her motions became frantic, her legs shaking with every up stroke of his cock as she sought desperately for the fulfillment that only his body and his love, could give her. 

 

He hissed with strain as her legs strongly squeezed his own, trembling with every succulent stroke she made. He placed his hands on her waist and helped her ride him with steadier strokes.

 

Reluctantly their mouths pulled apart so their bodies could draw in the breath they needed but they remained close. Drifting ever so close, their eyes locked on to one another as their heavy pants mingled together like an aria of harmonious rapture.

 

“Tell it to me again Angelus.”  She whispered to him.

 

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Tell you what Milsean?”

 

“The poem, the one from the restaurant, I want to hear it again.”

 

His smile was carnal and seductive as he kissed the other corner of her mouth.  He opened his mouth and started to speak. The first word of the poem filled her ears with his rich voice and the Scottish Gaelic that he spoke but she stopped him with a kiss that left him breathless and forever made him her slave.

 

“No, in English.”

 

He smiled again and then gave her what she wanted.

 

“Lay down on your pillow
and turn the lights down low
let me take you to the garden
where the passion flower grows”

 

She smiled back at him, her heart pumping wildly in her chest. The words more beautiful to her now than before and she let them wash over her with just as much passion and exhilaration as they had at the restaurant.

“Close your eyes and enter dreams
as love's emotion sets the scene
and flitters through the garden
where the passion flower grows”

Touch the tender petals
of the flower as she grows
a tentative endeavour
as your feelings overflow

Let me draw you to the place
where ecstasy can be embraced
the beauty of the garden
where the passion flower grows

Feel your mind exploding
in the heavy scented air
experience the shiver
as your captured unaware

A little touch of heaven
where imagination flows
the valley in the garden
where the passion flower grows.”

With every word he spoke her strokes became smoother and faster, until the last word was spoken and her world exploded erupting all around him in gushing waves of hot creaminess. The words that she had been wanting to express freely flying from her lips with no barriers to hold them back.

 

“I love you Angelus!”

 

Hearing her declaration, feeling her body soak him with its honeyed hot pleasure, enticed his passions, raising the degree of need to a violent level of intoxicating hunger. But he fought it, it took every once of control that he had to not give in to it. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want the exquisite sensations to stop. He wanted more, needed more. 

 

With his hands on her hips, her head thrown back in blinding ecstasy, he lifted her up and then slammed her back down as he raised his hips meeting her in the middle, thrusting wildly inside of her, coating his cock further and deeper in her essence. 

 

He didn’t know how long he plunged himself inside of her or how long she rocked deliciously against him as her body fiercely convulsed over and over again, he only knew that he couldn’t hold back anymore.  He was going to cum and he was going to cum hard.

 

Beneath the breathtaking emotions that were searing her soul and numbing her body into a pleasant state of blissfulness, Buffy felt the pressure building inside of him, she felt his cock swell and thicken inside her sheath.  Instinctively or because it was what she wanted as well, she smiled wickedly then grabbed his hair and yanked his head toward hers. She bit his lip, hungrily, drawing out a ravaged growl of acceptance and yearning from his lips, then she licked it soothingly as she spoke the words that he never in his life thought he would ever hear.

 

“Angelus…come inside me.”

 

Afterward when his body was still and deaden from the wracking pleasure that would tear through him like a knife from his utterly fulfilling release, he would question his sanity. Question her motives. But not now, now his lust controlled him; now the need to fully and wholly label her as his was an enslaved animal set free. 

 

He gripped her hips, plunged her down onto his cock, and with a cry of incredible jubilation he let go. 

 

Buffy rocked against him, holding his head to her breasts as his mouth latched on to a hardened nipple and his body shook uncontrollably, spilling his warm thick seed inside of her.  There were no words to express what she felt in that moment, nothing that would serve any justice to it all. It simply was…perfect.

 

After long moments of two bodies moving slowly as one, his hands flexed against her back, his tongue gave a long leisurely lick to her nipple as he looked up at her.

 

The emotion that she saw in those eyes touched her in a place she never knew existed. She wasn’t like him, she had always believed in love, she had always known she was capable of giving and receiving love, yet the amount of adoration that gleamed in his eyes like bubbling chocolate took her breath away.  She’d never known love could be like this.

 

He smirked at her, feeling pretty amazing himself, and her eyes widened from the renewed tingles of passion that were once more spiking her senses.

 

God, will I ever have enough of him?

 

His hand rose and feathered through her long locks, enchanted with their softness and captivated by their beguiling wildness as they fell all around her face.  The mix of innocent and seductress was never more flagrant as it was now in that moment of relaxed afterglow.

 

“That was very underhanded of you, manipulating me with your body.” He said his voice light and playful.

 

She grinned at him; her smile was full of pride and not shame. “Yeah but that’s why you’re in love with me.”

 

The minute she said it, her smile faltered, it suddenly occurred to her that he had not spoken the words that she longed to hear.  Instantly the fear returned but this time it was far worse, because this time she had indeed put herself out there and she could do nothing now but wait.

 

His stare turned pensive as his hands stroked her face but he said nothing. Those long agonizing moments of silence were the worst in Buffy's life. But when he finally spoke, his voice was soft but sure, and with every word he said it became stronger and more assured.

 

"I am in love with you Buffy. More than I ever thought was possible. "

 

Dreaded breath left her body as happy relief filled it.

 

"I…I don't know if I could ever really make you understand how much I want you, all of you. I'm not sure I understand it myself. But I can't deny it. All the things you just said, it's how I feel when I look at you. Touch you."

 

He smiled bashfully into her eyes that were glistening with happy tears yet unshed. That smile was incredibly sexy on a face that never once revealed such vulnerability.  

 

Feeling like her heart was going to burst she leaned forward and kissed him languidly on the mouth, lightly tracing his lip with her tongue, as her hands raked up and down his back giving him reassurance that what he was saying was pleasing her greatly.

 

"I knew you were in love with me. I was just giving you the chance to see it for yourself before I told you." She saucily replied.

 

He grinned back at her, adjusting his seat, he shifted lifting her slightly in the process so he could smack her on the ass. "Brat." But then his tone turned serious again as he held her gaze. "Buffy you know I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing in all of this. I'll probably make a ton of mistakes, piss you off in the process, and be a complete and utter ass along the way."

 

"So, in other words, nothing's changed." She smiled sweetly at him and he chuckled. "See, love doesn't have to change you. You can still be the same arrogant ass of a man that you were before."

 

His warm chuckle continued as he looked in to her eyes. "I guess so."

 

They sat there in the tub, bodies together as one, hands caressing and exploring as if they never touched before. Each touch felt different, more alive and real, more meaningful.  As he sat there totally soaking in her presence he felt his Johnson stir again, twitching hungrily inside of her, he wanted…no, he needed more.  But the hot tub would not do. She had shown him what love felt like to her now it was time for him to show her what it felt like to him. He needed to take her properly, in a bed, and preferably with her tied to it so he could ravage her to his lust’s content.  He was probably going to freak her out.

 

Better she know now how nefarious I can be.

 

Of course the more he thought about it, the more excited he got, but then he also remembered what he just let happen.

 

"Buffy?"

 

"Mmm?"

 

"Do I need to worry about what just happened here?" 

 

It surprised even him how light and unconcerned that question came out of his mouth.  The thought of getting a woman pregnant use to terrify him.  For some reason, it didn't anymore. If he had to wait a month to find out, then so be it. Coming inside of her was the most quintessential enlightenment and the most fucking fantastical feeling he had ever felt; a few weeks of anxiety would be well worth it.

 

She straightened and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean, am I going to be walking around wondering for the next month whether or not you're pregnant?"

 

She grinned and then wiggled her ass, stirring him to life even more. "Oh. No. I saw my doctor yesterday and had him put me back on birth control."

 

"The pill takes a week to become effective Buffy."

 

Her eyebrow lifted as she looked at his waiting face. "It should probably disturb me that you know that, well if I didn't know you that is." Her grin widened. "Don't worry, I'm not on the pill, it's the Implant it works right away."

 

I hope.

 

He looked like he wasn't quite sure if he believed her or not. "Oh, okay.” 

 

"Do you mean to tell me, that you, the player of all players, have never heard of the Implant." She teased.

 

He shrugged, "I'm a Trojan man."

 

"You mean you were a Trojan man," she cheekily answered and his eyes darkened with dangerous hunger.

 

Was…was a Trojan man.  Was - being the stimulating word here. Was - created delicious images in his head of him coming inside of her night after scrumptious night.

 

Shit, he had to get started. There was a lot of catching up to do.

 

"Hold on Milsean." 

 

She did what he said, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he stood up and stepped out of the tub, stopping so she could pick up her soaked and now ruined robe.

 

"Where are we going?"

 

"My house." Was his rough reply.

 

His answer troubled her slightly, her old fear jumping to the forefront of her brain. He had shared his bed with countless women and now he would share it with her. Would it be different for him?  Would she be able to have sex with him in that bed, knowing how many came before her?

 

"Do we have to go to your house?"

 

Her voice was small and a bit meek – so unlike Buffy.

 

He stopped when he reached the lounge chair where their towels were. Relaxing his hold on her, she unwound her legs and stood on her own as he reached down and grabbed both towels. Wrapping one around her naked body, he wrapped the other around his waist.

 

 "What's wrong with my house?"

 

She shrugged, "Nothing's wrong with it, it's just that well…you've had so many…other…"

 

Brining it up made her nervous because she didn't want to be a nag and she knew how much he hated that.  She had battled his inner demons tonight for his love and she didn't want to turn him off because she couldn't shake her irrational jealously.

 

Dawning lit his eyes as she continued to stumble and search for the right words to say. A smirk of male appreciation lit his face. He reached for her and pulled her tightly into his embrace.

 

"Are you saying that you don't want to share my bed because of the other women that have?"  His warm eyes danced with delight as he looked down into her face.

 

She blushed as she nodded. His smile broadened as he warmly chuckled. "So I'm not the only one that has sharing issues."

 

She shook her head dismally, her own thoughts blocking out his response. "I know you don't do clingy and I'm sorry for even bringing it up but I…"

 

His hands splayed across her ass and he squeezed her cheeks as he held her tightly against him. He kissed her hungrily and when he pulled back she was flushed from excitement not embarrassment.

 

"Buff, when it comes to you…I do clingy, in fact I want clingy." 

 

"Are you sure? I mean, I know this is all new for you and I don't want to put pressure on you or anything like that by being a jealous ninny."

 

He kissed her again to silence her concerns. "It is new to me, true, but I don't feel any pressure.  Which actually amazes me a bit but not in a freaky way in a good way."

 

Which was totally true. He was truly surprised at just how un-freaked he was. In fact it had the complete opposite effect on him. Instead of annoying him it made him feel…taken and owned…loved, and that felt better then he ever expected it to.

 

He lifted his hand and ran it through her hair, smiling at her as his eyes caressed hers. "Buffy, I love the fact that you care enough about me to be jealous.  But I don't think you're being a jealous ninny at all. I know I've had a lot of lovers in the past and I know that is hard for you to deal with, so I don't blame you for feeling the way you do." His voice lowered, becoming deeper and softer, yet rough with emotion. "Milsean, the truth is since the moment we kissed Saturday night it's been only you."

 

Smart man…keep that one pitiful excuse of a bar fuck to yourself…mmm…maybe I do have a grip on this whole relationship thing after all.

 

"You're the only woman that has occupied my thoughts."

 

His words sent her heartbeat into the danger zone. She smiled demurely at him, "Really? What about that brunette at the Lounge tonight? It looked like you were…enjoying her company."

 

He snorted disdainfully, "Buff, she was a no one. Besides, all I could think about was you leaving with Perry." His head tilted to the left as he pondered his next thoughts out loud. "I was out of my mind jealous." He shook is head. "Actually it was borderline psychotic." 

 

He looked back at her, smirking with mischief and the full smile that lit her face was like the sun warming his body.

 

"And I don't see that changing anytime in the near future, if at all. You're the one that's probably going to get tired of me being…clingy."

 

She leaned up and kissed him again, taking her time tasting him, softly chuckling as she did. "Mmm…I could never tire of that.  I like being the only woman you have eyes for and I love having you all to myself. "

 

Her words touched his heart the same way her mouth touched his shaft…explosively.  He clung to her hungrily as he returned her kiss hard and unyielding, his hands clenching her body securely into his.  She would have continued their mutual mauling but he pulled back and she mewled with the loss as her head dropped to his chest

 

"And I can never get enough of that either." She panted.

 

When she looked back up into his eyes, her heart stopped. They were dark and penetrating and the smirk on his face was pure wickedness. "I'm glad you feel that way because I have the distinct urge to show you what love feels like to me."

 

He kissed her forehead as she warmly laughed then he took her hand and led her out of the yard.

 

"Should I be concerned for my well being?" She sweetly asked.

 

He walked confidently though the yard and out the gate, stopping so that Buffy could close it. 

 

"Considering I've been denying myself the pleasures of your body and all the sinfully wicked things that I’ve wanted to do it for the past three years…then yeah, any sensible lass would."

 

The sound of his voice was menacing and deep…husky promises of showing her just how wicked his desire for her was, and his eyes…they made her shiver…dark and foreboding and brimming with lewd passion.

He anxiously pulled her along down the block and toward her house. She couldn't stop laughing because he was in such a rush.

 

"You know, I have to go to work tomorrow and you're drunk and you have practice. Don't you think we should sleep?" she teasingly asked.

 

He stopped short and spun around to face her, startling her.  "I've heard how troublesome women become once they snag their man.   Are you giving me trouble already?"

 

She grinned but didn't answer him she was too stupidly happy about that snagging their man part.

 

He is mine…Angelus McBain is my man!

 

He mockingly snorted and shook his head at her.  Then with lightening speed he grabbed her, lifted her off the ground, threw her over his shoulder, slapped her on the ass, and started walking again. "I can see I'm going to have my hands full with you. You're such an impudent brat."

 

She laughed then squealed as he bit her ass and carried her down the street and back to her house. She had the feeling she was in for a very long night.

 

YAY ME!

 

CLIMAX