Buffy Summers was simply going to die of embarrassment. For years, she’d been the subject of ridicule and mean jokes. She wasn’t popular, but she wasn’t a social leper, either. For some reason, though, people just loved picking on her. Maybe it was because she never said anything back. Maybe it was because she let them. But this took the cake. This moment would go down in history as the worst she’d ever had. They could all say whatever they wanted about her. They could even make her cry. But to bring her heart into it was just cruel.
She was waiting for Angel, her older brother, to pull his car around to the back of the school to pick her up when it happened. Their parents were out of town, which meant that Buffy could either walk home, or hope that her brother would be kind enough to give her a ride, but she wasn’t holding her breath.
He was a year older, a senior, and one of the most popular guys in school. He’d earned so many trophies from playing sports that the scholarship offers were practically flying at him left and right. It was infuriating that he barely had to try while Buffy spent years molding her GPA into perfection in the hopes of attending an Ivy League school.
Angel wasn’t often very nice to her in the company of his friends. He made fun of her constantly both at home and at school and it was rare that he ever eased up on her.
There were times though, and Buffy would cling to these memories for as long as she lived, but there were times when Angel’s bullying had come to an abrupt halt. It happened a few times in the past five years and those few times would be the catalyst for her innermost fantasies, the culmination of her teenage crush and the foundation of her obsession with William Pratt.
Where Angel was popular, William was beloved. Angel notoriously dated around and William turned down girl after girl who swooned and begged for him to take them to the movies or the school dances. Angel was big and bulky and William was lean and tan and muscled and had the best ass in the world and sometimes when he spoke his eyes would wrinkle just a bit and…he was so handsome, Buffy thought, like a Greek god with the devil’s mouth and she was absolutely in love with him. Because when Angel would make fun of her, William would put a stop to it. That was, on those few occasions he had been around to see it happen.
She clearly remembered the first time he’d come to her defense. Angel was being the typical older brother, making fun of her glasses and calling her a nerd in front of his soccer buddies. She tried to ignore him; focusing on her locker combination and wishing a hole would open up beneath her feet and swallow her up. But she’d started crying because he wouldn’t stop and then, the heavens opened! The clouds parted and the trumpets blared and the sun came out because at that very moment, the beautiful and sinuous tenor of William Pratt’s voice sounded out, saving her from complete and utter humiliation.
“Lay off, Angel,” he’d said. “Don’t be such a dick.”
Oh, they were gorgeous, those two sentences. However, they were in competition with what he said next, because William Pratt, the second most popular guy in school, put his hand on her shoulder. His warm, masculine hand. Then he leaned forward, so close she could feel his breath on her neck, and said, “Your brother is a douche bag. Don’t let him get to you.”
She turned around to thank him, but he was gone, frogging Angel in the shoulder and laughing about something as they all walked down the hall to get ready for their game. That was nearly five years ago. It was then that Buffy Summers decided that William Pratt would be her husband one day. They would go to school in Boston, get married, make hundreds of blue-eyed babies and live happily ever after. Buffy Pratt sounded so nice, didn’t it?
Insults and tears instantly forgotten, she snuck away to the bleachers to watch their game. She had no idea what the rules in soccer were, but it was the only sport William played, the only sport he had bragging rights for, the only sport he played better than Angel. And so, she would watch him play every single game for the next five years. He might have thought she came to give her brother support, but she came for him, came to watch him move like a pro on the field, as if he were born to play soccer. She’d watch him scream at the referee, run back and forth across the field, and dream about going shopping for Christmas trees together or decorating the gym for the school prom. Maybe he’d touch her hand as they rolled the streamers across the ceiling.
She sat in the very last seat on the highest row where no one else ever sat due to the bad view. But she could pick him out of a crowd with ease and due to her solitary location on the benches, should he ever look up, he’d see her. She thought maybe he had a few times, but she was too far away to tell.
One day, she would tell him thank you and she’d whip off her glasses and suddenly be beautiful like in those romance movies and he’d fall madly in love with her and he’d kiss her with tongue and everyone would be so jealous. For the time being, she’d settle for silent obsession and the few stolen moments they shared when he came over to hang out with Angel.
“Hey, Buffy,” he’d say with a heart-melting smile, bouncing a soccer ball from knee to knee.
“Hey, William,” she’d say quietly, hiding her blush as she tried not to look at him. He was so nice to her all the time. She wished she were brave enough to look at him when he spoke, to see that he was smiling for her.
“Got any soda?”
“Yeah,” she’d say with shy excitement and hand him one, chewing on her lip as she urged her body to stop fidgeting. He’d crack it open, chug it in three gulps, crush it with his hand and toss it in the trashcan.
He’d stand there for a minute, she’d stare at the floor and he’d finally say, “Well, I’m off.” Then he’d leave and she just knew that they were one step closer to marriage. She couldn’t hate her brother when he kept friends like William, friends that were constantly at her house, taunting her with their perfect lips and sculpted muscles and wrinkly smiles.
But she knew that if Angel ever found out about her crush, it would be the end of the world as she knew it. He’d never let it go. He’d probably find new and interesting ways to humiliate her, so she wisely kept mum about it. But Angel turned out not to be such a bad guy when he did find out.
And he had today, the day that would go down in history as being the most humiliating, awful, embarrassing moment of her life.
She was waiting for him at the back of the school to pick her up when Harmony Kendall and Cordelia Chase, the school bitches, came bounding around the corner towards her. Buffy ignored them, hoping they’d leave her alone but they hadn’t. She kept silent, closing her eyes as they started in on her.
“God, you’re such a loser. What are you wearing?”
“It looks like JC Penny…ten years ago.”
“Waiting for your mommy to pick you up?”
It was then that Angel’s car pulled up in front of them and he and William got out, unaware of what was going on. They were both in their soccer gear, covered in sweat from practice and Angel winked at Cordelia while William leaned against the car with a bored expression.
“Hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long, Buff,” Angel said.
“No, it’s ok.” She made her way to the backseat but before she could open the door, Cordelia opened her big, slutty mouth.
“Like she has anything better to do than write stupid love letters to William.”
Buffy’s eyes went wide and she felt her cheeks flush. Cordelia found her the week before writing “Buffy Pratt” over and over on a sheet of paper. She thought that maybe she hadn’t seen it because she’d stealthily crumpled it up into a ball in the nick of time, but she must have. William was only a few feet away and she wouldn’t dare look at him. He was probably about to vomit from finding out that the grossest girl at Sunnydale High had a big fat crush on him and there was no way in hell she’d raise her eyes to see that expression on his face. Oh, she was going to die, die, die! So she closed her eyes and prayed it would be over soon so she could cry her eyes out like the loser she was.
“Shut up, Cordy,” Angel said, much to Buffy’s surprise. She looked at her brother and noticed that he was furious. She’d never seen him angry on her behalf. “Don’t you have some herpes to spread?”
Cordy’s mouth dropped open in shock and Harmony giggled but Buffy’s gaze returned to the door handle. She heard her brother and Cordelia arguing, heard William’s name mentioned a few more times and she just knew that she was never going to live this down. Now that William knew and everyone else knew what a sappy loser she was, her life was officially over. She was going to die right there, at the age of seventeen without ever having been kissed or anything exciting ever happening to her other than the time she won the Mathletes competition last semester. And then she saw William’s hand in front of her, reaching out to open the car door for her. She gasped softly and looked up at him. He smiled slightly, a bead of sweat rolled down his brow and then he gestured for her to get in.
“I hate those bitches,” he said with a flattened hand against his cheek to hide the movement of his lips from the bitches in question. Oh, she could kiss him for hours and hours and hours.
“Yeah,” she barely managed to say, knowing her cheeks were bright red and he was inches away from her and holy crap, he had to know that she was desperately, madly in love with him. She got in the car, he shut the door for her, and she watched as he and Angel said something to Cordelia, though what, she couldn’t hear, and then they were both in the car and driving home. Angel looked at her in the rearview for a moment.
“So, William’s staying with us while Mom and Dad are gone. Don’t be a little bitch and tattle on me, ok?”
She wouldn’t grin. “No, I won’t tell.”
“Thanks for letting me stay with you,” William said over his shoulder with his perfect blue eyes shining in the sunlight. She would let him stay forever, was he kidding?
“Sure. Any, um…anytime.” She clutched her backpack. She was glad neither of them mentioned what Cordelia revealed. He smiled and turned around and as they drove to her house, she inhaled the fragrant smell of sweat and grass and pure boy and hoped that one day she could nuzzle his armpits.
Once she got home, she rushed to her bedroom in embarrassment, with every intention on hiding for the rest of the night. So here she was, wearing her mother’s silk robe and wondering just why in the hell everyone made fun of her all the time as she inspected her reflection in her full-length mirror. She took off her glasses and shook her hair, trying to make a sexy pose. The fuzzy rabbit slippers on her feet ruined the effect, though. What was she doing wrong? She wore sensible clothes that she thought were tasteful. No, they weren’t trendy or name brands, but they were classic looks. Pencil skirts and button up blouses and panty hose and loafers and…ok, so she dressed like the school nurse, but she wasn’t a complete wreck, was she?
She tightened the sash on her short robe and ran a brush through her long blonde hair, working out the knots from having it in a bun all day when someone suddenly knocked on her door. She panicked, running around her bedroom to find a pair of pants since her robe was far too short and inappropriate but then the door opened and William was standing there, covered in sweat with a sort of pained expression on his face.
“Hey,” he panted, bracing himself in the doorway and taking a moment to catch his breath. “Angel…we were…” he lowered his head and took a deep breath and then said, “practicing in the back yard.” He wiped his brow with his forearm and looked up at her through his lashes and if she was whimpering, it was completely out of her control.
“Oh,” she said, playing with the tie on her robe. Shit! Her robe! She pulled it down as far as she could, missing the smirk he gave her.
“So, I was wondering,” he continued to say between pants, “if I could use your shower? Angel’s in his and…as you can see…I’m in a disgusting state at the moment.”
“That is a matter of opinion.” And she really just said that out loud. Her hand covered her mouth and he actually looked surprised and a little bashful if she was reading the redness in his cheeks correctly.
“Um…” he laughed nervously. “So…can I?”
William Pratt was going to stand naked in a place that she stood naked every day. His sweat would mix with the same water she used. Her shower curtain would be witness to his nakedness. Her sponge, dear God hopefully, would travel along the planes of his body. “S-sure,” she squeaked. “Let me just get you a um…a towel. For your body. I mean!” Oh, Christ, she was still talking! No talking! No more talking! “I-well, yes, for your body because that’s what a towel is used on and you would need one to dry off. Wouldn’t want you drip drying naked in my bathroom or anything oh God!”
She quickly turned around and closed her eyes, kicking herself for babbling like an idiot. Either he hadn’t heard or was ignoring her, because she turned around to the sound of Velcro ripping. Jesus Lord on high, he was taking off his shin guards and rolling off his socks, bending over in the middle of her bedroom, sweating!
“So, I’ll just…go get that.” With a brave intake of breath, she walked into her bathroom and pulled out a big fluffy towel, the fluffiest she had, one that happened to be her favorite, and laid it across the counter for him. Then she turned around and squealed in fright that he was suddenly right behind her.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Oh, disciples of Jehovah, he was only wearing his soccer shorts. They were clinging to his strong thighs and other strong parts of him. Breathing wasn’t something she could do at the moment. He was simply glistening with sweat and she wanted to lick every bit of it off of him, starting with his sternum and going all the way to the...happy trail of hair beneath his belly button! Holy shit, holy shit! This was unlike anything she’d ever seen, ever, ever.
“Uh, unless you plan on watchin’, you mind?” he asked with a little quirk in the corner of his mouth, his hand extending towards the shower to indicate that she might want to get the heck out of his way.
“Oh! Yeah, I’ll just…” She swallowed and ducked to the side, shyly watching him as he walked into the bathroom and picked up her favorite towel and flung it over the curtain rod. He pulled back the curtain – which she witnessed because she had remained immobile – and he sniffed her shampoo. “Sorry, I know it’s girly.”
He looked at her with a shrug. “I like it.” He turned on the shower taps and then he really looked at her curiously. “I’m going to get in now.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m just…I’ll leave.” She shut the door and banged her head against it, cursing herself for being such a moron. She was just staring at him! He probably thought she was a freak of nature or some psycho stalker but she’d never been this close to a naked chest before, to William’s naked chest, no less! Ok, so she’d seen her brother practically naked but he was gross and made fart jokes and hello, her brother! So not the same thing. Nothing compared to the perfection of William Pratt’s physique which she currently could not stop thinking about. She’d seen it from afar plenty of times in the years he’d come to her house, screwing around with Angel and their friends in the yard. But that was from her bedroom window and this was, hands down, so much better than peeking through blinds.
He was freaking naked on the other side of that door. He was also singing. She giggled. And then, something glorious and wonderful and magical happened. He called to her from inside the shower of nakedness!
“Buffy? Where’s the soap?”
She’d used the last of it that morning and forgot to put a fresh bar in there. That meant she’d have to go in there. And her shower curtain was clear. And she’d see him naked oh fuck, shit, fuck, shit!
“Uh…it’s in the cabinet,” she said through the door.
“Would you mind getting it for me?”
Someone in heaven loved her or she’d done something amazing in her previous life because those were the only reasons she could think of for the blessing she was just given.
“Ok,” she said in a tiny voice and slowly opened the door. The steam blurred her vision for a minute. Just a minute though, because after that minute passed, the steam turned into the clouds of heaven. They surrounded William as if he were an angel, his blond curls slicked back from shower water, tanned muscles soapy from the shampoo bubbles that ran down his spine and she really shouldn’t stare. “I’ll get it.”
She covered her eyes right as the steam lowered; about to reveal a part of him she shouldn’t see. She strategically placed her fingers to allow a bit of a visual because she wasn’t a nun for crying out loud, and made her way to the cabinet to get his soap, trying her hardest not to moan at the sight of his fantastic ass. Quickly retrieving the soap, she walked over to the shower and stuck her arm out.
“Here you go,” she said, her other hand still over her eyes, though not quite all the way.
“Thanks, kitten,” he said, right as his wet fingers clasped over hers to take the soap from her. He’d called her a pet name when he was naked. So if God wanted her to die in the next moment, she might be ok with it. Except that his fingers were still touching hers and she slowly lowered the hand that had partially shielded her eyes. She was afraid to look at him. But she did. And he was smiling at her. William Pratt was naked in her shower, touching her hand and smiling at her.
“You’re welcome.” Where did that voice come from? It was…husky! Perhaps seeing a naked god made a woman’s voice lower and her skin tingle and gave them the sudden urge to rub against something, anything, preferably the eighteen-year-old boy only two feet in front of her.
Then he took the soap out of her hand, his eyes still locked with hers for a moment. “Should wear your hair like that all the time,” he said sincerely, one eyebrow arched, head cocked back a bit, as if his penis weren’t completely exposed and covered in bubbles and they were merely talking of the weather. Before she could utter a thank you or any stream of words that might be coherent, he’d turned around and started whistling as he lathered up the soap. In a floating daze of bliss, Buffy turned around and glided out of the bathroom towards her mirror. Her hair looked a mess. It was wild and fluffy as if she’d just gotten out of bed and William liked it? She wouldn’t touch a hair on her head, not one. She wished she had hairspray to keep it looking exactly like that forever and ever.
Then the shower cut off and she heard the curtain slide across the rod. She didn’t know what she should do, if she should stand there and hand him his sweaty clothes or if she should ignore him and pretend to be busy with something. She decided on the latter and started digging through her backpack for her notebook, trembling when she heard the bathroom door open. Her favorite towel was hugging his lower body in a way she wished her legs were doing. How the hell could she ignore that? Well, she couldn’t. Wouldn’t, if she cared at all for her own imagination. This was an image that would last a lifetime and aid her fantasies for years to come.
“All done?” she asked, her fingers fidgeting with her sash.
He looked at her strangely again, like he had when he’d complimented her hair. Then he licked his lips and narrowed his eyes as he took a step towards her. “Can I ask you something?”
He wanted to talk to her wearing only a towel? She nodded.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?”
What? Did she…what? Her heart had never pounded so hard in her entire life and she could barely breathe. Did he really just… “What?”
He shook his head as if he’d been in a trance and he walked right over to her. “Turn around.”
She blinked rapidly, her skin humming from his close proximity and her nerves on edge, wanting to flee at the same time, but she did as he asked. William walked up behind her and she looked at their reflections in her mirror. He was looking at her so intensely and she was about to explode with anxiety. Then his hands were on her shoulders and his mouth was inches from her ear as he spoke words that she would never, ever forget.
“Look at yourself. You’re beautiful, Buffy.” Oh, melting!
She tried to see herself in his eyes, but all she could focus on was his voice and what he’d said and how just hearing it made her feel beautiful, even if she thought she wasn’t. She was wearing her mother’s short silk robe, the pale pink one with the green ivy leaves on it, her beat-up bunny slippers, and her hair was a tangled mess. She tried to look away, embarrassed and nervous and feeling so many weird things as he came even closer behind her. He pulled her hair away from her shoulders and her eyes fluttered a bit from the gentle, tickling touch. Then his hands were on her waist and he was still murmuring in her ear.
“I’ve always thought so,” he said, his hands coming around to the front of her, rubbing small circles on her stomach, tenderly. What was happening? This was out of a dream: this wasn’t real at all. It couldn’t be.
He kissed her neck and her eyes flew open, watching his lips curl into a smile as his nose dragged against her ear lobe. “What, you didn’t know?”
She tried to speak but couldn’t, not when she felt the length of his body press into the back of hers and his hot breath on her skin. A shuddering moan escaped her lips and both of his hands gripped her hips through the silk fabric of her robe and his mouth was on the other side of her neck, lightly tasting her.
“Thought you hated me,” he said in a thick, low voice. Electric shocks shot from her nipples to her womb and she almost fell from the amazing sensations his voice and hands were giving her but he held her up. In a million years, she’d never dreamed of being this close to him, feeling his hands on her, his lips on her neck and though he hadn’t even gotten to the good parts of her body, she felt as if he had. There was a throbbing between her legs and her breath was quickening and she never wanted it to end.
“Hated? Wha-” She moaned as one of his hands dipped beneath her robe and found her bare stomach while his tongue and teeth teased her throat. She thought briefly about people who used inhalers and if she might be a candidate for needing one at the moment.
“You always ignored me or seemed so,” he bit her earlobe, “put off by my being around.”
Was he insane? Clearly he was, because she’d been in love with him for five years, since she was twelve years old, and he thought she hated him?
“That’s not true,” she said as her eyes closed, her hips involuntarily moving a bit against him, begging for more of his touches. She was going to marry him and make hundreds of babies and live in a gated community.
“I’ve always liked you, you know. You wouldn’t ever talk to me though. Tried to so many times and you’d just…and then today, after Cordelia said…I thought maybe…” He stopped all movements and backed away from her. She turned around, inwardly screaming that he better not even think of stopping.
“I’m sorry,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I’m such an idiot…fuck, I’m sorry, Buffy. I completely attacked you in your own…I’m sorry. You must think I’m an asshole.” He leaned over to pick up his clothes and she panicked.
“No! Don’t be…I mean,” she chewed on her lip and he looked at her in embarrassment. William Pratt, the second most popular boy in school was embarrassed because of her! Good God, she had to have accidentally taken acid or something. “Unless you didn’t mean to.” Please don’t say you didn’t mean it.
His ashamed expression started to melt away, turning into a relieved smile. “I meant to. I’ve…Jesus, Buffy, I’ve liked you forever. You really didn’t know?”
She blinked rapidly as she processed this information. He liked her forever? He meant to touch her like that? He was still in a towel and slightly happy to see her, it seemed, and why was she not saying anything?
“You have?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged, bunching his dirty clothes up at his groin. “I shouldn’t have been so…forward.”
She tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow.
“I, uh…” His eyes darted around the room ashamedly and his face scrunched up as he looked at her. “I could have used your mum’s shower but I knew you were in here and…I didn’t know how else to talk to you. Lame, right?”
No. Perfect. Beautiful. I love you so much please marry me. “I’ve never kissed a boy before.” Stupid! Why would you say that?
“Really?” He was smiling brightly at her and walking over to her again. “Never?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“Lucky me.”
And then he was kissing her, cupping her face with his hands and pressing his damp chest against hers and this was quite possibly the best moment of her entire life. He was so strong and warm and bigger than her and a boy and his lips were pressing against hers. Dear lord, he felt so wonderful and he was kissing her! She felt him laugh a bit through his nose and he pulled back, missing the anxious look on her face as he looked at the ground.
“Look at your shoes,” he said, toeing a fluffy rabbit ear. “Felt something ticklin’ me down there.”
She felt something tickling her down there, too. Ignoring his amusement at her footwear, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, taking him by surprise. Then he moaned a little and she almost melted right into her rabbit slippers as his hands snaked around her silky waist and pulled her tight against him. She was kissing William Pratt and he was moaning and sliding his tongue into her mouth. He tasted better than her most favorite chocolate. His lips were softer than her favorite towel that was wrapped around his waist. Kissing William was now her favorite thing in the world to do and as she predicted, she could do it for hours and hours and hours. And oh, the tiny breaths he emitted as he became more eager and the thought that William Pratt was eager to kiss her might do her in for good.
Somehow, she’d wound up on her back on her bed. She didn’t know how she got there but she didn’t care because he was on top of her, massaging her tongue with his and sliding his hands up her thighs as he settled between them. She gasped for air when his lips moved to her neck and she whimpered as his weight settled into her. She was dreaming. Dreaming, dreaming.
“What?” he mumbled as he kissed her collarbone.
“I didn’t…I didn’t say anything,” she panted, raking her hands in his soft, damp hair.
“You said…dreaming.” Then his face was inches above hers, smiling knowingly with a cute little smirk.
“Thought I was,” she said shyly.
“Then…let’s neither of us wake up,” he said sweetly. That was a damn good plan. His lips were on hers again, her hands were trailing down his back, tentatively exploring his skin for the first time. He encouraged her with soft little noises that told her how much he liked it, though his tongue and teeth were awfully distracting. Somehow, in the back of her head, she knew he wouldn’t pressure her into anything more than this and maybe because of that, she felt a bit more at ease with him to do more.
But he was noticeably hard and the heat of him between her legs was tempting her to move against it. The first jerk of her hips sent a piercing wave of arousal through her body and he gripped her bare thigh with one hand and buried his mouth in her throat.
“Don’t…don’t do that,” he said desperately, panting against her skin.
“Did I hurt you?” She was so worried that she’d screwed it up, that she’d done something wrong already, that he’d be finished before they even started.
“No, love,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek. “I just don’t want to ruin this very nice towel of yours.”
She giggled and he chuckled, too. “I can wash it, you know.” Please kiss me forever, you handsome bastard. God, he was red-cheeked and red-lipped and smiling at her and half-naked in her bed and why hadn’t he always been with her?
“Oh, you can, can you?” He thrust against her and they both moaned, the sounds clipped at the end as his mouth descended upon hers once more. Her legs widened a bit and he sucked on her lip as he moved over her, gently grinding his hips between her thighs. Her stomach tightened and her clit throbbed in gratitude as he caressed it on every stroke with his towel covered cock and she might just faint in a second if he kept it up.
But then his hand was sneaking beneath her robe and his thumb was grazing her nipple.
“Oh, my God,” she said breathily, her toes digging into his thighs as he introduced another wonderful sensation to her.
“So, so beautiful,” he mumbled, a bit strained as his own arousal went into overdrive. She could imagine them both naked, moving like this as he made love to her. The thought of it was making her incredibly amorous, loosening her up and making her pant and moan and writhe beneath him. She arched her back and spread her robe open wide for him, letting his hands and mouth do what they wanted to her breasts.
His tongue flicked her nipple and his floppy, white curls tickled her skin as he moved from breast to breast, desperately nipping and licking her as he sped up the pace of his hips. She needed to feel his ass. God, she’d dreamed about that ass for years and now was her chance to touch it. When she did, she realized that the towel had long ago slid down, exposing him completely. So that’s why the grinding had started to feel so much better against her panties…
She grabbed his ass hard and thrust against him, her need to possess and keep him forever had taken over and he shoved his tongue into her mouth and moaned, dragging his hard, bare cock over her center. Again and again, the barely there sensation doing more for her need than when he was pounding against her.
She mewled and moaned into his mouth as the tightening in her womb increased and finally snapped loose when she felt his hand come between them and dip beneath the waistband of her panties.
“You need to come?” he asked against her lips, slowly stroking her between her folds with his large fingers and driving her crazy. “Please, Buffy, please, please, please.”
He was begging her to…well, God damn! “Yes…oh, William!”
It only took three strokes of his fingers and she fell apart beneath him, moaning with a womanly voice she never knew she had, his blue eyes watching her every move and then she felt warm liquid on her thigh. He was coming, too, licking his lower lip and squeezing his eyes closed as he came.
He carefully removed his hand from her panties, gulping for air as he hovered over her and she wondered for a moment if this was it. If he’d gotten what he wanted and that it was all over. If he’d taken pity on her somehow. If this really was just a dream.
“You…I can’t…” he shook his head in disbelief, pulling the towel up and around his waist again.
“What?” Oh, God, no.
“I can’t believe you just let me do that.”
“Let you? What are you talking about?”
“You said you’d never kissed anyone and I just…went a little crazy.” He was blushing. William Pratt was blushing after he’d just given Buffy Summers her very first orgasm. Had hell frozen over?
“I like it when you go crazy.” She nodded with a tiny smile, pleased that she’d made him chuckle.
He rolled over onto his side, pulling her with him. “I really do like you, Buffy. More than just…you know.”
They lay silent for a moment, her eyes closing slightly as he stroked her hair and she imagined doing this with him every night for the rest of her life. “William?”
“Mm?”
“What did you say to Cordelia before you and Angel got in the car?”
“I didn’t, Angel did.”
“What did he say?” She propped herself up on one arm and looked down at him.
His eyes locked with hers for a moment and then he said, “That she should get used to you being around more often because I was going to,” he cleared his throat, “because I was going to ask you out.”
She might cry. He’d told her brother that he liked her. Her brother told the queen bitch that William liked her. Which meant that everyone in school would know in a matter of days and he wasn’t even bothered by it. She was going to cry. In fact, she was crying.
“Hey,” he said, his face full of concern as he wiped away her tears. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing is wrong. I just…God, could you please pinch me?”
A happy smile spread across his face and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him in a sweet embrace. “I don’t know why you don’t believe me, but I’ve wanted this forever. Even when you wear that red jumper everyone makes fun of.”
She groaned in humiliation, putting a pillow over her head. “My mother made that for me and I hate it.”
“Your mother is a genius.” He lifted the pillow from her and smiled at her. “It’s the only thing you’ve ever worn that shows more than two inches of your leg above your knee. I stared at your legs for the duration of the one class we had together last year.” He was touching her legs then, and she thought maybe they’d kiss some more.
“So you just want me for my body,” she teased. Inside, her heart was doing cartwheels at his admissions and she’d never been happier in her entire life.
“Yup.” He pecked her on the cheek. “Because you aren’t the smartest girl I’ve ever met,” he said sarcastically, “or sweet and giving and kind, and because you haven’t spent the past five years watching me play soccer when my parents haven’t come one single time.”
She was mortified. He knew.
But he was smiling too sweetly for her to fear the consequences of him knowing. “I’d see you up there for every game, no matter the weather or how far away we were playing. Every single game. And even if you weren’t there for me, it didn’t matter. I wanted to impress you. Do my best for you. It was nice, knowing you were always there.” Swooning couldn’t even touch what she was feeling at that moment. He kissed her before she could say anything in reply. He took his time to explore every inch and facet of her mouth, making her toes curl and her skin tingle and Buffy knew that she couldn’t be that bad if William Pratt wanted to be with her. He thought she was beautiful, made her feel it in a way she didn’t know was possible, had liked her forever, he said. Her brother’s best friend had made her dreams come true and whether he liked it or not, he was going to be hers for a very, very long time.