Chapter 1.


Buffy loved waking up to fresh ground coffee in the morning, especially when that coffee was brought to her in bed. Even more so when it was delivered by a hunky man with bitable buttocks and no clothes on.


Sadly, there were none in the vicinity. Instead, she had to drag her ass out of bed at the screeching sound of the alarm clock, grumble all the way through her morning shower, grimace at the mirror while she brushed her teeth, and make her way to the campus cafeteria to drink the murky liquid that passed for coffee there. She’d always manage to make sure she occupied one of the more secluded tables, the ones far from the windows, where the in-crowd hung.


After a couple of sips of the extremely suspicious concoction, she’d usually feel like she’d swallowed a missile of adrenaline and spend the hour or two before her first class of the day people-watching or writing. She was extremely good at both, and she kept telling herself she liked not being in the center of things. It was easier looking into them from the outside. She could be more objective and feel bad for those who weren’t smart as her, shake her head at those who didn’t see how fucked up their lives were, and make fun of the bimbos who thought they had it made with their long hair, skimpy outfits and very few brain cells.


She wasn’t bitter. As a matter of fact, anyone who ever got to talk to her would comment on what a fun person she was to be around, how smart and witty she was, how cute… but she felt they couldn’t really see her. They only saw as far as she allowed them to, and even though she’d tried hard and for many years to only let a select few close enough, she feared not even they saw the real her any longer. Every single person in her small circle of family and friends had an idea about how she should live her life, what she should do, what she should change, so she’d fled from them, enrolling in college halfway across the country.


She had grand plans of reinventing herself, at first. She’d be mysterious and sexy, and meet the man of her dreams, and stop worrying about the destruction the planet was heading for, because that wasn’t what girls her age were supposed to do. They were supposed to party and fall in love and be carefree. Only it seemed she didn’t have carefree in her genetic material. She was one of those peculiar individuals with a conscience, someone who cared. . She shied away from crowds, seeking herself without the distraction others brought about, while what she was really in need of was someone to see her.


“You know, I see you every day.” a male voice with an indisputably British accent startled her enough to make her choke on her coffee.


“Oh, I’m so sorry!” the man who’d apparently read her mind said, seeming completely flustered. “Are you all right?”


Buffy nodded mutely and he went on. “I’m terribly sorry. Just thought I’d come over and be all charming and witty, and say I see you every day but have never heard your voice and was dying to, or something.” He rubbed the back of his head and she could swear he blushed. “Guess now on I’ll know my efforts at charm are life threatening.”


Buffy giggled and was shocked at the sound. She didn’t giggle. She wasn’t bubbly. She laughed out loud like one of the boys, sometimes chuckled, but didn’t giggle.


“So, now that I’ve heard you laugh, I guess I should be content, right?” the adorable stranger with the honey blond hair and the bluer than blue eyes asked and she tried to find something smart to say but could only grin. “I’m William,” he offered and held out his hand. “And I’m not from around here.”


Now she had something to work with. “Not from around here? Never would have guessed,” she said and shook his hand. “I’m Buffy.”


“So, Buffy, care to show the new guy the ropes? I’ve only been on campus a couple of weeks and haven’t exactly made new friends.”


She had no clue how it was possible that there weren’t people jumping at the chance to be his friend, but she decided against looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Sure,” she said with a shrug that took lots of effort to seem unforced. “I’ll show you around. Meet me after class?”


“We actually have Creative Writing together.” He checked his watch. “Now.”


Which was how Buffy found herself watching the perfect ass of the cutest guy she’d ever spoken to making its way to class. And he’d offered to carry her books.


~~~~~*~~~~~


He was completely and utterly adorable, hot, and she wanted him. She’d decided on all three the moment he first spoke to her, but when she asked what he was scribbling during the entire time in class and he blushed and mumbled, “Just a poem, nothing interesting,” she had to resist pinching his cheeks or grabbing him and kissing those perfect lips.


When he asked if she’d get some coffee with him, Buffy found herself grinning. And then she caught herself giggling again, like a silly teenager, or one of those chicks she loved to make fun of. If she flipped her hair, too, she’d tell him she couldn’t see him again, she decided, all while coquettishly batting her eyelashes and making little sounds of awe as he told her about himself. He was one year her senior, had just transferred from England, a shocker that, and wasn’t much into sports or nightlife, so he had no common ground with most of the people he’d met on campus. Buffy felt extremely lucky about that. She felt privileged to be in his company, it was as if she had dibs on a well-kept secret: the awesomeness that was William.


Coffee turned into grabbing a bite, and then catching an oldie at the cinema, and although the word date never came up, she was pretty sure that was the best date she’d ever been on. Only, when he drove her back to her place and insisted on walking her upstairs to her door, to, in his words, “make sure none of those pesky frat-boys made an unwanted pass,” at her, the good night kiss she expected never came. At least not to the lips. She’d done everything right: leaned against the doorframe and smiled at him, told him how much fun she’d had, and asked him in for a drink. He told her he’d love to spend the next day with her, but that it had been a long day, kissed her on the cheek and said, “See you tomorrow,” before she was once more left to watch his perfect butt move away from her.


Tomorrow had never before taken so long to get there.


She tossed and turned most of the night, sexual dreams of her and William haunting her sleep until she gave in to what her body craved and slipped her hand between her thighs, to rub the tension away. Her fingers were punishing on her clit, pinching and pressing the sensitive nubbin roughly as she sought a release that wouldn’t come. Licking her index and middle finger, she slid them along her slit and then pumped them inside her hard, her thumb working on her clit, but still the knot of lust tied in her lower belly refused to let up. Finally too tired to keep on trying, and with her hand going stiff from the awkward angle, she let out a frustrated growl, flipped on her stomach, buried her face in her pillow and waited for dawn.


~~~~~*~~~~~


He wasn’t there when she got to the campus cafeteria, and God knows she looked for him. After an hour had gone by, during which she’d even written a rough draft of her thesis, and he’d still not shown up she decided the previous day meant nothing and filed it in the part of her mind that held fantasies with movie stars and fictional heroes.


Suddenly, he showed up. Short of breath, hair mussed and eyes hooded with sleep, he all but ran towards her, waving an arm, the other haphazardly balancing a carton that held two Styrofoam cups. The moment he was close enough for her nostrils to detect the smell of coffee, fantasies with movie stars were permanently deleted from her mind.


“Sorry I’m late, thought I’d get us some proper coffee,” he managed to say between panting breaths.


Late? “To be late, a time of meeting has to be set first, no?” She winked at him and wanted to pat herself on the back for managing to be witty when all she wanted to do was slobber and gush.


“Well, in my head, let’s do it again tomorrow meant same time, same place.”


“Good thing I’m not in your head then, or I’d be pissed at you for standing me up.”


“And I’d have to grovel then, right?”


Damn, she should have acted pissed. She smiled so wide she thought her face would split in two. “Nah, coffee would get you a get out of jail free card.”


“Thank God for small favors, then.” He winked. The mischief in his blue eyes made her dizzy and she giggled. Again.


This time they skipped class, too engrossed in their conversation on social responsibility and what just one person could do to change the world. By the end of that chat, Buffy’s stomach was growling. When William said he was hungry and asked if she’d go for a veggie burger with fries, she knew she was in love.


When he left her at her room, it was a repeat performance from the night before. As soon as he’d disappeared down the stairs, she wanted to scream.

She ran to her bathroom, and took a good look at her teeth. No, no errant piece of greenery wedged between her front teeth. She sniffed her armpits and cupped her palm in front of her face and exhaled deeply, but there was nothing unappealing about her body odor or breath. Maybe he just wasn’t attracted to her. Also, maybe she should take her vibrator to bed with her.


The stupid piece of plastic achieved nothing more than what her hand had the night before. It buzzed till the batteries nearly ran out, but all she felt was annoyed that it wasn’t William inside her. She kept replaying the feel of his fingers on her face when he brushed a lock of hair off it saying it hid her eyes. How he stopped her with a reassuring and firm hold on her knee when she thought she’d invaded his personal space and tried to move away, mumbling a “Sorry, I’m in your bubble.” Most of all, she recalled the sensation of his warm lips as they lingered on her cheek for just a split second too long for the kiss to be considered purely friendly. The memories only served to confuse her, however, as the kiss had to have been purely friendly, or he’d be pumping inside her now, his weight pinning her to the mattress, his narrow hips bumping against hers. And she’d come for him, she knew she would. Hard!


~~~~~*~~~~~


She woke up with the vibrator still inside her, sticky and sore, and unsatisfied. Today would be the day. She’d beg him to take her, if she had to, although she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.





Tbc.