Bad Girl
by SpikesKat
Buffy stepped inside the Bronze as the first notes of Cibo
Matto’s “Sugar Water,” began. Her
black suede platform heels struck a seductive path as she sashayed deeper into
the club, her body swaying to the hypnotic music, oblivious to the stares of the
men in the room – especially the one that watched her with amber eyes blazing.
Her eyes skimmed the small crowd, her mouth turning
downward in a slight frown as Angel made eye contact with her and drew near.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Angel replied.
“So, is there danger at the Bronze? Should I beware?”
she asked him, the snippy tone and slightly mocking look able to win her an
honorary spot as a “Cordette.”
“I can't help thinking I've done something to make you
angry. And that bothers me more than I'd like.”
He sounded like a whipped puppy, and Buffy rolled her eyes,
her lip curling up in distaste.
“I’m not angry. I don’t know where that came from.”
Angel pinned her with a look, his face a mask of equal
parts concentration and brood as he tried to get her to open up, to be the girl
she was before the thing with the Master. “What
are you afraid of? Me?
Us?”
“Could you contemplate getting over yourself for a
second? There's no ‘us.’ Look, Angel, I'm sorry if I was supposed to spend
the summer mooning over you, but I didn't. I moved on,” she told him.
As she turned and walked away, she added, “To the living.”
She was about to join her friends when a figure dressed in
black caught her eye as he moved in her direction.
The smirk, the swagger…yeah, he just screamed “Bad Boy.”
Just what Buffy needed tonight. Dismissing
her friends out of hand, and knowing that Angel was lurking in the shadows
watching her, she added a bit more sway to her hips and walked over towards the
blond-headed bad boy.
Buffy was about halfway to his side when he turned away
from whatever he’d been staring at and zeroed in on her.
She smiled – a seductive tilt of her lips that promised untold pleasure
– as she invaded his personal space and forced him to stop in front of her.
Her hand lifted, one finger tracing the edge of the leather duster before
veering away to run down the black t-shirt that seemed molded to his frame.
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and she looked up
at him from beneath her lowered lashes. “Wanna
dance?”
~*~
Spike had heard through the demon grapevine that the Slayer
had been in
School!
Like she expected to live for years yet and could afford to
engage in such normal activities.
Having to chase after her to this small town – even if it
did reside on top of the Hellmouth –
had left him in a foul mood. He just
wanted to drain the bitch so his sire could feast from his neck and hopefully
heal after the mob attack they’d suffered in
He’d come to The Bronze to find a bite to eat – teenage
clubs being known for producing a plethora of sex-starved teens that thought
nothing of escaping to a darkened alley for a little slap and tickle.
Spike had been just about ready to partake in an early snack when the
familiar scent of family had permeated the air.
Angelus.
Spike drifted back into the shadows, hoping he’d not been
sensed. Wouldn’t do to alert his
souled-up grandsire to his presence. He’d
not seen the vamp since
An hour later and Angelus still hadn’t left.
He was just about to go somewhere else when he felt the faint tingling on
the edge of his senses that indicated the Slayer was near.
Staying to the shadows and keeping his grandsire in sight, his amber gaze
took in the club’s patrons on the lookout for the “Chosen One.”
Imagine his surprise when he saw her stop before Angelus.
Listening to the husky timbre of her voice as she told the vamp she’d
moved on…
Spike chucked at the dumbfounded expression
that transform the elder vamp’s features when she walked away, even as he felt the
metal dig of his zipper against his rapidly hardening length.
He’d seen enough for now, and decided to beat a hasty retreat before he
was noticed, his eyes keeping Angelus in sight as he moved toward the exit.
He neared the door, and Spike turned his attention away from the far wall... and
his gaze collided with that of the Slayer’s.
Young and supple, her body moved with the natural grace of
a predator. The maroon dress she
wore accentuated every curve of her body, and he couldn’t help wondering what
she looked like with her clothes off. His
waning erection sprang back to life when she smiled at him.
‘Naughty kitty.’
Then she’d stopped before him, trailing a seductive
finger down his chest, asking him if he wanted to dance.
Oh yeah. She
was playing with fire now.
His hand shot out and gripped her waist, hauling her flush
against his body so that she could feel his arousal against her stomach.
“’M always ready t’ dance, luv.”
He watched her eyes widen momentarily in fear before she
quickly masked it and returned to her role of seductress.
The cheeky chit turned in his arms and rubbed her ass across his crotch,
making him groan silently at her blatant teasing.
His grandsire was forgotten as he followed her willingly onto the dance
floor. He liked living on the edge.
Craved it after the mockery that had been his human existence.
And, dancing with the Slayer while Angelus looked on couldn’t get him
any closer to it.
He was walking a fine line, and he knew it.
One false step would see him dust beneath her heels.
But right now, with them center stage on the dance floor, their bodies
pressed tightly together as they moved to the hypnotic beat of the music…he
didn’t care.
Right now, this moment, was worth it.
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy had a moment’s panic when he drew her close,
telling her without words what kind of dancing he’d really like to be doing.
She was all set to give up her charade and go home, but her body had
other ideas. Relaxing into his wiry
frame. The smell of leather, smoke, and liquor overwhelming her senses and
returning the look of cool seduction to her face.
Now, as they danced together, she wished he’d take the
initiative and drag them off the dance floor and out into the alley.
She wanted to know if his lips were as soft as they looked.
If her fingers weren’t lying when they told her that the black t-shirt
he wore hid a well-defined body.
“Mmmm…smell good, pet,” he murmured against her ear,
his tongue tracing its outer edge.
Buffy’s knees went weak, her arms tightening
automatically around his neck to hold herself in place – the movement drawing
her body flush against his. Her
eyelids fluttered and closed as he continued to tease the sensitive orifice.
“Jasmine,” she managed to gasp out in answer.
“It’s jasmine…”
“Nice…” His lips nibbled at the bottom lobe, his
tongue worrying the earring at the hole in her ear.
“But that’s not what’s drivin’ me crazy.”
Blunt teeth moved from her ear to trail down her neck until
they encountered a set of bite marks. ‘Slayer’s
been bitten and lived to tell the tale…’ His
mouth closed over the marks and nibbled lightly.
Spike was prepared when her legs buckled, knowing firsthand
the feel of teeth and tongue on so erogenous a zone.
His arms held her body securely to him as he continued to drive her crazy
with lust right there on the dance floor. When
she came a moment later, he was thrown for a loop, groaning as her release
flooded his nostrils – making him want to drag her from the dance floor and
into the alley so that he could shove her up against the brick wall and make her
do it again. Only this time her legs
would be wrapped around his waist as he buried his cock deep inside her quim,
thrusting hard and fast until her vaginal walls milked his own release.
There was no way he could kill her now.
Not with her being as responsive as she’d been.
So, as the music continued to play, his fangs elongated and
pierced her flesh. Right over the
marks left by the Master of his line. His
demonic features were hidden in shadow as he supped at her neck, not surprised
when he nearly spilled his load inside his jeans as her rich blood coated his
tongue.
The warning growl from Angelus came too late.
“Mine,” he snarled at the elder vampire, retracting his
fangs and licking the wound closed, his human mask once more in place.
He knew his grandsire wouldn’t cause a scene, especially when he held
the Slayer in his arms. Dismissing
him from his thoughts, he gazed down at the bemused expression on the Slayer’s
face. He guided her off the dance
floor and over near the exit that led to the alley, on the opposite side of the
club from the other vampire. It
would warrant him a few moments, but just a few.
“Gotta run, pet. But
I’ll be back,” he told her.
“Go? Go
where?” She was still dazed from
their encounter and didn’t want him to leave yet.
She’d only just met him. Buffy
shook her head as she tried to clear her thoughts.
All the anger she’d felt on walking into The Bronze was gone.
Disappeared in the face of the angel looming over her.
No…not angel. He’d bitten
her. Her hand went automatically to
the wound on her neck.
“You bit me!” she accused suddenly.
Spike chuckled, pleased to see the ire sparkling in her
eyes. Oh, she was going to be a
handful.
“You caught me, luv,” he replied.
His hand lifted to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“Now, go home and get some rest. I’ll
be back before you know it.”
“Back?”
“You’re mine now, Slayer.
And I keep what’s mine.”
A harsh edge had come into his voice, one that had her
shivering unconsciously.
“Slayer? But how did—”
Her protest was cut off as he lowered his head and kissed
her. There was nothing gentle about
this kiss. No first time
getting-to-know-you fumblings. No.
His mouth swept over hers with bold ownership.
As if he’d been kissing her for ages.
She let out a whimper and leaned back against the wall for support.
He took immediate advantage and thrust his tongue in her
mouth, coaxing her into a response.
And she did. Her
arms lifted and wrapped around his neck to draw him closer.
Her own tongue pushing against his so that she could taste him, commit to
memory every contour of his mouth...anything to tide her over until his return.
If his growl was any indication, he seemed to like it.
He tore his mouth from her suddenly, some invisible
signal having told him that his time was up. A
caress to her cheek and he was gone, escaping out the side door and into the
alley. Her body left heaving and
needy from arousal.
Too caught up in reining her riotous emotions under
control, Buffy didn’t notice Angel’s presence until he was standing right
next to her. She looked up at him,
one hand fingering the new marks on her neck while she pushed herself away from the
wall she’d been leaning against for support.
“Well…maybe not quite living.”
Then she walked away, snagging her jacket and escaping out the front door of the Bronze.
The End