Blue Eyed Devil
 Parts 15-19


Written by: Pattyanne
 Author's Website





Summary: AU. (Here I go again) Spike is an up and coming rock star. His band is called "Blue Eyed Devil". Buffy is a pre-school teacher, who meets him one night in a club where his band is singing.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
AN: Since I can't write music, and music is going to be a major theme in this story, I'll be using other songs that I like. Unless it's noted that the song belongs to someone else, I need you to suspend a little belief and pretend it's a Blue Eyed Devil song. I'm sure none of you will have any problem imagining "him" singing a love song...to whoever.
Feedback: snapkik@yahoo.com




=Part Sixteen=

 


In the aftermath of ecstasy, the room was blissfully quiet.

Devlin lay with his arms wrapped around Buffy's waist, and his head pillowed on her tummy. He smiled when he felt her fingers playing in his hair.

"You okay, kitten?"

"Mm-hmm," Buffy sighed. "Never...ever...better."

"Never ever?"

She giggled. "Ever."

He raised his head and caught her sweet smile. Suddenly inspired, he leaped to his feet on the bed, grinning like a fool. "I feel fantastic!" he said loudly, throwing his arms out dramatically.

Although a certain portion of his anatomy was in serious need of attention, Buffy focused on his face,
greatly amused at his demeanor. She almost expected him to start pounding on his chest.

She was about to tell him to settle down when he dropped to his knees and pounced on her.

"You," he said happily, "are the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm gonna write music for you...and
songs about you...and make love to you every chance I get."

By reply, she slipped one hand behind his neck and pulled him down close. "So...what's stopping you?"
she asked, her breath warm on his lips.

Spike looked at her, chagrined. "Oh, baby....I'm not doing right by you, am I?" He dropped a kiss on her lips. "Forgive me?"

Buffy shrugged. "Only if you do right by me...right now."

Giving her the smile that made her toes curl, he arranged himself next to her, then took her hand.  Bringing it to his lips, he pressed a gentle kiss in her palm, touching it briefly with his tongue.

Without a word, he guided her hand down between them and placed her fingers around the steely hardness
of his shaft.

Instinctively, Buffy tightened her grasp and moved he hand up and down.

Devlin's breath was ragged as she touched and teased him. "Oh, baby....that's perfect," he said, allowing his eyes to close briefly. "You have such a soft little hand."

His own hand moved between her legs, cupping the wet mound and squeezing gently.

She was only peripherally aware of the pleasure his touch was giving her. Most of her attention was pinned on what she was doing to him, and the reaction it was getting.

His penis was rock hard, but the skin covering it was smooth. He felt warm and solid in her hand, and when she moved her thumb up and over his glans, fluid seeped from it, wetting her fingers.

She used her thumb to massage the semen back into the tip of his erection, making him shudder and moan.

"You...you can do it harder, babe," he murmured in a husky voice. "That's right....a little faster...oh, yeah.
Yeah, that's....that's it....mmm.."

He gasped, and she lifted her face to look at him at the same moment he looked at her. Their mouths came together, melding and burning with love, and lust, and need. Little parts blending to form a wonderful whole.

Breaking away, Devlin fell over on his back and  pushed his hips forward, thrusting his hard flesh in and out of her tiny fingers.

Buffy raised up slightly and watched him.

"Spike?" she whispered. "What do you feel...when I touch you?"

He didn't open his eyes, but he smiled. "Heaven," he whispered back. "Paradise...Valhalla...Shangri-La...all those places...where miracles happen."

She hesitated, trying to work up enough nerve to ask her next question. "Do you...would you like me
to...to..."

"Don't stop," he begged.

"Oh!" She HAD stopped. Hadn't meant to, but she'd been concentrating too much on putting her thoughts into words, and her hand had ceased it's easy, up and down caress. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "S'all right, love...God, that feels good...such soft hands..."

This time, she kept her hand in motion. "But I was just thinking that...if you want me to..."

Devlin opened his eyes and looked at her. "What, baby?"

Buffy's cheeks turned red, but she fought down the embarrassment of having to ask a man if he'd enjoy feeling her mouth where her hand was.

"What you did to me...before?" she ventured. "I...I want to...I mean, if YOU want me to...I...I could...oh, dear," she finished fretfully, certain that she was making a huge muddle of the whole thing.

But he came to her rescue. "Buffy...I would love that," he assured her. "Please...do anything you want to do to me. I'm your's, baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Now, a whole NEW tide of crimson swept into her cheeks. Although her offer had been sincere and heartfelt, she had neglected to mention one small
detail.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at him appealingly. "I think it's only fair to tell you, that I...I've..."

She was stammering like a high school girl confronting the captain of the football team, and she hated it.

When she chanced a quick peek at his face, she found him smiling tenderly.

He knew. Somehow...he knew.

"You've never done THIS before, either." It wasn't a question.

Buffy turned even redder. "Uh-uh."

His grin widened, as he reached down and wrapped  his fingers around hers, keeping up the slow stroking motion.

"It's really not all that difficult, love," he told her. "Are you sure you want to?"

So sweet, he was. Giving her a chance to back out.

She was confident that she wouldn't be getting a second one.

"I'm sure," she said firmly, not allowing herself to stop and think.

Sudden fire kindled in his eyes at her words. "Go on down, then," he directed her. "Get comfortable."

Beating her nervousness back with a broom handle, Buffy slid down and positioned herself between his
wide spread legs.

Holding him at the base of his erect penis, she studied the task before her with all the same careful consideration she'd given final exams in school.

It was an impressive sight. Bigger than she'd expected it to be, having only observed it in furtive little glances when it was beneath the confinement of tough denim.

Long and straight, with prominent veins feeding it the rush of blood it needed in order to develop and maintain erections, it had a blunt, bell shaped head that was leaking drops of semen.

A loud sigh jolted her out of her silent perusal, bringing back the tinge of color to her cheeks.

Knowing that if she hesitated further she would lose her nerve, Buffy leaned down and took him into her mouth.

His groan told her that she'd done exactly the right thing. He was hot and tasted salty on her tongue.

Sliding down as far as she could without gagging herself...and how embarrassing would THAT be...she found the right rhythm and applied it diligently.

As his shaft slid wetly in and out of her mouth, she remembered him watching her while he'd been
giving her this same pleasure.

Wanting to see...wanting to know...she looked  up at his face.

His eyes had become an even deeper shade of blue. A rich indigo, they were glassy and heavy lidded.

Meeting her gaze with his, he mouthed, "So good, baby..."

Buffy was thrilled by this, and a little surprised at the same time. Apparently, experience wasn't the only
factor in doing this well. Instinct counted for a lot, too.

Redoubling her efforts, she did everything she could think of...which, admittedly...wasn't much. She experimented with pace and pressure, moving her head like a weaving cobra slithering out of it's basket to
be charmed.

Releasing her hold on the base of his shaft, she dared to send her hand down further between his legs, cupping and fondling the heavy sac of his testicles.

Spike was moaning steadily now, striving for the delicious release she was bringing him to.

Buffy inched one finger just a little further down, stroking a place that seemed to be excruciatingly
sensitive.

With a hoarse shout, he buried his hands in her hair and began thrusting up into her mouth.

"Oh...oh, yeah," he breathed. "Do it again! Do it again! Yes...suck harder...sweet...

Buffy obliged, and it was the last bit of stimulation he could take. He had to make her stop.

"Buffy!" He frantically pulled her up and rolled on top of her. "NOW!!"




Part Seventeen....
 



He was just barely inside of her when he stopped.

Looking perplexed for a moment, the realization of what he was feeling slowly dawned on him. Shocked surprise followed, and was itself followed by a staggering sense of responsibility.

"Buffy," he breathed, leaning down to speak softly in her ear. "This is another first for you....isn't it, love?"

Trying to parcel out whether he was pleased or horrified at the whole idea, Buffy was too embarrassed to force out a verbal affirmative, and had to settle for nodding in jerky little movements.

She had been hoping right up until he penetrated her that she could get away with it. Hoping that if she seemed eager enough, and put on a "woman of experience" bluff, he might not notice until it was too late for him to stop.

Well, THAT plan had just blown up in her face. He had stopped. Question was....would he continue?

If she'd been able to divine his thoughts at the moment, she'd find that she had nothing to worry about.

There wasn't a chance in the world that he was going to stop now. He would wait a moment, give her time to adjust....and then make her his.

Raising his head, he smiled at her. "Open your beautiful eyes, baby," he coaxed her sweetly. "Don't be shy."

When she did as he'd asked, he could read every emotion that she was feeling, could see it all in the light green pools that were begging silently for his understanding.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing her tangled hair back with one hand. "Don't be frightened. I'm going to be very gentle, I promise, and try very hard not to hurt you...any more than I have to."

Buffy returned his smile, tremulously. He wasn't going to stop...wasn't going to leave her...wasn't put off by the knowledge that she was a twenty-five year old virgin.

Devlin wasn't put off in the slightest. He was actually having a difficult time controlling the rush of possessiveness, coupled with an anticipatory thrill that came of knowing he was the first to breach the walls that this beautiful creature had been living behind.

For her part, Buffy wanted it to be done. She wanted to know and experience all the things romance novels promised, wanted to put an end to her blasted virginity once and for all.

And she wanted Spike Devlin to be the one to do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure about this, sweetheart?"

Some weird impulse of chivalry made him ask the question. After it was out of his mouth, though, he wanted to take it back. What if she said no? What the hell would he do then?

If he was forced to leave the paradise he had found in her body, he would expire right there in her arms. He had no doubt that any denial at this moment would cause his innards to implode, leaving him in such a state of frustrated agony that he'd be begging to die.

**All right, maybe that's laying it on a bit thick But it won't be fun, that's for DAMN sure..**

"I'm sure," Buffy whispered, saving him from his gloomy imaginings. "I've been sure...I think...from the first time I saw you."

That was ALL he had to hear!

His arousal hadn't abated in the smallest degree during their little intermission. He was hard and ready, and she was extremely wet.

"Try and relax, love," he said soothingly. "Start with your toes and move up."

She followed his advice, going slowly up and up, a bit at a time. When the calm reached her thighs, they loosened up and parted even more.

Devlin took immediate advantage. He gradually slid in a little deeper, then back, then deeper again.

The sensation was nearly excruciating. The warmth and the tightness was unbelievable, and he had to concentrate on not thrusting into her with wild abandon.

When he felt her nails scoring his back, he dipped his head and took her lips in a long, open-mouthed kiss.

Need for air became an issue, and Buffy pulled back, gasping for it. "Please," she whispered on a raggedly indrawn breath. "Spike....don't be gentle. Be fast."

A groan of assent escaped him, and he adjusted his position and buried himself completely inside her.

Once he was in, he fought for a modicum of control and remained quite still, catching her scream in his mouth.

Buffy's nails dug deeper, almost drawing blood.

The pain was as bad as she'd imagined, but she forged her way through it just the same.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I know I'm hurting you, honey."

She could hardly deny it. The scream had pretty much given her away.

"It's all right," she panted in his ear. "It's...getting better."

He pulled back and looked at her. "Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded, putting all the sincerity she could summon up into her voice and expression. "Just give me a minute....or two."

Devlin was running on instinct at that point. He'd never been a girl's first lover before, and the only thing he could think to do was to try and distract her until the pain abated.

"All right," he said agreeably. "Can I kiss you while we're waiting?"

Buffy cupped his face in her hands, smiling at the shy request. "Oh, I wish you would," she replied softly, drawing him down to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catching her cheek, he kissed the sweet curve of her lips, penetrating her mouth with his tongue.

Buffy moaned and tunneled her fingers up through his silky curls, making his kiss harder and deeper.

He could feel the extreme tightness begin to ease up, making her no less snug, but far more accessible. Gently...slowly...he moved his hips from side to side.

Devlin moved his hand from her face, trailing it down the side of her body in a teasingly light caress. When he reached her outer thigh, he lifted himself just a small amount, just enough to allow his hand to slip in between them.

When she felt the touch of his fingers, her eyes flew open wide and stared up into his.

Their mouths separated, and Buffy arched her back. "Oh...oh, God," she whimpered, helpless beneath the assault of pleasure.

His mouth hovered above hers, absorbing her breathy sighs. "S..soon, love?" he begged, unsure just how much longer he could hold himself back.

She helped him. Her hands moved down his back to clutch at the firm muscle of his rump. "Now," she breathed hotly.

He began moving, each gentle thrust burying him deeper into her body as well as her heart.

Although there was a lingering ache between Buffy's legs, the sharpness of the initial pain had begun to fade. As it left, she was able to concentrate on the other sensations her body was telegraphing to her brain.

Every time he entered her, he rubbed himself in just the right spot, creating the most delicious friction exactly where she needed it.

Her sex felt fluid and hot, almost heavy with the need to...the need for...

Unknowingly, she raised her legs and wrapped them around his hips as he increased his rhythm.

He kissed her once more, quick and hard.

"Baby...oh, sweetheart," he murmured. "Are you all right? Is it good?"

He leaned on one arm and moved his free hand around to hold her soft bottom, fondling it and squeezing it firmly as he lifted her into his downstrokes.

It was so good now that she didn't know how to articulate it. The pain had turned to pleasure and the pleasure was all encompassing. How had she lived without this?

He didn't seem to expect an answer, and he kept moving his hips in that slow, rolling wave of motion.

"Baby...you feel so good," he said, locking her gaze with his own. "So wet and tight...and so bloody hot. Never been like this...never... you're the one...."

Buffy couldn't hold back a soft cry of his name.

Devlin's eyes burned with new heat at the sound.

"You're the one, Buffy," he said again, pumping a little faster. "You're all I want...all....I...want..."

Obeying her instincts one more time, she unwrapped her legs from around him and planted her feet flat on the mattress, then lifted her hips up into him, meeting each increasingly strong and demanding thrust.

He went wild, growling deep in his throat, pumping faster and harder. Burying his face against the side of her neck, he felt the beginning of her climax.

"Do it, baby...come for me...I want to feel it...make it tighter, love...that's perfect...yes...so sweet...my beauty...my star...unh...unh...now, love....now....do it now....now....Buffy....AHHH...NOWWWW!"

Her moisture slickened him as he drenched her womb with a flood of semen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The act of love...performed with love.

It was better than anything he'd ever dreamed of.





Part Eighteen....


"I just now thought of something."

Buffy opened her eyes and found him lying beside her, his head propped on his hand.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Birth control. Are you angry?"

How could she be angry? She hadn't thought of it either. Until now...

"I'm sorry," he said.

Buffy met his gaze straight on. "You don't really look all that sorry," she informed him.

Spike couldn't deny it, and no one was more surprised by that fact than he was himself. He'd had his share of brief relationships and even a few one night stands, but he was always careful to provide protection.

With Buffy, though...it had been the absolute furthest thing from his mind. All he'd been able to think about was her, about how beautiful and sweet she was, and how badly he'd wanted her. He wouldn't have been able to stop and fumble around with a condom if his life had depended on it.

He wanted a family someday, had always planned on having one...when he met the right woman.

The right woman....

Was she here with him now? Lying beside him, looking at him with heavenly green eyes, in a room scented with the fragrance of perfume and sex.

Yes. This had to be her. He wouldn't be nearly as calm and relaxed discussing the possible consequences of unprotected intercourse with any other woman.

Buffy would be a spectacular mother. All you had to do was watch her for five minutes with her little students to know that. Tenderness and caring for them emanated from her in huge amounts.

An incredible feeling of good fortune washed over him. How lucky could one guy get?

He was in bed with a woman that he was falling in love with by leaps and bounds. She was beautiful and sexy, and sweetly innocent at the same time. A face that was cameo perfect...and a body that could stop traffic. With a wealth of golden brown hair for his fingers to get lost in, and the softest skin he'd ever touched...she was perfect.

Add on the fact that she made him laugh just by being herself, and that she loved kids, and he was brought all the way back to his original question; How lucky could one guy get?

He placed his hand lightly on her stomach, rubbing it gently. What if there was already a child growing inside of her? She was young and healthy, and no doubt fertile. There was no reason why a baby couldn't have been conceived.

He'd certainly done HIS part, he decided, grinning arrogantly. He couldn't ever remember being so turned on and coming so hard....and so much. Yes, she was probably....

"You don't need to worry," she said, placing her hand over his. "It's not the right time of the month for that to happen."

Oh.

Oh, well....it was most likely for the best. That wasn't a good way to hold on to a woman. A baby should be planned for, by a husband and wife. He had very strong opinions on that subject, disliking the casual relationships that he saw so much of in his profession. There were a lot of people in his immediate circle of friends and acquaintances that had more than one child without ever bothering to get married.

It wasn't going to be that way for him. He wanted the entire package...the bride, the house with the picket fence, the dog and cat....and the little ones. Someday.


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


Buffy turned on her side, wincing slightly from the ache between her legs. Her cheeks turned pink at the sticky feel of her thighs peeling apart.

This losing of one's virginity was not all moonlight and roses, no matter what the romance novels touted. Although painful at first, the sex itself had become wonderful, and the pleasure she'd felt was everything she'd dreamed it would be.

The aftermath, though, was a different story. The lingering soreness, and the messy feel of their mingled fluids wasn't heaven on earth.

But looking into the dark blue eyes of the man who'd taught her the meaning of sexual desire, she couldn't have cared less about the discomfort.

And she was eager to learn more.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him.

He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Just about you, luv. Did I hurt you?"

Buffy could hardly lie about it. "It hurt at first, but you made it better." She placed one hand on his cheek, smiling when he turned his head and kissed her palm. "I guess I should have told you."

He raised one eyebrow. "Why didn't you?" When she couldn't seem to find an answer, he provided one. "Did you think that I wouldn't want you if I knew ahead of time that you were a virgin?"

Buffy smiled ruefully. It seemed kind of silly to hear it out loud.

Devlin chuckled. "I'll tell you the truth," he said. "I've wanted you from the second I laid eyes on you. The way you tossed your head and gave me that 'who the hell do you think YOU are' look. Ignoring me, then ordering me to get back up on stage and stop pestering you."

"Not used to women telling you to go away, are you?" Buffy asked.

"Hell, no," he admitted. "But that's just one of the reasons I came after you." He wrapped one lock of her hair around his finger, rubbing it with his thumb. "When I saw you at the school the next day...I knew I was right to come looking. You absolutely knocked me out, ya know? Watching you play with the kids...then seeing you stomping across the yard to give me all kinds of hell."

Buffy remembered it, too. She'd never forget.

"I'll tell you a secret," he said, leaning closer. "When you were telling me off that day...I wanted to grab hold of you and throw you over my shoulder, carry you to my car, kicking and screaming. Just disappear with you....and make love to you for days and days."

She felt her heart rate speed up.

"And someday?" he added. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

The scenario he'd just described sounded mightily appealing to Buffy.

"Well," she said, returning his smile, "when you do...I don't think I'll be kicking and screaming."

Moving closer still, he leaned down to kiss her. "Don't say that, yet," he murmured. "I think I can make you scream...just a bit."


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


Before their lips came together, the clock radio clicked on and startled them apart.

".....gonna be a nice one today, with highs in the lower 80s inland, and the mid 70s at the beach, but temperatures will drop in the early part of next...."

Buffy turned and banged on top of the gadget until it shut up. "Sorry," she said, facing him again.

Spike peered at the red digital numbers. "It's Saturday," he said. "Why in the world do you have that set for 5:30 in the bloody A.M.?"

Pushing her hair back out of her eyes, she made a face. "I usually go to the gym," she confessed.

He flopped over onto his back. "You've gotta be kidding me," he said, looking up at her. "You're not gonna do it today...are you?"

Buffy was about to say no, when a little devil with a pitchfork prodded her. "I really should. I go three days a week."

"Can't you go tomorrow?"

"But that would break my routine," she answered.

Devlin took a deep breath, preparing to argue until he got his way. "Oh, come on. Live dangerously."

"You could come with me," Buffy suggested. "I can bring a guest."

"At THIS hour of the morning?" He shook his head firmly. "No, thanks."

Buffy shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, turning to roll out of bed.

Before she could slip away, he grabbed her arm and hauled her back down. "Baby, you don't need to go the gym," he informed her, a wicked light dancing in his eyes. "I can give you a proper workout right here."

She melted under the heat of his gaze. "Can you?"

"Oh, yeah," he assured her, moving her beneath him. "I'll give you all the...exercise...you can handle, little girl."

Buffy pretended to consider the offer. "Well...all right. But I have to take a shower first."

He just grinned at her. "Lead the way."





Part nineteen...


"Buffy...oh, Christ, baby...you're so tight...so hot...sweet...yes...there...there..."

Morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen, with tiny dust motes dancing in it.

Spike's hands held her securely around her waist, keeping her from sliding backwards on the Formica counter as he pounded into her. She held on by wrapping her fingers around the hard muscle of his biceps.

Almost delirious with pleasure, Buffy had to release her hold on him and place her hands on the counter, slightly behind her. With her legs encircling his waist, she could lift herself to meet every deep thrust.

When her head tipped back and exposed her creamy throat, he lunged forward and licked it from the hollow at it's base, all the way up to the point of her chin. Seeking the moist sweetness of her lips, he kissed her hard, plunging his tongue into her mouth.

Wanting to get closer...needing to go deeper, he curved his right arm around her waist and pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. Then, urging her to lie down all the way, he slipped his hands beneath her thighs, lifting her bottom until it lost contact with any hope of support except him.

His eyes were shut tight with concentration as he pumped harder and faster. Sex had never been this good before. With Buffy, he felt like he was sliding into warm cream, and lying against soft pillows. Her body was so responsive to his lightest touch that it excited him past the point of coherent thought. Whenever he put his hands on her, the rest of the world fell away into a void he had no interest in searching for. Everything he wanted was right here...here in this sun-warmed little kitchen.

He drove himself into her, harder and deeper, listening to the soft moans and half whispered words coming from her throat. He opened his eyes and found her staring up at him in amazed wonder.

It was a breathtaking sight. Her skin was damp and flushed a light shade of pink, and her green eyes were glassy. The heavy wealth of her honey brown hair was spread beneath her like a halo.

She was absolutely the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"I'm...I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked.

Buffy shook her head, no.

It wasn't enough. "Tell me," he insisted. "Tell me how it feels for you."

She didn't really know what to say, being unskilled in the art of "pillow talk", and too shy to use the descriptive words he'd been saying to her.

He tried to help her. "Does it feel good, babe? Do you like what I'm doing to you?"

Now, there was a question she could answer!

"Yes," she nodded. "I love...it. I do....."

Sliding his hands beneath her back, he lifted her up. "Hang on, love," he directed, moving backwards and sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

Amazed that he'd been able to perform this maneuver without breaking their connection, Buffy quickly discovered that this new position had definite advantages. With her sitting on his lap and facing him, she could balance her feet on the rungs of the chair and lift herself up and down.

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he buried his face against her soft throat, kissing and licking it as she bounced on his lap.

His mouth found hers, and they kissed with passionate intensity. His tongue delved deeply into her mouth, tasting the softness of her inner cheeks and dancing on the edges of her small, white teeth.

Bodies pressed close, they rocked together, groaning and panting with every deep, gliding thrust.

Buffy was close...so close to the spectacular finish he'd been priming her for. Her fingertips moved over the smooth flesh of his shoulders and up his neck, finally meeting around his face. He kissed and nipped at the soft pads, sucking each finger and swirling his tongue around it.

His hands suddenly moved down, briefly squeezing her breasts before they found her waist. Lifting her just a little, he began to slam his hips up harder and faster.

Her breathing became ragged and sharp, and she clutched at his shoulders again, hanging on.

Their eyes met, and stayed locked on each other.

Buffy came first, her hips grinding down hard on him as her sex milked him in violent spasms, demanding every drop he had to give her. She cried out his name, and fisted her hands in his hair almost to the point of pain.

Devlin's control snapped. Taking a tighter hold on her, he began pumping even harder, gliding wetly in and out of her. Shouting hoarsely, he came, spurting what felt like a gallon of semen up inside of her.

When it was over, their breathing began to slow and the sweat began to dry upon them.

Nuzzling the side of her face, he laughed a little.

"Didn't we come down here for breakfast?"

Buffy smiled. "What was that we just had?"

"Call it an appetizer," he replied, kissing her cheek with a loud smack. "I'm starved. Want to go out to eat?"

She sat back and shook her head. "No. I want to dazzle you with my skill in the kitchen."

Grinning at her lecherously, he said, "Consider me dazzled, gorgeous. Or...was that not the skill you were referring to?"

"Very funny," she said. Giving him a slight shove, she looked around the floor. "Where did you throw my bathrobe?"

"Who knows?" he muttered, rubbing his chest against her bare breasts. "Who cares? Hey...come back here."

"Oh, no you don't." She dodged away from his reach- ing hand and scrambled off his lap. Their bodies separated with a moist, sucking sound, and they both made a face.

"Sorry about that," he said, sounding not the least bit sorry at all. "Bit messy, huh?"

Buffy snagged her robe and shoved her arms into it, feeling suddenly embarrassed about being naked in the kitchen. She excused herself to the bathroom, promising to fix him breakfast when she returned.

Halfway up the stairs, she heard him.

"Drop dead gorgeous, sweet and funny, loves kids, and she cooks, too!" he yelled. "Now I KNOW I'm falling, Miss Buffy!"

She almost walked into the bathroom without replying, then gathered up all her courage and leaned over the landing. "Me, too!" she yelled back, diving into the bathroom and locking the door when she heard him mutter some- thing under his breath and come running up the stairs.


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


She took great pains with her breakfast preparations, grateful that she actually had the food she wanted on hand.

After starting the coffee maker, she pulled a large cast iron skillet out of a lower cupboard. Dropping in a spoonful of cooking oil, she sliced potatos and onions into the pan, frying them until the potatos were a golden brown, and the onions translucent.. When they were finished, she put the skillet in the oven to keep warm, and cracked a half a dozen eggs into her large blue mixing bowl. Adding a little milk, she whisked the egg mixture around until it was frothy, then melted butter in another skillet and poured the eggs in.

Devlin sat and watched every move she made, asking questions and pestering her until she put him in charge of making toast to give him something to do with his wandering hands.

She set the table with her grandmother's china and crystal, placing a chilled carafe of orange juice in the middle. When the eggs began to set, she scrambled them to a fluffy turn and spooned them onto a serving plate.

Spike buttered toast, and searched through the fridge for jam. He found three different kinds, and placed all of them on the table.

Buffy removed the skillet from the oven and placed it on a trivet next to the juice container. Placing her crystal salt and pepper shakers within easy reach, she poured two mugs of coffee and grabbed her sugar bowl.

Before he sat down, Spike looked out the window and immediately headed for the door. Barefoot, wearing only his jeans, he snapped off a yellow rose from a bush in her next door neighbor's yard, then ran back in the house and presented it to her.

Well, she had to kiss him for it, and she did...quite thoroughly. Placing the rose in a glass of water, she announced that breakfast was served.

Spike pulled out a chair with a continental flourish. Taking her hand, he seated her gracefully, then kissed her fingers before he sat down next to her.

They talked of inconsequential things while they ate. He told her about where he'd grown up...some- where in the southern part of England, and she in turn revealed a few things about her own childhood.

He ate every scrap of food on his plate, praising it lavishly, and telling her that, while her skills in the kitchen were definitely not limited to the culinary, he certainly appreciated them at the moment.

Snitching the last piece of toast off her plate, he slathered it with a thick layer of boysenberry jam. Buffy poured more coffee into his mug, smiling when he dumped three large spoons of sugar into it.

She sipped her own lightly sweetened coffee, and considered the fact that for someone with his sugar laden eating habits, there wasn't an ounce of superfluous flesh anywhere on him. He was trim and lean, and very well built, and she had to force herself not to stare rudely at his bare chest.

It was really...really...difficult to do.


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


When the mantle clock in her living room chimed three, they were stretched out on her sofa kissing...making out was what she would have called it in high school...and they were both having a difficult time controlling themselves.

"Damn it," he swore softly, looking at the little clock as though he hated it. "I have to go. We're having a rehearsal today...some new material we're trying out on the tour."

Although he ordered himself to stand up and move away from her, the sight of her kiss-reddened lips drew him back for more.

A few moments later, Buffy pulled away. "I thought you had to go," she reminded him, holding him off with one hand on his chest.

"I do," he said, pushing her hand away and capturing lips again. "I'm going now," he added, trailing wet kisses up the side of her cheek.

Her eyes drifting shut with pleasure, she arched her throat, murmuring softly when he began nuzzling and kissing it.

"Temptress," he whispered in her ear, sucking gently on her lobe.

Shaking her head a little to clear it, she nudged him away. "Be good."

"I don't want to be good," he protested, wriggling his hips against hers. "I want to be bad," he added, smiling that killer smile of his. "I want to be bad with you...I want to be bad all over you." Slipping one hand up, he cupped her breast. "Don't you want to be bad with me, baby?"

She did. She really did. But....

Grabbing his hand, she pushed it away hard enough to shove him right off the couch.

"Hey!" he yelped, landing on his arse.

Before he could climb back up, she lurched to her feet. "You need to go," she told him, backing away.

Devlin rose to his knees and followed her. "Come here," he demanded, reaching for her.

She skipped back just in time. "No. Now, you get the rest of your clothes on, and I'll...don't...no, Spike, you can't...we can't..."

He'd jumped to his feet and was stalking her around the sofa. "Miss Buffy," he sing-songed. "You know I'll catch you, darling. Give in gracefully."

Buffy tightened the sash of her robe. "You have a rehearsal," she pointed out, using her best "teacher" voice. "Now, you go and get ready for it."

He stopped, surprising her a little. "Come with me."

"Who, me?"

"Yeah, come on. It'll be fun," he coaxed her, giving her that boyish grin she adored.

She hesitated. "The others won't mind?"

"Nah. I told you, love...it's my band. Come on."

She was wavering. "Well...."

Devlin sweetened the deal. "I'll sing you a song," he promised, tempting her shamelessly with his blue topaz eyes and charming smile. "A love song."

That clinched it. She was in!


CONTINUED...


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