Willow heard the phone ring. She went to her door and cracked it open so she could hear. She couldn't face Spike after her behaviour the previous night. She still couldn't believe she didn't go after him. She really needed to get some guts. She heard his husky voice as he spoke.
"Really? OK. Yeah, I'll leave her here. She should be safe. I won't leave her for that long though. See you then." He hung up.
Willow went into the living room, curiosity on her face.
"That was the watcher. Seems he might have found something. I'm going over there. You'll stay here." he said, refusing to look at her.
"OK" Willow said quietly.
She really wanted this week to end. The frustration was becoming too much. She watched as he grabbed his coat and left. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was the first time she had been alone in his apartment since this whole fiasco had began.
Her eyes strayed to his bedroom door. What harm could it do to take a peek? She could see his inner sanctum and then take a nap. She opened the door and went inside.
(He has a huge bed. My god, you could fit three people in it easily.) She went to his dresser and looked at the photos on top. Well, they weren't photos. They were sketches. One was of Drusilla and him. She looked at the other and gasped. It was her....as she had looked a year or so ago. Her hair was longer, but it was her. Both had been drawn by Angelus. (Why does he have a sketch of me? Why did Angelus sketch me? That is sort of sweet....) She opened his drawers and looked inside. She then moved to the closet. She pulled out one of his shirts and breathed in his scent. She then moved to the CDs. There was everything from classic rock to swing music, classical to country. He seemed to really like music. Her eyes wandered to his bed. She made her way over to it, and sat down. Her hand ran along the metal headboard, Giving in to temptation, she laid back. His pillow smelled faintly of peaches. Must be the shampoo. She closed her eyes and imagined what she would like to be doing in his bed. She felt that now familiar tingle. His scent surrounded her.
Her hand slowly ran along her breasts. She imagined that it was his hand caressing her. She felt herself growing wet. Could she do this? Would she ever have this opportunity again? Biting her lip, she moved her hand lower. The first contact of her cool fingers on her core was surprising. She knew then what he would feel like down there. Giving in to the fantasy, she pushed her panties down and dropped them beside the bed. She ran her fingers along her wetness...keeping the strokes fleeting, as he had done the night before. Slowly, she thrust one into her. She brought her other hand up to her chest. She unbuttoned her shirt the best that she could with that one hand. She kneaded her breasts, wishing it were his hands on her....She added another finger....then another. The tension was building. She roughly squeezed her nipple, knowing that Spike would not be that gentle. It was too overwhelming. Doing this in his bed....with his smell....She convulsed around her fingers, screaming his name.
She gasped in a few deep heavy breaths. Her eyes were still closed. Sighing, she settled back in his comfy pillows and drifted off to sleep.
Fate mopped his brow. He was sweating. Astonished,
he had watched Willow's private show. He had been bad. He never thought
himself a voyeur, but her innocent act had mesmerized him. Clearing his
throat, he went to find Luck.