She sat, stirring her drink with her finger, looking extremely
bored. He
liked that. He didn't like this place either. A hopelessly
hip club, filled
with hopelessly hip teenagers lost in their own angst
and adolescent
isolation.
Posers.
He crossed the floor, the crowd seemed to part for him
and then melt back
together. She barely noticed as he approached her table.
She looked right
through him.
"'ello," he said, in an accented voice so husky she wondered
what was going
on in that blonde head. Her huge emerald eyes snapped
to his face, her red
hair falling over them.
It was not a nice face. Handsome, yes. But with a wolfish,
predatory quality
she didn't quite trust. That didn't mean she didn't want
to learn more.
"Hello," she said, simply, trying not to sound impressed.
"Anyone sitting here?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
He had watched
as she sat alone for the past hour. Occasionally checking
her watch and
looking irritated.
"Well, I was supposed to be meeting my boyfriend, but
he hasn't shown up
yet," she said, her eyes were boring holes into him.
She could see right
into him and he knew it. And so did she.
She smirked slightly, never losing eye contact with him.
"His loss," he shrugged. "Any fool that would leave such
a beautiful woman
unattended derserves to lose her. Would you like some
company?"
"Not particularly," she shook her head. "And no one left
me unattended. I'm
not a shopping cart."
He chuckled. This one did not fall for cheap lines. She
had scars. He liked
that, too. He liked a challenge.
"I think we're getting off on the wrong foot here," he said.
"We're not getting off at all," she said, sounding tired
and very bored. She
slid off her stool and grabbed her drink.
"I'd say that's the problem," he said, gently seizing her wrist.
"Maybe for you," she smirked. "If you'll excuse me, I
have more interesting
things to do."
He chuckled, watching her make her way across the crowded
dance-floor
towards the ladies room.
Round 1, Red.
She emerged from the bathroom, running her fingers through
her hair. She
actually sort of bad for brushing him off the way she
did, but she hated men
who just assumed she was up for grabs. Morons.
She walked past the dark corner behind the soda machine.
A pale pair of
hands lunged from the darkness and pulled her in. Her
body was pressed
against him. He smelled of leather and tobacco. His cool
lips smothered
hers. She gasped pushing herself back. Faint red light
outlined his pale
features. She reared back and slapped him.
She shook her smarting palm. He grinned and pressed her
stinging palm to his
cold lips. It was his turn for eyes to bore into her.
Her breath drew ragged, praying to God no one walked down
the hall. He
growled as she seized his mouth, plunging her clever
little tongue between
his lips. He sucked it lovingly, pushing her skirt up
her hips. No
underwear, he grinned against her busy lips.
Her fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper. His
erection sprang
free. He whimpered as her warm fingers closed around
his cold flesh.
He pulled at her ass, wrapping her legs around his waist.
His mouth caught
her cry as he entered her. He panted unnecessarily, her
heat seared him as
he began to thrust into her.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pressing his mouth tighter
against hers. He
bucked her harder, driver deeper. Her hot tight wetness
clenched around him
as she neared climax.
"Say it," he growled.
"What?" she gasped. Her muscles twitched and tightened,
he screamed as he
came inside her.
"Give up, yet, Red?" Spike whispered, biting her earlobe
gently. "Have I
won?"
"Not yet, Spike" Willow grinned, tightening her muscles
around him again,
making him gasp. "I like this game."
THE END