All About Spike

Chapter: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15

Wicked Ways
By jodyorjen

PAIRING: Spike/Tara
RATING: NC-17 overall
SPOILERS: Season 6 through “As You Were”.
DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.
DEDICATION: For Colleen, the ficlet queen, whose love for “Moulin Rouge” inspired me to buy the DVD and fall in love with it. The beautiful love story and rich imagery of the film inspired this series.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Kudos to “Clerks” for the inspiration for the Quick Stop conversation. Kevin Smith is God. ‘Hindi Sad Diamonds’ from the “Moulin Rouge” soundtrack is the music Tara strips to in this story, so listen as you read. Tip of the hat to Annie, for the Judge line.
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it’s headed.
FEEDBACK: Sure, fire away to

Chapter 4

“She must be a really good lay, man.” I looked up at the skinny blond clerk at the Quick Stop.

“What?” I must be hearing things.

He gestured at the items he was ringing up. “Orange juice, donuts, Ben and Jerry’s, roses. Some chick has got you on a short leash.”

I bristled. “Bollocks.”

“Give it up. You’re out before the crack of dawn to fetch the little woman breakfast.” He leaned over the counter and grinned at me. “You’re whipped, dude.”

“I’m not whipped. We’re just friends,” I said lamely.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not even getting any pussy? That’s pathetic, brah.”

“It’s not like that. She’s a really nice girl,” I said defensively.

“That’s what she’s got you thinking. But the nice ones, they’re the ones you have to look out for.” He leaned over the counter conspiratorially. “That’s the kind of girl, you get a few drinks in her, give her an excuse to get loose, she’ll be sucking you harder than a vacuum cleaner.”

I shook my head, half-appalled and half-aroused at the extremely X-rated image that had brought to mind. “It’s not like that. She’s my roommate.”

“She must be a real hottie then,” he smirked knowingly. ”Cause you don’t go to all that trouble for an ugly girl.”

“She’s really beautiful,” I admitted. “The nicest pair of tits you’ve ever seen, and a face like an angel.” I smiled just thinking about her.

“You’ve got it bad, man. If you’re not going to get in there, may as well pick up some lotion and tissues on aisle 3.” He pulled out some magazines from behind the counter. “I think the spread in Hot and Horny’s pretty smokin’ this month, but if you’re a tit man, Blonde and Buxom is going to get you going.”

“Throw them in the bag.” He bagged my stuff and handed me my change.

“Word of advice, dude. You may not have the balls to go after her yourself. But how are you going to feel when you have to listen to her getting a groove on with someone else while you’re alone holding your dick?” He sat back down in his chair, resting his feet on the counter. I grabbed my bag and left the store.

I lit a cigarette and set off for home. I thought about what that idiot clerk had said. Listening to someone else make Tara come. Hearing those sweet little hitching noises that she made, interspersed with someone else’s groans. Someone else touching her, tasting her. A snapping noise brought me back to myself. I had clenched the bag so tightly I’d crushed something inside. I stopped and peered inside the bag. The donut box was twisted. I looked up at the sky. Dawn was closing in fast, and I didn’t have time to go back and get more.

I jogged through the cemetery, making it to my house with just a few minutes to spare. I went into the kitchen and opened the freezer, replacing the pints that Buffy and I had eaten the night before. I got fresh place mats for the table and made it up, putting the flowers in a milk glass vase. Unpacking the donuts revealed that only one had been damaged. I ate that one as I laid out the rest on a platter. I looked at the Kit-Cat clock that hung on the wall, its eyes and tail wagging back and forth. She was an early riser; she’d be up soon.

I smoked and waited, tapping my fingers on the table. I kept peering at the hands of the clock. Ten, fifteen minutes ticked by, unbearably slowly. I could go in and wake her. That would be too much of a temptation though. I grew hard just thinking about her. It was torture, knowing she was in my room, warm and willing. But then again, I didn’t have to do anything sexual. I could just snuggle with her; give her a peck on the cheek. That was friendly, nothing wrong with it. I stubbed out my cigarette and left the kitchen.

I opened my bedroom door and found it empty. I opened Tara’s door and looked inside. She was sitting cross-legged in front of a small altar, meditating. She was fully dressed, her hair up in a crown of braids. She sat still for several minutes, and I watched her. She looked peaceful, a small smile on her face. She opened her eyes and extinguished the incense and candles that was burning.

She turned to me with a smile. “Good morning, Spike.”

“Do you do that every morning?” I asked curiously.

“I try to. It helps me keep focused, and keep in mind what’s important.” She looked at me searchingly. “You look horrible. Have you been up all night?”

“I was too keyed up to sleep,” I admitted. “I’m exhausted.”

She came to me and led me to my room. She pulled off my duster and boots and had me lie down on my sleeping bag. “Close your eyes.” I complied, and her gentle fingers massaged my brow. A sweet, heavy feeling overcame me. Her fingers ran over my face, and slid down my neck. I felt so good, and so calm. My head was filled with her scent, something delicate, slightly spicy. I tried to put my finger on it, but it kept slipping away.

I must have dozed, but I didn’t remember falling asleep. I wandered down the hallway and into the kitchen to find Tara sitting at the table. I looked at the clock in surprise. Nine in the morning. Apparently I had done a bit more than just doze. “Whatever you did, I feel amazing,” I told her. I grabbed a bag of blood from the fridge and sat down next to her. She sipped at a glass of juice as she flipped through a magazine.

She looked up at me, her eyes clear and wide. “Do you think this is sexy? Does this turn you on?” she said hesitantly, holding up the magazine.

I looked over at a picture of a bottle blond with a pair of gigantic fake breasts. She stared into the camera as she sucked on a monstrous, prominently veined dick. I snatched the magazine from Tara’s hands. “What the hell are you doing with that?”

“You left the bag on the table next to the flowers,” she said, gesturing to it. “I thought it was something for me.”

I grabbed the bag. “They’re mine.”

She looked at me shyly. “I thought that maybe you were trying to tell me something. That this was what you liked, what excited you.”

I stood up and tossed the bag into the wastebasket. “You weren’t supposed to see those.”

She followed me. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” she said. “You’re a guy, that’s what guys like.”

“It’s not what I like,” I said through clenched teeth. “It’s-“

“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “You shouldn’t apologize for what arouses you.”

“You’re what arouses me,” I said roughly. Her eyes widened. We looked at each other for a minute, and-- I burned to kiss her, and I could tell that she wanted it. The heat between us was palpable, undeniable.

“Paint chips,” she blurted out.

“What?” My desire was tempered by confusion.

Tara went over to the table and picked up a stack of paint chips, arranging them on the table. “What do you think of this beige for the dining room?” she asked, her voice a little higher than usual.

She’d decided to ignore what I’d said. Smart girl. It was best not to go there; best thing for her. I played along. “I like it,” I replied.

She gestured to a blue chip. “I like this one for my room.”

“Very pretty,” I said, trying to sound friendly and non-threatening.

She took a doughnut from the platter and munched nervously. “Can we pick up the paint from the Super Mart tonight?”

“If I go to the mall I can do it during the day.” Underground parking garages made for a combustion free shopping experience. “Then we could go buy furniture tonight.”

“That would be great. After class I’m going to the costume shop you suggested to get something for my audition, so I won’t be back until after 4.”

“Do you want me to help you pick out a costume? Give you any advice on that?” Spending a few hours watching her try on skimpy costumes for stripping sounded like a very enjoyable form of torture.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be nervous enough just looking at myself in them.” She stood up and put her backpack on. “Thanks for the breakfast and the roses.” She blushed. “Pink ones are my favorite. See you later,” she said and hurried out. She fascinated me, intrigued me. A beautiful mind in a beautiful body. I wanted to know everything about her, to understand what was important to her.


I stood in the Magic Shop browsing through the titles of the books on the shelf. “The Witches’ Way.” “The Spiral Dance.” “Positive Magic.” I pulled down them all and took them to Anya at the register.

“Are these good books? Would you recommend them?” I asked.

She looked at the titles. “These are excellent introductory books on Wicca, Spike. Who are they for?”

“They’re for me. I want to learn what Tara believes in, understand more about her.” She gave me an assessing look. “We’re roommates now,” I explained. “I just want to get to know her better.”

“When did you move in together?” Anya looked very interested in my news.

“Yesterday. We rented a house right outside Calverton Cemetery.” I described the house.

“Oh, yeah, that creepy one. When are you going to have the housewarming?” Anya asked.

“I hadn’t thought about having one.” But Tara would really enjoy that.

“We were all going to go to the Bronze tonight, but we do that almost every Friday. Why don’t you have a party tonight? Xander and I will invite all the Scoobies. We’ll bring wine.” She smiled.

“Come by at nine,” I said. “I’ll take all of these books. And can I get some of that incense that Tara really likes?”

“Night Queen, sure.” She rang me up and handed me the paper sack.

I handed her the money. “I have to get going. I need to go pick up some paint and brushes for the house and be home by four.”

“Why don’t you take Xander? His job got rained out so he’s just sitting around the house eating Cheetos. And he knows a lot about paint. He’ll tell you what to buy.”

I pulled the paint chips out of my duster pocket and handed them to her. “Tara told me to buy these. She liked these colors.”

“You don’t have to buy that brand of paint, Spike,” she explained. “They can tint any brand of paint to make these colors.”

“Oh.” What I knew about paint could be transcribed on…well, a paint chip.

“Just call Xander. He loves this handyman kind of stuff.” She smiled at me. “You, the man of the house. It’s very surreal.”


“Did you know they have paint that looks like leather?” I showed Xander the display. “Look at this.” I held out the brochure. “You use these little tools and things to give it texture.”

He looked at me quizzically. “Are you feeling alright?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, why?”

“You’re excited about paint,” he observed.

I wanted to deny it, but I couldn’t. “But it’s really cool paint. Just look at it.”

He rolled his eyes and looked. “Hey that’s neat. They even have a kit that makes a rippling effect, like satin.” I looked at the picture.

“We’re doing the dining room in this champagne color.” I pulled out the paint chip and showed it to him.

“That would look amazing in the satin texturing,” he said, becoming interested in spite of himself. We looked at each other. “OK, I’m feeling very womanly now, and I’m in the middle of Home Depot,” said Xander. “There is something seriously wrong with that.”

“Let’s go look at power tools,” I suggested.

“Nothing like a chain saw to make you feel like a real man,” Xander commented.

“I’ve always liked nail guns, myself.” He laughed and we headed for the tools department.


Xander and I carried in the last batch of stuff from our shopping excursion. “This is a really nice place you’ve got here,” he said as we walked into the kitchen. “Of course it would look better with furniture.”

“Tara and I are going out tonight to get some stuff.” He placed cans of beer into the refrigerator while I put bags of chips and pretzels into the pantry.

Xander looked at his watch. “We should go now. Better to have us lugging heavy boxes of furniture than Tara.”

“I’d be afraid to pick out something that she wouldn’t like.” I really wanted Tara to be happy here.

“You live here too, Spike. You shouldn’t let her make all the decisions,” Xander reminded me.

“Right. That’s why you really put your foot down with Anya,” I smirked at him.

“That’s different. Anya is the woman I love. Her happiness is the most important thing to me. Tara’s just your roommate.” He cracked open a beer and sat down at the table.

“I want to make Tara happy, too. I mean not that I love her, because of course, I don’t. But I just want to do everything I can to make sure that she likes it here, that she likes being with me.”

“Being roommates doesn’t mean she wants to spend time with you. We were roommates and it wasn’t exactly a bonding experience,” he reminded me sarcastically.

“This is totally different. Tara and I have a great time together. Even just doing nothing, sitting around and watching the telly.” How much did he know about the hurt Willow had caused her? “She’s had a really hard time lately, she’s been down. I make her smile, make her laugh.”

“It’s nice of you to be there for her, give her someone to lean on.” Xander nodded in agreement. “I know she’s had a hard time since the break up. But she’s going to get past this, and she’ll be back in the swing of things. She won’t need you anymore.”

“What I need isn’t important,” I said truthfully. “Making her happy is the only thing I care about right now.”

He looked at me accusingly. “Oh, no. No, Spike.”

“What?” I was a bit confused.

“I know this look. This look that you’re looking. You like her.” He looked dismayed.

“Of course I like her,” I said defensively. “She’s a wonderful person. Everyone likes her.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. You like her in a boy liking girl way. Like a wanting to kiss her way.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I was grateful that vampires didn’t blush.

“You do. I can see it in your face.” Xander looked very annoyed. “What is wrong with you, Spike? This is even crazier than your crush on Buffy. And that didn’t turn out very well, did it?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I said dryly.

“Tara’s gay, Spike. She likes girls, not guys. And she loves Willow, our friend Willow. Even assuming that she ever did want to be with you, you couldn’t do that to Will.”

“Well, since it’s never going to happen anyway, no use worrying about it. I know I’ve got nothing to offer her. She’d have to be insane to love me.” I smiled bitterly.

Xander’s annoyance faded at my words. “You know this isn’t about Tara, Spike. This is about you being lonely. Isn’t there a nice vampire girl that you could date?” He looked at me quizzically. “Is there such a thing as a nice vampire girl?”

“I’m sure there are. I’ll take out a personal ad in the Vampire Weekly. Evil disgusting thing seeks same for kinky, debauched sex. Bad girls need not apply.” Xander snorted with laughter and I joined in.

The door to the hallway slammed open and Tara walked in. She was carrying an assortment of plastic bags. Her hair was newly tinted a brighter shade of blonde and rolled over her shoulders in gentle waves. “What did you do to your hair?” I asked. Xander gave me a dirty look. “Not that I don’t like it. It’s very pretty.”

“I just wanted something a little different, that’s all.” She smiled at Xander. “What do you think of the house?”

“It’s very nice. The location is a little creepy, though.” He finished off his beer and stood up. “I’m going to get going now.”

“Thanks for all your help today, Xander.” It really had been kind of fun.

“No problem. See you guys tonight at the party.” He waved at us and left the room.

Tara pulled a coke out of the fridge and sat down next to me. “What party?”

“We’re having a housewarming party tonight,” I told her.

Her face lit up. “That’s a great idea. Who’s coming?”

“All the Scoobies. I’m going to call and invite a few of my friends as well.” I gestured to the wall. “The phone is working now.”

“I think I’ll invite some of the girls from my Wicca group.” She smiled at me. “So should I go out and get food and drinks and stuff?”

“Taken care of.” I opened the now full refrigerator with a flourish. “Xander and I picked everything up.”

“We won’t be able to get the furniture though, not if we’re having a party,” she said a little ruefully. “I was sort of looking forward to a real mattress.”

I tried to banish the thought of Tara on a mattress from my mind. “It’s not until nine. We have between sundown and then to go get the furniture and bring it back.” I smiled at her. “So do you want to get started on the painting now?”

She held up her bags. “I have everything I need for my routine, so I should go practice. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to show you.”

“I eagerly await it,” I said. “I’ll be in my room reading.”

“I’ll let you know when I want you,” she said with a smile.


“I need a pep talk,” said Tara nervously. I sat on the floor of the loft next to the boom box and a stack of CD’s.

“You’ll be amazing and wonderful,” I reassured her. She climbed up the ladder and stood in front of me, wrapped in her afghan. Tall gold spike heels were on her feet, and a golden halo rested on her head.

“I’m embarrassed,” she admitted. “I feel ridiculous.”

“Just show me, pet. Don’t be afraid,” I said. She unclenched the blanket and let it fall. She wore a sheer bodysuit, with large feathery wings attached. “You look so beautiful.”

She stepped a few feet away from me and turned her back. “Okay, turn on the music.” I began the track she’d selected and leaned back to watch. The music began, a slow, plaintive tune with a Middle Eastern feel. Tara danced nervously, her eyes closed tightly shut. Her body language telegraphed how uncomfortable and awkward she felt.

I turned off the music. “Come here for a minute.” She walked over and looked down uncertainly. I took her hand and sat her down gently beside me. “You need to relax, or this isn’t going to work.” I handed her my flask. “Here, take a few sips.” She took a few gulps and handed it back. I scooted around behind her and rubbed her neck. She was locked with tension. I worked her neck with my hands until she was calm and relaxed. “Better?” She nodded, and turned around to face me. “I’m here for you, pet. You feel scared, just look in my eyes.”

Tara stood up. “I can do this,” she said determinedly. I turned on the player again, and she turned away. The song began, and she turned to look at me. She stared into my eyes and began her dance. She moved slowly and sensuously as the song began. Her hands drifted slowly through the air, her hips swaying with the movement. The music continued as she twirled, her hair flowing around behind her.

The song changed rhythm, and became a pulsing, throbbing beat. She gazed into my eyes, and I felt the hairs rise up on the back of my neck. She smiled sexily as she pulled the halo off her head and tossed it aside. With a shrug of her shoulders the angel’s wings fell away. She spun away quickly, and a blur of white flew away from her. She did a kick as the song pounded into high gear. She wore only a small golden thong now. She bent back her long neck and her breasts shone lightly with sweat.

I was overwhelmed by a wave of arousal as she made eye contact with me. My nipples and cock hardened in response, and my blood raged with desire. She spun wildly in circles, her eyes always on me, in me. It was like she looked straight inside me, stripping away everything, getting straight to the heart of what I wanted. She spun faster and faster, and my passion grew and grew, until I was right on the precipice, ready to burst, quivering with anticipation. Her eyes blazed with heat. I stood up and went to her, and she spun into my arms. She stared up into my eyes, her breath coming in fast gasps, and I was lost, swept under by her beauty, her power.

I claimed her mouth with mine, sinking my hands into the soft cloud of her hair. Her arms locked around my waist, and she pressed against me urgently. Our kiss was primal, raw, an elemental force that fired my body, made my blood burn. She pulled away and caught her breath, and I pressed my mouth to her throat, licking her, tasting the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her skin. She moaned, and the sound went right to my cock, making my arousal painfully intense. I slid my mouth down her chest and gently licked her nipple. Her nails dug into my shoulder as I sucked lightly, scoring her gently with my teeth. I moved my mouth to her other breast. Our bodies were so right together. She felt so good, so perfect for me. My body was alive with lust, drenched in passion. I needed her, wanted her, more than I had ever wanted anything.

She pulled away from me. “Stop now, stop,” she said. “I c-can’t, please don’t.” My desire died as I saw her anguish, her fear.

“I wasn’t going to do this,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

“This is too much, I feel like I’m drowning,” she said, shaking.

I was so angry with myself. I knew this would happen, I knew I’d hurt her. “This was stupid, so wrong,” I said. “I knew this would be a mistake.”

She looked at me with horror in her eyes, and backed away. She pulled her afghan around her and rushed down the ladder. I roared in frustration and pounded my fists into the stone wall. Stupid bastard. Horny, selfish git. I punched the wall over and over, furious with myself. I’d scared her silly, made her afraid.

I used to thrive on the fear, embrace the rush of seeing that look in a girl’s eyes. Now I just felt sick. I felt disgusted with myself.

I heard the front door slam. I hurried down the ladder and through the living room. I pulled open the door and ran outside. Sunlight hit my skin and I yelped and ran back inside. I stood in the doorway and watched Tara running down the path as fast as she could, her coat and skirt streaming out behind her. Fleeing as fast as she could, to get away from me.


I sat in my room, smoking cigarettes and watching the television. Dusk had fallen and the crickets had begun to sing outside. I wondered where she was; if I’d horrified her so much she didn’t ever want to see me again. What the hell had I been thinking, grabbing her when she was nearly naked, forcing myself on her? I heard the door slam and music began playing next door from her room. I stifled the urge to run to her immediately, to beg her to forgive me. I made myself smoke another cigarette and calm down a bit, then slowly stood up and went in the hall. Tara stood on a ladder in her room, rolling pale blue paint on the wall. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. “I was afraid that you’d decided not to come back,” I said. She hesitated a moment and came down the ladder. She leaned over and turned off the music.

“I will leave if you want me to,” she said. She looked up at me soberly. “I’m sorry that I led you on. I shouldn’t have started something with you that I didn’t intend to finish.” She fiddled with her paintbrush as she stared at the floor. “I got swept away, and I panicked. I felt so out of control, and it really scared me.”

“I took advantage of you,” I said. “You are so sweet and kind and good. I never should have touched you to begin with. It was a mistake. I wish I could take it back.”

She turned away and put her music back on. “Just forget it ever happened.”

“If that’s what you want.” She didn’t answer me, just kept painting the wall. “Do you still want to go buy furniture? We have a few hours left before the party.”

“Fine. I’ll just finish what I’m doing here.” She kept at her work, turned away so that I couldn’t see her face. I wanted to tell her how much it had meant to me, being with her. How what I felt for her was so rich, so deep that it frightened me. How much I wanted to know her, to learn her secrets, to share everything with her. But it felt too close to something I didn’t want to define, too close to the edge of something impossible. So I didn’t say anything.


We stood in a large furniture warehouse, in front of a display of coffee tables. “Do you like this one? The Danish modern looking one?” I asked her, pointing it out.

“It’s fine,” she replied.

I turned to look at her. She’d had the same bland expression on her face since we left the house to come here. I’d selected a couch and an entertainment center alone, with her readily agreeing to the first thing that I pointed out. “I’m showing an interest,” I pointed out. “I care about our house. I want it to look nice.”

“That’s great,” she said flatly.

“Is something wrong?” I asked her. “Why are you acting this way?”

“I’m not acting any way,” she replied. “I’m acting calm and rational.”

I pulled at the sleeve of her coat and turned her to face me. “Will you stop acting like a Vulcan? What is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” she said. “There’s nothing to have a problem about, is there?” There was an edge to her voice that I didn’t understand.

“No, there’s no problem at all,” I said, confused. “So can you please be nice to me and help me pick out a coffee table?”

“I wouldn’t want to make a mistake,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to make a decision you’d regret later.”

“It’s just a coffee table, pet. It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter a bit in the grand scheme of things.” I tried to be reassuring.

“It does matter,” she said vehemently. “Things don’t lose meaning just because you say so.”

Bloody women, an eternal mystery. “If you don’t like it, we can just take it back,” I said in a soothing tone I hadn’t used since Dru. “We’ll get another table, one that suits you better.”

She looked so sad. “I don’t want another table. I chose the one I wanted.”

I looked around. “Which one did you want, sweetheart? I had no idea that you liked any of them.”

She gave me an angry glance and walked away. I fought the urge to turn around and smash all the tables to bits. My hands clenched. What the fuck was wrong with the girl? I spotted her standing in front of a display of beds. I came up behind her. “This looks like a nice, sturdy bed,” she said. I followed her gaze to a cast iron bed with a large headboard wrought like lilies.

“Yeah, looks like it would hold up well,” I said, happy to see her showing interest in something.

She walked over and yanked hard on the metal. “It seems strong,” she said. “Like it wouldn’t bend if you made it bang into the wall over and over.” She looked me straight in the eyes, and I saw something shimmer within them.

My blood heated. “Vampires are very strong,” I said in a low voice. “They’d have to be very careful not to break it.”

“Not a problem,” she said. “Only humans will be sleeping in my bed.” She met my gaze. “Or not sleeping.”

The image of some faceless person between Tara’s legs flared into my mind. I growled. “Don’t you tease me about fucking someone else, Tara. You’ll see a side of me that you don’t want to see.”

“What do you care? You don’t want me,” she said. How could she possibly think that?

“I burn for you. I want you, crave you with all that I am.” She turned and looked into my eyes.

“I don’t understand. You said what we did was stupid, you said it was a mistake,” she said painfully.

“The mistake was scaring you, making you run away,” I said. “Not what we did.”

“I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared of myself. I was scared of how I felt,” she said. “I’m not supposed to feel this way for you. Being with a man and not a woman was overwhelming. I’m still sorting it all out in my head.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I was devastated when you said it was a mistake.”

Everything clicked into place. “I’m sorry, pet. What happened with you today, it meant so much to me.”

She looked away. “I don’t know if I can believe that.”

I lifted her chin and looked into her big, sad eyes. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Give me a chance to make it up to you.” My heart ached in my chest.

“I’ll think about it,” she said quietly. I ran my hand through her hair, and she smiled. Maybe I hadn’t blown it after all.


“Who writes these directions?” I asked as I threw down the sheet of paper. “I don’t think they speak English.”

“It’s Scandinavian furniture,” Tara pointed out. “It was written by a Swede.” Our living room was full of flat boxes of assemble it yourself furniture.

“Why exactly did we buy all our furniture from this place?” I asked.

“Because we could fit most of the boxes in the car and save money doing it ourselves,” she reminded me.

I looked at the pieces strewn everywhere. “This is pathetic. I used to be an evil mastermind and now I can’t even assemble a bloody sofa.” I sprawled backward on the floor. “Putting together the Judge was easier than this.”

Tara sat down next to me. “Cheer up, grumpy man,” she said. She tickled me lightly under my armpits.

“Vampires aren’t ticklish,” I informed her.

“You’re a big liar,” she countered. “Your jaw is twitching.” She dug her fingers mercilessly into my ribs. I grabbed her and pulled her on top of me.

I moved my hands to her ribs to tickle her, accidentally brushing against her breasts. “Sorry,” I said, dropping my hands. Her hands stilled on my chest and slid down, caressing me as she stared in my eyes. I saw it again, the fire, the desire for me.

“Kiss me?” she asked hesitantly. I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Spike, please kiss me.” She sounded a bit surer of herself that time.

I pulled her down and pressed my lips gently against hers, lightly running my hands over her back. My face was enveloped in the curtain of her hair. I teased her lips apart with the tip of my tongue, flicking it inside her mouth briefly and then withdrawing it. She grabbed the back of my head and kissed me deeply. Her hands moved to my buttons. She pulled away and opened my shirt, bending her mouth to my chest and sucking on my nipple.

I moaned and resisted the temptation to grab her ass in both hands to press her against me. I had to let her explore my body at her own pace if I didn’t want her to get frightened again. “Sweetheart, you feel so good,” I said. She moved to the other nipple, nipping at me gently with her teeth. A knock rapped loudly on the front door.

She pulled away and looked at me, puzzled. “Bloody hell,” I said, remembering.

“The housewarming,” she said, her eyes wide. She got up and went out of the room. I walked to the door, adjusting my erection. I swung open the door and there stood Buffy and Willow.

Continued in Chapter 5

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