Chapter 22 - Velvet Night
The woman looking back at
her in the mirror would have been a stranger only a few months ago, but now
Buffy was becoming more comfortable with her.
She turned sideways to see how she looked in the velvet Armani dress
from the back. The black halter dress clutched
tight at her waist, lent her bottom the illusion of being curvier, or maybe she
was gaining weight. Her hand went to her stomach as
she gazed at that part of her anatomy.
No longer the hard abdomen of her cheerleading days, it was now a soft pooch
and she pulled her stomach in self-consciously.
“You’re
still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Will said from where he was
lounging against the doorframe of her bathroom.
“Don’t be thinking you’re anything else.”
Buffy
smiled at her husband, grateful for his words as she returned to peering at this
new woman. The expensive haircut, makeup
and dress had changed her on the outside, but she knew that she was changing on
the inside just as much. How could she
not when there was no longer any worries about paying the rent, or even if she
would have a place to live in a month?
The small inheritance from her mother was something Will and she could
drop in one afternoon of shopping.
Leaning forward, she checked her eye makeup before looking back at
William.
“I
was just thinking how easy my life has become since marrying you,” she said
honestly.
Will
straightened up, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her with suspicion. “Is that why you stay?”
“What
kind of silly question is that?” Buffy
asked, going to him. She slipped her
arms around him, hugging him as she tilted her head back so she could watch the
expressions on his face. “I love you,
Will. I just don’t want to become a
stranger because you have money. You
know the old Buffy was a little ditzy, but she had her good points. After all she won your heart.”
He
seemed to relax a bit. Finally, he put
his arms around her, and lowered his lips to hers in a kiss that was almost
desperately needy. It was sad that even
months after their wedding, he still questioned her affection for him. It was also maddening because shouldn’t he
trust her enough not to wonder about her feelings? Maybe she should call him on it, but somehow
she couldn’t.
Instead,
Buffy tightened her arms around him, squeezing him, rising on her tiptoes so
she could deepen the kiss. Taking
control, she slipped her tongue into the wet, warmth of his mouth, tasting the
cigarettes and the beer he’d finished earlier.
It was her William. Her hand
shifted to the back of his head, and into the soft curls that he hadn’t put gel
in yet, pulling him down to her as she explored his mouth.
His
body was tightening with the depth of her caresses. His cock hardened against her stomach,
pressing to find the friction it desired.
Making a decision that he was more important than anything else in her
life, Buffy kicked off one shoe, hooking her leg over his hip. It was all the encouragement Will needed,
reaching down; he pulled the hem of her dress upwards so it bunched around her
waist. She moaned when his hands cupped
her bottom, picking her up so that he could carry her to the bathroom
counter. He set her down on the cool
marble, never breaking apart from her lips.
Heat
was racing through her body, screaming for Will to make love to her until
nothing else mattered. Tugging at her
panties, Buffy wiggled around so he could drag them down her thighs. She kicked them off, not caring where they
landed because Spike was already pushing her legs apart.
Will
entered her with a forgetful disregard for her body’s preparedness. Like a man possessed, he pushed her back so
that she was leaning against the mirrored wall behind her, and pulled her
bottom closer to him. Buffy wrapped her
legs high around his waist, letting him take her with a roughness he rarely
showed. All she could do was hang on as
he thrust relentlessly into her body, thankful for its own self-preservation,
as her body grew wet to make the fucking a little easier. Somehow, she understood that he wanted to
brand her as his woman. Sometimes he
tried so hard to push her away, testing her, and Buffy refused to waver in her
love for him. The wounded look in his
eyes kept her there. He needed her,
unlike anyone else in the world.
Spike
nuzzled her neck, suddenly gentle, and she whispered to him. “I love you, William. I always will. No matter what.”
“I
know, pet.” He cradled her against him, changing his level of thrusting so she
was receiving more pleasure. “You scare me with how much you love me.”
Buffy
wanted to tell him that he was worthy of that love, but she kept silent. Sometimes it wasn’t how worthy he was; rather
it was her need to love that was more predominant. A sad situation that left them like two strangers
on a deserted island forced to depend on each other so they could survive. So, she just whispered. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.”
~~~~~~~
The
party was tedious. Buffy didn’t like
these events. She was accustomed to them
though, like the woman she’d gazed at in the mirror earlier. Keep
smiling, a little small talk, and don’t go against the norm for the people they
were with at the time. She sipped her
champagne, making a beeline for the sliding glass doors at the back of the
living room. A little fresh air and a
second of privacy was a necessity before she started screaming.
“Oh,
Buffy.”
It
was the soft voice of Chrissie, David Rollin’s trophy wife, signaling Buffy to
join her and a man, Buffy had yet to meet.
Plastering on the smile, she changed directions.
“Jon,
this is Buffy,” Chrissie introduced them with flawless social skills. “Buffy, Jonathan Burke. He’s a senior partner in the law firm of
Kellerman, Weiss, and Burke.”
“Hello,
Jon.” Buffy took his proffered hand,
shaking it with diffidence. She stepped back, studying him, and wondering if
she should know him. As far as she knew, she didn’t. “Do you work with David?”
Jon
laughed, shaking his head as he took another sip of his drink. “Not since his divorce.”
Jon
and Chrissie shared a conspiratorial glance, before Chrissie laughed. A
tinkling sound that resonated with a cruelty even Buffy could sense. “Oh, yes,” Chrissie laid a light hand on
Jon’s arm. “He made sure the bitch was
put in her place.”
The
two laughed, and Buffy chuckled out of sheer politeness, but she wondered if
the bitch deserved to be put in her
place. Chrissie seemed to be the typical
second wife who didn’t care about the woman she’d displaced, or the children
affected by their father marrying a woman close to their age. Well, maybe she could give Chrissie
reasonable doubt because from what Buffy learned from Spike, David’s children,
were all still young. Which made the
whole situation even more tragic. She
wondered if William wanted children.
The
hand once on Jon’s arm was now resting on Buffy’s, forcing her to return her
attention to the pair in front of her. She
crossed one arm over her middle as she took a sip of her champagne to give
herself a second to regroup.
“You’re
so lucky, Buffy,” Chrissie said. “You
don’t have to deal with the first wife.
Dru’s death was so tragic.” The
blonde rolled her eyes. “You don’t have
to worry when she’s going to call Spike with all of her little problems moving
on with her life.”
“Oh,
really Chris. It’s not like Spike would
have been the one to leave…it was Drusilla who was getting the itchy feet.”
“It
wasn’t her feet that were itchy.”
They
did that conspiratorial thing again, but this time Buffy straightened her back,
ready to defend William. Chrissie’s hand was still on her arm, it
tightened as they noticed the change in her mood.
“Buffy,
Spike is a wonderful man, and Dru wasn’t the best thing for him. These days he’s happier then I’ve ever seen
him.”
It
was a side to Chrissie that Buffy never suspected. There was almost a kindness to her word, and
the gaze cast her way. Everyone in this
town seemed to have an opinion about her husband and Drusilla. Yet, no one knew the truth, and if they did,
they were keeping quiet about it. Maybe
she should drop her questioning into what had happened to the first Mrs. Nagle,
and then it would remain this tragic event.
However, intense drama touched everything in this town. Where would that leave Spike? Still blissfully blind, and always a bit
insecure about Buffy’s intentions? Or would
the truth free him to be a confident man that could allow her to love him
without the constant reassurance? She
wanted that. She wanted Spike free.
“Thank
you.” Buffy smiled gratefully at
Chrissie, while squeezing the hand still on her forearm. “I love him, and I hope that I’m making him
happy.”
“Well,
then I guess you won’t be making the trek to
“Oh.” Buffy hadn’t realized that her glass was
empty. She placed it on tray, accepting
a full one from Jon. Her mind was
elsewhere as she went through these automatic movements. Earlier she knew that Jon’s name was
familiar, but she assumed he was one of the numerous players, William had
mentioned. He always came back from a
strategy meeting in full hyper-mode giving her a running monologue about
everything he’d done that day. Now, she
realized she knew Jon from somewhere else, and thoughts raced through her mind
while she tried to figure out where she’d seen his name. “I know,” she said, snapping her fingers so
suddenly that her companions jumped. She
laughed. “I’m sorry. I was trying to remember where I knew your
name from.”
“I
was wondering when you were going to make the connection,” Jon said, looking
over her head. “I hope that you won’t
let that color your opinion of me. I’m
not my partner.”
“Your
partner?” Buffy questioned. “I don’t understand. I found your business card in the penthouse.”
“My
partner was the one murdered in bed with Drusilla.”
~~~~~~~
The
conversation was boring. All business,
and Spike’s body was still humming from the loving he’d shared with Buffy
earlier. He scanned the room to find his
beauty, and stiffened when he saw she was speaking with Jonathan Burke. A man he considered partially guilty for
Dru’s death. Hurriedly excusing himself,
Spike made a beeline toward his wife.
Logically, there was no way he could keep Buffy from finding out all of
the truth, but still he wanted to keep her from learning it.
They
were silent when he stopped behind Buffy.
His hand slid around her waist, pulling her back against him. “Hello, Luv,” he whispered, kissing the curve
of her neck. He loved it when she wore
her hair up, leaving her throat exposed for him to nuzzle. She melted when he nibbled on a certain
spot. Spike looked up to look at the
other two. “Hello Chrissie…Jon.” His fingers were busy skimming over the silk
of her dress. Unmindful of the public situation as he reminded himself that
Buffy wasn’t wearing panties. It was his
request.
“Hi,
Spike.” Jon clapped him on the shoulder,
reaching around Buffy to give him the secret handshake to the fake club of
their peers. “I’ve been hearing nothing
but good things about this movie. It
sounds like a blockbuster.”
“I
hope so.” Buffy subtly pressed her
bottom against his front, waking his soft cock from its boredom-induced
slumber. He wondered if there was a
place where they could play. “It will be
David’s enthusiasm that will bring my characters to life on the big screen.”
“Who
do you want to play Lucy?” A mischievous
smile darted across Chrissie’s face as she noticed the play of Spike’s fingers
across Buffy’s hips. “Maybe Brad
Pitt? Or Nicholas Cage?”
“Too
well known.” Spike slipped his hand to cover Buffy’s abdomen. She released the breath she’d been holding,
causing her to lean back on his chest. He wished she were naked. “And too action oriented. Lucy’s got soul…despite his bad ass nature;
he’s got a soft side.”
“You
want to bank on an unknown to carry the movie?”
It was Jon, smiling jovially at him, as if they were long lost friends
or something. It irritated Spike. The memories of the day he’d identified
Drusilla’s body filtered through his mind, along with seeing Kellerman’s wife
there in the morgue hallway with Jon supporting her as she flailed out her
grief for everyone to see. He wondered
where she was these days, or if Jon was consoling the widow.
“Not
an unknown. Just someone who can fully
portray Lucifer’s personality.” Buffy’s
hand covered his on her belly, squeezing it reassuringly as his body tensed. “Not someone with a one dimension ability to
act.” Spike tilted his head. His cheek touched the twisted hair on top of
Buffy’s head, the connection making him tilt his hips forward. “Maybe that guy on CSI. The one who plays Warrick.”
“Might
work,” Jon commented. He shuffled his
feet a bit, sipping the drink in his hand.
“Well, I wish you luck in this new venture.”
“Thank
you,” Spike replied, holding his hand out.
The two men shook hands. The
encounter was over with, and Jon was walking away from them. Maybe later he’d have to find out what Jon
had revealed to Buffy. It irked him that
his past was open fodder to everyone.
Too bad that the murder hadn’t been made to look like an accident. It would have made his life simpler.
to be
continued…
