so shocking where's your sense
The bath I take as soon as I get home must've lasted for hours. I keep draining the tub partially and filling it up again so the water wouldn't get cold. I think I fell asleep at one point, so I climb out and head to bed so I wouldn't drown, 'cause this would be a bad time in my life to drown. But once in bed, I can't sleep. I just lay there,
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I could be myself around him, comfortable. I hope he can feel that way around me.
He takes my hand and I lace my fingers through his, feeling his skin warm up slowly against mine. My cheeks flush as he mentions hurting me. Yeah, I've got bite marks all over to prove that true. It's weird, I never used to be into that, I mean, not really, but with Spike, it's different. With him, pain is hard to avoid, and you don't really want to avoid it anyway.
I glance down for a moment, then back up at him. "I don't trust you," I say with a small smile, because it's true, I don't, I don't trust anyone, not even myself, "don't take it personally. But I've got a roommate that's not all there, so maybe we should avoid her."
Squeezing his hand lightly, I take a step towards him. "Let's go."
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"Don't take it personally, love. I don't really trust myself, either," and I frown slightly, even though the line was meant to come out lightly. I don't trust myself with her, and that's the truth, and maybe that's why this game appeals to me, cos it's taking me away from having to trust myself, to think of what's best even though it's against my nature.
We walk out into the dark, and the air is crisp. Her fingers are hot pressed against my palm, and she smells of smoke and salt and flowers.
I think about taking her back to my crypt, but it occurs to me that if Dawn didn't really know me, the idea of being shagged in a tomb would probably be disturbing. And if we go back there, all I'll think about is last night. I want tonight to feel different.
So I lead her down a narrow street to a darker part of town, to a place lit with a red neon light. The kind of hotel that rents by the hour, and the clerk asks no questions of a couple who smell of a nightclub and bring no luggage. We don't even talk. I just hand him a furl of bills and he gives me a key. The fob is of a ceramic heart, and we find out why when we reach the room. The bed is heart shaped too.
"Lovely," I say, raising my eyebrows at Dawn. Still, I like the place's anonymity... and the bundle of goods by the bed. Handcuffs and the like, all vaccuum sealed in plastic. It makes me laugh slightly, these sordid things so hygienically wrapped, and then I turn and kiss Dawn lightly, lightly on the lips.
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Story of my life.
We walk down the street, hand in hand, the punk and his club-kid girlfriend. My hand in his feels weird because it's so ordinary. Normal people hold hands. We fuck and destroy.
He leads me to a shady hotel, lit up all dim in an attempt to be dramatic. I can't help but giggle as we pay the clerk and get the key. That guy knows exactly what happens in this place and he's never in on the action. I toss my hair at him as we walk away, it's mean but I can't help but taunt him.
I laugh outright when I see the room. It's kind of cute, in a terribly cliche way. So damn tragic, the heart-shaped bed and all. And there's a bunch of things at the bedside which make me blush. This should be interesting. Spike turns and kisses me softly, and I kiss him back. Sliding my hands up his arms to wrap around his shoulders, I press my body against his and think that this is how these things should happen, gently and shyly, exploring and tasting.
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I step back after a minute. I take a lock of her hair in my hand and run my fingers through it. For a moment I think of how Buffy would stroke Dawn's hair and I feel a surge of grief, but then it's gone. That Dawn is gone, too, and now there's just her and me in a sleazy room, wondering where we go from here.
"Tell me what you want, love," I say quietly in her ear. I don't want her to do what I want, or for me to show her things that she'll like. I want to know what Dawn wants without my prompting. What would make her happiest, most satisfied tonight. Last night had been bloody amazing, and Dawn had loved it too, but it'd been on my terms. I want to see what her terms are. I smile at her in the gloom of the room. "Anything. You can't shock me. Not even with ordinariness," I add, the corner of my mouth curling upwards.
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I look over to the heart-shaped bed, covered with a red throw, and smile. Our surroundings are more amusing to me than anything else. It's so typical, like a bad soap opera or something, it's sooo romantic except it isn't. Except it is what we make it, I guess.
What I want. What do I want? Reaching down for Spike's hand, I lace my fingers through his, then look back up at him. My other arm I wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer, feeling the place where his heart should beat. What I want is him. But I guess what I want is to make up the chance that we never had, to meet, to sleep together for the first time, to get to know each other more intimately. Sex doesn't always mean intimacy.
There was intimacy last night, but of a very different kind. And as much as I love what Spike does, as much as I want it, I feel like we deserve that chance, that discovery.
Running my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, I look up at him, watching his mouth smile, watching his eyes watch me. "I won't tell you," I whisper, lips brushing against his cheek. "I'll show you."
And I pull him over to the bed.
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I squeeze her fingers gently. She strokes the back of my neck.
"I won't tell you," she whispers teasingly, her lips just touching my cheek, her breath warm. "I'll show you."
We move over to the bed and sit on its cheap satinette sheets. Better be careful I don't smoke in bed, I reckon. That stuff looks flammable.
I cup Dawn's jaw with my hand and trace her cupid's bow with my forefinger.
"Then show me, love," I say, lying down on the bed, my hands behind my head, looking up at her. "I'm all yours."
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"I'm all yours."
I smile, looking down at him. Good. Bending down, I quickly unzip my boots and step out of them, kicking them aside. Straightening up, I toss my hair over my shoulder, holding Spike's gaze for a moment while my fingers wrap around the bottom of my shirt. And then it's gone, off over my head and I shake down my hair, standing in front of Spike in only a bra and a skirt. I catch his eyes and hold the gaze, then move towards him.
On the bed, I straddle him, legs on either side of his hips, but our bodies don't touch. I bend down to kiss him, lightly, on the lips, then bite his lip gently as one of my hands slides down his body and under his shirt, sliding up his chest. I watch his eyes watching me and my heart speeds up.
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But then she takes off her shirt and drops it onto the shag pile carpet, and her hair is around her shoulders and bloody hell, she's a vision.
She climbs on top of me, her legs on either side of me, and her skirt rises up enough for me to see the bite mark on her thigh. It mades me hard in an instant. She kisses me gently, then bites my lip and her fingers graze my chest. It's hard work not to pull her down on top of me; I can feel the distance between us like a solid thing. But this is her show tonight. She's in charge. Not often I've let a woman be the one to call the shots, but I reckon it'll be good for Dawn. So instead I just look at her, watching her cheeks flush because her heart's speeding up, and enjoy the feel of her fingers against my skin.
"Whatever you want, pet," I say softly, "I'll do." I look at her lovely face and have to force myself not to move. "Anything at all."
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I kiss him quickly on the mouth and pull away, tugging his shirt off. I let my fingers run over the bare skin of his chest, watching the progress, the perfect paleness, the hard muscles, Spike's wonderful body that I've wanted for so long and that, finally, belongs to me, at least for now. And I can have anything...
We're not touching, except my fingertips on his chest. Reaching up to trace the curve of his cheekbone with one finger, I lower my head down, kissing his jaw and down his neck, over his chest, swirling my tongue over the bite mark that I left on his skin last night. My hair spills over his skin, and trails after me as I move up to kiss him again, this time slowly lowering my body down to his. My hips straddle his and I can feel him hard beneath me, the bare skin of my stomach is next to his and it makes me shiver. My skirt is short enough to ride up when I press down against him, and the friction makes me gasp quietly.
"I like it," I whisper against his mouth, "when you're on top." Yeah, you know what I like.
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