Title: Acting The Part
Author:
Pattyanne
[email protected]Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters
belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary:
AU. William St. James is
an actor in a hit television show.
While
appearing at a fan convention, he meets
Buffy and her six year old
daughter, Melanie.
Part twenty...
"A double X?"
she said, trying to look appalled at the
very idea. "Mr. St. James...I think
you're trying to corrupt
me."
He grinned, showing no repentance at
all. "Corrupting
you is going to be my new favorite thing to
do."
Deciding to turn up the corruption a few notches, Buffy
rolled
onto her stomach and stretched invitingly. The
swiftly drawn in breath she
heard him take told her she
was having the right effect.
His hand
curved around the swell of her bottom, fondling
and caressing it softly.
"Beautiful," he murmured.
She turned to look at him, her hair falling in
her eyes
as she reached for his hand.
Unsure of what she had in mind,
he allowed her to
pull and nudge him until he was on top of her, his
chest
pressed against her back.
A quietly explicit curse word fell
from his lips when
she lifted her bottom a little and rubbed it against his
groin.
Before she could say anything, William leaned forward
to
whisper in her ear. "You want it like this, baby? From
behind?"
Being
asked such a question would once have embarrassed
her, making her blush and
duck her head. But when William
asked it, it took on an erotic flavor that
she was beginning
to enjoy far too much.
She did want it like this,
from behind. This was no time
to be shy about it.
Peeking over her
shoulder at him, she smiled in what she
hoped was an enticing manner. "What
do YOU think?"
If the look on his face was any indication, he thought it
was
a splendid idea.
He sat up and nudged her legs farther apart,
then moved
up her body and began massaging her shoulders. It felt
so good
that she couldn't hold back a moan of pleasure.
William chuckled. "You
sound like a kitten purring." His
hands...his wonderful, skillful
hands...continued down her
body, stroking and rubbing until she was as limp
and pliable
as melting wax.
He purposely avoided an intimate touch as
he slid his
hands further down, caressing her rear and the tops of
her
thighs.
When she was certain that she couldn't wait one
more
moment, he lowered himself on top of her, pushing her
down into the
mattress. His erection nestled between her
thighs, slick and
hot.
"Lift up a little, babe," he directed her.
She elevated her
lower body a couple of inches, just
enough for him to slip one hand in and
play with her.
Her eyes drifted shut, and she dug her fingers into
the
pillow she was lying on.
"Do you like that? Does it feel good when
I touch you
like this?" He used one finger to stroke her clit,
stim-
ulating it to the point of madness.
'Feel good' didn't begin to
describe it. She actually
couldn't come up with a phrase that would be more
on the money. Her head was too dizzy and her body
was in a tumultuous
free fall. All she could do was nod
and whimper some sort of
agreement.
He seemed to understand what she was trying to get
across.
Sliding down just a little, he moved into position
and slowly began
penetrating her as he continued
massaging her clit.
Instinctively,
she raised her bottom, letting him slide
all the way in with one
stroke.
"Oh, god," he groaned in her ear, nipping at it. "I can't
get
over how tight you are...how wet."
With her cheek pressed against the
soft cotton pillow
case, Buffy could only sigh.
He bore her down under
his weight, pinning her to the
bed. "This is the way it was meant to be," he
said. "For
us. Knew it....the minute....I saw you...oh, Buffy...you
feel
so damn good."
They performed a lazy and erotic dance together,
pushing
and pulling, gasping and moaning. His lips trailed softly
over
the back of her neck, nipping at tender skin.
When he sensed her need, he
pulled out and rose to his
knees, tugging her hips back and up to meet his
next
thrust.
She keened softly in her throat while his hands moved
up and down her back, stroking her like a cat.
His thrusts became a
little harder, and she knew that
the finish line was in sight. Determinedly,
she pushed
back into him, meeting his pumping hips.
Their bodies
surged and writhed together in a wave of
sexual heat. He was driving her
wild, caressing her with
strong hands as he uttered husky encouragement,
begging her to push back harder, make it tighter, let
him all the way
in.
Then, when she almost there, he reached around with
one hand and
rubbed her clit firmly, sending her over the
edge into a mindless whirlwind
of release.
He followed right behind, forcing himself not to shout
her
name into the silent house.
When it was over, the sagged together in the
middle of
the bed, panting, trying to catch their breath.
William was
the first one to lift his head. "You okay?"
"Mm-hmm. I'm very much
okay."
"I was afraid I was being..."
"Being what?"
Gingerly, he pulled out of her and moved to one side.
"Too
rough...you know...towards the end."
Buffy took in a deep breath,
releasing it slowly. "No. You
weren't."
He took her hand and kissed
it. "I just...I don't ever want
to hurt you. You're so small."
"I may
be small," she told him, "but I'm pretty tough." Her
brow furrowed. "Was that
why you moved? Because you
thought you were hurting me?"
"Well..." he
shrugged. "A little, maybe."
Buffy smiled. She appreciated his
consideration and care,
but it was hardly necessary. Years of lying beneath a
man
who was taller and much stockier than this one had con-
ditioned her
for just about anything. William's slimmer
build and slighter weight never
made her feel as though
she was trapped under a fallen redwood.
"I
promise you weren't hurting me," she assured him. "I'd
tell you if you
were."
Returning her smile, he let the subject drop and pulled
her
close again. "This time YOU set the pace."
Buffy's eyes widened. "You
mean there's more?"
"Oh, there's a LOT more. I'll do anything you
want
me to, for as long as you
want."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Hmm...you should be careful
offering that. What if
it's something really perverse?"
His smile
turned playfully lecherous. "I'd count my
blessings."
**************************************************
Sunday
morning started way too early for Buffy
when a six year old crawled into bed
next to her and
announced that she was hungry.
After pushing, pulling,
and nudging her mother into a
sitting position, Melanie stood next to the bed
and grabbed
her hand, tugging and giggling as Buffy feigned sleep.
When her hand slipped out of Melanie's grasp, she fell
backwards on
the bed again, wrapping her arms around
a pillow and burying her face in
it.
"Mommy! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Melanie chanted,
clambering on
top of Buffy and sitting on her upper thighs,
bouncing up and
down.
"Why?" Buffy asked plaintively, injecting as much 'whine'
as she
could into her voice. "Don't wanna wake up. Wanna
sleep."
"You can't
sleep anymore. You gotta fix breakfast."
"Why?"
"Because you're
the mommy. I can't do it."
The little girl yanked on the pillow, then
scooted up
and pried one of Buffy's eyes open.
"Have some cereal,"
Buffy said. "You can do cereal."
"But it's Sunday."
"So
what?"
"Pancakes, Mommy. Pancakes, pancakes,
pancakes," the child
sing-songed.
Before she could start bouncing up and down on
her again,
Buffy shifted her daughter to one side,
tumbling her down on the mattress,
then went in for
the kill with all fingers wiggling.
Melanie shrieked
with laughter as her mother found
all her ticklish places and gave them a
good work
out before
breakfast.
**************************************************
"Mommy?"
"What,
baby?" Buffy turned the page in her newspaper,
studying an advertisement for
a sale on children's under-
wear at Sears.
"Are we still going to
Disneyland?" Melanie asked, her
voice slightly garbled from the bite of
pancake she was
still working on.
"Don't talk with food in your mouth,
Melanie," Buffy said
automatically.
She'd tried the old "don't talk
with your mouth full" routine
on Melanie once, a request the child had
immediately disputed
by showing her mother that her mouth was only half full.
Un-
fortunately, Buffy found it difficult to scold the little girl
when
she was having trouble controlling her laughter.
Melanie made a
show of swallowing, then repeated her
question.
'Yes, honey. We're
still going. He promised, didn't he?"
"Uh-huh." Melanie stabbed another
bite of pancake and
dunked it in the pool of syrup on her plate. "I believe
him."
"So do I." Reaching for the scissors, Buffy began
clipping
coupons from one of the booklets they stuffed in Sunday's
papers.
She was carefully cutting along the dotted line of a
75 cents off coupon for
laundry detergent when the phone
rang.
Melanie jumped out of her chair
and reached for the
receiver with sticky hands.
"Hello?....Oh, hi,
Gemma." She looked over at Buffy. "It's
Gemma."
Buffy forced herself
not to roll her eyes. Angel's mother so
completely disliked being called by
any variation of the name
'Grandmother' , that she'd insisted on Melanie
using her first
name instead.
After a brief conversation with her
grandmother, Melanie
handed the phone to Buffy.
"Hi, Gemma, how are
you?....Really?....Congratulations...I
guess that's good, right? I don't know
much about golf...Uh-
huh....Wow....Um, no." She turned around to face the
all
and lowered her voice. "Not for over a week...He had to cancel
his
weekend with Melanie....Not much of one....Just the
usual....Well, have you
tried his fax line?....What about that
girl he's
seeing?....Already?....Yes....I'll let you know....Me?
Well, yes....actually,
I am.....Not long....No, no, he doesn't."
She'd had just about enough of
this phone call. The last
thing she wanted to be doing at the moment was
answering
Gemma's nosy questions about her private life.
"Gemma, I
have to go....Yes, I'll tell him....You, too....Okay.
Bye."
Buffy
replaced the receiver, then went into the kitchen to
wet a paper towel and
clean off the sticky fingerprints Melanie
had left on it.
She stood at
the sink, watching the neighbor's cat walk along
the fence that divided the
property.
The fact that Angel hadn't called his mother lately
bothered
her just a little. For all of his faults as a husband and
father,
he'd been pretty good about staying close to his mother,
es-
pecially after his own father had died so suddenly of a
massive
stroke.
Gemma was the helpless, clinging type of wife who had
depended on her husband for everything. Liam Conner had
married her
young, and had continued to treat her like a child,
no matter how old she
got. He'd doted on and spoiled her to
insane lengths, providing her with a
brand new car every year,
enough designer clothes for ten women, jewelry,
furs, a check-
book with an unending supply of cash, and a credit card
for
every upscale store on the west coast.
When he'd died, Gemma had
transfered her dependency from
her husband to her son. Her daughter was
practically ignored,
and they'd drifted apart years ago.
But now,
Gemma hadn't heard from Angel in over a week.
Where the heck had he
disappeared to?
"Mommy?"
Startled out of her thoughts, Buffy
looked down and saw
Melanie standing next to her, holding her breakfast
plate.
"You want another pancake, baby?" she asked, reaching
for the
bowl of batter.
"No, I'm full."
Buffy exchanged the plate for the
damp rag she had in her
hand, asking Melanie to please go and wipe the syrup
off
the
phone.
**************************************************
After
the breakfast dishes were done, she threw on a
pair of jeans and a sweater,
then went down the hall to
Melanie's room.
She found the child
sitting in the middle of the floor,
dressing her dolls in their 'party
clothes', and singing
quietly to herself.
"A peanut sat on a
railroad track
His heart was all a flutter
Round the bend came number
10
And toot-toot, peanut butter.."
"Want to go to the store with
me, baby?"
Melanie looked up and smiled. "Okay."
Buffy opened the
closet door and pulled out a blue
sun dress, as Melanie wriggled out of her
pajamas.
After running a brush through her daughter's hair,
she
waited patiently while Melanie tackled her
shoe laces. It took three times
as long to get her
ready to go, but she was so pleased with herself
that
Buffy was willing to wait.
They stopped at the mall for a few
minutes, just enough
time for Buffy to check in with Willow and go over the
work schedule for the following week.
In the market, Melanie trailed
behind Buffy, pushing a
child size shopping cart. She filled the basket with
small
items Buffy handed her, and pulled a huge handful of
coupons from
the automatic dispensers for things Buffy
had no earthly use
for.
After loading all her groceries on the conveyor belt, she
grabbed
a copy of TV guide and flipped through it while she
waited to be checked
out.
Her fingers turned the pages quickly to the Wednesday
night
listing and she found herself face to face with an
advertisement for that
weeks episode of 'Outpost: Space';
an advertisement that had a very
attractive picture of the
show's lead.
She couldn't help the little
shiver of possessiveness that
chased up and down her spine, caused by the
knowledge
that this man, one that thousands of women ached for in
very
private places, was her lover. The memory of what he'd
done last night in her
bed was enough to make her cheeks
turn scarlet.
Melanie tugged on the
hem of her sweater. "Can I see,
Mommy?"
Buffy handed over the TV
guide, then began digging around
in her purse for her
checkbook.
**************************************************
She
had just put Melanie to bed, when the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi,
beautiful. How are my two favorite girls?"
Smiling, she stretched out on
the sofa. "We're fine. We had
a not-very-productive day. How are
you?"
She heard him release a heavy sigh. "Tired. I spent the
day with
the writers and producers, after not getting much
sleep last
night."
"Oh, what a shame."
He chuckled. "I was kept up most of
the night by a very
beautiful and sexy lady."
"You were?"
"Oh,
yeah. And demanding, too."
"Demanding? Really?"
"Mm-hmm.
Insatiable. She couldn't keep her hands off
me."
"William!"
"What?"
"I seem to remember your hands
not staying where they
belonged."
"Not true. My hands belonged all
over you...and that's
where they were."
Deciding to change the
subject, Buffy said, "We found a
picture of you in this weeks TV guide. It's
now residing in
Melanie's wall gallery."
They talked for a few more
minutes, then he told her that
he'd made arrangements for their Disneyland
trip, but wanted
to check her schedule first before he finalized
them.
"I would think your schedule would be harder to work around
than
mine."
"Not really. We're filming the season finale this week,
after
that I'm free for about...oh, a month and a half or so."
"That's
nice."
"Yes...and I'm planning to spend a lot of that free time
with
you, baby. And a certain little girl. If you'll have me, that
is."
If she would have him? If?
"I'll definitely have you...I mean
WE will. Both of us. Stop
laughing at me....you know what I mean."
"I
know what you mean. Listen, I'll try and call
tomorrow,
okay?"
"Okay."
"Goodnight, darlin' Sweet
dreams."
Tonight that was going to be a sure
thing.
TBC....