"Tell him we want the honeymoon suite, pet," he grinned as he leaned back against Elizabeth's car and lit up a cigarette. He laughed at the finger she flipped at him. "Get us a room and we'll see about that."

Early evening on the Saturday night of the long Columbus Day weekend. The university library was closed on Monday, giving three days for hedonism. They couldn't go to Elizabeth's house, and wherever Spike was staying was not considered. The Ski-In Motel on the south side of town offered in-room movies and a liquor store around the corner.

The clerk behind the counter leered as Elizabeth asked for a room till Monday evening. "I work nights if you get bored, honey."

She glared at him. "I doubt that will be a problem."

"75 bucks for three days. Got a credit card?"

She pulled out her wallet and tossed four twenties on the counter. Then she stared at him. The clerk thought a moment and scooped up the cash. "Ain't got change."

"Oh, well. Key?"

"Number one right next door is open."

"Something a little further out, if you please."

"Number 16, upstairs." He reached for a key and tossed it to her. "I'll stop by later, make sure everything's OK."

"No, really, don't bother."

"No trouble at all, honey. Call me if you need anything at all."

She sneered and left.

Spike tossed away his cigarette butt. "That took a bit."

"Slimy in there wanted to make sure I wouldn't be bored, said he'd stop by to make sure everything's OK."

"Let me answer the door, then. What room?"

"16, upstairs."

He looked around the parking lot and the rooms. "Northern exposure, good." He pulled a bag out of the back of the car and locked the doors.

"What's in the bag?" Elizabeth asked carefully.

He grinned. "You'll see."

She heard the clink of metal. "Consensual, remember?"

He pulled her close to kiss her. "I remember, pet. Let's go."

Full-sized bed, TV/VCR combination, heavy curtains, adequate bathroom with shower/tub.

"Not quite big enough for two," Elizabeth sighed, looking at the tub.

"Not laying down, anyway. Note the handheld shower massage."

"What? Oh." She looked at the shower head on the long hose in the bracket. "Hm."

"Hm," he repeated with a grin. He strolled over to her and slipped his arms under her jacket. "So, do we go lay in some supplies or just lay in?"

She fondled the lapels of the leather duster. "If we don't go now, we'll just have to go later, and I'd rather not interrupt matters later."

"Sensible." He kissed her, and she opened her mouth happily to his. In the interests of saving their energy for the weekend, they'd barely touched each other all week--except for Wednesday night, when Spike had taken exception to Elizabeth's attempt to grope and run--and tensions were running high.

"I don't know when the liquor store closes," she said softly.

"Hours yet." He pulled her shirt out of the waist of her jeans.

"They won't be open tomorrow or Monday." She traced the lines of his hipbones.

"Damn." Reluctantly he took his fingers from the warm skin under her shirt. "Good point." He smiled thoughtfully. "But if you don't get your hand out of my trousers I may forget to care."

"Oh, yes, that."

***

The liquor store clerk was no more concerned about what went on in the store than the motel clerk. He glanced at Spike and Elizabeth, saw they were probably over 21, and went back to his cell phone.

"What are you after?" Elizabeth asked.

"Bourbon, if they've got anything decent."

"Keep in mind that I paid for the room, so you're buying your own booze." He frowned and lowered his sights to the sale bottles.

Elizabeth headed for the wine, noting in passing that the selection in this part of town tended towards the Thunderbird and Mad Dog end of the spectrum. None of the pricy French wines found in the liquor stores in her neighborhood. She found what she wanted anyway and went to find Spike.

A bottle of bourbon was tucked under one arm, and he had a six pack each of Capt. Bastard and the hefeweisen.

"You can put the hefe back, if it's for me," she said. "Mixing wine and beer doesn't work for me."

"How am I supposed to get you drunk enough to be foolish if you're going to stick to wine? Really cheap red wine at that."

"I like this stuff, it reminds me of college. Anyway, my liquor tolerance has gone way down."

"Oh, good. OK, then, I'll trade your beer for the Guinness Dark over there." He paused, then leaned down to kiss her, doing a thorough job of it. She cooperated fully. "Hm," he finally said.

"What, hm?"

"Would you go best with a red wine or a white wine? Can't really do a proper taste test here, though." He kissed her again. "White, I think."

"I've always though the blush wines nicely accentuated the taste of a man."

He grinned. "Have to test that out, we will. You done?"

"Yep." It occurred to her that a vampire might have other taste testing in mind than what had initially crossed her mind. But surely he'd go for a red wine, in that case. Best not to think too hard about that.

Spike fell victim to the lure of a bottle of jalapeno beer, and Elizabeth decided the occasion warranted a bottle of butterscotch schnapps. She smiled when he went back to the wine section and returned with a small bottle of white.

The clerk was paying more attention to a bunch of obviously underage kids snickering in the whiskey section than to question IDs for grown-ups. He didn't even notice Spike palming a mini bottle of Chivas Regal when Elizabeth looked at cutesy little collectors bottle of liqueurs.

"All right, do we need anything in the way of munchies or are we done for now?" he asked as he carried the bag of booze out of the store. He frowned as she considered. "Keep in mind that there are better ways to spend the next several hours than shopping."

"No, really?" She grinned at the displeased look. "Yes, we're done. Let's sneak back and hope Slimy the Clerk doesn't see us."

Spike closed and locked the door, made sure the curtains were closed, and set the liquor bottles out neatly on the night stand. Elizabeth hung her jacket up on the coatrack, humming a little something from Carmen and vowing not to make the first move. The leather duster was hung on a hook as an arm came around her waist.

"Now, where were we?" Spike asked, pulling her close for a kiss. "Oh, yes, I had my hands on you and you had your hands on me."

"Something like that." She tugged his shirt free and ran a hand along his abdomen, smiling smugly.

He pulled off the shirt and studied the grin. "That's a remarkably bitchy smile. What brought that on?"

"It'll only make you even more egotistical."

"Not sure that's possible, pet. What?"

"Oh, I was just thinking of Nicole and Tango and how much they hate me." She ran both hands up his chest. "I have my catty moments."

"I'll make the obvious jokes later." He reached for her shirt buttons, then paused. "Take your clothes off for me," he said softly.

She wondered if she was blushing, after all this time. "I hardly have the figure for a stripper."

"Trust me, pet, a woman starts taking off her clothes, a man will pay attention." He sat down on the bed, pulled off his boots, then laid back with his arms behind his head, watching her expectantly.

"All right, then." She started with the scrunchy holding her hair, pulling it out slowly and taking her time about running her fingers through her long hair, making sure she got every tangle. She tossed the scrunchy onto the dresser, humming La Habanera, Carmen's sultry aria about love being free. A quick glance at Spike showed his interest was definitely, well, piqued.

She began singing softly as she started on the buttons of her blue silk shirt. "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle/que nul ne peut apprivoiser ..." She dropped the shirt off her shoulders.

"Very nice," he said softly. "Black lace suits you."

"You may be right." She ran a finger along the top edge of the lace and satin bra. When she reached for the front hooks, though, he protested.

"Leave that be. I want to take it off you."

"Dictatorial, aren't you." But she left it on.

"Does the rest of it match?"

She only smiled at him and put a foot up on the night stand to unlace one shoe, then the other. After they were disposed of, she unbuttoned the top of her jeans. She tugged the zipper down slowly and saw Spike's eyes following her fingers. He smiled smugly when he saw the rest of the lingerie matched. The jeans slid to the floor, and she lazily kicked them away.

She strolled to the bed, put one knee on the edge, a hand on his chest, and leaned in to kiss him. One hand he slid into her hair, and the other fingers across the satin covering her rump. She pulled away first, but he let her hair run through his fingers as she moved. Her hand moved down to the button fly of his jeans, and he found enough breath to catch. Especially when she leaned down to run the tip of her heated tongue around his nipples. She continued down, tracing his abs with her tongue while very slowly unfastening buttons.

She'd only undone two buttons when her lips reached the belt line. He reached for the rest of the buttons, but she slapped his fingers.

"Mustn't be impatient," she scolded with a smile.

"Bloody tease," he growled.

"You think so now."

She undid another button and nibbled lightly on the revealed skin. His groan held enough discomfort that she took pity and unfastened the rest of his fly. The sigh of relief turned to pleasure as she wrapped her hand around him and laid a kiss on the tip. He reached down and fondled her breast through the satin, then shoved his jeans down off his hips. She caressed his balls briefly before she straightened to help get rid of his pants.

He stretched and scratched his hip contentedly. She curled up between his legs, leaning on his hip.

"So," she said, trailing a finger from his hipbone, along the top of his thigh, to his groin, "we were discussing what wine goes best with whom." She cradled his balls, squeezing gently.

"God," he muttered. His fingers trembled faintly as he traced the curve of her breast, savoring the warmth of her flesh through the smooth cloth. He ran a thumb around her nipple. "Be happy to make it a mutual test."

"I work best when I can concentrate." She shivered as his thumb rubbed back and forth.

"You sure?" he smiled.

"No, but you are." She slid down, got comfortable, and began nibbling. "Of all the autonomic impulses, I suppose this is the one you'd most want to keep," she mused as she ran a very slow finger down the underside of Spike's cock. "All the lovely helpless twitches." She fondled his balls briefly, then traced lines on the soft skin just above his hipbones.

"Aren't there better things your tongue could be doing?" he muttered.

She raised her head to look at him, and her slow, evil smile might have worried him in other circumstances. "Oh, I suppose so."

Very gently she traced a circle around his tip, then slowly down. She nibbled around to the top side, then dug the tip of her tongue against the spot where the base met his groin. Spike's groan told her that erogenous zones, at least, transcended death. She paused to smile smugly at the look on his face, then slid down.

He briefly thought of being concerned about teeth as her lips explored his balls, but he was quickly distracted by how warm her mouth was when she carefully pulled one testicle in. He couldn't help shivering as her tongue caressed him, and she chuckled, sending vibrations through his nerves. Gently she let him go, then she finally wrapped her lips around his cock and sucked him in. He couldn't help pushing against her. She fondled his balls as she sucked on him and felt the first quivers that said he was about to come. She glanced up at his face from the corner of her eye and saw him watching avidly. She chuckled again, and that pushed him over the edge.

He slid one hand into her hair but managed not to clamp down on her head as he came. He watched her mouth work as she swallowed, thought of other women he'd seen drinking from men with that same pleased smile, and closed his eyes as more spasms took him.

She finally straightened, smirking proudly, and stretched up to the night stand to grab the bottle of white wine. Cheap wine in screw-top bottles, it seemed appropriate. Spike cracked an eyelid to watch her twist off the lid, take a swig of wine, and thoughtfully consider the flavor.

"Well?" he asked.

"Yes, you go very nicely with a white wine. But to be fair I should try later with the red. Just to be sure." She smiled smugly at him, then reached a finger down to just behind his testicles. He gasped and shivered again.

"Jesus," he gasped when he got his breath back. "I gotta ask, are there classes in that?"

She took another swig of wine while she decided whether or not to blush. "Well, nothing formal, but one night my senior year in college, a bunch of us got together in a dorm room, got drunk, and discussed techniques."

"I have got to hang around more colleges. Who was the lucky bloke who got to be the demonstration dummy?"

"Sorry, theory only."

"Damn. 'Cause you know, I'd volunteer."

She had a brief image of Spike and a room full of college girls learning how to give a proper blow job, and decided she needed more to drink. "I'm sure that would be--very generous of you."

"Oh, no trouble, no trouble at all." He stretched very contentedly and smiled at her. "Put the cap back on your cheap hooch there, we don't want to spill it."

She was puzzled a moment, then rapidly screwed the cap back on the bottle. "No, we don't."

He sat up leisurely and leaned over to kiss her. "I believe the phrase is 'My turn.'"

He slid a finger under the satin strap of her bra, enjoying the feel of the cloth and her skin. He couldn't decide if the bra should be off or on. The black against her pale skin, with the lace following the curve of her breasts, was a feast for the eyes, but he wanted to feel her nipples get hard under his tongue. Such difficult decisions. He brushed her hair back and kissed the side of her neck as he mulled over the problem, fondling a satin-covered breast.

Her jugular vein was a warm, fast river under her skin, vibrating against his lips. His tongue found the mark of an old bite, still sensitive from the way her breath caught as he nibbled lightly on the spot. But this wasn't that kind of taste test. Besides, he already knew what went best with blood. The taste of her skin decided him, and he slid his hand over to the clasp at the front of the bra, taking a moment to warm his fingers in the curve of her cleavage.

She shivered briefly at his cold touch, but she gasped faintly when he ran a slow fingertip around a nipple, teasing it till it was almost painfully hard. He smiled briefly into her eyes as he flicked the bra straps off her shoulders. She tossed it away somewhere, and he leaned in to kiss her mouth, pushing her back onto the bed, hands braced to either side of her. She ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders, tracing each muscle greedily. He chuckled against her lips, then started working his way down, nibbling lightly on the hollow at the base of her throat, then tracing the tip of his tongue down to circle her left nipple. Her hands stayed on his shoulders as he moved, and somehow she managed to keep her fingernails out of his skin.

He spent several moments tormenting that nipple, then let his fingers take over that job while he paid attention to the other side, sucking on her until her whimpers of pleasure almost became protest, then soothing her with his tongue. His free hand slid down her belly, feeling the tremors in her skin. He traced the line of the panties across her hip, then brushed his fingers along the soft surface of the cloth, sliding his hand under her to feel the heat of her skin through the satin.

He glanced up and saw her teeth in her lower lip. "No biting," he whispered, kissing her. "That's my job." Straightening briefly, he reached over to the night stand and grabbed the bourbon and white wine bottles with one hand and put them on the floor next to the bed within easy reach. A man worked better with his tools handy.

Slowly he ran both hands down her flanks, hooked his fingers under the panties and drew them down till she could pull her feet free. He tossed the lingerie to one side, but he made a mental note of where it landed before turning back to other matters.

She reached up to flick back a stray bit of hair that had fallen over his forehead as he settled down comfortably. Idly she wondered what he looked like without bleached hair.

"What are you thinking about when I'm supposed to be distracting you?" he asked. He traced a line from her navel to the pubic bone.

"Oh, not much." Her breath caught as he continued his line of exploration down. "What was the Swiss gross national product last year, how much does a pound of yak fur cost, when--oh, lord." His cold finger slid between the warm folds of flesh and took up residence.

Warm and soft and wet, luring his finger farther in. She jumped a little at the cold touch, but she moved her legs apart helpfully.

"Patience, love," he said softly, kissing the inside of her thigh. He slid his finger back and forth slowly, just to watch her twitch, then pulled it out and licked it clean. He was glad she never wore perfume because he loved the smell of the rest of her. He could always tell when she was thinking about sex, just by the scent. Once at the station he'd pulled her into the supply closet for a quickie on the strength of how she smelled. They both had bruises after that one.

He tucked her left leg over his shoulder and traced a lazy pattern on the ticklish area near her hip bone. She shivered but didn't object. He nibbled lightly on the inside of her thigh, enjoying the feel of skin under blunt teeth. Then he leaned in to run his tongue slowly between the warm, wet folds. She whimpered and arched her back, pushing against his mouth. He smiled at her eagerness and obliged her by teasing her clitoris with the tip of his tongue. Another wave of shivers went through her.

Pausing a moment, he reached over the edge of the bed for the wine bottle, unscrewed the cap and took a swig. "Not bad," he said as Elizabeth blinked vaguely at him. "Not much for wine, though. Needs some more testing." He put the bottle down.

"Damn," she said.

He laughed and settled back down to work.

Hot, wet, luscious. Odd how women appreciated that a vampire didn't need to breathe. He slid two fingers inside and applied the tip of his tongue to the hard point above. A few strokes in and out, then he sent one wet fingertip exploring to the opening further back. She gasped in surprise at the touch. He distracted her with his lips and slowly slid inside the tight opening.

She whimpered again, moving helplessly. Too many sources of input to keep straight, and all she wanted was more of Spike's touch, no matter where. Every nerve coiled tighter. His tongue slipped inside her, the fingers behind moved gently back and forth, his other thumb teased her clitoris, and something broke deep inside. The scream hurt her throat.

When she finally settled to faint gasps, Spike let her go and kissed the spot just below her belly, then reached down for the bottle of bourbon.

"That's the thing," he said after a swig. She blinked at him, not quite focused yet. "Something with a bit more kick for you, love." He took another shot, then moved up to kiss her. "You look a bit muddled, pet, feeling all right, are you?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I think so. Just--go wash your hands, please?"

He chuckled and kissed her again. "Yes, ma'am. You're blushing."

"Not. Flushed. There's a difference."

Faintly through the wall, they heard a woman's voice yelling something as what was probably the headboard of the bed next door thumped against the wall.

Elizabeth giggled. "Gee, I wonder what they're doing."

"I don't. I thought women always yelled things like 'Yes, yes!' at moments like that."

"I refuse to believe that you've ever seen 'When Harry Met Sally.' Any woman whose verbal centers are still functioning at a moment like that is not having a good enough time." They heard the woman next door yelling again. "Or she's faking it."

"Not with me, she wouldn't," Spike smirked.

"Smug bastard."

He laughed, then crawled off the bed and headed for the bathroom, taking the bourbon with him. "Catch your breath, love, be back in a jiff."

She paused a moment for delighted dismay and hoped he couldn't hear her giggle. She put her arms above her head and stretched every muscle in her body, letting the shiver run down to her curled toes. She laughed at herself in pleased amazement at what her body was capable of feeling. And of doing. It wasn't the kind of thing you put on a resume, but she took no little pride in being able to make a man like Spike weak with pleasure.

Still chuckling, she sat up and looked around for the open wine bottle, but she didn't see where Spike had left it. Shrugging, she reached for the butterscotch schnapps instead, opened it and drank, enjoying the sweet fire that settled in her belly.

Spike came out of the bathroom and paused to enjoy the view. "Beautiful naked woman in my bed with a bottle of booze," he grinned. "Christmas came early."

She made no pretense about watching him stroll across the room towards the bed. She had no illusions about this affair being anything more than mutually enjoyable exercise. Spike could have found any number of women to play with, women who more closely matched the generally accepted standards of beauty, the kind of women who maneuvered for his attention. But who was he shacked up with in a motel for a long weekend? Elizabeth Winthrop, once heard described in passing at the radio station as "that frump who obviously has no life." But considering the source was Tango ... She took another hit off the schnapps bottle, very satisfied with her life.

"Do I want to know what you're thinking about?" Spike asked, climbing back into bed.

"Probably not."

He took a swig from his bourbon bottle, watching her. "Is it about me?"

"What, you assume that just because I'm laying here looking very pleased with myself that I must be thinking about you?"

"Yes."

"Well, you're right."

He grinned and leaned over to kiss her. But the bourbon he'd been drinking was not a good mix with the sweet schnapps on her tongue. "What are you drinking?"

"Butterscotch schnapps, very tasty." She offered him her bottle.

He sniffed it and winced. "Smells like treacle. That's a girly drink all right."

"I wasn't planning on sharing." She retrieved her bottle with dignity and took another swig. "Works best with ice cream. And where'd you put my wine bottle?"

He studied her a moment, smiling slightly, then reached over the side of the bed. "Right here, pet. Though you're welcome to some of this." He offered her the bourbon.

"Please, whiskey tastes like Listerine." She paused, then took the bottle and a cautious sip. Shuddering, she handed it back. "Gah, is it supposed to burn like that going down?"

"Yes, it is. Second shot's better." Helpfully he held out the bottle. After a moment, she put down the wine bottle he'd handed her and accepted it. The second sip wasn't quite as painful. "Sorry, not for me. More for you, then. I guess strong spirits and I just don't mix."

Casually, he took the schnapps bottle away from her and glanced at the proof number on the label. "Maybe not." He collected her wine bottle as well and put them all back on the night stand. "Let's just let them sit up there for a little bit."

"Why--oh." His mouth settled on hers, the bourbon taste not nearly as objectionable on his lips. His hands, still warm from the hot water in the bathroom, slid across her skin, and one arm went under her to pull her down flat on the bed. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sliding one hand into his hair and the other down his back. His erection moved against her hip, and she reached around to fondle him.

He smiled against her lips. "Your fingers are warm."

"There's someplace warmer."

"Yes, there is."

He kissed her deeply as he slid his hips between her legs, and she ran her hands down to his ass to feel the muscles moving. She shifted her hips to help and gave a long sigh of satisfaction as he slipped in. She tightened every muscle inside she could around him.

"God, yes," he muttered. "Hold on to me, beautiful."

He kept his thrusts short, not wanting to give up the exquisite heat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Harder," she gasped. As glorious as his lips and hands had felt, she wanted to feel all of him buried in her.

"Harder?"

"Harder."

"As my lady wishes." He kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and finding her responding eagerly. Pulling his cock out of her nearly all the way, he shoved back in with as much force as he thought a breakable mortal could take. She only moaned against his mouth and wrapped her legs around him. He felt her spasm around him and chuckled, then slowed down, drawing out each stroke and keeping her just on the edge. She whimpered impatiently against his mouth, rocking to meet his in-thrusts and tightening the muscles inside to try and keep him inside. He freed her mouth and ran his lips down her neck, along the line of old bites, then up to her ear. When he ran the tip of his tongue along the outer edge of her ear, she groaned, and he thrust into her hard until she screamed and clamped down on his cock so tight he gasped and came too.

Several moments passed.

"Oh, lord," Elizabeth whispered very faintly, her eyes closed.

"Speaking," he answered in a voice that shook a little.

She laughed and shook her head. "Not. Quite." She moaned in disappointment as he pulled out of her. "But you're getting close."

Breathing heavily, he grinned down at her. "I'll convert you yet. I think you'll find services to be very enjoyable." He leaned down to suck on a nipple, and she gasped helplessly. "You've already got the prayers down."

She managed to open her eyes and raise a wobbly hand to his face. "Somewhere there's a deity with a lightning bolt that has your name on it."

"More than likely."

He leaned down and kissed her slowly. Then there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, lady, everything OK?" came a slurred voice from outside.

Spike glared at the door in disbelief. "What the bloody hell?"

"Oh, god, it's the clerk. He said he was going to come up, but I didn't really think--"

The doorknob rattled. "You in there, honey?"

Spike pushed himself off the bed and stalked towards the door.

"Put something on--" Elizabeth protested, but he waved her off. He flicked off the lock and yanked the door open.

"What!" he snapped at the man standing outside.

The motel clerk had a bottle of beer to his mouth, but he jumped and spilled it down his front. His eyes tracked down and up, confirming that the angry man in front of him really was naked, then he desperately focused on the face.

Spike curled a lip at him. "Was there something?"

"Uh, uh ..." The eyes inadvertently flickered down, then up again.

"Or do I just break your neck now and be done with it?"

"Uh." Whatever else he was, it wasn't brave, and he scuttled back down the stairs and to the motel office.

"Pillock." Spike slammed the door.

"I can't believe you did that," Elizabeth said, torn between mortification and laughter. "Serve you right, though, if he decides to fixate on you instead of me."

Spike put his arms up above his head and stretched contentedly. "Who could blame him, really?" He saw Elizabeth's gaze going slowly up and down his naked body and chuckled.

"Smug bastard," she said.

He strolled towards the bed, and she rolled out the other side. She laughed at his pout. "Silly mortal biological needs. Be right back."

"You're all the same, shag three or four or five times, have to take a break."

As she went to the bathroom, he went over to his coat. Two bottles of the expensive bourbon came out of the pockets. He cracked one and took a long pull. The night stand was getting crowded with bottles.

Elizabeth came out and paused to appreciate the view. Would he mind, she wondered, if she just went over and started chewing on those shoulder muscles? Or maybe she could just spend several minutes tracing all the lines of the muscles of his back with her tongue.

He saw her looking at him out of the corner of his eye and flexed his arms idly, just for her edification.

Knowing she was being teased, she went over to the dresser, where the list of available cable channels lay. Playboy Channel, HBO, Cinemax, all the ESPN channels. Who came to a sleazy motel to watch ESPN?

She glanced up at the dusty mirror and saw something scratched in the corner. Probably just some obscenity from a bored vandal, but she leaned closer to look. A phone number?

Cold hands settled on her hips and she gasped. "Think you can wave your ass around at me like that and I'm just going to ignore it?" Spike asked. He pulled her against him and rubbed his hardening dick against her.

Elizabeth stared at the mirror and the empty air it showed behind her. She straightened and Spike put his arms around her, one hand fondling a breast.

"Oh, that's weird," she breathed. She glanced down, saw his arm and hand. Her peripheral vision saw his body behind her, and her skin felt all of him, but the mirror told her eyes she was alone. Her breast moved under his invisible hand, the nipple hardening at the touch of his thumb.

He studied her solitary form in the mirror, still slightly disturbed at his lack of reflection after all these years. But her body was a blind man's dream, filling his hands and eager for his touch.

"Go ahead and watch yourself," he whispered in her ear. His free hand slid slowly down to her crotch and then between the folds.

She gasped at his touch; the woman in the mirror leaned her head back against nothing. It felt oddly wicked to be a voyeur upon oneself. She kept being distracted by how she looked instead of enjoying how it felt. The woman in the mirror bit her lip and moved her hips forward to allow better access. Elizabeth ran her hand along Spike's arm, feeling the muscles move. In the mirror, she caressed air.

"Maybe this is where stories of incubuses comes from," he said softly. "A lady looks in a mirror and sees she's alone and doesn't look at the real body touching her." He traced circles around her clitoris, watching her face as she whimpered faintly, then he brushed her hair back and ran the tip of his tongue along the curls of her ear. "Doesn't have to admit to herself that the pleasure she's feeling comes from anything real."

Two fingers slid inside her. She watched through half-closed eyes as she gasped and rocked her hips against his hand. His thumb went to her clitoris and she caught her breath as her body quivered with release.

In a few moments she was able to focus on the woman in the mirror. She leaned limply back against something, breathing heavily, shivering every now and then. A very faint smile flickered across her mouth. The invisible hands trailed up her body, fondled her breasts, then slid back down to her hips, pulling them back as a hard cock began searching for the way in. She leaned forward eagerly on the dresser.

Spike teased himself and her by rubbing the tip of his cock across her opening. She moved back, trying to pull him in. He finally let her win, pushing in against her until his pelvis settled in against her and there wasn't any further he could go. He watched her face in the mirror, seeing the smile that flickered across her lips as she rubbed against him.

"Open your eyes," he told her.

Elizabeth didn't think she knew the woman who looked back at her, lips parted and smiling at how good this felt, eyes gone dark with passion.

"Yes, that's how you really look," Spike said, pulling out of her very slowly and barely moving the tip back and forth at her entrance. "Like the favorite fantasy of a hundred lonely men." He tightened his hold on her hips, not letting her move. She bit her lip in longing, whimpering slightly, but with her eyes still half open so she could watch herself.

He yanked her hips back against his as he thrust into her, making her cry out. He still didn't let her move, concentrating on the moans he pulled out of her and the lust on her face. Her voice started going up the scale, and he reached down to lightly play with her clitoris. She screamed and clamped down on him. He thrust hard twice more before shoving in and holding her tight into him as his own climax let go. His control over his human face slipped, and the demon growled in satisfaction.

He leaned forward onto the dresser, still holding her close. Her pulse pounded on his ears, making his fangs twitch. But Elizabeth watching herself get fucked silly was one thing, watching herself get bitten was something else. Instead he forced the demon back and pulled Elizabeth up into his arms. Light- headed she leaned against him, panting, a smile teasing her lips. Spike stared at her in the mirror, leaning so trustingly against nothing. Her eyes flickered open, and her smile deepened. He couldn't help chuckling at how smug she looked.

"Like what you see?" he asked.

"I'd rather see you." She turned in his arms and looked up at his face with no little relief. Delicately she traced his cheekbones with her fingers. "It was almost as if you weren't there."

"Making a lot of noise, you were, for being alone. Did you enjoy watching yourself as much as I did?"

She looked away, half embarrassed. "I'm not used to seeing myself looking so ... so ..."

"Gorgeous?"

"Um ..."

"Oh, pet, you read too many fashion magazines. Not a man in the world--well, straight man--who wouldn't step over any supermodel to get to you with that look in your eye."

"That's just sex."

"Sweetpea, to a man that's all any of it is."

"But we had such high hopes for you all."

He kissed her instead of thinking of a comeback. Chuckling in that knowing way that made him want to make her scream in pleasure till she lost her voice, she put her arms around his neck and applied herself to the job of kissing him back. Then her stomach gurgled, and he leaned back to look at her.

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "but I'm hungry."

"That means putting clothes on."

"Not if I order a pizza."

"Gonna give the pizza boy a thrill, eh? Save on a tip by flashing some skin?"

"Very amusing. You want anything?"

He very nearly said he'd be fine with the pizza boy, then remembered himself in time. "Anybody in this town deliver wings?"

"I'll ask."

While Elizabeth worked the phone, Spike crawled back on the bed to get to the TV remote chained to the headboard. The management certainly understood where most of the activity in these rooms went on. Elizabeth rolled her eyes but looked at the TV to check out the choices.

"Too much talking," Spike muttered, shuttling through the channels, "not enough fucking."

"No, wait, go back, go back!" He obliged, baffled. "There, right there!"

"Wha--it's just a bloody cartoon, luv."

"Leave it here! It's South Park the Movie!"

"What?"

"Trust me, trust me. Oh, great, it's just starting." Elizabeth grinned at him. "You're going to love Terrance and Philip."

"Who?"

He soon found out. His jaw dropped as the two Canadians began singing about fun with uncles. Elizabeth ordered her pizza and the hot wings quickly so she could sing along.

"'You're a boner biting bastard, unclefucker!'"

Spike stared at her. "You know the words."

"They're not that complicated. Scoot over."

When the food arrived she threw Spike's shirt over herself to go pay for it, barely looking at the pizza boy. She forgot the tip, but the pizza boy didn't mind as the shirt wasn't nearly as long as she thought it was. She rejoined Spike on the bed and snuggled against him.

He took the wings from her. "What's with the guy with the puppet?"

"That's Mr. Hand. Never mind, just be glad I don't have to explain Mr. Hanky. Hush."

By then he was laughing as much as she. The fact that she didn't notice how often he passed her the bourbon bottle to go with her pizza had no bearing on anything. Mr. Mackey's reassurance that "You don't have to spend your life shooting up in the trash, homeless on the streets giving handjobs for cash" nearly put him on the floor laughing.

Later: "Who's Brian Boitano?"

"Figure skater. Never mind."

Later still: "Let me get this straight, I'm supposed to feel bad for Satan. Who's a screaming queen."

"Yep."

"Pass me the bourbon."

And still later: "Cut off your what and feed it to a what?"

"That's the way it goes, in war you're shat upon."

"Too right."

And later still: "Saddam Hussein isn't dead. Is he?"

"You really ought to watch the news more often. No, he's not."

"I like this guy. ‘I like to kill, I like to maim, yes, I'm insane, but it's ok, ‘cause I can change!'"

"Sometimes you worry me."

Finally Cartman's foul mouth saved the day, Satan went back to Hell with a new friend, and Kenny finally went to heaven. Spike leaned back against the headboard, wondering if it was possible to really sprain oneself laughing. Elizabeth reached across him and picked up the bourbon bottle sitting next to him. "Aw, empty."

"There's another, pet, don't worry."

From the other side of the wall came the sound of moaning and the headboard thumping against the wall. "Oh, lord, again?"

"I wouldn't make judgements, love." Spike listened to the voices. "That's a different man she's with."

Elizabeth blinked. "Oh, hell. This is a hooker motel. No wonder that sleazy motel clerk looked at me like that."

"Forget about him. Besides, she's just doing her job."

The woman in the next room started yelling out "Yes, yes!" and Elizabeth shook her head. She tipped the bourbon bottle to her lips again. "Damn, it's empty."

He gave her a considering look. "You just said that."

"I did? How odd." She leaned over the side of the bed. Things wobbled slightly, and as she waited for everything to steady, she spotted that bag Spike had brought. "By the way, what's in the bag?"

"Oh, just some toys."

"What kind of toys?"

"Stay right there and I'll show you."

It was a small black nylon gym bag, and Elizabeth once again heard a faint chink of metal as Spike put it on the bed. She scooted down to peer into it as he opened it.

"No peeking," he scolded.

"Have you been shopping at the Blue Boutique?"

"Ah, you've been there?"

"Leah and I go in there every now and then and play tourist. If you pull out a pink glow-in-the-dark dildo with flashing lights, I'm afraid all I'm going to do is giggle."

"Nothing that exotic, but if you want to go shopping with me ..."

She blushed in potential mortification and intrigue. "I'm drunk, aren't I."

"You've got all the signs, sweetpea." He grinned and ran a finger along her chin.

"You did this on purpose."

"I didn't hold your nose and pour it down your throat. But, yes, I've wanted to get you irresponsible and open to suggestion for ages."

"You're going to talk me into something embarrassing, aren't you."

He leaned forward to kiss her. "Am I likely to get laid if you wake up in the morning with a hangover and a grudge? No. But I was serious about going shopping together."

A smile began escaping her control. "And have everyone in the place know exactly what we're up to?"

"Oh, yes. But I must be losing my edge, 'cause this little old lady asked my opinion of cock rings, I said sure why not, and she only laughed. You blush pretty. Tom wasn't that adventurous, huh?"

Elizabeth took another swig of bourbon. It did taste better with repetition. "He was the traditional sort, plain but plentiful. And you always get a nasty gleam in your eyes when you mention him--which you do far more often than I do. So what's in the bag?"

He pulled out a bundle of silk scarves and laid them across her arm. She picked up a dark blue one and admired the color and texture.

"Strong as rope," he observed. "Fewer marks on the skin." He saw her lick her lips, but she didn't blush quite as much as he expected. "Nice blindfolds, too."

She began wrapping the scarf around her finger as she looked pointedly at the bag.

A bottle of almond scented massage oil emerged, followed by a small insulated container.

"So what's in there?" Elizabeth asked.

Spike unscrewed the lid, reached in and pulled out a berry. "Raspberries."

"Oh, num."

He held a berry out to her; she opened her lips and took it from his fingers with her tongue. Cold and tart and juicy. It tasted so good she almost didn't notice the long white feather that came out of the bag. Inner muscles twitched at the idea of what could be done with a feather.

Two small black velvet drawstring bags came out, then Spike grinned at her and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Hm," was all Elizabeth could think to say. "You got the key?"

He twirled the cuffs on his finger, smirking. "Probably in my coat."

"Probably?"

"What, afraid I won't let you loose?"

She fidgeted with the silk scarf in her hands. Her muscles tensed at the idea of being helpless. She wasn't sure if was intrigue or dread.

The look of discomfort was not what he was looking for. He tossed the cuffs on the increasingly crowded night stand. "Silk is nicer on the skin anyway." He ran a thumb across her lips. "Nothing you don't want me to do you, love." He leaned in to kiss her and whisper against her lips. "But I love the idea of you just a little helpless, trying to get loose while I drive you mad. And maybe giving in and letting me do what I will." His smile was not completely nice. "You said you trusted me, once."

"Bastard." She looked at the two small bags. "What are those?"

He grinned and picked up one of the bags. A string of five small black balls on a cord fell into the palm of his hand. "These are ..."

"I know what these are." She picked up the string by the loop in the end of the cord and drew the beads slowly through her fingers. Onyx or some other kind of stone by the weight. She smiled and dropped the string back in his hand.

He raised an eyebrow as he put the string back in its bag. "This is just a pretty thing," he said, picking up the last bag and handing it to her.

She pulled out a fine gold chain with loops at either end. A small crystal heart slid along the chain, tugging it down in the middle. Not a necklace, there was no clasp. Then she chuckled.

"Did you ever see 'Lion in Winter'?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"'Lion in Winter,' Katherine Hepburn, Peter O'Toole." She held the chain up to her breasts. "'I'd hang you from the nipples, but it would shock the children.'"

"Exactly. Here, let me."

He took the chain from her, then leaned down to run his tongue around her right nipple until it was hard and erect. Gently he fitted one loop over, sliding the small ring on the loop up till it was secure. Her left nipple received the same attention, then he leaned back to admire the view.

Elizabeth fondled the crystal heart, smiling faintly at the tug and watching herself in the mirror. Spike looked over his shoulder at her reflection. "All any woman needs to be well dressed," he said with a smile.

"It's beautiful," she said, admiring the curve of the chain. "Not a look I ever saw myself in."

"I thought you'd like this more than the ones that come with the clamps." He chuckled at her look of dismay. "Don't worry, the only thing that gets to leave tooth marks in you is me." He tugged the silk scarf out of her fingers and leaned in to kiss the side of her neck. "Let me have my way with you," he whispered in her ear.

Elizabeth looked at him, then at the scarf in his hands. "And what does that involve?" she breathed.

He took hold of one wrist, then the other and pulled her arms above her head as he leaned her back onto the mattress. "It involves you not doing anything but gasping in pleasure while I explore you." Stretched out above her, one hand holding her wrists down, he nibbled on an earlobe. "Oh, and this silk scarf around your wrists so you can't do anything but squirm."

She trusted him, she did, at least as far as not hurting her. But the thought of being helpless scared her. "I don't know ..."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, a trifle impatiently.

"I know that, but ..."

"What are you afraid of?" He ran the tip of his tongue along her lips.

"Of what you ask me to do--and me agreeing to."

"I'm not doing anything you don't agree to." All he needed was a crying Ellie running to her witch sister to make his life far more interesting than it needed to be.

She closed her eyes, trying to put into words what disturbed her. "And then I'm afraid of what I'll be willing to let you do to me next."

Spike smiled. "You're not afraid of me, then, you're afraid of yourself." She nodded. "Of seeing something in you that you don't like." He kissed her deeply. "I won't tell."

She stared at him, smiling wickedly at her. In the depths of her mind something stirred, the something that found the idea of sleeping with a vampire exciting, that shivered wantonly at the thought of his fangs in her throat. The something that stood in the university library and smirked at what everyone would say if they knew what she did in the depths of the night.

She relaxed--mostly. "Go ahead, then."

He grinned in anticipation. "You sure?" She nodded, already regretting it but having no intention of changing her mind.

Spike supposed they should come up with a safeword, but things weren't going to get that dire. Most likely. He was in control, really he was, and the only protesting Ellie was going to do was that her heart might burst from pleasure.

Watching her face from the corner of his eye, he wrapped the blue silk scarf loosely twice around her wrists, tying a simple knot that a thumbless idiot could get out of if they worked at it. All that really held her was her own willingness to be held--and he really hoped someday that she'd let him try the real thing. He pulled back a little to admire the effect.

Elizabeth glanced up at her hands, uncertainty not quite submerged under excitement. She remembered that silly lady in the cartoon at the beginning of Mystery on PBS, captive on top of that column with a handkerchief tied around her ankles and her hands free and wailing. Spike could do anything he wanted to her. Hell, he could have done anything he wanted to her before now, but ... but now she was letting him, surrendering to him. Her stomach knotted, but not with dismay. She looked at him, wondering what he was going to do next.

His eyes ran from her bound wrists and nervously clenching hands, down to the teeth gnawing on her lip as she slowly got excited by this, to her breasts and the chain lying between them. All his.

He lightly kissed a nipple, hoping the loops weren't too tight. She twitched, and he ran the tip of his tongue around the nipple. Reaching for the pile of stuff from the bag, he grabbed the container of raspberries and pulled one out. Slowly he crushed it over the other nipple, letting the juice drip down. Then he very carefully licked her clean, especially getting the drops that ran into the dip between her breasts.

Her shoulders tensed with the effort of not pulling her arms down. She wanted to touch him terribly, run her fingers through his hair as he nibbled on her.

"Leave your hands there," he said softly, reaching up to push her wrists back down, "or I really will tie you to the bed." He waited till her hands finally relaxed again, then reached for another raspberry. He squeezed that one over her lips, then kissed her.

She savored the taste of berry juice and the feel of his tongue exploring hers. Once again her hands wanted to be in his hair, wanted to run along his shoulders and down his back. Her wrists felt physically pinned to the mattress by his command not to move them. Part of her wanted to rebel against this uncharacteristic submissiveness, part of her wanted to at all costs avoid being actually helpless, and part of her just waited eagerly for what would happen next.

He pulled back far enough to smile possessively at her, then leaned down to nibble lightly on her throat. Her pulse was racing, and he hesitated before moving on. Another berry was dropped into her navel, making her jump.

"Oh, you're not ticklish there," he scolded. "You're ticklish over here." He ran his fingers down her ribs to her hipbone.

"Damn you," she growled.

Chuckling, Spike laid a gentle kiss on her ticklish ribs before returning to the berry. When he scooped it out with his tongue, he made thoroughly sure to get every bit. Elizabeth squirmed helplessly. She couldn't move her hands, but she was very tempted to use her knees on him.

Not wanted to get a knee in the head or any other useful bits, Spike stopped tormenting her--for now. Careful to avoid the most ticklish spots, he kissed his way down from her navel, across her hip, and over the top of her thigh to the inside. Choosing a final berry, he crushed it and let the juice drip onto her clit and lower. Sighing contentedly, he settled in to enjoy the taste of raspberry-flavored woman.

The first long stroke of his tongue from her opening to her clit made her whimper and dig her fingers into the mattress. He carefully explored all the folds, finding little drops of berry juice in the most interesting places. A few drops lingered just in the opening, and he took his time about licking them off. She pushed against his mouth anxiously; more than willingly he probed inside with his tongue, making sure he hadn't missed anything. She came hard, and the taste was sharp and sweet.

With one hand he gently teased her clit, keeping her close to the edge. The other hand reached down for the other drawstring bag. He slipped a finger inside her, smiling at how wet she was and at the Cheshire Cat smile that flickered across her face as he fondled her and made her gasp. Then he moved the finger back to explore her ass.

She blinked in surprise as he slowly slid one finger up inside, but he was gentle, and it felt good. His other hand still played with her clit, not quite building to the point of coming. She pouted a little when he pulled his finger out, then something hard and cold pressed into her.

"Five little balls on a cord," he whispered against her inner thigh, letting his blunt teeth feel the texture of the skin. As carefully as he could, he slid the second ball in. She gasped, but he heard no protest, only surprise. "Feel the way they move with you."

Like his finger, but not. She tried not to tense as the last three entered and Spike gently tugged on the cord, but she couldn't help clenching her ass at the feel. Then he slid a finger inside her vagina and stroked the back wall, running a fingertip across each ball through the skin. Nerves she didn't even know she had unhitched, and she yelled louder than the woman in the next room.

Spike crawled up along her body, trailing his lips across her belly and nipples as he went. When her eyes refocused, he smiled down at her. "Are we having fun yet?"

She pulled against the purely mental bonds. "Want to touch you."

"Not just yet." He reached up to trace patterns in the palms of her frustrated hands. She tried to clench her fists around his fingers, aching for touch, but he too easily pulled free. Her growl was starting to contain more and more frustration as opposed to just surrender. Hungrily he kissed her, and her teeth drew blood this time. By now he was almost painfully hard. The head of his cock found her opening eagerly, but instead of the ravishment his gut wanted, he slid into her slowly, letting her adjust to the feel of him against the balls in her ass. She almost couldn't breathe for the sensations in both passages at once.

"Put your arms around my neck," he growled into her ear, finally wanting to feel her hands on him. Gasping gratefully, she obeyed, needing to have something to hold on to.

He tried to move slowly, but he could feel the balls working against his cock as she tightened around him. Wrapping his arms around her, he sat up, pulling her up with him and holding her tight against his groin. He reached up to the scarf around her wrists, clawed the knot loose, and yanked the scarf free.

"God, yes," she whimpered, running her hands up and down his back, trying to fill the emptiness she still felt in the palms of her hands. She finally slid both hands into his hair and kissed him desperately.

Rocking his hips against hers, he reached for the loop at the end of the cord and slowly began to pull. Her head dropped back and she shivered. She clenched hard as the first ball popped free, making him growl. He pulled her head to his shoulder, unable to stop a feral grin at the feel of her teeth as she tried not to scream at the second ball. The pulse in her neck was fast and visible. This time he didn't hesitate. He tugged the last three balls out quickly, not giving her a chance to breathe between each, and as she spasmed around him he sank his fangs into her throat. Her scream held nothing of pain.

His orgasm and the taste of her blood danced in his brain. It was several seconds before he could tell himself that he'd better leave most of her blood for her, not drink down every bit of unalloyed passion ripping through her veins. He managed to stop, but couldn't lift his lips from her throat, licking up the last stray drops.

She was breathing, if faintly and unevenly, against his shoulder, and part of him relaxed. Still, it was more seconds before he could pull himself together enough to look at her. He chuckled at the faint smile on her slack face. She managed to blink a little when he kissed her.

"Wake up, love," he said, easing her back onto the bed and stretching out with her.

"No," she breathed. Her arm felt utterly limp, but she managed to caress his face.

He took her hand in his and laid a slow kiss in the palm, then down to the wrist, where a red mark showed that she'd struggled. She tried to smile but was having trouble staying focused.

"Go to sleep, sweet," he told her softly. "You must be tired." And just a trifle low on blood, darn how luscious she tasted.

"OK ..."

Spike waited till her breathing steadied into sleep. She'd be fine in the morning--evening, whenever. Sunrise was a little over an hour away. He really wanted to collapse next to Ellie in satiated oblivion, but for one problem. He was very hungry, and she had tasted very, very good. In a few minutes he'd have to go do something about that. He didn't think he'd have to go far.

Spike sat up reluctantly and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Ellie never stirred. Now there was a woman who been thoroughly fucked silly. Smirking reminiscently, he picked up the bottle of bourbon and took a swig, rolling it around in his mouth to mix with the last taste of her blood. He ought not to get too used to that taste.

Where the hell had his clothes gone? It took a good fifteen minutes to find everything--including the panties she'd worn, which he fondled for a moment before tucking them in one pocket of his duster. He found the room key and the Do Not Disturb sign and let himself out quietly, locking the door behind him. Out on the balcony he gratefully lit up a cigarette.

A man and woman came up the steps, the woman carrying a room key. The man hesitated on seeing Spike, but the woman just fitted the key into the lock of the room next door and opened the door. The man scurried inside, but the woman paused, looking speculatively at Spike, then at the door of his room. He looked back, pointedly casual, giving no sign that he'd heard her all night with different men. A woman had to make a living, after all. She smiled very briefly, then went into her room.

Spike strolled across the parking lot, noting license plates on the cars and shaking his head piously at how many cars had child restraint seats in the back seats.

Sleazy the Motel Clerk barely glanced up from whatever movie he was leering at when the bell on the office door jangled. "Yeah, what c'n I do--urk." He looked up and cringed, obviously recognizing Spike, even when clothed. "Uh, dude, uh ... about that ... didn't mean t'interrupt--"

"Relax, mate, no hard feelings." He smiled genially. "Was just wonderin' when your shift was over, maybe you could give me a hand with something."

Sleazy actually smirked and preened a little. "Be happy to," he said, dropping his voice a little. "Maybe help the lady out with something too?"

The thought of this oozy little worm just coming within touching distance of Ellie nearly made him snarl. Hell, the thought of what kind of help this worm was thinking Spike wanted from him made Spike's balls tighten up defensively.

Sleazy didn't even noticed the way Spike's smile changed. "No need to bother the lady. So when's your shift over?"

"Day guy won't be here for another couple of hours. But it's always quiet this time of night. I like it now, nobody wandering in to interrupt me." He gave his approximation of a leer.

Spike wandered around the counter, looking over everything. There was a button on the desk marked No Vacancy. He pushed the button and saw the sign out by the street flicker to its new setting.

"Guess you really don't want to be interrupted," grinned Sleazy.

He slipped comfortably into his game face as he turned. "I hate being interrupted when I'm eating." Sleazy opened his mouth to yell, and Spike wrapped a hand around the bottom half of his face. "And I really hate following the taste of her up with you, but, you know, whatever's handy." At least there was the lovely taste of terror to season his dinner.

He left the body on the floor behind the counter while he scouted possibilities. The cops in Salt Lake City weren't as stupid--or maybe it was sensible--as the ones in Sunnydale. Bodies found lying around in this town attracted attention. And he didn't want his sleep interrupted with sirens.

The car in front of the room nearest the office had a renewal sticker for the next county south on the license plate, and it had not one but two kiddie seats in the back seat. Spike really doubted the family had stopped over in the Ski-In Motel to catch some sleep instead of heading the rest of the way home. The trunk lock yielded to the blade of his knife, and he left the lid mostly closed as he headed back into the office. A man who cheated on his family deserved to have a corpse found in the boot of his car.

He scouted the office one last time and saw the cash box on the desk. It was unlocked, and soon it was empty. Let the day guy think Sleazy had run off with the cash. One more check to make sure the coast was clear, and he pulled Sleazy's arm around his shoulder to walk him out of the office and over to the car. Not a soul--or soulless--about, so he rolled the body into the trunk and closed the lid in just over a second flat.

Reaching for an after-dinner smoke, he found he was down to his last cigarette and walked over to the 7-Eleven on the corner to get another pack. The car was gone when he came back, and he climbed the steps to his room a contented vampire.

Elizabeth hadn't moved from where he'd left her. He wasted no time getting rid of his clothes, then spent a few minutes making sure the curtains were closed tight, the door was locked and chained, and the Do Not Disturb sign was hanging outside. Finally, after a lazy stretch of satisfaction, he slipped under the covers next to the warm, faintly snoring woman.

Her eyes flickered open when he kissed her. "Where'd'ja go?" she murmured.

"Out of cigarettes," he said, feeling all virtuous for telling the truth. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm." She wiggled closer and put her head on his shoulder.

Thinking embarrassingly mushy thoughts, he puts his arms around her and drifted off.

It was many hours later when he awoke, and several things immediately came to his admittedly bleary attention. He was alone in bed, he could smell coffee, and his arms were stretched over his head in a not very comfortable position. He opened his eyes and looked up. And stared. At his wrists handcuffed around a post on the headboard.

A rustle of paper caught his attention and he looked past his feet.

"Good morning," fully-dressed Elizabeth smiled at him around her cup of 7-Eleven coffee. "Or evening, as the case may be." She shifted the newspaper in her lap as she resettled her feet, which were resting on the dresser as she lounged in the one chair in the room. "You know, maybe it was the booze, but you sleep like--"

He raised his scarred eyebrow.

"A log," she finished with a grin.

The toy bag was next to her on the dresser, and he wondered if he'd be in more trouble if he smiled in anticipation.

"So anyway," Elizabeth said, turning a page in the paper, "you were out like a light when I woke up, and you slept through my shower, so I decided to go get some breakfast. But, you know, when I started to get dressed, I can find my bra but I can't find my panties. You got any idea where they might have gone?"

Spike crossed his ankles and laced his fingers around the post where he was handcuffed. "Not a clue, love," he said casually. "So what did you do?"

"Well, I went without, of course. Course, that was after my little experiment to find out what you can sleep through." She glanced up at his hands and smiled.

"Wait a minute. You left me like this when you went off to get breakfast?"

"Yep."

"So you're wandering around the 7-Eleven with no knickers on, thinking about me back here like this."

She looked thoughtful a moment, then nodded.

"How much did you rub yourself against the crotch of your jeans?" He smiled at her slow blush. "There you are, buying a cup of coffee, rubbing your clit against the seam and soaking your jeans--and I'm sleeping through it. God. How many men did you have to scrape off before you got out of there?"

"None--but, wait, that clerk did keep coming over to make sure I knew how to work the coffee."

"Why the hell didn't you wake me up when you got back?" Wandering around getting herself hot when she had a perfectly willing man handy to do that for her, silly woman. He looked at the jeans she wore, wondering if there was a wet spot.

"Well, you looked so comfy lying there, it seemed cruel to wake you." She folded the newspaper and finished her coffee. "So I just read the paper and drank my coffee and admired the view." She ran her gaze up his naked form appreciatively.

"Well, I'm awake now, so ..."

She leaned back in her chair and smiled. "Oh, but this is pretty." She peeked into the toy bag. "And I don't know if everything got tried out."

Spike figured she had to know he could pop the cuffs any time he wanted, so he wasn't particularly concerned about any ideas she might have. But then she pulled out the feather, and he wondered how good her memory was.

Her smile told him her memory was quite good. "If I recall correctly, you're ticklish."

"So are you."

"But my hands are free." She leaned towards the bed, her eyes on his feet. She put the feather just on the corner of the bed. He managed not to do anything more than move his toes casually. "So, no idea where my panties are, hm?"

"Nope."

"Gosh, how strange. I would have thought you would know." A fingertip approached the sole of his foot first, running down from his toes to his heel. Then the very edge of her fingernail drug back up. He locked his jaw on the noises he wanted to make. Then she ran the tip of her tongue up the sole of his foot and he gasped. She chuckled just before biting lightly on big toe, which made him pull that foot away.

She started rubbing his other foot, digging her thumb into the arch. "No idea at all?" she asked once again, looking up at him.

He met her eyes evenly. "None." A small groan of pleasure escaped as her thumb hit a knotted muscle.

"How very, very odd."

She stood up and began unbuttoning her shirt. Spike's cock twitched in anticipation. She barely looked at him as she dropped the shirt on the floor and started on her jeans, unzipping carefully so as not to catch any hairs. After prying her shoes off with her toes, she walked to the bed, pushing her jeans off her hips until she could step out of them.

Slowly she crawled up the foot of the bed, pausing when she came level with his cock. "Good morning," she said with a smile, then dropped a light kiss on the tip. A small gasp escaped him, then it turned into a larger one as she continued crawling, this time letting her breasts slide along his cock. The lace and satin of her bra dragged along the underside of the shaft, then it slid along her belly. The curls at her groin just tickled his balls as she folded her arms on his chest and rested her chin.

"Comfy?" she asked.

He tilted his hips to rub his groin against hers. "Quite. And you?"

"Oh, yes, definitely." She wiggled a little to get even more comfortable, rubbing against his cock and pushing her breasts against his chest. She winced just a bit.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, really." She blushed faintly. "My nipples are just a little tender."

"Oh, dear. You should let me kiss them better."

"But that would involve me taking off my bra, and if there are lingerie-stealing gremlins about I wouldn't want it to disappear too. I think I should just keep it on."

Spike nearly pouted. She smiled sympathetically and lifted herself up to kiss him. Given their height difference, he thought he might have a chance of shifting his hips just enough to find the way in and make her lose that smug smile. He traced her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth to him. With that end distracted, he moved his hips carefully, trying to focus past the feel of his cock tip sliding through the hairs and the anticipation of a good morning shag.

With maybe an inch to go, Elizabeth pulled away, raising on hands and knees. Grimacing in frustration, he had a wonderful view of her breasts, just out of reach. He watched hopefully as she started to sit up, but she only settled onto his thighs and reached down to lightly stroke his shaft.

"Channeling our inner dominatrix, are we, love?" he muttered.

"Being with you has just been so educational," she said with a smile, sliding her fingers down to gently weigh his balls. He jumped as much as her weight on his legs would let him.

"Come on, love ..." he said against his will. "Give me a break here."

"OK." But her hand pulled away completely, not the kind of break he was hoping for. She leaned down to give the tip a longer kiss, then got off his legs to sit next to him. His eyes narrowed as she reached for the feather. "So light," she observed, drawing the tip across the palm of her hand. "You almost can't feel it." Smiling wickedly, she reached down and traced the feather from behind his balls, over them, then up the bottom of the shaft. He clenched his hands so hard on the headboard that it cracked, though it didn't break.

"Bitch," he gasped.

Elizabeth leaned down to kiss his belly and trace the muscles of his abdomen with her tongue. "I'm going to take that as a compliment." The look he gave her made her glance up at his hands to make sure they were still secure. "But if you don't want to play ..." she shrugged, turning away.

"Oh, I want to play."

She froze at his grunt of effort and the sound of metal popping. "Oops."

"Oops, she says," purred the voice at her ear as cold arms went around her. "Oops." Spike tugged the feather out of her fingers, then pulled her down next to him as he rolled on top. The bracelets of the broken handcuffs were chill against her skin as he rested his arms on her. "Oops," he smiled.

Elizabeth stared up at him, trying to gauge his smile, which was very distracting at close range. "So much for those handcuffs," she said.

"Lots of silk scarves around if we want to play those kinds of games." He moved his arms so that hers were pinned under his, then he traced the end of the feather along her chin. "I would love to see you tied to the corners of a four-post bed. Unfortunately we only get to work with what we've got." The feather ran down along her throat.

"You cheated. You weren't supposed to break the chain like that."

His smile became even more self-satisfied. "I'm like that. I cheat to get my way." He tried to get a knee between her thighs, but she perversely kept her legs together. "I know where you're ticklish," he told her, tracing the top edge of her bra with the feather.

"I was having fun," she pouted.

"Oh, I promise you'll have fun if you stop being silly." He leaned down and kissed her. "And I do think I should warn you that pouting is wasted on me. It encourages my natural sense of perversity."

If there was anything Elizabeth wanted to avoid, it was deeper knowledge of what Spike considered to be perverse. "But I liked seeing you like that," she said, relaxing only enough to let him push her legs apart but not enough to seem like she was giving in.

"Anytime you want to see me stretched out naked, all you have to do is ask."

He finally got her legs apart far enough. The head of his cock went exploring again, but when he found her entrance he stopped, just resting against her. She tried to move her hips against him, but his weight on her kept her from moving. So she just lay still, staring up at him, clenching what muscles she could to tease his cock. Though her arms were pinned to her sides, she could bend her elbows enough that she could reach up and run her fingers along his ribs.

He tried to glare at her, but the slight movements of her body against his encouraged other thoughts. Slowly he pushed his cock in, watching her close her eyes and catch her breath. He put the feather aside and began unfastening her bra. Her erect nipples were a little redder than usual, and he laid a gentle kiss on both. She gasped faintly and tried to pull her arms free. He gave in and let her loose so she could wrap her arms around his ribcage and he could run his fingers through her hair. He kissed her lips as he began to thrust slowly. A smoke in the morning was one of the necessities of life, but a good shag was one of the pleasures.

She ran one foot down his leg as they moved together, neither trying anything athletic, just enjoying the feel of each other. When she had to break the kiss to breathe, he nibbled his way along her jawline to the spot just behind her ear, where he nipped with blunt teeth and smiled to hear her gasp. She slid her hands slowly down his back, feeling his muscles move under his skin. Her hands settled on his ass, and he thrust harder. Wrapping her hair around his hand, he moved in to kiss her again. With his other hand he gently teased her nipples. She moved her hips with him, rubbing her clit against him as he ground into her, until she finally came with a long, loud moan against his lips. He buried himself hard as his own orgasm let go.

More than a few minutes later, Elizabeth was finally able to move her arms, and she ran her hands up his back and over his shoulders. "More mornings should start like this," she sighed. "Or evenings. Or whatever."

Spike muttered agreement, then opened his eyes to give her a lazy smile. "Too bad you took a shower already, I could have told you you'd only get all sweaty again."

"Oh well ..."

"I could use a shower myself. And company is always pleasant."

To be honest, all she wanted to do was lay there and bask for a while. Then she remembered the shower massage on the long hose. By his smile, Spike remembered that too. "Congenial community bathing, it's a good custom. You know," she added, pulling herself up, "getting clean is rather futile if we're just going to crawl back into these sheets."

Spike took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of happy man and happy woman and booze. "Guess we'll just have to pull off the sheets and fuck on the mattress. Floor's good, too. Or the dresser."

"Or the shower," she said helpfully.

"Or the shower."

Elizabeth crawled off the bed, heading slowly but happily for the bathroom. Spike followed, snagging an item from the bag on the dresser.

The tub was not very large, but as Spike had said earlier, it wasn't like they needed a lot of room.

Spike set the water with delicate human skin in mind. If Elizabeth's skin turned red, he wanted it to be from something more fun than too hot water.

"In you go, luv," he said.

Something in his voice made her look at him suspiciously. "You're up to something," she said.

"And this is a bad thing how?" he grinned.

"Oh, I didn't say it was a bad thing, I was just saying." She stepped under the water, sighing happily at the warmth. Spike climbed in after.

First order of business was to get a little bit cleaner. A cheap bottle of shampoo stood on a shelf in the shower. Elizabeth leaned against one wall and watched Spike wash his hair. Between the lovely warm water and the sight of moving muscle, she was a happy woman. He saw her smile and made sure to give her a good show.

Observation got dull after not too terribly long. She found the soap, debated just a moment, then began running soapy hands over his chest.

Spike lowered his arms around her, pulling her tight against him. She still had the soap in one hand and ran it up and down his back, tracing the muscles and the vertebrae. He settled for wet hands on her skin.

He had warmed up quickly. Whatever circulation he had even made his lips and tongue warm on hers. Elizabeth ran the soap down his hip, around his leg, then up.

"Have to make sure everything is clean," she murmured against his lips.

"Of course you do," he agreed. "A clean vampire is a happy vampire."

"And here I thought booze and fucking made you happy."

He tossed wet hair back out of his eyes and ran both hands down her back to her ass. "Lots of stuff makes me happy."

As he kissed her, she fumbled the soap back onto its shelf, then slid her hand down and around his leg. She felt him smile, then he gasped a little as she delicately played with his balls.

"Have to make sure we clean all the tricky bits. And rinse all the soap off." She made sure to get lots of warm water on his cock as well. "Don't much like the taste of soap."

She slipped free of his hands and down to her knees. His nice, clean, very interested cock was handy for inspection. He leaned back against the wall of the shower and gave a happy moan as she pulled him into her mouth.

Warm, wet, very tasty. She'd never managed the knack of deep throating, but he didn't seem to mind as she traced everything with fingers and tongue. His balls twitched in her hand as she rolled them gently back and forth. She felt his fingers tangling in her hair, tightening, then pulling back as he kept himself from grabbing and pulling her head in. It was one form of gentlemanliness.

She got some water up her nose as she nibbled among the hairs at the base of his cock. "If you drown yourself," he said in a tight voice, "I won't have any fun." He pulled at her shoulder to bring her to her feet and kissed her when she was within reach. She reached down to the cock jabbing her in the belly, squeezing and smiling at his moans.

He ran his hands down her back to her ass. She twitched a little as he gently explored the opening, but she didn't seem sore. Without breaking the kiss, he reached up for the handheld shower head and pulled it down. She jumped a little as the angle of the water changed, but he had one arm tight enough around her waist that she couldn't move very far.

"Let's see," he said, studying the dial on the shower head. "Regular is what we've got now, then we've got mist--which is boring--and then we have--yeah, that'll work." He switched it to massage.

For a motel with hourly rates, the place had wonderful water pressure. Elizabeth groaned happily as pulsing water pounded on her shoulders, then down her spine. She knew where he was headed with the thing and shivered, holding on to his arms.

Spike watched her face as he played the water along the curve of her ass. Nudging her feet apart, he aimed the shower head between her legs.

She dug her fingers into his arm as the message pulses went over her clit. "Too ... hard ..." she gasped.

"Can't have that." He directed the water to the opening of her vagina. She whimpered and held on to him. The pounding was all at the surface, though, and the emptiness inside was almost painful. Her hips moved impatiently. "Not enough," she muttered.

"Too hard, not enough," he whispered in her ear. "What's it take to satisfy you?"

She reached down to his cock. "You. In me."

"Yes, ma'am."

He dropped the shower head onto the floor of the tub, backed her against the wall, and lifted her. His cock slammed into her as her arms and legs wrapped around him. She tightened herself as hard as she could, pushing her hips against him. He kept the thrusts short, wanting to stay buried as deep as he could. Her clit, sensitized from the water, rubbed against him, and she was driven into a hard, fast orgasm that made her whimper. Watching her face, he grinned until his own climax made him growl and bury his face against her neck, blunt teeth grazing the skin.

He pulled out of her slowly, then ran his finger through the hot fluids and back to the tighter opening. Her eyes were still closed and she moaned faintly as he slid the finger up inside. He thrust in and out a few times, then carefully slid a second finger in.

She gasped and opened her eyes, but only tensed a moment before leaning against him and making herself relax.

"Feel good?" he asked softly.

"Uh huh."

"You up to three?"

"I--think so."

He pulled free and reached for the bottle of oil he'd brought with him from the bedroom. He coated two fingers and slid them inside, making her croon with pleasure, then slid three fingers in. She went up on tiptoe in surprise, but she pushed back against his hand. He tugged one of her hands around and poured some oil into the palm, then put the oil back on the shelf, pulled her hand down to his cock and wrapped her fingers around him. He groaned as she stroked him, covering him with the oil.

She blinked up at him, gasping as his fingers shifted inside her. Slowly he pulled his hand free, then he turned her around and eased her back against him. Almost unconsciously, she shifted to help him center himself, then she put her hands against the shower wall and could only make faint noises as he took hold of her hips and pushed slowly into her.

"Oh god," he gasped as he finally slid all the way in. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him, letting her relax around him and keeping himself from exploding inside her. "You OK?"

"Uh huh. Dear god, you're so--" She whimpered as he rocked slightly out then back in.

He chuckled in agreement. "So hard and ready to explode. 'Cause you're so tight and hot and squeezing me ..." He reached down to play with her clit, just to feel her tremble around him. Leaning forward, he kissed the side of her neck, running the tip of his tongue along the fang marks. The thought teased him again, that no one would be looking for her for another day yet. Tuck her still form into her Subaru, take her to the DeSoto, and be off. He could be in another country with her before she was missed. But it was her heat he craved, not just her blood. He pulled back, then buried himself in her, bathing in her pulse and moans of pleasure.

Her mind was off somewhere bright and glorious. She reached around to feel his hips moving against her. One of his hands tormented her clit and the other cradled a breast, squeezing the nipple. When he slid two fingers into her vagina, with his thumb still on her clit, her knees went out completely as she came.

Spike felt his game face come out as she clamped around his cock. He could barely move, but it was enough to push him over the edge with her. When the tips of his fangs touched her throat, she let her head fall back against his shoulder, giving him full access. A trickle of red ran into the water drops on her body and snaked down over the curve of her breast. He only barely managed to pull his fangs out before the urge to feed could get the best of him.

Somehow they reached the floor of the tub without bashing their skulls on anything. The shower head was still pulsing out water, which had gone a good bit cooler. It was still a couple of minutes before Spike could reach up and turn off the water. Elizabeth lay against him, utterly limp and content.

"Are we clean enough?" he finally asked.

"In the soap and water sense, yep. Neutral observers might have a different opinion on a moral basis."

"Neutral observers can go bugger themselves." He ran a hand along as much of her body as he could reach. "Or they can watch while I bugger you."

"In the bed, this time, please." She blinked to greater awareness. "Or, um, hmm."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I would be delighted to bugger you in the bed. Anywhere else you want, too."

"My eyes are still crossing."

"Nothing says we can't take a bit of a break. We've got hours yet."

Elizabeth relaxed against him, grateful for the reprieve but beginning to wonder what his reaction to that string of beads might be. Hours yet to be inventive in.

***

Monday evening, and Leah Winthrop was beginning to worry. Granted, Elizabeth had only said she'd be back sometime relatively late on Monday, but Leah would have preferred promptness.

Finally she heard the back door open and uneven footsteps heading down to the basement apartment. She only debated a moment before hurrying down. She found her sister slowly beginning to undress in the middle of her living room. Even a human sense of smell could tell what had been going on.

Elizabeth blinked. "Hello."

"Hi. You OK?"

"Are you checking up on me? That's sweet."

Leah frowned. There were at least two fresh bite marks on her neck, and faint bruises showed on her arms. But the exhausted happy smile held no shadows. "You still haven't said if you're OK."

"OK is such a relative term. Am I tired, sore, and going to be walking funny in the morning? Yes. Do I feel really, really good? Also yes. Do you want more details than that? I'm thinking no." She yawned hugely. "I may even need to call in dead tomorrow."

Leah couldn't help but shift a little so she could see her sister's reflection in the window. Silly, but it never hurt to be sure. Reluctantly she smiled. "You look like you had a good time."

Elizabeth's grin was supremely satisfied. "I believe I may be able to make my fortune writing letters to Penthouse Forum."

"And that is the point at which I say too much information. You hungry?"

"Sleep first, entire herd of dead steak on the hoof later. Toodles." She wiggled her fingers at Leah then toddled towards her bedroom. Leah watched her go and wondered what kind of bribe Spike might be interested in to make him go away and leave her sister alone.