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He was her brother now. Her younger brother. Both seventeen, but she was older by three days. She looked up into those steely blue eyes. "I'm older than you so I'm in charge."
He didn't look convinced. "Look, you little –" he paused, thinking better of what he'd been about to say. "Look, Willow. I know my mum married that pathetic excuse for a human being you call a father, but that doesn't mean I have to like it and the second I turn eighteen, I'm out of here. So let's ignore each other while our folks are on their honeymoon and it'll be over right quick, yeah?"
He could tell she didn't like what he said. With every word, her breathing got heavier, her eyes got harder, her posture got straighter. God, she's fucking beautiful.
Not giving her time to answer, he grabbed her under the arms and lifted her to him, assaulting her mouth as her legs wrapped around his waist. He fell backward onto the sofa and she lifted onto her knees as he pulled his zipper down. She pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and lowered herself in one quick motion, and took him in to the hilt.
"Been wanting this," he confessed. "Been wanting you like this."
Between each rock of her hips she asked, "Then why do you act like you hate me?"
He used his hands to lift her blouse over her head. The blouse she'd worn to their parents' wedding. "Because yer m' sister. Not supposed ta want this."
She let him pull down her bra and felt the pull of his mouth as it fastened around a nipple. She wrapped limp arms around his head, pulling him closer. "Mmmmm, screwing my little brother. I like the sound of that."
He smiled against her skin. "Oh yeah. Gonna fuck yer brains out, sis. Gonna," he paused to thrust up sharply, hitting that spot he knew would make her his. "Gonna shag my big sis all over this house in the next week. How about after this, you give your little brother a bath?"
She smiled and twisted her hips as she lowered herself, making Spike's eyes roll back in his head. A couple more twists and a pelvic roll later, and Spike was holding her down by the shoulders and screaming her name as he shot her full of cum.
As soon as he was calm enough to think, his eyes shot open. "Fuck! Are you on the pill?"
Willow slid his hand down to her hip. "Patch."
He was about to voice his relief when a new thought occurred to him. She hadn't come. He turned them slightly and lowered her to the sofa, sliding down her body when she was in place.
"Been wantin' to do this too, sis."
He ghosted soft, closed mouth kisses across her waxed pussy; his mind irrationally mad at whoever she had gotten it waxed for. There wouldn't be anyone but little brother for her from now on; he'd do everything he could to convince her.
The point of his tongue found her slit and he let it slip inside, tasting her tangy secretions for the first time. As his tongue moved closer to her cunt, her taste got saltier and he realized that was him mixing with her. His cum flowing out of her sweet cunt, evidence that he'd been inside this sacred place.
Fuck! That's so bloody erotic.
He licked and sucked her with renewed vigor, relishing the taste of them together. When she was begging for completion, he inserted one long finger inside her and curled it forward, tapping on that perfect spot.
"Spike, oh god, SPIIIIIIKE!" she begged, getting closer and closer.
"Come for me, Luv. Wanna taste you, baby, want you to –" and she did, her orgasm crashing through her body like a wave. He moved quickly, resuming his place on her pussy, rubbing her clit with his tongue, as she passed through one orgasm after another.
When she finally begged him to stop, he showed mercy and crawled on his fists back up her body. He settled in behind her on the couch and pulled her back into his chest.
They lay there for a few minutes; spent, sated, sleepy. After a few minutes, Spike rubbed his hard on into her butt.
"Want you again."
She smiled. "I know."
"Am I – " his voice faltered. "Am I gonna get to shag you again?" He sounded very unsure, not at all like the punk bad boy Spike who'd been inhabiting his body for the last year that she'd known him.
Willow turned over to face him, caressing his cheek with the backs of her fingers.
"My poor little brother," she said sympathetically. "Haven't you been getting any from your myriad girlfriends? Gotta go slumming with your bookworm sister?"
His jaw tensed. "Not slumming. I've been 'getting' just fine. Just not getting what I really wanted is all. Been trying to keep from jumping my sister. Incest and all that rot."
"Incest is best, put your sister to the test," she joked.
Spike lowered his head. Right before his lips touched hers, he confirmed, "You passed."
His kisses were melting. Who knew he could be this tender? All-consuming, she had pretty much figured. But gentle? That was a surprise. A wonderful surprise. Not that she wanted him gentle all the time.
She pulled away to tell him, "It's not incest you know. We're not blood related. We weren't even raised as siblings."
Spike stopped in the middle of the creation of a beautiful hickey to whine, "Can't we just say it is, sis? Come on, what's a little fucking between brother and sister?"
As a game, she was all for it. But… "Is that all it is? Just because I'm your sister now?"
"Hell no! Wanted to bury my dick in your sweet little ass the first day I arrived at Sunnydale High, but you wouldn't give me the time of day. Kinda glad about that now -in a sick kind of way. Cause when Mum started dating the King of all Dorks aka your dad, you let me get in, just a little. Let me see that yer not all books and computer programs. There's a soft, sexy girl in there and I never would have seen it if I'd shagged ya and bagged ya." His hand lowered across her chest, down her abdomen, and inside her slit to slide inside her warm body.
"And I want all of it. The geek, the woman, the soft, chewy center. And the big sister, cuz God that makes me so fucking hot." He curled his tongue behind his teeth and gave her that look, the one that could melt icebergs in three seconds flat.
"So, little brother – you said something about a bath?"
This is impossible.
So bloody perfect like you'd never believe, but impossible.
How is it possible that his loathsome and bookish older sister is immersed in the hot water of their parents' bathtub with him, riding his cock while she lets him suck her tits? I mean, really. What are the odds?
And she tastes like… there isn't even a word. No baby is ever gettin' near these, that's for sure. Why waste them on a rugrat?
She does that thing again where she grabs him like a vice with the muscles in her cunt and he's gone. Screaming her name, eyes-rolled-back-in-his-head gone. She's come twice already but that feel of hot liquid shooting inside her takes her over a third time.
She relaxes against him, sweat dripping down her body to him, mingling with the sweat of his, that new salty concoction making its way into the steaming bathwater.
It's so perfect. So hot.
Until she giggles.
"Why didn't we think of this six months ago when we'd glare at each other across the kitchen table?" she asks. "This would have been so much more fun."
Spike thinks about it. "Think one of the reasons this is so good is that we spent those six months glarin' at each other. God, I hated you."
She looks up at him, perplexed. "Why? I mean, yeah, you played the bratty younger brother part perfectly, but why did you hate me?"
She snuggled close to his chest again, letting him know that he could trust her with his secrets. When he didn't seem to want to answer, she kissed and licked her way up his neck. "Come on, little bro," she whispered. "Tell big sis why you spent all that time hating me instead of getting naked with me." She sucked his earlobe into her mouth.
"You took Mum away from me. Had been just me and her for so long, and now she had the daughter she always wanted. Don't see me bonding with your pop anytime soon, do you? So I was on my own."
She looked at him and smiled, letting him know that she understood. "Don't worry, little brother. Your big sister will take care of you. Never let you be lonely again." She rocked on his lap and he felt himself growing hard again. But-
"'M hungry, sis. How 'bout I take you out to dinner?"
"It's two o'clock in the morning, Spike."
"McDonald's it is, then, Luv, seein' as how it’s the only thing open. Let's get dressed."
"A number one for me and the lady'll have a –" he paused, and turned to Willow, who ordered french fries, an apple pie and an orange drink.
Loud singing from the doorway made them turn around and a large group of teenagers came piling in, singing and laughing and –
"Spike!" Angel called, walking over to greet his best friend.
"Hey. What's up?" He kept a surreptitious eye on Willow to see how she wanted to play this. Her friend Buffy had gone up to her and begun telling her something quietly, a blush staining her face. Wonder what Slutty's been doing now?
Angel demanded his attention and Spike grabbed the tray with their order and followed Angel over to a table. The group had an entire quarter of the restaurant and Spike was a little disappointed that Willow sat so far away from him. He was very disappointed that she never even seemed to glance at him.
"You're fucking her, aren't you?"
The whispered voice shook him. "What? No!"
Angel laughed. "If you say so."
"Bugger this. I need a smoke. Be right back."
Spike didn't usually like the no smoking in public places law, but this time it gave him an excuse to get away from Willow's indifference and Angel's questions.
He found a spot behind the drive-thru sign and went over his current grievances in his head as he lit up.
"I'm not ignoring you."
She'd come looking for him. That was a good sign, right?
"Sure as bloody shit looked like it to me."
"Ok, I am ignoring you, but – I don't want them to know. You're my brother, Spike. We can't let anyone know."
"I'm not yer damn brother! Me mum happens to be married to yer pop, don't mean shit!"
"You know what I mean!" Why was he being so difficult? The bad boy of yesterday was back, apparently, wanting what he wanted when he wanted it. She should have known. "Look, just because we – did that – doesn't mean you get to decide things for me! You are not my boyfriend. You are not my father. You have no right to decide –"
She broke off when he grabbed her and forced his way into her mouth. God, she loved this.
When he pulled back enough to let her breathe, she smiled and asked, "Isn't this how we got in trouble the first time?"
He took her hand and pulled her to his DeSoto, pulling her sweatpants down as soon as the door was closed. "Come on, Luv. Get those off." His jeans almost magically disappeared and once again he was buried deep inside her.
"Fuck yeah." He sighed in relief at being back.
"Mmm, like you best this way," she whispered in the dark.
"Me too," he agreed as his knuckles turned white grasping her hips. "So far inside you I forget where I end and you start."
She smiled. "I meant 'quiet' but yours is good too."
They made love in silence this time. Just holding onto each other as they sought and achieved connection in the shadowy backseat of Spike's car. This time was different and they both knew it. This time was for real. This time there would be no pretending it was just a game. This time it was Spike and Willow making real love because that's where their futures lie.
Too real and too scary to say out loud.
She couldn't see his blue eyes watching her, but she knew they were. And she couldn't look away. She wanted to say it, needed to say it.
"I- " she couldn't. Because she couldn't, not yet, could she?
"I know, Willow. Me too."
She rocked one last time and then shook as her climax threw her into the sky and shattered her body among the stars. She felt Spike right there with her.
They still didn't say anything as they got dressed. He kissed her beside the car and let her go back in first.
Someone stepped out of the shadows of the building as he pulled his duster back on.
"I knew you were fucking her."
Angel. Spike's eyes blasted flames.
"It's not like that."
"Fuck. You love her."
Spike didn't answer, just went back inside.
"Don't worry, man. If I had a sister looked like that, I'd fuck her too." Angel never saw the fist that clocked him.
The gang came running and everyone wanted to know what had happened. Spike was unnaturally silent on the issue. Once Angel had been supplied with ice, he told them all, "I hit a door."
Xander was incredulous. "I saw him hit you, man!"
Angel stared Xander down, making sure there was no mistake. "I hit a door. We clear?"
They all agreed. Everyone went and sat and the talking continued, almost as if nothing had happened. But Spike knew. And so did Angel. And as long as Willow wanted to keep it secret, no one else ever would.
The sheets were wet with sweat and cum and Willow was going down for the count. They'd been making love for hours and now the sun was rising and pink light was hitting their sweat-streaked bodies. Spike lay atop Willow, arms stretched above them, holding her hands in place as his lower body slowly moved inside her. His chest grazed the tips of her nipples every time he bent his head for a kiss.
"Want you," he told her, holding her green gaze.
"You've got me."
"Not just now. Always."
"You've got me."
The pink light disappeared from her face as he kissed her again.
When she woke up at four thirty, he was gone. They'd fallen asleep in his bed, in his messy room. Not that the room across the hall was really "hers" yet. She hadn't even officially moved into it. The movers had brought her stuff over on Friday and she and Dad had spent the night before the wedding at Aunt Chelley's. Why did they have to move into Anne's house anyway?
Okay, so the apartment was too small. But she liked her room. Liked its aqua walls and fuzzy carpet. Liked the view of the park and the way you could hear the birds as the sun rose. She hadn't heard the birds this morning. She blushed. But then, she hadn't really been listening for birds, had she?
Until yesterday, her sexual experience had been limited. Severely limited. Dad had made her get birth control for her sixteenth birthday, saying he didn't want to know, he just wanted all the bases covered. And there was always a conspicuous supply of condoms in the top drawer in her bathroom. She wondered where he'd put the condoms now that they lived in Anne's house. Because wow – she was gonna need 'em.
She thought of Spike's hands and all the ways he'd touched her. Nothing like Oz's sweet fumblings as they took each other's virginity. There was nothing awkward about Spike's technique. She closed her eyes, not wanting to picture how he learned that technique. Or how many girls he had practiced it on. Who had Spike fumbled on? How long ago had he had that first scary race of his heart as he touched a girl for the first time? Who had she been?
Did he still see her? Spike never had one girlfriend. But he never seemed to lack for company. Oh, God, how could she compete with that? Did she want to?
Her stomach rumbled and she headed down to the kitchen. It felt funny going through someone's cabinets. What felt funnier is that they were her cabinets now too. How weird is that? She looked around at Anne's homey white walls with tiny butter-coloured tulips and yellow curtains. This was her house now too; hers and Dad's. So why weren't there any Frosted Flakes? She always ate Frosted Flakes.
She grabbed a granola bar instead and headed toward the music. The door from the laundry room into the garage was open and bright sunshine flooded the garage. Spike, from the chest down anyway, was visible under his DeSoto, cursing under his breath about a bolt that wouldn't come loose. He wasn't wearing a shirt.
Of course he wasn't. Spike was the kind of guy who didn't wear a shirt. He was the kind of guy who could wear only a pair of old Levi's and look like he was on the cover of a magazine. Spike was a Cute Guy – you know the ones. The ones who bounce when they walk. That little strut that told the world that they were entitled.
She was… not. Not cute, not entitled, not anything that made a guy like Spike take notice. And the Cute Guys always knew just the right thing to say. The right thing to keep from getting detention, the right thing to get the hard ass teachers to give them an extension on an overdue assignment… the right thing to get into a plain girl's panties.
Oh, God, what had she done!
"Spike, I'm going to Buffy's – I'll probably be home late!" she called as she ran out of the garage, not giving him a chance to laugh at her.
She'd go to Buffy's and spend hours listening to the angst in the Further Adventures of Buffy. She wouldn't let Buffy ask her any questions, she'd turn the topic away from herself if it happened to stray in that direction. Buffy would be the perfect distraction. With any luck, when she got home, Spike would be asleep – or on a date.
There were no lights on in the house. He was gone, probably on a date. She refused to let her mind wonder who he was with. It was after ten and tomorrow was a school day but guys like Spike didn't worry about things like that.
An odd light in the kitchen sent her in that direction, figuring Spike had left the patio light on. She'd just turn it off and head to bed before he got home.
It wasn't the patio light. It wasn't even the patio. It was dozens of candles sitting around the pool, lighting it up like a fairyland. And in the middle, floating on a raft as if he hadn't a care in the world, was Spike.
Maybe his girlfriend was in the bathroom! She had to get out of here fast.
Somehow she knew there wasn't a girl in the bathroom.
She turned back toward the pool and there he was, walking toward her and smiling timidly as if he was afraid she might turn away again.
One strong hand took hers and the other slid through her hair, pulling her close.
"I'm sorry for whatever I did, Luv. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"What you did?" she asked.
"The way you tore out of here, I must have done something. Was it not bein' there when ya woke up? You were just sleeping so peacefully and I didn't want to disturb you. M' brain was thinking up all sorts of ways to wake you up sssoooo nicely, but I'd kept you up all night, so –" He stopped because she looked confused. "Wasn't that then. Um, I drank all the milk?"
She smiled and shook her head.
"The car?" he asked in genuine puzzlement. He couldn't figure out what his beloved automobile could do with her being upset.
"Nope," she confirmed.
He thought. "That's m' list. I'm out of ideas."
She smiled and pointed to the romantic display of candles. "This something you normally do?"
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to the pool's edge. "Only when I'm about to tell a girl I love her."
Her whole body halted as if time itself had stopped.
"Too soon?" he asked.
"How many times have you- you- you, um- you told a girl you love her?"
"Counting this one?"
He seemed to think it over, even used his fingers to count them up. She turned and headed for the house, her heart crumbling and dying.
"One. Counting this one – one." It was barely a whisper but she heard it.
She sent a silent prayer heavenward. Thank you.
"Willow, I Lo-"
She turned back and met his eyes. "How many girls have you made love to?"
"One," he answered honestly. "It was last night. You were there."
As much as her heart soared, she had to get this out. "You know what I mean, Spike. How many girls have you had sex with?"
The answer came immediately to his lips. "Eight."
"Oh." Eight. Less than she thought but oh, so many more than she'd been hoping for.
"You?" he asked.
"Girls? None. Guys. Two. Including you."
"Oz?" he asked.
"Of course, Oz! What do you think I am, some kind of slut?"
"That what I am?" he asked, through gritted teeth, that muscle in his jaw twitching.
She didn't look at him. She didn't really think that, but mainly because boys couldn't be sluts, could they?
"It's different for boys," she said, finally.
"That so? Why?"
She didn't have an answer for that either.
"Didn't think so."
He walked past her and into the house. She heard the front door slam and heard his car start up.
It took her a while to blow out all the candles. It took even longer to find her way up to her new room with tears in her eyes. She didn't like this room. It was cold and the walls were grey and it smelled funny. She liked… she liked Spike's room. But she didn't think she should go in there. She found the shirt he'd been wearing yesterday on the floor in the bathroom. As she held it close and brought it to her room, she thought of how it got there.
He'd carried her up the stairs. Kissed her like she wanted to die from it. Held her like she was something cherished. Took her clothes off with such delicate care that she'd felt… loved.
He'd made sure the water was just the right temperature for her and made sure she was always in the spray, always warm enough. He'd washed her hair for her. They'd made love with her back against the tile, her legs wrapped around his hips and him holding her so she didn't fall.
He'd talked to her the whole time, told her she was beautiful and he was so lucky to be here with her. Quoted poetry and begged her to stay the night in his room.
But he probably did that with every girl. As she cried herself to sleep, she knew she was lying to herself.
The birds woke her up. The soft sounds of early morning. Birds, a few cars, a dog getting in a good chase.
She shouldn't have been surprised to see him sitting on her floor – asleep – but she was. Platinum curls mussed from either sleep or worry, clothes rumpled. His back was against the box marked 'Willow's room - academic awards/stuffed animals' and her Babar was held snuggly against his chest.
She started to sit up but her eye caught something sitting on the bed. A small something, a small black something that was mostly burned. Sitting up and blinking her eyes into wakefulness, she picked it up. It was a tiny book, or the remains of a tiny burned book. Only the words 'Little Black Book' remained on what was left of the cover.
She smiled and felt him watching her. She looked up.
"I'm sorry," she said, at the same exact time he did. They both smiled and both called out "Jinx!" at the same time. Then they both laughed.
Her alarm sounded and she rolled her eyes. Talk about bad timing. Spike winked and stood and walked out the door and she hoped that meant she was forgiven. She heard the shower running as she decided on what to wear to school.
One granola bar and a glass of Cran-raspberry later, and she was ready to go. Spike hadn't come down yet so she grabbed another granola bar and a juice box and waited for him by the front door. She didn't want to be late. He practically ran down the front steps and had grabbed her books from the table without saying anything and headed out the front door before he stopped and turned around. Setting her books on the table once more, he closed the front door again and backed her into it.
A kiss. A soft, sweet, I love you kiss. Not demanding, just… needing. Needing to know that they'd be all right. She returned it gratefully. She needed too.
They drove to school in silence, but it was a good silence. He took her hand and kept her behind the car for a moment, kissing her again before they faced the world.
Classes were classes. It kind of startled her that it didn't show. That a tattoo saying, 'I spent the weekend screwing my brother' hadn't somehow appeared on her forehead. No one guessed, no one said she looked different.
In Computer Science, Ms. Calendar said "I hear congratulations are in order. You and Spike are officially siblings now." She'd timed it perfectly because Spike was walking in right behind her.
"She's playing the bossy older sister part to perfection, yeah," he grumbled with a smile.
Willow turned and winked at him, "Well, if you weren't such a brat!"
The class laughed and they all sat. Willow looked across the room to him and they shared a secret smile.
They didn't usually sit together at lunch but Angel was behind her in line and offered to carry her tray. He carried it to his own table and sat her tray down in front of the seat next to Spike's. Buffy and Amy saw them and came over and sat there as well.
Sitting there was tense. They both wanted to talk, but were afraid if they did, they'd give their secret away. They desperately needed to touch, but that would be even worse.
So neither of them said anything. When lunch was almost through, she ducked her head and whispered, "You promised me always. They're going to have to know eventually."
"Oh, thank hell," Spike breathed in relief and pulled her into his lap and kissed her. The table – and then the lunchroom – laughed and cheered.
"I love you, Spike."
"Love you too, baby. I love you too."
The bell rang and Buffy called out, "Wills, stop kissing your brother, we have to get to class."
Willow smiled and told Spike goodbye. She expected to hear crap from Buffy and Amy but she didn't. They just went on as if the drama of Willow and Spike wasn't the disastrous center of the universe. Because it wasn't. At least, not until Dad and Anne got home.
She could feel the blood rushing in her ears as she headed for the car after school. Her heart was beating like jungle drums and her hands were sweaty. Spike was already there, unlocking his door. He heard her coming and turned and his face got serious. "We have to talk about last night."
She walked into his arms and felt better. "We really don't. I messed up and I'm sorry. I don't think that, you know I don't. Can't we just let it go?"
"Are ya sure?"
They drove home, talking about their day. When Spike turned into the driveway, he hit the clicker on his dash that opened the garage door. Pulling slowly inside, he clicked it again and the door shut behind them. He shut off the engine and crooked a finger at Willow.
"C'mere." That one little word had such lascivious intent behind it that Willow couldn't resist. In the spacious seats, it was easy to straddle Spike's lap and grind her hips into his.
"Little brother needs some lovin', sis."
She moaned into his kiss. His hands worked their way up her shirt as they kissed, trying to separate her from the torture device of her clothing. Her being in clothes was torturing him. The single sexiest thing he could think of was Willow, naked in his car.
Feeling the shirt separate as the last button popped free, he felt around back for her bra hooks but couldn't find them. His lust-addled brain kept looking for it as Willow unsnapped the front clasp before pulling his t-shirt free of his jeans.
This whole time she'd been rubbing her twill-covered pussy against his denim-covered cock and it was sssoooooo good, but it wasn't enough.
"Up," he urged right before licking across one breast, hoping to get her out of her pants quickly. But the task proved more difficult than they'd hoped and she couldn't stand to stop riding him that long so they rubbed and panted and moaned and sucked themselves into coming in their jeans.
Immediate lust sated, and knowing he had a few minutes refractory period, Spike took his time getting her out of her remaining clothes, smiling at the Donald Duck socks she wore. With her Daffy Duck sneakers. If he'd been in a more innocent frame of mind, he might have pointed out that that was probably a conflict of interest but he had better things to do right now.
Task almost complete except for her knickers, Spike climbed over into the back seat and pulled her behind him, removing her cotton underwear as she came. Willow couldn't believe she was about to have sex in the back seat of a car – that was sitting in a garage!
"This is just so tacky!" she laughed as he pulled the button on his jeans open.
"Ain't it just?" Spike agreed, dropping his zipper then dropping his jeans in one fluid motion.
A lift of a leg, a small adjustment and presto – he was right where he wanted to be.
"Feel so good," he praised her. "Mmmm, you too," she agreed. "I'm sorry about last night," she felt compelled to add.
He kissed her neck and whispered, "We're not gonna talk about that, remember?"
"I know," she replied. "But I'm still sorry."
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he flipped them so that he was now on the bottom with his back against the leather. "Prove it." He stopped moving.
She'd never done this all by herself before.
"Luv, yer killin' me here," Spike groaned and thrust up, desperate for some friction.
As gently as she could, she sat up and put her hands on the roof for leverage. Using her knees, she lifted – and dropped.
"Fuck!" Spike yelled, grabbing her hips and holding on.
She did it again.
"Bloody hell! If I didn't love ya before, I sure as shit would now!" he groaned as the shockwaves rushed through him.
She smiled and did it again, this time letting herself feel it too. Golly, that did feel good. She flattened her palms against the roof and held on as she sped up her movements. Spike's fingernails were clawing into her hips now and it was so. darn. good.
The windows steamed up as their breathing got harsher. Neither one noticed. Spike's legs bent and his hands left her hips and pushed against the door above his head, trying to get that infinitesimal degree deeper into her.
He opened his eyes. She was radiant. Eyes closed, head fallen to the side, whole being concentrated on that one place where they connected. So bloody perfect for him.
"I love you."
Her eyes opened and met his. Shining emeralds falling into a deep sea.
"I love you," she answered.
It wasn't the physical, they'll swear it wasn't. It was the words. Their bodies exploded into a million flying pieces of glittering diamonds, only to be miraculously brought back into one flawless piece as the orgasmic climax faded. She fell onto his chest panting.
Wrapping weak arms around her, he couldn't help but observe, "Your father's gonna kill me."
She nodded. "Yup."
Five days passed in a blur of kisses and schoolwork, candle light and pizza. Bubble bath flowed in the tub and Spike's sheets got changed at an alarming rate. She hadn't spent another night in her own room. They'd never been nude so much in their lives and they'd never been happier.
It was all about to end.
Their friends and teachers had taken their commitment to each other pretty well, but tomorrow at noon, their parents were due home.
Willow had set the dining room table with Anne's good china, Spike had grilled steaks in the backyard. They ate as if savouring every moment, because they were.
"We'll be eighteen in three months. They can't stop us then." Spike observed.
Willow nodded. "But they can stop us until then."
Spike rose from his seat and knelt beside her. "No they can't, I won't let them."
"We have to live here, Spike. And I don't want to hurt my dad and I know you don't want to hurt Anne."
Spike couldn't believe his ears. "Are you saying you don't want to-" he couldn't even say it, but she was quick to set him straight. "NO! No, I'm not saying that. I love you, you know I do. But we have to play this right. And we have to play down the little brother-big sister aspect. We have to make them see that we don't see each other like that at all."
Even in the candlelight she saw Spike's eyes darken and knew what she'd said that made them do that. The heat between her legs proved that this particular kink was one she shared as well. Oh boy, did she!
The pitch of her voice changed, becoming something teasing and seductive. "Don't you agree, my sweet little brother?" She licked her bottom lip. "Mommy and Daddy can never know what we're doing. You can't tell them about how you sneak me into your room at night and make love to me until dawn. Can't know that-"
Spike, caught up in the fantasy, broke in. "Can't know that this little brother lusts after his older sister? Can't know how my hands itch to touch you every time I see you? Can't know how much you love to feel your baby brother's cock buried inside you?"
He pulled her onto the floor next to him, the sound of her knees hitting the ground muffled by the blue carpet. As they pulled each other's clothes off, he went on.
"Love that you're my sister. Love that I get to see you every day and touch you every night and make love to you every chance I get. We'll find a way, we'll hide from our parents if we have to but this is one little brother who is not giving up-" he was kissing his way down her stomach now, "his big sister's sweet pussy," he licked the anatomy in question, "no matter what anyone has to say about it."
She was already wet and creaming for him and it took almost nothing to make her come with his mouth. That didn't make him stop tasting her though. He kept at it through three more orgasms, telling her how good she tasted and moaning every time she came.
She'd called out Spike the first time, but he begged, "Brother" between licks and so she'd started calling, "God! Yes! Right there! Brother, fuck! Little brother – that's so hot! Wanna fuck my brother-" she moaned and arched her back. "Oh yeah. Love my brother - really love my brother – want my brother to love me right into the floor – God, I'm so pervy! Oh, yeah, right there! Right – yeah, right there! Spike! Sexy little brother! God! Sexiest little brother ever!" She was becoming incoherent.
"Even if I was your real sister, we'd be doing this – oh GOOOODDDD! Spi- i- i- i- i- i- i- i- i- i- i- i-ke!" She came so hard she was uncontrollably shaking with it.
Spike reached up onto the table and got her glass of wine that she drank when she was able to hold the glass.
She motioned him up into a chair and with a smile, he complied.
"Sis gonna give me a treat?" he asked when she knelt in front of him. She licked a long slow stroke up his rock hard cock that looked almost painful, it was straining so much.
Looking up through her lashes she reminded him, "I told you your big sister would always take good care of you." Then she swallowed him whole.
"Fuck!" His hands went to her hair, not pulling, although he wanted to, just feeling her as she went down on him. The bob of her head made him open his eyes. That beautiful russet hair flowing into his lap made him groan. His real father had had auburn hair. If he'd actually had a natural sister, she might look like Willow.
"Fuck yeah!" Lost in fantasies of growing up with Willow in his house and his bed, he tried hard not to come too quickly. They were close in age, they would have played together as children – bathed together. God, what a thought. Being there as she grew and her body changed, watching her breasts develop – oh yeah, that would have been fun. Watching her turn from a gawky young girl into a curvy young woman. She was right, if they'd actually been siblings, they'd still have ended up fucking.
God, why was it so hot thinking about fucking your sister? He looked down again. And why was it even hotter watching her blow you?
His hands fisted in her hair and he filled her mouth with cum. She didn't like his taste as much as he liked hers, honestly he didn't either – unless it was mixed with hers, that is. The taste of them together was intoxicating. But even though he was salty, she still swallowed it. Yeah, that was hot too.
He pulled her up onto his lap and into his arms and kissed the remnants of himself from her lips.
His cum on her lips… definitely hot.
When he was sure he'd gotten all of it, he helped her stand. "Bet you never did the dishes in the nude before."
With a smile like that, how could she resist? They cleaned up the dining room and the kitchen, pausing every second or so to kiss or touch.
He led her up to his, no their, bedroom. Most of her stuffed animals were now in here and her computer took up most of his desk. Three of the five CDs in the changer were hers and a purple scarf covered the lamp.
He pushed the blankets onto the floor, her pillow with its Fozzie Bear pillowcase falling with them. His pillow, in its plain red case, stayed where it was so he pushed it aside as well before laying Willow out like a banquet on the bed.
He took in the sight of her white skin and red hair against his black sheet. "You're beautiful."
These compliments had embarrassed her at first, but she was getting used to them. Not only that he said them, but that he meant them. That had been harder to get used to. But he did mean it, she could see it in his eyes. She doesn't know why she used to think he was so cold. He was the most warm and open person she'd ever met.
He smiled at her, delighted that she could now take his compliments without making snide comments about his eyesight or taste in women.
He crawled into bed with her. "You don't have to leave. This is your room too. They'll just have to learn to deal."
She smiled, not answering. It was a lovely daydream.
"Eeyore won't know what to do with himself if he has to sleep in a strange bed," he begged. "Don't make him leave, he'll be so sad. Well, sadder."
"I won't," she promised.
He turned onto his back and they both looked at the reflection of the streetlight on the ceiling. She decided to indulge him.
"They'll come home and we'll tell them and they'll be so happy when they see how much we love each other," she told him, trying to will it so.
"Yeah, and you'll sleep here in my arms every night and everything will be just like this," he continued.
"Except we'll have to stop making love in their bathtub. I don't think my dad will like that."
"No," he agreed, "Mum won't care much for that either. And no more making love on the patio at midnight." He sighed.
"Or in your car after school."
"But still – happy, remember?" she reminded him. "We can hold hands at the table and I can still sit on your lap when we watch Scooby Doo and The Forensic Files. And you can still hide your face in my shirt when they cut open the bodies."
"Yeah," he mused thoughtfully, "But I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to stop sucking your tits during the commercials."
"Probably, yeah. Can't see my dad being okay with that."
The thought was so funny they both started laughing.
"I love you," she told him, making them both become serious again.
"I love you too, baby. I'll always love you, no matter what they say or do tomorrow. Don't forget that, please don't forget that."
He was so sincere. So sure something terrible was going to happen. But maybe it wouldn't, right? Maybe it would only be slightly disturbing.
"I won't forget. And don't you give up on me either. Even if Dad sends me to live with Aunt Chelley."
"I hope she has a big house because if he does, I'm going with you. I'm not an infant, Luv, they can't keep me here if I don't want to be and they know it. Our parents will understand that we're old enough to make this decision, you'll see. We'll convince them. It's go along with this or they lose us, right?"
"As long as they don't bring up the 's' word."
"What 's' word?" she asked.
"We're not siblings, Spike."
"We could have been. If our parents had met sooner, they would have had kids together and that would have been us."
"But they didn't, so we're not." He turned her face toward him and saw him looking at her with that dreamy look in his eyes.
"Isn't that right, little brother?"
He smiled. Sitting up, he asked, "Is it wrong ta fuck yer sister? Cuz if it is, I'm a bad, bad man."
"We are so pervy," she confessed, laughing.
"C'mere, sis, I got a pressie for ya." One finger entered her as his thumb found her clit. "Like that?"
She couldn't even nod. "Spike-" she pleaded.
His hand stopped moving. "Uh uh," he admonished her. "Get bent with me."
Blushing and smiling, she amended, "Brother-" she purred. When his fingers started moving inside her again, she kept up the game.
"God, such a good little brother. Getting his sister off ten times a day." Her eyes closed and her legs spread, giving him better access. She pretended she was the sexy, morally-corrupt older sister Spike wanted her to pretend to be. "Little brother – yeah, right there – be a good boy for me and I won't tell Mommy about those funny cigarettes I found in your drawer the other day."
Spike leaned down to lick a trail across her breast. "Be a good girl for me, sis, and I won't tell Daddy how much you like to suck my cock. Or how hard you come on my face when I go down on you. Speaking of which-"
He crawled around on the bed until his feet were by the headboard and then he lay down next to her. Pulling her onto her side, his mouth closed over her pussy as her face was confronted by his swaying cock.
"Mmmm," she agreed, taking him in as far as she could.
It was hard to concentrate on the erotic feel of wet mouth on the most intimate part of your body when you were preoccupied with the delicious thing you were sucking on. But somehow they managed it.
Wanting to be inside her when he came this time, Spike stopped before Willow wanted to. She pouted and he thought it was adorable so she pouted some more. Until he slid inside and everything but the undeniable rightness of the act fell away.
This is how it was meant to be, no matter how many obstacles they had to overcome to achieve it. Here, together, joined as one. It felt like their whole lives had been leading up to this.
Face to face was good, but – he shifted their positions so that she was on her knees with her face in the mattress. Leaning forward and taking hold of her hands, he entered her again, deeper this time, down as far as he could go.
Her fingers locked with his and she began rocking, in time with his thrusts, and soon sweat was beading across their chests and their knuckles were turning white.
"Yeah, sis," he encouraged, "fuck me, baby. Fuck me back, there ya go." She wanted to scream – she wanted to die. Nothing again would ever feel this magnificent.
He purred in her ear. "Like it when your little brother fills you up with his big cock, don't ya baby?"
Except that. "Spi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ke!" she screamed – literally screamed, with a shrill, siren-like sound. He was right there with her.
Bodies still quaking with after shocks, he flipped her over and took one hard, rosy nipple into his mouth. She moaned and pulled his head closer.
"Like that, baby?" he asked, switching to the other breast. In the last week he'd learned that she loved to be licked and sucked on after they'd made love. His body was ready to throw in the towel, but hers kept going, begging for attention.
And one thing he loved to do was give her attention.
He sucked as hard as he could for a few more seconds before moving down to lick her pussy clean. She practically cooed and curled into a ball on his lap when he did this. He didn't tell her that he loved it even more than she did, it might go to her head. But ever since that first time, when he'd tasted his cum mixed with hers, as proof that she'd let him into her body, he'd been addicted.
He went slow, taking his time, cognizant of the fact that he didn't know when they'd get the chance to be together like this again.
They stayed awake as long as they could. They didn't want it to end. It couldn't end, it wouldn't end. But there was a good chance that the life they had come to make together in the last week was about to come to a screeching halt.
Moonlight, soft moans. Spike rises onto his knees and grabs her hips, sliding her bottom up the incline made by his thighs. He grunts, she gasps, her back arches and sweat drips down both of their bodies, soaking the sheet below them.
A door slam, loud noise on the stairs, bright light. His mom? Mr. Rosenberg?
"You little punk! Get the hell away from my daughter!"
Spike cries out and sits up in the still moonlit room, and Willow turns, waking up at the motion. A warm hand runs gently down his back.
"Spike? You all right, baby?"
A dream. Not real.
"Did you have a bad dream?"
"No," he lies. Everything's all right. She's still here with him. No shocked parents. No murderous father. Just Willow.
"I'm fine, baby," he promises, not wanting to voice his worries to her. Best deal with that when it happens. Nothing they can do about it now.
She kisses away what she is sure is a memory of a bad dream. He kisses her back. Touches her. She runs a hand over his body and it responds to her. Rolling on top of him, she slides him inside of her and for an hour anyway, makes all the bad dreams go away with rocking hips and loving kisses.
Nothing awful happens in their dreams when they fall back to sleep.
At a little after ten, she forces herself to get up and pulls on her underwear and one of his t-shirts. Grabbing her computer and a few books, she heads for the room that is supposed to be hers.
Time for everything to go where it has to be when their parents arrive.
"No," he pleads, but they both know its necessary so he gets up as well. After over an hour and a half, the downstairs is clean and the bathtub has been scrubbed. Both of their beds are made, although her Fozzie Bear pillow and a stuffed grey donkey hide under the pillows and blankets that are neatly arranged. An old pillow of his rests on her bed as a decoy with a pink Barbie pillowcase on it.
The stereo in his room has been playing, keeping up a beat that keeps them moving, no matter how much they want to stop.
He returns the vacuum to the laundry room and walks back up the stairs, listening to her footsteps walking around the room that is supposed to be - but isn't - hers.
An arpeggiated resonator guitar part breaks the short silence between songs.
A lovestruck Romeo sings a streetside serenade
Laying everybody low, with a lovesong that he made
He stops and smiles. Art imitating life or vice versa?
Juliet, the dice were loaded from the start
And I bet and you exploded in my heart
And I forget, I forget the movie song
When you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?
The truth of that would have broken his heart if he hadn't heard her sniffle and realised it was breaking Willow's. Hurrying up the stairs, he took her hand and took her into his arms, turning a heartbreaking moment into a slow dance. The words were poignant, but the hold he had on her kept her strong. This wouldn't happen to them. They wouldn't become a memory.
Come up on different streets, they both were streets of shame
Both dirty, both mean, yes and the dream was just the same
And I dreamed your dream for you and now your dream is real
How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?
He danced her out of her room and into his. Theirs.
When you can fall for chains of silver, you can fall for chains of gold
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold
You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin
Now you just say oh Romeo, yeah you know I used to have a scene with him
"This isn't us, Luv. You know it's not."
Juliet, when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die
There's a place for us, you know the movie song
When you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?
He picked up Eeyore from his hiding place among the blankets and she snuggled her face into the soft fur as they danced on.
I can't do the talk like they talk on tv
And I can't do a love song like the way it's meant to be
I can't do everything but I'd do anything for you
I can't do anything except be in love with you
"Okay, that part's true."
She smiled at him and he smiled back.
And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be
All I do is keep the beat and bad company
All I do is kiss you through the bars of orion
Julie, I'd do the stars with you any time
Juliet, when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die
There's a place for us, you know the movie song
When you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?
The music stopped and they stopped moving.
"Not us," she said, with fake cheer.
The Clash let them know then that London was calling and they separated and finished up.
At noon on the dot, when the front door opened, Willow was sitting on the bottom step near the front door, biting her nails. Spike was near the top, pulling on a torn piece of wallpaper.
Willow played with her brussel sprouts, moving them around on her plate. Anne was still talking about going parasailing for the first time. The entire honeymoon sounded so fun and wonderfully romantic and everything that her father and Anne both deserved.
They were so much in love, they were practically floating. Neither she nor Spike had had the courage to break their good cheer with news that might be, to say the least, upsetting.
Spike suggested, as his mum was clearing the table, that he and Willow vacate the house for a while to visit friends or maybe go to the movies. But Anne had insisted that she had missed them too much during the week away and wanted to spend time with them. As they loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the kitchen, she told them of the exotic Hawaiian sights and then had Willow instruct her on how to print out the pictures they had taken with the digital camera. Willow remembered Spike's words that she had taken his mother's attention away from him and suggested that she have Spike help her instead. But Anne, wanting to be a good mother to her new stepdaughter and make her feel welcome in her new home, insisted that Willow be the one to show her.
Spike, glaring at his mother's back, stormed up the stairs and slammed his door closed. Willow tried again to explain to Anne that her son was just as capable with the printer as Willow herself was, but Anne dismissed it, saying that Spike would be fine; he'd have to get used to having a sister in the house now.
She seemed so anxious for Willow to accept her that Willow didn't have the heart to cut her cold.
When she finally extracted herself from Anne, she tried to go up to talk to Spike but her father caught her for an update about her grades and asked if she had heard back from the counselor at Dartmouth.
After once again reminding him that she had decided on Berkeley, she finally managed to make it up the stairs as the grandfather clock in the hallway struck one o'clock in the morning. She heard Anne and her father locking up the house for the night, so she pretended to be looking for a new book from the bookcase at the top of the stairs. After the parents had bid her goodnight and gone to bed, Willow made for Spike's door, wondering just what she was going to say to make everything all right between them again.
Guilt over not telling their parents and more guilt about taking Anne's attention away from Spike was holding her tongue and preventing her from knocking on the door.
Before she found the courage, the door opened. Spike stood in the doorway, half-smoked cigarette in one hand. Bare-footed and bare-chested, he looked half asleep in his faded Levis. His other hand grasped the top edge of the door, holding it open, waiting for her to enter. Her heart would have beat faster at the sexy image he presented, if not for the red-rimmed eyes that made her heart break for him instead. As she walked inside, she knew apologies would not be necessary.
No words at all were needed that night.
Exams and graduation came too fast after that and they didn't have enough time to miss not having any time alone.
Graduation night dinner was a long, planned out affair with friends and relatives of Spike, Willow and their friends.
As she was getting dressed for the festivities, she found a note in her graduation cap:
Meet me at the hotel by the bus station.
They'd promised their parents they'd be home by one; they didn't make it. It was quarter past three when they snuck inside. It had been a long, glorious evening - filled with passion and fueled by love.
He'd undressed her slowly, as if this were the first time for both of them. Pulled the pins holding her hair up and unzipped her dress.
Made love to her in the bed and in the shower and while sitting in an oversized chair by the window.
In a little over two months, they'd turn eighteen and they were determined to confront their parents with the truth on his - three days after hers - birthday. They would both be adults then and could leave if they needed to.
They didn't need to.
They counted the days. Crossed off the numbers on a big calendar in Willow's room - the room that wasn't really hers because she still slept in Spike's room. Every morning at 5:30, the alarm would go off quietly and every morning she would reluctantly rise and go to her room and wait for Anne to come wake her upS .
They snuck around, being very careful not to get caught, not to make any mistakes that would give their secret away.
Things got better. They got into a routine of one big, happy family and the summer break went smoothly for everyone. Willow, not long after Anne's return, gave her stepmother some well-placed hints that her son was feeling neglected at times by his mother and so Anne took pains to make sure William was always included. No more favouring the daughter over the son.
One day before her eighteenth birthday, Anne asked Willow to help her cook for a picnic in the park she was planning as a going away party. In four days, Willow and Spike were leaving for Berkeley.
While Willow was stirring the potato salad, Spike came in to ask if they needed any help. His mother assured him they were fine and sent him out of the kitchen.
Willow watched him go.
"You love him very much, don't you?"
Willow didn't know what to say, so she concentrated on the potato salad instead.
"I'm not stupid, Willow," she told her gently, "and neither is your father. We know what's been going on. We just…"
Willow stopped stirring and looked at Anne.
"You're old enough to make your own decisions. We don't want to lose you - either of you. If this is what it takes, then we'll deal with it. We, well, we have been dealing with it. It's been ever since the wedding, hasn't it?"
Willow just nodded.
Anne actually smiled. "Ira and I could tell something was… different as soon as we came home. I thought your father was going to kill William, but I reminded him that it takes two to tango. I just want - I know Will switched to Berkeley so you could be together and I just want you to know that you'll always have a home here - both of you. Your father and I just want you both to be happy."
Willow had tears in her eyes and she moved to Anne and hugged her.
Anne's returned hug and loving voice answered her. "We love you both so much."
Spike sensed Willow's crying and came back to make sure she was all right. The women pulled him into the hug and, even without knowing what it was about, felt the warmth and the love radiating through the action.
"She knows, Spike," Willow informed after they'd broken apart.
"Does he?" Spike asked anxiously, waiting for Ira to come out and jump him before slowly torturing him to death.
Ann fielded that question. "Yes, he does - and while he isn't crazy about the situation, we've been watching you all summer and the love you have for each other is so obvious, his objections flew right out the window."
Spike gave that look she was sure meant he knew she was lying. Anne clarified, "Oh all right, I helped him get there but he is genuinely… ambivalent… about the situation right now."
Spike laughed and Willow soon followed. "I guess that's better than beating me to death with a shovel, like Willow said he might."
For propriety's sake, they still kept up the pretext of Willow going to sleep in her own room. But once the 'rents were asleep, passion ruled in Spike's bedroom.
Something about letting their secret go made every experience that much more powerful. They were free. They were accepted. Neither of them would admit it, but keeping something this huge from the parents they loved had kept them from feeling as if their relationship were real somehow.
But it was real now. And no one was dead, always a plus in Spike's book.
And in a few more days, no more sneaking around in the middle of the night. In a few more days, they'd be moving to Berkeley, away from the past and toward a future that was as filled with promise as their feelings for each other.
And sex - lots and lots of naughty pseudo-sibling sex. When you're bent, its nice to have someone bent in just the same way.