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The Deal, part 2 By
Tango EMAIL:
tangofic@hotmail.com For my evil twin, indie, who I love dearly. This fic would never have been finished if it weren’t for you. Happy, HAPPY birthday! *** Angelus waited for Buffy to leave the room, then walked out the door to the bedroom across the hall without bothering to put on a stitch of clothing. Walking awkwardly because of the raging hard on that stood out from his body, he walked into the room and shut the door behind him. Gwen, one of his many lovers, lay on the bed fully dressed – or as dressed as Gwen got, which consisted of a red leather halter top and tight black leather pants. “Fuck,” he hissed, “I said *naked*, Gwen. Naked.” He was so hard he thought he might explode any second. He had planned this to perfection - arouse and tease Buffy until she couldn’t take it anymore and leaving her wanting. The problem was that he knew ahead of time how much he’d want her, how hard she make him, how much control he didn’t have when it came to Buffy Summers. So he had backup. He arranged for Gwen to be waiting to appease his need – his desperate, mind blowing, near insane-like need. Only she was supposed to be naked. He said fucking naked and there she was dressed like they were going out on the town and it was just after eight o’clock in the godamn morning. “Ah, but you bought the blonde goody two shoes, not me,” she said, grinning widely at his urgency. “Besides, I managed to get here this early in the morning for you.” “You haven’t been to bed yet,” he guessed, knowing it was true. “Mmmmm no,” she sighed, stretching like a sexy little cat and rubbing her hands over her body. “I had the most wonderful night and now I just need a good hard fuck and all will be right with the world.” “If you take off your clothes, I’ll fuck you,” he growled through gritted teeth and crawling onto the bed. Impatiently, he leaned over and yanked open the bedside table’s drawer and pulled out a condom, which caused Gwen to erupt in a bark of laughter. “A condom with me, Angelus?” she rolled over in bed and nearly choked on her own amusement. “The little piece you haven’t had yet is already controlling you. God, I can’t wait to tell all my friends that the bitch has you on a leash.” He yanked open her pants, shimming them down just enough so that he could reach between her thighs. He rubbed her, roughly manipulating the venerable flesh there. She crooned but still chuckled, moving her hips with his fingers. “You’re dreaming if you think she’ll just fall all over you and admit that she’s adored you from afar, that she’s worshipped you like you’ve worshipped her,” Gwen whispered huskily, voicing her insults in a bedroom voice. “Shut up and fuck me,” he snarled. Her answer was another bark of laughter. The only thing better than fucking Angelus was torturing him. *** Buffy didn’t waste any time getting out of the mansion as quickly as possible. She hopped into her beat up Jeep Cherokee and flipped down the visor to look into the mirror. Her plump lips, her flushed face and her mussed, half dried hair were all clear indicators of just getting out of bed with a lover. She shuddered. Angelus was everything she had feared. Sexy and talented, he knew exactly what to do to get her blood pumping. He had touched her expertly and she had lost herself in him. She cursed, flipped up the visor and started the car. It made the same sick, whining sound that it always did, but rumbled to life just the same. As she made her way down the long drive that led away his home, she felt her stomach flip flop inside her. She had thrown herself into the act with him, melting into his arms like he was some dream lover. She had done, she was sure, exactly what he had wanted her to do. The point of this morning’s session was to prove something - to prove that she could be his and he had made his point. She was still aroused, still trembling with need and she was sure that bastard was gloating now that she was running away like a scared little rabbit. Turning all of her feelings into the only safe emotion she could think of – anger – she headed back home. She needed another shower. *** Angelus hadn’t lied to Buffy about there being a meeting that morning. He had several meetings that morning, but none of them had been as early as he had made it seem – unless you counted screwing Gwen as a meeting. He found that conquering the woman he had worshiped for so long had given him an extra lining of ruthlessness in his business dealings. He had utterly wiped the floor with the company he had been trying to acquire. They had started out the meeting intending cost him more and keep more controlling power, but by the end of the meeting, they had given up almost every clause they had tried to write into the contract. He was pleased. He was more than pleased. He was positively glowing with power. Buffy Summers was all that he had ever wanted. She was intelligent and beautiful, but he had been with dozens of intelligent and beautiful women. There was something about her, a fire, a spark, a blaze of personality and wit that made every other woman disappear in her shadow. The mere idea that she could be in love with Riley Finn was preposterous. Angelus had done his homework. He knew that Finn was a ranking officer in the military and that he worked full time on the base on the outskirts of Sunnydale – the base that wasn’t supposed to exist. He wasn’t wealthy, but he had a nice chunk of savings, which could have helped Buffy if she had chosen to tell him just how bad her money problems were, but she hadn’t. That had been one of the first clues that told him Buffy wasn’t truly in love with Finn. Following a round of reports from the private investigator he had put on Riley’s tail, he found that there was more trouble in paradise than he could have hoped. “Angel,” Harmony said, coming into his office with a cup of coffee and teetering on her Pepto Bismol colored high heels. She was probably one of the few beautiful women in his employ that he hadn’t bothered to sleep with. Harmony was more of a buzzing pest than a temptress. He tired of her before he even bothered to try to get into her pants. “Buffy Summers called and said she didn’t need the rental truck today.” “Yes, she does,” he said with a small satisfactory smile. He had been wondering how long it was going to take her to figure out that she wouldn’t need a rental truck, since she had no intention of moving all of her furniture to his house. “Well, she said she didn’t,” she said, setting his cup down and brushing a lock of blonde hair from her shoulder. “Don’t cancel the truck,” he said, barely looking up from the reports he was flipping through. “Okay, boss, but if she calls back, I’m transferring her to you.” “That’s fine,” he answered without a hint of irritation. Most days Harmony could try the patience of a saint, but today, nothing would bother him. She stood looming over his desk and he looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Was there something else?” “You didn’t even thank me for the coffee,” she said, “and you know, I’ve been due for a raise-“ “Shut the door on your way out,” he said, looking back down at the monthly financials from the accounting department. “Fine,” she huffed and marched out the door. He grinned. Things were starting to look up. *** By the time Buffy had gotten out of her second shower of the day, she felt better, determined. She planned out her day methodically, losing her self in the minutiae. She took her Jeep to the shop and dropped it off. For the first time in her life, she was going to be able to get everything fixed and wouldn’t have to worry about how much it cost. While thinking about that incredible fact, she dug her wallet out of her purse and sat in her economy rental car calling her credit cards. She was stunned to find that all of her balances had been cleared. How the hell could he have possibly done that? She sat for a moment and then stared at her cell phone. It had been turned off a week ago, but it was back on now. She took a deep breath and then expelled it shakily. He knew things and had done things that he shouldn’t have known, shouldn’t have had access to and they were just beginning. What would happen when he got to know her better, when he found out things about her personality and her life? The little piece of happiness that she felt about all of her problems being solved was slowing gelling into a solid piece of fear in the pit of her stomach. Hands shaking, she put the car into drive and turned on the radio. She had to focus on her tasks for the day. Even as she tried to pretend that this would be sex and nothing more, she knew better. The fear settling inside her grew heavier as she headed for the gallery. When she arrived, Anya Jenkins, her only employee, was faithfully carrying out her morning tasks. Buffy had been forced to fire her other two part time employees six months ago. Paying Anya at all had been a shaky enterprise, but even when her paychecks had bounced twice, Anya hadn’t been late even once. Since Anya was the most money-coveting creature she had ever known, she was still trying to figure out why she hadn’t quit. When Buffy had asked her, she simply shrugged and said that she had a place there. Buffy went directly to her office and wrote out a $500 bonus check for Anya and figured out a five percent raise. Tapping the pen against her lips absently, she began a new budget, figuring in her new money. She would need her other employees back and she would need to start planning so that at the end of the year, when Angelus’ money ran dry, she wouldn’t be in the same predicament again. She spent the rest of her morning figuring out how to use her new situation to the best of her advantage. *** By seven p.m. that evening, Buffy was exhausted. She had fought with Riley over lunch and then again later that afternoon when he had shown up at her house while she was packing. He didn’t believe she was even attracted to Angelus, let alone in love with him as she had claimed. It wasn’t a great addition to an already complicated day. Then when the moving truck arrived, she spent twenty minutes on the phone, arguing with Angelus and trying to bar the way of the two huge men from the moving company. She had no intention of moving every single thing in her house to the mansion, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He wanted not some, but all of her possessions with him, as if he thought she was going to stay. She hadn’t even packed everything, but the movers didn’t seem to have a problem with that. In fact, they seemed to have anticipated it. They carried drawers full of clothes, brought out a load of boxes from the truck and packed what couldn’t be easily moved without them. After trying everything she could think of to get them to stop, she finally just sat down and scowled as they handled her belongings and touched her things. She was so frustrated by her entire house being emptied – even the basement was cleared of every single item – that she left the movers to their job and went shopping to find the most hideous dress possible for her date that evening. She had no intention of giving in to each and every one of Angelus’ desires no matter how much he bullied her. She might have sold her body, but by gods, she was her own person and she made her own damn decisions. *** Angelus had to keep himself from laughing as she entered his home that evening. As if wanting revenge, Buffy had tried to look as homely as possible for her date that evening. She could not have chosen a more unbecoming dress to cover her delectable body with. She didn’t seem to understand that he would find her beautiful no matter what she wore – or didn’t wear. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, severe bun and wore no make up. The dress she had chosen was bulky and frumpy, had long sleeves, a high neck and looked as if it had been sewn from wire. It was absolutely hideous and Angelus was certain that it was a new purchase just for him. She certainly did give her appearance her level best. He grinned. He already knew just how stubborn she could be – he had studied everything about her for years. “Did you think if you came here dressed like my grandmother, I would be less likely to fuck you?” he asked, smirking at her from his leather armchair. He sipped a glass of high dollar whiskey as he took his time not admiring her choice of wardrobe. “You said to wear a dress,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. “This is a dress.” “It’s a suit of armor made,” he chuckled, “but you forget, lover, I’ve already seen what you have to offer. I know the expression on your face just before you come. I know the feel of you from the inside. So let’s dispense with the bullshit.” He rose from his chair and set down his drink on the table by his chair. He stalked sensually rather than just walking toward her, he moved like a man who was about to eat her alive. He circled her and she fought not to turn with him, to keep her eyes on him. She did not trust him and at the same time found a tiny spark inside her, wanting him. She felt his hands on her back in the small space of skin that the dress left bare just beneath her neck. His hands were large and warm. He radiated lascivious vibrations, as if the desire couldn’t just be contained in his large, hard body. She felt his hot breath against her throat just before he placed a string of wet kisses there. Without warning, she felt the back of her dress rip open and she gasped as Angelus tore it from zipper to hem. His hands glided their way down her back, making her shiver. His breath caressed her neck as he leaned in again, rubbing his lips just behind her ear. “You’ll dress like the beautiful woman you are for me, Buffy, or every piece of clothing you wear will be ripped from your pretty little body no matter where we happen to be,” he said huskily. He walked around her, letting his hands glide over the rough material still hanging from her arms. As roughly as he torn it from behind, he did the opposite from the front, removing it from her body gently. She tried to look away from him but finally met his eyes and was surprised by the amount of heat held inside them. His eyes just weren’t brown. They were alive and liquid, like melting chocolate. They, like the rest of him, were dangerous and exciting at the same time. His full sensual lips curved into a knowing smile as he slid the abhorred garment from her. She waited for him to say something about the plain bra and panties she had worn deliberately to annoy him or for him to tear them from her body as he had done with the dress but he didn’t. He allowed himself one very slow, very deliberate sweep of her half naked body before walking to the fireplace and tossing the dress into the flames. “There’s appropriate attire waiting for you in the bathroom,” he said, crossing the room to reclaim his drink. “Well, I love to be predictable,” she scowled, turning on her heel in her underwear and going toward the door. “You couldn’t be more predictable, lover. In fact, I’ll tell your future. You’ll find some way to treat me with disrespect or cause me embarrassment tonight and I’ll be forced to deal you back a similar blow. Maybe you’d like every man, woman and child in this town to know you sold yourself to me. That way, when I’m done with you, you can carry on your new career. I’m sure there are other men who would be willing to taste your wares when I’m done with you.” “You’re a disgusting pig,” she snapped, facing the door so that he couldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes. “I made the offer, Buffy, but you sold yourself. You can’t blame me for what you’ll become.” With that, he tossed back his drink and strolled over to make himself another. “If you require my assistance, I’ll be glad to go through your belongings and burn every single item I find undesirable.” “You don’t own me, Angelus,” she snarled. “Oh, but I do,” he said, laughing so coldly, it cause a shiver to dance down her spine. “Every day for the next year, you will find out just how much.” *** Inside Angelus’ sleek, black Mercedes, the leather seats were cool against her bare skin – of which, there was quite a bit. The dress that he had picked out for her was almost a classic little black dress. It was elegant and just from the touch of the silk, she knew without looking that it had a designer label and a designer price tag to go with it. It was just slightly too short, just slightly too tight and just slightly too low cut to be anything from off the rack – or anything in her closet for that matter. They drove in silence, and with the exception of one of his large hands straying down her thigh now and then, it was almost peaceful. When they arrived at the only four-star restaurant in Sunnydale, she wasn’t at all surprised. The car was valet parked and from the way the valets hurried to open Angelus’ door and hers, they knew him well. “Hey!” a voice roared, just as they climbed out of the car. Buffy knew the voice and felt her heart sink. She turned and watched as Riley jogged toward them, an expression of mingled determination and anger on his handsome face. Guilt replaced the apprehension she had been feeling. She didn’t bother glancing at Angelus. She kept her eyes on Riley, the sweet, loving man who had been her boyfriend and lover for two years. She ached with memories of nights with him, his arms holding her, his voice whispering words of love and devotion in her ears. Her eyes started to fill when she thought that she would never have that again. Once she had given herself to Angelus and had stayed with him for a year, she was sure that any innocence, any ability to go back to Riley would have disappeared. Not only because he would never forgive her, but because she would never forgive herself. It only took moments for Riley to catch up to them and Buffy finally snuck a glance over to Angelus. He had a very cold, triumphant smile on his face. She shuddered. He was enjoying this. “Riley Finn,” Angelus said, still smiling. “Buffy,” Riley said, completely ignoring Angelus, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know that you love me. Whatever you’ve done with him, I forgive you.” His eyes were filled with sadness and his voice had a pleading edge that she had never heard in him before. Even when he pleaded his case earlier that day, he hadn’t been filled with the sort of desperation that was radiating from him now. It was as if the loss had finally set in. “I’m sorry, Riley,” she said, choking out the words with a whisper. It was taking everything she had not to cry. She did love Riley and she had never been so disgusted with herself in her life than in that moment. The guilt filling her was almost more than she could stand. “Buffy, just give me another chance. Give *us* another chance. Please.” Riley Finn looked at her with desperation, with true love, and for a big marine and an alpha male, he was dangerously close to dropping to his knees and begging. She opened her mouth without even knowing what was about to come out of it, but Angelus chose that moment to speak. “Lover, go inside and get our table,” Angelus murmured in a voice that showed intimacy that they didn’t have. He slid his hand down her nearly bare back in a very possessive gesture. He nuzzled her neck before leaving a kiss there. “I’ll take care of this.” “Riley,” she said, hesitating. “It’s okay, Buffy,” Angelus said in a voice that was gentle, almost kind. She snapped her eyes to him in surprise. “Buffy please,” Riley begged, throwing his pride to the wind. “Go on,” Angelus said, nudging her away. He allowed his hand to trail over her back until she moved toward the door. With an obvious amount of reluctance, she went inside, looking over her shoulder until she disappeared through the restaurant’s front door. When she disappeared finally, he gave his entire attention to Riley. The gentle expression in his eyes was gone by the time he met Riley’s glare. The cold smile that reappeared on his face had none of the gentleness the words he had just spoken to Buffy displayed. Angelus watched the desperation on Riley’s face turn to rage. Angelus knew that if some other man had touched her that way it would send him over the edge. He had spent years watching her waste her time with Riley. He knew the feeling and it was elating to turn the tables. “You lost. She’s mine now,” Angelus said calmly. “You don’t need to humiliate yourself, Finn.” “You son of a bitch,” Riley roared, releasing a swing that had the precision that betrayed his military training. Had Angelus not being studying martial arts for over ten years, he might have gotten his jaw broken, but instead, he parried the blow and caught Riley’s arm, twisting it up sharply at an odd angle, which locked the joint and left Riley bent over and panting madly, unable to move. “If you want me to break your arm, keep trying to move,” Angelus said to his struggling competition. “I can easily lead you around like a dog on a leash like this even after I’ve snapped at least two bones.” “You twisted freak,” Riley ground out, but keeping still. “I don’t care what Buffy said, she doesn’t love you, she loves me.” “If she loves you so much, then why is she with me?” Angelus asked. “You tricked her,” Riley ground out, his face turning redder the longer he was bent in half before a man he hated more than he thought possible. In his peripheral vision, he could see a crowd of valets looking at them with alarm. They seemed to be unable to decide if they should do something to interfere or not. Riley gritted his teeth. Angelus’ had too much money to be stopped. “She has such a hot little body,” Angelus purred into his ear, “nice and…tight.” Riley began to buck and fight again with the honeyed words, but Angelus held him tight, twisting his arm a little harder to get him to stop moving. “Later on tonight, I’ll have her bent over just like this…maybe in my bed…maybe over the kitchen table…maybe…” “SHUT UP!” Riley swore. “I’ll fucking kill you, Roarke.” “Yeah, you’re a real threat,” Angelus said, laughing. “She’ll figure out what a monster you are and she’ll leave you,” Riley swore. “She’ll come back to me.” “Will she?” Angelus said, smile fading, voice lowered to an iced threat, “Buffy belongs to me. Whatever you think you had with her is over. If I find out you’ve approached her or tried to contact her in anyway…” With a snap, Riley’s arm broke at the elbow and he cried out, as he fell and landed on one knee. Without another syllable, Angelus turned to stroll toward the restaurant. Riley scrambled to his feet, one arm hanging limp and useless at his side, and ran toward Angelus. He had seconds to take his revenge and turning your back on your enemy is always a mistake – unless, of course, there’s a group of young, red-coated valets watching. Angelus saw the looks of surprise on a few of their faces and turned just in time to kick Riley in the face with an artful crescent kick. Riley hit the ground hard, his head cracking against the pavement and was still. “You might want to call an ambulance,” Angelus said, handing over a tip to the nearest valet. “Yes sir,” the boy said, running inside. Home - Navigation - Affiliates - Random - Fanfiction - Links - Updates - About
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