Phantom Dennis was a backstabbing bastard. The fact that Dawn Summers was sitting on his chest, wearing bits of fabric that should have added up to a dress but didn't was the final proof.
"You bloody wanker!" Spike said, throwing his other pillow at the closing door. "And are you trying to get me killed? Between your sister, Connor and Big Blue, basically I should just kiss my bollocks good-bye."
"You," Dawn said, her forefinger pushing into his sternum with surprising power, "kissed me!" And then her hand, all five fingers, moved softly over his chest. Spike groaned.
"We'd just narrowly missed dying, there was lager, these sorts of things happen," Spike said.
Dawn's eyes narrowed. "They totally do not. You didn't kiss Connor or Illyria or Wendell!" She went back to poking his sternum. What was it with him and violent Summers women?
He should have stuck with Joyce. Well-behaved, and she knew how to brew a proper cuppa. "Well, it was a mistake. For fuck's sake, girl, I'm old enough to be your sodding great-grandfather. I look old enough to be your dad. It's bad, bad creepy wrongness," he said earnesly, and oh, hell, he was talking like her.
"Oh, please," Dawn rolled her eyes. "I've seen people's heads explode, Sn'ri birthing rituals and oh, yeah, had a GOD try to sacrifice me when I was fifteen. My life has not been much with the sheltering. Stop trying to spare me! You. Kissed. Me."
Spike wriggled up into a sitting position, and, oh shit, a world of bad ideas there, as little Miss Bitty Titty was now straddling his lap and he was very, very naked under the covers. "Look, it was dumb and wrong. I had a pint too much and you are a pretty, pretty little niblet but ..." and Dawn was leaning into him, kissing him with a wide, wet mouth, all tongue and fierce predation.
If she'd been a vamp he'd have been turned from that kiss alone, it was so goddamn hungry.
"I'm twenty-two," Dawn said finally, against his wet mouth, her body pressing down in all the right ways on all the bad, wrong places. "I haven't been a virgin since I was seventeen. I'm a grown-up, legally. And I like you. I more than like you, in all the right ways. I want you, in all the very best ways. Now stop being an old woman and put out. We had our first date when I was fifteen and you, as far as I'm concerned, are a cunt-tease. "
Spike sighed and buried his face in her shoulder. "I'm trying to be the good guy here, Little Bit."
"I bet you could be great," Dawn whispered. "And you love me, don't you?"
Spike lifted his head, and her eyes were so very wide and dark, all pupil. And they were frightened, too, and Dawn had never really been scared of him before. He couldn't bloody well bear that she be scared now. "Yeah, all right. I do," he said at last, mouthing it against the bared skin of her shoulder. And he did, God help him, but he did.
"Well, then?" she said, and she rolled her hips sweetly against him, shifting the covers until he was pressed against the warm damp of her panties. So Spike took her face between his hands, breathed softly over he eyes, her temples and her lips, and then he kissed her for the second time.