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Stolen Sanctuary
by Kereia
EMail: dpe115@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
Content: B/L, PWP no more, no less
Summary: After Sactuary two lonely people meet in a club.
Disclaimer: Not mine; Joss'
Spoilers: Up to 'Sanctuary', including all Buffy eps.
Distribution: Ask, I'm easy. :-)
Author's Note: Thanks to Lar for beta reading. And Jenn for getting on my nerves until I posted the damn thing. :-) Love you girls.
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The music inside the club was, as always, dark, slow and sensual. The walls were painted in a warm, intimate brown, so dark that it almost looked like black velvet in the shady light that reflected of glittering dresses, sparkled on the rim of crystal glasses and shimmered on the polished surface of the reflecting bar. The atmosphere was cozy, the perfect place to forget what he had done today. What he did every day.
Lindsey McDonald took another sip of his cool beer and leaned back deeper into the small niche that was situated along the wall, just opposite the club's entrance. His face was hidden in the shadows, making him invisible to the other people in the room. That's the way he wanted it. His job brought him too much attention. He was under constant surveillance, either by one of the senior partners or one of his colleagues. All of them were waiting for him to fail; like coiled snakes they watched his every move, trying to anticipate the moment when the slightest mistake, the merest inattentiveness, would result in a mistake that would cost him his head. Literally. Wolfram & Hart was not the kind of law firm that displayed lenience when one of its employees endangered their objectives.
When the pressure became too much, when he knew that today had been a close call ... that's when he came here. He knew now that hiring the Slayer to kill Angel had been a mistake. He had been unprepared, had not done his homework as thoroughly as he should have. A carelessness that could have fatal consequences in his position. The situation had gotten out of hand ... escalated ... and he had to take the blame and responsibility for the failure. Closing his eyes, Lindsey leaned his head against the wall behind him. He let the music, the beat and rhythm wash over him. His usual business suit had been replaced by casual light gray pants and a white linen shirt. The outfit was not as uptight as the suit, but still showed who he was. A young, sophisticated man, with a six digit salary. It was a facade, he knew that. A facade he had been trying to uphold ever since Wolfram & Hart had offered him a place. They had financed a large part of his college education, supplying him with an apartment, a car and appropriate clothing. All for the firm. All for the wealth and power. All for the price of his soul.
His conscience had been beaten down and locked away sometime during his life. It rarely showed itself to him these days. And when it did, Lindsay knew how to suppress the little voice in the back of his mind. He had become an expert in repression and denial. It's what kept him working. It's what kept the money flowing onto his account. It's what kept him alive and moderately sane.
Slowly he relaxed, sinking deeper into the seat. His eyes opened slightly and he peered at the dancing people that crowded the center of the club. A small blond girl caught his interest. Her hair was sparkling, the low illumination creating highlights on the golden strands. Her tanned skin was covered with a fine sheen of perspiration. Three men were gyrating around her, trying to attract her attention. The blond gave all of them teasing smiles and looked at them through half closed eyelids and continued to move her hips in small circles, apparently captured by the slow sensual rhythm echoing through the room. Her short black skirt barely covered her thighs and her stomach was exposed thanks to the midriff baring top she was wearing. Her lips were painted a dark red while her sea green eyes were shadowed by long lashes. Lindsey had to admit that she was breathtaking.
Without even realizing it he had stood up and walked to the edge of the dance floor, watching with fascination as this small blond vixen drove the men around her crazy. Her moves were breathtakingly intimate, arousing the men with every roll of her hips, every seductive smile of her luscious lips. Too lost in their own pathetic fantasies neither of them saw what Lindsay did: the deep, dark shadows in her eyes. The almost unnoticeable hard line around her soft mouth. Underneath the tempting seductress was a girl hidden. A girl that was hurting. A girl that was trying to forget ... just like he was.
Slowly he made his way over to her. Ignoring the annoyed and irritated stares from the men around him, he broke through the invisible circle they had formed. His left hand sneaked around her wrist and he pulled her flush against his muscular chest. Her eyes flew up to him in surprise, and for a second he saw anger flash across her features. Her small hands lowered themselves from above her head to his shoulders as if she was about to shove him away. Then ... their eyes met and held. Lindsey knew that she recognized the look in his eyes as the same that was haunting her in the mirror every time she looked at her own reflection. Slowly a look of understanding replaced the dark expression on her face and she surrendered to his arms, sinking against him to rest her head on his shoulder.
Without a word, Lindsey wrapped his other arm around her slim waist, pulling her closer. They swayed to the music, each one of them lost in their own thoughts. When the song came to an end, the girl leaned her head back and looked up at him. He immediately felt himself drawn into the thunderstorm of her eyes. They stood like this for an eternity, not even realizing that a new song had picked up where the other had left off. A silent agreement was forming between them in the darkness of the dance club, an agreement that neither one of them would ever speak of once the morning sun would crest the horizon. An agreement that would let them forget their lives for the remaining hours of the night and give both of them a piece of the salvation and sanctuary they both hungered for.
They eventually left the club, her hand safely tucked into his. The walk to his apartment was short and spent in silence.
***********
The door is opened. Two shadows walk into the darkness of a state-of-the-art living room. A key falls to the ground as the shadows draw closer. Hands touch. Strong arms encircle the slim waist of a girl. Bodies press against each other as lips meet in the first of many kisses. A small moan escapes a male throat when a warm, wet tongue brushes against his lips. With growing, insatiable hunger his mouth is explored, arousing him beyond rational though. His mind shuts down. His arms pull her closer against his warm body, seeking to melt into her ... to lose himself in the sweet oblivion her touch promises.
Legs wrap around his waist. Her mound rubbing against the reaction, straining against the material of the soft linen of his pants. A groan wrenches itself from deep in his throat. His hands move to the swell of her buttocks, pressing her harder against him as his tongue invades her mouth. This time it is her small, breathy moan that fills the apartment. With two steps he had her pinned between himself and the wall, his hands free to roam and explore the silky skin underneath her top. His fingertips barely graze her back, pushing the material of her shirt upwards until it is caught under the soft globes of her breasts. Their lips part and he trails kisses to her ear, his tongue invading the small shell.
His reward is a breathy sigh, almost inaudible against the moan escaping his own throat when her hands leave his hair, brush over his shoulders down to his chest where her fingertips rub the material of his shirt over his flat male nipples. She arches against him, ripping the shirt over his head in the space of a heart beat. Their lips meet again, their hunger overwhelming both of them. Her small hands brush over the muscles of his chest, her fingernail scratching lightly over the tender skin. Her tank top in discarded on the floor next to his own clothing.
Her hands find the fly of his jeans and open them without hesitation. He lets her slide lower, granting her better access to his body as her hand disappears inside the linen. A sharp hiss is the only sound his lust and desire-filled mind can emit when her hands gently wrap around his aching manhood. A low feminine chuckle penetrates the passion filled haze that clouds his brain and his lips crush hers in a hard, demanding kiss. She reciprocates, her hands still caressing his erect shaft as their tongues playfully battle for dominance.
Then she unwraps herself from around him, her feet coming back onto the floor. He watched quietly as she bends down and slides her panties down her thighs, letting them pool on the hardwood floor. Their eyes meet and she steps back against his body, grasping the top of his pants. While the blond goddess in front off him pushes his pants down his legs, his hands reach behind him until he finds the drawer he is looking for. He opens it only a fraction, retrieving a small plastic item, wrapped in silver foil. She becomes aware of the move and watches curiously when he rips the package open to extract the condom. Smiling in understanding, a look of gratitude and mischief illuminates her face. She takes the thin plastic away from and gives him a small kiss on the nose.
Winking she falls to her knees and places the condom over tip of his cock. He can do nothing but watch in amazement as she rolls it down, placing another kiss on his manhood once she is done. She moves back into his arms, her face raised to meet his lips. Mouths engage. Tongues battle when her legs wrap around his waist again. He pushes her up against the wall, positioning himself at her wet core, before breaking the kiss. His eyes search hers for reassurance, confirmation ... the very things he has searched for in hundreds of other eyes. His father's, his mother's, his siblings', his mentors' and teachers', the women he had taken to his bed. But tonight, in the darkness of his apartment, in the embrace of a young woman he has never seen before, he found those things ... and more. Her eyes reflected the soul that was still inside of him, buried by the facade of apathy and ambition that dominate his life.
Their eyes lock as he pushes inside of her, feeling the warm, moist tightness of her core settle around him. Her lips part as a small gasp escapes her lips when he fills her, stretching her to the limit. They move slowly at first, enjoying the sensation sweeping over them. Their mouths meet in another passionate kiss, the rhythm that enslaves them forcing them to move faster, harder. Small moans and cries of pleasure echo through the otherwise deathly quiet apartment as he continues to thrust in and out of her. He can feel the pressure building and grips her buttocks, angling her so his pelvic bones crushes her clit every time he plunges inside her tight channel. She gasps in ecstasy, her fingernails digging deep into his shoulders as her orgasm rushes towards her with blinding speed. Higher and higher they move before she flies over the edge, a hoarse scream tearing from her throat. Her inner walls vibrate against him, gripping his shaft tightly. Soon he follows her over the edge, his face buried in the crook of her neck.
Gasping, they ride their climax, holding each other close, basking in the heat they created. When they calm down he leans back to look into her eyes, half expecting to see shame and regret in them. Instead, she meets his questioning gaze openly and unafraid, a small smile curving her soft lips. He presses a small tender kiss to her mouth and carries her across the floor to the bathroom, still sheathed deep inside of her. Inside they part and he discards the condom before joining her in the shower. They bathe each other, their hands still exploring, their lips stealing kisses that will be remembered but hidden from their lives once the sun rises.
After moving into the bedroom, they come together again ... and again before exhaustion claims them. They fall asleep in each others arms, the peace and contentment they feel carrying over into their dreams, sparing them the demonic nightmares that usually torment their minds and souls.
************
The sun was already sending her first warming rays onto the City of Angels when Buffy Summers woke up. Smiling she cuddled against the warm body behind her, remembering the passion that had driven the memory of Angel's hurtful words and her own guilt because of the truthfulness in them from her mind. She sighed with regret when she extracted herself from the strong arms that held her loosely around the waist.
After picking her clothes up form the tiles in the bathroom and the wooden floor of the living room, she got dressed. She stood in the doorway, her gaze traveling over his nude form on the bed for a long time. Her body was aching deliciously, and despite the fact that Riley was waiting for her in Sunnydale she did not feel guilt or regret invading her mind. She did not know who this man was, but she had seen the pain and self-recrimination in his eyes, reminding her so much of herself and what she was feeling. She would speak of what had happened here tonight to no one and carry the memory inside her heart. A passionate secret that was never to be revealed to anyone, ever.
Smiling, Buffy walked out of the apartment, enjoying the sunlight on her face. She resisted the urge to look at the engraved plate beside the door that held the name of her lover and walked down the hall, leaving the penthouse and the still sleeping man behind her. She had to go back to Sunnydale.
End
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