One week passed.
Giles’s car was parked at the top of a rocky bluff, snugged up against the matte grey roadside barrier, a shock of red against the washed-out blue of the evening sky and the dense charcoal black of the rocks. The surf was wild, and wind-whipped, capped with foam and roaring against the small strip of sand. They were huddled together on a blanket, her back to his chest, his arms around her, and her arms crossed over her own chest against the chilly breeze. It was nice, though. The cold wind was something they could shelter each other from, made the warmth of their bodies that much more attractive.
His chin was resting on her shoulder, his face turned slightly into her neck, and his nose was brushing her jaw. It was cold, like a puppy’s.
They’d made love earlier, after feeding each other a picnic dinner of fruit, crackers and cheese, and a bottle of wine. She’d always figured that sex on a beach would turn out to be much more romantic in theory than in practice, but it had surprised her. With the cool sand shifting under the blanket under her back, the howl of the wind, and the pounding crash of the waves, it had all been so primal, so powerful. It was like they were connected to the earth, moving with some universal rhythm, and like the forces of the earth were moving in time with them, as well.
She shivered, remembering, and Giles pulled her a little closer, maybe mistaking it for a chill... or maybe knowing exactly what she was thinking. He nuzzled her with his cold nose and pursed his lips against her throat, a quick, glancing kiss. She rolled her head back onto his shoulder and looked up at the darkening sky.
“Are you sure you really have to go? Can’t you just call them?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile.
“I wish I could. But I’m afraid this is my best hope for getting the Council to speak with me at all.”
She sighed. She knew. And the whole Glory thing was more important than her sex life. But... but...
“This stinks. A lot,” she said.
He licked her neck, and she squirmed and giggled.
“Giles!”
He just moved on to nibbling the shell of her ear. She sighed again, happily this time, and let the issue go. So, he’d be off to England tomorrow. Wasn’t permanent. He’d be back. And then they could do this all they wanted, provided they could continue to find good excuses for slipping away from the rest of the group for a couple hours. His hand moved to her breast, squeezing gently. She turned her head towards him, and they kissed, deeply and slowly. The wind whipped her hair around their face and into their mouths, but they just laughed and kept kissing.
She felt the words inside her a moment before he spoke them aloud: “I love you.”
Something twisted in her chest, and fluttered at the back of her throat. Maybe it was habit, because whenever Tara said the words, she said them back, almost as a reflex.
In any case, thinking about it made her head hurt and her heart feel funny and panicky, so she generally tried to avoid it. Instead, she thought about how warm and solid and alive Giles’s body was, like a living wall behind her, and how nice his arms were, wrapped around her, making her feel so loved, so cherished, so... “Precious,” he whispered.
That thing inside her heart moved again, with an insistent lurch, and she had to say something, so she finally just said his name, because *that* at least, she was sure of.
“Rupert...”
Then she relaxed in his arms and just watched the stars come out over the ocean and let him hold her.
***
Mr. Giles had left for England that morning and Willow was spending the evening at home for what seemed like the first time in at least a week. Tara didn’t begrudge her the time spent with him, of course. Far be it for her to try to get between any of the Scoobies. She knew that they cared about each other, and she knew that they leaned on each other. And she knew that Willow really cared about Giles, and things were weird and probably scary for him right now.
Still, if she were being completely honest with herself, she was kinda glad he was gone for the moment, and that Willow was actually here. Even if they were just studying.
Tara was at her desk making a spreadsheet on her laptop. Willow was on her stomach on the bed, tapping a highlighter against her lips and reading a textbook. Her knees were bent up, and her feet were hooked together at the ankles, swaying back and forth over her back, vaguely in time with the beat of the music on their stereo.
She smiled, warmed by the sight of her love, here with her and at ease.
And, ok, not all of that warmth was entirely platonic. After all, with all the distractions of the past week they hadn’t really had any... alone time. Her smile widened a little, took on a wicked edge, and she decided that her spreadsheet could wait.
She shut her laptop and slunk over to join Willow on the bed, quiet as a cat, so that her hands on Willow’s back came as a surprise to the other girl. Willow jumped a little, making a cute little squeak, and then looked over her shoulder at Tara.
“Hey!”
Tara just continued to smile, and started to rub her shoulders.
Willow arched into the massage and tossed her highlighter aside.
“Mmm,” she said, and then, after a moment, “Hey, Tara, I heard once that 95% of all back rubs lead to sex. Do you think that’s, like, really accurate? Cause it seems to me like that’s- ooo, that was a good spot, right there... mmm...”
Tara leaned down over her and into the massage, like a jockey coaxing a thoroughbred to run just a little faster.
“This one might,” she murmured.
And Willow rolled over under her then, and reached up to touch her face, her hair, grinning all the while.
“Yeah, kinda looks like,” she said.
Tara let herself down over Willow, covering her like a blanket, and they were kissing, slowly, without urgency.
***
Willow couldn’t help but compare them. Tara’s kisses and Giles’s. Neither of them came up lacking in her mind, but there were differences. Aggression, maybe, being the big one. Here was Tara, a warm weight over her, with her tongue slipping gently into her mouth as it did, soft and light. Giles could be gentle. Often was. But there was always something more there, something hard to define, something wild and maybe just barely leashed.
Willow slid her hands down Tara’s back as they kissed, tracing her soft, feminine curves. Different, very different. But not in a bad way. She loved Tara’s body. She loved the shape of it, the softness of it. It felt good under her hands, always had, even the first few times they’d touched. She could remember the joy of it... the relief of it. The freedom of being able to admit how much she loved women’s bodies.
But she loved Giles’s body, too. And she’d loved Oz. And Xander. She liked male muscle, and broad shoulders, and... heck, Giles’s chest hair.
Tara pulled them over onto their sides, and Willow’s hand moved, almost automatically, to Tara’s breast. There was nothing in the world like those. She was endlessly fascinated by them, the way they moved in her hand, a heavy, living weight, and the way Tara’s nipples would peak into sharp points when she handled them.
Tara hummed softly into their kiss, moved her hand down to Willow’s waist, and pulled them a little closer together, wrapping her leg around Willow’s.
Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare them. After all, she’d been with Tara for more than a year. Giles, she’d been with for a week. He still had the flush of new... whatever... working in his favor. Plus, the whole secret romance thing? Kinda sexy all by itself.
It wasn’t until she was on her stomach between Tara’s legs, with her tongue slipping into her folds, that the real epiphany hit her. What Giles had that Tara didn’t. Hardness. And she wasn’t talking about the physical sense.
Tara was kind, and gentle, and soft... malleable. And that gentleness defined her, filled her, through and through. It wasn’t a bad thing. It was what made her so beautiful, so wonderful. Honest compassion, deep-seated agreeableness.
Giles, though... there was a darkness in him. A violence. Not something he was proud of, or something he showed very often. But it was there.
And the thing was... it was in her, too. She felt it sometimes. And when the two of them were together... it was like striking flint against steel. Sparks. Passion.
It wasn’t a *guy* thing, it was a *Giles* thing.
Later, with Tara’s tongue on her, and Tara’s fingers inside her, she had to press her arm over her mouth, had to bite back the words that wanted to come. Silently moved her lips, shaped words against the skin of her arm, “Goddess, yes, please, harder... Rupert...”
Then she was arching her back up, biting her arm to stop any incriminating cries, and digging her heels into Tara’s back, lost in the black-red haze of orgasm.
[Reviews - 0] [Kudos - 760]
Download story PDF format or ePUB format or MOBI format
Table of Contents
Download story PDF format or ePUB format or MOBI format
Table of Contents