Where the spirit meets the bone. (Book 1 of the Illicit Affairs Series)

Chapter XV

"Fuck, James, that feels so good!" you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair so much that you could have almost ripped it off. Bucky raised his head from its place between your thighs and looked up at you, eyes hungry, licking his moistened lips.

"You want more?" he asked, voice strained, his lips spread in a predatory grin. You nodded wordlessly and pulled his head up. He placed open mouthed kisses under your navel, then above it, before moving on to your chest, licking and biting at your breasts. Your pulling on his hair made him lick a stripe on the centre of your throat, while you tilted your head as far back as you could. Finally, finally, he reached your lips, pecking them slowly before swiping his tongue on them. Once you parted them, he dived into a passionate kiss, sometimes pulling away just to enjoy your desperate whining. You felt him pressed against your core.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?" he groaned, while you pushed your hips against him, desperate for friction. You nodded, and his lips once again slotted on yours.

"'m gonna make you feel s'good, baby." he promised. Finally, his hips shifted as he lined himself up, and...

You woke up with a start. You almost let out a real whine.

You hated being friends. You hated it. Whoever invented friendship could eat shit.

A week had passed since you had last seen James. After that Tuesday, when he had made sure to have his arm around your shoulder the entire time -which you had greatly appreciated- while shooting glares at Steve, you had been too busy studying to hang out with your friends. Not that you actually did much studying, anyway.

It seemed that you had grown accustomed to Bucky and his touch, since his absence had affected your concentration. You had often found yourself daydreaming about him while your books laid open before you, and now he was haunting your dreams, too. You hadn't had a sexual dream since you were a teenager, and now you found yourself humping your mattress in your sleep like you were a fourteen year old who had just discovered porn again.

You groaned, burying your head in your pillow. You weren't sure what you were truly mad about: the fact that you had the dream, the fact that it had ended too soon, or how frustrated you were about the latter. You assumed that being a virgin made you hornier than most. Self help could only do so much, after all.

Why were you even doing this "friend" thing, again? Your sex crazed self didn't seem to remember.

And the both of you had feelings for each other, did you not? It wouldn't be the end of the word if he could just get over it and ask you to get together. You sure as hell wouldn't. The few times you had built up the courage to ask boys out in high school had backfired and you couldn't look anyone in your class in the eye for weeks after, so, sure, women could make the first move, but you were not one of them.

You would just have to make him do it, then.

"I need your help." you said, dropping your bag on the café table before sitting down.

"Yeah, I got that when you called me at six thirty AM, which, by the way, you will never do again." Vanessa grumbled, glaring at you from the other end of the table with her arms crossed. Her sweatpants and leggings let you know she was not in the mood for pleasantries.

"You know James?" you asked, trying to find the words to fill her in without annoying her. She sat up, suddenly interested.

"Actually, I don't but go on." she said, smirking.

"We kinda... have a thing." you started.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, slamming her open palms on the table, "Ow."