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

Chapter XVI

Driving a bike with a boner, Bucky discovered that night, was a lot harder -no pun intended- than he would have imagined.

He hadn't been able to focus on the movie at all, torn between thinking about you at his side or the memory of your ass. The moment you had started to inch your hand towards his upper inner thigh, he started to simply focus on keeping his breathing even. As soon as the movie finished, he bolted upright, covering his crotch by lacing his hands in front of him, mumbled something about having to work early the next morning and almost ran out the door. You didn't know wether to be satisfied or worried you had gone too far. You decided on the former.

Once he locked his apartment door behind him, he slumped against it, trying to calm himself. Maybe it was exactly what you wanted, but he didn't want to jack off to your image. He was a gentleman, or at least he tried to be. Also, Rebecca was probably home, and the last thing he wanted was to get caught masturbating by his sister. He had risked that enough times during his teenage years.

He headed for the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom, letting the water warm up while he undressed. As he took off his boxers, he glared at his hard, flushed cock and muttered "Traitor."

It did little for his situation, but he stubbornly stood under the shower head for what felt like hours, waiting for his blood to rush somewhere, anywhere else. The water had started to run cold, so he finally, shamefully, took himself in his hand.

The porn video he watched last week, the pictures on the shop's walls, that girl who gave him the best quickie of his life in a club's bathroom years ago. Any of those thoughts would be more respectful, but his mind kept running back to you as he stroked and twisted and squeezed.

The kisses you two had shared. You, bent over in front of him. The moan you let out when you first tried a burger at Connor's. Your hand so fucking close to his dick not even an hour earlier.

He gave up on the nice act and succumbed to his fantasies. When he came with a grunt, leaning on the shower wall to catch his breath, the relief was enough to surpass the shame.

We're you trying to work him up? It couldn't have been an accident. He was sure you'd seen his boner. If your teasing had been unintentional, you would have stopped after noticing it. As he got out of the shower, he concluded that you were doing it on purpose.

He didn't know where that little act was coming from, but he hoped it would end after tonight, because he wasn't sure he would control himself the next time.

His phone vibrated on the counter from your text.

"Hope you got home alright. Sweet dreams, James."

His dreams were all but sweet.

The following two weeks were hard, just like Bucky constantly was whenever you were present. You tuned down the teasing in front of the others, keeping your touch light and innocent, but as soon as you two were left alone for a moment, you were all over him with languid strokes of your fingertips on his thigh and whispers so close to his ear that your lips grazed it.

He had tried to avoid it, he told himself, but he never made any effort to stop you. As painful as his balls felt, he couldn't deprive himself of your attention. He didn't know when the sweet girl he was falling in love with had become the vixen beside him now, but he wasn't sure he minded. Even more than the teasing, it was your confidence that turned him on. He could just picture you getting bored of these games and straddling him, using him to chase your pleasure. He'd never been submissive in bed, but he would have loved to try it with you.

His dirty fantasies were interrupted by your voice. You were all currently sitting at the usual boot at the diner, you beside him while, of course, you caressed his thigh under the table.