James Bucky Barnes, the former soldier, doesn't think he's got any gentleness left in him. But Grace Juniper Cunningham, the former child prodigy, strongly disagrees.
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"𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯."
"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴�...
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Bucky woke me up at 4:30 the next morning. He was already dressed for the day. I was surprised to see that he owned a navy blue tee shirt—I'd thought everything he owned was black. Maybe he was in a good mood.
"Come on, doll, you don't want to wait until rush hour."
"I'm willing to make that sacrifice," I said, rolling away from him and facing the wall. He rolled me back over easily, pulling the covers off. I was still naked. "I'm cold now, too. Why are you hell bent on ruining my life?"
"You're being dramatic." He chuckled and climbed on top of me to kiss my forehead.
I wrapped my arms and legs around him tightly. "Now you're stuck with me. Go to sleep."
He wrapped his arms around my back and stood up with me still hanging onto him.
"...I've made a terrible mistake," I acknowledged, now out of bed against my will and being transported across the room.
"Can I fuck you like this?" he asked suddenly.
Before he said that, I hadn't noticed that I was perfectly lined up to take his cock in that position. But based on the fact that I could already feel him half-erect, I assumed he had noticed.
"You're really attracted to me," I stated.
"Are you still mad about when I said that to you?"
"I was just making an observation? You're ridiculously attracted to me."
He rolled his eyes. "Sure, I think you're okay."
I blinked in shock. "Take me back to Nat's. Go on. Start walking."
"You're naked."
"How is that my problem?"
"How is it not?"
"Tell me I'm pretty, James," I said seriously.
"You're pretty," he said dryly.
"Yeah, I'm leaving," I said, proceeding to try to climb up him, pushing myself up on his shoulder like I wanted to go over it.
"Why the fuck would you go up and not down?" he asked through laughter, holding me still, arms around my waist.
"You've driven me to the edge. Let me."
He sighed, and sat me down on the edge of his dresser instead, my legs still around him. He cupped my face in his hands. "I think you're pretty, Grace. I think you're—I mean, you know."
I tilted my head, interested. "Um, know what?"
"You know how I feel."
"Uh, no. I don't, actually."
"You know I—" he swallowed and restarted, choosing something that was apparently easier to say. "You're beautiful."
Just sex, I reminded myself. Just...a lot of sex. I averted my eyes from him, but I grabbed onto his forearms. Big hands still on my face. Thumb stroking my cheek.
