We convinced Sam - and to a lesser extent Sarah (she was far more trusting of us) - that we'd let them know when we set a date.
"Could you let us take things one at a time, please," I begged. "PTSD nightmares, possible pregnancy, a new career, AND a wedding to plan is a LOT to put on one girl's plate, wouldn't you agree?"
Bucky was grinning into my neck, and it was doing things to me that I couldn't exactly call CALMING. As if he could hear me, or a more likely bet - he FELT my pulse kick up a few notches - his grin turned into a kiss, which moved to open mouth tongue touching my skin. I couldn't squirm, God knew I wanted to, but if I did SAM would fucking KNOW.
"Say it," Bucky murmured, a breath - hot and burning against my damp skin - and I fought to form words. "Say it," so quiet, a throwback to his past that he hated.
I swallowed hard, needing something - air, more moisture in my throat, SOMETHING - clearing my throat caught both Sam and Sarah's attention. Damn it.
"Are you alright?" Brow furrowed, Sam looked like he was ready to rush over and CHECK - fuck.
"I'm a little tired, actually -" Bucky's grin was back, his fingers tight on my skin where he held me. "I feel terrible for -"
Sarah was giving me a look like she KNEW exactly what was going on, but she managed to reign in the urge to call bullshit. "Oh, there's NO need for that, Brooke," she fought a grin that was threatening to grow. "You're not feeling your best, you should head back to your hotel and REST." Her eyes flickered to where Bucky was still buried against my neck, my braid hiding his face. "Bucky will take VERY good care of you, I'm SURE."
I tried to LOOK more pathetic, without looking TOO pathetic, but I'm not a great actress. Luckily Sarah got Sam to pay more attention to helping her with the print that I'd made of her boys and the shield. Sam diverted, Sarah amused, Bucky and I were free to - well we couldn't RUN or RUSH, I was ILL after all - but we could leave. And once we were in the car, Bucky's gaze met mine and I bit my lip.
"How far is the hotel?" His nostrils flared and the knuckles on his right hand were white as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. "Let's not get a ticket?"
"Nothing is stopping us, Brooke," he ground out, and the rush of lust that hit me was like a flash of fire. Sweet Jesus.
He was right, we got to the hotel safe and sound - without being stopped by the police - and we were in our room in record time. Bucky's mouth was on mine before the door shut, his tongue so hot and hungry that I REALLY hoped that anyone who was on our floor was out doing whatever people did who visited Delacroix - because I was making enough noise to raise the dead.
His fingers were tearing my blouse off my shoulders while mine were working at his waistband - belt, button, zipper - we couldn't get one another bare fast enough. As fast and hungry as he began, he slowed, pulling back slightly and staring down into my eyes. His mouth met mine again, and this time it felt like he was worshipping me, tempting and tasting - while my hands slid under his shirt and played across his warmth.
My back met the bed, and we made love - once the rest of our clothing was tossed away and off - we kept being diverted by tasting one another. As if we had never had the chance to see one another in the sunlight bare, or took the time to REALLY listen to the noises that the other made when our lips, tongues, or teeth met each part of the other's body.
I'd thought that Bucky had made me tremble the first time we made love, but when we made love this time - he shook me to my core. It was like we were finally settled. That we knew exactly where we were headed - together. And somehow that made everything so much more powerful and perfect.
We were laying together, on top of the bedding, my head on Bucky's chest and my fingers tangled in his dog tags - my newly acquired ring glistening in the afternoon sunlight. His heartbeat was steady and sure under my cheek and my smile was growing.
"You look happy," his voice rumbled through my cheek. Turning my head, I kissed his chest.
"That's because I AM happy," propping my chin on him, I looked up. "You don't exactly look miserable, Buck."
He'd been tracing the same patterns he always seemed to find comfort in tracing on my skin, with his LEFT hand, and now he was cupping my cheek and the soft smile was growing on his lips too. "I'm beyond happy."
"Beyond happy?" Could that line in The Grinch about hearts growing be REAL? Because I swear, I was feeling like it was happening inside me. "I love you."
"Come up here and say that to my face," he teased, and I did just that, laughing when he reciprocated and rolled me onto my back, kissing his way to my abdomen. He took a deep breath and kissed me just beneath my navel. "If you're already in there," and I knew this wasn't something he was saying to me, but he wanted me to hear it too. "I love you, too." And he kissed the spot again, while I ran my fingers through his hair.