Chapter Five

Sharon awoke disoriented just before dawn and it took her a couple of seconds to realize she was on the couch - Steve's couch. After a moment, she remembered that they'd moved from her apartment after dinner and presents last night to his apartment to watch a movie. She must have fallen asleep, which wasn't particularly unusual. She was used to either waking up in Steve's living room with a blanket draped over her or alone in Steve's bed while he opted to take the couch. As a rule, even when they slept over at the other's place, they never actually slept together.

Until now, apparently, she thought as her eyes met the face of the still-slumbering Steve before her. He was stretched out, his head pillowed on his arm as she lay facing him and his other arm resting on her hip.

Her surprise was pleasant as she studied him in the first rays of the morning sun. His face was relaxed in sleep, his long lashes fanning his cheek and a faint whistle passing his slightly parted lips as he breathed deeply. He looked so peaceful - and so sexy - that she couldn't help the warmth that spread through her.

She sighed, breathing in the scent of him, and wondered what she could have ever done to deserve him. How many women, outside of romance novels, were lucky enough to end up with the man of their dreams?

When she was young, Sharon had created her ideal man based on her aunt's stories of Captain America. In adulthood, she'd realized no man would ever come close to the one in her imagination and she had accepted that she would have to eventually lower her standards if she was ever going to find a mate. Not even when Captain America was discovered and revived after seventy years in the Antarctic ice did she ever think that the man of her dreams would ever actually be hers.

But, here she was, completely in love with the sleeping man before her and wishing - so hard her heart ached with it - that he'd love her in return. She knew he cared deeply for her, knew she meant a lot to him, but she longed to hear the words from his full, perfect lips.

She stared at those lips now and, after a moment of hesitation, gave into temptation.

She leaned into him, pressing her lips to his and slowly tracing the contours of his mouth. She could spend, and had, hours kissing those lips, running her fingers through his hair and imagining what it would be like to go beyond the gentle caresses and breathless kisses.

Though Sharon loved kissing Steve, being kissed and held by him in return, she couldn't help that she wanted more. She tried to be patient, to understand that he was raised in a different time, but it was just so hard to want and to wait when he was right there and she was so willing.

She caressed his cheek, continuing her attention to his lips, and felt the hand resting on her hip move, pulling her closer as Steve himself deepened the kiss.

Well this is a nice, she thought, returning his probing kiss as he held her to him. She ran her hands down his torso, up his arms and back to caress his chest, thrilling at the passion with which he was kissing her.

His mouth left hers and she nearly protested aloud until she realized it was to trail kisses along her jaw, her neck. She sighed with pleasure, enjoying this new and exploratory maneuver. Maybe our six month anniversary means they we're finally moving past second base into third, she mused.

No sooner did she think that than Steve shifted, rolling them so that his body covered hers as he continued kissing her neck and surprised her further when his hand found its way under her sleep shirt — a move he'd definitely never done before — and cupped one of her breasts.

Unable to help herself, Sharon moaned, and her fingers gripped his hair as her mouth sought his again. She shifted her hips beneath his, felt his growing interest in their current activity and wondered if they were going to blow past third base and head straight for home.

"Oh Steve..." she breathed between kisses and arched her back, pressing herself to him. "Steve, I love..."

No sooner had the words formed on her lips than she felt him still and pull away.

"Sharon?" Steve asked, blinking and disoriented. He looked down at her, saw her swollen and bruised lips, realized his hand was under her shirt and slowly withdrew it.

"I didn't...I'm sorry..." He sat up, distancing himself from her, as he slowly shook his head and looked way. "I must have been dreaming, I didn't mean to..."

Didn't mean to make love to your girlfriend, she finished for him, as she sat up, tugged the hem of her shirt back down and unable to help the hurt and embarrassment she felt.

She should have known, even in her own enthusiasm, she should have known it was a too good to be true.

"I should go," Sharon said, pushing herself up onto unsteady legs. The heat of only moments before was gone and, in its place, a cold chill took hold. She looked toward the door, prayed she could escape through it before she broke down. She looked back at him, saw the apology on his face, and felt her lip quiver. She bit down, hard, to steady herself and repeated, "I have to go."

Giving him no time to respond or react, Sharon practically sprinted for the door. She heard Steve call her name but ignored him as she rushed out and down the hall to her own apartment.

As the door shut hard behind her, she did run, not stopping until she'd raced down her own hallway, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Knowing Steve couldn't help his sensitive hearing, she turned the shower on high and, when she was sure the pounding of the water was enough to mask the sounds, she collapsed to the tile floor and let the sobs come.