Your Ivy Grows

Chapter 33

"What do you want me to say, Barnes? I have no clue what this is, what we are. Do you? Half the time, I feel like we barely tolerate each other."

He tries to keep his face neutral, but he can't help the way he smiles at that. 'Barely tolerate each other.' Is that what she thinks? He moves closer until he's so close that he could reach out and touch her.

"I'm not even sure you like me. But I know you like fucking me—"

The loud laugh he lets out surprises even him, but he can't stop it. He has to run his hand over his face to hide how wide he's smiling.

"What?" she demands.

"Like fucking you." Repeating those words annoys him as much as her believing them does. "I like pizza. I like hot showers and whiskey. Fuck, I like a lot of things, Alexis. But 'like' isn't the word I'd use to describe how I feel about fucking you."

Sometimes she says the most ridiculous things, but that has to top the list. Like fucking her—that's the descriptor she went with. As if being inside of her isn't the closest he's ever going to get to fucking heaven. As if he isn't addicted to the taste and feel of her. And as if these five days away from her haven't felt like a self-inflicted act of fucking torture.

"You know what I mean, Barnes. Can we just agree that we won't sleep with other people so I can leave before you piss me off and I say something else I regret?"

Bucky doesn't even try to stop himself laughing. He's gone. He's so fucking gone for this woman. So she can leave? In what world did she think she could show up here, say all that and then just leave? He was stupid enough to let her walk out his apartment once before; he will not repeat the same mistake twice.

"Whatever you say, princess."

But he doesn't move out of her way. Instead, he does what he's been wanting to do since she got here. He reaches out, brushing her windswept hair away from her face before getting a good grip on the back of her head so he can pull her mouth to his. The instant, blissful relief he feels as soon as their lips touch is dizzying. He's spent five days starved of her and now that she's here, he's not letting her go.

At first, his kisses are slow; teasing. Why would he rush a second of this when they have something they've never had before? Time. They're alone here, with no risk of being caught or seen. As soon as his brain catches up to what that means, he's already lifting her off the ground and her legs are wrapping around him. He can finally have her on a bed.

If he was smart, he'd sit her down so they could talk. They need to talk. But he lost all chance of that happening the moment he kissed her. She's the most addictive substance he's ever encountered; there's no getting enough of her.

She coaxes his mouth open, deepening the kiss before he can. Her tongue slides over his and he groans—he fucking groans. It's hard to stop himself when the way she tastes is so intoxicating. She has the sweetest fucking mouth. No one should taste that good; like salted caramel and vanilla—a fucking dessert.

By the time he's carried her through the door of his bedroom, they've made quick work of ridding her of her shirt and bra.

"Let's see if you still think this is nothing when you're crying out my name as you come." He winks at her before tossing her down on the bed, earning himself an eye roll from Alexis.

"Are you always this cocky?"

"Maybe... Or maybe you just bring it out of me."

It's definitely her; she brings out a part of him he felt was long gone. Confidence wasn't something Bucky lacked until suddenly it was. Then being quiet in a room became more appealing than opening his mouth. Avoiding social situations became his modus operandi. Until she came into his life, shook him up like nothing else, and reminded him what it felt like to feel alive rather than merely living.