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Turning up the Heat

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Bucky quietly let himself into the apartment, carefully keying in the multiple security codes required before pushing the door open on silent hinges. He didn't know why he bothered being so stealthily, other than out of sheer habit; the other sometime-residents likely weren't even there.

Clint had left earlier that day for a surveillance job and Natasha was knee-deep in a corporate undercover op that had her working late most nights. Chances were he wouldn't see either one of them again for a few days.

So he was surprised when, as soon as he slipped through the door, he heard Natasha call out.


"Nah, it's me," Bucky yelled back as he hung up his jacket. "Clint got called in for a job."

When his answer was met with silence, he wandered through to the kitchen to find Nat still in her fancy office get-up, chopping what appeared to be a handful of vegetables at the counter.

"Now there's a sight you rarely see," he teased. Of all the things Natasha was good at, cooking was not one of them. He snagged a carrot from her pile. "Been watching the Food Network again?"

She barely spared him a glance before taking another whack with the knife. "Fuck off."

"Gladly, if you're willing to help me out with it," he laughed, then turned away toward the fridge to grab a beer from the crisper. With a deft tap against the counter, he popped the top and took a long drag, then settled back against the edge of the table, ankles crossed in front of him.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, gesturing toward her cutting board.

She shrugged.

"Didn't think stabbing the CEO with a letter opener would do much for my cover and neither you or Clint were home to help me work off my ire in other ways." She glanced over her shoulder. "You wanna help with dinner prep?"

Maybe it was the way she wielded the butcher knife she was using, or maybe it was the sight of her in her demure business outfit coupled with that little come-hither look. Whatever it was, Bucky was suddenly a lot less interested in food and a lot more interested in the ways he could help her work off her extra energy.

Carefully setting his beer down on the table, he got up and wrapped his arms around her waist his lips zeroing on the skin just below her earlobe.

"How about I give you a little taste of dessert instead?" he asked, the scruff of his beard rasping against her skin as he nuzzled her neck.

She tilted her head to the side but kept on chopping the vegetables, so he took advantage of her distraction to nip at her earlobe before trailing a line of kisses along the rim of her ear.

"I know it's the knife that's really turning you on," she said, amusement clear in her voice.

"It sure as hell ain't hurting," he admitted with a grin. "But trust me, it's as much you as the knife. Your little corporate get up is hot as fuck."

She stopped chopping and set the knife aside, then turned in his arms.

"Is it?" she asked with just the smallest of smirks.

He tipped his head back and laughed. "Like you don't know it."

She shrugged, very deliberately, so the silk of her blouse shifted to momentarily show a hint of lace and the creamy swell of one breast. The side of her mouth quirked up even more and he laughed again.

"How'd you like a hand getting out of it?" he asked.

"I might even like two," she quipped.

He glanced down at the blouse for a moment, then back up at her face.

"How attached are you to this blouse?" he asked.

She shrugged again and he got another glimpse of lacy bra.

"Not very," she told him. "It's Natalie's."

"Good," he said. Then he grasped the blouse in both hands and yanked, rending the silk and sending buttons cascading across the counter and floor. His fingers hooked under the miniscule straps of her bra. "And this?"

She plucked his hands away.

"The bra is mine. Also, very expensive. Don't destroy it," she admonished, unhooking the clasp at the back then tossing it to the floor.

His hands came up and cupped the globes of her naked breasts, thumbs briefly playing over her hardened nipples. Then he bent his head to hers and brushed his lips across her mouth.

"You want up on this counter or should I get down on my knees first?"

She tangled her hands in his hair. "Much as I love seeing you on your knees, I'm feeling a little impatient. Counter."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, easily grasping her around the waist and boosting her up.

She parted her thighs and her skirt rucked up, showing a tantalizing amount of thigh. He slid his hands up her legs and beneath the hem of her skirt, wondering if he should bother trying to get her panties off or just push them to the side. The decision was made for him when he encountered nothing but the bare, silky skin of her hips.

He grinned and raised a brow at her. "No underwear?"


"Kinda risque for office work, ain't it?"

She smirked down at him. "It's a lot easier when I need to seduce the IT guy in the supply closet."

"If you're trying to get me hot, imagining you with this other guy, it's working," Bucky chuckled, dipping his head to taste a nipple. "Did you need to?"

She sighed in pleasure and arched into him. "Seduce him?"


"Never quite got that far. But if the bulge in his pants was an indication, he was more than a little interested."

Bucky laughed and moved over to pull her other nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling across the tip. She leaned into him, encouraging him to suck harder.

"And Natalie definitely appreciated his interest, even if she didn't take him up on it," she added.

Bucky drew back and gave her a speculative look.

"You do know that Natalie is you, right? That you don't actually have dissociative disorder?"

She shrugged. "It's easier to keep the different compartments of my life separate. I feel less guilty about it when I come home to you boys."

"But not so guilty that you won't fuck other people for information," he observed, diving back down to taste her breast again.

"Does it bother you?" she asked.

He looked up at her. "You fucking other people? Not particularly. It's work, not pleasure. Besides, it's kind of hot when you talk about it, especially when one of them manages to get you off."

"Mmm, that is fun, getting you all hot and bothered. It's almost as fun as watching you and Clint fuck each other."

"You missed a particularly enthusiastic suck off this morning," he teased, brushing his fingers through the damp red hair between her thighs

She made a little moue of disappointment,

"Don't pout, dollface. Clint'll be back soon enough. Then you can watch us fuck all you want," he promised, leaning in to nip at her lower lip.

"Just watch?" she asked.

"Watch, participate. Anything you want."


She had a particular gleam in her eye and he wondered what she was cooking up, but he didn't have much time to worry about it because she was suddenly licking her lips and reaching for the fastening of his jeans.

"What I want right now," she said, popping the top button, "Is you inside me."

He halted her hand and moved just far enough away that she couldn't quite get to the zipper. She frowned in frustration.

"Fuck me now, Barnes, or I swear to God I guarantee you won't be in much shape for any kind of fucking in the next week," she threatened.

"Shoes off first," he commanded.

"Oh, is that what your problem is?"

"Yeah, that's my problem."

She pouted at him. "But I like the idea of fucking you while wearing nothing but a hiked up skirt and a pair of stilettos."

"And I like the idea of not getting stabbed in the ass in the middle of sex. Shoes off."

The pout remained, but she dutifully kicked the heels off, letting them clatter across the tiled floor. "Satisfied?"

"Not yet, but I will be," he laughed, bracing his hands on either side of her hips. "Tell me more about what happened with the IT guy."

She leaned in, her lips mere inches from his as her breath mingled with his. She flicked out her tongue and licked at his lower lip, then bit down lightly, making him groan.

"You first. Tell me about you and Clint."

"Not much to tell. He was jerking off in the shower when I went into the bathroom to take a piss. I offered to help him out. He was already so hard, my lips were barely around his dick before he shot his load."

Rucking her skirt up higher, he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter, then completed unfastening his pants. Her hand curled around his erection as she carefully pulled it from his jeans.

"And?" she purred, fingers stroking his dick tantalizingly.

"He licked what was left of his junk from my lips then sucked me dry," Bucky growled, yanking her hand away and pulling her hips forward even more so he could push into her. "Now tell me about the IT guy."

"Not much to tell," she breathed arching her back. "He got a good eyeful up my skirt and was about to fall into my lap - both figuratively and literally - when the fucking CEO interrupted us."

Bucky chuckled. "Should have invited him for a threesome."

He reached to pull her even closer, only to have her unexpectedly surge forward at the same time, causing them both to lose their balance. They tumbled to the floor, barely missing one of the kitchen chairs on their way down, and landed with a thud.

Bucky's arm jarred achingly at the shoulder as it took the brunt of the impact and all the air rushed from his lungs as Natasha landed hard against his chest.

For a second, all he could think was how thankful he was that he'd missed landing on one of her damned high heels.

That's when he glanced up to find Natasha staring down at him, her lips parted in surprise. They looked at one another in stunned silence for a moment and then both started giggling. The giggles grew until they were both shaking with laughter.

She rolled to the floor at his side, still laughing.

"Maybe I should have asked you to go down on me after all," she said with another giggle.

"Maybe we should move this to a bed instead," he suggested. He surged to his feet and pulled her up from the floor, hauling her over his shoulder to the accompaniment of even more laughter.

"I think that's the best suggestion yet," she agreed.