They’d been expensive, and the part of her that still remembered being hungry and threadbare in the thirties recoiled at the thought of Steve ripping them. It was only a small part, though, and Peggy put pressure at his shoulder, squeezing to let him know that it was all right.
“If you must,” her breath puffed against his ear as she teased the lobe with her teeth. She wanted all of him right then, so what was a pair of knickers? “I promise I won’t get mad...” her voice hitched, and she could feel him hot and heavy already through the fabric of his trousers, her body thrumming with need.
A spear of heat pressed between her legs, intensified by the insistent press of Steve’s tongue past her lips and into her mouth. She considered that if Howard or Jarvis found them, it wouldn’t matter all that much. Jarvis would be embarrassed, of course. Horribly so.
She would be too if she found him like this in the closet with Ana, to be fair.
Howard would probably laugh and go about either embarrassing them, or he would quickly close the door again and pretend he’d seen nothing. She certainly hoped for the latter.
“Good...” she breathed heavy as Steve reached between them to undo his belt, the dull clink of metal and leather was almost deafening in the close quarters of the closet. The fur collar of one of the ladies’ coats tickled at Peggy’s nose, and she turned her face aside to give the quietest sneeze she could muster, jerking with it. “I don’t...want to either.”
She gave a languid smile, doing her best to move against Steve, but the wall had her pinned still, and it was quite challenging, she was finding, to move at all except when he allowed her to.
Steve’s expression was unavailable in the darkness, but his breath brushed against her cheeks, and Peggy felt safe.
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