Your ringtone jarred you from a deep sleep, completely and totally groggy. It took you a minute to get your bearings enough to answer your phone.

"Hello?" you mumbled.

"Did I wake you?"

"Steve?" You rubbed your eyes and looked at your alarm clock. It was already almost noon.

"I was just calling you to tell you I'm downstairs. I texted you earlier."

"God, I'm so sorry. I'll be ready in...well, give me about 15 minutes. You can come up if you want."

"I'll wait downstairs."

"Okay. I'll see you in a few minutes."

You cursed to yourself as you stumbled out of bed. You rushed to throw some clean clothes on and do the bare essentials like make your hair look halfway presentable and brush your teeth. At least you'd showered yesterday after he left.

17 minutes later, you rushed downstairs hoping you hadn't forgotten anything. You found Steve holding a paper cup with the logo of the coffee shop down the street on it.

He seemed pleased to see you, which put a smile on your face. You were worried he'd be annoyed you overslept. He handed you the cup. "It sounded on the phone like you could use this."

"Thank you. I'm so sorry. I didn't think to set my alarm." You sipped the still too hot coffee, slightly burning your tongue.

"Don't worry about it." He smiled and ran a hand down your shoulder.

You winced as he hit the bruised spot from the day before.

A concerned look crossed his face, and he lifted up your short sleeve to peek underneath. You tried to tug your arm away, but he snatched your wrist with his other hand and held on to it firmly but gently.

When you pulled against his hold on your wrist, you realized you couldn't move your hand an inch. You wouldn't admit it, at least not yet, but it was more than slightly arousing that he could overpower you like that. It had a lot of potentially fun applications if he was okay with them. You weren't sure how serious he'd been about trying harder to be kinky.

You watched him look at the bruises and gingerly place his fingers on top of them, matching them in size and shape.

"I'm fine. I've done worse to myself getting into my car," you assured him.

He frowned and sighed. He started to open his mouth to say something, but stopped.

"Really. I wouldn't take anything from yesterday back if I could. Not a single second of it."

"I'll be more careful," he promised, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"So you're definitely still interested in..." You glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, obviously confused. "Did you change your mind?"

"Just making sure we're on the same page so I don't do anything to make you uncomfortable." You took his hand in yours and squeezed it. He entwined his fingers with yours for a moment before your hands separated.

You finished your coffee quickly and tossed the cup in the trash can outside the door. Coffee was definitely exactly what you needed. "Is your place far from here?"

"Not very, about 15 minutes."

You walked with him out to his motorcycle and got on the seat behind him. It was another cloudy day, a bit on the cool side. You pulled yourself closer into his warmth since you hadn't thought to take a jacket with you.

The ride wasn't terribly long, and you'd at least thought to wear jeans to lessen the degree of torture inflicted on you by the vibrations of the motorcycle's engine. You wondered if motorcycles were torture for men, too, filing it away as a question to ask later.

He pulled into a space in front of a red brick apartment building in an area you weren't very familiar with. Thunder cracked, and you walked quickly into the building to avoid the rain, following him upstairs and down a long hallway before he stopped.

He unlocked the door and opened it, ushering you in. You walked in and felt immediately like you were in another era. The furniture, the sparse decor, everything you could see was straight out of the 1940s, whether it be replicas or actual antiques.

"Nice apartment," you said, walking over to an antique radio and looking at it.

"Tony...fixed it for me. He put a music player in it with some songs and old broadcasts on it." He turned it on, and Bing Crosby started playing.

"Oh, 'Moonlight Becomes You.' I remember this one," you said.

"You've listened to this before?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Someone I knew had stacks of old records, and I listened to them." You paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Hey, would you like to dance?"

"I never learned how," he admitted.

"I meant dancing that doesn't require lessons," you clarified. "Here, I'll show you." You placed his hands on your waist and wrapped your hands around his shoulders. "And you kind of just move around slowly? It's not really dancing."

He pulled you close to him, his hands resting on the small of your back. You laid your head on his shoulder, inhaling his lightly masculine scent, and slowly swayed to the music. One track faded into another. Time passed in a pleasant, slow manner while you were in his arms.

You moved up to your toes to kiss his neck. Your kisses were chaste at first, but soon you started licking and nibbling the skin you could reach with your mouth.

He moved his hands from your lower back down to the back of your thighs and effortlessly hoisted you up to eye level.

"I thought you wanted to dance?" he asked.

"Well, there's always the horizontal mambo," you offered with a mischievous smirk.

"Horizontal mambo?" He obviously didn't get the reference.

"It's my favorite dance of all." You moved your hands down to squeeze his ass and press your hips harder into him.

"Oh!"

You laughed.

He carried you to the nearest wall and pushed your back against it. His lips pressed to yours hard, tongue quickly claiming your mouth. You moaned into his mouth when he began grinding into you a bit. Your fingers dug into his back through his shirt, and your legs wrapped around him tighter.

Hopefully, no additional catastrophes would prevent you from thoroughly enjoying the bulge pressing against you through too many layers of fabric.

The music changed to something that sounded like it belonged in an old Disney cartoon. You tried to tune it out, but he broke the kiss and looked annoyed. "I told Tony to take that song off of the radio."

"What is it?" you asked.

"It's a propaganda song from the war." He sighed.

"Not the greatest mood music."

He moved a hand to your back to support you and walked over to the radio and shut it off. "Now, where were we?"

"Wait, what was it that you wanted to show me?" you asked, wondering if it was a sexy surprise.

"Later," he said, pressing your back into the wall again.