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Four days of sightseeing along the way later, you were in a gas station waiting in line to pay for a bottle of soda and bag of chips. That was when you saw the gossip rag in a rack next to the counter.

‘Captain America Taking Lessons From Tony Stark? Squeaky clean superhero spotted making out with and fondling mystery woman in park!’ The accompanying image was a badly timed shot of him helping to clean cheese sauce off your slacks when you’d been in the sculpture garden together.

“Ma’am, can I help you?” the cashier asked.

“Give me a minute,” you replied, opening the tabloid to see what the article had to say.

“You don’t normally read those,” Steve said from behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“I’m not normally featured in them.” You turned to the cover and handed it to him.

He glanced at the cover and flipped to the article with a shrug. “This is actually pretty tame. Have you seen the articles about Tony?”

“You’re not upset?” you asked incredulously.

“No. I might get a mouthful from Fury when I go back to SHIELD headquarters again about my public image, but he’s always giving someone a mouthful over something. Are you upset?”

You paused and considered it. You weren’t ashamed of Steve, not in the slightest, and couldn’t be indignant on his behalf when he apparently didn't care. There wouldn’t be any questioning remarks from friends. Your social life had dwindled down to mostly professional contact with coworkers during business hours and Steve when you weren’t at work. Other than the possibility of being harassed by the paparazzi now that you were a point of interest, which was a bridge you’d cross when you came to it, you couldn’t find any particularly good reason to be upset. “I thought I would be, but I guess not.”

He offered you a smile, and you didn’t argue when he paid for your soda and chips. You were distracted, and a little perplexed, by the fact that you weren't upset by something you’d been trying to avoid for months because it seemed like it belonged on a list of the worst things ever.

“We’re about 50 miles from the amusement park,” Steve said after you got into the car. “Do you want to drive the rest of the way today and stop at anything interesting we miss on the way back?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. The park would probably be less busy on a Thursday than over the weekend anyway.”

Your destination was in a small older town with only a few hotels. The two chain hotels were full because of a family reunion and wedding, but the woman working in the lobby of the second hotel you visited said there was another place to stay, closer to the amusement park, that she thought would have some vacancies.

When you drove up to the suggested motel in the early evening, your eyebrows raised. It was called Lover’s Lane, marked by a large fluorescent sign containing two hearts. It seemed kind of hokey, and was probably related to the Tunnel of Love at the amusement park being one of the few operational ones left. At least the vacancies sign was lit so you wouldn’t have to try the neighboring towns so late in the evening.

You went into the lobby with Steve to check in and found an older man at the desk, watching Matlock on a practically handheld sized black and white TV. It was probably as old as the motel.

“You have vacancies, sir?” Steve asked.

The man looked up. “You came at just the right time. We’ve only got one room left tonight, the Paramour’s Palace. Great room, one of the best we have. I’m sure you’ll both love it.”

You glanced at the slightly blurry and grainy image on the TV while Steve took care of checking in and hoped you weren’t in for an awkward experience.

The man handed Steve the key, and an actual metal key at that. You thought every hotel had upgraded to key cards. “It’s the third door on the right. Have a good night, lovebirds!”

You helped unload the trunk and carried your suitcases to the door. Steve unlocked it and flipped on the lightswitch.

“Wow,” was all you could manage to say at the room. The focal point of the room was a heart-shaped bed with a red shag comforter covering it with matching heart shaped lamps on the nightstands. The decor on the wall was borderline tastefully done erotic photos. There was a television across from the bed on a dresser. A walk into the bathroom revealed a large jacuzzi tub, also red and heart-shaped of course.

“Why is there a machine next to the bed that takes quarters?” Steve asked. “It says 15 minutes for 25 cents.”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out!” You walked up to the box that he was examining and pulled a quarter out of your pocket, popping it into the machine. The bed started to loudly vibrate. You laughed and sat down on it. The vibrations were stronger than you expected, and you were pretty sure given a few minutes that you wouldn’t be able to help getting off, even through your jeans and panties.

“Are you still sore?” Steve asked, eyeing you with a tentative grin.

You shook your head no, too lust-addled to really hold a conversation. Even if you had been a little sore, you probably would have ignored it if a vibrating heart-shaped bed, and its many possibilities, had shown up in your life.

Steve reached into his pocket and put several quarters on the nightstand. His t-shirt, khakis and boxers quickly formed a pile on the floor. He stalked over to you, almost predatorily. “It’s been over four days now, and I think you’re overdressed for the occasion.”

You tossed your t-shirt and bra on the floor and shimmied out of your jeans and panties, then crawled up to the top of the bed and waited for him to follow.

Steve lay down on his side next to you. He moved your hand away when you reached for his erection. “Let’s take this slow. We’ve got all night and plenty of quarters.”

His mouth covered yours, and he pulled you against him. You sighed contently when his strong arms wrapped tightly around you for a moment. A large hand cradled the back of your head while the other ran up and down your back slowly, stroking and tracing patterns as the vibrations intensified his touch. He always stopped short of the curve of your ass, though, even when you arched your back into his touch to encourage him to continue his exploration.

His erection was trapped against your stomach, and you could feel a substantial amount of precome leaking onto your skin. You broke the kiss for a moment, breathing heavily. “God, you’re wet tonight. You must like this bed as much as I do.”

“You seem to be forgetting about who I’m sharing the bed with.” He kissed his way to your ear and whispered, “she’s definitely something to get worked up over.”

Your face flushed a bit at the compliment. They had become commonplace, but it hadn’t stopped surprising you every time that the peak of human perfection was so aroused by you. “Thank you. You already know what you do to me.” To illustrate your point, you draped your leg over his and pressed your wetness against his leg, the vibrations through his skin drawing a moan from your lips. It felt too good to not drag yourself against his thigh more.

“I have an idea,” he mumbled against your neck and moved your leg. He sat up, pulling you up with him. He cocked his head to the side in obvious deliberation before he hopped off the bed and grabbed a tube of lubricant from his duffel bag.

“When did you get that?” you asked with a smirk.

“I’ve had it for a while. It makes things...smoother when I’m not with you. Better than the gun oil I was used to before. Certain places shouldn’t smell like a weapon.” He crinkled his nose in obvious displeasure at the memory as he placed the tube on the bed.

“I can only imagine.” The thought of him silently getting off at night when he had the chance while he was serving in the war intrigued and aroused you further. You decided you’d have to ask him about it later, when you weren’t so distracted.

“What do you plan on doing with it?” You were genuinely curious since you were always wet enough for the sex you normally had. Whatever it was, you were sure that you’d be up for it with the courage the vibrating bed was bringing out in you.

“You like my hands,” he started, trailing a path with his fingers from your lips downward, “and you especially like them here.” He dropped his hand down between your legs, lightly brushing your mound. You shivered in anticipation. “I think you’d like it even more if my hand was vibrating.”

“You aren’t wrong about that. Where does the lube play into that, though? We haven’t needed to use it before.” You placed your hand on top of his and traced his knuckles with your fingertips absentmindedly.

“Well, I thought you could try four fingers and then do what you were doing with my leg to my palm. We haven’t done that before, but only if you want to.”

Your lips curved up into a grin at the thought of riding Steve’s hand, those long, thick, very skilled fingers filling you up more than you’d ever been before. “I wouldn’t turn this down even if there was no vibrating bed. The vibrating bed is just icing on an already delicious cake.”

“We’re taking this slow,” he warned. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m in no rush. Just don’t tease too much?” The bed was already trying your patience for taking things slow.

"So you don't want me to touch you here first?" He traced his fingertips along the sensitive skin below your ear down onto your neck, sending another little shiver through you. "Or kiss you here?" His mouth pressed softly against your collarbone. The tip of his tongue slipped between his lips to touch your skin, sweeping a small slick path between the dryer drag of his lips toward your neck.

You moaned softly. “I could be swayed by your arguments. They’re very convincing.”

He smiled against your skin before he pulled back to look at you. “I’m not going to make you wait. I’d be making myself wait, too.”

“I thought you said patience was a virtue,” you teased, gently tugging his hand toward your thighs to show him you weren’t being serious.

“A man can only be so virtuous.” He guided you to lie down against the pillows, red satin pillowcases soft, slick and cool against your shoulders and upper back. He crawled over to the edge of the bed to put several more quarters into the machine as he quickly as he could.

The vibrations stuttered for a moment with each quarter and made you wonder what it would be like if the bed had settings, like pulsing and different levels of vibration. It sounded like a job for a certain self-proclaimed genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, but you weren’t quite done being upset with him over what he’d said.

Quickly casting mood-quelling thoughts of Tony aside, you fought the urge to sit up and seek some relief against the mattress. It wouldn't take much, just a few strategically positioned rolls of your hips. You weren't quite desperate enough to start humping a piece of furniture, but it was a close call. It really had been a long few days.

Steve crawled back over to you and positioned himself between your legs. “Do you think you can wait until I tell you to?"

You not-so-secretly liked when he took charge, went a bit into 'Captain America mode,' as you called it. "I can try, but I can't make any promises. I'm already close, between you and the bed."

“I have faith in you.” He briefly toyed with your clit with a fingertip, arm not pressed against the mattress fortunately. Your hips involuntarily chased the contact when he moved his hand away. “If you could see yourself right now...”

“There's probably a camera hidden somewhere. I'm sure we could find the tapes somewhere in the main office,” you joked.

A horrified look briefly crossed Steve's face as he glanced around the room suspiciously.

“Just an urban legend as far as I know,” you reassured him. “Do you really think a guy who watches Matlock on a black and white TV with a 7 inch screen and still uses metal keys is recording what goes on in these rooms?”

“Probably not,” he eventually said, sliding a thick finger slowly inside you. “You're practically dripping.”

“You tend to do that to me. Just comes with the territory of being devastatingly sexy and an amazing lover.” You smiled at the blush that deepened the flush he already had from his arousal. He wore it so well that you'd probably never get enough of it. “Another finger?”

“Trying to charm me into getting your way?” he asked with a grin, but added his middle finger on the next inward thrust.

“Mhmm,” you replied through a moan at the added fullness, though it still wasn't enough. Patience was annoying you. Was fornicating with a national icon and moral compass really a time to be virtuous of all things? “Is it working?”

“I don't know. What else have you got?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Your voice when you're turned on like this is insanely hot, the way it gets deeper and the Brooklyn accent comes back a bit. You could read the takeout menus by the TV to me in that voice, and it would have me aching for you.” You licked your lips and looked at him expectantly.

“Do you want me to test that theory?” He scissored his fingers and curled them upward to find your g-spot, fortunately not moving from where he knelt between your legs.

“No,” you quickly replied, displeasure at the thought obvious. “I'm already aching for you, more of you anyway. Please?”

“Since you asked nicely.” His ring finger slipped in beside the others with no resistance.

“Yeah, that's much better, been needing this so bad for days,” you admitted.

It wasn't anything you hadn't experienced before, vibrating bed aside, but that didn't stop it from being the best thing you'd felt since your last encounter. Super soldier sized fingers were much more satisfying than your own had been during the stolen moments in the shower the past few days. You hadn't wanted to face the concerned Captain America tone telling you that you needed to let yourself heal first.

Sometimes you seriously wondered if he'd ever taken a good long look in the mirror without his clothes on. Even a straight man couldn't deny he was so hot he gave the sun a run for its money. No reasonable person would expect you to completely abstain from finding some form of relief after being exposed repeatedly to Steve Rogers in varying states of undress.

“I think...” He stopped moving his hand and spread his fingers tentatively before withdrawing them completely. You found yourself chasing them with your hips again and hoped that wouldn’t become a common theme of the evening. “Yeah.”

“Why?” you asked, but it came out as more of a whine.

“I'm not stopping,” he reassured you as he poured some lube on his fingers, thoroughly coating them up to the knuckles. “Okay. You're going to tell me if I'm hurting you.”

“I will,” you agreed. A little pleasure-pain was far from a bad thing at the time, but you didn't want to deal with another stretch of torment, also known as forced abstinence.

Slippery fingers found your entrance again, and you were glad he started where he left off with three. You couldn't be held responsible for what would have happened if he'd made you go through the first two again. His pinkie worked its way in slowly, until all four fingers were buried inside to the knuckle, and he stilled.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked, rubbing your side with his free hand.

“Feels good. You can move,” you urged him.

He slipped his free hand behind your back and brought you up into a sitting position on his now vibrating hand. His fingers were flat, the new stretch strange, but not unpleasant when combined with the vibrations. When he curled his fingers up, it was impossible for him to miss your g-spot. You gasped and barely kept yourself from slipping over the edge into the orgasm you were already on the verge of.

“Soon. Just let me...” He easily adjusted your pliant body until both of you were kneeling. You were as close as you could be face to face, but it somehow wasn't close enough.

You found the missing closeness when his mouth pressed against yours, tongue darting out to trace the seam of your lips. You parted your lips to grant his probing tongue access. He quickly took advantage. While he explored your mouth, he slid his free hand down your back to cup your ass before pulling it forward against his hand. You didn't need much encouragement to start rolling your hips against his hand.

You were so close, had wanted so much for so long that it was torture to hold off while you teetered around the edge. He nodded against you. His palm ground right up against your clit in case you had any doubt what he meant. He swallowed your moans and whimpers while you rolled your hips hard once, twice, three times and finally climaxed.

This orgasm was the kind with fireworks behind your eyes. You knew there were noises coming out of your mouth, your head tipped back keening, but it was distant. The only thing you could focus on was the white hot pleasure coursing through your body, as you came, and came, and came. Maybe patience wasn't such an awful virtue after all, if it ended with something this spectacular and overpowering.

When your orgasm ebbed, you returned to a hazy awareness to find yourself lying down. Steve was on his side, head propped up on his arm, watching you with a fond look on his face.

“That was...wow,” you managed to say, a smile creeping across your lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed, chuckling. “I think this bed may be one of the best inventions that happened while I was in the ice.”

“Wait. What about you? You didn't come,” you realized.

“I did,” he admitted, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “Seeing you come apart like that did it for me. You're so beautiful then. Makes me want to draw you like that, but I don't think I could capture it right.”

You found yourself a bit surprised he managed to get off untouched. No one had done that with you or over you before. Your heart swelled a bit that you could do that to someone, or really rather that you could do that to Steve. You weren't sure what to say, but decided a simple “thank you” would suffice.

He wordlessly pulled you over to drape across him. You were too boneless to fight his gentle manhandling, even if you wanted to, so you let him rearrange you until you were notched against and over him like a human blanket, your head was resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair absentmindedly.

You could hear his steady heartbeat through the vibrations from the bed, an odd combination, but it was somehow soothing enough to lull you to sleep.