Natasha
That was an unusual day to say the least.
I glance at my cell phone as I wait for the elevator to go up to Steve's apartment. Damn, I'm really late. Nine passes and then I would die with him, I would die with him, and then I said that I would die there at seven. But I was very busy.
Yes, I, Natasha Romanoff, was busy.
And not busy reading the latest Kardashians gossip on the People website or filing your nails while battling over which nail polish of the week. I well thought out and in inches was in practice like meetings I set up for. So far I don't know how I managed to put it all together so quickly. I meant it when I complained to Steve that we didn't even go out to lunch and, to be honest, I didn't even have a coffee break! It was a real miracle. When I received an authorization in a formal email from Steve (and with a copy to none of the shareholders, so I don't think there was any malicious comment) I was very excited. I was safe!
Steve was very direct in the email: I, Natasha Romanoff, was authorized to continue Roman. And not Erin.
Which reminded me that he said he would fire her. Was he serious? I couldn't say that I wouldn't be quite happy if that actually happened. Just imagining Erin coming back and catching me in her office made me want to throw up with fear.
She was going to kill me, to say the least. Maybe she'd come back using crutches and use them to beat me up while laughing like the madwoman she was.
So if Steve really is a layoff, that would be great for me, why lie? Not just because Erin didn't do anything with her life but torment me, but also because I discovered that she was loving my work.
Yes, I've been working for a full minute, I left the company way too late, and I loved every single one! I only gave the day for closed messages because Steve started to send more and more impatiently.
And let's face it, who's going to keep Steve Rogers waiting?
I couldn't wait to be alone with him.
So now I get out of the elevator and I run to his door, which opens before I even knock and he's been dying all day: to jump on top of him.
Steve laughs as he holds me and as he slams the door behind him he kisses me at the same time.
Damn, na minhat, I think you crash, na minhat! - complain when I take my mouth from his.
It's my turn to laugh, my hands neatly positioned in his hair.
"Not breaking the ulna bone is fine!"
He laughs and kisses me again, this time deep and slow, making my skin crawl from my toes to the last strand of hair. And my mind is spinning and my legs turn to jelly as he lets go of me.
- Wow! I mutter and open my still misty eyes to realize he'd felt me carried into the room without me or him. 'How did you do it?'
Steve lets out a laugh over the dressing gown, taking my clothes off.
Ah yes.
I bite my lips, eager to take it off and help him into his clothes as well, until there's nothing left between my fingers and his skin. Between his mouth and my skin.
Oh, it seems like it's been years since he's kissed me like this, marking my skin with bites and licks and leaving me melting and gasping for more.
For everything.
“You're good at this, Mr Rogers.” I sigh as he rolls me onto my stomach and plants wet kisses down my back.
— I have motivation. He bites my shoulder and I lift my hips at the feel of his erection.
Oh please...
He laughs and takes out a condom.
'Is that how you want it?' He growls and I almost come just from his authoritative tone in my ear as his hand goes to work moving up my gang.
"I'll let you choose…"
- Good girl.
And my laughter is replaced by a gasp as he penetrates me in one precise thrust.
- Ah yes! I moan, feeling my entire body shiver and liquid pleasure coursing through my bloodstream.
“Don't hold back, Miss Romanoff, I want to hear you scream,” he growls, thrusting so hard I'm thrown forward and my forehead hits the headboard.
Oh shit, it hurt, but who cares?
- Did it hurt? - Steve asks between groans and I turn my head to look at him with a mischievous smile.
“Don't even think about stopping.
He smiles back and pats my ass with one hand and caresses my clit with the other.
- I did not think…
I close my eyes and try not to hit the headboard again as the movements become stronger and cadenced, our bodies finding a rhythm so perfect that there's nothing left but pleasure.
And I melt beneath him, moaning aloud with the waves of a perfect climax that engulfs me completely. And my name on his lips as he comes inside me is the most incredible sound in the world.
It still takes some time before I can move. Steve tosses a shirt at me while pulling on pajama bottoms.
- Come on? — I complain.
- I need to feed you- he communicates heading towards the kitchen and I take the opportunity to dry his broad back.
"Um, I'm really starving now that you mention it!" — I enter the kitchen, which smells of spice and tomato sauce. - You cooked?
“I'm not entirely useless, for your information. He sets two plates on the table and serves me lasagna.
"I can't believe you cooked it!" I sit at the counter still a little surprised. After the disastrous episode in which I almost poisoned Barbara Bailey, I never thought about cooking at his house again. Whenever I visited, we ordered food.
I take a big forkful of lasagna to my mouth, sighing with pleasure.
— Okay, could just have a little more basil.
“I can bet your food is way better than mine, but you took too long to arrive. What were you doing? He sits across from me and pours two glasses of red wine.
— Working, man! I take one of the glasses.
Steve raises an eyebrow.
- So far?
“No, Steve, I was having sex with the night watchman!
Simon frowns. Okay, he really isn't in the mood for jokes involving sex with the bouncer.
— Were you at DBS until now? It's more than nine o'clock!
— I told you I was, what did you think I was doing?
- I do not know. Shopping. Doing the nail. Waxing, I don't know!
I laughed.
"I'm up to date with my waxing, okay?" — I blink maliciously. - Did you see.
“I'm still trying to figure out why you've been working so far.
— I lost track of time! I lean forward and he's now studying me with a frown. “Steve, I'm so excited about this project! You can not even imagine! For the first time I'm doing something really cool, you know? I feel motivated and important, doing exciting work!
Steve continues to stare at me silently. It seems that his mind is thinking about several things at the same time and that some of them are not cool at all.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Is it so hard to accept that I'm enjoying my work? You said yourself that I should take it more seriously, work hard, and…
He looks away, running his fingers through his hair.
He looks worried.
And even a little tired.
I frown, watching him more closely and noticing something I hadn't noticed in my arousal since I arrived. He's tense.
“Steve, what happened? “I'm starting to worry.
I don't think I've ever seen him like this.
Steve is a serious guy and even cold at times, but I never saw him like that, like he was cornered.
Yes, that's the word. Steve looks like an action movie character who has to decide which wire to cut so the bomb doesn't explode.
I can even imagine him like Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible, wearing that black outfit and…
“It's nothing,” he answers at last, forcing a smile.
“No, you're weird. Is it because of Erin's business? Look, I don't want to take her place or anything! I'm just enjoying working and, okay, I can't deny that without her around it's easier, but I know I just joined DBS and…
Steve holds my hand.
“Hey, forget about Erin.
"Are you really going to fire her?"
— The situation is a little more complicated.
- Like this?
- Do not worry. These are decisions I will have to make. — He eats again.
I bite my lip, wanting to ask him to share with me what's been troubling him. However, I already know Steve well enough to know that whatever is bothering him, he won't talk if he doesn't want to.
But I wanted him to talk. I wanted you to share everything with me.
- With the. He looks up and realizes I'm staring at him without eating.
“I'm done. I flash a hesitant smile.
I know that what we have is still very recent and full of questions and empty spaces. But there's nothing like time to turn these questions into answers and empty spaces into full ones.
Full of both of us.
It is all that I want.
'You haven't eaten anything!' – Steve complains. His plate, unlike mine, is empty.
“You eat too fast.
“I grew up with Sean. If I didn't eat fast, I wouldn't eat. He gets up taking the dishes.
- Like this?
“Sean was a chubby kid.
- Serious? But he's so fit!
— My father put him in soccer to exercise and he ended up taking a liking to it.
"And what kind of child were you?" I hug him around the waist.
“I was the one who knew from an early age what I wanted.
"And what did you want, Steve Rogers?"
“Conquering the world alone.
“That's so sexy! I smile and, standing on tiptoe, kiss her chin and touch her stomach, feeling the muscles move under my hands.
He dips his fingers into my hair, staring at me intensely.
"And what kind of child were you?"
"The one who didn't know, never wanted him."
he laughs.
'And now you know?'
- I want you.
- Just that?
'Now, this instant?' Yes, there is nothing I want more than you.
— And your life? Must want more than a guy like me.
I manage a smile, then I realize he's serious. He wants me to answer.
I remember our discussion. Of how I accused him of being a vicwent to work and he accused me of being the opposite.
I force my mind. What I want?
Since I laid eyes on him, I thought about nothing but having him for myself.
And now that I have it.
What more can I want?
Then I remember the heady feeling I felt today when I presented my project in the meeting room. How good I felt with the approving looks. Of how I spent hours involved in that work without seeing the time pass.
I almost understood Steve.
I look at him with an anxious smile.
— I want to love my job the way I loved it today. I want to feel motivated this way all the time, I want to do more and more and not stop until I'm proud of myself. I think you've corrupted me, Mr Rogers.
It's turning me into a mini Steve Rogers.
He smiled slowly.
“No, you're not a mini Steve Rogers. You are Natasha Romanoff.
Only. And I felt so damn proud of you today.
I feel my heart expand and a lump close up in my throat with emotion.
"And I promise you'll still be very proud of yourself."
I kiss him, because there's nothing I want more right now.
Show how happy I am that he's with me.
Man, I was the luckiest person in the entire world.
And when he leads me into the bedroom, I raise an eyebrow.
"Are you going to take me away later?"
He smiles as he takes my shirt off.
“I can make an exception for you today, Miss Romanoff.
"If I bring work home too, would you give me more nights?" Can we be workaholic together?
“I think it could be perfect.
- You are perfect.
- I know.
I clap his shoulder and he smiles, brushing a few strands of hair out of my face and what I see in his eyes makes me gasp.
“Fuck, I love you, Natasha Romanoff,” he says as if he's saying it to himself. As if he was saying a “fuck, I love you, now what?”.
And the worst part is that I understood.
Damn, I understood very well.
“I know, it sucks, huh? I whisper and he kisses me.
— What the hell? I will fuck you now.
“Best idea of the day.
"I really hope it is…"
***
The next morning, I wake up surrounded by Steve Rogers.
I smile as he gets up and turns off the alarm clock, asking in a morose morning mood that I get dressed, as he's going to call an Uber to take me home; so I can change and go to work without arousing suspicion.
I don't complain because he's right. I give up my urge to order a quickie and get dressed quickly. Steve walks me to the door and again I realize he's a little tense. Which reminds me that yesterday was too.
Before I can ask what the problem is, he kisses me. It's an intense kiss that leaves me dizzy and my heart pounding in my chest.
I lean my forehead against his, breathing in his presence and wanting to stay a little longer.
"Do we really have to go to work?"
“I thought you'd become a workaholic.
I let out a dismayed groan.
“I'd rather stay in bed with you all day.
— And what would we live on?
“We could scam old people on the internet.
He laughs and lets go of me, opening the door.
— See you at the company, okay?
“I love you,” I murmur before leaving, getting a wonderful smile in return. And I forget the awkward moment from before.
I had been worried for nothing. Everything was falling into place.
That's it: I have a fabulous job and an amazing fiancé.
What more could I want from life?
I'm practically one of those smirking ladies from a tampon commercial when I get to DBS (seriously, who's that happy on their period?).
But I should have known that if everything is wonderful, the Universe somehow conspires to fuck up our happiness.
And my smile fades as I walk into the DBS lobby and all eyes turn to me and then I see her.
Erin.
She's coming towards me with one leg in a cast up to her thigh and one arm in a cast, which she tries to use to gesture with, while the other arm holds her upright with the help of a crutch. And damn, she really looks like Chuck the killer doll, with that forehead sewn together. But with the body of a mummy.
And suddenly, I was transported from the fake tampon commercial to a scene from a bad horror movie.
- You! She waves the crutch at me. - You!
“Erin, you shouldn't be here…” I mutter, stunned.
- Why? Why did your lover fire me?
- Lover? – someone whispers. I think it's Benjamin.
My Our Lady Protector of Discreet Brides, help me!
“Yes, lover,” Erin calls out to anyone who will listen. — Natasha Romanoff is Steve Rogers' lover! Or should I say bride?
Oh shit.
Now she's gone for good.