A/N: This chapter deals with Natasha and Thor, and has references to Nat's backstory, in which underage and not entirely consensual sex are mentioned, though there's nothing explicit. Hope you enjoy the chapter! I've had this one planned for quite some time ;]
She worked to keep the situation as contained as possible, not wanting Loki to become too involved in it all. "Their" time though it might have been, it was still her profession that they were talking about, and he didn't need to know, nor have the right to know, just what it would take for her to get out of Emma's contract. She had another plan in store for doing that. Thor, on the other hand, was a topic she needed to speak to him about now that she'd come out with it.
"I'm going to tell him within the week," she decided after thinking about it for a little while. "I need to. He was one of my first friends when I moved here, and I owe him that much."
Loki nodded, not fighting her on it, and for that she was thankful. At least he was understanding. "Have you lived in New York all of your life, and just came to the city, then? I can't remember Thor bringing you up more than in the past, oh, two years or so?"
Three, she hoped. But Thor had talked about her? How much of a description had he given? Her stomach tightened to think that Loki knew exactly who she was, and exactly how she fit into Thor's life when he'd first hired her. If he'd had a description of what she'd looked like, then when she'd met him before wouldn't it have made sense, for him, to have tried her on to see what it was she could do? Outside of friendship, obviously?
And had he been finding out the dark secrets of her life in order to expose them to Thor before they'd gotten caught up in this whole contract business?
She snapped herself out of these thoughts. Those were for when she was alone, able to separate the details to see for herself just where it was that she and Loki stood, rather than when she was sitting not twenty feet from him, mulling over the past with a mug of tea in her hand.
"No," she said, and her words sounded automatic, but this wasn't a story that she wanted him to know, either. "I moved to New York City three years ago. I interviewed for Emma, then happened to meet Thor at the supermarket. I got the news shortly after that I was hired on."
He arched a brow, curiosity making his eyes brighten. "So you've always known you wanted to be a call girl?"
She tried not to snort. Oh please, he was just reaching now. "No, but I like sex, I'm good at it, and I'm shit with relationships. So I figured it was like having a bunch of boyfriends without any of the actual commitment."
There. She had it out with him now, he knew why they would never work out, and she could see on his face that he was taken aback by her answer. What had he expected? They all had their reasons for getting into the business, hers were just less . . . personal than others. Or at least that was as far as he was going to know.
"Are you being intentionally evasive?" he asked, and though he framed it like a joking question her skin prickled.
"Are you grilling me for a reason?" Her past was her own, and if she felt like talking about it with him, she'd have done it already. Her question took him by surprise enough to stun him out of retorting, his brow furrowing before he let loose a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound as though I doubt you."
Except that it did.
"Some habits die hard, I suppose."
"What, of asking invasive questions of the people you ask to stay the night?" Her words were biting, but she couldn't help it. She'd pull it together from then on, but really? It bothered her that he seemed to think he had a right to that information. If she felt comfortable enough to share then she would. Thor was one thing, but sharing things with Loki? Personal stories and explanations? It was a bit much given how short of a time span she'd known him.
And how much could she really know him, anyway? She only stayed with him when he wanted her to, when he was prepared. Honestly, he could've been a crazy axe murderer who put his insanity away when she was nearby, which would've been romantic in the most perverse of ways if she didn't have the image of him coming after her if she ever decided to break their contract.
"Distrusting people."
Well, she knew a hell of a lot about that, but he didn't see her questioning every motive and every moment, did he? She let her face soften, though. Let him think he had her sympathy, but never her pity. It would only make things easier in the long run, really. "You've had a lot of experience with it, have you?"
"More than any child should."
Well wasn't that vague? Still, she knew the highlights of the story so she supposed there was no reason to rehash it or force him to go over it again. She, unlike some people, didn't push things, and hoped that he'd see that and emulate it. He certainly didn't push the topic any further, settling back to grab a bottle of water from the small refrigerator in the mini-kitchen of their suite. She hadn't even known they made kitchenettes in hotels, but she supposed when people could afford to live in such a place it made sense.
Not that she cooked all that much, but Loki liked to, if she remembered the first evening they had together correctly. But it didn't matter, given that they were staying in a hotel. That's what he ordered room service for, right? She ignored the way her gut twisted at the bill he was racking up. He wanted her company, wanted her there with him for three days a week, so if he was willing to pay for it she didn't need to be guilty, right?
For the rest of the weekend she tried to stick with that, to ignore the guilt that came to settle when he'd order them food, or a dirty movie for them to watch and make fun of. He didn't bring up Pietro, or them working together, and she didn't bring up his issues with being unable to trust anyone. The contract came up once again, but only in the form of him offering to take a look at it. She respectfully declined, and they moved on from there. She called it a successful weekend by the time she left late Sunday night and he didn't fight it. She'd need to find more things for them to do, outings even, once Thor knew about them and she wouldn't have to be so paranoid about him discovering them. There'd been a couple of moments when he'd called Loki to speak to him about business, and Nat had chomped down on her bottom lip to keep from saying anything. Over the phone was not the way she was going to do this, but getting the nerve to actually tell him, in person? That was going to be rough.
So she'd texted him, invited him to go out to drinks Monday night (given that her Monday was, unusually enough, empty) and they could talk. She didn't hint what about, sure he already had a good idea, and tried to let that be the end of the matter.
It didn't make sleeping Sunday night, or finding something to do Monday, any easier. Her stomach gnawed itself from the inside out during her waking hours, and her dreams were fitful and the sleep unfulfilling when she tried to nap to catch up on the hours she'd missed. She took a dirty book to bed with her, forefinger and middle finger sliding over her clit vigorously to try and at least enjoy herself in the meantime, but found a climax wasn't going to happen anytime soon, which only left her more keyed up than before. It was a good thing she didn't have any clients, she wasn't so sure she could focus on anything other than her anxiety.
By the time six o'clock arrived she'd gone through half a dozen outfit choices, not wanting to look too sexed up, or too plain that it seemed like she didn't care what she looked like. She did, and it had always been so effortless before but now? Now she felt like everything was riding on this going well, and she wanted to look good, powerful, confident, without being too overbearing. The black skirt and striped top she decided on would work, and she ran her hands through her hair to comb it out, keeping her make up light. The cab she called for was right on time, and she was at the bar down in Brooklyn a good twenty minutes early. Rather than calling him and letting him know she just headed inside. How was it that she'd managed to get away without thinking in the past? Now it was all she could do to try and shut off her brain for a couple minutes, let alone for the whole evening. The bar wasn't packed, at least, and Nat found a small, concealed table near the far end of the room that had a good view of the door so she'd be able to see when Thor came in and decide for the last moment if she needed to bolt or not. A waitress came to take her order, though she stuck with a beer for the time being. It wouldn't get her drunk, just take the edge off, and though her stomach wasn't entirely up to eating she placed an order for fries, too. It'd give her something to do, at least.
She'd left her phone, face up, on the table to keep from looking too ridiculous when she kept checking the time, able to be far more subtle about it when it was right in front of her rather than reaching into her purse every five seconds, and the screen lit up with a text from Thor assuring her he was nearly there.
She wished it would've helped her calm down, but it only amped the anxiety up further. The beer tasted sour in her mouth but she chugged half of it without taking a breath, grateful for at least having something else to do other than wait. By the time Thor had gotten there she'd polished the first off, half of the order of fries, and was well onto her second beer. He looked across the bar when he stepped inside, brushing his wet hair out of his face from the rain that must've started, and when his eyes locked onto Natasha's his face softened with a grin. She tried to return it, though it felt awkward on her lips and she distracted herself by looking back down at her phone. He was fifteen minutes early. Was he as nervous about this as she was?
"Hey, you look good," he complimented, stepping closer to sit beside her and pressing his lips to her temples. It was a familiar enough gesture that had her stomach flopping.
She smiled as he took his seat. "Thanks, so do you." He always did. His broad figure filled out his black on black suit well, and while Loki exuded cool craftiness in his suit, a mystery wrapped in well tailored fabric, Thor oozed confidence and power, even without having to throw his weight around. He wasn't a man that you wanted on the opposing side, and she hoped she'd never find out what that felt like.
They exchanged small talk that felt stunted and deformed as Thor ordered a whiskey on the rocks, groaning that he hated Mondays, and that the merger they were working on was taking up way too much of his time. "It was all so much easier when I could just pretend to do work and get away with it," he teased her with a wink after taking a sip of his drink. Nat had since polished off the second beer, but didn't order a third. She needed to slow down.
She nudged him, rolling her eyes. "C'mon, Thor. I can't imagine you wouldn't be able to push it along further. You're the son of the CEO."
He pouted. "Turns out that only gets you so far. Too bad, right?"
She snorted. Yeah, too bad. It was an easy segue to get to talking about Loki, the topic already open and on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't do it. The words weren't coming, the topic wouldn't be broached. She'd laid with his brother not forty-eight hours ago, and she couldn't bring it up to him, her best friend. Her hands twisted and her gaze lowered to the roughly sanded table, wondering whether or not Lauren still loved AJ as the carving in the far side of the table suggested.
"We don't have to talk about your work if you don't want to."
Thor's voice snapped her out of her head, and she looked up at him, her brow furrowing. "We don't?"
He shook his head. "I'm not going to make you tell me more than you're comfortable with. I thought about it, and yeah, I'm not gonna pretend that it didn't hurt that you lied to me. It did. But if you're not comfortable coming out with what it is you do I can't force you to tell me. I won't."
He'd stopped wearing his engagement ring, she noticed, as he took her hands in his and squeezed. His blue eyes were kind, understanding, and it was like her tongue had unraveled itself as the words spewed forth. "I started long before I met you, honestly. It was why I left Russia." Oh, shit. This wasn't what she had meant to tell him. Now that she'd started, though, stopping wasn't an option. "I grew up in an orphanage ever since I can remember, my parents having died shortly after I was born. It wasn't comfortable, and I never got adopted, but the way that the Madam who ran the orphanage saw it if you were living there, you were using up valuable space, food, and a bed. So, as a way to make up for what I owed her . . . I was told that either I could get a factory job, working well over 40 hours a week along with my schooling for minimum pay, or I could find other, less legal means of earning money. She ran a business of her own on the side-I mean, when you have unimpeded access to girls as they get older, before they age out of the system, why not?" She tried for a small laugh that sounded more like firewood breaking than anything resembling humor. Thor's eyes were wide but he kept quiet. She appreciated that, because apparently she wasn't going to finish telling him everything anytime soon. "I tried the factory job when I was 15, after I ran away from the orphanage. It didn't end well, and a man named Alexei brought me back. One of the girls at the orphanage, Yelena, took me under her wing. Taught me everything she knew. She was two years older than I was, and she'd been working for the Madam as soon as she was old enough, too. I don't know how I would've made it without her, really. She slipped me vodka for my first time. It helped-with everything, you know?" She pursed her lips, looking down. Her nails had dug grooves into the wood of the table, and with some effort she released it. "And more than my mentor she was my friend. She, and Alexei, one of the boys who I'd met at school. He and Yelena were close, and they were two of my firsts that I-that I wanted."
She had to blink quickly, chewing on the inside of her cheek to give herself something else to focus on. The pain, present and real, brought with it the taste of blood to her tongue, and helped distract her from the past. He'd wanted to know, so he was going to hear it. "Even after Yelena turned 18 she wasn't, really, able to leave. She'd earned a reputation for herself that would've gone with her wherever she went. Besides, as Madam B understood it, Yelena hadn't paid off her debt yet. I knew that if I didn't get out of the country I'd be going down the same road as she did, that I'd never get to choose for myself, and for six years I told myself that as soon as I could I was getting out of there. For my 22nd birthday, Alexei found me some papers to get me out of the country, and while he and Yelena ran away to Europe to get married I came here. I had just interviewed for Eve Services the afternoon before I met you, and before you ask me why I didn't try to do something else . . . I didn't have any other skills. I knew what I could do, what I was good at doing." She gave a dry laugh. "And honestly it was a stop gap measure to make the bills, most of my money having gone to finding an apartment and buying food. I knew I could make more on my back than on my feet as a waitress, or doing something else, and now? I get to call my own shots, I decide which clients I want, and I like it. Hell, I like sex as much as the next girl, but I like it even more now that I can say yes, and more importantly now that I can say no."
She fell silent, her throat burning from having spoken so much, and she murmured an excuse to head to the bar to get another drink, their waitress preoccupied with another table. It was fine, really. She needed the air, needed to get away from his pitying gaze. She'd never told anyone what it was that she'd done in Russia, didn't know what it was about Thor that she'd told him then. It would make people look at her differently, make them second guess her character. If she'd been used at such a young age, how could she possibly enjoy sex ever again? Let alone make a living off of it?
But that had been what Yelena, and Alexei, had taught her. She waited on her vodka martini and thought about them. She hadn't heard anything from them since she'd left, wondered how it was they were, but had no idea how to go about finding them. Facebook might've been an option, but for all she knew they could've changed their names. She'd changed hers. Natalia Romanova had died on that plane to the United States, and Natasha Romanoff had taken her place, stepping out onto the free soil of La Guardia.
She thanked the bartender and tipped him handsomely when he slid the drink her way, Nat sipping at it as she turned and slowly made her way back. Thor looked deep in thought, and she recognized the look as the one he made when he was trying to think up something to say without sounding like too much of an idiot. As she sat down next to him he opened his mouth, and she smiled and shook her head.
"You don't have to apologize. It's good to get this out in the open. To talk about it." At least she was guessing it was. Right then she couldn't feel much past the shock that she'd actually done it.
"I wasn't-well maybe I should have. I was going to say that you're so much stronger than anyone has ever given you credit for."
She nearly cracked her neck from the strength of the double take she did as she looked back over to him. Her, strong? A survivor, yes. Sneaky, cunning, quick-tongued and witted, yes. But strong? It didn't compute, and her brain felt as though it was actually sizzling in her skull as she tried to process what he'd meant by it.
He laughed at her expression, which she was sure was akin to being struck dumb, and shook his head. "Don't look at me like that. I mean it. You've been through so much and you're still here. You're still trying. That's a damn miracle, Tasha."
If he said so. But there was some truth to his words, this she knew. It was a miracle she'd survived this long, that she'd managed to become a legitimate United States citizen, That she'd gotten out of the Red Room at all, never to see Madam B or the horrible men that she had the girls parade in front of. Yes, that was a miracle, and maybe it was that she was drunk on his praise, or the liquor, but she leaned in to kiss him. She'd always wanted to know what it would feel like if she was honest with herself. Once she realized she could want a man, and that she had every right to her own sexuality, Thor had been the first she'd openly fantasized about, excluding Yelena and Alexei, of course. But she'd been able to be with them. Thor had always been too far off, on the distant shores of committed relationship and monogamy, right off the coast of best friend isle. Now he was in her waters, single, gorgeous, and she was definitely saying yes if he was.
That he returned the kiss with just as much passion told her he wasn't about to say no.
Her apartment was closest, and they'd hardly made it through the door before their lips met again, Thor leaning down to keep it going as long as they possibly could, his suit jacket fell to the ground in a heavy thud, soaked from the continuing rain. The press of his body against hers kept her warm, the shivers that had her skin rising with goosebumps coming from the sheer thrill of his skin against hers. Her fingers worked furiously at the buttons of his shirt as he untucked her sweater and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it away. Her nipples hardened against the thin fabric of her bra, and she groaned as his hands cupped them through the fabric. His thumbs rubbed against the hardened, sensitive flesh and it was like he had a damn shortcut to everything that aroused her. The scrape of his beard against her jaw as he mouthed his way down the column of her throat stole her breath and she could hardly think further than 'more' as she shoved his button up off, then ripped his undershirt down the middle so she could slide it off his powerful arms. He grinned against her skin, body trembling with a deep laugh, as his hands left her breasts to undo the zipper down the back of her skirt. She shimmied out of it, and Thor didn't bother waiting to pull her panties off, simply pushed them aside and pressed one, then a second, finger inside her. Her spine stiffened, mouth falling open, and she hiked a leg around his waist to draw him closer.
He hefted her up into his arms, sitting her on the kitchen counter so he could get a better angle. The noises coming from her mouth didn't sound human, or familiar in any stretch of the imagination, as he pressed his fingertips against her g-spot. The pressure was all too much and had her shuddering and coming in his grip even before he'd gotten his pants and boxers off, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as she clung to him. Her head hit the cabinet behind her as Thor eased his fingers from inside her, replacing them with his cock half a heartbeat later, and she had just enough cognisance to look down at him to watch as he eased into her. If she wasn't feeling it at that moment she wouldn't have thought it'd fit, and it was a sight to behold as he slid himself to the hilt inside of her, a soft hiss leaving his mouth. Nat's hands left his shoulders to unhook her bra, and pulled him closer against her as she rocked her hips against his, wanting to feel every stretch of skin underneath hers. He was more than happy to acquiesce, pupils blown to high hell as he stared at her. His skin looked like melted gold, the muscles shifting with shocking ease, as he held her in place and slowly fucked into her, his cock hitting every perfect point in her body. She could do little more than grunt and groan, huffing as he started to pick up the pace.
Thor's lips pressed to hers once again, one of his hands cupping her left breast as his right hand left bruises on her hips from gripping her so tightly she thought she'd never be free from feeling it. The perfect edge of pain and pleasure set her off once more, but Thor didn't finish until they'd moved from the kitchen to the bedroom, all but fucking her through the mattress before he reached his climax. Natasha had lost count of how many she'd had in the meantime, Thor switching things up until the evening had melted into sensation and pure, unadulterated pleasure.
When he came it was with a shout she felt in her bones, his hands gripping the headboard of her bed, her legs wrapped tight around him so that she could feel every shudder and shake of his form as he squeezed his eyes tight. With little more than light from the window he was a sight to behold, the muscle of his frame taut, his eyes almost a translucent blue when he opened them to once more stare down at her, and she felt her heart catch in her throat as his body relaxed and he leaned down to kiss her slowly on the lips. She wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him against her, and when he rolled them both onto their sides she found it easy to sleep with the steady thump of his heart echoing in her ears.