She scooted a little closer when he sat, placing a hand on the muscled thigh next to hers. "Might make it more believable though, right?" Not at all shy, Natalie leaned over and very delicately kissed Bucky's cheek, letting her lips linger. "Relax," she breathed at his ear. "Just let me touch you, okay?"
It was in his file that he'd been in an explosion overseas, resulting in his Purple Heart and honorable discharge from the Army Rangers, but also why he was so self-conscious about his body. The loss of his arm had been devastating, and the PTSD he now carried a direct result of it. If he really wanted this sort of intimacy, he was going to have to learn to accept it.
"You can touch me, too, James," she told him, smoothing her other hand through his dark hair. "Anywhere you want, baby."
Bucky hasn't been called "baby" by anyone in longer than he can remember - since before he went overseas, for sure - and it almost throws him for a loop before he realizes this is what he paid for. He paid for it to be natural and established so that no one would be the wiser when he went to the gala later on.
If he's going to do this, he's going to have to be comfortable touching her, and truthfully he does want to touch her. He skims his right hand down her back and slips it under her shirt just enough to let his palm touch bare skin. He doesn't move it any more, though, and just lets himself get comfortable.
A promising start, at least. Natalie smiled against Bucky's skin, teasing him a little with soft little kisses beneath his ear, down the slope of his jaw, and back up over his cheek. The hand on his thigh began to softly stroke, rubbing along the inseam of his jeans, while the other drifted gently over his shoulders, mapping out the defines muscles in his back.
"This is nice, da?" It was a sultry whisper, her nose nuzzling gently beneath his ear even as she moved sinuously under his hand, inviting him to take a little more. "Turn your head," she instructed quietly. "Let me kiss you, James." Because paid or not, she really wanted to.
Everything she's doing feels really good, actually, and while he's a little surprised she's initiating a kiss, this is what he's paid for right? To be natural. To feel real. He'd kiss his girlfriend if she was actually his girlfriend and honestly, if this was just a date and it went well, he'd kiss Natalie then too.
He turns his head and tries to let go of his anxiety about his arm and just enjoy himself for a little while. This is a woman who doesn't care about all that, that just wants to kiss him anyway.
So she shifted even closer, propping a knee on the mattress to get both of her arms around his thick neck, and tilted her head just before capturing his mouth with hers. Unsurprisingly, his mouth was soft, sweet, and deliciously kissable.
Taking even more initiative, Natalie maneuvered astride one hard thigh, her right hand slipping down the back of that metal arm and coaxing him to put it around her slender waist, too.
She didn't give him time to protest, sliding her tongue between his lips before he could, and licked at his lush lips. She knew she was soft, warm, and inviting; and the man in him wouldn't be able to resist for very long.
It surprises him that she slides her hand down his left arm like it's nothing, like it's just like the right, and guides it to wrap around her. He doesn't really have time to think about it before he's holding her in both arms and kissing her deeply, much more than he'd kiss someone for a first time.
But exactly the way you'd kiss your girlfriend, his mind supplies and that's true. The last time he'd had a relationship, it'd felt like this.
He slips his right hand up to cup the back of her head and holds it there while he deepens the kiss a little bit more.
So far, so good. She kissed him until she needed to break away for a quick breath of air, and smiled against Bucky's mouth. "...well," came her sultry drawl, followed by another soft, light kiss, "I think you and I are gonna get along just fine, baby."
Still seated astride his thigh, Natalie shifted a bit, giving the both of them just the tiniest bit of friction. "You wanna keep going and be fashionably late tonight, or is this is good stopping point?" Her lashes half-lowered as she amended, "...at least until later, da?"
"We should be on time," Bucky says, though there's a regretful note in his voice. He guesses it isn't going to be that difficult at all to do this as long as he turns his brain off and just stops overthinking it. He cups Natalie's cheek with his right hand.
"So I guess we can pick up later, if you're feeling up to it. I would say we should go late but Tony will be late so I should be there on time to represent the company in his stead."
"Fair enough." Natalie obligingly slid off of Bucky's lap, smoothly stepping over to her duffel to start laying out her things for the coming party. "If I'm posing as your girlfriend, we'll need to coordinate some details, too." Her smile flashed at the excitement of the clandestine.
"Like where we met, how long we've been dating, our favorite things to do together, that sort of stuff." She pulled out a slinky green gown, covered with sequins, and hung it on the top of the closet door. "Any ideas?"
Turning back to her duffel, she offered, "As for me, I'm Natalie Rushman, I'm originally from Los Angeles, but moved to New York to go to college for computer networking. That gives us somewhat of a common denominator, huh?"
"We met at a coffee shop, I think," Bucky says. It's a little boring but he thinks that he can work with it. "No, no, I've got it. You were dropping your friend off at the doctor and I was waiting for therapy. I was reading an engineering journal and you asked me about it - because of your degree. I got your number before you left and that's how we got together."
It seems natural enough, honestly, and therapy is the only place he really goes besides home and work - he even has his groceries delivered at this point. No time for anything else.
"You wouldn't even have to talk shop for that - you're in networking, not in engineering, so nobody would expect you to know what I'm going on about anyway other than broad strokes."
Pretending to consider, Natalie finally gave a nod, pulling a pair of white diamond heels out of their bag. "I like it," she approved, placing the shoes on the floor near the bed. "And I prefer tea over coffee, purple is my favorite color, I wear Chanel perfume, I bite my fingernails and can't carry a tune in a bucket." She laughed, admitting the last two.
Moving to the dresser, she began taking out her cosmetics and other ladies' paraphernalia, even flourishing the perfume bottle a little playfully. "See?" She sprayed her wrist lightly, then held it out for him to sniff. "You like?"
"We're not going to karaoke because I can't sing either," Bucky says, laughing softly. "And maybe you'll have something from Chanel show up in your bags."
When she offers her wrist for him to sniff, he inhales and it smells good. He's never really had an opinion on perfume before but Natalie's smells amazing and he's decided he'll buy her another bottle and slip it into her bag before she leaves.
Her eyebrows went up, but she shrugged nonchalant acquiescence; it wasn't her business what he spent his money on. Going back to her ablutions, she capped the bottle and set it aside, glancing up at him in the vanity mirror.
"So, care to return the favor? What are some little things I'd know about you, huh? Favorite color, favorite food, favorite movie, that sort of thing."
It'd be interesting, to see how many of his answers coincided with what she already knew.
"Favorite color is blue, favorite food is chocolate, and favorite movie is...well, it's hard to pick, but I'd have to say West Side Story. I like musicals. I know it's weird, I just have always liked them."
It had made him a very good dancer, at least.
"I like old music, I like playing it on a record player and not CDs, and I love to dance. Anything else you want to know?"
Well, they really were going to get along perfectly. Natasha made a mental note to give that idea a little more thought, but later. "Musicals aren't that bad," she told him, "and I love to dance, too. So we should impress tonight, right?" She'd studied ballet when she'd been younger, but in her teens had learned all of the ballroom-big-band dances, too, given the company she would be instructed to keep.
"So, I think we ought to do just fine," Natalie said with a small smile. Then turned and leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms lightly. "Now get outta here so I can shower and dress, unless you'd rather join me in the shower?" A teasing eyebrow went up at her invitation.
"Oh, uh, no...you feel free," Bucky says. He's a little shocked at the bold invitation but he guesses that's all part of the game. He is more than happy to use the other bathroom to get ready while Natalia uses his and gestures his hand toward his own.
"Go ahead, do what you need to do. I showered earlier so I just need to get dressed. Take as long as you need."
An hour and a half later, "Natalie Rushman" descended the stairs in Bucky's townhouse in her gleaming emerald gown, primped, pressed, and curled, looking every inch as if she absolutely belonged in Manhattan's high society. She held a small dark green clutch, her red curls swept to one side and cascaded down over her smooth, slender neck, and delicate emerald and gold earrings complemented the gold necklace and emerald teardrop resting at the hollow of her throat.
She knew she looked amazing, and she had a silent bet going with herself that her client would absolutely knock the socks off of any female lucky enough to get within a hundred yards tonight. Women, and probably a few men, too. But the afternoon had gone well, and she was absolutely looking forward to whatever the night might bring. ...unless it was an up-close and personal interlude with his post-war trauma, poor man.
Hopefully her presence would be enough of a palliative and keep him stable, at least until they arrived back at his place.
Bucky is finishing up with a cufflink when he steps out and sees Natalie and he drops the damn thing in shock. He's seen beautiful women before, of course, but beautiful women aren't normally going out with him. Nobody's going out with him because he doesn't let anyone within arms length of him and he doesn't have the time.
Natalie, though, doesn't have those barriers to cross. "Sorry, I dropped my cufflink...let me just," he bends down, retrieves it, and as he does he gets a look at her from the hem of the dress all the way up. It's enough to almost make him drop the cufflink again.
"Can you help me with it? I'm clumsy with my left hand. You look stunning, by the way."
Her perfect eyebrows flew up when she saw him drop the cufflink, but she carefully didn't laugh. Her lips did curve in quiet amusement, however, at his reaction to seeing her. Satisfying, that. A very good sign. She continued her slow pace down the stairs, coming up to him as he held out the small gold button to her.
"Of course." Taking the cufflink, Natalie carefully attached it to his shirtsleeve, automatically straightening it when she was done. "There. All done." Then she went up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, gazing at him with bright green eyes.
"Spasibo, by the way, for the compliment. Thank you." She eyed him boldly, flicking an imaginary mote from his shoulder. "You look good, too. 'Devastatingly handsome' about sums it up, I think."
"I don't think anyone has said that to me in longer than I remember. Thank you," Bucky says. He tugs a glove onto his left hand and leans in to kiss Natalie's cheek.
"I don't want to mess up your makeup but I wanted to kiss you so that's the compromise. I think the car's out front. I need to warn you first, though. I don't...it happened when I was in a humvee, you know? So I don't like riding in cars. I usually just use my motorcycle but I can't for this so I'm going to be uncomfortable. It's not because you're doing anything wrong, okay? It's just me."
He leaned towards her and Natalie offered her cheek, lashes drifting closed to smell his clean skin and cologne. It surprised her, though, when he offered details about his accident right up front, and she couldn't help but be touched. Maybe the man really was working through his PTSD as hard as he could.
"It's okay, James." She reached for his left hand with her right, pressing their palms together, warm skin to cool leather. "I'll be with you the entire time, and we'll be okay, da?" A pause at the door to adjust his jacket and for her to swirl her matching shawl over her bare shoulders, then the chauffer was bidding them both a good evening and holding open the door to the sleek white limousine.
It wasn't the first one she'd ever ridden in, and Natalie slid right over, arranging her dress like a pro, and once more reached for Bucky's left hand when he joined her and the door closed. "I brought more lipstick with me," she told him in her husky, low voice, and delicately placed fingers against his chin to turn his head to her. A kiss awaited, his mouth just as delicious as before, and Natalie didn't even realize they'd pulled away from the curb and into traffic until they were halfway to Stark Enterprises.
Bucky knows he's going to be wearing her color when the kiss ends but he doesn't really care about that. What he does care about is how good it feels to kiss a woman and spend time with her, to feel special to someone, and he feels special to Natalie right now. He cups her shoulder gently with his right hand to keep it from wandering anywhere else and other than coming up for air a few times, he doesn't stop kissing her until the driver says they're at their stop. Oh. He hadn't even noticed the drive.
He pulls away and brushes his thumb just beneath Natalie's lower lip. "You'd better fix your lipstick and get it off my face because I'm not sure it's fashionable for me to walk in wearing it."
She laughed, the low sound wicked in the dimness of their backseat, and handed him a makeup wipe from her clutch. "Here, this'll help." Then she fixed her own face in a matter of seconds, an old hand with touchups on the fly. In less than a minute, she appeared just as perfect as before, and had her "working" smile in place when the chauffer opened the door.
Taking the offered hand, Natalie stepped out, adjusted her shawl, and waited for Bucky, a little disappointed that she didn't have enough time to put a few marks on that thick neck before they'd arrived. He'd look mighty fine with a few hickys, and it'd help sell their cover further, too.
But, perhaps later, because right now was for taking his offered arm and letting him lead her inside, amid all the glitz and glamor of a Stark gala, the ballroom already nicely crowded even at this early hour.
It is already crowded even though Tony wouldn't show up until at least two hours in and Bucky barely hits the door before people are crowding in to see him. He gets questions about Natalie and fields them as best he can, using his "I'm making a presentation to investors," smile to its full advantage. When he finally gets a moment to break away, he slips his arm around Natalie's waist.
"I'm beginning to think I'm not going to get a chance to have a drink or get to dance. Do you want to go with me to the bar and see if we can at least get some champagne out of this?"
It was startling to see just how popular Barnes really was in this company. From the moment they hit the door, he was surrounded by people, and even she could admit that he needed a breather. When he finally got the chance to talk to her, sliding his arm around her waist, she took full advantage and abruptly towed him off towards the far end of the room.
"Yes," she agreed with a light laugh, ducking behind a few tables and columns to stay out of direct line of sight. "Good God, and we haven't even made it all the way across the room yet." Her lips twitched, bemused. "I'm starting to get why you work from home, James. Do they mob you like this at the office, too?"
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It was in his file that he'd been in an explosion overseas, resulting in his Purple Heart and honorable discharge from the Army Rangers, but also why he was so self-conscious about his body. The loss of his arm had been devastating, and the PTSD he now carried a direct result of it. If he really wanted this sort of intimacy, he was going to have to learn to accept it.
"You can touch me, too, James," she told him, smoothing her other hand through his dark hair. "Anywhere you want, baby."
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If he's going to do this, he's going to have to be comfortable touching her, and truthfully he does want to touch her. He skims his right hand down her back and slips it under her shirt just enough to let his palm touch bare skin. He doesn't move it any more, though, and just lets himself get comfortable.
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"This is nice, da?" It was a sultry whisper, her nose nuzzling gently beneath his ear even as she moved sinuously under his hand, inviting him to take a little more. "Turn your head," she instructed quietly. "Let me kiss you, James." Because paid or not, she really wanted to.
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He turns his head and tries to let go of his anxiety about his arm and just enjoy himself for a little while. This is a woman who doesn't care about all that, that just wants to kiss him anyway.
"Please?"
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Taking even more initiative, Natalie maneuvered astride one hard thigh, her right hand slipping down the back of that metal arm and coaxing him to put it around her slender waist, too.
She didn't give him time to protest, sliding her tongue between his lips before he could, and licked at his lush lips. She knew she was soft, warm, and inviting; and the man in him wouldn't be able to resist for very long.
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But exactly the way you'd kiss your girlfriend, his mind supplies and that's true. The last time he'd had a relationship, it'd felt like this.
He slips his right hand up to cup the back of her head and holds it there while he deepens the kiss a little bit more.
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Still seated astride his thigh, Natalie shifted a bit, giving the both of them just the tiniest bit of friction. "You wanna keep going and be fashionably late tonight, or is this is good stopping point?" Her lashes half-lowered as she amended, "...at least until later, da?"
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"So I guess we can pick up later, if you're feeling up to it. I would say we should go late but Tony will be late so I should be there on time to represent the company in his stead."
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"Like where we met, how long we've been dating, our favorite things to do together, that sort of stuff."
She pulled out a slinky green gown, covered with sequins, and hung it on the top of the closet door. "Any ideas?"
Turning back to her duffel, she offered, "As for me, I'm Natalie Rushman, I'm originally from Los Angeles, but moved to New York to go to college for computer networking. That gives us somewhat of a common denominator, huh?"
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It seems natural enough, honestly, and therapy is the only place he really goes besides home and work - he even has his groceries delivered at this point. No time for anything else.
"You wouldn't even have to talk shop for that - you're in networking, not in engineering, so nobody would expect you to know what I'm going on about anyway other than broad strokes."
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Moving to the dresser, she began taking out her cosmetics and other ladies' paraphernalia, even flourishing the perfume bottle a little playfully. "See?" She sprayed her wrist lightly, then held it out for him to sniff. "You like?"
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When she offers her wrist for him to sniff, he inhales and it smells good. He's never really had an opinion on perfume before but Natalie's smells amazing and he's decided he'll buy her another bottle and slip it into her bag before she leaves.
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"So, care to return the favor? What are some little things I'd know about you, huh? Favorite color, favorite food, favorite movie, that sort of thing."
It'd be interesting, to see how many of his answers coincided with what she already knew.
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It had made him a very good dancer, at least.
"I like old music, I like playing it on a record player and not CDs, and I love to dance. Anything else you want to know?"
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"So, I think we ought to do just fine," Natalie said with a small smile. Then turned and leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms lightly. "Now get outta here so I can shower and dress, unless you'd rather join me in the shower?" A teasing eyebrow went up at her invitation.
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"Go ahead, do what you need to do. I showered earlier so I just need to get dressed. Take as long as you need."
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She knew she looked amazing, and she had a silent bet going with herself that her client would absolutely knock the socks off of any female lucky enough to get within a hundred yards tonight. Women, and probably a few men, too. But the afternoon had gone well, and she was absolutely looking forward to whatever the night might bring. ...unless it was an up-close and personal interlude with his post-war trauma, poor man.
Hopefully her presence would be enough of a palliative and keep him stable, at least until they arrived back at his place.
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Natalie, though, doesn't have those barriers to cross. "Sorry, I dropped my cufflink...let me just," he bends down, retrieves it, and as he does he gets a look at her from the hem of the dress all the way up. It's enough to almost make him drop the cufflink again.
"Can you help me with it? I'm clumsy with my left hand. You look stunning, by the way."
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"Of course." Taking the cufflink, Natalie carefully attached it to his shirtsleeve, automatically straightening it when she was done. "There. All done." Then she went up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, gazing at him with bright green eyes.
"Spasibo, by the way, for the compliment. Thank you." She eyed him boldly, flicking an imaginary mote from his shoulder. "You look good, too. 'Devastatingly handsome' about sums it up, I think."
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"I don't want to mess up your makeup but I wanted to kiss you so that's the compromise. I think the car's out front. I need to warn you first, though. I don't...it happened when I was in a humvee, you know? So I don't like riding in cars. I usually just use my motorcycle but I can't for this so I'm going to be uncomfortable. It's not because you're doing anything wrong, okay? It's just me."
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"It's okay, James." She reached for his left hand with her right, pressing their palms together, warm skin to cool leather. "I'll be with you the entire time, and we'll be okay, da?" A pause at the door to adjust his jacket and for her to swirl her matching shawl over her bare shoulders, then the chauffer was bidding them both a good evening and holding open the door to the sleek white limousine.
It wasn't the first one she'd ever ridden in, and Natalie slid right over, arranging her dress like a pro, and once more reached for Bucky's left hand when he joined her and the door closed. "I brought more lipstick with me," she told him in her husky, low voice, and delicately placed fingers against his chin to turn his head to her. A kiss awaited, his mouth just as delicious as before, and Natalie didn't even realize they'd pulled away from the curb and into traffic until they were halfway to Stark Enterprises.
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He pulls away and brushes his thumb just beneath Natalie's lower lip. "You'd better fix your lipstick and get it off my face because I'm not sure it's fashionable for me to walk in wearing it."
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Taking the offered hand, Natalie stepped out, adjusted her shawl, and waited for Bucky, a little disappointed that she didn't have enough time to put a few marks on that thick neck before they'd arrived. He'd look mighty fine with a few hickys, and it'd help sell their cover further, too.
But, perhaps later, because right now was for taking his offered arm and letting him lead her inside, amid all the glitz and glamor of a Stark gala, the ballroom already nicely crowded even at this early hour.
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"I'm beginning to think I'm not going to get a chance to have a drink or get to dance. Do you want to go with me to the bar and see if we can at least get some champagne out of this?"
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"Yes," she agreed with a light laugh, ducking behind a few tables and columns to stay out of direct line of sight. "Good God, and we haven't even made it all the way across the room yet." Her lips twitched, bemused. "I'm starting to get why you work from home, James. Do they mob you like this at the office, too?"
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