Once inside the tiny stall, Natasha impatiently counted down the seconds until she heard that familiar rap upon the door. Flipping the lock, she stood back to leave room for Clint to squeeze himself in. He looked flustered, a little edgy, but she knew exactly how to take that edge off.

Pressing herself against him, she kissed him long and slow, exploring his mouth with her tongue and threading her fingers through his hair. They couldn’t exactly take their time in here, but it had been hours since she’d kissed him properly, and there was always time for one kiss.

“Mm, very good boy,” she spoke against his lips, dropping her hands down between them to undo his belt and the fastens on his jeans.