“Maybe, but they don’t know me,” Natasha pointed out. They had possibly seen her come and go on occasion, but it wasn’t like she had attended any community functions or dinner parties.

The air was a bit chilly but she barely felt it with the sweater and Clint’s body heat keeping her warm. Cracking one eye open she looked at the candle still flickering on the coffee table before her eyes moved to the window where she saw only darkness without. Somehow in the midst of their passion the storm had passed over. It was still raining, the sound beating steadily against the roof, but it wasn’t as heavy as before and the accompanying thunder and lightening was over.

She closed her eyes again when Clint nuzzled against the back of her neck and stroked her hand softly. “You may have to let a professional cleaner at this couch after tonight,” she teased. Rubbing her foot down his leg she tangled them together until there was no space remaining between them.

Maybe she really could get used to this.