"They're pretty bad, aren't they?" Clint agrees. He picks his beer back up only to find that he's drank all over it. Shrugging, he sets the bottle aside and drops his hand to her hip. He's still not making any real moves, just establishing closeness at this point. "I'm sure that the public will come up with something worse than anything I can come up with." It'll probably be something like Claisy and have nothing to do with their alter egos.
"So, we've established that we don't like fancy bars, and that neither of us really likes spending time out in the public. So, if we were to have a second date, what would you want to do? It's only fair that you plan it, you know, since I came up with this idea," he teases. He knows full well that he'd barely come up with anything, just conveniently had a rooftop garden to use and beers in the fridge.
She sets her empty drink beside his before turning more into the embrace, fully facing him now. Her hands move to rest on his upper arms, her thumbs gently tracing the muscles she can feel beneath his shirt. It feels right to be this close to him, and she's sure that should scare her — but it doesn't.
"Well," she says, drawing the word out while tilting her head to the side in exaggerated consideration, "I think maybe a movie night. Not actually going to a theater, but getting takeout and watching something at my place or yours. I love going to the movies, don't get me wrong, but I'd much rather see what kind of commentary you can come up with."
Hopefully, he's not someone who would never dare talk during a movie.
When Daisy turns toward him, Clint's other hand comes up to circle her other hip, hands loose and casual, but still keeping her close. He wants badly to kiss her, but he's going to wait. As good as things are going right now, it would be so easy to mess them up. He leans his back against the railing instead, and grins at her.
"You got more plans tonight?" he asks. "Because if not, we can have that second date right now." He's been thinking ab out getting a projector for movie nights on the roof, but he hasn't yet, so they'll have to make do with his tv and couch. If she wants to stay, at least.
For just a moment, Daisy tries to talk sense into herself. Going right into the 'second date' has to be a bad idea. She should make up an excuse to end the evening and give herself time to sort out... something. Emotions and the like. Right? But the moment passes and she doesn't want that time. What she wants is to live in this moment and embrace it fully, because she knows all too well how precious time can be for people like them.
"I'm all yours, Hawkguy," she assures him, wondering if she means that in more ways than one. Sliding her hands up to his shoulders, she hesitates briefly and then smiles expectantly. "But if we're ending our first date, don't you think you should kiss me goodnight before we start the second?"
It's a surprise to him when Daisy agrees. She wants to keep spending time together, and Clint is feeling pretty good about how the night is going. He's told her things that he's never told any of his other dates before, but she gets it. She knows what it's like to be targeted, to have to fight. She gets it more than anyone else would, so he feels comfortable with what he's shared with her so far.
"All mine, hmm?" he teases. Clint brings his hands around and links them at the small of her back. "I guess you should probably sample the goods, make sure that a second date is a good idea," he teases, but then immediately leans in to press his lips to hers.
The kiss isn't necessarily chaste, but he does keep it sweet and simple. Daisy's lips are soft, and she tastes like the beer they'd been drinking, but that's not something that bothers Clint at all. He pulls away and smiles at her, "so, we good to keep dating, or do you need another sample?"
When Daisy wants something, she's all in, and with each passing minute, she's finding that what she wants is Clint Barton. She wants the way she feels safe with him, not only physically but emotionally. She wants the intimacy of having someone who understands and won't judge you for the things you're not proud of. She wants what FitzSimmons have, and as crazy as it sounds, she thinks she might be able to find that with this man she's just met but has known for a decade.
"It never hurts to be sure," she murmurs with her own smile before hooking a hand around the back of his neck and rising up on her toes to meet him. The second kiss is definitely not chaste — she makes it very clear that she's interested while she drinks in the warmth and taste of him. His pulse has sped up a little; she can feel it matching her own and she never wants to forget how it dances across her senses.
Clint isn't quite ready for their second kiss, but he gets with the program pretty quickly. He kisses Daisy back, opening his mouth to her and drawing her in. It's really good, and it feels so natural to kiss her. Not for the first time tonight, Clint thinks that Coulson was probably right, that he should be thinking about finding someone to settle down with again. He's starting to hope that person might be Daisy.
They don't part right away, instead kissing each other on his little rooftop, faces lit up by the New York lights above them. Clint brings his hands up her back, wanting to touch her everywhere that he can reach. When they finally do part, Clint doesn't pull back too far. "Well, I'm convinced. Looking forward to the goodnight kiss after our second date now."
This part of the getting-to-know-you process is easy. There's no question that they click, no doubt that this part of the relationship might not work. She loses herself in the feel of him, the weight of his hands on her body, the curves of his mouth, the vibration that is uniquely him. All of it is slowly committed to memory as the seconds tick by.
She can't but laugh, her voice a little thicker from the effect he's had on her. "Has anyone ever told you you're kind of a dork?" Said with warm affection, of course, as her hands frame his jaw. "I guess it's probably part of the whole dad package."
"What? No, no one's ever said that to me." It's a lie, clearly, from the small smile on his face while he says it. "But really, I think becoming a dad just gave me an excuse to embrace it. I've always been a bit dorky. I mean, who chooses archery as a passion?" he laughs.
They're still so close though, and Daisy has been pretty clear already about what she wants, so he leans in again. Their mouths connect again, but there's nothing hesitant about this kiss. Clint tips Daisy's head back so that he can lick into her mouth, presses their bodies together. It's fine if they don't go any further than this, tonight, but he likes knowing that she wants him just as much as he wants her.
Daisy would never openly acknowledge it, but dorks are kind of her thing. Given all the pain and betrayal she's suffered over the years, she's found herself gravitating toward people who make her feel safe, and no one makes her feel safer than Coulson, who is the king of dorks in her life. So for Clint to have even the slightest hint of dork in his personality elevates him higher in her estimation.
She leans into that kiss, one hand combing fingers through his short hair while her other arm wraps around his back, anchoring him to her. A delicious fire kindles within her and she realizes she'd forgotten what it feels like to be at the start of something. The newness, the excitement, the way everything sparks with passion. She doesn't want to let go, as evidenced by the quiet moan that fills the space between them.
Clint hears that soft noise and it just makes him kiss her more. Finally, when he needs to break away so that he can breathe. "Daisy," he murmurs, lips still pressed against hers. "I want to keep kissing you, but we really should head inside." There's no reason not to keep kissing once they're inside, after all. Inside is an ideal location for kissing and anything else kissing might lead to.
It's also where the couch and the movie are, if that's what they end up doing. It's probably the better idea of the two since Clint tends to fuck things up when he moves too fast. It's just hard to think that way since he really does feel a connection with Daisy and none of this has felt like it's moving too fast.
"Inside, nice comfy couch, more cold beers, you know the drill."
It physically aches to put distance between them, but moving inside really is a better idea than continuing things out here. A couch sounds much more comfortable than the seating or floor of the rooftop, and if things continue on this trajectory, she'd rather be comfortable. So she leans back enough to look up into his eyes, their breath still mingling, and nods her agreement.
"Yeah, inside sounds good," she says softly before leaning back in for another kiss, her body drawn to his like a gravitational pull. But it only lasts a second before she steps back, her hands sliding down his arms to take his hands and tug him toward the door. "C'mon, you."
Clint doesn't like separating either, but he does recognize its importance. Just because he's more than willing to continue things out here on the roof doesn't mean that she's into a bit of minor exhibitionism. Besides, usually he plans for something like that and has more comfortable outdoor furniture set up for the possibility. Before he even entertains that idea with Daisy, they need to talk more.
He doesn't think that's going to happen though, because Daisy kisses him again and then leads him inside. He closes the door behind them. His place is pretty small, so the couch is basically right there but Clint isn't entirely sure what he should do, so he hesitates. "Beer, or...?"
Clint might be surprised by what she would consider or enjoy. She used to live in a van, after all — privacy is a matter of perspective in that situation. It's been a decade since her more adventurous days, but it's been more a lack of opportunity rather than a lack of willingness.
Biting her lower lip, she takes a moment to seriously consider the two options before her. Tumble onto the couch and continue what they'd started, or take a break to catch their breath and reorient themselves. She knows she should do the latter, be smart and make doubly sure this isn't something she'll regret...
"Screw it," she decides aloud, grabbing the collar of his shirt to tug him back down to her for another needy kiss.
Clint isn't sure if he's surprised or not when Daisy pulls him back in. He knows he would have reacted the exact same way if given those options. With that, he lets himself be pulled forward and gets his hands right back where they'd been when they were outside: on her slim hips.
He walks them toward the couch, still kissing her. Once his quads hit the cushions, Clint falls back onto it, pulling Daisy with him. He buries his hand in her hair once they settle there, only pulls back to say, "I'm following your lead here, sweetheart, so tell me if we go too far."
God, she loves that he says that. She hadn't doubted for a second that he would stop when she said to, but there's something so deeply comforting about him actually providing that assurance. It makes her feel even more certain that this is right. This is okay.
"I will, don't worry," she assures him in turn before claiming his lips again. In smooth motions, she shifts her position on the couch, not losing hold of him while she lifts herself up to swing a leg over his and straddle his lap. Once she has free movement of her arms, she shrugs out of her leather jacket, tossing it toward the floor in... some direction. It doesn't matter where when her hands are already back on him, her fingers locating the top button of his shirt and getting to work.
They’re both adults and they’ve both established that this is what they want. Clint isn’t going to question it anymore. Daisy is more than capable of stopping him if she wants to, and he knows that he’s not pressuring her for anything that she doesn’t want to give. Clint reaches to help her with her jacket with that in mind.
He doesn’t let himself get too distracted by the removal of clothes though, diving right back into their kiss. Once his shirt is unbuttoned, he shrugs out of it, also not caring at all where it ends up. He drops his hand from her hair and brings it down to her shirt, tugging at the hem. His other hand drops down to her ass, resting there for a moment while they kiss. Daisy has a really nice ass.
Honestly, Clint could keep kissing Daisy all night without moving on from this, but if this does become a thing, which he hopes it will, they’ll have plenty of time to make out.
Everywhere he touches sets her nerves on fire. Touch has always been important for Daisy, stemming from not getting anywhere near enough of it as a child, and she can't get enough of touching Clint in return. Her hands slide over his chest, tracing cords of toned muscle and caressing the scars she finds. She doesn't intend to bring attention to them, nor will she demand their story. For now, she simply wants him to understand that she doesn't mind them; she certainly has enough of her own.
When her hands are low enough, she grasps the hem of her shirt and leans back, breaking their latest kiss to tug the garment over her head and reveal the black strapless bra beneath. The shirt joins his on the floor.
Something comes over her, and when she leans in again, it's to press her forehead to his in a moment of calm, her long hair cascading around their faces. "I feel safe with you," she says softly, as if in supplication. Though what she might be asking for, even she couldn't say. Reassurance that she isn't wrong to feel that way?
Scars and injuries are just par for the course when you work in this industry. Clint is littered with them: bullet scars, stab wounds, scars that he doesn’t even remember getting. His nose is nearly always broken in some way, and he’s bleeding more often than not. It’s no surprise to him that Daisy body has similarly been affected by their shared style of work. Clint won’t ask about them, not this early in their acquaintance. There will be time for that later, and he’s sure that she doesn’t want to interrupt this to talk about traumatic experiences.
What he does pay attention to is her tossing her shirt aside, and the cute black bra she’s wearing beneath it. Gently, he draws his hands up her sides, watching her face to see what she likes. When she leans in, he brings them around to her back, rubbing up and down gently.
It’s good to take a moment to slow down, because it gives him the chance to say, “I really like you. I don’t want to hurt you, ever.” Because he doesn’t. His track record with women is pretty bad but it’s not because he’s done things to make them scared or feel unsafe around them. He’s just a terrible communicator and doesn’t always know what their expectations are. He’s going to do better this time, though.
“I just… If we do this, are you still gonna want to talk to me in the morning?” he asks, feeling a bit vulnerable. It’s been a long time since he’s wanted to keep getting to know someone.
There have been people in Daisy's past who have promised not to hurt her. She'd believed them then and suffered for it later, but she doesn't think that's how things will end with Clint. Call it delusional or wishful thinking, but she wants to trust her gut instinct instead of doubting herself.
That question makes her pause, though, and she leans back slightly to study his expression for a moment. Rejection issues — that's something they'd had in common when they'd discussed their 'flaws' earlier. Putting that knowledge into the context of his question nearly breaks her heart, and she can't help but wrap her arms around his shoulders and lean back in for a solid hug. "I promise I will."
She knows what it's like to be that vulnerable, to be scared of the rejection you're sure is coming. Their roles will inevitably end up reversed with her needing him to be strong while she's the vulnerable one, but something tells her he can do that. They can do this, being what the other needs because they understand what it feels like. This thing might take a ton of work to figure out, but if they both put in the time and effort, they might stand a chance of making it.
Clint knows that he might hurt her, and that she might hurt him too, but he's never going to do it on purpose. He thinks that she feels the same about that, especially when she promises that she won't stop talking to him if they have sex. Clint's an Avenger. He's had his fair share of men and women that have wanted to get close to him just because of the notoriety. Once they got what they wanted, he just never heard from them again. That's not what he wants this time.
At least Daisy has her own form of fame, or whatever they want to call it. She gets it, and she's probably had similar experiences. That helps a lot. Add to that that Clint doesn't think that Coulson would have convinced him to go on a date with her if he thought it would end poorly.
He trusts that she's telling him the truth, so he draws her in for another kiss, a bit softer this time. He pulls back for a moment to ask, "what do you like?"
Back before SHIELD, even before the Rising Tide, Daisy had been a one-night stand girl. It's not something she proudly flaunts, but she'd used her body when she had to in order to survive. Having sex with someone gave her a bed to sleep in when everything she owned fit in a duffel bag, and if they weren't completely disgusting, she'd stretch the 'relationship' as long as she could stand just to have a place to stay. Saving up and being able to afford the van had been a big step for her — after a lifetime of having nothing, she finally had a home. Sure, it was on wheels, but it was hers.
She isn't that girl anymore, and the days of casual flings are far behind her. What she wants is stability and connection more than anything else.
A moment of silence passes as she thinks, but then she answers truthfully, "Not gonna lie, it's been ten years since I was with someone, so I think we're gonna have to figure that out together." Another pause before she adds something that's important for them both to acknowledge. "I don't like feeling restrained. Holding my hands is okay, just not my wrists."
That would be a foolproof way to immediately kill the mood.
Ten years is a long time to have not been with anyone. Clint can't say the same about himself, since he's been pretty promiscuous since the divorce. The difference between him and those just looking for clout is that he's always very up front about it, and he doesn't do any unexpected ghosting. He's not ashamed of it but he is getting tired of meaningless hookups. He's really glad that Daisy wants more than just that.
"No wrists, got it." He doesn't think he would have gone for that, but it's good to know, nonetheless. "Why don't you let me take care of you, then? I'm very good with my mouth." Not only that, but going down on his partners is one of Clint's favourite things to do.
"And then, if you want, we can finish off in my bed. You don't have to stay if you don't want to, but you're welcome to. I've got a really good coffee blend for the morning, and you won't want my cooking, but I can go get bagels." He's a simple guy so he's not going to promise her things that he isn't interested in giving. If she's not a bagel girl, they can go out for eggs. He's pretty easy.
She isn't expecting a full itinerary laid out for the night and morning ahead, but she kind of loves it. Before he gets to the end of the proposition, she's struggling hard not to grin like the cat that ate the canary. How can he be so hot and utterly adorable at the same time? It really should be a criminal offense.
"Wow, planning out the rest of the date, huh?" she teases gently, making sure to telegraph through her body language that she's not being cruel or unkind. Her fingertips comb through his hair as she pretends to consider his offer. There's really nothing to consider though, because, "Who could say no to an offer like that? Go on, then. Show me what you've got, Barton."
"Planning things out has done us pretty well so far," Clint replies, grinning. He kisses her, this time licking into her mouth immediately while he undoes the clasp of her bra. Now that he knows where this is going, he's much more self assured in his actions, taking the lead easily.
He has to lift Daisy off of him so that he can get to her pants, but he's not ready for that yet. He'd just gotten her topless, and she deserves to be admired. She's absolutely gorgeous, and her tits are perfect. He brings his hands up to cup them, runs his fingers over her soft skin and then starts kissing down her neck.
He presses her back against the couch when he has his fill, tugging off her pants and then proving that he hadn't been exaggerating about how good he is with his mouth.
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"So, we've established that we don't like fancy bars, and that neither of us really likes spending time out in the public. So, if we were to have a second date, what would you want to do? It's only fair that you plan it, you know, since I came up with this idea," he teases. He knows full well that he'd barely come up with anything, just conveniently had a rooftop garden to use and beers in the fridge.
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"Well," she says, drawing the word out while tilting her head to the side in exaggerated consideration, "I think maybe a movie night. Not actually going to a theater, but getting takeout and watching something at my place or yours. I love going to the movies, don't get me wrong, but I'd much rather see what kind of commentary you can come up with."
Hopefully, he's not someone who would never dare talk during a movie.
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"You got more plans tonight?" he asks. "Because if not, we can have that second date right now." He's been thinking ab out getting a projector for movie nights on the roof, but he hasn't yet, so they'll have to make do with his tv and couch. If she wants to stay, at least.
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"I'm all yours, Hawkguy," she assures him, wondering if she means that in more ways than one. Sliding her hands up to his shoulders, she hesitates briefly and then smiles expectantly. "But if we're ending our first date, don't you think you should kiss me goodnight before we start the second?"
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"All mine, hmm?" he teases. Clint brings his hands around and links them at the small of her back. "I guess you should probably sample the goods, make sure that a second date is a good idea," he teases, but then immediately leans in to press his lips to hers.
The kiss isn't necessarily chaste, but he does keep it sweet and simple. Daisy's lips are soft, and she tastes like the beer they'd been drinking, but that's not something that bothers Clint at all. He pulls away and smiles at her, "so, we good to keep dating, or do you need another sample?"
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"It never hurts to be sure," she murmurs with her own smile before hooking a hand around the back of his neck and rising up on her toes to meet him. The second kiss is definitely not chaste — she makes it very clear that she's interested while she drinks in the warmth and taste of him. His pulse has sped up a little; she can feel it matching her own and she never wants to forget how it dances across her senses.
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They don't part right away, instead kissing each other on his little rooftop, faces lit up by the New York lights above them. Clint brings his hands up her back, wanting to touch her everywhere that he can reach. When they finally do part, Clint doesn't pull back too far. "Well, I'm convinced. Looking forward to the goodnight kiss after our second date now."
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She can't but laugh, her voice a little thicker from the effect he's had on her. "Has anyone ever told you you're kind of a dork?" Said with warm affection, of course, as her hands frame his jaw. "I guess it's probably part of the whole dad package."
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They're still so close though, and Daisy has been pretty clear already about what she wants, so he leans in again. Their mouths connect again, but there's nothing hesitant about this kiss. Clint tips Daisy's head back so that he can lick into her mouth, presses their bodies together. It's fine if they don't go any further than this, tonight, but he likes knowing that she wants him just as much as he wants her.
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She leans into that kiss, one hand combing fingers through his short hair while her other arm wraps around his back, anchoring him to her. A delicious fire kindles within her and she realizes she'd forgotten what it feels like to be at the start of something. The newness, the excitement, the way everything sparks with passion. She doesn't want to let go, as evidenced by the quiet moan that fills the space between them.
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It's also where the couch and the movie are, if that's what they end up doing. It's probably the better idea of the two since Clint tends to fuck things up when he moves too fast. It's just hard to think that way since he really does feel a connection with Daisy and none of this has felt like it's moving too fast.
"Inside, nice comfy couch, more cold beers, you know the drill."
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"Yeah, inside sounds good," she says softly before leaning back in for another kiss, her body drawn to his like a gravitational pull. But it only lasts a second before she steps back, her hands sliding down his arms to take his hands and tug him toward the door. "C'mon, you."
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He doesn't think that's going to happen though, because Daisy kisses him again and then leads him inside. He closes the door behind them. His place is pretty small, so the couch is basically right there but Clint isn't entirely sure what he should do, so he hesitates. "Beer, or...?"
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Biting her lower lip, she takes a moment to seriously consider the two options before her. Tumble onto the couch and continue what they'd started, or take a break to catch their breath and reorient themselves. She knows she should do the latter, be smart and make doubly sure this isn't something she'll regret...
"Screw it," she decides aloud, grabbing the collar of his shirt to tug him back down to her for another needy kiss.
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He walks them toward the couch, still kissing her. Once his quads hit the cushions, Clint falls back onto it, pulling Daisy with him. He buries his hand in her hair once they settle there, only pulls back to say, "I'm following your lead here, sweetheart, so tell me if we go too far."
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"I will, don't worry," she assures him in turn before claiming his lips again. In smooth motions, she shifts her position on the couch, not losing hold of him while she lifts herself up to swing a leg over his and straddle his lap. Once she has free movement of her arms, she shrugs out of her leather jacket, tossing it toward the floor in... some direction. It doesn't matter where when her hands are already back on him, her fingers locating the top button of his shirt and getting to work.
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He doesn’t let himself get too distracted by the removal of clothes though, diving right back into their kiss. Once his shirt is unbuttoned, he shrugs out of it, also not caring at all where it ends up. He drops his hand from her hair and brings it down to her shirt, tugging at the hem. His other hand drops down to her ass, resting there for a moment while they kiss. Daisy has a really nice ass.
Honestly, Clint could keep kissing Daisy all night without moving on from this, but if this does become a thing, which he hopes it will, they’ll have plenty of time to make out.
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When her hands are low enough, she grasps the hem of her shirt and leans back, breaking their latest kiss to tug the garment over her head and reveal the black strapless bra beneath. The shirt joins his on the floor.
Something comes over her, and when she leans in again, it's to press her forehead to his in a moment of calm, her long hair cascading around their faces. "I feel safe with you," she says softly, as if in supplication. Though what she might be asking for, even she couldn't say. Reassurance that she isn't wrong to feel that way?
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Scars and injuries are just par for the course when you work in this industry. Clint is littered with them: bullet scars, stab wounds, scars that he doesn’t even remember getting. His nose is nearly always broken in some way, and he’s bleeding more often than not. It’s no surprise to him that Daisy body has similarly been affected by their shared style of work. Clint won’t ask about them, not this early in their acquaintance. There will be time for that later, and he’s sure that she doesn’t want to interrupt this to talk about traumatic experiences.
What he does pay attention to is her tossing her shirt aside, and the cute black bra she’s wearing beneath it. Gently, he draws his hands up her sides, watching her face to see what she likes. When she leans in, he brings them around to her back, rubbing up and down gently.
It’s good to take a moment to slow down, because it gives him the chance to say, “I really like you. I don’t want to hurt you, ever.” Because he doesn’t. His track record with women is pretty bad but it’s not because he’s done things to make them scared or feel unsafe around them. He’s just a terrible communicator and doesn’t always know what their expectations are. He’s going to do better this time, though.
“I just… If we do this, are you still gonna want to talk to me in the morning?” he asks, feeling a bit vulnerable. It’s been a long time since he’s wanted to keep getting to know someone.
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That question makes her pause, though, and she leans back slightly to study his expression for a moment. Rejection issues — that's something they'd had in common when they'd discussed their 'flaws' earlier. Putting that knowledge into the context of his question nearly breaks her heart, and she can't help but wrap her arms around his shoulders and lean back in for a solid hug. "I promise I will."
She knows what it's like to be that vulnerable, to be scared of the rejection you're sure is coming. Their roles will inevitably end up reversed with her needing him to be strong while she's the vulnerable one, but something tells her he can do that. They can do this, being what the other needs because they understand what it feels like. This thing might take a ton of work to figure out, but if they both put in the time and effort, they might stand a chance of making it.
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At least Daisy has her own form of fame, or whatever they want to call it. She gets it, and she's probably had similar experiences. That helps a lot. Add to that that Clint doesn't think that Coulson would have convinced him to go on a date with her if he thought it would end poorly.
He trusts that she's telling him the truth, so he draws her in for another kiss, a bit softer this time. He pulls back for a moment to ask, "what do you like?"
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She isn't that girl anymore, and the days of casual flings are far behind her. What she wants is stability and connection more than anything else.
A moment of silence passes as she thinks, but then she answers truthfully, "Not gonna lie, it's been ten years since I was with someone, so I think we're gonna have to figure that out together." Another pause before she adds something that's important for them both to acknowledge. "I don't like feeling restrained. Holding my hands is okay, just not my wrists."
That would be a foolproof way to immediately kill the mood.
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"No wrists, got it." He doesn't think he would have gone for that, but it's good to know, nonetheless. "Why don't you let me take care of you, then? I'm very good with my mouth." Not only that, but going down on his partners is one of Clint's favourite things to do.
"And then, if you want, we can finish off in my bed. You don't have to stay if you don't want to, but you're welcome to. I've got a really good coffee blend for the morning, and you won't want my cooking, but I can go get bagels." He's a simple guy so he's not going to promise her things that he isn't interested in giving. If she's not a bagel girl, they can go out for eggs. He's pretty easy.
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"Wow, planning out the rest of the date, huh?" she teases gently, making sure to telegraph through her body language that she's not being cruel or unkind. Her fingertips comb through his hair as she pretends to consider his offer. There's really nothing to consider though, because, "Who could say no to an offer like that? Go on, then. Show me what you've got, Barton."
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He has to lift Daisy off of him so that he can get to her pants, but he's not ready for that yet. He'd just gotten her topless, and she deserves to be admired. She's absolutely gorgeous, and her tits are perfect. He brings his hands up to cup them, runs his fingers over her soft skin and then starts kissing down her neck.
He presses her back against the couch when he has his fill, tugging off her pants and then proving that he hadn't been exaggerating about how good he is with his mouth.
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