Page 14 of Natasha
"Sheamus is a good guy. Shame he's gotta go against Silas," Sam told her, bending low so he could speak near her ear.
"Why does he? I mean, why does he have to fight Silas?" Natasha asked, her eyes scanning the back of the warehouse for Silas' entrance.
"Money's good. Both of 'em are two of the top fighters in this circuit. People pay big money to see that," Sam said, and then he shrugged. "They'll both get good payouts from tonight, even though Silas is going to take the winner's purse."
Natasha nodded, but she said nothing because Silas had suddenly emerged from the back of the warehouse. Contrary to Sheamus, he had no entourage. Natasha wondered if Sam was usually there beside Silas when he walked out, when he wasn't on guard duty.
Silas rolled his shoulders and walked forward with a quick and determined step toward the cage. From his first step, it was apparent why Silas didn't need an entourage to keep the energetic crowd at bay. The people in front of him parted like the Red Sea, each one falling away before he had drawn near. It was like a performance, Natasha saw, the way he commanded the crowd with the smallest of changes in his posture and step. It wasn't unlike the way Natasha had taken charge of a stage, mesmerized an audience, with the barest wave of her hand, the curve of her smile, or turn of her head captivating an entire concert hall. Though she'd done so with a bevy of backup dancers, costuming, and a full orchestra at her disposal.
Silas performed his art in a warehouse in the alleys of Queens, with no one at his back and to the tune of silence. There was no music accompanying him, which only served to heighten the tension and excitement of the crowd. Before long, he joined Sheamus in the center of the cage, and a dark-haired woman scampered out to join the two men. The woman was scantily clad, and Natasha felt something hot and possessive coil in her stomach when she brushed a hand along Silas' arm. Natasha crossed her arms in front of her at the touch, suddenly wishing that she was the one in the ring with the woman.
"Oh, this kitten has claws, does she?" Sam chuckled beside her, not missing the glare in her eyes.
"She does," Natasha shot back with a haughty toss of her head. She was still staring daggers at the woman who looked to be officiating the fight, when Sam let out a low whistle.
"Silas is going to need both hands when it comes to you," he said, eyes dancing with laughter.
"Hmph." Natasha pursed her lips but said nothing. The sooner the woman stepped away from Silas, the better. The threat of fists was preferable to the buxom brunette tossing her hair to the side and giving Silas a coy look. Thankfully, he didn't even seem to notice her. His eyes were trained on Sheamus, who was doing the same. Locked in a staring match, the two men were poised for action, both of their bodies so still that Natasha jerked from shock when the fight began and they sprang forward, fists aimed at the other.
If Natasha had thought Silas an artist before, she now saw that she'd had no idea how masterful his control over his craft truly was. The same went for Sheamus, who matched Silas' speed and strength with seeming ease. The two men moved around each other in the cage as if they had done this a thousand times before, and maybe they had, judging from the way they seemed to anticipate the other's next move.
Silas moved with a grace that any male dancer would envy, his large form carried forward on nimble feet. Silas feinted right, and Sheamus was ready with a punch, a punch that Silas took with comfort. Sheamus moved to land a kick but only found air, and then Silas was there with a kick of his own that had Sheamus tumbling to the ground. Though the redhead didn't stay there for long, rolling to his feet with a cocky grin in place. He spat on the mat in front of him and darted forward once more, catching Silas in the shoulder with a jab. The pair continued on this way for another minute or so before a bell called an end to the first round. Natasha looked away from the ring in annoyance when the buxom brunette bounced out, carrying a number card over her head.
"Enjoying your first fight?" an unfamiliar voice to her right asked.
Glancing to the side, Natasha froze when she found a pair of cool gray eyes looking at her—James.
Natasha tensed and leaned away from him, though she worked to keep her feet firmly planted. Everything about this man screamed predator, but Natasha refused to give her ground; she managed, though just barely.
"Take a hike, James," Sam said, voice gruff. He was already stepping between them with a glare on his face, and Natasha was grateful for his quick intervention.
"Just makin' friendly conversation is all." James held up his hands with a wry look on his face. "Hard not to try with such a pretty little thing."
Sam rolled his eyes and went to open his mouth, but Natasha pinned James with a glare, green eyes flashing. "I'm not a thing," she said, her tone icy.
"Aren't you, though? Pretty little doll like you?" James licked his bottom lip with a raised eyebrow.
Natasha jerked back at the gesture and was replaying Silas' order to knee him in the balls when her attention was pulled away by a sudden roar from the crowd. She looked around and felt her heart leap into her throat when she saw Silas in the center of the ring with one fist raised over his head. The brunette was at his side with a simpering smile on her face, both hands wrapped around Silas' bicep as she announced him as the victor, but Silas wasn't looking at her.
Instead, his eyes were on Natasha, and that meant that he saw James as well. Without so much as pausing, Silas sidestepped the woman and made for the trio at the side of the ring. It was only a matter of seconds before he was standing beside her, one arm going in front of her to push her behind him.
"Back off, James," Silas grit out between clenched teeth. His bare chest was rising and falling quickly from the fight, a light sheen of sweat glistened on his muscled body. Natasha had to bite back a moan because the man was absolutely breathtaking. She was sorry she missed his winning shot because of someone like James and mentally kicked herself for rising to the man's bait.
"Back off?" James pursed his lips, making a show of contemplating Silas' order. "Now, does that mean you aren't up for sharing then?"
"James." Silas' voice was low in warning, and he squared his shoulder, standing toe-to-toe with the other man.
"Right, right." James held up his hands in mock apology, "I forgot. You don't do that anymore with your pretty little girls, do you?"
Silas' hands shot forward, grabbing James by his shirt. "Keep your fucking mouth shut about that."
Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat when she processed James' statement. What did he mean about sharing? Did Silas share the women he was with? Not to mention, she hadn't missed the other man's emphasis on the two words, "little girls." They were two odd words to put emphasis on, she thought absentmindedly, though a part of her whispered to her that she knew precisely why he'd done it. And it was the same reason she had become fixated on Silas' reaction when she called him Sir, why she was starting to yearn for him to tell her how good of a girl she was. And it was far more than a simple praise kink. Her thoughts sent a chill up Natasha's spine, and she took a hesitant step away from where she had just been pressed up against Silas' back. Feeling her slight movement, Silas turned his head, his eyes catching hers while he faced off with James, hands still twisted in the fabric of the man's shirt.
"Or what?" James asked with a laugh, interrupting Natasha's thoughts. "You'll hit me? We both know you aren't allowed…not now, anyhow." A shrill whistle blew, and James held up a finger. "Ah, was waiting for that. I think you've really done it now, Silas, my boy."
"Goddammit," Sam muttered. He put a hand on Silas' shoulder and pulled him back. "Relax. You always let him get to you like this. He's not worth getting in trouble over."
Silas' jaw clenched and unclenched for a moment, eyes narrowing. He blew out a deep breath through his nose and gave a quick nod. He let go of James' shirt with a toss of his hands and, before Natasha could react, turned to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his bare chest.
