He sat there transfixed to the spot, partially from shock at how Marie had practically writhed on his lap and partly because he was unsure it would be physically possible to stand and walk with what felt like a lead pipe between his legs. He listened to her putter in the kitchen for a minute while he valiantly tried to wish away his erection. When he heard her footsteps on the stairs and finally heard her bedroom door close, he breathed a sigh of relief, popped the fly on his jeans and gave the old boy some room. Logan steadfastly refused to allow himself a quick jerk; it just felt too pervy at the moment.
She is my friend, FRIEND, damnit. She needs me as a FRIEND. She doesn’t want to lose our FRIENDship. For god’s sake go down, roll over, play dead, anything.
After about 10 minutes Logan finally felt enough tension leave his body to allow him a graceful exit. He walked down the hall, pausing only momentarily to listen at Marie’s door, sounded like she was in the bathroom again, before he went to his room. He wished he could lock himself in because the idea of sneaking into Marie’s room right now seized his mind in a stranglehold.
A low voice in his mind muttered Go on, show her how good it can feel…before she decides to find someone else to show her.
The idea of Marie kissing another man, letting another pair of hands explore her body, tracing those freckles, god it made Logan almost sick to his stomach. And it would probably be some jackass like that Gambit who’d been sniffing around her, someone who would just use her and drop her, someone who didn’t realize what a incredible woman they had in their arms, someone who would treat her like just a hot body. Someone who would, more likely than not, hurt her.
I’d hurt her, I’m crazy, I’d run off, I’d fuck it up. I’d hurt her.
How do you know if you don’t try?
How about I not and just say I did.
Fucking coward, don’t let someone else take our mate. She young, fertile, ready.
She’s more than just hot, you asshole. She’s smart, and brave, and sweet, and she makes me feel like a better person.
See…we both want her. She’s OURS.
What if she doesn’t want us?
She’s OURS.
On and on went the argument in his head, long after he’d hoped to fall asleep. Despite the comfort of the bed, the quality of the sheets and the impressive view of the ocean on every side, Logan could not relax enough to shut his mind off. He tossed and turned until the bedding was a wadded mess and he was sweating even in the air conditioned room. It felt like torture, his need for her, the knowledge that she was just feet away and he could touch her in the all the ways he dreamed about.
It all battled against her words to him, her fear, her need for his friendship, his promise to protect her. He groaned in frustration, grinding a pillow over his face to smother the sound.
“Logan?”
He yanked the pillow away from his face. Marie was standing in his doorway, one hand on the frame, another to her mouth. Her figure was draped in a white shift that looked to be made of silk, the light from the moon falling on her, the silhouette of her curves standing in marked relief to the darkness behind her. She seemed to almost glow in the bluish light.
“Did you have a nightmare, Logan?”
He dragged his eyes away the mesmerizing play of light and shadow on her skin to her face. Her eyes were soft, not concerned or frightened.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said quietly.
“Me neither.” She took a step into the room, her hand falling from her mouth and he saw her lips, fresh and full, slightly shining when she quickly licked them. “I didn’t tell the Professor everything, Logan.” She took another step towards him, then stood incredibly still just at the end of his bed, resting one hand lightly on the wrought iron scrollwork that made the foot.
Logan’s mind was fuzzy. She was here, she was right here, looking better than anything he’d seen in the years of his life he could remember. The shadow falling across her face captivated him, her mouth just in the light was saying something, he didn’t know what it was, all he could think was he could just reach out and touch her. Really touch her. His lips moved, she seemed to be waiting for a response. “Oh?” was all he could manage.
“I can do more than control my power.” She rested another hand on the metal foot, closed her eyes, and sighed. “I can control them all. I can do things.”
He was totally focused on the move and shape of her mouth as she spoke, the cupid’s bow that dipped miraculously on her lush top lip, hypnotizing him with its fullness. The peek of her tongue as it flashed out to slick across her lower lip.
“What kinds of things?” he whispered, only wanting to see her mouth move again.
“All kinds of things.” And the door behind her moved swiftly and shut without any movement on her part. He heard the lock turn, clicking loudly in the silence.
Logan snapped back to reality. “Rogue?” He tensed and sat up.
“Logan, don’t worry they’re not here, it’s just me.” Her head rolled back, and her breath quickened. “I control them all, their powers, their voices. I make them quiet now.”
One of her hands grasped the footboard tightly and the other wandered up her chest, making soft circles on the exposed skin of her sternum, visible between where the shite silk rolled over the swell of her breast, nipples tight against the fabric. The hand moved upward to her neck and she stroked the sides, just where he had during the movie, splaying her fingers to one side and then the other. He could see the flesh rise and pebble under her delicate touch. “It’s just me…I can use their powers.” Her breath quickened until she was almost panting. Then she lowered her head and opened her eyes; they were glazed with lust. She looked down at Logan, tangled in the mess of his sheets and smiled.
“I’ve come to collect my birthday present.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Short but to the point.
Chapter End Notes:
NC-17 justified in next chapter!