Logan walked through the dense woods with a bottle of Southern Comfort in his hand and a quiet smile on his face. The sultry heat of the summer night throbbed around him like a living thing and made his fitted black t-shirt stick to his moist skin. The night was warm but not unpleasantly so. It was the kind of night that made his body loose and his blood run hot.
He paused to watch the orange-red harvest moon as it rose slowly through the trees. Tonight was one of those rare nights when the moonlight was warm and golden instead of cool and silvery. All around him the forest was alive with sounds; the gentle rush of wind through the trees, the soft drone of insects, even the very earth seemed to pulse with heat and life.
Logan walked slowly, lost in thought. Nights like this were few and far between, meant to be savored slowly like old scotch. He knew where he was going even though he'd only been there a couple of times and never this way - through the forest at night. Some inborn sense of direction guided him, leaving his mind free to wander.
His smile widened as his thoughts turned to Marie. Their relationship hadn't always been easy, but over the years they'd grown into each other until they seemed to fit one another like a favorite pair of old faded jeans. Familiar. Comfortable. His relationship with her was the longest he'd ever had with a woman. In truth, it was the longest relationship he'd had with anyone. She was his first friend, his best friend. The person he held closest to his heart.
They shared a special bond, not only because they'd touched or because of what had happened that night in the torch - but for what had come after. Eight years. Sometimes it still amazed him.
He'd come back from his search for his past not quite sure what would be waiting for him at the school. He'd been surprised to find not only a home but also acceptance and love. Not the kind of love one might imagine, either. While he and Marie had always shared a strange awareness of each other, they were both quick to point out that neither of them knew the other very well, especially in the beginning.
That surprised a lot of people. Everyone seemed to be expecting them to reunite like star crossed lovers and when that didn't happen they were rather shocked. The truth of it was, they shared a deep bond and neither of them was willing to risk losing that. His homecoming was rather uneventful as homecomings go. They exchanged a heartfelt hug and a quiet greeting. That night, the tags that Marie had worn faithfully every day for nearly a year had shown up back around Logan's neck. From that moment on, they had been inseparable.
He taught her to fight - both clean and dirty, to track and hunt, to drive, to play pool, poker, and a number of other games the school never would have approved of. He taught her to spot a cheat and how to cheat herself, if need be. A few months before she turned twenty-one he taught her how to drink. That night he taught her many things; margaritas taste better with salt - as does tequila, condoms make great water balloons in a pinch, and to never ever turn her back on her cohort-in-crime without first counting the ammo… because he's got damn fine aim with water bombs. But most importantly, he taught her there were people willing to touch the untouchable girl.
In return, she taught him her gran's secret recipe for peanut butter cookies. She taught him that a teenage girl was fully capable at beating him at Trivial Pursuit - with a little help from what he liked to call 'The Marie Collective'. She always denied it of course, but he knew better than to trust a Marie-denial that came with a sassy wink. She taught him other things, silly things - that he wouldn't die of embarrassment if she threw a box of tampons in the basket at the supermarket when he was buying beer and that girls were just as capable of hogging the remote as men were. Silly things aside, she also taught him there were people willing to accept the animal inside of him along with the man. She taught him to smile, to laugh, to feel more comfortable around other people, but most importantly, she taught him how to open his heart, to love and be loved in return.
They'd always had a certain chemistry, but there had never been any romance between them. They were best friends, buds, partners. She gave him advice on women, not that he needed it, but Marie had always believed that any man could benefit from a woman's perspective - especially when it came to romance. He shared his perspective with her too, talked her through her first break up and wiped away her tears. Bobby had been her first serious relationship and her first broken heart. She grew up and moved on, found someone new to love. And like always he was there when she needed him. He let her cry her heart out on his shoulder when she'd discovered Remy had cheated on her and two days later when the Cajun finally surfaced with a black eye and a bruised jaw, she'd given Logan a hug and a kiss on his whiskered cheek before falling asleep on his couch.
And so it had gone on. After graduation Charles had paid for Marie to travel through Europe for a year before college. Logan had missed her that year she was away but they'd still remained close… seemingly able to pick up right where they left off, no matter how long it had been since they'd last spoken. She'd returned home after a year abroad and gone to college in upstate New York where she'd majored in art. They visited when they could, sharing their ups and downs as good friends are wont to do, still close like always despite the changes in their lives. No amount of time or distance could ever change that.
People came in and out of both their lives. Some relationships were more lasting than others but in the end, the only true constant for them both was each other. That would never change. He loved her. She loved him. It never needed saying. It was simply understood.
Logan closed his eyes and breathed in the night. His sensitive hearing was beginning to pick up soft strains of music coming from the small gamekeeper's cabin where Marie now lived. Upon her graduation, Charles had invited her back to teach art at the school and had offered her the use of the small cabin on the edge of his land, knowing that she would be more comfortable there. It was quiet and surrounded by old trees, close enough for her to work at the school, but secluded enough to offer her the privacy she craved.
She'd converted the loft upstairs into a small studio. The windows were large and the light was perfect for painting. She was quite good. At twenty-five, she'd already had two shows and she was becoming quite well known for her unique style.
Logan looked down at the bottle in his hands. It was another of their little rituals. In the beginning he would only bring one when he really needed to talk, but over time that had changed and now whenever he came for an 'official' visit he always brought her a bottle and then promptly turned right around and asked her for a beer or some whiskey instead. The first time he'd done it, she'd asked him why and he'd grinned and told her the only kind of Southern Comfort he wanted was of the Mississippi variety.
The music was louder now. He could tell she was in a good mood. Sweet low notes of old rock and roll blended gently with the rhythm of the night and the warm pulse of life that surrounded him. He smiled in spite of himself when he saw her. She'd thrown open the French doors on the back deck and was dancing in the warm moonlight to the slow sultry beat.
His eyes widened when he saw the amount of skin she was showing. The white spaghetti strap tank top she was wearing bared her arms and shoulders and the low hip-hugging jeans showed off a sexy ribbon of toned stomach. As she undulated to the low beat, his eyes caught on the satiny skin exposed at the small of her back. There was something different about her tonight. She looked more at ease, more relaxed, than he'd ever seen her. Perhaps having her own space gave her the peace of mind to be so comfortable in her own skin. Whatever the reason, he was happy for her. She deserved whatever small measure of solace she could find in this life.
Her bare feet moved silently on the cedar deck that was still warm with the residual heat of the summer sun. The dual scents of cedar and tobacco reached him as he moved closer. He smiled as he saw the lit cigar sitting in an ashtray on the railing. She didn't ever smoke them, but she'd told him once she found the rich sweet scent comforting.
She swayed seductively to the beat, letting her head fall back as she spun slowly to the music. She took a sip from a long necked bottle, pausing briefly to run the cold brown glass down her throat. Her scent reached him and Logan smiled as he stopped at the edge of the deck. She smelled like… joy. Pure sweet joy. He paused, wondering what had made her so happy.
She'd already had her housewarming party so he knew that wasn't it. He knew she wasn't seeing anyone at the moment so it couldn't be that either. He couldn't smell any lingering turpentine on her so she couldn't be celebrating finishing a new painting. He knew it was too soon for her to know about the latest painting she'd sold. His broker had just called him with the news not more than an hour ago.
He suppressed a smile. He hadn't wanted her to know that he was the one buying it. She'd have just given it to him, so instead he'd gone through a broker. He'd already decided to take it with him the next time he went up north so he could hang it in his cabin along with the other painting of hers that he owned. She'd given him that one two years ago when he'd commented that he'd liked it - that something about it just spoke to him.
He wondered if she'd ever figure out she was painting scenes from his memory. The one she'd given him was a painting of the alpine meadow above his cabin. She'd captured the mood of deep summer so perfectly he could almost smell the sage in the warm wind when he looked at it. When he asked about it, she'd simply said she was just painting pictures she'd seen in her head. Logan smiled inwardly. Maybe someday he'd take her there to his cabin and then walk with her through that meadow so she could feel the scented wind on her face for herself.
The first one had been a gift. The second had cost him $2,300 dollars. His Marie was definitely moving up in the world. This new painting was of the tree-covered gorge near the edge of his land. She'd captured it at his favorite time of day, when the last rays of the setting sun turned the water at the bottom of the deep ravine into a river of fire.
Logan had been watching her for a good five minutes before she realized he was there. "Hey, sugar." Her voice was husky. She must have been singing along to the music earlier. He chuckled. "Wanna dance?" What man in his right mind would say 'no' to that offer?
Logan stepped up on the porch and set the bottle on the railing. "What are we celebratin', darlin'?"
Her eyes sparkled. "It's a surprise." She grinned when she saw the familiar bottle and gave her usual response. "Want a beer?"
"Nah, I'll just take yours." The corners of his mouth turned up as he plucked the bottle from her bare fingers and moved behind her. They'd danced together lots of times. At school fundraisers, at Jean and Scott's wedding, when the team was out celebrating a decisive victory together, at her housewarming party three weeks ago. Hell, at Jubilee's 21st birthday, they'd done a sexy bump and grind that had even her blushing. It had definitely raised a few eyebrows, but they were both buzzed and Bobby had dared them… besides, everyone knew they were just friends.
Marie picked up another beer and opened it, still never quite stopping her body from keeping time with the slow rhythm. "Watch the skin, sugar." She always warned him, even though she knew she didn't have to.
"Always do." It was true. He always did. He was the only one who didn't wear gloves around her. Whenever anyone else wanted to hang out with her they always did, but Logan didn't. Not ever. It made her feel more normal than anything anyone else could have done. He was always careful, but not obviously so. He'd taken a few brief jolts over the years. It was only to be expected, but it made little difference. He'd never worn gloves with her and he never would. He never flinched back from her skin and she never flinched back from the animal inside him on the rare occasions he lost control.
They had trust. Understanding. But more importantly they accepted each other without reservation and everyone needed that, even the unbreakable Wolverine and the woman with the poison skin.
Logan smiled as he stepped up behind her. He put his hand on her stomach, where it was covered by her tank top, and pulled her back into him as he took a long sip from his beer. He could taste her on the bottle. Molson and Marie. God, life was good. The music changed and a slow sultry beat spilled out of the French doors.
She lifted her arms and swayed, pushing back against him. Her hair slid to the side and something high on the back of her right shoulder caught his eye. That was new. She'd been wearing a tank top when he helped her move all her stuff in and he hadn't seen that tattoo then. It was an elegant Japanese character about an inch square. His lips turned up at the corners when he realized he knew what it meant.
Untouchable.
Leaning into her, he reached forward and stroked his finger down the condensation that had collected on the outside of her bottle. Marie's lush mouth curved into a smile of understanding as she watched his long finger travel slowly down the bottle. They both knew the thin film would protect him from her skin for the brief touch he had in mind. He pulled back just enough to brush his wet fingertip over her tattoo and he smiled when she shivered. Logan wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because of his touch and when he spoke, Marie could hear the smile in his voice.
"Nice." He suddenly had the urge to run his tongue over the delicate black design. The thought gave him an instant hard-on. "This a warnin', darlin'?" His voice was low, husky. The Wolverine had never been particularly good at heeding warnings, verbal or otherwise.
She laughed lightly. "Nope, just a reminder, sugar." They were both aware of his body's reaction, but it was nothing new. It happened almost every time they danced together. She never commented on it. Fair is fair after all. He never called her on her body's reaction to him, and she knew he could smell the subtle shift in her scent that occurred whenever he touched her this way.
That was their usual response to it anyway, but tonight Marie was feeling anything but usual. The moist heat of the night and the golden moonlight combined with her mood, her pleasant buzz, and the presence of Logan's strong warm body pressed up against hers was more than enough for her to let the usual slide a little.
She toyed with the neck of her bottle in a way that made his jaw clench and she swayed against him, enjoying the feel of the hard muscular body molded to her back. His large hand tightened on her stomach, drawing her closer. It was the same way they always danced but it was also somehow… different. The change was subtle yet distinctive. He'd never stroked his thumb in tiny circles on her stomach before and her supple curves had never lingered this long when she brushed against him as they danced.
There was an intense current crackling between them. They were aware of each other's every move, every breath, every minute difference in they way they touched. She was flint sparking against steel. This was crazy. Wild. They were best friends and this… this was slippery heat and hardened flame. It was heady. Dangerous. Intoxicating.
Another song came on and Logan was glad for the distraction. This was getting out of control. His body was burning wherever she touched him. He'd always known this was between them, but he'd never allowed himself to feel it. To fuel it. Tonight he simply couldn't deny what he was feeling any more than he could stop himself from tossing the empty beer bottle aside and settling both hands on her hips to draw her even closer as the song picked up in volume.
The rhythm of the music and the promise in the night air spoke to them, giving life to things long buried and best forgotten. But he heard. And she heard. They listened with their hearts and bodies because some things are not heard with ears and minds. Lost within the strains of music were low murmurs in a sultry feminine voice, whispering dangerous forbidden thoughts that made their hearts pound wildly and their bodies throb. The sensual hypnotic hum of her voice breathed in and sound became words.
Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell.
Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high.
God, she sang like Marie. The smoky voice was husky and low, reminding him of broken words issued in the heat of passion and the slow sweet burn of well aged whiskey. His mind readily conjured the image of Marie's lush red mouth panting heated words that tasted of Southern Comfort against his throat. He should let her go. He really should. This could stop now and tomorrow in the light of day it would be easy to convince themselves it was all in their imagination, that they hadn't moved together like a man and woman instead of platonic friends. They could pretend it never happened, that they hadn't felt the heat, the spark of passion ignite between them.
Instead, he held her a little tighter. She was Mississippi, lush and ripe, and his life was the dry spell she'd come into. She was so vibrant, so alive, so full of passion and life that she'd infused him with the same before he'd ever even noticed. She'd cracked his dusty dry shell and fed the thirsty soul lying dormant beneath it. He drank her in greedily, like parched earth accepting a rush of sweet water. She'd flowed into him as surely as he'd flowed into her that fateful night so long ago... In a river of consciousness and strength, riding a strange crest of pleasure-pain as he found himself inside her - but not inside her even though her body cradled his claws. A soft rush of air left his lips and was swallowed soundlessly by the night… but not before she heard it.
Mama's dancin' with a baby on her shoulder.
The sun is settin' like molasses in the sky.
It was disturbing how quickly, how easily, he could picture Marie as a mother, dancing with a dark-haired hazel-eyed baby in her arms. Subconsciously, his strong fingers stroked her stomach through the thin tank top. Her head fell back against his shoulder and she moved against him with fluid grace. She was molasses and wild honey, and the press of her supple body tempted him with the sweet promise of fulfillment.
No, it wasn't hard to imagine Marie as a mother and with her moving against him like that, it didn't take much for him to see a vivid picture in his mind of the two of them creating a child together. Bodies and hearts entwined, moving together in a slow honeyed slide of sweet words and thick passion.
The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything.
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for.
Marie smiled into the darkness. The song was about Elvis, but it always reminded her of Logan. He might not be able to sing, but he sure could move and he definitely oozed sex the same way Elvis had. Her mother would have liked Logan, rough edges and all. Her father would have hated him on principle. He hated anyone who had that much sense of self because he couldn't manipulate them. Of course, her father would have hated Logan anyway, simply because his feelings and thoughts carried weight with Marie when his own no longer did.
But that was a long time ago and right now she had much more interesting things to dwell on - like the man pressed so firmly against her back, guiding their movements in a sensual rhythm that was something more than simply following the music, yet something less than a romantic overture. It was maddening and yet at the same time, wildly exciting.
Logan radiated masculinity, from the dark look in his hooded eyes to the leashed strength in his powerful body to the way he moved. Everything… and God, did he make her want more… even though she knew she shouldn't. And perhaps it was more than the words in the song that touched her. There was something in the beat, the rhythm, that infused her blood and made her think of the way Logan's body always moved with such predatory grace, such confidence, and made her own want to move in sync with his, music be damned.
Black velvet and that little boy's smile.
Black velvet with that slow southern style.
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.
Black velvet if you please.
His ears heard the slow metallic slide of practiced fingers on vibrating strings and his body felt the slow slide of Marie's curves against him but his mind imagined the impossibly slow slide of callused fingers against untouchable velvet skin. She was the epitome of southern style and discovering her - feeling this smoldering heat blossom between them - was akin to finding religion, as was the wholly erotic thought of Marie on her knees.
A shudder passed through his powerful frame at the vivid sensual image the words created in his mind and against his chest he felt Marie's breath catch. He wished he could tell what she was thinking and what it was about those particular words that caused such a reaction in her. Surely, she couldn't be imagining what he was imagining.
Up in Memphis the music's like a heat wave.
White lightning, bound to drive you wild.
Heat crackled between them and built slowly with each throb of music, with each tantalizing brush of their bodies. Sweat that had nothing to do with the heat of the night prickled at their skin and slid from time to time in torturous drops over sensitized flesh. Trickling between her breasts, collecting at the small of his back. Skin that would taste of salt and want under a hungry, searching mouth. The heat arcing between them grew rapidly because it was not only fueled by the fiery sensation of intense passion, but also because it carried the warmth of true friendship and absolute trust.
His hands tightened reflexively on her hips, still unwilling to touch her in a way that couldn't be explained away tomorrow. He swallowed a low growl even as a soft pant escaped her parted lips. Logan leaned into her close enough to feel the silky strands of her hair brush over his mouth. Two streaks in the moonlight, like white lightning. They were a symbol of what bound them together but tonight they were driving him wild.
Mama's baby's in the heart of every school girl.
"Love me tender" leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle.
How could a song about Elvis of all people make him so goddamn hot? Of course, he knew it wasn't the song. It was her. Logan closed his eyes in a futile attempt to keep the erotic image of Marie swaying sensually in his arms from being forever burned into his brain. He'd always thought her beautiful, but he'd never allowed himself this- To notice the tendon in the graceful curve of her neck when she moved just so. To imagine sinking his teeth into it as she arched under him. To watch the soft curve of her breast as it rose and fell with each uneven breath. To open himself to her fully, drinking her in with all his enhanced senses. To imagine fitting the hardness between his legs to the softness between hers. To tear down the last remaining wall between them and lay his soul bare. To tell her he loves her as a man loves a woman. That he always has and always will no matter how long he lives.
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true.
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for.
The way he was moving against her was deliciously sinful. Marie closed her eyes and let herself believe for one heart-stopping moment that he returned her feelings. That he too was savoring the slow slide of their bodies and wishing for more. That he too imagined what it would be like to be more than just friends. She knew he felt the agonizing heat suspended between them. There was no denying that - and even if he tried, the erection nudging the small of her back told her otherwise.
The heat had always been there between them. He felt it. She felt it. But what she didn't know was if he ever imagined giving into that inviting heat or if it would always remain something unsaid and undone between them.
Black velvet and that little boy's smile.
Black velvet with that slow southern style.
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees.
Black velvet if you please.
She'd seen his little boy smile. It was rare but he'd shared it with her once or twice over the years. She'd seen it their first Christmas together when he was opening the present she'd given him. Nobody had ever given him a gift before and she could almost taste the pleasure in his smile as he tore into her gift with childlike enthusiasm. She'd also seen it the night he'd taught her to drink - right before a water filled condom had exploded wetly against her shoulder and he'd melted back into the darkness chuckling at the look of surprised outrage on her face.
The beat made her blood throb and his touch made her body tingle. This feeling was a new religion bringing her to her knees. An image of herself on her knees, touching velvet, flashed in her mind and her fingers tightened on his hard thigh. She licked her lips with the unconscious desire to taste him and this time it was his breath that caught as he watched her tongue flick over her bottom lip.
Every word of every song that he sang was for you.
In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon, what could you do?
Tonight every word, every breath, every thought, every touch was his body singing for her. Hear me, darlin'. Hear us. He didn't want this to disappear tomorrow. He wanted this night, this feeling, this new awareness of each other to last forever. A lifetime. A hundred lifetimes.
It seemed like he'd waited an eternity for this moment. The music continued, but he stilled her hips with his large hands. A deep breath escaped his lips and flowed across her neck like a warm caress. Why had she never noticed that before? A second breath of warm air tickled the sensitive skin under her ear and she shivered in his arms, suddenly more aware of his body simply because they were no longer moving. The world faded away and her reality shrank to the circle of his arms.
For a handful of interminable heartbeats they stood suspended in time and then Logan began to move, closing the small gap between them. Marie felt like the world was suddenly moving in slow motion, as if God himself had stilled it to make this one perfect moment last forever. Logan's arms tightened around her and he lowered his head to nuzzle the sensitive skin of her neck through the silky fall of her hair. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she could feel his heart beating just as wildly against her back.
There were no more pretenses. This was no longer just a dance. It was a true embrace with all the romantic implications there of. There could be no denying this in the light of day. There could be no going back. He'd stepped over the line of friendship cleanly, without regret, and he never looked back. He could no more dam his feelings than he could hold back the ocean. He wet his lips and brushed them over the moist skin of her neck, pulling away before her 'gift' could register the light touch.
"Marie." He breathed her name against her neck, part plea, part growl, willing her to respond in kind. To join him on the other side of the line and surrender to the heat flaring between them. To acknowledge and accept his feelings for her as a man - not just as a friend. He'd opened the last closed door between them and he stood in the threshold, inviting her to follow.
No matter which path she chose, everything would be different tomorrow. He'd known that from the beginning. So much to risk and so much to gain. Or lose. He'd waited for this moment, their moment, for such a long time. Now that it was finally upon them, he intended to savor it and to make sure she was fully aware of the true nature of his feelings. God, how he wished he could turn her in his arms and touch his lips to hers, to explore the velvet of her mouth under the black evening sky.
Marie's heart beat too hard inside her chest and her blood tickled in her veins. There could be no mistaking the intimate nature of his touch. Joy surged through her. He wanted her. He wanted this. She shivered despite the warm night air and the heat of the body pressed so tightly against her back. She had waited so long for him to touch her this way. She closed her eyes and simply felt, allowing herself to become lost in his touch for one brief moment before she stepped away. Something wasn't right. This wasn't how she wanted it to be.
Logan felt her pull away from him and everything inside him screamed at him to hold on to her, to make this single moment last as long as he could, but he crushed down his hurt and let her go. He loved her too much to force her to be with him if she truly didn't wish to be. Her back was to him and she never saw the flash of pain in his eyes or the way his powerful shoulders slumped in defeat before he could hide it. He squared his shoulders and swallowed hard, forcing himself to put on a pleasant face, despite the tight feeling in his chest. He didn't want this to be any more awkward than it already was. Trying to put a lightness into his voice he didn't feel, he attempted to cover his hurt by diverting attention away from himself.
"You gonna tell me what we're celebratin', darlin'?" The words were gravelley and low as he forced them out of a raw throat.
"Mmmm…" She looked up at him as she finished pouring herself a shot of Southern Comfort. Glass in hand; she closed the distance between them once again until she was only inches from him. She was close enough to feel his body heat. His powerful masculine presence was overwhelming. It made her feel vulnerable and feminine and very aware of him in an entirely new way. He had never scared her before, but he scared her now… in an exciting way that made her body tingle and her pulse pound. His body was tense and she knew he didn't understand why she'd pulled away.
"This is what we're celebrating, sugar." He watched her intently as she saluted him with the glass and put it to her mouth, tilting her head back as the amber drink passed her lips. She never once looked away from his intense gaze as she slid her hands around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. Her mouth opened under his and fiery liquid passed between them. He waited for the pull but it never came. He tore his mouth from hers in shock and a small stream of liquor escaped to trickle wetly down her neck.
"Surprise." The word was soft, barely a whisper.
In an instant, it all clicked into place. The skin she was showing. The way she touched him. The pure joy in her scent. His confusion as she'd pulled away and then returned to him so she could look into his eyes as they kissed. Now he understood. She had wanted to see his face when she shared this surprise, this gift, with him and she'd pulled away because he'd been too close to discovering it with the way he'd been teasing her neck with his lips.
She wanted him. She wanted this. His mind was racing. There was so much he wanted to say to her, to do to her… so many things he'd once thought impossible were now within his grasp, offered freely, without hesitation. He was torn between telling her he loved her and showing her. Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip to capture the lingering taste of his mouth and his decision was made.
He took her mouth in a savage kiss that left her dizzy and breathless. He wrapped one arm around her slender frame, pulling her closer still as he threaded his fingers in her hair and held her to him while his mouth devoured hers. His strong fingers stroked her nape and his mouth left hers to travel down her neck, chasing after that bead of amber liquid. His tongue stroked her throat and he bit her lightly before raising his head to cover her mouth once more. This time the kiss was tender, gentle. His lips were soft against hers and he stroked her tongue with his once more before breaking the kiss.
He lifted his head just enough to look into her eyes. The love he saw shining in them robbed him of breath. Her heart beat wildly against his and his powerful body trembled at the exquisite feel of her skin under his palms. His every enhanced sense was full of her. He was drowning in sensation, in Marie. Her taste on his lips, her heartbeat pounding in his ears, her scent filling his head, her velvet skin under his fingertips.
He didn't ask her how. He didn't ask her when. All those answers would come in time. This night of golden moonlight and intimate beginnings was too rare to be wasted asking questions. They would keep. He simply touched his mouth to hers and whispered against her soft skin. "I love ya, kid."
In the background, a new song began to weave its spell around them once more. Logan stepped back and offered her his hand. "Dance with me." His voice was husky with emotion. This time the invitation wasn't issued from a friend. It was issued from a man in love to the woman who held his heart. And this time when she stepped into his arms and pulled him close, neither of them gave her skin a second thought as she rested her cheek over his heart and slid her arms around his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as they began to move together for the first time as lovers instead of friends. He could feel the wild heat beginning to rise between them once again but this time he didn't fuel it, he simply let it grow at its own pace. He wanted to make this night last forever. They had waited too long for this moment, for their moment, to rush anything… and he had no doubt by the time dawn touched the sky, the intensely erotic heat growing between them would scorch them both to ashes many times over.
Bodies and hearts entwined, they began to learn a new rhythm as they moved together under the evening sky. Logan smiled into the night as an unexpected peace settled deeply inside him. Being able to touch her was a gift beyond words. Being loved by her was a treasure beyond imagination. His heart full, he looked down into the face of the woman he loved and realized this one moment in time made all the pain he'd ever endured worthwhile. She was the soft to his hard, the light to his darkness, the velvet to his black. The door had closed on friendship and opened on romance. His restless heart was finally at peace. He was holding the woman he loved in his arms and it was finally their time to dance.