It all took less than fifteen minutes and changed everything. One minute the X-Men were out celebrating some little legislative victory and the next he had her, back against the bricks, in the alley behind the bar.

For a man with little to no memory of his past, the details of that evening were still vivid.

Red lipstick, a shade too dark, making her pallor lighter than normal. The feel of fishnet stockings under his fingertips. Her surprised gasp at his first thrust. High-heels that dug into the back of his thighs while fingernails managed to rake his back through two layers of cloth. The grind of crushed glass under his boots. Her breath flavored with whiskey he could almost taste. The sharp sting of teeth as a moan was muffled on his shoulder. A slick, wet heat that left him wanting more even after he was spent.

That had been months ago and he hadn't found a reason, not even deadly skin, to leave her bed. Not that he was looking for any.

~*~