“Hold your horses!” Logan called, rolling out of bed and pulling on his pants. Growling on the way to the door, five thirty a.m. on a Saturday morning. It better not be Mr. Jean Grey.
Rogue jumped as the door swung open and she was greeted with a harsh, “What?”
There stood Logan, no shirt, tousled hair, and unbuttoned jeans threatening to slip from his hips. Her eyes swept over his chest again, following the hair down to where it disappeared under the denim fabric. Think, Rogue, think. You had a reason for being here and it was not to lust after the maintenance man.
Logan’s sour mood at being woken up so early on his day off faded at the sight before him. Rogue must have been pounding on his door with all her might. She probably didn’t weigh much over a hundred pounds soaking wet and she was soaking wet. It looked like she’d forgotten to take her pj’s off before stepping into the shower.
A little smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He’d always thought she had a nice rack, but the erect nipples jutting out from her wet top made him believe his original assessment of nice was too low. The way her eyes traveled over his body, he knew he wasn’t alone in reassessing.
He didn’t mind, she could look all she wanted. She could do more than look if she wanted. The temper flared in her eyes at being caught.
“You look madder than a wet hen,” he said with a chuckle.
Eyes narrowing, Rogue knew she shouldn’t have been staring and felt her temper get the best of her. “If I could fix it, I wouldn’t be down here getting your sorry ass,” she snapped.
He laughed again, and she immediately felt bad. But his smile turned softer, almost sympathetic, not the hard callous smile he usually put on. No, not the smile that said he knew how to give women what they wanted, this smile was friendly, almost affectionate.
“Wait a minute.” Logan turned, leaving the door open for her to follow. Timidly she stepped in, not venturing further. In his three months at the mansion, Logan had carefully guarded his privacy. He let no one besides her into the boiler room, and she didn’t go there without him. He was even more suspicious of those trying to peer into his apartment.
Rogue didn’t know what he was hiding; the man was meticulous and kept his rooms neat and clean. He’d also spent time organizing the tools kept in the boiler room. Everything had its place and everything was in its place. The old truck parked in the back showed the same care, though it evidently had many miles on it and the exterior was rough, it ran smoothly.
He returned from the bedroom, having pulled on boots and a t-shirt. “Showerhead?”
“Yeah.” Although he didn’t stare as he went past to get his tools, she felt self-conscious and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t need to advertise how chilled she was.
When he’d retrieved his tools, he let her lead them to her room. Not that he didn’t know where it was; Logan had sniffed that out the first day after they met. Never hurt to know where your quarry hid. She had one of the smaller suites without the kitchenette.
Upon entering he noticed the clutter. He sensed her wince and told himself it wasn’t bad. Books, DVDs, and various other items were piled on the nightstand, coffee table, and desk. It wasn’t like her dirty clothes were on the floor or half-eaten food was lying about. He’d been in a good share of the rooms in the dorms by now and comparatively, hers was clean. Not up to his standards, but completely livable.
Rogue felt the urge to tidy her room. Empathy for his privacy concerns welled up in her. He was probably the first person in years that had actually been in her room when she wasn’t prepared. Jubilee regularly burst in unannounced, but that was Jubes and she rarely judged anyone by their housekeeping abilities.
Why was she worrying anyway? It wasn’t like there would be any housekeeping in Logan’s and her future. Their future, she laughed inwardly to keep from thinking of it. Rogue wouldn’t deny he intrigued her. Something about him was on the edge of dangerous, no matter how well he contained it. Yet there was something else there that spoke to her. Lord knew he didn’t show it often, and he certainly didn’t show it intentionally, but once in a while, she saw it...a glimpse of something. Something that told her that there was more to this man than his gruff exterior.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have called you that.” There was a grunt, but she couldn’t tell if it was for her or the showerhead that was stuck in place.
Logan didn’t feel the need to apologize, what he’d said had been true. Though thinking back, she had been more like a wet kitten, with those big eyes, than a hen. Those eyes that were constantly on him, searching for god knew what. It made him want to protect her and he did not coddle women.
The type of women he usually consorted with knew this and were more than happy to take the physical pleasures he offered without seeking more. Rogue was not the type of woman he usually consorted with, though. She’d want more than what he’d be able to offer, take time he didn’t usually give.
Logan knew what she was searching for. It was the same thing every good woman wanted. He hated to break it to her, there was more bad than good in his soul. The honor code he lived by probably wasn’t up to her morals. He knew some of what he’d done, some of what he would do in the future, for the greater good; wouldn’t sit right with her.
It was at those times that he needed to remind himself and her of who he was. It was all too easy to do. A rude comment; a hand landing in an inappropriate place; or her least favorite, taking a good leer at another woman right in front of her. That one always put her off.
He mentally shook himself. Logan didn’t usually apologize, but she affected him differently and he felt the need to set things right for her. Not to mention if he was looking for Rogue to warm his bed anytime soon it would be a good first step. Though he wasn’t sure that was the main reason for the attraction anymore. “I shouldn’t have laughed at you.”
She gave him a wan smile. “My Mama always accused me of being easy to rile up.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her cross her arms, gripping them as if she was putting up a barrier. Sensing her discomfort at the mention of her mother, he changed the subject. If his goal was to get her into bed he best not push her in the wrong direction. “How’d you become the maintenance man’s helper?”
“My grandparents took care of me when I was little. Gramps was the local handyman and I went everywhere with him. Picked up a lot of how-to-knowledge. When I got here, I would fix things. After a while, I started helping Mr. Jenkins on account of him being so forgetful.” It had been a natural progression and one that had helped her feel like she contributed to life at the mansion.
Logan handed her the old showerhead and unwrapped the new one. “Could you have fixed that one?”
She examined it. “Temporarily at least.”
“So you just wanted to see me half-dressed?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
“No,” she laughed lightly, a sound he enjoyed way too much, it soothed the feral beast inside. “I’m not tall enough. The half-dressed part was a bonus.”
Rogue couldn’t believe she’d said the last bit out loud and felt the burn on her cheeks. Though it got a genuine snort of laughter from Logan, so it might have been worth it. She smiled at him and he returned the smile. Flirting was not her forte, but somehow he made it easier. If she flubbed it, he would act as if she’d pulled it off perfectly. Occasionally she was worried he had ulterior motives, but she didn’t have enough experience flirting to tell when he was being sincere or not.
Logan stepped out of the shower and put his tools away. Her bathroom was small and when he turned to face her, she was only a couple of inches from him. A nervous smile played on her lips and he returned it with a lopsided grin. This time she wasn’t searching for the good man, but sizing him up as a partner. He’d often smelled her interest in him when she “helped” him around the mansion. It was no different right now.
Reaching up, she absently flicked a few droplets of water from his hair. Her mouth was beautiful and he wanted to know if her lips were as lush and soft as they looked. Carefully, so as not to spook her, he closed the distance between them. Her eyes widened, breath quickening; classic signs he was on the right track.
Gently he told himself, she looked like the type that would want things slow and romantic. The type he usually avoided. He brushed his lips across hers; they were hot and beckoned to him. She didn’t let him move away instead she eagerly opened her mouth for him, instinctively sinking her fingers into his hair.
Logan was a great kisser, she’d give him that. It had been a while since she’d been kissed, but she was positive he beat them all hands down. She’d been telling herself for weeks now that any interest in him was foolish. Her heart wasn’t quite convinced and she could feel it start to sway in his favor.
His strong hands came to rest on her waist and she thought she would melt. Her shirt had ridden up and the skin on skin contact was almost more than she could handle. Warmth radiated out from him and began to pool low in her belly.
Rogue drew the line when his fingers slipped under the waistband of the PJ pants. She gently moved his hand back to its original position. She was enjoying the kiss, but she also didn’t want to move so fast that he would have no respect for her. She wanted to be more than another notch behind that knowing smile.
The time to teach him a lesson came when his entire hand slipped under her waistband a second time. The move made her legs turn to jelly and the thoughts that raced through her head... she knew his mind was on the same track with the continued movement of his hand. And this was no way to gain his respect. She turned on her mutation and dropped him to his knees.
“Do not mistake me for a floozy who will spread her legs at the first kiss,” she stated, stepping away from him. He was leaning with one hand on the wall for support and she felt this was a position that a man like Logan didn’t take lightly. Her message had been received, her work here was done, and she stomped off into the other room.
Logan sucked in a heavy breath. He’d felt something like an electrical jolt and then all the energy being sapped from him. That girl, correction woman, packed one hell of a punch. If he’d been prepared he wouldn’t have dropped, but as usual in her presence, he wasn’t on guard like he should be.
He was suddenly laughing. “I’ll keep that in mind, Darlin’.”
When his head cleared, he grabbed his toolbox and walked through the other room. He threw her a knowing smile as he passed by. She may have dropped him like a sack of potatoes, but his nose didn’t lie. Rogue still wanted him, not to mention that the kiss was too passionate to signal anything else.
She felt like slamming the door but thought better of it. There was no need to draw unwanted attention at such an early hour. She cursed herself for falling for him so easily. What had she been thinking? Logan wasn’t serious, he just liked flirting with her to pass the time.
Yet at times she caught him looking at her, his eyes softening just a bit. The leering he did and the comments about other women had lost some of their hard edge. It was a practiced tactic, one she suspected he used to keep women like herself at a distance.
She signed heavily, her emotions in a bit of a turmoil. It bothered her that she still thought so little of him after all this time. Her Mama was right, she was easily riled, and this was her way of striking back. Because despite appearances and teenage girls falling all over themselves to gape at him, she knew for a fact he hadn’t laid a finger on anyone at the mansion. Unless he went to see a woman every Friday night, he wasn’t a player.
Maybe she should take a peek at the memories she absorbed from him. Just for research purposes, to find out what his intentions toward her were. She hated to admit it, but she had feelings for him. His touch still lingered though he was gone and the way he looked at her, sometimes there was something more there than sexual desire.
Standing under the spray of the shower, she cursed again. Damned her and her luck when it came to men, always doubting herself and their intentions. Maybe this time she would just have to learn to trust her heart.
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