Rated M for adult themes, aka, feral sex.
Now that that's out of the way…Here's just a quick little one chapter wonder I've had bouncing around my head. I'll probably post more on it some day soon because it is soooo not over yet, hilarity (in the form of Victor and school) will ensue. But for now, this is all you get. To clear some things up, the Female is a feral mutant, kinda feline, and duh, the other is Wolverine. Much love, tell me what you think!
Slinging beers took me a while to learn, but now that I've got the hang of it, it's as natural to me as walking around naked or wearing floor length skirts.
So, here I am, pulling brewskis for roughnecks in a Podunk little town in what seems like the arctic. For a girl that used to model and who likes her shoes to cost over nine hundred dollars this may seem a little…horrible? But I enjoy it anyway.
The men are gruff and hilarious, the beer is decent and the spirits are strong. The cage in the middle of our bar brings in some good scuffles, but sometimes I just want to push those pansies aside and show that what real fighting is. I wouldn't even have to grow out my claws or anything to floor those losers. But whatever, they can be amusing.
"Hey sweetie, my friend and I were jusht havin' a little…and we were wondrin'…" A drunk, fat, balding-comb-overed, trucker was wheezing and coughing in a little laughing fit with his asthmatic loser friend about something as I walked back toward the bar with an empty tray. I figured they paid my bills so I should at least give them the courtesy of looking in their direction with a cocked eyebrow.
"Yes? You were wondering…?" I supplied helpfully, suppressing an exasperated sigh-I had work to do.
"We was wondrin' if you were a B cup or a D!!" He nearly died with laughter. I could tell he was really proud of himself for actually saying it. I however wasn't impressed. I smiled what most men seemed to think was an 'I-think-you're-just-the-most-manly-piece-of-meat-I've-ever-seen-please-take-me-away' smile which really meant something more along the lines of "Ooh-boy-you-have-no-idea-what-you're-getting-into-if-you-don't-heal-as-fast-as-I-do-you're-gonna-want-to-start-backing-away-slowly-now'.
I set my damp brown tray down on their table carefully, so I wouldn't knock their heads off with it. "Well, you are both ridiculously off. I'm a C, and you're about to get thrown out if you don't behave yourselves." I looked at each grinning man squarely in the eye for a few seconds and it seemed to sink into their drink muddled brains that they were maybe a little wrong in discussing my boobs where I could hear them. "Enjoy your drinks gentlemen" I nodded towards the dregs of their beers "those'll be your last." And with a tight smile I picked up my tray and walked back to the bar.
"Handling yourself as usual Becca?" Joked the barman good naturedly.
"You know it Joe." I smiled back, wiping down the taps and generally keeping busy.
A loud groan came from the ring of men that surrounded the cage. Evidently the favourite had just gone down for the count. I smiled and took a pull of my whisky. In all truth we weren't supposed to drink during our shifts but it's not like I could actually get drunk without really trying.
"Oh! Who will take the place of our fallen comrade!? Who will beat this stranger to our town!? Who will become our hero!?" The announcer/referee was shouting out to the crowd and bets were already being placed. Roars went up and a man who had probably been a force to be reckoned with before he went to seed, made his way through the crowd amidst lots of good luck thumps on the back, to the raised platform to sign the standard waiver.
That was when I first saw him.
He was shirtless, wearing only snug worn jeans that fit him a little too nicely for a girl's comfort, and a pair of sturdy boots. His belt was beat-up but of good quality and he had one of those big belt buckles the guys around here seem to like so much, only his wasn't the size of Texas to compensate for something else.
His back was to me so I couldn't see his face, but I was content with his body for now (faces rarely match up to sculpted bods…tsk tsk.). The hard muscles of his back rippled when he bent over to pick up his beer bottle, from my place behind the bar I could just see his Adam's apple bob through the dark smoky haze as he took a swig and I thanked whatever was listening for my sharpened eyesight. His hair was messed up and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to mess it up even more.
It was strange that I should want him so badly. Don't get me wrong, I had quite a healthy appetite for men. I just wasn't usually around anyone who was manly enough for me. I mean, when you can rip out throats with your own teeth…a guy who drives a Mustang just doesn't impress me.
But this one…this one did. In all my years I'd never seen anything so…sexy. He seemed so strong, so solid. Something about him rang the 'familiar' bell in my head.
And sure enough, as soon as he started fighting I could already tell. This guy was a mutant. Like me. And I'd be damned if I wasn't gonna get a closer look.
I watched, wide eyed, as I slinked my way over closer to the cage. My guy took a couple good hits that would've probably floored a lesser man, but he was fine. He was a god!
His face was screwed up in a sneer, but I could still admire the strong lines, the rough stubble, and his amazing, flaming eyes!
He was like nothing I'd ever seen before, and damn when he started fighting back!
My heightened senses caught a faint metallic sound as his fist crushed into his opponent's chest and that made me wonder about his mutation. His punches were swiftly carried out and precisely aimed; he knew what he was doing and that peaked my interest even more.
The only man I'd ever come across who could fight like that was my brother, and my brother is the best there is at kicking ass.
Thank God I know I'm not related to this guy! I danced around delightedly in my mind and clapped my hands. I knew, without a doubt, this guy could pass the test.
I waited for my prey.
I caught his eye while he was still in the ring, and I smiled as I walked away because I could tell I was his mark. His eyes had widened just a bit and his pupils dilated just a fraction. He turned his body so his chest was pointed toward my retreating figure.
I was elated. It was nice to be stalked for once, even if I was stalking him too.
He came and sat at the bar when he was through fighting. The crowd was thinning and the place was getting quieter. This was the time of night I really enjoyed. My blood would always get pumping when there was lots of action, but I could relax when it was calm like this. And relaxation is a precious commodity for a mutant in today's troubled times. But of course this was only the eye of the storm, we'd get another rush in about a half an hour when the mill worker's got off.
I didn't fawn over him like I'd seen several barflies do earlier although I did put an extra sway into my walk.
That had really pissed me off, the barfly thing. He was mine and this was my territory. I wanted to claw their faces, but I refrained. It seemed every time some skank would drape herself over him, he'd push her off without a second glance. He had his sights set on me, and me alone. That was really intriguing.
I grabbed a sanitizing rag and wiped off the back counters like I did every time there was a lull and contemplated this new development in my life. Well, at least the new development in my night.
This God of War was obviously into me. He had hardly taken his (I know it's cliché but it's true) smoldering eyes off of me since he'd left the cage. So it'd be easy enough to hook up with him; he wasn't shy.
And damn did I like it when he was bold.
"What's your name?" He snagged my arm as I walked by.
I cocked an eyebrow just a bit, the side of my mouth tugging up into a smile; his hands were big.
"You can call me Becca." I answered, giving him some attention but acting as if I cared about getting back to work.
"Becca, huh?" His own eyebrow rose sexily and his lopsided smirk sent sparks through my blood. "But that's not your real name?" He didn't really ask, it was more of a knowledgeable statement.
"It's short for Rebecca." I gave him a little laugh, one that used to make photographers give me anything. He was just some bar fighter, he didn't need to know who I really was, he just needed to shut up and get me out of here.
"James." He replied. "When are you off?" He was a man of little words, at least when he wanted something, I liked that.
"When ever I want to be." I answered with an actual smile, anticipating when this awkwardness would be over and I could have him. I really was excited to see if he could pass the test.
He took the tray out of my hand and hauled me out into the dance floor amidst the surprising amount of human bodies. Damn, when did the after work rush get it? This guy is too damn distracting. I chided myself for letting him entrance me so completely; my brother would kill me if he knew I wasn't aware of my surroundings, but everything about this guy made me not care about the consequences.
The song that was playing sucked, but I soon forgot all about it. He pulled me close to his body and swayed to his own beat. Soon we were pressed much too hard together, and our mouths were delightfully close.
Come on. I coaxed silently, grinding my hips into his (thank God he wasn't too tall). Just do it. Grab me and take me!
His eyes were locked on mine, partially filled with a fierce light, and surprisingly, partially filled with wonder.
His hands roamed over my body, they felt good, and mine clutched and massaged his thick biceps as I tried to meld our bodies together. I was sick of the waiting. I wanted him now.
Finally, with a groan that spoke volumes of 'Oh, Fuck It!' he wound a hand in my hair and took my mouth with such strength my knees almost buckled. Ok so they did. He thrust his leg between my thighs to…support me.
His mouth was hard and tasted of the beer he'd been drinking. His tongue shot its way in between my lips before I even had a chance to demand it. It snaked and pushed and had its way with mine and I nearly died of excitement.
Finally! Someone who could hold their own! A man who could actually be a man!!
My body's squirming started going double-time, without me having to manufacture it. I wasn't giving this guy a chance to prove himself anymore. No, now I was the one lost in him.
It was a new sensation for me, but one that I really liked.
I'd always had to take the dominate roll with guys. They always seemed too intimidated by me when I actually wanted them. But now, it was like my desire was met by his and we fueled each other's flames to new heights.
"James," I moaned into his mouth while his hands ran roughly over me "I need to get out of here." I was panting as I kneaded his shoulders, my breasts crushed against his chest. Our dance had stopped almost as soon as we'd started kissing, and yet we were still undulating together; his leg rubbing roughly against me as we mashed ourselves together.
"Where?" He didn't know the place as well as I did. His voice was rough.
"Alley?" I suggested breathlessly. His body really was doing wicked things to mine.
"If you insist." He pulled away with a torturous gleam in his eye and pulled me out of the crowd before stopping abruptly with an apologetic frown. "Front door?"
"Back." I kissed his neck and ran a hand dangerously low down his stomach. "There." I motioned to where the exit sign shone through the smoky fog and dim lighting.
Before I knew it we were outside, our heated breath huffing out in white puffs in the dark. There was a streetlamp at the corner across the street and it gave us enough light to see.
His mouth was everywhere, kissing, biting, licking, sucking. He was driving me insane! But in all fairness, my lips and my touch seemed to be pushing him further into a rutting frenzy as well.
I was pressed against the cold wall of the bar, but protected from the wind by his broad back. My legs were wrapped around his waist, my head thrown back in delight and desire. Everything about him was so strong, so forceful. His mouth was on my neck, and his hands were kneading my hips so hard I rocked back and forth against him.
He pulled away a little, his hands moving to my shoulders his eyes piercing mine.
"You sure about this?" His voice was husky but he seemed sincere. Could he honestly stop if I told him no? Like that'd ever happen.
"Yes," I breathed, trying to rub myself against him, but he held me steady.
"Think it through." He demanded, gritting his teeth. "How old are you anyway?" He asked, suddenly unsure.
"Sweetheart, I'm a lot older than I look. My real name's Eleanor. And I wasn't named for my great grandmother."
"How old?" His blue eyes were closed so he have to look at me, his head back inhaling the night air, so he could smell something other than me. I could tell he was trying really hard to be good. I wanted him to be bad. But it was sweet he was concerned for me. That thought made me want him all the more.
"Not positive," I answered, why were we talking?!?!? "The twenties were fun though."
He smiled and buried his face back in my neck. His body sliding and rubbing against mine with new fervor as if we hadn't stopped.
"James isn't my real name anymore." His voice was harsh; his hands were busy ripping off his jacket. "I haven't been James since early 1900s, it's Logan now. Call me Logan."
"D'you heal Logan?" I asked breathlessly, struggling with the knotted ties on my apron.
A metal blade slid out of his hand and sliced through the knot. "Yep," He smiled that devilishly handsome smile at me, the blade going back into his skin "how bout you?"
"Do I look or feel over a hundred to you?" I asked with a grin, running my hands up his chest underneath his shirt. Damn he had a lot of layers on.
He chuckled throatily and ripped off the rest of his shirts, throwing them on the ground. Then he immediately went to mine. He had my button up undone and he cut my cami off in less time than I could breathe; his face buried in my midnight blue lacey bra, his rough stubble sending shivers of desire to my groin.
"You feel like heaven." He groaned from between my breasts.
"God and you feel amazing!" I bucked my hips against him, urging him on. It was nice to have someone else take my clothes off.
"Why are your jeans so tight?" He asked with a bit of humour as he tried to take them off while I was still wrapped around him.
"I could ask the same thing." I giggled while sliding off of him and unbuttoning his own.
I felt him twitch under the fabric and my mouth went dry at the prospect of fucking this man.
"Ella baby," He groaned and shucked my pants off violently, then he pulled me up and wrapping my legs around him "you ready?"
"So ready." I grinned at his nickname and in anticipation. This was gonna be real good.
He surged inside me, quickly. I told him I was ready and I was, my nail beds itched and I let my claws grow out, I dug them into the muscles of his shoulders but he didn't seem to mind, if anything, it spurred him on.
He moved quickly. Pumping me fast. He was so big it nearly hurt. But god did it feel good.
There was no gentleness, no foreplay, and I didn't care. All I wanted was this sweet, hot friction. My breasts squished against his chest, his arms holding me in place, his mouth on my neck or his tongue, rough in my mouth, mimicking our sex.
Soon I couldn't take in anymore. I bit his shoulder, holding back screams. I didn't need to tell him to go harder, faster, like I'd always had to beg the men I'd fucked before. He pounded into me ruthlessly and my eyes watered at the beauty of it, at how good he made me feel. This was the way it was supposed to feel. This was right.
I flung my head back, his name a strangled scream from my lips. He didn't slow down as I reached climax to see what I was doing. It was like he read my mind, going faster than I would have thought possible. His teeth broke the skin on my neck; the sensation sent me even higher into the waves of ecstasy. I crested them while he was still going, but we soon floated back down to earth together.
I sighed, and nestled my head in his shoulder, his scent was intoxicating. There was the sweat from the earlier fights and from our recent joining, there was smoke and beer and whisky, there was male, there was mutant, there was the scent of the wild, and there, underneath all of the chemicals and fabric softeners, under the pollutants was something that was just him; purely Logan. I smiled into his warm skin.
"Ella, darlin'," He sighed, smiling and pulled away "we should get back inside before your lovely little ass freezes to that wall."
I humoured him. But I had to lean against the wall as I shook out my jeans and put them back on (who knew where my panties were), my legs were too unsteady. No man had ever made me feel so deliciously weak and worn out. I loved it. I was afraid I'd come to crave it. But then again, I didn't care.
We stumbled back inside. His eyes lingered appreciatively on my disheveled countenance so I figured he wouldn't run off so fast as to where we couldn't have another go. He slung his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me closer, his grin was leering and playful but I sensed a hint of a blush creeping up his neck at his next words.
"I know it's kinda backwards darlin' but, can I buy you a drink?"
