A week later, Logan and Marie were at a different fight bar, doing shots of tequila between beers. Their conversation grew less stilted as the night wore on, though Logan could see Marie getting antsy when he made no move to join the ongoing fights.
He'd invited her out tonight after a session in the Danger Room. She'd turned up around ten, but it was nearly eleven and they were still at the bar. It probably wasn't nice, but he was enjoying watching her fidget in anticipation. He was tired of waiting. He wanted her off balance. On edge.
"They're callin' for fighters again, sugar."
He grunted. "You lookin' to get my shirt off?"
Marie rolled her eyes. "God! Arrogant, much?"
Logan just shrugged. He knew what his body did to women. "Nah. Not fightin' tonight." He felt the urge, sure, but it wasn't smart to fight too often. It drew too much attention. It was smarter to fly under the radar or to fight further from home.
Her face fell, just for a moment, before she covered it up.
He still smirked, enjoying the flash of irritation in her eyes at his smug expression. "You know, I don't need the fightin' to wanna get off."
It was a shocking concept to her, that they might do this without the excuse of a fight ramping things up first. Following the natural fight-fuck progression seemed to make it easier for them both, but he wasn't in the mood for easy tonight. He wanted more from her. God knew she demanded her pound of flesh from him in a way that made him feel exposed and raw. She'd damn well join him there twisting in the wind or she could shove off.
"I don't either," she snapped, taking a healthy swallow of her beer and looking over the room. "Though I seem to remember you saying you picked while you were in the cage."
He just grunted at that.
"How about her?"
Her defiant response caught him off guard. He hadn't imagined she'd suggest someone. She probably wouldn't have if he hadn't made her feel defensive about being here. About wanting to watch him have sex without the euphoria following the fights excusing what came after. He'd said he'd take her requests into consideration, but never imagined she'd have the balls to suggest someone outright. He should have known.
It wasn't even close to what he'd wanted from her tonight, but he couldn't deny there was a part of him that wanted to make her pay for not having the guts to be honest about what she really wanted from him.
Logan looked over at her choice, a startlingly slender beauty with white-blond hair and eyes so pale they were barely blue. He shook his head.
"Too skinny?"
"Too pregnant," he muttered.
"How…?"
Logan tapped his nose.
Marie made a face, clearly surprised by that information. "What about her, then."
He took a sip of his beer and looked over to where a young woman with black hair and striking green eyes had been steadily putting away Jack and Cokes for the last hour. The pixie cut suited her, framing her heart-shaped face and showing off her eyes. She looked like a good girl who'd ransacked her closet trying to look tough. Black leather jacket with some kinda dark blouse under it. Black skinny jeans that showed off her long legs. Fucking hot leopard print pumps. Logan did appreciate a good pair of fuck-me heels.
She had that 'good girl gone slumming' look, but her eyes were sad. More baggage there than he wanted. In his experience, it was easier to pick someone who knew the score, not someone there to blunt the pain of a bad breakup, or to forget a shitty day at the office, or to prove something to her spoiled little girlfriends. Those women tended not to know the unspoken rules. They wanted to stare into his eyes and kiss him on the mouth and feel him hold them after.
Christ.
There was a significant difference between a passionate one night stand and a rough, sweaty fuck with a nameless stranger that was over in minutes.
"Fine," he said with a perverse sense of satisfaction.
Be careful what you ask for, darlin'.
As if she'd sensed him calling her bluff, she doubled down. "In the bathroom." His eyebrows damn near shot off his face. "I wanna see you mark her."
That definitely had the feeling of a gauntlet being thrown down.
It still made the blood pool hot and thick between his legs.
Fuck.
"She ain't gonna go for it." Good girl like that? She might be up for something hot and dirty with him, but letting someone else watch? He doubted it.
"Yes, she will."
She said it with such conviction that he wondered if she knew something he didn't.
"You gonna go talk to her then?"
Heh. There went her eyes, wide and incredulous that he'd even suggest such a thing.
"No. You are."
"Kid—" She was pissing him off. He wasn't her fucking lapdog.
"Twenty bucks says she agrees."
He was annoyed with her high-handedness, but he wanted to prove her wrong more.
"Deal."
~ooOoo~
Logan lost the bet.
He might have lost the battle, but he damn sure wasn't going to lose the war.
The bathroom was ridiculously small. It made him smile. There was no way for Marie not to have a front row seat for the action. The stall was cramped. He could feel the girl tense under his fingers as they all piled in. She was nervous, eyes wild like a hungry spring doe about to bolt.
"Get the lock, darlin'." It was an order. He wanted to be sure Marie wouldn't run, too. Or at least make it harder if she did. Maybe give himself a little time to try to change her mind. Marie complied and then immediately backed herself up against the door.
Logan pressed the girl against the side of the stall. She was trembling. "Shhh… S'all right. I gotcha." He kissed her; a slow, deep, wet kiss that rocked all of them. He didn't usually do that, but he knew right from the beginning that this wasn't going to be anything like the usual for any of them.
They were all walking on the edge.
She clung to him as he kissed her, growing more pliant as his hands roamed her back and hips. When he palmed her breast, she moaned into his mouth and rolled her pelvis against him, rubbing against his erection.
Shifting so it would hit her just right, he put his arm behind her and pulled her into the hard grind. Her leg came up, opening her hips to him and winding around his thigh. She wanted it, but she was still holding back. Still on the edge of running, tense and shivery.
Marie gasped quietly.
The soft, needy sound seemed to polarize the woman in his arms.
She pushed at his broad chest.
"I don't know if I can do this, babe. Sorry."
Logan fought the urge to throw a triumphant look over at Marie. Instead, he met the girl's watery green eyes. She was obviously struggling, on the edge of tears, wanting something wild— but afraid, too. He hoped that wasn't a lesson lost on Marie.
"Honey, you came here lookin' for somethin' from a man like me." The girl nodded, bottom lip caught in her teeth. "Lemme give it to ya." He stroked her hair. "You'll like it." He rubbed up against her again, smiling a little as her breath caught and her hands clenched in his shirt. "C'mon. You'll be safe with me."
Under the sooty sweep of her lashes, he saw the girl's eyes flick to Marie. The girl blushed and he watched the sweep of color creep over her pale cheeks. In his experience, there were two kinds of women; those who got off on being watched — who liked that feeling of power it gave them over someone else — and those who couldn't really let themselves go enough to cross whatever internal lines in the sand they needed to enjoy the more uninhibited side of sex.
This young woman was clearly in the second camp.
"Close your eyes," he murmured against the soft skin of her throat, letting her feel the wet heat of his tongue and the blunt pressure of his teeth against that shivery spot behind her ear. He whispered then, softly enough that he wasn't sure Marie would hear it over the wild beating of her own heart. "Pretend she ain't here. S'just you and me, honey. She won't touch ya. Won't talk to you. I don't share."
That was the truth. It was also the right thing to say. He felt the resistance go out of her and he lifted his head, checking to be sure the girl's eyes were closed before looking over at Marie, pointedly.
She met the heated gaze and gave him a casual little shrug that seemed to imply she was not at all sorry he was having to work to convince her choice— and in fact, she was impatiently waiting for him to just get on with it.
That pissed him off as much as it turned him on.
He was gonna make her pay for that.
He kissed the girl again. She tasted sweet and spicy. Jack and Coke and a little salty, too. He took his time, enjoying her soft little whimpers as he rubbed her against his erection. Making her want it. Bad. Finding those little places that made her writhe and squirm and clutch at his hair. Rubbing the rough stubble of his face against her skin. Licking. Biting. He wanted her desperate.
"I wantcha to do somethin' for me, honey." She started to sink to her knees and he pulled her back up, shaking his head. "Not that." He almost felt bad about her look of confusion. "Touch yourself."
He heard Marie gasp softly and growled in his throat, partly to obscure the sound and partly because lighting Marie's fire lit him pretty good, too.
"Babe—"
"Gets me fuckin' hot watchin' a woman put her hand down her pants." He deliberately used that phrase from the other night on the dock. He wasn't talking about the woman in his arms and Marie knew it, if the sound of her backing up hard enough to rock the sturdy stall door in the metal frame was any indication. "Don't think. Just do it."
She did it, hurriedly popping the button of her jeans, the zipper spreading wide as she slid her hand inside. His eyes flared. He could only imagine what was going through Marie's head.
"God…"
"Tell me whatcha feel." He liked the blush too much not to see how far he could push. "Tell me."
"Soft. W-warm…." The girl's legs shook as her arm began to move rhythmically. "Wet…"
"Push a finger in." He kept touching her. Breasts. Hips. Waist. Nape. Spine. Petting her with slow, maddening strokes. "I know it ain't whatcha want, honey," he crooned. "I know it ain't whatcha need. You coulda just stayed home if your own touch was enough." He didn't give a shit if his words were too pointed. He was having a hard time keeping this between the lines. "I got whatcha need right here." He pushed his erection against her thigh. "Deeper," he rasped, watching the small movements of her arm.
The most graphic thing about it was his words and the husky tone with which he'd given the erotic order. Her dark, floaty blouse pretty much hid everything but her full-body shiver when she complied with his demand. The girl's eyes slid shut and he risked a look at Marie. She was stunned into stillness, her hands clenched into fists and her pulse beating an unsteady tattoo in his ears. She smelled like pure sex.
It affected him, and not in a nice way. He was not feeling at all nice.
"Taste yourself."
The girl pulled her hand from her pants. He could see the glisten on her fingers, but she hesitated, eyes downcast.
"Look at me, honey."
She did and he leaned in close, putting the bulk of his body between the girl and Marie. "Lemme see you do it." He rubbed a palm against the obvious erection throbbing insistently under his belt buckle. Letting her see what she did to him. "Lemme take you there." He knew she just needed a little push.
He was right.
She brought her fingers to her mouth.
He nodded, pleased. "You ever done that before?"
She shook her head. He was a little surprised. She was young, early twenties, but she looked like the type who'd be pretty uninhibited in the context of a monogamous relationship.
"Tell me how it tastes."
Behind him, he felt the air vibrate as Marie shook.
"S-sweet."
"Good girl." That produced a shudder in both women. "Again." He reached for his buckle, feeling the power of that moment. He held both women in thrall, had what both of them wanted, even though that was two very different things. "I wanna see that little hand workin' between your legs."
Marie moaned that time, but the girl was too far in her own head to hear it, thank Christ.
"Stop," he ordered when he realized the girl was about to come. He chuckled when she whimpered, but she complied with his order. Maybe she'd always been afraid to explore her submissive side. For Logan, the experience was more about winding Marie up, but giving the girl a taste of something wilder was doing it for him pretty good, too.
The girl pulled her hand from her pants. "Gimme a taste this time." He swirled his tongue around the girl's wet fingers. She was right. She did taste sweet. "Mmm…" He slurped up the last of her glossy welcome with relish. It was hard to keep the animal leashed with the scent of sex filling his senses.
Turning her, he put the girl's back to his front, securing her to him with a thick arm across her chest. "Open your mouth." He smirked as both women followed that direction. "Suck." He pushed a thumb into the girl's mouth. She moaned around his thumb, flushed and panting. He guided her hands up to the hook on wall above her head. "Hang on, honey."
Her fingers tightened on it as he pushed his own hand down the front of her pants. She was wet and slick. Ready. Needy. His eyes moved to Marie, only to find her dark eyes were locked on his arm, watching the tendons bunch and release as he fingered the girl. The expression on her face told him that if he touched her like that, he'd find the same thing. A slippery welcome and a throbbing need to be filled.
It made the animal howl, wild to spread the slip and slick of her over his fingers. To penetrate her. To mark her. To claim her and own her and make her shatter against him.
"That ain't whatcha need either, is it? Even a couple of thick fingers ain't gonna put that fire out." Both women panted. The woman in his arms moaned as he stretched her on his long, blunt fingers. "Goddamn," he grunted, thrusting against her ass a few times until he got himself back under control.
He put his teeth on her neck, nipping until she whimpered. "I'm gonna make you come like this. Good n' hard. Then I'm gonna pull down your pants and pound ya against this wall until we both come."
Marie was bracing herself on the adjacent wall, clearly in danger of losing her feet. The girl in his arms came with a scream that she should have muffled if she had any damn sense at all.
Logan shifted into position and had the girl's pants pulled down before she'd even caught her breath. He gave himself a few lazy strokes before he rolled the condom on, hearing Marie's breath grow shallow and erratic. She liked seeing him touch himself. He wondered if he could make her want it enough to touch herself. Here. Now.
Fisting himself firmly a few more times because he liked the way it made Marie's eyes black and wild, Logan moved to enter the girl.
"No…" She twisted away. "I want to see your face…"
Christ. She was already turning, kicking off her shoes and pulling her legs from her pants. Standing there, cock throbbing in his fingers, he wondered if maybe he hadn't done too good a job with the little black-haired pixie girl. She was so far out of her head with desire that she didn't even register Marie's presence anymore.
They were all in too deep to stop now. Gritting his teeth, he met the girl's eyes, stormy green with lust now, and wrapped her leg around his hip. Her blouse slid up and he saw the faint tracing of pinkish marks on her flat belly that told him she'd had a child some time in the last year or so. He pushed that knowledge away, not wanting to think about anything but the sex. It wasn't hard to do. He was teasing her, rubbing the blunt tip of his erection between her legs and crudely stimulating them both.
"Hard," she whispered, squeezing him. "I wanna feel it tomorrow."
Hoisting her up, he shoved in with enough force that it shook the stall. The girl pulled him even closer. She ran her hands under his shirt, stroking the heavy bands of muscle and touching the hair on his chest and under his arms. She scratched her fingers into the scruff along his jaw, holding his eyes, clinging to him like a rag doll. Dragging her mouth up the stubble on his throat. She seemed to revel in all the details of his masculinity.
Catching Marie's eye, he grunted one word that could have been meant for either woman. "Move."
Marie moved, sliding her back along the door until she slipped past the corner so her back now was resting less than an arm's length away on the same wall as the girl in his arms. It was as close as he could come to fucking them both without actually doing it.
He was not gentle.
He used his hands and his mouth… and his teeth. Left a chain of bruises across her chest, pulling the blood close to the surface with his lips and tongue. Feeling the coppery rush under her skin but not tasting it.
Logan slammed into the girl, grunting with the force of the concussive thrusts that rocked all of them. Marie could clearly feel the vibration through the metal wall of the stall, heaving under her back as he pushed them all closer to orgasm.
The girl tipped over first, squeezing down on him with tight little flutters that made him grit his teeth and snarl. She turned her face away from them both, baring her neck submissively. He bit her then, hard. Marked inside and out. She'd sure as hell feel that tomorrow.
Marie turned towards him. He looked back, face mere inches away from hers now, and grunted out his own coming. Eyes locked on hers, he pumped helplessly into a different body, feeling a strange disjointedness to be emotionally connected to one woman while coming inside another.
The aftermath was uncomfortable for them all. The girl needed help to keep her feet. Marie was staring at him unsteadily, watching him pull out and strip off the full condom. Goddamn her for not giving him even a few moments of privacy when he felt the most vulnerable. Spent. Shaken. Raw and exposed.
"Hey," he growled softly as Marie's hand reached for the lock.
Now he knew where she was running. And why. She urgently needed the same release he'd just given the pixie girl. Still— a hollow imitation of what it could be. Surely, she knew that now that he'd driven the point home so ruthlessly.
She turned and he threw her his keys. "Use my truck."
Her whole body seemed to shudder with the impact of his words.
"Bench seat," he couldn't help but adding, still stinging from earlier.
"Fuck you," she spat. But she took his keys anyway.
Her abrupt departure didn't make things any easier.
The girl in his arms finished zipping herself into her pants and used his bulk to steady herself enough to slip those fierce leopard heels back on. Her eyes were wet. Cloudy where they'd been fierce and stormy before.
Shit. Baggage. He fucking knew it.
"Sorry," she said, looking at the floor and wiping away the trickle of tears. "It's my anniversary," she added as if that explained everything. "Four years." Logan mentally adjusted her age up a few years. All her confession did was raise questions he didn't want to ask, but he understood there was a certain give and take to be negotiated in the aftermath, especially with someone who didn't do this kind of thing regularly. He wasn't that much of an asshole.
"He forget?"
The girl shook her head.
"Cheated on ya?"
Another head shake and a lot more tears.
"No. He died nine weeks ago in Afghanistan."
"Christ."
"'One more tour, baby,' he said. Country first, then family? He never even got to hold our son! How is that right? You're the first man I've touched in nineteen months."
Logan grimaced. That was too much intimacy. Too much honesty.
"Would he have been the man you loved if he put his honor aside for the comfort of home?"
"No."
She didn't say another word. He didn't either. Logan poured the weepy girl into a cab and was nursing a beer at the bar when the bartender brought him his keys and a message.
"Hey, man. You the Wolverine?"
"Who's askin', bub?"
"A brunette with a stripe in her hair gave me these. Said to tell you that you owe her twenty bucks."
"Shit." He shook his head.
"She also said to tell you to go fuck yourself. Looked like she meant it, too."
"She did."
He palmed the keys.
The thought of her getting off in the cab of his truck was nothing compared to the luscious scent she'd left behind.
It tortured him with every black mile that rolled under the wheels.
Up next: Coals. In which the Wolverine wants more answers and the Rogue wants her pound of flesh...
