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Thanks to Soon2Bme, Bastet42, jackmansgrrl, beepersheartsbrucas, JimandSteve, Brit-Babe191 (Go to your bank and write your next chapter!), bologna121, NeenaD91, ElizaV, x-LoganLover-x, starlight2twilight (Obsessed with me? Ha ha) and alexmonalisa (I love Bulmers pear cider)

This chapter has been edited as of 05/10/2013

A Hard Day's Night

So why on earth should I moan
'Cause when I get you alone
You know I feel ok

- The Beatles

"Marie, wake up darlin'," a gravelly voice says in my ear.

I stir in my sleep, my eyes flicker open and I see Logan, my Logan. Isn't life sweet? Fuck that, it's great, no, it's the best thing since Wolverine gained his muscles. I'm going to stop thinking now because I could brag until the cows come home. Logan is mine! My brain screams in excitement but outside I remain calm and collected. So what if Logan's mine? I'm going to take this all in my stride.

"Are we going to have sex now?" I ask him, my head still muddled with sleep.

Okay, now I'm bothered. But you won't catch me shouting anything from the rooftops. I'm not that kind of girl.

"You've got one hell of a one tracked mind," Logan tells me, brushing a hand across my cheek and smirking.

"You're an asshole," I inform him, catching his hand in mine. "And a mean tease."

His smirk grows so wide I think his face is close to splitting in two. "Jesus, you smell good."

I smile, trying not to show how proud I am because Logan thinks I smell nice. "I've showered twice today because of you."

If it's possible, his smirk grows even wider as he falls into bed beside me. "You're driving me crazy. I've been thinking about you all day," Logan whispers hoarsely, obviously excited because I smell of coconut.

Then why won't he ride me until the bed breaks? All I want is for him to make love to me until I scream his name and my throat grows hoarse and depressed by my inability to be normal. Please fuck me, Logan, please.

"Prove it," I reply, my hand drawing teasing circles on his firm chest.

Logan's lips smash against mine and his body reacts as I deepen the kiss. "I've been a good girl," I add him in a small whisper as I catch my breath. "I went to sleep eventually."

"Yeah, you have and yeah, you did," he responds, nodding his head and cracking a shit-eating grin.

"I've slept for eight hours straight, Logan. I have, I really have slept all that time away."

"Uh-huh," he grunts, tugging at a loose strand of my white-washed hair.

He loves the fact I'm begging and pleading with and I frown. But before I get a chance to chew him out and dance all over his dangly bits, he surprises me and I smile.

"I got you something, thought we could watch it together," Logan says lazily, draping a hand across my middle and gazing at my pouting face.

My first thought is a dirty movie, an adult film, sexually explicit art, porn. No, Logan wouldn't buy that, would he? I wish he would because ideas of a sexual nature would be planted inside my head like seeds and then I could order Logan to help me try them out.

"Pretty Woman!" I shriek excitedly, throwing my arms around his neck as he produces the DVD from a bag beside the bed. "You remembered."

Logan, A.K.A the Bad Ass Cage Fighter, wandered into town alone and into an actual store to buy me Pretty Woman. Wow, I'm lucky, and I think I'm going to cry. I'm really going to cry because he loves me and he bought a Julia Roberts DVD.

I smile at him and flick his nose. "But you said you didn't like 'chick flicks' or girlie movies."

"I don't," he snorts in amusement, kissing me on the forehead and wiping the tears away from my eyes. "And don't go crying on me, Darlin'. You've been went enough today."

"I'm not sad, Logan," I sniffle, burying my face in the crook of his beautiful neck. "I'm - This is me being happy."

"If you say so, Marie," he sighs heavily, sounding unsure and hugging me tight.

Aw, he bought this fantastic DVD just me. Logan is the perfect man because he didn't buy porn; he bought a romantic movie instead. He's all gruff and growly on the outside, but he has a heart of gold and the most beautiful penis I've ever seen. Oh no, not again.

I'm resting in Logan's arms with my head sitting on his chest as we watch Pretty Woman from the comfort of his bed. As the credits draw to a close I've noticed two things: he has smoked sixteen cigars in less than two hours and my hands are yet again grasping his belt buckle. They've been grasping and stroking the cool metal for the entire movie and he hasn't said a word.

"So, what did you think?" I ask him, rubbing my pale cheek against his nipple because I can.

"I think it went on too damn long and I've never seen a hooker that looked likeher," Logan answers, tugging the white streak in my hair gently and rolling his eyes.

"Logan, I don't like your answer," I scoff, pulling a face that lets him know I'm unhappy with a pinch of nervousness thrown in. "How many hookers have you met before?"

"A few hundred," he admits, shrugging at my shock.

My eyes swell and I decide that's not going to be the only thing that's swollen in a second. "Over one hundred? I think that makes you the king of dicks."

I unbuckle his belt and undo the button of his denim jeans with quick fingers. His gaze locks with mine and he raises a bushy eyebrow in question. Oh, it's about time I taught this hooker-loving asshole a lesson. You can't mess with the Rogue and get away with it.

"Marie," he rumbles, his eyes darkening with lust. "What are you doing?"

"Shh!" I hush him, my hand inching closer to his pride and very large joyful joy. No, it's his Logan Junior. Um, what about his burping bub or his largish, lumping lout? No, that doesn't make sense. It only burps when he's exploding in pleasure and I haven't seen that yet.

I pull the zipper down slowly, leaning in for a closer peek and blushing. "You're not wearing underwear," I whisper softly, not that it surprises me. "But I like it that way. I can really see your slug and it's huge.

Logan snorts. "Yeah, I agree, but I'm not a fan of the name."

Giggling, I blindly stroke the length of Logan's favourite toy and watch his face. He grits his teeth, his eyes snap closed and he grunts, the sweat building on his brow. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" I asked, a little worried by his reaction.

"No," he grunts, releasing a deep breath as he hardens. "Hell no."

I fumble and stroke for a while, going with the flow and trying to understand what he likes. But as I think he's going to burst like a Wolverine-shaped balloon, his eyes open and he growls deeply. My gaze drops to my hand and I frown.

"Your slug's splattered and spat all over me," I murmur, feeling depressed and holding my palm up to get a better look. "That's not fair. I was trying to tease you."

Why does everybody else get to orgasm but me? It's just not fair! I didn't know Logan's fat caterpillar was going to puke and decorate my hand with his appreciation.

I spring from the bed and leave a very happy and content Logan behind so I can wash my hands under the tap. I'm really on the edge here and it isn't fun in the slightest. Patting my hands dry with a towel, I pad softly back into the room and stand at the foot of the bed where Logan is slipping on his belt.

"That was good, Darlin'," he compliments, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me to stand between his thighs. "Real good."

"I'm glad you liked it, Logan." I reply sarcastically, frowning down at him and huffing because life isn't fair. "When is it my turn? You said 'later' and if you haven't noticed it's already dark outside. That means it's now later and I want in now rather than later."

Logan glances at the clock and rests his calloused hands on my shapely ass. "I told 'Ro we'd make an appearance at dinner, Marie."

Maybe I'm losing my mind a little earlier than planned? Yes, that must be it, or a huge lack of sexual pleasure has caused my hearing to deteriorate and I can no longer hear clearly, because I'm sure Logan just told me we were joining the X-Men for dinner.

"Very funny," I mutter with saucer-eyes and a half growl. "You wouldn't have told Storm we were going to the dinner with Bobby's mama and daddy. You don't like them and I still want to cut Bobby Drake's balls off with a pair of toenail scissors."

"Yeah, I did," he answers matter-of-factly. "She wanted us to be there."

"Why would you do that without asking me? I hate them, Logan. I. Hate. Them. You know I hate them so how hateful do I need to be before you understand I hate them hatefully?"

"Well, Storm wants us there," he shrugs, standing up and stalking toward the door. "Come on, we're going be too late to make a dent in the beer."

"No, she wants you there," I tell him, folding my arms. "And I didn't agree to anything with anybody, Logan."

"Just move your damn ass, Kid. I want a beer and you need to learn some humility."

He called me a kid again! He called me 'Kid' and he knows I hate that, especially when we're sleeping together. It's another way to tell me he doesn't value my opinions. "How can you call me 'kid' when I just bled your pencil free of liquid lead?"

Logan opens the door and tosses a dark look over his shoulder. "You're acting like one, Marie, and I don't care what you've done. I gave Storm your word."

"I'm not acting like a kid!" I repeat furiously, my voice spiking with loud anger. "I didn't agree to anything and you've sprung this on my deliberately, Logan! That's why you bought that DVD. It was a bribe!"

He heaves a heavy sigh and scowls at me. "Shift your goddamn ass and stop arguing with me. That DVD wasn't a bribe."

"But we had plans tonight, Logan, and I'm not changing them because of the fucking Drakes!"

No, that's seriously not happening while I have a say in my life and a tongue in my mouth. I plan on getting laid, not once, not twice, but many, many times tonight. If I don't kill Logan first, that is. This had better lead to make-up sex, because I think we're having our first, 'Hell yeah, we're a couple!' fight.

Logan growls and stalks over, kissing me roughly on the lips and claiming every inch of my mouth. "We're not going to change our plans, you hear?"

"Do you promise?" I ask suspiciously, hugging him tightly and still wanting to wring his muscular neck.

"Yeah, I promise," he answers gruffly, wrapping his arms around me and tossing me over his shoulder. "You're also going to that dinner even if I have to carry you, Marie. The beer isn't enough to stop me going stir crazy with that family."

"I hate you, Logan," I hiss grumpily, folding my arms and huffing.

"Yeah, course you do, Darlin'. Course you do," he chuckles, carrying me out his bedroom.

Jesus Christ, how long does one dinner party have to go on for? I never used to be this impatient, but maybe it's the promise of some naked alone time with Logan that's got me so jittery, yet irritable. I want to run around the room and staple everybody's mouth shut because the more they talk, the longer this stupid dinner will last.

I would rather be anywhere else in the world but here. There are so many places that appeal to me, like Logan's bed. Logan's bed would be number one in my list of ultimate places to be during a pointless formal dinner from Hell.

"Rogue," Storms calls softly, interrupting my high-charged and sexually tense thoughts. "I said can you please pass the peas?"

"Yes, sure, of course I can," I mumble, embarrassed when I feel everybody's eyes on me.

I pass Storm the bowl of peas and nudge the food about on my plate with my fork. I'm just not in the mood for eating, I want to be writhing and panting under Logan. I want to be made to scream his name as I see shimmering stars of pleasure dangle in my eyes. Ooh, I know what else dangles, too! It spits and dangles, but I still love Logan's cock.

A heavy hand glides across my knee and it stops dangerously close to the apex of my thighs, making me splutter on my tongue. No, he can't, not here! With a single, lustful look in his direction, I try to scoot my chair away from Logan, but he curls his foot around my chair leg and stops me from escaping.

"I can smell you, Darlin'," he whispers huskily in my ear as the idle chatter continues around us. "You're already wet for me, huh?"

My first thought as I feel his hand trace the trim of my panties is; why the hell did I wear a skirt? My second thought is lost as those two evil fingers of his enter me, and I bite back a helpless gasp.

In sheer terror somebody will find out what's happening, I force a bread roll into my mouth to stop my giddy self from crying out. I'm going to kill him. I know this dinner party is boring, but he's the one who wanted to come.

"Rogue, are you okay?" Hank asks me in a mildly concerned tone. "You look a little flushed."

The entire table of guests all watch me with varying looks ranging from worried, curious and smug.

"She's fine," Logan responds, raising an eyebrow at me and winking. "Aren't you, Darlin'?"

I nod my head, not trusting myself to speak and the conversation starts up again, meaning that I'm no longer the main attraction. Jubilee continues to watch me for a little while longer, but turns and also joins in with the chatter.

He continues to caress my folds and sip his beer as dessert is brought to the table. While I'm, well, I'm having the time of my life. I'll never refuse to attend another dinner party again if this is what I can look forward to.

But then, once again, his fingers disappear and my fun is over for the moment. I glare at him as he leans over and talks in my ear. "Now you've got a reason to be wet."

"Asshole," I reply huffily, shifting in my seat as the wetness seeps into my panties and leaves me feeling uncomfortable.

"I've been called worse," he snorts, slouching back in his chair, beer bottle in hand.

I bet he has. I wonder if he'd agree to an encore, because that was heaven on a plate of gold plated fries with chicken and chilli sauce. But before I have a chance to ask him, something smashes my attention in the face with a baseball bat.

"We thought it would be better if Ronnie didn't come this time," I overhear Bobby's mom saying to Storm, a large wine glass nursing in her bony, freckled hand.

Yes, Ronnie, the dark sheep of the family and the boy that caused Logan to be shot in the head right in front of me. I'd never been so scared in my life and it was because that prick-less wonder contacted the police and blatantly lied to them!

"He's staying with his grandparents in Sacramento-"

"I hope they don't have a telephone," I blurt out rudely as everybody stars at me again.

"I don't understand," Bobby's mom replies, her lips pursing over the edge of her wine glass.

What the hell does she mean she doesn't understand? Are handsome mutants shot in the head on her front porch ever day?

"Well, the next person that gets shot in the head on your doorstep might not be so lucky," I retort, propping my elbows on the table.

"Rogue, I don't think this is the time or place for a talk like this," Storm sighs, attempting to calm the situation and pacify my growing anger at the family sitting across the table from me.

"Have you even apologised to Logan yet?" I question Mrs. Drake as she finishes her glass of wine and pours yet another.

"My Ronnie didn't mean any harm by it and your Professor Logan looks good for a man that was shot in the head," she replies with a smile.

"I would wipe that smile off your face if I were you, lady," I snarl in warning, my knuckles turning sheer white as I grip my bottle of beer.

"Rogue" Logan growls deeply. "Not now."

"What the heck are you talking about, Logan?" I snap, glaring at him. "You were shot dead thanks to her son and she's smiling at me like an idiot. I saw you die and she's smiling!"

"I understand you would be upset by recent events, Rogue, but don't talk to my wife like that." Bobby's dad orders me, pointing a stubby finger in my direction. "I'm telling you that much. You won't like me when I'm angry."

"That sounds like a threat, Bub," Logan growls, slamming his bottle on the table with his eyes boring into Mr. Drake. "What are you planning on doing if she doesn't stop?"

"I - I don't know," he stammers suddenly, looking nervous.

"I think we all need to calm down," Storm announces regally, standing to her feet and holding out her hands. "Please, this is supposed to be a pleasant evening."

"What recent events?" Jubilee asks, her brow crinkling curiously. "What did he mean by Roguey would be upset by recent events?"

She has a point, what did he mean by that? I glance at the Drakes and Bobby seems to have paled slightly. "Yeah, what did you mean, Mr. Drake?" I quiz stubbornly, all thoughts of mind blowing sex now forgotten.

"You and my son," he answers, weary of Logan growling beside me. "Bobby talked about your relationship with us this morning and I'm sure you feel guilty about the way you behaved towards him, but he had every right to break up with you."

There have been many times in my life that I've been angry. Like the time I failed math test because my teacher didn't like mutants, or the time the local convenient store had run out of chocolate ice cream. Damn it, I think it's about time I make another speech, because I'm excellent at speeches in front of stupid crowds.

I leap to my feet and walked around the table, wanting to punch Bobby in between the eyes."Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once!" I hiss furiously, my face inches from his. "You were the biggest mistake of my life. I've moved on and have found someone that makes me scream in pleasure with just one touch!" I wave my hand in his face to drive home the message. "One touch, Bobby. You could never do that, could you? I thought all men were plagued with small, tiny, little trumpets, but hey, it must run in the family."

I frown, peering at Mr. Drake. "And I never cheated on your son," I tell the Drakes. "He cheated on me. I probably shouldn't say this, but hey, we're all friends here, right? He obviously learnt that behaviour from somewhere! I'm on the right path aren't I, Mrs. Drake? How long have you been seeing the butcher again?"

She sputters and spits as her husband jumps to his feet, starting to roar as his words shoot from his lips. "You've been doing what?!"

A hand grips my upper arm and tugs me to the door. "Damn, Darlin'," Logan sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his tired face. We walk out the room with ear-splitting voices following us up the stairs. "That's the last time I make you go to one of those ritzy dinners."

"Have things calmed down now?" I ask Logan timidly, wondering if Bobby's parents are still shouting downstairs.

"Pretty much," he says, settling in the bed beside me and settling down for the night. "They're leaving."

I smile at that and hug his side. "Good. That's the best news I've heard all year."

"Separately, though," he adds, snorting.

"Okay, fine, maybe I went a little overboard," I mutter softly, brushing a hand over his chest and tracing my fingers over his Canadian nipples.

"No, you didn't," Logan grunts, gazing at the ceiling with a stony look. "You made a good job of taking a wrecking ball to their family. Don't listen to Storm or the Drakes; you had every right to say your piece."

I chew on my lip for a moment and soak up his words with a half smile. He thinks I did the right thing and that sends warm, fuzzy feelings through my cracked and crazy soul. "Logan, at the risk of sounding obsessed, are we going to do it now?"

I hear him sigh heavily and he begins to stroke my hair. "He hurt you, Darlin'."

"Who hurt me?" I question curiously, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"The Ice Prick, he hurt you."

"I don't want to talk about Bobby! I'm sick of hearing that name today, Logan. I don't want to talk about that idiot."

"Well I do," he grunts simply, patting my head.

"That's silly," I whine, sitting up in a flash and watching him with a pleading look of growing despair. "I'm here in your bed, so why aren't we having sex? I want sex! Please, let's have sex."

"Marie," Logan orders gruffly, resting his hands on my hips. He lifts me onto his lap so I'm straddling him and cups my face, forcing our eyes to meet. "Listen to me. I said I'd take care of you, Darlin', and that's what I'm going do." His eyes harden as he talks. "Even if I have to protect you from me, understand?"

"But this isn't what your promise meant, and I want to have sex with you."

"I'm not saying this is a bad idea of sorts, but we need to take this slow. I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not going to hurt me, Logan," I reply steadily, trying to keep the disappointment from creeping into my voice.

"You don't know that," he responds bluntly, holding me close. "And I'm not going to change my mind."

"Fine, no sex," I huff in disappointment. "But thanks for caring about me."

I can't stay mad at Logan because other guys in his position would have fucked me straight away, without their conscience being bothered or poked. I know people think Logan is a temperamental ass, but when he's around me he has always shown a caring side.

I kiss him on the lips and lay back down, a smile swimming across my lips. I wonder if Jubilee wants to go shopping tomorrow?