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"Shit, Rogue… What the hell do you think you're doin'! Do you have a fuckin' death wish?" Logan's extraordinary eyes blazed down at her, lit from within with a sudden fury.
"Do YOU?" There was a critical tone to her voice as she roughly thrust him away and pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. She moved without haste, but with stubborn unhurried purpose.
Still, she blinked, feeling lightheaded and stumbled slightly, her weakness and Logan's quick animosity making her fit to be tied. He rose swiftly and caught her abruptly by the elbow. She yanked free. He glared.
"The hell does that mean?" he ripped out the words impatiently, walking the line between derision and sympathy. He put a massive hand up to rub the drops from his mouth and nose and shook his wild head, spraying the slippery slate.
"It means that I nearly killed Bobby this mornin'!"
Anger had added shine to her eyes and color to her cheeks. He wasn't sure if those were tears that clung to her lashes or pool water. He wavered, caught off guard by her revelation and shut his mouth, momentarily rebuffed.
"Oh, and I found this." There was no vestige of sympathy in her hardness as she held up a shiny piece of metal between her fingertips, daring him to deny it as it caught the light. He froze, solid as a Greek statue. Something flickered far back in his eyes like heat lightning, raising gooseflesh along her dripping bare skin.
"Where did you get that?" The deep rumble, though quiet, held a warning, like an ominous storm lining the distant skyline.
"That's not an answer." Rogue's voice faded, losing what little steel it had.
"Give it to me." Logan's face was stone beneath the dark wisps of hair that fell forward and clung to the moisture on his damp forehead.
She lifted her chin in defiance, her eyes filled with a fierce sheen.
"No." she retorted with calm, cold scorn.
"Rogue…" Logan's manner was commanding, with the appearance of someone who demanded instant submission. His stance emphasized the force of his thighs and the slimness of his hips, the muscles rippling under his white shirt, clinging to his perfect male form, yard wide shoulders straining against the sodden fabric.
She felt screams of frustration scratching at the back of her throat, beyond intimidation as this point, fists balled tightly at her sides.
"Why the hell won't anybody tell me the fuckin' truth around here!" The accusation rang out around the cavern like a gunshot. Logan stiffened at her newfound hair trigger temper as though she'd fired the bullet herself, and struck him point blank in the chest, her outcry unleashing something inside.
"So, you thought you'd find it at the bottom of a fucking pool?" he snarled.
White knuckled and nose flaring, he hung on to his sanity for dear life. He'd never felt anything like this before… Not even close. At least, not that he had any memory of. Unfathomable rage, terror, guilt, sorrow, joy… the unbearable desire to drink from the rivers running down her skin and taste every inch of her, to mark her with his teeth and warm her flesh with his own… all singing through his veins, protruding from the bulk of his arms, his breathing shallow as if he was half mad and wanted to pounce and drive his deadly claws into something, anything more tangible than his fucking feelings.
She was unmoved by Logan's hostility and showed no signs of relenting. She would not be put down by this massive bullheaded brute. Not even one with abs like those. Closer to an unfinished sculpture than a real person… Chiseled into that second skin he was trying to pass off as a shirt… Straight out of an action movie…
His arresting good looks nearly derailed her ire.
"Don't change the subject." She retorted accusingly, letting all pretense fly to the wind.
His mouth twisted wryly as he sized up this tiny, saucy southern girl, brave enough to take him head on without flinching. And probably the only person in the world who could…
"Ok. You want the truth? Some things are better left the hell alone, Rogue." He pointed at the ground, emphasizing his speech.
His contemptuous inflection sparked her own bitterness, and it spilled over into her argument.
"You mean like me?" she crossed her arms defensively across her chest, shivering. She was no longer sure if it was from her frazzled nerves or the chill.
"Like whatever the hell's got you sitting at the bottom of the deep end going for the fucking world record! Like…" he let out a long audible sigh, lips thin in aggravation. He hung his hands on the waistband of his jeans. He grit his teeth, battling for dominion over his animal nature, roaring at him to keep her safe no matter what it cost him. Even if that meant lying to her. Or tying her up and throwing her over his shoulder until Jean's insane alter ego took a hike.
Or… walking away. And never looking back.
He threw his hands up, enraged, and lowered his gruff voice. "Like me, Rogue."
"So, that's it, huh? You think that I regret gettin' offa that jet? Shoot." He mimicked his hands on his hips with false bravado. "Last time it sucked me clean out a big hole. Figured I'd leave willingly next chance I got." She drawled with a demure smile.
His aloof coldness was evidence that he was not amused.
"No. I don't think you regret it. I think you'd do it again. And again, and again! That's the fucking problem, Rogue!" Logan grated harshly, trapping her arms in a vice like grip that dug deeper as fear of losing her made him more ferocious and gave her a little shake. "I'm no good for you! I'm not whatever the hell it is you think I am!" recovering, he turned her loose, guilt ridden. When he spoke again, his voice was tender, but edged carefully with control. "…And I'm sure as shit not worth dyin' for." He shook his head, pleading with her to understand.
A black silence surrounded them.
What about your promise? The Wolverine growled, viciously rattling the bars of his cage.
This is the only way that I know how to keep it. So, shut the hell up. Logan snapped back.
The Wolverine lunged at him, slashing, gnashing and snarling. He threw his head back and howled… as his heart broke.
Rogue dropped her lashes quickly to hide the hurt and longing that lay naked there and inclined her head ever so slightly, nodding.
"Ya know, I could say the same thing, Logan. You don't wanna be the hero?" her voice was soft, low and silvery, only a tiny rasp hung on her words, and drew a step closer to him. "Then go." She clutched at his giant paw of a hand and dropped the heavy adamantium bullet into it, and folded his long calloused fingers around it. She stayed absolutely still for a moment and gently shrugged in mock resignation. "I won't ask you to stay." She raised her chin, eyes critical, with a coolly impersonal tone and backed away. "Not this time." She turned on her heel without waiting for an answer. She could feel his sharp eyes boring into her as she released him from whatever it was that he thought he owed her.
The muscles in his forearm hardened as he gripped it tight, until he felt the all too familiar warm, slick evidence of blood soak his hand and slip between his knuckles.
"If I'd listened you wouldn't have had to be one." Logan's confession sounded hollow, like the echo from an empty tomb.
Rogue stalled in her steps, but refused to go back. She wouldn't beg someone to love her.
She made her way to the bar and fell into a stool on wobbly knees, and reached behind the counter and came up with a dusty bottle of Jim Beam and a tumbler. She unscrewed the lid, threw it on the counter, and poured herself a generous serving. To hell with the legality. She tipped her head back and drank, bringing her shaking fingers to her lips at the bite and coughed slightly, throat still a little raw, glistening eyes fluttering closed. Little by little, warmth crept back into her bones.
Logan hesitated, but inevitably trailed behind her, terrified to face her but unable to turn away. She didn't have to turn around to know that he was there, just heaved a small affronted sigh and set the bottle between them when he straddled the seat next to her. It creaked beneath his weight. He reached out and took a hefty swig, jaw tensing. They sat silently for a long time.
"Are you hurt?" He finally asked voice all gravel from anger, water and whiskey.
Her mouth twisted ruefully.
"That adamantium cuts pretty deep."
His eyes darted to the slice running along the creamy expanse of her thigh and grimaced, trying to keep himself from chucking the bottle at his reflection, scowling back at him, behind the fancy liquor shelf.
"I'm guessin' healin you won't work…" he took another swig, to ashamed to meet her eyes.
The alcohol and lack of oxygen had loosened her inhibitions a bit as she swiveled to face him in all of her half naked glory. She found herself studying his devilishly handsome profile, rugged and somber, an air of isolation about his tall figure as he scrutinized the label. She could feel the power radiating off of him in waves even as he was still.
"I'm willin' to give it a shot if you are." She grinned, possibly a little crazy, just to see his reaction.
Logan swung his head around, her half serious invitation a passionate provocation. Hard to resist…
His luminous eyes riveted on her face, then roved lazily over her body, slow and seductive, the shapely beauty of her taunting him. He could no longer deny that she wasn't the breathless girl of seventeen he'd picked up hitch hikin' the back roads of the Canadian wilderness so long ago.
Marie tried to assess his unreadable features. Despite his closed expression, she sensed his vulnerability. He took a pull and held it as silence hung between them, and damn him, made a really fucking bad decision. But if he was being honest with himself, he'd never really had one to begin with.
He curled one beautiful finger in her direction, motioning her to him, face impassive. The amusement died from her eyes as she regarded him with searching gravity. Her whole being seemed to be filled with waiting, the only sound her wildly beating heart.
She stepped down and sauntered towards him, feeling impaled by his steady gaze, the smoldering flame she saw there startling her. It was too easy to get lost in the way he looked at her… She was so close she could feel the heat emanating from his rock hard body, allowing him time to stop her, before sliding one long sleek leg over his steely thigh, and then the other, tucking her curves neatly into his own contours.
Logan slid his eyes from where the light rippled over her ivory cleavage, barely covering her with the nude lace, and drug in a deep breath through his nose as she threaded her fingers through his dark unruly mane, a wry but indulgent glint shadowing his eyes. She leaned forward, their breath mingling as she paused, still unsure. He growled and she felt it reverberate through her, giving her chills making warmth pool between her parted thighs and pulled her down to him in a raw act of possession.
His lips melted as they parted under hers and she dipped her tongue in, swirling it around his, teasing, exploring and playfully ran it along the ridge on the roof of his mouth. A shiver rolled down his spine and he crushed her flush against him, his Chief belt buckle digging into her flat, taut belly. At least, that's what she thought it was…
He cradled her neck and tilted her head back as she swallowed. Burning, warm and liquid, the high and the heat making both their blood run hot nothing to do with the bourbon. The Wolverine's eyes glowed with emotion as he slowly slid her bra strap off her snowy shoulder, testing her flesh with his teeth and lavishing a kiss there, and let it fall down her arms. He raked the hollows of her back softly. Digging his fingers into her waspy waistline, he ground her against him and she inhaled sharply when she realized that that was definitely NOT his belt buckle stabbing her in the belly button. His greedy hands continued trailing down over the curve of her hips, hooking his thumbs in the side of her panties and nuzzled her throat.
Her body felt as if it were half ice half flame. Instinctively, she arched into him, bracing herself on his broad golden shoulders, panting, nails gouging, eyelids slipping. He let out a tormented groan and his claws sang free. He pulled back, embarrassed, and turned his head away, staring between his knuckles, brows drawn.
Rogue was entranced by the silent sadness written on his face. She reached out and touched his claws in a wistful gesture.
"You do have healin' hands, Logan." Her whisper was barely above a breeze.
"These are killin' hands, Marie." His rich timber thick and repentant.
She saw where he'd smeared the blood on the sullied denim. A raw and primitive grief overwhelming her, she stained the patch as her tears fell and interlocked their fingers.
"No more than mine are, darlin'. The ugly truth of it is, for people like us, sometimes we have to do bad things for the greater good. It's who we are. It's why we're born this way. There are so many things in this life worth fightin' for, Logan. Protecting people doesn't make you a monster… And if we don't fight… who will? Besides, some people just need a good ass kickin'."
When Logan lifted his ocher eyes, pain still lingered there. He shook his head regretfully and covered her full soft mouth with a savage intensity. Hungry and urgent, the kiss was like the soldering heat that joined metals, forcing her lips apart with his thrusting tongue and a demanding mastery. Soul searching, pure and frenzied. Rogue moaned into his open mouth and he pulled away, gasping. He laid his head on her bare chest, her heartbeat throbbing against his ear. It was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He was surrounded by her scent, dizzy and damn near star struck. So fucking grateful that she was alive. And his. Finally… his. Rogue's breasts tingled under the roughness of his sideburns and stubble. He retracted his claws and lightly grazed her rosy pink nipple with his forefinger, his ardor surprising, touchingly restrained. She sighed and rested her head on top of his.
"The only time it hurts is when I can't touch you." Logan muttered in a low pitched rumble.
For a moment she was too emotion filled to speak. The feeling completely, so far, surpassing just carnal desire. She stroked his hair, smoothing it to no avail.
"Then please, don't ever stop…"
"I think it's too late. I don't think that I can…"
And it was. The moment their eyes had met in that bar in Laughlin City he'd known, his fate had been sealed for him. He dropped a kiss to her other nipple and pulled it between his teeth, sucking and twirling his tongue around it until it was diamond hard. She hissed and held on to him, throwing her head back and undulating in his lap.
"Rogue…" he growled, breath hot against her wet skin.
"Mmm." She whimpered, lost.
"You owe me a detention…"
Author's Note: Drumroll for the good stuff, please! Review & I'll post faster. Honest! Really... What? I will... lol Scout's Honor. :) Ya'll are the best!