"Logan..." She almost crumpled into his arms. Well, that can't be a bad sign. Then again, she was upset. Don't take advantage of your friend when she's upset. There must be a 'social interaction' rule that said something like that.
"Baby, what is it?" he asked, guiding her out of the dining room towards an alcove in the hall.
He shook his head as he pushed her towards a bench. He really needed to be careful with those terms of endearment. He didn't want to alienate her.
It was almost time to go. He could feel it. There was only so much more of this torture that he could endure before he lost all control. The fact that she had walked in when he was in the middle of uncharacteristically pouring his heart out to Ororo only made it worse. She looked... God, she looked like heaven. He bet she tasted like sin. Logan closed his eyes, pushing those thoughts away. Cold shower, then hit the road.
Maybe two cold showers, he admitted as he opened his eyes. She was sitting on the bench in front of him, crying, and all he could think of was kissing their salty sweetness away. Christ, he was evil. It was Marie, for fuck's sake. Little girl. Hello?
This logic made no difference, as she was very obviously a woman in Logan's eyes. All the more reason to get the hell out. But for now, he had to make her stop crying.
"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice coming out throaty and low despite his best intentions. Damn; he had called her baby again. He took a deep breath and sat next to her, taking one of her gloved hands into his. "What's wrong, Marie?"
Her eyes fluttered, wet with teardrops, like little drops of dew on the grass. "I'm sorry, sugar," she managed, running the back of her free hand across her eyes to dry them. "I'm just not used to being touched. That was the first time outside of the lab, and I forgot, and, well..."
She drifted off, burying her head against Logan's chest. He made what he imagined to be calming noises, rubbing the back of her head against her hair.
Abruptly, he broke away. "Touched?" he asked, seeking confirmation in her deep, brown eyes.
He saw his own gaze reflected within her still-glassy eyes, and marked the small, slow nod of her head. He closed his eyes again, breath shaking, pulling her towards him, hands cautiously moving towards the open area on her back. "Can I...?" he asked huskily, unable to help himself.
Again, the head nod. He could feel it against his chest. His hands slid onto the soft skin on her back, and forced himself to breathe. He had to maintain control. She was vulnerable right now, and he couldn't...
Thoughts were broken by a low, whispered moan. "Please, Logan," she gasped, her head lifting from his chest as she leaned closer.
She smelled like Marie. Vanilla, lilac, innocence. She smelled aroused as well. Probably just from all of the excitement. Being touched. Control. Control. Hockey is good. Scott's new bike was, too.
"I'm sorry, sugar, but I have to," she whispered, moving her mouth towards his. Her lips raked across his and he could feel the control slipping. Hockey. Marie's mouth now covered his, moist and inviting. Bike. Her tongue flickered across his lips, and his mouth slipped open, letting her in. Hock... Hockey be damned. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, crushing her to him, losing himself in her mouth.
He broke away, breathing raggedly, voice breaking. "Marie..."
"Baby, what is it?" he asked, guiding her out of the dining room towards an alcove in the hall.
He shook his head as he pushed her towards a bench. He really needed to be careful with those terms of endearment. He didn't want to alienate her.
It was almost time to go. He could feel it. There was only so much more of this torture that he could endure before he lost all control. The fact that she had walked in when he was in the middle of uncharacteristically pouring his heart out to Ororo only made it worse. She looked... God, she looked like heaven. He bet she tasted like sin. Logan closed his eyes, pushing those thoughts away. Cold shower, then hit the road.
Maybe two cold showers, he admitted as he opened his eyes. She was sitting on the bench in front of him, crying, and all he could think of was kissing their salty sweetness away. Christ, he was evil. It was Marie, for fuck's sake. Little girl. Hello?
This logic made no difference, as she was very obviously a woman in Logan's eyes. All the more reason to get the hell out. But for now, he had to make her stop crying.
"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice coming out throaty and low despite his best intentions. Damn; he had called her baby again. He took a deep breath and sat next to her, taking one of her gloved hands into his. "What's wrong, Marie?"
Her eyes fluttered, wet with teardrops, like little drops of dew on the grass. "I'm sorry, sugar," she managed, running the back of her free hand across her eyes to dry them. "I'm just not used to being touched. That was the first time outside of the lab, and I forgot, and, well..."
She drifted off, burying her head against Logan's chest. He made what he imagined to be calming noises, rubbing the back of her head against her hair.
Abruptly, he broke away. "Touched?" he asked, seeking confirmation in her deep, brown eyes.
He saw his own gaze reflected within her still-glassy eyes, and marked the small, slow nod of her head. He closed his eyes again, breath shaking, pulling her towards him, hands cautiously moving towards the open area on her back. "Can I...?" he asked huskily, unable to help himself.
Again, the head nod. He could feel it against his chest. His hands slid onto the soft skin on her back, and forced himself to breathe. He had to maintain control. She was vulnerable right now, and he couldn't...
Thoughts were broken by a low, whispered moan. "Please, Logan," she gasped, her head lifting from his chest as she leaned closer.
She smelled like Marie. Vanilla, lilac, innocence. She smelled aroused as well. Probably just from all of the excitement. Being touched. Control. Control. Hockey is good. Scott's new bike was, too.
"I'm sorry, sugar, but I have to," she whispered, moving her mouth towards his. Her lips raked across his and he could feel the control slipping. Hockey. Marie's mouth now covered his, moist and inviting. Bike. Her tongue flickered across his lips, and his mouth slipped open, letting her in. Hock... Hockey be damned. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, crushing her to him, losing himself in her mouth.
He broke away, breathing raggedly, voice breaking. "Marie..."