Reaching for the Moon by ThePekingNoodle

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Chapter Forty Three: I've Got the Fever

In which our hero finds out that something strange is afoot…

The car drew to a halt and within moments the chauffeur had the door open for them. Logan climbed out and then reached in to help Max out. When their hands touched he noticed that hers seemed to be a bit warm, but he put it off to the close quarters in the car.

Once she was out of the car, Max quickly pulled her hand from his under the pretext of smoothing her hair out of her face. Logan looked down at her, but then shrugged and headed up the steps in front of them.

When they reached the top of the steps, the door was opened by a uniformed butler who held it for them as they entered the large entrance hallway.

"Thank you Charles." Logan smiled at the butler. "This is my wife, Max."

"Pleased to meet you, Madame." Charles responded.

Max smiled at him. "Thank you Charles. But please call me Max. Madame sounds like my great aunt."

"Thank you, Max." Charles smiled back at her, immediately captivated by her.

"I assume we're in my normal suite?" Logan was already heading for the sweeping stairway that descended on both sides of the hallway.

"No sir. Senator and Mrs. Biddle-Banks arrived at the last moment. Your aunt had to use the suite for them since all of the others were taken. You've been given the Yellow Room."

Logan shrugged, "Not a problem." Inwardly he groaned. He had counted on the luxury of the separate bedrooms in the suite to enable him to enact the role he planned on with Max. The Yellow Room was large and luxurious with its own bath but it was still a single room with only a king sized bed.  He'd just have to make sure that he remembered his goal. He could do it he was sure. He didn't look down at Max or he would have seen the look of panic cross her face when Charles said they weren't going to have a suite.  She quickly covered it up but she was thinking frantically as she followed Logan up the curving staircase.

Max knew that her sense of rationality as far as Logan went was not going to last very long. She could already feel the heat sweeping through her body, trying to take it over. She was extremely conscious of the blood rushing through her veins. Her sense of smell was heightened, and her skin was starting to feel as if the slightest touch would set it on fire.  Soon her body would be pushing and demanding for the only thing that would be able to relieve it. She knew she could fight it for a while but eventually even her strength of will would be overtaken by the overwhelming hormones her feline DNA was producing. She figured she might have about three hours of potential sanity left but then she was in trouble.

Once the heat hit full force she was going to have to get through forty eight hours of hell before it ebbed. Home at Logan's apartment she figured she could have avoided him somehow. At least there were two separate bedrooms. But here, confined together in one room at night… Max must have let out a groan because Logan turned to give her a curious look.

"Max? Are you alright?" His blue eyes regarded her with concern.

"I'm fine." She ducked away as he started to reach for her, obviously meaning to feel her forehead for signs of a fever. She knew if he touched her he'd be feeling a fever all right, but it would be in the form of Max throwing herself into his arms.

"Are you sure?" he asked dropping his hand. "You look kind of flushed."

"Logan, I'm fine. It was hot in the car. I just feel kind of sticky is all." They had reached a doorway and Logan opened it for her to enter. Max preceded him into the room and the first thing that she saw was a huge bed in front of her.  She heard the click of the door closing behind her and her enhanced sense of smell caught the scent of Logan as he stood there next to her.

"Sorry it's not a suite, Max. But I couldn't make a fuss about it without blowing our cover. The bed should be plenty big enough though. You don't have to worry," Logan was explaining. Unfortunately all Max could focus on was the movement of his lips and the thought of feeling them on hers, of feeling that slight stubble that had filled in since his morning shave scraping across her skin and  feeling his spiky looking but soft hair in her fingers…

Logan started to move past her, but as he did he brushed up against her. Before either of them knew what was happening, Max was kissing him frantically. At first he responded automatically, pulling her close. Her mouth was open and his tongue eagerly began to explore the sweet depths. His hands slid down her back to trace those sweet curves outlined by her tiny skirt. Max moaned and pushed up against him even as she began to frantically pull at his shirt, yanking it out of his pants. Then her hands were running up his back, tracing heated trails over his bare skin. Logan felt himself slammed back against the door. Max was pressing up against him and frantically grinding her hips against his. His head began to spin as her hands worked at the buttons of his shirt and her tongue continued to duel with his. She felt warm in his arms, almost as if she was running a fever. He could almost have sworn there was a purring sound coming from deep in her throat.

Suddenly there was a knocking on the door. "Your luggage is here, sir."

Logan grasped onto his remaining sanity and gently pushed Max away from him. He gathered his scattered senses and quickly pushed his shirt back into his pants, buttoning the buttons that Max had managed to undo.

"Just a moment." He managed to get out. "Max? What…" he began to ask her, confused by her actions.

"I need to take a shower." Before he could finish his sentence, Max had left his side and the door to the bath was slamming behind her. He heard the click of the lock. Still bemused he turned to open the door for the servants waiting outside. Something strange was going on but it was clear that now wasn't the time to try to figure it out.

End of Chapter Forty-Three…TBC…