There was a pounding at Logan's door. It was barely light outside. Not even dawn yet.

"Somebody better be dyin'."

His sharp hearing caught the tail end of Marie's soft laughter.

"C'mon in, kid."

She came in and kicked the door shut, settling a tray of coffees on his makeshift nightstand and hopping onto the low sleeping pallet. Logan groaned and hid his face under the pillow. He'd only been asleep an hour or two. His erotic interlude with Marie on the deck had stoked the fire in him pretty high. It had taken a long time for it to burn low enough for him to finally sleep. Damned healing factor. Sometimes that thing was a real bitch.

"Wakey, wakey, sunshine…."

She ripped the pillow away, her eyes widening as Logan pushed himself upright and the crisp white sheet slid down low around his lean hips. Aside from his magnificent chest, she could also see a naked hairy leg, half of one very bitable buttock and a very interesting spear of dark hair that led down from his belly to disappear under the sheet. He didn't make any effort to hide a single thing from her curious perusal. The sheet slipped lower. He wasn't shy. Her cheeks heated and her gaze flicked up to his face. His hair was wilder than usual, sticking up at odd angles as he sat back against the rumpled pillows.

"Do you even have a refractory period?" She moved to sit cross legged on the bed and looked at him expectantly.

His eyes widened slightly. "That's a helluva opener, darlin'."

"It sure is, sugar." She was having a hard time keeping her eyes off him. His chest was impressive with its dark furring of hair that kept drawing her eye down. He still hadn't covered himself with the sheet. It wasn't quite the full monty, but it was damned close.

"I thought you didn't know what that was."

"I Googled it this morning while I was waiting in line at the donut place." She dropped a bag between them. "Glazed, cream-filled donut holes for me." He made a face. Too sweet. "And kolaches for you. The sausage and bacon ones."

"Hmm. Might letcha live after all."

"Oh, and coffee. Yours — black and strong enough for a spoon to stand up in it." She wrinkled up her nose at his preference as she handed it over. "And a yummy delicious mocha with extra whip for me."

"Candy coffee," he grunted. He didn't even consider it coffee. "That ain't coffee. It's dessert masqueradin' as coffee."

"Avoiding the question is not answering the question, you know." She took a drink, savoring the rich sweet flavor. "So, refractory period?"

"No."

"'No' you're not going to answer or 'no' you don't have one?"

"Don't have one," he said around a mouthful of kolache. "These are damn good. Thanks."

"Welcome." Marie thought about that a minute. "That's unusual, isn't it?"

"You don't have one either." He just thought he'd point that out.

"I knew there was a reason I liked being a woman."

Logan chuckled.

"But yeah, it's unusual. Connected to the healin' most likely."

"That means we could go again and again, right?" She had the most adorable blush. Something had changed between them last night. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew he felt it too.

A year ago, he'd have choked on his kolache. Now he just smiled and took another sip of coffee. "Yep."

He watched her turn that one over in her head. She licked the sugary glaze from her naked fingertips and caught his eyes. "How many times last night after I left?"

Well, now. That was interesting.

"Seven." There was just a touch of arrogance in that one word. She could hear pride too and maybe the slightest hint of embarrassment. She felt a touch of it too as she realized the panties she'd given him last night were probably still somewhere in the sheets. Had he smelled them? Tasted them? Rubbed their lingering dampness where his body wept too? Caught them in his fist and stroked himself with them? Come on them? She'd wanted him to do all those things.

"Hmm…" She popped another donut hole in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "My record's twenty."

Logan choked on his coffee. "Jesus!" He'd not been expecting her to say that. It was the intimate nature of her confession not the number that had shocked him.

"Well, there were two or three more little ones after that, actually. I stopped counting officially at twenty."

"Twenty?" his eyebrow rose. "All in the same night?"

"Yeah. But not like all in a row. It took several hours. It was just like seven or eight after the first go round and then I thought, well damn, that's almost ten and once I got to ten, I thought twenty seemed impossible… but also like a good, round – fun – number to shoot for. There was a lull in the upper teens when I got tired but then it picked back up again. I was pretty worn out by twenty."

"I'll bet." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "When was this?"

"Last summer."

"Hmm… and you told me you had no good sexy stories to share that night on my deck. Remember?"

"Um…" she was flushing for an entirely different reason now.

"Hey, I'm just sayin' that woulda been a damn fine one."

"I'll remember that for next time." She took another sip of her drink. "You know it's not like twenty all the time, or anything, right? It was just that once. It's usually more like three or four."

He loved how she said that like it was no big deal. She obviously had a high sex drive. Perhaps they were more equally matched there than he'd previously realized. It also made him a little pissed at the universe for giving someone that kind of capacity for pleasure and then wrapping it in untouchable skin. That really sucked for her. No wonder she wrote erotica. She'd need an outlet.

"Shows you're a sensual person. I like that. I like it a lot, baby." Parts of him were definitely liking it a whole lot. "I've gotta high sex drive too. Not twenty times high, but I'll try to keep up." He laughed when she hid her face in her hands, but the intimacy felt good. Right. "The twenty… was that with some kinda toy?" Now he was really curious.

Her blush got darker but she still answered him.

"Nope. Just me and my imagination, sugar. I told you, nothing hotter than what I've got up here." She tapped her temple. "Well, that and the image of you in jeans and boots ripping down the lathing with a crowbar. That did it for me."

"Really?" Now that he hadn't expected.

"Oh yeah. Bigtime."

That made him smile. "Naughty girl." He wondered if she'd been on her stomach with her hand under her or on her back with her legs spread wide. The panties she'd tucked in his hand last night suggested the answers to his intimate questions might not be as far away as he once imagined. "Stomach or back?" The words were out before he could stop them.

"Stomach," she whispered.

"Christ," he growled. That was the Wolverine, awake. "Pillow under ya?"

She nodded. "Is that weird?"

Logan shook his head, allowing himself the pleasure of imagining the way her body might move riding a pillow and how that might translate to riding a man. "Nah. S'sensual. I like thinkin' of you that way."

"What way?"

"Needin' it like that. Wantin' more than just gettin' off," he replied, hoping it wasn't too salty of an answer.

"You do?"

"Yeah."

She took her time thinking that over. "Good." Logan could see a bit of the Rogue sparkling in her eyes. "As for toys, they're okay, but I'm not a big fan of vibrators in general."

He digested that, finishing off his coffee. "Sound put ya off?"

"No. They make me come too fast and then I'm too numb to go again, even when I really want to. Where's the fun in that?"

"Damn straight. That's my girl."

His girl. They both liked the way that sounded.

Marie stuffed his empty bag inside hers and tucked the two empty coffee cups inside as well before dropping the bag to the floor and flopping down next to him. She felt happy. Giddy. Full of light and life and hope.

She closed her eyes and snuggled down into the bed, rubbing her face against his pillow. She'd had quite a few naps in this bed over the last year, but this was the first time he'd been in the bed with her.

"Your bed smells different." Her words were low and soft.

"Good different or bad different?"

"Good. Definitely."

"It's me. It's my scent." His most intimate scent. He'd spilled himself in the sheets the first few times, not wanting to dilute the scent of her on the scrap of lace she'd tucked into his fingers as he held it to his face. When he'd finally relented, their combined scents — his over hers — had sent a fresh wave of intense arousal coursing through his blood. God… the scent of them together was atomic. His body had responded and he'd reached for himself again. And then again. Thick pearly streams of come over her little green panties. Christ. Logan shook away that memory and ran his hand from her shoulder to her hip, squeezing gently. That low sexy growl was back, rumbling deep in his chest. He guided her hand under the covers. The sheet was still slightly damp between them. "Seven times," his words were husky and warm.

"I like it." He was surprised when she met his eyes instead of blushing. "I really, really like it." Her first inclination had been to strip and climb in the bed so that scent would be all over her skin.

Her answer shouldn't have surprised him. She was a sensual creature. He moved closer but didn't make a move to touch her. It had to be her. Finally, finally she leaned in, bringing those big eyes and full trembling lips closer.

Still, he waited.

Her mouth hovered over his, so close they were sharing the same breath.

"Go on."

He could hear her heartbeat pounding against his ears. It matched the throbbing between his legs. Closer. Closer. Closer. More. More. More.

He felt the whisper of her lips on his and then she pulled back, blushing.

"Again."

Her kiss was less tentative this time, her lips warm and soft against his. They left a lingering warmth this time when she drew away. It still wasn't a full surrender, but it was enough. For now.

"C'mere, darlin'."

"My skin…." He was naked with just a sheet protecting him. She had on long sleeves, pants and socks, but all that exposed skin still made her nervous. She still couldn't believe she'd kissed him.

"I ain't worried about it. S'fine."

His fingers slipped through her hair to cradle the back of her head and this time he touched his mouth to hers, a firm gentle pressure that made the world spin. He lifted his head before her skin could register the touch, pleased, and then did it again. This time flicking his tongue against her lips before pulling back. The next time the kiss was deeper, wet and slow. He was cocky and unhurried, as if death wasn't waiting for him if he held on too long. He felt the connection open and the first prickle of fire along his nerves and lifted his head just enough to whisper against her lips, "Mornin', darlin'. I sure do like startin' the day with you in my bed."

"Me — me too." She was still reeling from his kiss.

"Damn fine way to christen this bed as well."

That made her feel all warm and melty inside. "Hmm... I thought that happened last night."

He chuffed in amusement. "It don't count if you're by yourself."

"It should if it's seven times with no refractory period."

He swatted her backside with his big hand, smiling when she yelped and sat up.

"Well, wouldya look at that? First kiss and first spankin' in this bed and the day's barely started. Looks to be a mighty good one."

"Mmmm…." She'd liked the kiss too much. It felt wild. She felt wild. Out of control. It was overwhelming, like at the club when she'd hung on too long because she just couldn't stop herself. There was no way she'd hurt him like that again and kissing on him while he was naked in a bed that smelled of his pleasure was too big a temptation. She was playing with fire in a dry, grassy field on a windy day. It wouldn't take much for it to get away from her and burn them both to ash.

She settled back down next to him instead, staring at the cedar planks on the ceiling with his hand on her belly. He'd done a good job with that. It looked really nice. She forced herself to think about that and not about rolling back over and kissing him again. And again and again and again. That he didn't immediately come after her and do just that himself told her he probably had some idea of what she was wrestling with. Instead, his hand rubbed in slow, soothing circles over her belly. It was intimate without being openly sexual.

"Darlin'?"

"Sorry. It's just a lot."

"Hell, kid. Never be sorry for feelin' somethin' so big and so much you need a little time to get used to it. There's not a damn thing wrong with that."

"Thanks. It's just…"

"What?"

"Well, you're probably not used to…" her voice trailed off and her cheeks grew pink.

"You know what? I'm not. I'm not usedta that. What I'm usedta isn't half as nice. I'm usedta just takin' what I want without really givin' a shit 'bout anyone else. Usedta people just gettin' what they want outta me, usin' me for a good, hard ride and—"

"But—"

"There ain't a 'but' in there. You got somethin' in you for me that's big and wild and beautiful. I'd fight like hell to protect it, and if waitin's what it takes, whatcha need now, then that's what I wanna give ya."

"Why?" She sounded truly baffled.

"Because we both know what's comin' and I wantcha to be ready for it when it does because I won't hold anythin' back."

His words shook her deeply. "I know," she said softly. She'd always known it would be like that between them if they ever gave into it. She was young but not stupid. Nobody knew the Wolverine like she did. Marie knew better than anyone what loving him and being loved by him would mean over the long haul.

"I wantcha to take whatcha need outta me now, baby. Whatever you need, as much as you need." His eyes flashed gold at her. "Because I'm sure as hell gonna take what I need outta you when you're ready. So be sure. Once that switch is flipped, there's no goin' back."

A wave of heat suffused her body. He felt her shudder under his palm. "Are you trying to scare me?" Her scent was leaning more towards arousal than fear or he'd have backed off a while ago instead of speaking the unvarnished truth.

"No. I'm tellin' you how it is. Once he's had a taste of you, I'll never get him back in the cage. I can barely keep him in now."

She touched the points in his wild hair and the points on his teeth and let her hand come to rest just over his heart, where it was protected by the sheet. He understood what she couldn't yet say aloud. The Wolverine was hers too.

Marie dropped her head to his chest and whispered against his heart. Words so quiet he couldn't quite make them out. She pressed a kiss there when she was finished and he had the sense she was making a deal with the Wolverine. Binding them all with touch and breath and soft whispers with promises of what would come in time.

They lay close after, hand in hand, just enjoying the change between them as the sky began to grow lighter.

It was Marie who broke the silence, as usual. She seemed to have more words in her overall. More often, Logan was simply content to be in her presence in silence.

"What do you have planned for today, sugar?"

"Got some more kissin' planned. Then I needta pick a floor for the loft. Carpet or hardwood?"

She knew he was just teasing. About the kissing and the carpet. He hated carpet and had told her in no uncertain terms that everyone else would hate it too if they could smell all the nasty things that had been spilled on it or soaked into the pad under it the way he could.

"I vote cork."

"Cork?"

"It's a personal weakness of mine. I've always wanted a cork floor. Someday I'll have one. Until then, maybe I can live vicariously through you."

"Why cork?"

"It's softer than wood under foot. Warmer in the winter. Cooler in the summer. It's sustainably harvested and easy to clean. It's a good sound barrier. Plus it's just pretty. What's not to like?"

"Hmm. Doesn't sound half bad but I was thinkin' hardwood. Maybe hickory or teak."

Marie snickered.

"What?"

"I don't think this place needs any more hardwood, today. There's plenty down here already…"

Up next: Sweet Child of Mine. From Johnny Cash to ZZ Top… the classics provide a backdrop for Logan and Marie's growing intimacy. Tailgates. Kitchens. Dirty lyrics and dirtier talk… It's all fair game now.