Author's note: My WolverineMuse is still giving me a run for the money. Bastard! (Is it wrong that I still like him when he's surly and irascible? Maybe especially then? Heh.) My apologies for the delay in posting. My beta went on an impromptu vacay and then I got sucked into some craziness at work. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be finished. Every time I sit down to write the Red Door bits, other (ahem - smutty) bunnies jump in line. I'm sure you're all surprised. lol Still, there are worse things than an overabundance of smut, hey? ;) Hopefully this double length chapter will hold you a while. Onward!
The Rogue made him wait again when they got downstairs. This time Logan was too keyed up to sit in a chair having a beer while she primped. He knew she'd done it on purpose. As if he needed to be wound any tighter?
Hell, she wouldn't even let him change. Apparently whatever plans she had for tonight included his uniform. After seeing the look in her eyes when she'd all but ordered him to keep the tank and the leathers, he didn't even want to change, despite the lingering scent of char and smoke. He paced impatiently in front of the fire, killing off the beer he'd abandoned earlier and opening another.
Just five minutes, she'd said, that fine ass swinging as she disappeared into the bathroom. He'd snorted. She never took just five minutes and frankly, he wasn't in the mood to indulge her right now. At least not with this. Logan had the distinct feeling that the meager amount of patience he had left needed to be held in reserve for later. He wandered back to the mantle, shoving something in his pocket with a grunt as he paced.
The beer probably wasn't helping, but it tasted good. Cold and crisp on his tongue, chasing away the acrid hint of ash in the back of his throat. He checked his watch, glaring at the bathroom door. Four minutes and counting.
She'd had makeup on already, so he could see little point to this beyond seeing how far she could push him before he snapped. Clearly, she wanted a wild night, and while the idea of it appealed to him too, there was a fine line between on the edge and over it.
"Marie," he growled, irritation spiking.
She giggled. Fucking giggled. Heat flared through his blood, forcing him to grind down hard on the urge to cross the room and rip open the door between them.
Marie came swishing out a moment later, posing in the doorway for full effect. Logan froze, jaw working as he swallowed. "Turn around."
She did, spinning slowly for his pleasure, eyes down in deference and then flicking back up to his.
"Fuck." He wasn't even aware he'd spoken aloud until he saw her lips curl up into a smile. She wasn't retouching her make up, but removing it entirely. Fresh face. Pink cheeks. He could even see the youthful smattering of summer freckles over the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks. Played up against the darkened sweep of her lashes and that full mouth, red and wet, she barely looked seventeen, if that. Total jailbait. And that mouth? That face with those clothes? God. He could barely think straight.
"Holy Jesus, Marie. You tryin' to get me arrested?"
That specific look was clearly a deliberate decision on her part. Another layer to their games. She'd obviously been planning this for a while and he wondered what else she had in store for him tonight. The blast of heat was volcanic, burning away the last of his resolve. If she wanted to play, they'd play. Fuck propriety and society and every other rule that shouldn't be broken. They couldn't get to the Red Door fast enough to suit him now.
"See somethin' you like, old man?" she purred, amping it up even more.
"Hell, yes."
The combination of wide-eyed innocent and sexy that leaned heavily towards slutty shouldn't turn him on so damned much, but it did. There was something about her youth and fertility that appealed to his more base animal drives, but the rest hinted that she'd be able to keep up with his more sophisticated carnal appetites, as well.
Holy shit. That Lolita chick had nothing on the Rogue.
How like her to directly confront something everyone else hinted at but was afraid to say. The Rogue was completely fearless, shamelessly giving him both the untried girl who'd climbed into his truck on that snowy road, and the adventurous woman she'd become in the years since.
"You like little girls, mister?"
Ah, fuck. She always had to push. Even now.
"Just one," he returned evenly, "Though she ain't so little any more." He was looking in her eyes now, not at the ample curves on display.
A real smile shined out of her then, something honest and sweet. Something apart from the game they were playing. He saw it and nodded, feeling a different kind of warmth curl through him. True affection and genuine love. It lay at the heart of it all and made the rest of their games possible. It was a touchstone, a moment of equilibrium before they sailed over the edge together.
"What do you want tonight, cowboy?" The temptress was back. Her finger trailed down her neck and teased between her breasts. He wet his lips because, fuck, she smelled so good and he was already thinking about how she'd taste under his mouth. "The good little girl? The shy virgin who needs you to show her what to do?" Her fingers wandered to her nipple, pinching hard enough that her breath caught. "Or the bad girl? The girl who saw you in that cage and wanted to lick the sweat off you. To get down on her knees and show you just how much she liked what she saw."
Her stark honesty shocked him for a moment. She was setting the tone for the night, that much was clear.
"Mmph." He shrugged. It wasn't really a choice at all. "Bad girl," he rasped out, voice low and smoky. His sex voice. The one that made her quiver. "S'her turn. I went with the virgin last time. And for the record, you ain't ever been shy, baby."
That observation pleased her.
"So, the bad girl, huh?"
"Fuckyeah," he breathed, alight with possibility.
"You almost don't even sound guilty for wanting that." Her eyes were dancing as she teased.
"I ain't." Not anymore. "But I got a big appetite tonight." He reached out and tweaked her other nipple. "So try and keep up, huh?"
~~ooOoo~~
A few minutes later they stood in the driveway, breaths making silvery puffs in the crisp night air. Logan hung back, uncharacteristically, waiting for Marie to choose as they stood between the truck and the bike. Her Jeep was still up at the school.
When she turned to look at him for direction, he merely grunted. "S'your show, baby. You invited me." He had no intention of making a damn thing easy for her. He was curious, too, to see what her choice would reveal about her plans for the night. There were pluses and minuses to both rides.
His Mississippi girl shivered as a strong gust of wind creaked through the tall trees. "Brrr!" Her eyes slid from the bike to the truck.
"Heh." The cold never bothered him. He always ran hot.
She caught her bottom lip in her teeth for a moment. "Even if it wasn't damn cold out here, I suppose there's less chance of you getting arrested in the truck." She knew her appearance was pushing the limit tonight.
"True. Better chance of gettin' my dick sucked, too." His voice was even but she could see his teeth flash in the darkness. He did love winding her up.
"Logan!"
"Guess the bad girl's joinin' us later, then?" he said cooly. He knew how to push her buttons and the Rogue rarely disappointed.
Her eyes narrowed. "If you're lucky, sugar." He watched as she came up beside the bike and ran her hands over her hips with a little shimmy. "I don't know about the bike, though."
She smoothed the clingy skirt down, tugging a little at the impossibly short hem. While she was clearly feeling the power she had over him tonight, he could also tell she was a little uncomfortable. Good. It was more fun to debauch the innocent than the jaded. He merely raised a brow.
"This skirt I borrowed from Jubes is seriously like one really deep breath away getting us both arrested, but then again, you do know how much I enjoy a good ride..."
He bit back a grunt of amusement. "I remember." She'd come three times against him on the ride home that night.
Shooting him a dirty look over her shoulder, she swung a leg over the bike, straddling the powerful machine suggestively and put her hands on the handlebars. "So, what do you think, sugar?"
Eyes on her ass, he loomed closer, crowding her as stepped nearer still and put his mouth to her ear. "Baby, you're hot as hell with those sexy legs spread wide and somethin' big 'n hard between 'em…" His hands were firm on her hips, squeezing. "But that's cheatin'."
"Cheating?"
"Yep. I don't want you comin' tonight until I make ya." She shivered against him. "Or until I say you can," he added just to turn the screws. He knew the Rogue chafed under his direction at times, but he also knew she came harder and felt safer when he gave her firm boundaries. She liked the hard edges as much as the room to play.
"Gawd." Her drawl echoed her scent, thick with honey and spice and a sweet langour that tickled along all his senses.
"You ain't followin' the rules too good, either."
"Rules?" she managed to push out, hips swaying and beginning to rock as his hands roamed from her ass to her quivering thighs and back to her heaving belly.
She wanted it. Bad.
"I said no panties." His fingers dipped in and wrapped around the back of her thong, pulling it up tightly. She rose up on her toes and then sank down into the sweet press with a decadent groan. Biting back a growl of approval at his mate's open sensuality, he eased off for a moment and then began a rhythmic pull/release that nestled that strip of silky leopard just where she needed it, the snug friction making her squeeze her eyes shut and her knuckles turn white where she gripped the handlebars.
It wasn't nearly enough though, and he chuckled as she whined and bucked her hips impatiently. "Sugar…"
"More?"
She nodded, lip caught in her teeth.
Too bad for her. Logan pushed himself into the mental headspace needed for playing these kinds of games with her and he bit her sharply, jostling against her.
"No." Hooking a finger under the thin ribbon of leopard at her hip, he pulled it clear of her skirt and with a flick of his wrist, extended one claw and cut it decisively in two. He ignored her startled gasp of protest and fished out the other side, letting his claws gleam in the moonlight before slicing that one, too. Chocolate eyes sliding hungrily down his claws pushed him right to the edge. A flashover. One rough tug was all it took to yank the scrap of lace and satin from her body. A prize, held aloft, swinging slightly between them.
"Unngh…" Her body shuddered.
Just as he'd hoped, it was too much friction that didn't last nearly long enough to do anything but burn and tease.
Logan's thumb found the moist gusset almost without conscious thought and he rubbed it between his fingers with a grunt, jerking slightly as an answering need sang brightly through his blood.
Beside him, Marie shivered as the cool night air teased over hot, wet flesh. The Wolverine grinned, wanting her to be as aware of that ripe slickness as he was. That bit of silky lace may as well have been a red flag before a bull as far as he was concerned.
"Need somethin', baby?" Her eyes narrowed, but the pupils were still blown wide with pleasure as her hips rolled in the air. That brought a hiss to his lips. He could stand to see more of that.
"Yes." Her answer was not hushed and he liked that she voiced her need aloud to the night, uncaring who might hear.
"Say it. Tell me." He considered slapping her ass to drive the point home, but ultimately he didn't because he thought she might enjoy it too much. He wanted that intense need to be an uncomfortable ache for her, too. Christ knew it was for him and they hadn't even left the fucking driveway.
"Empty."
"Huh?" It took her so long to answer that he was momentarily distracted, rubbing the silky fabric in his fingers down her neck and between her breasts, spreading that glorious scent all over her. He wanted to do more than that, but figured if he held that scrap to his face and let the taste of her bloom over his tongue, rich and sweet, that the Wolverine would have her right here, bent over the goddamn bike. And while the thought appealed, so did taking a walk on the wild side with her at the Red Door.
They were both primed for it now.
"Emp-ty, sugar," she drawled, hips still slightly moving to an internal rhythm that he could feel pounding in his own blood too. More. More-more. InInIn. Now. Now-now! "Hungry. Wet. It's all I can think about. I want..."
Between her legs, the leather seat gleamed enticingly in the moonlight, the silver glow highlighting the peaks and valleys created by the decorative stitching. He could see the mischievous intent etched on her face before her knees began to sag. He caught her around the waist. "None of that now, baby."
She hummed in frustration, even though he was aware she knew he'd never let her get away with that. It was far too easy.
"Wouldn't mind watchin' that some other night, though." His voice was thoughtful and more than a little dirty as he shoved her ruined thong in his pocket with a grunt.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck yeah. Drive upstate after the fights one night. Build a bigass fire. Get a few shots in ya, order you to strip and then watch you grind all over this seat until your purrin' puts the fuckin' pipes to shame."
Pressed up against him as she was, he could feel what his words did to her. Her heart sped wildly and though there was a flush of color in her face, her gaze didn't waver.
"Slip and slide, cowboy. And screw your orders," the Rogue spat, just to get a rise out of him. "I'd leave your hat on and my boots— and this bike would smell like me for-fucking-ever. And ever. You'd never mount it again and not think of me shuddering on it while you watched with your dick in your hand."
"Deal." It was more a snarl and less a word.
Logan dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to bind the Wolverine, who'd risen sharply in response to the Rogue's challenge. The closer she got to peaking, the more unpredictable she became and he realized that he'd pushed her a little too far. He wanted her on the edge not over it. Not yet.
He needed to bring her down a little, bank that fire so it was a glow instead of a raging inferno. At least for now. When they got to the Red Door, all bets were off.
Watching her fingers skate over her body gave him an idea how to focus her on what was happening between them tonight without putting that emphasis directly between her legs.
First, a little something to get her attention.
He swung a leg over and got on the bike backwards, facing her, and sat down, forcing her legs to widen to accommodate the sprawl of his heavy thighs.
Laughter bubbled up from her, silvery and warm. "Whatever you're up to, I don't think it works that way..."
"Heh."
"Unless you're thinking of a different sort of ride altogether…?"
All the warning he had was her hand on his shoulder to steady herself and then she was in his lap, hard, thighs spread wide and he could feel the slick glide of her; that wet, naked flesh slipping so easy over the leather encasing his cock. Up and down and that little circle of her hips that fucking sent him.
"Be good." He slid her back, thighs still carrying the weight of her body but with enough room between them that he could at least think now. "There's one more thing we needta do, first."
"Condom?" she purred and he could tell she was half hoping he'd give in and just let her ride him to screaming orgasm right here under stars.
"Heh. You wish. Gimme your wrist, little girl." Hell, she looked the part. May as well play it up for them both.
"What if I don't want to?"
Now she was just teasing. He could tell the difference, but her defiance would not go unanswered.
"Then I'll spread you wide, shove my fingers in ya, hard, right here— and fuck ya with 'em 'till you're pantin' and and squirmin' all over my goddamn lap. Then when you're beggin' for it, I'll pull 'em out, lick 'em clean and smoke a cigar while you freeze your cute, half-naked ass off out here, rippin' your fuckin' hair out and tearin' a strip outta my hide with that sassy tongue of yours for not lettin' you come."
Her eyes were as big as dinner plates. "Oh!"
"Now, gimme. Your. Fuckin'. Wrist."
He could tell she hadn't yet made up her mind. Interesting. Some nights she chose disobedience just to be willful. He hoped tonight wasn't one of those nights. It made him want the Red Door more than ever. But then, maybe that was what she'd been after all along? She was getting too good at these little games.
"This wrist?" She brought her hand up between them and tapped his sensitive nose, squeaking and jerking her hand away as he snapped at her fingers with sharp, white teeth. "Or this one…" They both looked down at the hand she had resting on his thigh. He didn't think she'd do it, but he should have known she wouldn't make a damn thing easy for him, either. That was what made playing with her so damned much fun.
The Rogue didn't even hurry. She slid her hand between her legs, teasing her gloved fingers up her thigh and swiping them through the glossy welcome so slowly that Logan could feel the blood throbbing in his temples by the time she'd finished.
He saw the glitter in her eyes as his nostrils flared, dragging in that sweet musk in dizzying lungfuls.
Eyes blazing, she offered him that wrist silently, fingers glistening darkly in the moonlight. She may as well have roared her dare into the night.
Mutant? Hardly. Fucking valkyrie is what she was.
He knew what she was trying to do and he was not going to break. No fucking chance of that. "Behave," he growled. Sometimes when he said that he actually meant it, and this was one of those times.
"Hey, you wanted the bad girl…"
"I always wanted the girl — period. Good. Bad." His lips twitched. "Crazy as shit." She giggled as he pushed a hand into his pocket. "Whatever. I like 'em all," he muttered, withdrawing a length of black silk cord he'd cut from the hank on the mantle earlier and brushing it slowly down her neck.
That shut her up. Her eyes were very wide now and her hand hovered between them, trembling slightly as she watched him smooth the cord between his strong fingers. He worked slowly, the knots and loops forming easily under his experienced hand. The motion was controlled and unhurried, drawing her into a slower rhythm, but it was not without a certain energy of its own.
Expectation and promise buzzed between them as the knot in his fingers slowly took shape. A head. Wings. A second set of wings. She was smiling by the time the dragonfly was finished. The sleek black silk shone with a soft luster in the moonlight.
This time, Marie offered her wrist without hesitation. Logan nudged the edge of her glove down to nestle the cord against her bare skin. Right there where her pulse was pounding.
He held her eyes while he worked. Three coils in all, laid down side-by-side, wrapping her wrist snugly. It wasn't enough to cut off the blood, just enough to sensitize her skin and make her aware of every little movement. Every time the pretty little dragonfly fluttered in the wind, she'd feel the tug on her wrist and think of him, reminded that she already carried his mark.
"Beautiful," she whispered.
She could have meant the dragonfly itself, or the artistry he so casually displayed, or the care with which he bound her flesh. She could have meant the sentiment or the physical sensation or the unspoken dialogue they'd just shared.
But he knew, as surely as if she'd given him the words.
It oozed from her every pore and he simply nodded as he stood and slowly walked her back off the end of the bike. They remounted together and he kicked the engine to life, spitting gravel under the tires as they shot into the night.
The dragonfly twirled in the wind, a claiming that tonight they'd shout from the rooftops.
Up next: No freakin' idea, other than it's gonna start in the lobby of the Red Door. Who knows where it will go from there? ((grin)) I'm thinking my WolverineMuse and I are gonna need to go a few rounds and work that out. Heh. Soon!