Author's note: Sorry, y'all. I have been epically, miserably sick. Boo. Apparently hot toddies aren't my WolverineMuse's drug of choice. Heh. (Pro tip: maple infused bourbon is the way to go there.) Also, I'm fairly certain it's against the laws of the universe to attempt to write smut when the world is one big Nyquil flavored blur… I actually slept instead of burning the midnight oil and I might have also binge-watched the entire last season of the Walking Dead. (OMG, talk about lighting a fire under the Holding Ground II bunnies.) Is it just me, or does Daryl/Beth have some crazy Wolverine/Rogue overtones, or what? For serious, what the hell is it with my muses and the older guy/younger girl vibe? In any event, I am back among the living. (Yay!) and I have a few days off coming up, so who knows. I might actually finish this story one of these days! Onward!
"Hey."
Logan stopped Marie with a soft word in the alley outside the nondescript rusty gray door that led to the club's sleek, monochromatic lobby.
"Sugar? Second thoughts?"
Fuck, no. He had the opposite problem and smelling the slip and slick of her where she'd rubbed up against his pants on the ride over only made it worse.
"Ain't that." He could use a drink. Preferably something with a little more bite to it than a cold beer. "Just be sure, huh?" He leaned against the wall, aware she could probably see the flash of gold in his eyes, despite the poor light in the alley. "Once he's had a taste of you, we're all along for the ride until he's good n'done."
"Mmm…"
"Be serious," he growled. That she wanted that, welcomed it even, still had the power to rock him back.
She bit her lip, posing a little against the wall in a way that made her seem impossibly young, but wise intelligent eyes stared back at him sure and clear. Suddenly she shifted, hand on her hip, confident and fiery and tapping that little foot at him in a way that turned him on as much as it pissed him off. How the fuck did she do that? He'd wanted to give her an out though, just in case, even though he desperately hoped she wouldn't take it.
"Do I look like a woman who doesn't know what she wants?"
It was the touch of amused feminine exasperation in her voice coupled with the tapping of her toe that made him chuckle.
"No, ma'am." He stepped closer and the teasing look on his face bled into something else entirely; something that clearly made her very aware how big and imposing his energy could be in the right mood. Even in those fuck-me boots, he had a good foot on her and a solid two-hundred pounds of barely leashed Wolverine. "You look like a dirty little girl lookin' for someone to teach her a lesson."
"Ya know, cowboy, you seem to know a lot about little girls."
"Dirty girls," he corrected with a feral flash of his teeth. Sweet Jesus, he didn't think she'd try to take him down the rabbit hole so quickly. They weren't even in the fucking club yet.
"I dunno. You up for the job, old man?"
Instead of provoking him, that just made him chuff with amusement. "Baby, you'd chew up and spit out anyone else who even tried." He was not pandering. It was the truth and it pleased her.
She was the Rogue now in fact as well as name, wild and vital; reckless with the impetuousness of youth and feeling her power tonight as a mutant and a woman and as the fierce creature who'd caught and held the interest — and the heart — of the Wolverine.
"Before or after you gutted them?"
He just shrugged. He made no excuses for what he was or how he felt.
Two men, clearly a couple, came strolling down the alley before she could answer back. The night wind brought the sound of heavy boots and the soft expectant patter of dirty words mixed with the scents of leather and cannabis and menthol.
Instead of backing away as any sane man would do given Marie's appearance tonight, the Wolverine rested a menacing hand on the wall above his woman's head and put his broad back to the interlopers with a dismissive sniff. He knew exactly what it looked like, little bit of underripe cherry pie caught up by some roughneck asshole, but something told him Marie hadn't chosen her look tonight by accident and he didn't want to disappoint.
"Hey, lovetta? You need some help?" The prettier of the two men called out to her. His lipgloss shined wetly in the darkness, though the oiled hairless physique he had on display said he clearly spent a lot of time pumping iron. Still, even Greek gods could be sliced into little bitty chunks.
"Fuck off." The Wolverine never did anything by half measures.
"I'm fine," Marie called and he smiled at the note of anxiety in her voice. Maybe not quite as confident about her ability to rein him in as she initially thought. Heh.
"You don't look fine, honey."
"She looks like fucking jailbait," the other spat roughly, throwing his cigarette to the pavement. That one had mutant pride prison ink that said he'd done serious time and a sleeveless biker vest with SGT AT ARMS stitched over the breast pocket. It struck his colors and also announced quite plainly that the man might be alone with his lover now, but his band of unruly brothers was likely somewhere close.
The Wolverine just smiled. He liked a challenge.
"I'm totally legal." Bit of an edge to her now. Interesting.
"Maybe somewhere, sweetie, but probably not in this country." Lipgloss again. Annoying as fuck, but he definitely got a pass. It was interfering assholes just like that one who kept underage runaways safe on the streets. The irony was not lost on him, however irritating he found it right now.
"You deaf, bub? Get lost." See? He could be polite.
Marie peeked out from behind his shoulder.
"Thanks boys, but I got this. It's just a little pre-game warm-up, if you know what I mean? This ain't my first rodeo with the cowboy, here."
"Oh! You go, girl. Love the boots, too." Marie blew lipgloss a kiss. The Sergeant just rolled his eyes and Logan wondered how many times he'd been the muscle behind lipgloss' big mouth. For that, he got a pass, too. Lipgloss turned to his partner, flinging a wrist in their direction as they left. "Why don't we play games like that anymore, huh?"
"Soon, pet." The gray door slammed closed behind them and left Logan in the relative silence of the dark alley with Marie, who was clearly determined not to be silent tonight.
"Ya know, that was kinda sweet right up until that pet comment. Ick!" Logan just shook his head, amused to brush up against one of her hard edges so soon in the evening. "You gotta admit he had killer abs, though—" The growl was out before she'd even finished her inflammatory little comment. Had to have been on purpose, because she was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
"Grrr."
"Oh come on, sugar. You know I like my men with a few more miles and a lot more damn hair." That redeemed her, slightly. And she was obviously determined to amp things up between them without actually causing a fight with anyone, which he also grudgingly appreciated, given his proximity to the edge tonight. She stomped her feet. "Now let's get going, huh? I'm freezing my ass off out here."
"No."
"No?"
"You lookin' to meet back up with the Brokeback boys at the desk for another little pow wow?"
"Wow. A pop culture reference from the twenty-first century? There's hope for you yet."
Logan ignored her goading. "Hell, maybe we can all share a tea party in the elevator on the way up," he grunted, his thoughts on the matter perfectly clear. He was not in the mood for more of that particular game. His eyes traveled down her body and he smirked at what he saw there. Her aviator jacket was open and her blouse and that fucking leopard print bra hid very little. "Heh. Ya look cold, kid."
She made a face at him and then grinned without shame. "That was kinda fun before, huh?" Obviously she was in no mood to be steered off course tonight.
"Pre-game warm-up?" Logan returned evenly, raising a brow at her as she jiggled about in the brisk night air a little longer and then ducked under his arm, heading to the door.
"One of them," she tossed back just as evenly, giggling a little.
"You're not followin' any of the damn rules," he rasped into the night as they approached the door. "That ain't gonna end well. Just sayin'."
Marie shrugged. "You're the one who wanted the bad girl," she grinned as if she'd won, and then her eyes found his, warm and dark and as feral as he'd ever seen them. "I wouldn't be so sure about the rules, though."
"That right?"
"Maybe it's his rules I'm playin' by tonight."
That flash of gold was back in his eyes.
"He don't have no rules." Not like she meant, anyway. Not consciously. The animal's thoughts were a snarled crimson mess of disjointed primal urges and instinctive responses, and where she was involved, there was a strong thread of possessiveness and an equally vital thread of want. Hunger so keen it had long ago surpassed desire for need. He needed her like freedom and air and the hunt.
"What? Sure he does."
"Not like you mean."
"He does," she insisted. "You just don't listen the same way I do."
"Enlighten me."
"Later. Inside. I need central heat and a stiff drink, first."
"Fair enough."
~ooOoo~
Willow, the ethereal woman behind the glossy counter was a vision in blood red silk tonight. The lush color was so vivid it almost glowed against her freakishly fair skin and hair. The rich sanguine silk was a striking contrast to her icy blue eyes, so pale they were almost colorless. As always, her slim silver laptop and sleek little phone sat beside her, the only modern technology visible in the plain concrete room. The LEDs winked, glowing softly against the smooth stone.
"Good evening, Mr. Logan." She nodded to Marie. "Ms. Rogue. It's good to see you again."
That brought Logan's head up sharply. He hadn't introduced Marie last time. Willow was good with details but not clairvoyant. Her familiar greeting was all the warning he got that the evening was about to take a radical departure from what he'd expected.
"Evenin', honey."
"Is the account we have on file for you still current?" The question was not directed at Logan and he had the distinct sense of feminine collusion. Given the two women involved, it was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
The Rogue's eyes flashed mischievously. "It sure is."
The Wolverine's eyes shot to Rogue's, and while he didn't say anything, Willow could see the energy shift between the lovers. A pang of envy stuck her sharply, painfully. Oh, how she wished to be the Rogue tonight. To be let into his private world. To be trusted by a man like him. What a beautiful gift to be allowed to know the Wolverine's secrets. To share his vulnerabilities and reveal her own. She must be quite something, his Rogue.
Willow struggled to keep her face impassive. She has glimpsed only a small sliver of his sexual self. She knew what the Wolverine did upstairs behind those red doors and she'd had a hand in arranging the details for tonight. Rogue's directions were very specific and only made her more curious about the true nature of the Wolverine's desires. He was a puzzle she couldn't work out, and for a woman with a mind for details, it was tantalizingly frustrating.
She was good at her job. Reading people. Anticipating their needs, their desires. Maneuvering them. Manipulating them, however subtly. Knowing their personal kinks was only a small part of that. The Rogue had allowed her a small look into their private world and instead of her usual icy detachment, for once she felt almost giddy at being a part of planning an erotic evening. She imagined Logan wasn't a man easily surprised.
And it was probably as close to she'd ever get to knowing his secrets.
Willow looked at Logan. "Will you be requiring your usual room this evening?"
She'd obviously asked the question for the Rogue's benefit, because that thick Mississippi drawl was answering back before he'd even opened his mouth.
"Not tonight." Her tone implied never again, though she knew better than to issue the order aloud. She obviously intended to be a part of whatever he did here from this point forward and Willow wondered if they'd find a new 'usual' together or discover another kink entirely.
She had clearly blossomed under his tutelage. The timid rabbit had been replaced by a lioness. The idea made her smile inwardly and then frown as her unique mind raced down a different track.
Lions and tigers and bears! Oh, my!
"Very well, Ms. Rogue." Willow put a small envelope on the counter and slid it across. "As you instructed." She almost smiled at the look on Logan's face.
He raised an eyebrow at his woman. "See ya been busy, kid."
"I sure have." The Rogue palmed the little plain envelope and slid it into her coat pocket with a wink and a smile that was full of sin and promise.
In all the years he'd been here, he'd never seen Willow slide over an envelope. He'd seen a number of other items; from the banal to the bizarre— from key cards and car keys to artfully crafted sex aids, illicit substances and even an inhibitor collar once, but never an envelope.
"Whatcha got on deck tonight, honey?" He addressed Willow, because it would have given his woman too much satisfaction to ask the question of her outright. If she wanted to play, they'd play. Who had more patience than a predator?
"A rare treat tonight in the East Chamber. A beautiful series on knotting in three masterful performances, manual and oral followed by penetration." The Wolverine actually shuddered at that and Willow, a being highly sensitive to all energy, could feel the power rolling off him tonight. She'd never seen him so close to the edge, that glitter of gold shining in his eyes. Keeping her voice neutral, she swallowed and noted the slight smirk that told her he'd caught the small waver before she schooled her features back into impassivity. "An equally impressive show in the West Chamber. Living art on the canvas of the human form. Spectacular opening acts for both. A mixed form mating and an Argentine Tango, respectively."
"Mmmm…." The Rogue's vocalization was more of a purr than a hum of approval and Willow was surprised to hear an answering growl from Logan. It was a primal a sound as she'd ever heard; and she'd had the pleasure of seeing him in action a time or two in the public rooms upstairs. He was magnificent. She'd never heard a sound like that though; like it came up from the soles of his feet. It shook her to the marrow of her bones.
"Will there be anything else you require tonight?"
The Rogue shook her head, eyes on her man, already drawn into the possibilities of the night. Now Willow understood why the Rogue hadn't wanted to know what shows the club was offering tonight while she arranged the details of their evening. She wanted to be open to what might come of giving the Wolverine free rein to let their night take shape organically, fueled by the explicit acts unfolding before them and their own reactions to it. It was a surprisingly sophisticated response for one so new to the world of adult pleasure.
She supposed it was one small piece of the puzzle as to why the Wolverine had chosen the Rogue above all others.
"We're good, thanks. Unless you want somethin', sugar?"
"Nothin' you can give me down here, darlin'." His posture was predatory, still, but his smirk was dirty as all hell. Both women shivered at the pure sex in his voice, but Logan only had eyes for the Rogue.
"The passcode tonight is BITE. Enjoy your evening."
"Will do. Thanks." An automatic answer, those Southern manners pushing through even as the couple made their way to the elevator flanked by the two sexually charged sculptures.
They never saw Willow's private smile, or her fingers fly over her phone before she turned to greet the next guest.
Marie punched in the code, watching as the light flipped from red to green and tugging a little nervously at the short hem on her skirt. Logan chuffed softly in her ear, breathing in her scent deeply and feeling the Wolverine strain against the chains that bound him. The close confines of the elevator would be a challenge.
"You ain't gonna ask to stop and look at the art tonight?" His eyes slid down the towering jagged lines of The Spire. It was phallic without being graphic and he couldn't help but remember the last time they'd stood here together at the edge of the cliff.
It felt a little like that tonight, too. A different set of possibilities awaited them somewhere upstairs, but they were still stepping into the unknown.
Up next: No freakin' idea. We'll see…
So, guesses as to where they go and what they do? East Chamber? West Chamber? Somewhere else? (Elevator? Alcove? Red Door?) OMG, my Wolverine is making a serious case for some epic smut… You have been warned!