Chapter 5

Pay Attention to the Vegetables

Fired up and brow furrowed, an instinctively ruthless Wolverine evaded a barrage of bullets, driving and spurring his feet through the rigorous, torturous workout. Sweat glistened across his bronzed, powerful body as he panted in unison to the echoes of threatening footsteps closing in on his current position. He stooped behind a rock, tracking the woody scent of a second-to-last victim. A treacherous snarl rumbled from his lips, and the plain cotton wifebeater clung to his muscular frame when his brawny arm wrapped around the throat of another enemy. Muffling the soldier's fraught pleas, he smirked menacingly to himself and unsheathed his claws.

The soldier evaporated in a haze of sketchy pixels, and he mentally clocked another point to the Wolverine. This Danger Room Simulation Hank created bordered on the line of pure slaughter. Logan was the best at what he did, and Stryker's soldiers were ill-equipped to deal with the threat.

He stopped in his tracks, leaning against a shingle wall, and his nostrils flared. There were two scents, all male and edging closer to the trap. With just a few more steps, he could take them out and create a crater-like hole through Stryker's skull. Homing in on the sounds of their footsteps, he steadied his breaths and leapt into the woodland clearing with a guttural roar.

The violent and blood-spattered simulation melted away, and he arched an unimpressed eyebrow with a grumble. "Was that strictly necessary?"

"I would say so, Logan," Storm replied from the control room above, and he rolled his eyes. "And stop making faces," she added hastily, the rustling of paper crackling over the speaker. "I wouldn't need to interrupt you if you stopped avoiding me."

"I wasn't avoiding you," he snorted in defence, folding his arms and gazing up at the glass. "I've been busy."

"Of course, how foolish of me. You were far too busy offering to pimp your body out to a former student."

So, she finally stumbled onto the truth twenty-four hours after he propositioned Marie and offered his unique services, huh? Well, he stood by his actions and needed to return to the unfinished fight as the tension pulsated through his body.

With a sigh, he dished up a response. "She's of age, and anyway, you told me to do something about it."

Now, it was her turn to snort rather uncharacteristically. "I asked you to intervene with words and guidance, not offer to sleep with her!"

"Yeah, well, I do things a little differently," he replied matter-of-factly and hadn't even slept with Marie yet. "You mind switching it back on? I was all in and close to hitting my personal best."

"How is gifting someone with a sex dependency more sexual contact going to improve matters?" she complained over the communication system. "It's a complicated enough situation without you adding your kinkiness."

Logan scowled and pointed toward the distant figure above. "I've told you before, she's wrong about me being kinky, but I'd rather she spends time with me than chase after those assholes. She won't catch anything from my dick, either."

An exasperated Storm sighed in irritation, and he took that as a good sign. "I just don't think you understand what you're getting yourself into, Logan. You're offering a sexual relationship to a vulnerable young woman."

"I know what I'm doing," he countered gruffly because he knew Marie better than the back of his own scrotum.

"I'm telling you the plan won't work because she's taken leave of her senses and refuses to listen to anyone."

"Hey, you're forgetting who you're dealing with," he responded cockily, smirking up at her. "I know what I'm doing, and I know where I'm going."

"Oh, so you're the one taking Rogue out tonight?" Storm sighed in relief. "That's a weight off my mind. I have to admit, when Jubilee shared her concerns about street corners, I worried Rogue was –" She swiftly frowned and watched him glower as he stormed to the exit. "Logan, where are you going?"

As Logan had continually confirmed in a gruff manner, he knew what he was doing and knew where he was going. He grumbled when he reached the door, cracking the crick from his neck. "I'm off to ride a mattress."

A furious Logan refused to knock as he stalked inside Marie's bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him. The pleasantries between them had been severed when she booted his one-time offer in the balls and planned to sell herself on a dimly lit street corner instead. He bent over backwards and saved her life, and this is how she chose to repay him, huh? Selling her goddamn ass to the first grubby asshole who showed an interest. If she weren't careful, her choices would pave the way to a body bag and a one-way trip to the morgue because the streets wouldn't be forgiving to a girl like her.

Marie pottered about in the bathroom. He heard her humming tunelessly to herself, and it was some upbeat, optimistic crap that he hated. Her head poked out from behind the door, and she gazed at him with a toothbrush in her hand.

"Don't tell me your favourite team lost again. They're called teams in hockey, aren't they? And they play with a puck, right? A silly puck and an even sillier stick," she said with a soft giggle, wiped the toothpaste from her lips and believed she played the part of a temptress well. "Can I see your stick?"

His eyes narrowed, and he scowled at her. "What's this I hear about you whoring yourself?"

Marie's buoyant gaze faltered for a split second when her heart caught in her throat. She crushed the fear instantly and adopted an airy confidence on her face that didn't suit her. Returning the toothbrush to the old jam jar beside the sink, she strolled toward him, a pair of simple blue-on-white pyjama bottoms hanging loosely on her hips. She peeled a loose-fitting white t-shirt off, and it landed gracefully at his feet.

Logan's gaze roamed admiringly over her perky, pert and pale breasts. The warmth of his fingers traced in circular motions across a rock-hard nipple while his other hand snaked across her hip and inched the fabric of the pyjama pants lower until they slipped down her milky thighs. Fully exposed in front of him, he cocked his head to the side and smirked. He rumbled in approval as he drank in the sight of her unclothed as she waited for him to issue an order.

"Unbuckle my belt," he instructed gruffly, frowning when she reached for his face instead.

She brushed an index finger across his lips and hushed him, either not understanding the scope of their relationship or pretending not to.

"We can help each other." Her hands dropped to the impressive belt buckle, and she fondled his crotch as she unbuckled the belt and tugged down the zipper. When his hardened member sprung free of the constraints of its denim prison, her eyes widened in astonishment and awe. "It looks sturdy."

Grunting half-heartedly, he figured she meant those words as a compliment. He could feel the Wolverine stirring inside, and his senses sharpened to her yearnings. Their bodies briefly met again when she stroked his cock, pleasuring away the tension. Instead of finishing the job or sucking him off, her mouth busied itself with a pointless task as her teeth tore the edge of a condom packet open.

"You can slip this on now you're hard," she said, stuffing the shimmering metallic packet into his palm. "I haven't got all night, Logan. Do you need a little help?"

Logan was almost a fan of Marie's newfound grit. He studied her teasing face and smirked to himself. That self-confidence would be her downfall because she wouldn't triumph against the Wolverine. Her nakedness only brought him closer to the brink of claiming every inch of her as he watched the indecisive hand hover closer to his aching member.

"You'll lose that cocky attitude once I'm through with you," he warned with a low-slung growl.

"Okay, maybe I'm a little conceited tonight, but the only cock I want to talk about is yours," she teased, believing the upper hand in their relationship belonged to her.

His unimpressed brow furrowed, and he handed back the condom. "You think you call the shots here, huh?" he grunted roughly, his wandering gaze close to burning a hole through her magnificent breasts.

Marie shrugged, kicked off the pyjama pants and toyed with her hair. "I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you're standing like that." She pointed at his erection, smiled and brushed desperate fingers across her own humid sex. "I'm wet, but are you willing? No condom doesn't mean an outright rejection because you're not the first guy to refuse to wear one. This is a free country, after all, but I doubt the Founding Fathers were talking about your cock when they wrote the Constitution."

A rattled Logan scowled bad-temperedly as she giggled at her own jokes. What happened to the safe sex talk Hank handed out with birth control? She really didn't give two shits about anything health-wise, did she? He wondered how they reached this goddamn point as he closed in with a reverberating growl and claimed her with a heated kiss.

They coarsely traded the tastes of earthiness, smoke, mint and desire as their feet padded slowly toward the frustratingly cramped single bed. Grumbling at the hurdles pitched across his route, he settled on the edge of the bed, listening to it creak under the immense weights of an adamantium skeleton and the hankering for control. Hauling her impatiently into his lap for a smattering of foreplay and hurried fumbles, she had other ideas and eased confidently onto his glistened and hardened head.

While she glided downwards, their heated groans diluted with sporadic eye contact. "It's just a quickie, one for the road," she whispered teasingly in his ear, scooping the hair from her face and tying it into a relaxed ponytail.

He raised a snooping eyebrow and studied her face. Despite being impaled on his member, with his domineering arms wrapped around her waist, she still continued to poke and prod the Wolverine, desperate for a peek behind the shady curtain of dominance, authority and control. They crossed a lethal line of no return tonight because this didn't compare to the lazy tag of fuck buddies. That goddamn ship had sailed before the passengers even boarded. He broke free from the muddied musings when she rocked back and forth, luring an intense growl from his lips.

The feral mindset consumed Logan's darkened gaze as the palms of his hands rested roughly on her hips. He halted the movements and shifted himself until his back leaned against the headboard. As he readjusted Marie to his exact liking, her gaze danced with amusement and intrigue.

"Let's see what you can do," he grunted huskily in her ear and loosened the controlling grip.

With an effortless grunt of approval, he watched her ride him like a pro. She began to pant after the one-minute mark, little moans lifting from her lips and landing squarely on the rumbles of further admiration that crawled from his throat. He reached forward, caught her hips and guided them into a rougher, firmer, faster pace.

Impatience got the better of him, and he repeatedly ground into her sex, smirking at the sound of her whimpering moans. They retained their movements, and his teeth clenched as her eyes drifted closed. His body was fully rigid as the warmth skated over them, and she panted wearily in his arms.

They were both motionless and uncommunicative, catching their breaths as they perspired. Logan felt like he'd been sucker punched. He spilt his seed in her faster than other conquests and craved a repeat performance. Thoughts collided, and a dominating growl formed on the tip of his tongue. He didn't care about her so-called addiction or the whoring on a street corner. Her past meant nothing, nor did the last breakdown of her relationship. All he cared about was her being his. Nothing mattered as long as he kept her safe and cuffed to his bed until she worked through her problems.

Marie gazed at him, and pearls of perspiration were visible on her skin. Her lips brushed against his, and she smiled warmly. "I really enjoyed myself even though I did all the work," she whispered, blushing slightly. "Do you know what, Logan? Jubilee always told me to pay attention to the vegetables, and yours is my favourite."

Her eyes darted to the alarm clock on the bedside table. Oh my God, it's almost seven! You can let yourself out. I need to get ready." She scooted off his lifeless member and rushed into the bathroom without a second thought.

Logan glowered at the far wall, listening to the sounds of the shower running. What the hell just happened? The fury pounded inside his veins as he searched infuriated thoughts for an answer. She used him for a quick fuck and then planned to do whatever she wanted afterwards, most likely bedding down in the back of a shitty sedan while somebody slipped her a twenty-dollar bill. He growled at the feeling of jealousy, and the Wolverine demanded they protect their mate. Scowling at his less-than-satisfied cock, he plotted to put an end to her selling herself once and for all.