Author's note: Sorry, y'all. I'm still chasing my own tail here between the epic crazy at work and a home reno project that's grown exponentially. Confession: This was finished last weekend but my beta's been on vacay. I will gladly throw her under the bus! ((grin)) Hopefully this double length chapter will keep ya goin' until I can finish (read: write!) the next part. Onward!
The Wolverine heard his woman before he saw her. Her boot heels rang sharply on the concrete floor of the garage. He turned his head. She was wearing his cowboy hat and a sweet little red sundress, lit from behind by the late afternoon sun. God only knew what she had on under it. Probably nothing. No gloves either, which meant she'd come from their house and not the school. He wondered what was on her mind.
The inattention cost him a chunk of knuckle to the old Indian he was in the process of restoring. "Fuck," he hissed, sucking the blood from the newly healing skin as he sat up for a better look.
"Looks good, sugar." Her eyes lingered on the bike, noting the changes since she'd last seen it. He'd mounted the tank and the headlight and was now working on the brake assembly.
His eyes never left her. "Sure does."
She tossed him a beer that he narrowly missed catching because he was still looking at her legs.
Marie snapped her fingers. "Up here, cowboy."
"Gettin' there," he grunted, touching her lightly behind the knee before he stood up and brushed his knuckles up her spine. "Takin' the scenic route." When he kissed her she tasted like Molson and Marie.
He chuckled when she grabbed his ass and gave it an appreciative squeeze before hopping up on the tailgate of his truck next to the open toolbox. She made room for him between her knees and pulled him close for a moment, resting her head on his shoulder with a soft contented sigh before she pushed him away.
"Make up your mind, kid. You're givin' me whiplash here." He squeezed her thigh with his free hand, not moving closer but not retreating, either. She was in a strange mood and the Rogue's fire burned brightly in her eyes. Definitely a woman on a mission. He drained the beer in four long swallows and set it on the tailgate.
"You'll live. At least for now." Her smile sharpened. "Watcha doin'?"
"Fishin'," he deadpanned.
Marie threw back her head and laughed. The rich sound was infectious and made his lips twitch too.
"You know, you told me the same thing that afternoon I came in here and asked you to take me to the Red Door."
"Yeah?" All he remembered was the way she'd stroked the tank of his bike and her luscious scent, fertile and ripe.
"Yep." She met his eyes. "I was wondering what you thought about a repeat performance."
She wasn't quite sure what he'd think of that, but she hadn't expected to see all the amusement leave his face. His expression was intense.
"Don't ask me for that unless you're prepared for what comes after."
"What comes after?"
"I can't do that again. Not like it was before. Not now."
"Who says I want that?" His eyes widened slightly. "I'd be disappointed if you kept your hands to yourself this time, sugar," she purred, raking her fingers down his chest with a little shimmy that made his jaw clench. "Let me break it down for you, cowboy. I'm inviting you, this time."
"Invitin' me to do what, exactly?" She could see the points of his claws beginning to emerge and she wondered what was going through his head.
"To watch a show. Just watch. And maybe fool around together after. I'm not interested in anyone but you touchin' me, sugar."
"Good. I'd kill any man who tried." He didn't even raise his voice. It was a pure statement of fact.
"Any man? What if it was a woman?"
"Don't go there unless you're ready for the answer."
He merely grunted. The answer was complicated. He couldn't deny that he had fantasies about her with another woman. What man didn't think about his woman's mouth between another woman's legs at some point? However the more primal part of his nature was wildly, violently opposed to the idea. The Wolverine was wholly and intractably about monogamy and having her smell of no one but him. Period.
His smile sharpened and that playful light crept back into his eyes. "You sayin' you wanna suck a pussy for me, darlin'?"
The deliberately crude words got their intended reaction. A bolt of heat struck her so hard that if she'd been standing, she'd have swayed on her feet. Marie felt her face heat and shifted restlessly on the tailgate.
"Heh." He smirked at the expression on her face. "Don't look at me, kid. S'on you. Ain't me drivin' this train."
Her gaze sharpened and she suddenly seemed less a rabbit run to ground and more the predator stalking her own prey. "Damn straight." The Rogue hooked her boot around the back of his calf and pulled him closer, spreading her thighs to accommodate his heavy frame. He was close enough now that she could feel his body heat through his jeans. She could smell him, too. Sweat and man and engine grease and that crisp scent of the outdoors that always clung to him.
"Whatcha lookin' for here, baby? Because if it's just about scratchin' a dirty little itch, we can do that in the Danger Room without bringin' anyone else into it." The Wolverine didn't give a shit about computer generated 'people'. No scent. No heartbeat. No blood pounding with fear or lust. They were beneath him. The idea had caught the man's interest, however. He'd read her stories. There were a few he wouldn't mind revisiting in that environment.
Marie understood what he wasn't saying. A romp in the Danger Room wouldn't put anyone else in physical jeopardy the way a return trip to the Red Door would.
"It's not that."
"You after somethin' wilder?" There was an edge to his voice. He gestured to his chest and then hers. "This not enough?"
Her other leg wound around the back of his thigh and she pulled him flush against her crotch, still leaning back on her hands, looking up at the harsh lines of his face.
"Sugar, everything I want is right here. We could get in this truck right now, drive away and I'd never look back."
"Mmph." Her scent said that was the stone cold truth. She was a soft touch about a lot of things, but when it came right down to brass tacks, she was a slash and burn kinda girl. No prisoners. No regrets, either.
"You're right, though. I do want something wilder. But I want it with you. I want to know what you did there. I want to do it with you." She wanted to make sure she had all of him. To know all of him.
He suddenly understood. This was less about wanting a walk on the wild side and more about staking the ultimate claim. It was possession, pure and simple. She wanted all of him.
That he understood all too well.
They both knew she had him then when the growl of approval was out before he could respond in words. "Grrr….."
"Mmm…. Is that a yes, sugar?"
"You best be sure, darlin'. It ain't somethin' I can turn on and off. Once we're there and he's engaged, we're all along for the ride until he's good and done."
Her scent bloomed at that, slick and full and luscious; creamy against the fly of his jeans.
"That a yes, baby?" He dropped his hand and squeezed her thigh, leaving behind dark fingerprints and dirty smudges as his fingers trailed higher, pushing up the hem of her sassy fire engine red sundress as he went. It matched her ruby red pout. Full rosy lips curling up into a sultry smile.
Her breasts heaved. She was still leaning back, her palms braced behind her on the bed of the truck, but her legs were wrapped around his hips and he could feel the heels of her favorite boots digging into the back of his thighs. She was beginning to rock against him a little, rubbing that gorgeous scent over the bulge at the front of his jeans. He leaned in, enjoying her soft gasp. She was bare under that little dress and he knew the buttons on his fly would hurt good.
He flicked the brim of her cowboy hat higher so he could keep eye contact with her as he moved closer still. "Still didn't get an answer, baby. Least not one from your mouth." He nipped her sharply. "We goin'? Yes or no?"
She giggled, shivering at the rough bristly stubble on his face. "Hell, yes." She was mildly annoyed that he'd turned her invitation around on her. "I'll let you know when."
He grunted in amusement at that. Staying one step ahead of her was increasingly difficult and he enjoyed the hell out of that challenge.
"As for the rest? I'll be waiting."
"For your follow-through, this time. You talk a big game, but maybe you're all hat and no cattle."
He chuckled. "Guess we'll find out soon enough."
"Sugar, I'm gonna blow your mind."
Of that, he had no doubt.
The white eyelet lace edging her dress tickled the back of his hand as they both looked down at the possessive mark he'd made on her creamy thigh. His big paw had left a dirty handprint that practically screamed Property of the Wolverine. His fingers inched higher under her skirt.
"Don't you dare get this dress dirty, cowboy." She said it like a challenge.
"Heh." His eyebrow rose. "You always gotta push."
"Yeah," she said, smiling up at him through her lashes.
She was completely unprepared for him to pull away abruptly. She was forced to unclasp her legs or risk falling to the floor of the garage. He took advantage of her momentary instability and wrapped one big hand around her upper arm, just below the sleeve of her dress.
He could tell he'd caught her off guard because he felt the draw of her skin ripple through him as he jerked her off the tailgate. It was forceful but not violent. He spun her around, her back to his front, letting go of her arm and pinning her against the unforgiving metal of one frame with the heavy metal of another. The empty beer bottle wobbled and fell with the force of the impact, smashing on the floor with a sharp crunch that made her flinch.
Logan knew it was almost not right, but he also knew she liked these kinds of games as much as he liked the freedom to use his weight and power to his advantage.
He put his hand on her throat. This time, she was in control enough of her skin that the draw didn't begin right away. The more they played these impromptu erotic games, the better she got at controlling her skin. She'd only gotten a bit of Mississippi inside her this time.
"Pull up the back of your skirt," he growled into her ear.
"God!" She complied immediately, tugging hard at the fabric that was trapped between their bodies with desperate fingers. The edge of the tailgate dug into her hips as his considerable weight pressed into her from behind. She could feel the rough denim against the smooth skin of her buttocks and thighs.
Logan took the opportunity to slide his hand into the front of her dress to cup a breast. He'd been right. She was completely bare beneath that little dress. He pinched her nipple with a knowing grin. She should be rewarded. God knew he wanted to encourage more of that in the future.
He pushed his hips against hers, aware the indirect stimulation would be maddening. She whimpered and tried to spread her legs and bend forward even more but he grabbed her arms instead, chuckling as she squirmed, body looking for more friction. From him. From the tailgate. Anything. She'd be touching herself if he hadn't trapped her arms.
Pulling her back into him, he ground against her ass. "Y'like that, baby?"
Christ, the lush scent of her want was killing him.
"Got your attention now?"
His skin tingled where he was touching her and he was forced to let go and readjust his grip to avoid the draw of her mutation. It left another set of smudgy prints on her wrists to match the ones on her upper arms, neck and thigh. He wet his lips with the unconscious urge to bite her. Hard.
"Unnngh..." Her skin flipped on just for a second and the buzz electrified them both. The force of his wildness rushed into her and she rumbled a feminine growl back at him. "Rrrr…."
"Heh." That sound got to him every time. He let her wrists go. "Hands on the bed of the truck." He followed her in, putting his hands to the outside of hers. Not touching her skin at all now, but very aware of the sweet ass rubbing against his crotch as he caged her in. The button fly hurt good for him, too. Christ, he was hard. He could feel the blood pounding in the thick stand of flesh trapped between their bodies.
She wiggled against him, smiling as he groaned. He might have the upper hand, but she wasn't without power of her own.
He could tell what she wanted. What she expected. It was unlikely they'd even get caught in the two or three minutes it would take for him to rip open his pants and fuck her hard until they both came. If she'd been fertile and peaking today, he'd probably have been unable to resist, but she wasn't, and for as much as they both enjoyed dirty little quickies, he also enjoyed his role as her teacher.
Her appetite for pleasure was every bit as voracious as his own. She was curious and playful. Her inexperience was both an aphrodisiac and a shackle, firing their blood even as it held them back from the places they longed to explore. He enjoyed pushing her, and teaching her; challenging her to new and dizzying heights of pleasure. She had few hard limits and he relished finding the edges where the Rogue's brazen wantonness stopped and his sweet Marie began. The lines were all over the place. She was delightfully unpredictable.
"Please tell me you have a condom," she panted. Her control was too spotty today. It would be better for them both if they didn't have to think about her skin in their rush to pleasure.
"I do." Strip of three in his wallet, like always.
"Then whatcha waitin' on, cowboy? Giddyup before we get caught!"
He slapped her bare ass for her insolence and enjoyed the following dirty handprint on her skin as well as the red mark that followed.
"No?" The confusion in her voice was as sweet as the frisson of disappointment in her scent.
"This ain't your rodeo, darlin'."
"You want something else?" He saw her eyes dart to the truck's cab and then the bathroom and then the little office in the corner of the garage. It had a door that locked, too. Her scent grew even thicker with lust and he rubbed against her in spite of himself. Her gaze fell on the open toolbox at their feet. Plenty of smooth solid tools with thick round handles. The Rogue was an impatient lover. Always pushing him to keep the lead. "What do you want?" She was clearly up for whatever he had in mind and he almost felt bad about wasting that opportunity, but it was a different lesson he had in mind for today.
"Wantcha to shut up and listen."
His head reared back as she turned her face and tried to bite him. He wound a hand into her hair and kept her still while he put his mouth to delicate whorl of her ear.
"I wanna talk about the Red Door."
He felt her shiver hard against him and she nodded.
"Your idea. Your show. My rules." She shivered again and he wondered if her thighs were slick yet. "That make you hot, baby?"
She bit her lip in answer, still willing to play his game for now.
"I wantcha to wear your tallest, dirtiest fuck-me boots and the shortest, sluttiest black skirt outta the firecracker's closet."
"God!" That would be positively indecent. Jubliee was smaller than she was and a skirt that fitted would be much shorter stretched over her own ample curves. Her chin lifted defiantly. "So I take it we're not going on the bike? Unless you're looking to get arrested on the way there?"
He snorted in amusement. "S'your show. You can get us there however you like, kid." The gleam in her eye said she was going to make him sorry for tossing that back at her. Christ, he hoped she'd try. Half the shit he said to her was tossed out there just to see what she'd do with it.
"Just the boots and the skirt, cowboy?" Her voice shook with fear and excitement and he wondered if he said 'yes' if she'd do it just to show him up. Probably. Which made him proud and excited even as his stomach roiled with the desire to kill anyone who dared to touch what was his.
"Nope." He shook his head slowly and took a moment to lick a long slow stripe up her neck. "Wanna see ya in that sheer black blouse with the leopard bra under. Black gloves. Wrist length. Leather." The black satin ones were his favorite, but there was something about leather on her that sent his libido into a whole different gear.
"Not unless you want me to cut 'em off before we leave." That earned him a fiery glare. She liked expensive lingerie, when she wore any at all. She liked the bladeplay, too. Just not the cost of replacing the things he shredded. He was not a patient man.
"What's a girl supposed to think of that, I wonder? You wanna show me off?"
He couldn't help but notice the shiver that sent through her. Interesting.
"Darlin', they can look. They just can't touch."
"And you, sugar? You gonna touch me?" She rubbed against him pointedly.
"Not now." He stepped back and almost laughed at her screech of outrage as she turned around on shaky legs to glare at him. "I gotta bike that needs fixin'," he added, just to wind her up that much more.
"And what if I do the touchin'?" She hopped back up on the tailgate and opened her legs suggestively, trailing her slim white fingers up her thigh and pulling the hem of her little red dress up as she went.
He raised an eyebrow, wondering how far she was willing to take this game of chicken. Her eyes darkened as the handprint he'd left on her thigh appeared, a stark contrast against her pale skin.
"Go right ahead, kid. We both know that ain't whatcha really want." He ran a palm over the obscene bulge directly under his showy buckle. "Got that right here."
He stepped between her spread knees. She shot him a look of triumph that became a pout when she realized he wasn't going to touch her. At least, not the way her body was screaming for.
"Heh." He rubbed a thumb over the fingerprints on her thigh and then her wrist before catching her eye.
"What?" she huffed petulantly, her body shifting uncomfortably on the hard metal seat. She ached to feel him over her and inside her. The weight of his body. The scent of his skin and breath. The burn and stretch of penetration and the thick heaviness that wound tighter and tighter as he rutted and thrust and teased until she snapped. The boneless lethargy that followed. Feeling him shudder and spend himself against her. Watching his face slide into vulnerability after. She craved him. All of him. Everything.
"Marked ya real good." Neck. Breasts. Thighs. Buttocks. Wrists. Arms. Not so much as a smear on her dress, though. Generally he didn't give a fuck about the rules, but occasionally bending them was more fun than breaking them outright.
Her eyes narrowed. He'd followed the letter of the law rather than the spirit. And she'd enjoyed every damn bit of it. He knew it, too.
"I marked you too." Her eyes flashed at him provocatively and she trailed a fingertip over the slippery iridescence drying on the front of his jeans. Jesus, he loved her like this. All prickly and defiant, spitting like a feral cat.
Logan took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth, intent on savoring even that faint lingering taste. He chuckled when she jerked her hand away, depriving them both of that sensory experience.
Sliding a dirty hand up under skirt, he grabbed her ass and pulled her flush against him. Hard. He couldn't tell from the expression on her face if she wanted to bite him or kiss him or both. Where their volatile, wilder counterparts were involved, there was a fine line between fighting and sex.
"I know ya want it," he rumbled against her skin. "Bad." He rocked against her and they both shuddered. "I do too." There was no denying it in the worn jeans he favored, even if she wasn't pressed up against his erection.
"Then what the hell's the problem, cowboy?"
"Not a damn thing." The look of genuine confusion on her face blunted the sharper edge of his desire. "I wantcha to feel this way. Hot. Wet. Needy. I wantcha to think about it all day. How much you want it. How slick it feels when you walk 'cause you're so damn wet. That heavy feelin' in your belly that tells ya you need to be fucked good n'hard."
"God!" Her eyes were big as dinner plates, pupils blown wide.
He pulled her closer. "I wantcha to think about this." He thrust against her hard enough that they both saw stars. "I wantcha to think about my cock. How good it feels when I make ya come on it over and over 'till ya need some Mississippi in ya to keep on goin'."
"Ooohhh…" Her lashes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open in a soft pant and Logan wondered if he could make her come this way, just with his voice and the agonizingly indirect friction, but that wasn't what he wanted. Not today. Today he was after the burn. The wait. The buildup.
"I wantcha to want to so much ya can't think about anythin' else but havin' me between your legs. When you bend over, I wantcha to think about me behind you. When ya sit down, I wantcha to shiver because the impact ain't enough. Not without me under ya. When your clothes move on your skin, I wantcha to think about my hands on ya. Holdin' ya down." He moved closer, so she could feel his breath on her skin. "Holdin' ya close."
He chuckled into her hair. "Trust me, darlin'." She stiffened a little against him and he backed off because he didn't want to make her come. Not now. Not yet. "You'll like it this way. The waitin' makes it better. Makes it so ya come harder than you ever thought you could. By the time I come find ya later, you'll be so wild for it that I bet I could make ya come just from spreadin' your legs and blowin' over that hot, wet skin."
"Unnh…" Her whole body shuddered.
He stepped back. "None of that now, baby. Wait for tonight. No touchin' yourself, either. I wantcha wild for me. So hot for it you'll do anythin' I want." His voice dropped. "Anythin'." The bass rumble made her shiver.
Good. She should feel that way. 'Anything' covered a hell of a lot of ground between two creatures as wild as the Wolverine and the Rogue.
She turned and he let her, her face staring up into his with a light in her eyes that he'd never seen before.
"What about you, cowboy?"
"You gonna think about me all day, too?" she purred. "How your eyes squeeze shut when you first push in? How sometimes it's so good you shake after? How wet you make me? How tight I am, still." His jaw clenched. "You're the only one who's ever touched me that way. Who's ever come in me. I love it so much."
"Say it again."
She knew what he wanted to hear.
"You're the only one for me, sugar. The only one."
"Fuck," he breathed, as caught up in the game now as she was.
She laughed and her eyes drifted down his body to the erection straining under the worn denim. "That's gonna hurt later."
His brow lifted. "I'll heal."
She giggled again, and before he quite knew what she was doing, she'd swiped her fingers between her legs and run the wet, glistening digits over his nose and mouth. "Heal from that, cowboy."
A growl ripped through the air. He shuddered as he drew in a breath so completely saturated with her scent that the world went a little hazy around the edges as the Wolverine joined the party. Logan couldn't help opening his mouth and panting, tongue flicking out to savor her as deeply as possible. His eyes were on fire, gold and wild.
"I want you thinkin' about me all day, too. Both of you."
"Gonna make ya pay for that later, little girl."
The shards of brown glass crunched sharply under her boots as she sashayed away. "You damn sure better, sugar."
Up next: No idea! Haven't written it yet. Heh. I'm flying completely without a net here. ;)
Now taking suggestions for what y'all wanna see go down at the Red Door. My Wolverine muse has some pretty damn specific ideas, but he's always open to a dirty suggestion or two. What kinda erotic show will the Wolverine and the Rogue watch this time? Will anything happen between them before? After? Shall I include Willow again? Will the Feral Mississippi Man make another appearance? If you have a bunny, now's the time to fling it!