'Oh God' He thought as he felt himself harden for the umpteenth time since his six-month return. Jesus fucking Christ. Marie. Practically naked Marie, twirling around in a carefree manner, modelling the new skin-baring ensemble that yellow wearing girl - 'Jubilee'- he vaguely recalled – had helped her purchase in celebration of her ability to touch.
Just the reminder alone that he could now sink his hands, his mouth, into all that delectable flesh without life-threatening repercussions was enough to send a whole new wave of arousal coursing through his body. When he got his hands on that banana-wearing loudmouth, he was going to kill her. Slowly. Very, very slowly.
"Meep" was the whimpered reply that came out of his mouth. A goddamn fucking 'meep'. Jesus H. Christ, he had to get control of his vocal chords. Not to mention his rock hard cock straining against the buttons of his fly. It was a state he was used to in various degrees when in close proximity to Marie, but damn, it was painful all the same. He grabbed his jacket next to him and casually draped it across his lap.
"Logan? You feeling alright, there?" Marie inquired, gazing at him quizzically as she took in his laboured breathing and flushed cheekbones.
Fuck. He had to get out of here. Out of her room. He was surrounded by her scent. The fact that she was inching closer in the cleavage-bearing sun dress, reaching a hand up to feel his forehead while he sat motionless on the bed, just made matters worse. The bed. Her bed.
Practically naked Marie and him on the bed.
Practically naked TOUCHABLE Marie and him on the bed.
He groaned and started to sweat.
"Jesus, Logan! You're sweating bullets. You been using 'Ro's 'incense' while meditating again?" She waved her hands in the air marking quotations on the word incense. They all knew what was in that stuff, but what 'Ro did on her own time was her own business.
She raised her bare hand to caress his cheek, "Healing factor or not, sugar, you know what that stuff does to you with your heightened senses."
He shivered at her touch. God, she was caressing his face. With her bare hand. It was enough to make him almost come in his pants. Unconsciously, he leaned into the soft skin of her palm. What had she said? Something about sugar? No, that wasn't right. Christ. Her cleavage was right in front of his face now. If he leaned his head down, just the slightest, he was sure he'd be able to see right down to her –
"Logan?" She looked like she was getting concerned and frankly a little amused. "Should I go get Jean again?"
That snapped him right out of his lust-filled daze. He could just imagine the scenario that would await him if Marie brought Jeannie up here to check him out.
Hmm... accelerated pulse, dilated pupils, laboured breathing…well... what's this? Raging hard-on. Ah. Let me check my references…yes… yes… I thought so... seems as though Wolverine has a severe case of Lustitis. It's a very rare form with only one cure and if not treated will eventually cause insanity and finally death. Rogue, I'm afraid you will have to sacrifice yourself to the cause. Wolverine is after all an immensely important member of the X-Team. We just can't afford to lose him to a rare and deadly disease such as this. I'm afraid the two of you must copulate like wild rabbits until the virus is out of his system. Let me just run some tests…Oh dear… it says here that Wolverine suffers from a repeat strain... well... I'm afraid there actually is no cure, but we can repress it with regular treatment therapy in the same fashion. It's a dangerous mission, Rogue, but to decline would be selfish. It is imperative to the good of mankind.
Yeah. That would go over real well.
Now, what had she said before that? Shit, bad ass, think. Right. 'Ro and incense. That was a scenario he was never going to repeat again. They had gone on a mission three months after his return to rescue a mutant with skin ten times deadlier than Marie's. Turned out he hadn't needed any rescuing. A trap planned by the Brotherhood was more like it. Shit. He had been out for weeks. If Scooter hadn't blown a hole through the guy's skull he would have been dead for sure. As it was, his healing factor was still weak when he had woken up. Days after, while everything else had healed, his broken nose still hadn't. Marie had been scared shit-less. So had he for that matter. His hearing was still impeccable, but for someone who relied on their senses, well, not being able to smell anything, terrified him. It had been his downfall, really. Turned out 'Ro had used his meditation spot earlier that morning, as was often the case. It was her garden after all. Having forgotten to replace her incense with his own… well… singing show tunes while tap dancing on the dining hall table was not one of his finer moments. Scooter, the bastard pansy, still hummed The Love Boat whenever he walked by. No siree. Not a mistake he was ever going to make again. Ever. 'Course she didn't know that. Well…not really.
Clearing his throat, he finally found his voice. "Uh, yeah…I mean, no! Don't call Jeannie. I'll be fine darlin'. Don't know what I was thinkin' using that shit again. Just need to lie down for a bit. Think I'll be goin' now. You know, sleep it off or something'."
With that, he got up, jacket still covering his massively uncomfortable erection. He made it to the door. Home free, he thought. Now if he could just make it back to his room without limping he would be –
" You could stay here, you know. Sleep with me, instead."
His whole body went as rigid as his cock. Every muscle in his body tensed up. She couldn't possibly mean what he thought she meant. He started to pant.
"Huh?" he squeaked. What the fuck was wrong with him? The Wolverine didn't squeak. He glanced down at his makeshift camouflage. Right. That's what the problem was.
"Well, Sugar, I was getting kind of tired myself. Guess all that shopping with Jubes wore me out." She was lying on the bed now, looking up at him naively.
Oh. Guess she didn't mean it like that. He tried to quell his disappointment, while she continued speaking.
"And I know how much you liked it when I rubbed your tummy after you woke up, last time. You damn near purred. I could do that for you again if you like?"
He wished she'd rub other things.
"What was that, Logan? You know can't hear you when you mutter."
Shit, shit, shit! Had he just said that out loud?
"Nothing!" he snapped, alarmed. Oh, for Christ's sake, he thought, Get a hold of yourself, bub. Damn. She looked real hurt at that outburst. Had to fix that.
" Uh… I mean no… no that's okay, baby. 'Been having nightmares lately. Afraid I might hurt you in my sleep."
Well... okay. Doing better. So he wasn't exactly being truthful, but it was only a half lie this time. He couldn't exactly tell her he'd been having vivid dreams of an erotic nature, starring hers truly. This morning he had woken up dry humping his pillow, murmuring her name. Being only two doors down, he was certainly glad she didn't have his enhanced hearing.
She got off the bed, walking towards him. No, no. What was she doing? Aw, Christ. She smelled concerned…and that something else he could never quite figure out. She was going to hug him. He could tell. Aw, shit.
She pressed up against him in that Marie-baring sundress and his heart rate sped up a notch. Thank God for that healing factor or he'd probably be dead on the floor right now. She raised her arms around his neck, chest pressed flat against his from the height difference. The air conditioner made the room a little on the chilly side and he could feel her nipples pebbled against his pecks. Keeping the jacket between them, while returning the hug with one arm, he resisted the urge to rub against her, humping her leg like a dog in heat. He didn't think she'd appreciate that.
"Logan!" she chastised, mouth close to his ear.
Christ on a fucking crutch, he thought as he shivered at the sensation her warm breath caused.
"Why didn't you say anything? We're friends and you know I have them too. God knows how many times I've had them in the middle of the night and you've come to comfort me. It works both ways, there, sugar."
" Now don't go all 'grr' on me," she said as she felt him stiffen,"like I said, we're friends and I don't blame you for them. Heck, you're probably the best friend I have and that's a two way street. You take care of me and I take care of you. Now go on and get out of here before you start serenading me with another rendition of Laverne and Shirley," she said jokingly as she released him.
For fuck's sake. Was he ever going to live that down? he thought as he growled a little. Breathing an inward sigh of relief at making it to the door, he brushed aside his affronted masculinity for the moment. Just as he reached for the doorknob she called to him.
"You never did tell me what you thought of the dress, Logan."
Did the world have some kind of grudge against him? He was never going to make it out of here alive. He raked his eyes over her, taking in all the exposed Marie parts the dress failed to cover. He never, ever wanted to see her wearing it outside this room. He could just imagine the reaction it would get from the male population residing in the mansion. Especially that little shit Icepick or what ever the hell his name was. He'd seen him giving her the hairy eyeball and he was sure he wanted to give her something else too. Even after he had threatened the dick-less wonder, he still saw the looks he gave her when she wasn't aware.
"I never, ever want to see you wearing that thing out in public. You got that?"
Without waiting for a response, he walked out the door missing the smirk on Marie's face as she watched his retreating behind.
Giving herself a pat on the back, she snickered softly, sure he wouldn't notice over his distraction. It seemed making Logan crack wouldn't be that hard after all. She couldn't wait to tell Jubes and Kitty.