Logan snaps awake, the room is pitch black, lingering scents of lotion, liquor and cigar smoke surround him; unfamiliar noise spills in from beyond the walls, and nothing but static on the ancient TV set in the room. Through the curtains he notices the telltale yellow light from the sodium street lamps. The last vestiges of his nightmares still clinging onto his subconscious slowly fade away. He hasn’t woken up like this in a long time, not since he returned from Japan. He stretches out where he lay, his arms sliding over the cheap scratchy bed sheets, to the cold empty spot next to him, and a few memories of last night return to him.

He stayed out again, it’s been happening more often lately, but it all started when that Cajun first arrived at the mansion three years ago. Logan hated the suave bastard at first sight when he caught those red eyes lingering on Marie, his Marie. He couldn’t do anything then, the Professor had gone to great lengths to recruit that mutant. He certainly can’t do anything about it now, somehow that thief managed to sneak his way into Marie’s circle of friends.

He had to set back and watch as that Cajun and his Marie got closer, while he was treading water any and everywhere Marie seemed to be concerned. In these last few years, she went from a shy girl, a constant shadow at his side to a confident, beautiful young woman ready to face the world. Logan is at a complete loss on how to deal with this change. So he took a step back and watched, hoping to give her some time and room to grow while he figured a few things out.

Now his life is crumbling around him, last night had been the last straw, yesterday had always been theirs, his and Marie’s. It was on that day years ago he convinced her to stay, to face her powers on her own terms without the cure. He remembers how proud he was of her standing with him, with the team side by side on Alcatraz. Every year since then, that night has been for just the two of them.

Even that last bit of them is lost to him now. She left the mansion that morning with the Cajun bright and happy, just the two of them, and she didn’t make it back by the usual time. He tried texting her, calling her even, but he never received an answer back. Finally, two hours later he roared out of the school on the back of his bike. He didn’t pack; he didn’t actually want to leave; he didn’t want to run again. But he couldn’t stand it to return either not if he is to be greeted by the mansion’s newest couple. Torn between the two choices he opted to visit his favorite bar and order a few drinks.

Somewhere between his eighth and twelfth drink, he finally came to a decision of sorts, he was going to start over. It was not running away if he never intends to return, his feral instincts howled at that thought, life on the open road, with nothing but freedom, and Marie. That last thought sobered him up from his fantasies. To his dismay, there will not be Marie and the open road, it is one or the other, and it won’t matter how much his instincts despise it.

Logan has dealt with this force of nature inside of him for decades longer than most have been alive, he has grown adept at distracting it from its tantrums, violence or sex. Given the situation, violence seemed the most appropriate especially if he imagined his opponents to be that smug Cajun. It is there that his memories turns fuzzy; he remembers stepping into the cage, his rage welling up inside him ready to burst, then he finds himself waking up here. He feels calm, satisfied, fulfilled even. A strange feeling, one he remembers only once in his long life. A flash of long red curls, gentle green eyes and soft warm hands race through his mind and he sits up with a groan, quickly pushing the flash of memory away.

He stands up groggily, another first for him, even with all the alcohol and fighting that he must have done last night, he should not be in such a state. He finds his jacket and jeans, bloody and piled up in the corner, they are in better condition than he expected considering the circumstance. A quick whiff tells him that most of that blood is not his. He can still feel his healing factor diligently working away his injuries and the alcohol in his system. Then he hears it, activity in the bathroom, the sound of a shower running, of a washcloth on skin, of soft feminine sounds.

Logan curses to himself, there are no women's clothing lying around and with the white noise coming from the TV he thinks he spent the night alone. That is now proven false, worse yet on the very first night away from the mansion he got himself a hooker, judging by the flashback she must have been a redhead. He takes another deep breath; he doesn’t smell anyone else on him but the fading smell of lotion is still strong. He would never use that crap, its presence alone is incriminating. Not to mention his senses are not the sharpest right now, he certainly can’t rule anything. He stops at the pile of his clothing just as the shower shuts off. Pulling on his pants, Logan pulls out his wallet. He will pay in full, it is the quickest way to send the hooker on her away before he does anything else he regrets.

The door opens with a cloud of steam, and her scent drifts to him, he looks on flabbergasted. Marie stands before him wrapped in a thin towel barely covering her delectable figure, another towel equally worn bundled around her head. He can see the steam rising off her body as a few droplets of water drip from the exposed skin. Marie rubs her hair vigorously for a few moments before she turns around and faces him. Her concerned expression is offset by the warm smile is on her face. “Logan, you’re up.”

“Marie…” Logan looks genuinely surprised, a few bills from the small stack of money in his hand drifts down to the floor. Marie’s eyes flicker down to the other bills before rising to meet his eyes again.

“Why, Logan… got me confused with one of your call girls?” She slowly saunters up to him and tugs at the zipper of his jeans. She looks up at him through her lashes, a red hue settling on her cheeks. “Well, I’m not like them, if you wanted a blowjob or a quickie all you out have to do is ask.”

“Marie...” The rest of his money scatters down from his hand. Carefully his hands rise towards her.

“Haha! Gotcha! You should see the look on your face!” Marie suddenly flicks him on the nose and twirls out of his reach, giggling brightly. She stops a few feet away and averts her gaze apologetically. She looks nervous and absolutely stunning, “I’m sorry I missed our night.”

A grin starts on his face, she is so bright and joyful; he finds it hard not to be drawn into her pace in life. And as much as Logan would love to stay with her, he can’t do that to her. She’s finally found some happiness, and if he sticks around he’ll drag her down with him. He needs to break this off quick, he’ll be sparing her the agony and that extra bit of pain might just be what he needs to force himself away. “Hey, I get it I-”

“Remy took me out to lunch… it was fun,” Marie touches his arm before he can finish and he sees the conflict in her eyes before she looks away again. “And.. and then that stupid car of his broke down.”

“It was past midnight when I finally got back and you were gone…” She looks back at him and she almost floors him with the look she gives him; it was like he was back in that rundown little bar, back on that train, back when she first asked him to stay right at the front door of the school. It's almost like she knows he is planning to leave again. “I finally found you and… and I didn't want to wake you up so I took a shower first. I had all that motor oil and dirt all over me…”

She is kind almost too kind, her love is wide enough, deep enough to love more than just him and deep down he knows she deserves more, deserves better than want he can give her. Clenching his fists, he strengthens his resolve and tries again, “Marie, it’s fine, ya should be hanging out with kids your age more.”

“Kids my age? Logan... Remy is way older than me.” He can see the laughter in her eyes. His eyes are drawn towards her lips. He digs his fingernails into his palm when she lightly bites her lip. Her hands leave their place on his arm, with the gentlest touches she traces the contours of his muscular chest. Even with his heightened hearing he barely hears her whisper, “In fact, I think he doesn’t look much older than you.”

She pokes him in near the center of his chest right over his heart. He lets her push him back a step. Marie turns around and points towards the bathroom, “You really should take shower, Logan. It’s hard to concentrate with you being all sweaty and shirtless.”

That’s when he sees it, something sparkles on her left hand, a golden band around her ring finger. His world drops from underneath him, only the adamantium covering his bones keeps him upright. He did not expect the Cajun to move so quickly.

“You like the way it looks on me, sugar?” There is an undeniable love in the twang of her voice and Logan is certain she said yes. So deep is he in his own regret that he barely catches the next part. “I found the present, I know you wanted to surprise me with this. I saw it and it had my name on it and I been waiting for so long, I just had to try it on.”

Logan dares a second look and recognizes that piece of jewelry. She is wearing his ring, the one he custom ordered when she graduated and he’s been carrying around ever since. He can only stare at her and marvel at how quickly his shattered world can mend itself.

She must have mistaken his silence for anger, clutching her hands and fiddling with the hem of that towel around her, she smiles at him with a nervous smile. “I know you’re upset I messed up our special night. But I swear I’ll make it up to you, sugar.”

The way she looks at him, the movement of her lips, the flick of tongue as that Southern lilt washes over him, a pulse of lust travels straight through him, and his jeans are suddenly tighter than ever before. Whatever he intends to say is pushed aside when he sees the bruise on her neck. Someone bit her, his Marie.

He closes the distance between them in an instant, caging her petite form between him and the door. The towel around her hair flutters down to the ground. Her auburn hair tumbles down to her shoulders, filling the air with her heady scent. His hand rises slowly, and a finger extends to trace the mark on her neck. Even in the dark he can see her cheeks flush and her pupils dilate, the intoxicating scent of her arousal fills the space between them. Then it dawns on him, “I did that.”

She tilts her head exposing more of her neck to him, unable to fight the temptation he leans in swiping his tongue over the spot once then sealing his lips around it. He lets out a rumble; he feels Marie, secure in his arms, gasping in pleasure. “You surprised and bit me when I tried to wake you up and I accidentally drained you, just a bit.”

“And you tried to bite me again before you passed out.” He thought she would be scared if nothing else, getting bitten by someone like him but there is a playful gleam in her eyes and a hint of arousal. Logan leans forward with another growl, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Lifting Marie off the ground, he wraps her legs around his hips. His hand slips down to her ass and his fingers sink into her supple flesh. He presses her against him, grinding her against his hardening member. Still kissing, he backs up till his legs hit the edge of the bed, together they falling back onto the bed.

She lands on top of him, cheeks flush, lips swollen from his kisses, and a leg on either side him. The towel somehow stayed on her despite it all, offering a tantalizing yet frustrating glimpse of her body. The fluorescent light from the ceiling shimmers through her long wavy hair, surrounding her with a glow, making her look positively divine. He reaches out with one hand and tugs the offending towel that is still obscuring her body and flings it away. She reflexively covers herself, flushing anew. Gradually under his intense gaze, she lowers her arms and splays her fingers across the wide expanse of his chest.

“Is this how you want me to make it up to you?” Her voice is shaky at first but gains confidence with every word spoken. Even though that sassy Southern lilt he loves is back before the sentence is finished, her hands still play nervously at the zipper of his jeans. Unsure of his own voice, Logan swallows the lump in his throat and nods.

The slow clicking of his zipper being opened is almost maddening. His hands slide up her thighs and cup the roundness of her ass. He squeezes her appreciatively but also to urge her on. “Ain’t nice to tease darlin’.”

When he finally pops free of the constraints of his jeans, Logan lets out a low growl. Marie lets out a gasp and she quickly reaches out and soothes his straining cock with her fingers. “Oh! I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

Growling again, Logan yanks her forward, sliding her bare sex over his length. She gasps involuntarily then looks away embarrassed by the sound she made. Logan keeps his eyes trained on her and when their eyes meet again he tightens his grip on her hip. Carefully, she plants her hands down onto his chest and gyrates her hips experimentally gliding her soaked lips over his hot and hard cock.

Logan lays back and closes his eyes, focusing on the feel of them together and savoring the intensifying scent of arousal emanating from her. Growing bolder, Marie slowly increases her pace. He can only sit back and watch as the love of his life moves so sensually above him. Soon there is an urgency to her movements and he slides his hands up her body sinking his hands into her soft breasts, tugging on her nipples as she nears her peak.

Marie grabs hold of his hand and pulls it up to her lips. Her hips losing all sense of rhythm, she bites down onto his knuckles in an attempt to muffle her scream as she finds her release. Sliding to the floor on to her knees, she rests her head on to his thigh. Logan sits up after her, a bit of concern in his eyes. “Marie?”

“Oh my god, sugar! That was incredible,” Marie smiles up at him and notices his still engorged cock. She wraps both of her hands around his shaft and gives it an affectionate squeeze. “Though I think I might have rushed things.”

Her hands massage his cock gently from the base to his tip, and what every reply Logan planned was drowned out by a deep groan. He flings his head back and grips the bed tightly. Encouraged by his reaction and curious, Marie leans forward tasting him with a flick of her tongue.

“Fuck!” His release catches her by surprise, his length pulses in her hands covering them in his seed splashing on to her cheek. Marie does not stop, she continues to work her hands coaxing every last bit of cum from him.

Logan falls back onto the bed more sated than he can remember. He automatically wraps his arm around Marie when she climbs up next to him wiping at him with a towel. He can still sense some nervousness from her while she cleans them both. “What's wrong darlin’?”

“Nothing,” Marie shakes then runs a finger along his cock, which twitches in response. She suddenly looks at him, “It’s just that I know you’re used to more from a woman.”

“Do you now?” Logan gives her the look and chuckles when she starts to flush. He pulls her in for a kiss, “Darlin’, I’ll be happy to take whatever yer willing to give.”