The door slammed hard as Rogue entered her darkened bedroom.
"Stupid. Arrogant. Stubborn bastard!" she yelled. She was hurt, but she wasn't sad. She was irate! Her room was tilting because of the champagne, but it was fury that was clouding her vision. Rogue wanted to hit something. Hard. Maybe punch a hole through the wall. Instead she teetered dangerously on one leg and threw each shoe, one at the time, at the wall.
"Who the fuck does he think he is?" she argued with the wall. "How can he…act like that?!! God - I am such an idiot! I oughta go down there right now and beat the shit out of him!"
Rogue unzipped the skirt and threw it in the general direction of her closet. Pacing the room, she felt the need to go down there and give him a lesson on the difference between her and other women; about his idiotic behavior. She would not be treated this way. Screw him! That she was even wearing her fancy black and red ribbon panties that she'd worn once before to flaunt her stuff in front of him - what a fucking waste of time and money!
"That asshole can't even remember my birthday!" she growled at the wall. He’d never forgotten a thing like that before. What the hell was the matter with him? The room was starting to tilt further. Exhausted, she fell back across her bed and brought a pillow over her face with a groan. She wasn't going to cry, she was too angry for tears.
"You needin' a punching bag, angel?" a low voice asked from her door.
Rogue rumbled a growl from underneath her pillow. Perfect, she thought. The hits just kept on coming.
"Creed," she bit off, sitting up, "I do not need your shit right now. Get the fuck out!"
Never one to listen to direction, he closed the door behind him and moved towards her bed. "You left it unlocked. Thought you wanted company."
Feeling the blood coursing through her veins and aching to take her frustration out on someone, Rogue shot up and shoved him with every ounce of strength she had. Victor stumbled back, losing his balance.
"Do not start with me!" she warned.
From across the room, he let out a warm chuckle.
"Didn't know you had that much brawn in ya, little girl. You oughta get pissed off more often. So tell me...who's the bastard that's turned you into such a hellion, huh?"
"You just don't ever listen, do ya?" she spat at him. As he moved closer she lashed out, knocking him back again but this time following him and landing fists against his chest.
"That's right angel, let it all out. I promise I can take it." Victor was eyeing her now; appreciating her lack of proper clothing, but still managing to provoke her wrath.
"Stop it! Stop talking!" she yelled, wanting to kick and hit and scream.
"It was your runt, wasn't it? What - did lover boy piss you off? Reject you? Hurt your feelings? You wanna hurt him back? Or you just wanna hurt me? Come on, angel - hurt me...I won't tell." As he spoke his voice grew softer, taunting, and as he moved in, she reflexively backed up.
"He didn't reject me," she answered, wincing at how pitiful it sounded.
"Really? Then why are you here and not with him? Maybe you just don't do it for him," Victor countered.
"It's not like that! And I most certainly do it for him! He can't hide..." she broke off.
"You're right. I'm sure you do it for him. A man would have to be blind...and you certainly do it for me," he rumbled. "I mean you walkin' around, dressed like that - he'd have to be a eunuch not to notice you. You've got a perfect ass ...and in those panties..."
Rogue lashed out again. "Stop patronizing me!"
She knew what she looked like right now. The black lace screamed 'Come get me!’ and her morals and good behavior had checked out for the night. Let him get an eye full, she thought angrily. Before she could blink, two hands wrapped like vice grips around her wrists, jerking her forward.
"Does it feel like I'm patronizing you?" he hissed, and moved his grip to her hips, pulling her snugly against his body. "Does *this* feel like I'm patronizing you? Tell me angel, is this what he felt like? Long and hard and pushed up against you...is that how you knew you were doin' it for him?"
Rogue swallowed hard, slightly frightened by her precarious situation, but thrilled at his response and the power she could evidently yield. Her body was still a bundle of jagged edged nerves from the contact with Logan, and Victor's body brought all those nerves into razor sharp focus. His hands felt huge and bone crushingly strong as they gripped her hips then moved to her back, his fingers toying with the red bow. Rogue moved to push his hands off of her, but the action felt weak even to her. He grinned at her and slid his hands further down to smooth her bare ass.
He leaned in and whispered, "See what you can do to a man? Walkin' around like that ... makes me crazy. Don't make me stop. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you...I can make it all better."
Victor's voice was low and raspy and tickled inside Rogue's ear. It slithered across her skin and made her whole body tighten in a heavy, sweet way. He slid a massive thigh between her legs before pulling her up higher. She noticed her feet had left the floor only seconds before landing on her bed. Victor loomed over her, his black eyes traveling from her face, to the scooped neck of her top, and down her legs. It was the same look that Logan had in his eyes just before they kissed. Those eyes were hungry, those eyes wanted to devour. As Victor buried his face into her hair, nuzzling her neck, one of his huge hands traveled up her thigh.
"I'm gonna touch you, Rogue. Don't tell me to stop."
She knew she should, part of her wanted him to stop. This was Victor Creed. This wasn't Logan. But her body was aching for it, and he would deliver if his words were any indication. His weight was almost smothering and his breath was an inferno against her neck. Instinctively, her hips moved towards his hand. Strong fingers brushed against her panties, teasing her, rubbing lazy circles all around, everywhere but where she needed it. Closing her eyes and biting her lip, she refused to make a noise, not a sound. The pressure increased and that hand dipped down inside her underwear, fingers lingering and searching for what would drive her wild.
"Mmmm, angel, you're trying to be the silent type, but your body is begging for it," he said as his tongue made a light trail against her neck.
He slid his fingers around and found the bundle of nerves that made her whole body tense up. He manipulated her clit until her hips bucked against his hand in a silent plea for more. Slowly at first then increasing the rhythm and as the friction grew, Rogue felt the electric sensation start at the base of her spine. When sharp teeth nipped at the tendon between her neck and shoulder, an explosion rocked through her body as she finally opened her mouth.
"Oh...," she let out a gasp and opened her eyes.
Twin black eyes stared back and long, blonde hair brushed against her cheek. Rogue blinked and inhaled deeply, moving against his hand and feeling sensations that weren't quite dormant.
"One time not enough for you? My little vixen...I'll be happy to oblige since it's your birthday and all."
Her eyes widened this time, reality crashing down all around her. She pressed the heels of her hands against his chest.
"Get off! Let me up!" she said in a panic.
Victor stood up casually. "Easy, you don't wanna hurt yourself."
Rogue looked down, shaken by her provocative appearance. More than anything, she couldn't ignore the feeling throughout her body...and who was standing in her bedroom.
She sat up quickly and tried to cover herself.
"Get out," she said quietly.
"That's it?" he said on a laugh. "That's the thanks I get? I feel so used."
"Get out," she repeated, choking on it.
"Hey!" he said sharply, grabbing her chin. He leaned down, meeting her at eye level. "There is nothin' you need to feel bad about; nothing about you to be ashamed of. You can save that fucking regret for something that don't feel..." he inhaled slow and deep, "so damn good."
Rogue held her breath as she watched him leave.
***************
She sat at a table underneath one of the huge oaks on Xavier's property. There were a few kids milling about, but for the most part everyone was indoors. It was a semi-isolation she was grateful for; there was no way she could face anyone right now. Rogue leaned her elbows on the table edge and wrapped her arms around each other. If she sat too still, she could feel the imprint of his hands on her. Creed's breath still felt hot against her neck and he was no where in sight. The heat was a guilt that spread across her skin, making her feel dirty and traitorous. How could she have let him do that? Something was definitely wrong with her. Of course she'd felt hurt, and yes, rejected and part of her did want to lash out at Logan, but not like that!
What had she been thinking last night? What possessed her to throw herself at Logan and then...then...she couldn't even think about it. Temporary insanity, that's what it'd been, and Logan was partially to blame. That's right; it was his fault for leaving her vulnerable, for knocking her down so many notches. Damn him! Damn Creed too! Maybe she could just skulk away in the middle of the night and go on an extended vacation to somewhere far, far away. Yeah, that sounded ideal right about now.
Rogue propped her head against her hand, studying the wood grain of the picnic table. Somewhere warm would be nice, she thought, somewhere warm and isolated and a long way from Xavier’s. She hadn't been anywhere truly warm and tropical since she learned to manage her mutation. Now she could go and actually wear a bathing suit; sun bathe and play in the ocean, maybe drink one of those fruity drinks with the umbrellas in them, a pina colada or a daiquiri, or both. Jubilee might take some time off and go with her. That would be perfect! She could run aw-, correction, take a break and by the time she came back maybe everything would be okay again. The full blown day dream of a tropical vacation took over her thoughts for awhile, but the truth was - it would still be running away.
With a sigh she switched her head to the other hand. Who was she trying to fool? She couldn't leave, not now. Right now she had responsibilities and a squad to lead - and her pride wouldn't let her tuck tail and run from either Logan or Victor. No, she'd face her issues like a big girl...eventually. For now though, she wanted to hide.
Something moved, coming in from the corner of her vision. It was a narrow black box. Startled, Rogue looked up into Logan's face. He looked about as guilty as she felt - and that was saying a lot because she felt pretty damn guilty.
"Hey," he said quietly.
"Hey."
"I didn't forget your birthday," he said quickly. "I just didn't...remember it in time."
That must be some kind of man logic; she thought and glanced back down at the box.
"This is a birthday gift?"
He leaned his weight against the table, staring down at her. "Yeah."
Rogue noticed the shiny black box was tied with red ribbon and was suddenly thankful for the protective shield her hair provided as she looked down. Was it wrapped that way on purpose or...? Her color deepened, dear God she'd thrown herself at him last night. And he'd politely told her no, after giving her the best kiss of her life of course. Then she'd yelled at him and proceeded to let Victor... Could she crawl in a hole and die now?
"Logan," her voice came out a croak so she cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm...I'm sorry about...about how I acted last night."
She held up a hand when he tried to interrupt her. "I shouldn't have done that and...I shouldn't have yelled at you...and I...shouldn't have done a lot of things, but...I wasn't thinking. Could we...I just wanna forget last night ever happened," she said, thoroughly embarrassed.
Logan looked at her, silent long enough to draw her attention, but then he nodded.
"Yeah," he said, sliding in across from her. "I figured that's how you'd feel af-," he stopped. "Anyway, yeah...and I'm sorry too. I should've...remembered your birthday...sooner."
Picking up the box, Rogue tilted it back and forth. Her face still felt beet red and she knew the subject needed changing. Quick.
"So can I open it?"
He got out half a nod before she was pulling on the ribbon and opening it to find a delicate silver necklace, strung with a small pearl pendant.
"Logan," she sighed in shock, all ill will and regret temporarily evaporated. "Wha ... how ... but ... it's - it's beautiful," she beamed.
He just smirked in agreement.
"But why? How did...I mean...you didn't have to...I'm just gonna say thank you now," she stammered.
That earned her a wry chuckle.
"Ah you deserve more than that, but, I don't know - I wanted to get you something nice and it made me think of you."
"It's too much," she said but inside she was in heaven.
"Rogue," he said, suddenly serious, "I know I’ve acted like an asshole lately. Plus, I've known you longer than I've known anyone around here or anyone...ever, for what I can remember. If I want to buy you a necklace for your birthday, believe me, it's not too much."
She smiled at him then. He was right; it wasn't too much...but then she thought about last night - and what had happened. Fresh guilt flooded her like a tidal wave.
Logan noticed the darkness that passed over her face.
"What's wrong?"
Shaking her head, she painted on a smile again. "Nothing. Nothing at all," she lied.
Logan thought about how he’d dodged her since the night they almost kissed. Avoidance hadn’t helped matters in the least, and now that they had kissed, he knew avoidance wasn’t the answer. She obviously had regrets and he was properly guilty, but the best thing now would be to try and return to normal as soon as possible. The last thing he wanted was to lose her completely.
"So, look - how 'bout you let me take you out for some birthday dinner. Or are you hanging out here tonight for cafeteria food?"
Meals at Xavier's were far flung from anything resembling cafeteria food, but Logan was offering to take her out. She could be with him and away from the mansion.
"I think I'll let you take me to dinner."
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Her room was tilting because of the champagne, but it was fury that was clouding her vision. Rogue wanted to hit something. Hard. Maybe punch a hole through the wall. Instead she teetered dangerously on one leg and threw each shoe, one at the time, at the wall.