In the early hours of dawn she was still wide-awake. So was Logan. He was pacing back and forth, dialing numbers and then turning off the phone and cursing silently. She heard bedsprings squeaking when Logan sat down. More dialing. Brief silence.
“It’s me.” To who was he calling now?
“I’m… I’m tired of this shit. I’m coming in.” Huh?
“I have somebody with me. A mutant. Drains life. I guess that should earn me some privileges?” What the hell was he planning now?
“Okay. Tell Stryker that I’ll be at N.Y. in two days. And tell him to keep his goons on a leash. I’m coming voluntarily, but it happens on my terms. I’ll call from where to pick us up when I get there. Is that clear?” Stryker?
When she heard the phone clattering on to the floor she pretended to be waking up and turned to look. Logan was sitting on the edge of the bed he had chosen earlier, thin sheen of perspiration covering his forehead, haunted look in his eyes. When he had been talking in the phone he had sounded sure of himself. Fearless and commanding. Now he looked about ready to fold over and crawl in to the corner and die.
“It’s time to end this,” he said with a hollow voice, staring in to nothing particularly.
“We’re going back to New York. I have made some… Arrangements…”
“I heard you. Loud and clear. You’re going to take me to Magneto. You bastard!” She flew from the bed, kicking and scratching, not caring if she drained him. Logan let her rant and rave; he didn’t even try to defend himself, not before her fingers curled around his throat.
He came up from the bed with sudden rush, backing her against the wall, contact hard enough to slam air from her lungs and force her grip from him to loosen. His face was only mere inches from hers, his eyes blazing from rage and fear. And it became very silent all of a sudden.
“I’m going to give Magneto and his crew to Stryker. You… After it’s over, you can do what ever the hell it is that you want to do…” He hissed, his hands keeping her upright from the front of her nightgown.
“I’m leaving tomorrow. You are going to stay here and wait. I call you when it’s over. If I haven’t called in three days… Just lay low. Find yourself a place to live and lay low.”
“No!”
She grasped the collar of his shirt and closed the gap between them, taking his lips to a kiss.
“Fuck…” Logan gasped, stumbled backwards, pulling her with him in to the bathroom and slammed her against the tiled wall, wrenching the shower on. Cold water hit them with full force, but it was a minor hindrance. Water was warming up quickly, and by the time they were finished undressing each other it really wouldn’t have mattered even if it had been a whole glacier raining down on them drop by drop.
He was severely weakened, and she felt dizzy, overly energetic. There simply wasn’t a way to get close enough. No way to touch enough.
He was grinding his throbbing cock against her slick crevice, both moaning from the contact, slowly sinking to the bottom of the tub, trying to minimize the damage he took from her skin through all too thin barrier the water created, teeth gnashing together as they kissed with more passion than grace.
She could hear her own voice, moaning, whispering and pleading for more. She could feel Logan’s hands on her hips, sliding lower, his fingers wrapping under her knees and urging her to wrap her legs around him. His cock sinking in, stretching and filling her inch-by-inch until it became impossible to move.
“One way or the other, kid… You’re going to be the death of me…” Logan murmured, slightly pained grimace crossing his face, his eyes locked to hers.
“Please…” She managed to utter. Logan was moving slowly, his hips grinding against her almost lazily, his cock rubbing and sending delicious jolts crashing through her whole system. She grasped his shoulders, nails breaking the skin, scratching him raw. She could feel his muscles tightening. His grip from around her growing almost desperate and he buried his face to the crook of her neck.
She retained enough sense to turn off the shower when Logan’s considerable weight threatened to almost drown her and the water started to spill over the brim of the tub, but that was her last conscious act. From there on it felt like they were both running purely by instincts, copulating like crazed weasels until they were too exhausted to do much else than to crawl off from the tub and take some distance.
“Not that I’m complaining, but… Why?” Logan asked, still trembling, trying to reach a towel from where he laid under the towel rack. She couldn’t answer. She had no answer.
“I would have… I would have come back anyway. If you heard my little chat with Vic… That was all bullshit, had to make it sound real enough and only thing that gets in to that thick head of his is sex.”
“I… I guess I just w-wanted…” She uttered, now embarrassed and ashamed, scrambling up and trying to put on her thoroughly soaked nightgown. It wasn’t going very well. Cotton was soaking wet and cold, clinging to her skin and impossible to get past her head.
“Let me help you with that,” she heard Logan say, then the gown was wrenched from her hands and thrown to the floor. Logan wrapped her gently to a ratty towel, ushering her out from the bathroom and guiding her on to the bed. She sat, her gaze firmly fixed on her toes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him now.
“Hey… Kid?” Towel-covered fingers pressed gently to the underside of her jaw, forcing her to look up. Logan was kneeling in front of her.
“Regrets?” He asked. Tone of his voice was even, but the look on his face was one of utter worry.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked. She shook her head.
“It was… It was so good. And you’re going to leave now,” she whispered, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. She wasn’t going to cry. Not now. Not in front of him.
“Yeah. I’m leaving. But I’m coming back.”
“You promise?” She asked. Logan leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on her lips, quick enough to fool her skin.
“I promise.”
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