Lay down with me;
Tell me no lies.
Just hold me close;
Don't patronize.
Rogue opened the door to once again find Logan with a square styrofoam container in his hand. He slipped passed her, placing a kiss on her cheek on the way. She wanted to laugh; the only thing missing was the declaration of "Honey, I'm home".
That thought was comforting and a little unsettling at the same time. He'd kept his promise, and she was glad to see him again. Possibly even a little excited about the prospects for the day, now that he was here. But she was also uneasy about where these get-togethers were leading.
Logan had put the food in the microwave and was pulling the orange juice out of the refrigerator. He reached into the cabinet and smiled at the jelly jars that double as glasses. There seemed to be a few things that were hardwired into a person's subconscious.
Sitting down opposite him, she scrutinized the large chunks of deep-fried…something. "What are these?" she asked, picking one up.
"Cinnamon roll pieces, dipped in French toast batter, then deep fried. Thought you might enjoy it." He took a bite and raised an eyebrow at her.
Cautiously she nibbled the chunk in her hand. Her eyes went wide and she quickly took a larger bite. "Oh my word! Where on earth did you get these?"
A smile of satisfaction crossed Logan's face. "Little café in Wyoming."
"I would have thought the South for sure. Gambit knew all the best places and there was never anything like this."
They ate in silence. Logan had wondered at her connection to Gambit, what had made her leave the Brotherhood, and led her to Gambit. "Remy LeBeau?"
Rogue licked the maple syrup from her fingers and simply nodded. He noted that there was no accompanying emotion connected to the name. He prompted again. "How did you end up with Gambit?"
The corner of her lips quirked up a little at Logan's interest. "Mystique had some dealings with Gambit that ended on less than pleasant terms. When I left the Brotherhood at seventeen, it seemed the perfect way to thumb my nose at her."
She held no particular fond memories of Remy, he'd been a part of her life and she'd moved on. "What's to know? Gambit taught me to use finesse and helped me polish my image." She shrugged a shoulder. "It was … nice while it lasted."
Once again Logan noticed the lack of feeling, even her choice of the word nice was devoid of emotion. He had to wonder how much of the past Rogue remembered this way. Was there anything in her past remembered warmly?
She'd risen to take the empty plates to the sink. The smile playing at the corner of her lips again. "You wouldn't be jealous of Gambit, would you?"
He snorted at the thought; he was with her now and that is what mattered. "Darlin', I don't do jealous."
Sauntering around the counter, Rogue climbed onto his lap. Stroking a sideburn, she laid her Southern accent on thick. "Not even a little, Sugar?"
The amusement left his eyes and was replaced with a fierceness that surprised her. "No." His voice with heavy with the same fierceness and left no question as to ever playing a game of that nature with him.
A possessive arm snaked around her waist, pulling her to him. Capturing her lips, he thrust his tongue into her mouth. After her initial astonishment at his suddenness, she relaxed, letting him show her what he wanted. The kiss was hard and demanding, like nothing she'd experienced before.
When she pulled back for a breath, he let out a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver through her. "Mmm…" The lines around his eyes softened and he seemed to be fighting an internal battle. Rogue didn't know the battle, but she knew she wanted him to continue what they started. The kiss and the firm grip of his hand on her inner thigh were intriguing.
Logan wanted to tell her he loved her, but he wasn't sure she would understand yet. He didn't want to spook her and end up starting all over again. Instead he would do his best to demonstrate his need for her.
It didn't matter what timeline it was, this was Marie; she was the same person. Her smell, her personality; might be in slightly different proportions, but she was still his and he was hers.
He adjusted his hold on her and stood up, cradling her. Another growl of satisfaction escaped at her squeal of delight. He made his way to the bed and none too softly deposited her on it. The desire in her eyes inflamed the fire in him.
Rogue squirmed under his gaze and felt the rush of heat between her thighs. His nostrils flared and she noticed for the first time the animalistic tendencies he normally kept caged coming to the surface.
"That's a nice outfit." Logan's voice was raspy, barely containing his need. "If you want it to stay that way, you best take it off."
He'd already shucked his boots and shirt, and was unbuckling his belt when his words sunk in. Quickly she shimmied out of her pants and was pulling her top off as he kneeled beside her, cock proudly jutting out from his body. Her stomach tightened in excitement, she knew this was going to be different from their last encounter.
With one smooth thrust, Logan entered her. She titled her head to the side with pleasure, baring her throat to him. He closed his eyes to her pale flesh, he was barely holding on as it was.
She readjusted her body beneath him, and he gave up all pretense of trying to remain in control. The fervor that was driving him left no room for softness. He retained enough presence of mind to not draw blood as he bit her shoulder when he came the first time.
Later Rogue got a small thrill from the bite and finger shaped bruises on her body. They'd been frenzied in their lovemaking, he'd been rough and she'd reciprocated with a wildness she didn't know she possessed.
She'd marked him as well; no one would ever know, but she knew every scratch and fingernail crescent she'd placed on him. There had even been an odd gratification as he hissed out a breath when she'd bitten his chest. He knew he'd been marked, too.
Her smile faded. What on earth was she doing? Her need for Logan, for his touch, his mere presence; was disturbing. A rogue did not develop sympathies.
The sounds of Logan rummaging through her fridge for leftovers greeted her when she opened the bathroom door. Rounding the corner; she saw him, still naked, piece of half-eaten fried chicken in his hand. He raised an eyebrow at her, even white teeth tearing another bite from the drumstick.
She could handle this situation without emotions being involved or her feeling the need to run. It would start with a nice leisurely afternoon of sex with Wolverine.
~*~
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Author's Chapter Notes:
RogueLotus sent me Bonnie Raitt's "I Can't Make You Love Me", and the rest is fate.