Five months. Five months she’d been sitting here in the Danger Room. Watching them. Watching Logan snarl and bite and push John until he nearly broke. Watching John burn and push and grow in response.
It was impressive. It was brutal. And it was hot.
Marie swallowed as she watched a salty droplet of sweat journey down John’s torso. His chest heaved with physical exertion; his breath huffed out in controlled pants. Her eyes lingered on the sharply-defined muscles in John’s forearm as he raised his hand to block Logan’s punch, then flicked to the power of Logan’s fist, pulled back in readiness for the next blow. She shifted, conscious of the effect that so much beauty and aggression was having on her. Her lips parted, pink tongue darting out to moisten them.
There was no love lost between the two men. In place of anything that could be considered friendship, was a mutual and grudging respect.
She wasn’t even completely sure that what she and John shared could be termed as friendly. Intense, passionate, convoluted - yes. But Marie knew any chance of building a real friendship would always be frustrated by his ever-present jealousy. Of what, though? Was he jealous of what she and Logan shared? Jealousy of her happiness with someone other than him? He would admit to nothing, but it was there, a dormant menace lying just beneath the surface. His smiles at the mansion’s inhabitants were little more than a sarcastic pretense, while he waited like a snake in the grass for the perfect moment to strike — to claim what he felt was rightfully his.
Being the object of such intensity should have frightened her, or at least made her feel uneasy. Sometimes it did, but more often, it served to fuel her own desire. Add to that the smoldering looks that both men were directing at her… the undisguised lust just added to her fantasies. Fuelled her determination to have them both.
When Logan had sought John’s forgiveness, the pyrokinetic had named his price. He wanted her. One last time, he had said. Fine. But it would be on her terms. In her bed. With her lover.
Her head fell back against the mirrored wall, her pupils dilating as her breath quickened. She may have been watching quietly, biding her time until she knew when the moment felt right, but all these months Logan had been able to smell her anticipation. Knew how giddy she was about the prospect. Saw right through the restlessness that everyone else had commented on. The corner of her mouth kicked up as she saw Logan’s nostrils flare. It worked as an aphrodisiac. Knowing the depraved thoughts that kept her constantly aroused. It was just another sign of her lack of inhibition, her animalistic desire equal to his.
She shifted again, one leg crossing over the other in an effort to keep her desire in check. She was fairly certain neither man would have any particular objections if she decided to slip her hand inside her jeans, but now was not the time. Not for that kind of self-gratification at any rate.
The two men had stopped sparring, John taking a sip from his water bottle as Logan stretched. Marie pushed herself off the floor, a seductive sway lacing her walk as she made her way over to them. Logan slid an arm around her waist, dipping his head to place a kiss behind her ear as she turned her head. She watched John’s skin flush with jealousy before he was able to force his expression back into its usual indifference.
Marie’s hand slipped up under Logan’s singlet, her fingers digging into the warm flesh. She crooked a finger at John in silent invitation. A test. Her way of seeing if he was ready. He raised an eyebrow, blue eyes narrowing as he glanced at Logan. He put his water bottle down approaching, and was careful to avoid Logan as much as possible, while inching as close to her as he could get. She reached out and grabbed the back of his neck to overcome his caution, pulling him in close for a kiss. Her tongue pushed past his lips for a taste, and suddenly, caution was no longer an issue. She felt his hunger — his greed — as he deepened the kiss, and in the end, she had to push him away. Marie was still licking her lips as she turned her head towards Logan.
He pounced, as she knew he would. Logan’s hand tangled in her hair, jerking her roughly as he pulled her mouth to his. She parted her lips for him, enjoying the way he was controlling the kiss. His tongue was demanding as it explored her depths, coaxing her own into action. And she responded, her fingernails scraping over his flesh. She bit his bottom lip as they broke apart, drawing blood. She wiped her thumb across it, licking at the crimson droplet as she held his gaze. The smile that curved Logan’s mouth was predatory, and his hold on her waist shifted as his fingers splayed across her stomach. She leaned back into him, her own smile smug as she looked at John. This was her night. And she was on the verge of purring about it. She may have been the little innocent when John had her, but now…
Had he really ever known her? Back then, she had been trying so hard to forget. Her past, everything she’d been exposed to, both firsthand and second. She had been living a lie. Using her skin as an excuse to keep the world at a distance lest anyone find out the truth. But once she’d stopped pretending, once she’d accepted who she was, she’d had no regrets.
She placed a hand over Logan’s, reveling in her true nature, and her freedom to explore it. There was no hesitation in her gaze when she looked straight at John and issued the invitation. Just brown eyes hinting at unspeakable pleasure. “Tonight. Our room.”
*
John Allerdyce ran a hand through his short brown hair, amusement playing across his features as he thought about the argument he’d had with Marie about bleaching it again. He was whipped all right. Whipped by a woman that was no longer his. But one that should be his — would be his, if only for tonight.
He ran his tongue over his lips, the lingering taste of Marie teasing him. She still tasted deceptively sweet. Intoxicating. Tantalizing.
That’s what she was now. What she’d always been. The sweetness had only ever been a deception, and it was all a part of the tease. She was so alluring in her false innocence, but John knew that most people only saw what she wanted them to. Her face conveyed innocence, and the timidity of her movements lent to the notion — but they never stopped to consider her eyes. They held the truth, and the truth was that she hadn’t been truly innocent for a very long time.
A phrase popped into his head, and he snorted. ‘Like a moth to the flame…’ Oddly appropriate, even if he was the moth.
He took a breath, his fingers closing around the door handle. He hadn’t knocked. Why should he? He was expected, and if Marie wasn’t ready… He smirked. So much the better. Of course, there was still the fact that Logan would be in there. But it was what she had wanted. Images floated through his mind. Snippets of what had happened in the cell. Of what she’d been like.
Who was he trying to kid? There was no way he was backing out just because her lover was going to be there. He might not have the Wolverine’s sense of smell, or any of those other heightened senses — but John still knew just how turned on she was at the mere idea of having both men. He could see it in her eyes, in the flush of her skin. In her body language.
Another breath, and he’d turned the handle. He paused in the doorway, surprise keeping him from crossing over the threshold. There had to be at least a hundred candles in the room. All lit. All serving to create a very sensual atmosphere. His gaze swept the room, habit and his mutation making him calculate just what could be accomplished by having that much fire at his disposal. His smirk disappeared, replaced by a knowing smile as he closed the door behind him. She might be doing this for her, but Marie still remembered what he liked.
He stepped deeper into the room, blue eyes fixing on the woman in question. Her red lips curved, the smile sinful and wicked, and all too captivating in its meaning. Her chocolate eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She was sitting sideways on a chair, her legs crossed at the knees, her body draped in a red silk robe.
John took a breath, a compliment poised on the tip of his tongue — but watching Marie through the flickering candlelight made coherent thought nearly impossible. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, letting out a low appreciative whistle. “Goddamn.”
Marie shook her head, her silky mane shimmering as she raised a finger to her lips. “Shh, don’t ruin it,” she whispered as she gracefully rose to her feet.
John swallowed, trying not to fixate on the black stilettos she wore. He opened his mouth again when she was closer, but all thoughts of speech disappeared the moment her painted lips molded against his.
Her body pressed up against him as her fingers gripped his hair. He moaned despite himself, his hands trying to touch all of her at once. Her tongue traced his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth enough for her to get a taste.
But it wasn’t enough. He knew it. She knew it. Her tongue pushed past his lips, demanding and aggressive as it swept over his. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, and even through his shirt he could feel the tightened peaks of her nipples.
A hand left his hair, her fingers trailing down his side. Her hand paused, gripping his hip as she continued to ravage his mouth. She let slip a quiet moan as his tongue started to respond to hers with equal fervor. Her hand moved again, slipping between their two bodies. He groaned as she pressed it against the seam of his jeans. The heel of her palm rubbed against him, teasing him through the denim. He felt his cock stir, her skilled movements causing his body to tighten.
She started to move, forcing him back towards the bed. He didn’t mind though: the sooner he could get his hands under that robe, the better. His calves hit the edge of the mattress, and she pushed him back onto it. He eased back, shifting himself further up the bed as she knelt forward and started to crawl up the length of his body. His cock leapt at the sight of her — tousled hair, smoldering eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and that fine porcelain skin. He raised a hand, intent on pulling her towards him, but she slapped it away.
She smirked. “Not yet, Johnny. Not until I say so.” She ran her hands up his arms, grabbing his wrists and pulling them up over his head.
One hand held his wrists in place as she kissed him again, the other hand reaching for the length of black silk draped around the headboard’s post. She pulled back, concentrating on the knot she tied as she fixed his hands in place.
“Marie…” Part question, part plea.
She smiled, wriggling back down the length of his body. He groaned as she reached the bulge in his jeans. She snapped open the fly, winking at him as he hissed in relief. She trailed her fingers along his aching erection, forcing his hips to give a responsive jerk. But she ignored his obvious need, gripping the denim as she pulled the jeans down his legs. She stopped to take off his shoes and socks, and then yanked off the jeans all together.
She held onto his right ankle, tying black silk around it and the bedpost. He raised an eyebrow in question, curiosity stopping him from fighting his position of vulnerability. Another wink was the only answer he got as she tied up the left.
He watched as she stepped back, allowing him a full body view. She smiled, her slender fingers toying with the ends of the sash keeping her robe in place. “You’ve been such good boy letting me tie you up, so how about a reward?” She pulled slowly on the sash. “You want to see what’s underneath, sugar?”
John nodded, not trusting his voice to stay level if he spoke. His blue eyes stayed glued on the sash, every nerve in his body tingling in anticipation. She gripped the edges of her robe, moving her shoulders as she let the red silk fall in a puddle around her heeled feet. John sucked in a breath, his erection damn near painful at the sight of Marie. She wore a black lace teddy and matching garters. The tight bodice constricted her lush curves, her impressive cleavage threatening to spill from the cups whenever she took a breath.
The flicker of candlelight and movement in the shadows to Marie’s left caught John’s attention. His eyes widened as he watched Logan take his place by Marie’s side. He hadn’t even seen the older mutant in the room. But the realization that he’d been there the whole time, watching, dawned on him. Logan’s eyes were on John as he ran his hands down Marie’s sides. She leaned back against him, raising her hand to grip his dark locks. Logan let out a low, rumbling growl as he nuzzled her hair. His right hand strayed from her side, sliding down her stomach. His fingers brushed against her sex, making her shiver.
Marie turned her head, her lips brushing against Logan’s. Logan’s hand trailed around to her ass, squeezing it gently as he picked up the nearest candle and handed it to her. She smiled up at him, kissing him again before moving back towards John.
Blue eyes followed Logan’s retreating form as he sat in the chair Marie had previously occupied, no longer hiding the fact he would be watching. Marie crawling back up his body distracted John, and as she straddled him, John raised his hips off the mattress in an effort to find some friction. She shook her head, moving so that she could place the candle on the bedside table. She shifted, just enough for her ass to rub against his throbbing erection. He groaned, clenching his fists.
“Marie.” A command. A direction.
Another shake of the head, her hands running over his covered chest. She bit her lip, her eyes reflecting her enjoyment. John frowned. She liked — no, loved — having him so vulnerable. He could feel the wetness soaking through her teddy, covering his abdomen. He pulled against his restraints, wanting to grab her hips and push her down on his cock. Lose himself in that heat, that slickness.
But she had other ideas. She tore open his shirt, pushing the material away from his chest. Her hands were once again running over his torso. Her fingers pulled at his nipples, pinching and teasing them. He sucked in a breath as her nails scraped over his abdomen. The candles in the room flared momentarily, and Marie smiled triumphantly. She really did remember what he liked. Only, before it usually included his being buried inside her and clothing between them.
She reached over to pick up the candle again, her breasts in his face. He tried to lift his head up enough to taste them, but he couldn’t. She laughed quietly, running a finger over the smooth white skin.
“You want to see them?”
He grunted, pulling at his restraints. “You know I do.”
She tilted her head, eyes flicking towards the candle. “Then you need to learn to behave, Johnny. You were being so good before, but now…” She gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders.
“I’ve put up with you teasing me for this long, isn’t that enough?”
“No,” she answered simply. She turned the candle to point towards his chest, letting a single drop of hot wax hit his skin.
John clenched his jaw, his muscles going rigid as he fought the momentary pain. Marie smiled, holding the candle with her left hand as she reached out with her right, taking a cube of ice from the bucket on the bedside table. John spared a second to acknowledge that she really had been thinking about this for some time, then the ice was on his skin where she’d dripped the wax on him, and he welcomed the instant relief. The cube melted in seconds, his burning skin reducing it to liquid.
She smiled down at him, the expression a seeming contradiction to the torture she was inflicting. “It’s okay, you can make noise. I want you to.”
Marie dripped hot wax on his chest, rubbing it across his torso as he swore through clenched teeth. Another ice cube was trailed over his skin, the flesh turning cold. He looked up at her, biting his lip.
She let another droplet of wax hit his chest. “Let go, baby. Give in.”
He groaned, pulling at his restraints as she soothed his skin with ice. The pain was starting to give him a sense of pleasure, and he sneered—disgusted with himself, and with Marie’s ability to bring out such a contradiction in him. He had expected his erection to soften with the lack of attention, but if anything—it was throbbing. And she knew it. She licked the corner of her mouth, rubbing against him just to let him know how wet she was.
A growl filled the room, and John looked past Marie to where Logan was sprawled in the chair, jeans undone, hand making long, slow excursions up and down his own cock. The hard-on was immense, and John felt a moment’s envy. But when Marie placed her lips next to his ear, her words electrified him.
“You know, that hard-on’s not just for me, John. Logan’s a very... complex ... man. He likes to dominate, and he loves to fuck. Right now, he wants to fuck you.” She plunged her tongue in his ear in crude punctuation, and then raised her voice. “Enjoying the show, sugar?”
“Fuck, yeah,” came the gravelly rejoinder. And the lust in his voice was undeniable.
Marie tilted the wax over his body again, and this time, he didn’t even attempt to hold back the cry.
“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She placed a tender kiss on his jaw, her erect nipples pressing against his chest through the lace of her teddy. She gave the tiniest moan of pleasure, before straightening up again.
His chest heaved, his breath coming out in pants. “Let me see them.”
Marie raised an eyebrow, her index finger caught between her teeth as she appeared to think about his request. “No, I don’t think so. You didn’t ask very nicely, John. But you did very well with the wax, so you do deserve something.”
He bared his teeth, fury gathering in his brow. “Marie.”
She gave him that smile again — innocent, and warm, and everything she wasn’t being. She put down the candle, raising herself on her knees as she moved up his body. Her sex was right above him, just out of reach. She steadied herself with her left hand, gripping the headboard as she trailed her right hand down her body, circling her nipple before sliding down her stomach. He watched as she slipped a finger past the g-string, stroking her clit.
He raised his head up, trying to get to her. Christ, he wanted to lick her so bad it hurt. She was right above him, glistening, pulsing, enticing. “Marie, please…”
She dipped down slightly, but still out of reach as her finger slipped deeper inside her slick folds. “Beg me, John.”
Her finger pumped in and out, her thumb circling her clit. She moaned loudly, and John fought his restraints. “Marie, for fuck’s sake.”
She paused. “That’s not begging, Johnny. I wanna know how much you want me. How much you want a taste.”
He struggled against his restraints. “Marie, come on. You know how much I want you. I’ve stayed at the mansion for you. I’m strapped to the bed with no fucking pants and very fucking hard with him watching for you. And if you don’t sit on my face and let me eat you right now, there’s a room full of candles at my disposal.” He emphasized his point by focusing on each candle, making them flicker and the flames increase in size.
Marie’s fingers slipped out of her teddy, and she lowered them to his mouth. He licked at the proffered digits, groaning as he tasted her juices. She was so fucking sweet. “Marie…”
She took away her fingers, sliding them back inside her. Her movements were more urgent, two fingers pumping deep inside as she rubbed her clit with her thumb. She moaned loudly, John’s pleas spurring her on. He watched, jealous of her fingers and the need for more — her taste, her touch — making him crazy with want. A shudder went through her body, and he groaned loudly, straining to get his mouth to her.
“Beg me again, Johnny,” she whispered.
He stopped his struggle, focusing on her fingers. Imagining them to be his dick sliding in, and out. In, and out. He groaned loudly, fairly certain he was close to coming with no help whatsoever. “Please, Marie. I want to taste you, I wanna fuck you. Hard, slow, I don’t care. I just want to be deep inside you when you come. I wanna be why you come.”
Her body shook, the orgasm building up deep inside her. “So close…”
John smirked. He was finally understanding her little game. “If you won’t let me be inside you, then just come on me. Please, Marie.” He licked his lips in anticipation, watching as her body shuddered with force. Her cry filled his ears, and moisture slid down her fingers, a single drop falling onto his lips.
“Marie.” A growl, a command.
She turned to acknowledge Logan, looking at him from under dark lashes. “I’m sorry, sugar. I got carried away.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “C’mere, darlin’.”
She slid off the bed, making her way over to him on shaky legs. She grinned as his gaze lingered on her curves, pulling him out of the chair. She glanced at John. “I want him to see everything.” She pushed Logan, turning him sideways as she made sure John had a clear view. She dropped to her knees before Logan, his hard length directly in front of her. He placed a hand on the back of her head, his fingers knotting in her hair as she licked along his cock from tip to base.
John watched from the bed as she flicked the tip of her tongue over Logan’s dick, swollen lips parting to take him in. The site of Logan bucking into Marie’s mouth transfixed him. His own cock throbbing, with the need to do the same nearly overwhelming him. Desires from the past surfacing as it finally clicked into place that Marie was capable of giving him everything he had ever wanted.
Logan’s growling punctuated each thrust, the other mutant looking down at Marie with dark eyes. John bit into his bottom lip, not wanting to let slip the moan building deep inside his chest. Just like in the cell, watching the two enjoy the violence of their activities — Logan’s voracity when it came to dominating Marie — was pushing John to his limits. He had barely admitted the truth to himself whilst in the cell, let alone outside it. And now, here in their bedroom months later… he released the hold on his lip, groaning loudly.
Logan came, Marie’s name tearing from his lips in a roar as liquid heat rushed into her mouth. She swallowed it, pulling back until Logan’s cock slipped out of her mouth with a pop. She looked up at him, utter devotion in her chocolate eyes as he stroked her cheek. Marie turned her head, nuzzling into Logan’s palm. John closed his eyes against the display of tenderness, trying to stem the envy it provoked.
Warmth enveloped him, and the feeling of fabric on his torso made him open his eyes again. Marie smiled, her tongue skating over her top lip. She lowered her head, teasing him before her mouth captured his. John could taste Logan on her lips, tangy and bittersweet. She pulled back, breaking the kiss before he could get his tongue past her lips.
“He tastes amazing, like pears soaked in bourbon — wouldn’t you agree?”
John nodded, his eyes on her lips. He still wanted another taste. “Marie, please…”
She hushed him, holding a finger to her lips. “I always wondered what you would taste like. If your cum would be cinnamon flavored, like your mouth.” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s time to find out.”
He shifted, or tried to — wanting to urge Marie on, get a hand to her. She shook her head, reaching for a length of black silk. She tied it around his head, covering his eyes and sending him into darkness. He pulled at his restraints, his demands to know what she was playing at answered by the downward scrape of her nails against his flesh. He sucked in a breath, his body beginning to pulse with need when her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock before she took him in.
John lifted his hips from the bed, forcing more of himself in her mouth. It was so hot, wet … he thrust up again, groaning as her tongue swirled around him. It was sheer relief to have friction, something other than air to ease the throbbing. His hips bucked, and he groaned again. It hurt so good, and he wondered whether he was going to last long enough to truly appreciate this in the morning.
Her nails dug into his thighs, trying to stave off his orgasm. “I want you to enjoy this, Johnny,” she whispered. She licked his length, one hand moving to massage his balls.
He gritted his teeth, wanting the moment to last. “Fuck, Marie.” She had taken him into her mouth again, and he took a gasping breath. “Baby, let me see you. I want to see you. Please.” He knew he should hate the pathetic way he was begging, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. The things she was doing to him with her tongue had him teetering dangerously close to insanity.
John blinked rapidly as the blindfold was removed, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the fact that Logan had removed the material. The man was hard again, and John found himself torn between keeping an eye on where Logan’s dick was pointed — and the sight of Marie’s lips wrapped around his own cock.
Logan untied the knot keeping John’s hands bound. John didn’t bother thanking him, immediately grabbing a fistful of Marie’s hair. She pulled back, moving so she was straddling him once again. She lifted up, holding still as Logan extended a claw and sliced through the side of the teddy, and g-string. The bustier fell away from her skin, and Marie threw it out of the way.
John’s gaze traveled the length of her body. He tugged at the garter on her left thigh, a smirk gracing his lips. “Fuck yeah.”
Logan ran an appreciative hand over Marie’s creamy skin, and she smiled at him as she sank down onto John’s erection. She gasped in pleasure, her back arching as she thrust her chest forward. Logan circled behind her, climbing onto the bed so that he was positioned between John’s open legs and right behind Marie. He slid two fingers between her thighs, barely touching John as he took advantage of her arousal to moisten the digits.
Marie leaned forward, her hungry body swallowing even more of John’s length as Logan’s fingers circled her anus, stretching the tight hole to accommodate him. When she began to buck backwards, he slid inside her with a growl that John had never heard before. Marie obviously had, though, and she sure as hell wasn’t scared: her breath came out in a hiss, eyes closing in bliss at the double penetration. John gripped Marie’s thighs as she writhed between them, and tried not to think too much about what was happening. That sharpening spiral of pleasure as Marie’s body grew tighter and tighter was … unexpected. And he couldn’t deny the sensation of his dick hitting Logan’s was exciting. And erotic. His mind rebelled a little at the thought, but his body didn’t seem to care so much. It was too busy feeling.
Logan swept Marie’s hair out of the way, his tongue and teeth marking her shoulder as his fingers teased her nipples. She moaned loudly, leaning against Logan as she rocked her hips back and forth. John thrust upwards, making Marie cry out with the exquisite surge of pleasure-pain. He wanted to cum so deep inside her that she’d be able to taste him. He wanted to hear her call out his name over and over again while she rode out the waves of agony and ecstasy.
The room filled with the sound of body moving against body, growls and moans punctuating the slide of sweat-slicked flesh. Marie’s eyes were hooded as she held John’s gaze; her red lips swollen and parted as she gasped, moaned, and cried out — begging him not to stop. To go deeper. Logan, too, was subject to her direction. Harder, she begged, faster.
John’s muscles were straining with the effort required to hold back his orgasm. The foreplay — the torture — had already placed him on edge, but this … of all the fantasies he’d had surrounding Marie, he’d never dreamt a reality this good, this intense. And never, ever had it involved Logan.
John felt Logan as the other man came, and watched as the Wolverine sunk his teeth into Marie’s shoulder. The pulsing pushed Marie over the edge, and she moaned out John’s name as her fingernails dug into his torso. John thrust upwards one last time, coming with a load groan that resembled Marie’s name.
She grinned, panting as Logan’s arm slipped around her waist to keep her upright as he withdrew. John pulled himself into a sitting position. He could still feel Marie clenching around him from the aftershocks. He grabbed her hair, his mouth crashing against hers. The kiss lacked finesse—all teeth and tongue, but that only encouraged her to return the sentiment.
Logan climbed off the bed, taking off the lengths of black silk around John’s ankles. Marie giggled as John’s relief at not being bound anymore was clearly reflected on his face. Logan’s hand caressed her ankle, moving up the back of her calf before he removed her stiletto. He took off the other, bending down to place a kiss on her back. She stroked John’s cheek, moving so that she was lying next to him. At a look from Marie, Logan shucked his jeans, and got back into the bed. She sighed as he nuzzled into her hair, and rolled onto her side. She looked at John, placing her hand on his chest so that her palm was flat against his heart. He watched as contentment settled over her features, replacing the lust that had been there moments before. She kissed his skin, a simple kiss between two people that have an understanding. It spoke of fondness, but not love.
*
Marie smiled up at Logan as he adjusted the collar of her coat. He smoothed it down before holding her shoulders, and placing a kiss on her forehead. “Ready, darlin’?”
She nodded. “Ready.”
John cleared his throat, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorway to Logan and Marie’s room. “You guys are packed?”
Marie turned, making her way over to him. “Yeah. How about you?”
He shrugged, giving her a crooked smile. “I’m sticking around for a bit. Figured this was as good a place as any to try and make a clean start.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Really?”
He nodded. “Sure. There really isn’t anything outside these walls worth leaving for… Not anything that’s mine, anyway.”
She stepped in closer to him, her lips pressing against the corner of his mouth in a tender kiss. “Goodbye, John.” She pulled back, a smile tugging at her mouth. “It’s vodka, by the way. Apple cinnamon vodka. Warm, spicy, and then pure flame going down..”
She started to walk away but John grabbed her wrist. He glanced in Logan’s direction briefly before his blue eyes focused on Marie. “Don’t forget about me now, just ‘cause you got what you wanted.” He smirked. “You know where to find me though, if…” He shrugged, letting her fill in the blank.
Logan snorted, coming up behind Marie. “This ain’t a joke, Matchstick. You gotta learn the rules if you wanna play.”
John’s smirk increased as he looked at the older man. “You’re lecturing me about rules? I think I’ve more than proven myself capable of playing your game. Last night, and before.”
“Maybe the two of you should just fuck already, and get it over with. The tension is enough to drive a girl mad,” Marie interjected. Both men fell silent and she gave a curt nod. “Now that the pissing contest is finished, we really should get going.”
John tugged on her wrist, pulling her against him. He held her still, his mouth capturing hers. His tongue pushed past her lips, looking for more than a quick taste. He pulled back, his expression heated. “I mean it, this isn’t over.”
Marie swallowed, waiting for Logan to say something. But he didn’t. He stayed very quiet as he moved past her. “It never was,” she whispered. She pulled away from John, grabbing her bag before following Logan. She turned, looking back at John from over her shoulder. “Be seeing you, Johnny.”
He watched her sashay down the corridor, pulling his lighter out from his pocket. He flicked it open and closed, raising his eyebrow as he watched the elevator doors close on the couple. He looked down at his open lighter, watching the flame for a second before his gaze went back to the elevator. The lighter snapped shut, the sound bouncing off the walls.
He smirked. “Maybe even sooner than you think, Roguey.”
--- End ---
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Jaq and Jenn for beta. Thanks also to everyone who has taken the time to read this fic.