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“Open yer eyes, chere.” Anna exhaled a shaky breath as Remy lifted away his hands from her eyes.


~0~

The living room offered no obstacles impeding her trip to his little “surprise,” thanks to surreptitious cleaning and rearranging following their call. His kiss at the door was gentle and lingering, still warming her lips as he pulled her back, stopping her from heading to the kitchen.

“Got somethin’ I wantcha t’see, baby doll,” he drawled, mischief and affection shining in his beautiful dark eyes. Before she even formed the question, he clamped his palms over her eyes, and she felt the press of his firm chest at her back. “No peekin’, now.”

“Hey!” she yelped indignantly. He grinned as he guided her, stumbling, where he wanted her to go.

Anna heard the creak of the door, and different, sweet aromas tickled her nostrils. The anticipation was killing her.

~0~


“Oh…mah Gawd, Rem. Look at whatcha did,” she gasped.

Remy’s bedroom was glowing with candles. Fat pillars, votives and tapers flanked the side tables and bureau in varying shades of green, peach and cream. She recognized two fragrances in particular, bamboo and sugar cane, as scents she had mentioned she loved when they’d perused a bath shop at the galleria.

Every pile of sheet music was packed away, and his cherished guitar hung from pegs on the wall. Nothing interfered with the new bedding or the arrangements of flowers around the room. A bottle green brocade comforter and matching pillowcases trimmed in black satin ribbon dressed Remy’s queen-sized bed. Smaller, elegant pillows in pleated shams added to the charm. An Oriental rug in the same shades as the candles covered his hardwood floor, and green tab-top panels over cream blinds streamed down the windows.

“D’ya like it, chere?” His voice was low and thick, a sultry husk by the crest of her ear. “I’ll change it if ya don’t. Wantcha t’be comfy here, and t’feel welcome.” His hands crept down to her waist, slowly caressing her flat belly before following them with his arms. His embrace was addictive and felt right.

“Remy, it’s beautiful. Ah love it. All of it. This was sweet.” She leaned her head back against his shoulder and peered up into his eyes, feeling a flush of pleasure as he nibbled her cheekbone. “What made ya do all this?”

“It’s been on m’mind fuh a while, sweet pea,” he murmured. “I wanted t’surprise ya with somethin’ nice. I’ll admit it, gal, y’surprised ol’ Remy. Askin’ me when we’d go the next step, so t’speak. Tickled me pink when y’tol’ me ‘bout borrowin’ something’ slinky from Ororo t’warm me up. Truth is, chere, yer so damned sweet, an’ so beautiful, that I’m havin’ a hard time turnin’ myself off when I’m with ya. Been thinkin’ boutcha a lot. Nobody else makes me feel like you do, chere. Y’build me up and y’make me look at the big picture. Y’make me dream bigger and make plans instead of occasional ideas that never amount t’much. Y’believe in Remy. Man can’t resist that in a woman.” He was driving reason from her with his lips, nuzzling her neck until he found her sweet spot. Her breath exploded from her in a shuddering gasp, and he felt a wave of masculine satisfaction as she arched against him.

“Careful, chere, I haven’t gotten t’the best part yet,” he chuckled, reluctantly releasing her. He urged her to sit, and she sank down to the mattres, her lips still slack from the pleasure of his touch.

“Ah’m startin’ ta like that about ya, shoog. Ya keep on bringin’ on these surprises, just when Ah think Ah have ya figured out.”

“Hope yer hungry, baby doll.” The side table held a small tray, covered by a linen cloth. He whisked it away with a flourish. A crystal-cut glass bowl of thick whipped cream and a dish of chocolate-dipped strawberries evoked a stunned giggle from Anna.

“Oh, Remy…yer a wicked, wicked man,” she scolded. Desire burned in her eyes as he sat beside her, closing the gap between them as he snaked his arm around her waist.

“Gotta get m’own back, baby doll. Got me pretty good with that body shot favor at that little hen party.” His nose bumped hers teasingly. “That cream was cold!” he nagged.

“Awwww…” She traced his jaw with her fingertip, stroking his lower lip before leaning over to suck it into her mouth. Heat surged through them both as she had her way with him, tangling her fingers in his shirt. He regained control, breaking away and gently prying himself from her grip. He was breathing hard, she noticed.

“Take a load off, chere!” He eased off the bed and knelt at her feet, and she giggled when he unfastened her sandals, tugging them off. “I’ve waited a long time f’r this, petit. Ya’ve already seen ol’ Remy without his clothes.” He tickled her foot, and she suppressed a squeal that became a frenzied plea for him to stop. His touch became a caress, and he traced a path along the slope of her calf, feathering and teasing the sensitive hollow hehind her knee. His touch felt exquisite through the fine mesh of her silk stockings, traling fire in his wake. She clasped his cheeks between her hot palms and stole another languorous kiss full of longing. She didn’t want to stop; he didn’t want her to stop. He backed away, his eyes dark with need, and reached for the remote on the bureau. Anna heard the faint chirp of the power feeding the amplifiers, and watched the orange glow of the treble and bass bars ripple up and down on the tiny display. The opening chords to “Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing” by Chris Isaak pulled at her, and Remy eyed her, sin written across his features as he folded his arms expectantly.

“Dance fuh me, chere.”

“Ah ain’t got any fancy costumes.”

“Don’t need ‘em. All they’re good for is strippin’ ‘em off, anyhow. G’wan, baby doll.”

“All right.” She rose from the bed. “But maybe you should sit back, shoog.” She led him back to the bed and gave him a gentle shove. Slowly, she moved to the music, tempting him. Every muscle rippled and undulated like a snake’s, and he watched her, rapt as she reached up to undo one of the tiny white buttons on her blouse. She danced, allowing her palms to skim her curves and planes, her eyes promising that it was his turn next.

She swiveled and turned her back to him, treating him to the sway of her hips as she dropped and gyrated her way back up.

“Damn, baby,” he muttered, feeling the early threatening signs of drool. She peeked back over her shoulder with her best sloe-eyed look, thinking it failed when he merely grinned back.

She got him back as her skirt hit the floor in a swish of denim.

“Baby did a bad, bad thing,” he murmured wryly. Her creamy, fair skin was smooth and gleamed beneath the glow of the candles.

“You know it, sugah,” she assured him. She isolated each muscle, letting the wave flow through the arch of her chest, down through her narrow ribs, down into her abdomen and finally, into those round, sweet glutes. As she turned to face him again, her blouse began to work its way open, and the last button was hanging on by a thread. Faint shadows cast by the flaps of her blouse obscured his view of her tiny bikinis, but the emerald satin of her bra winked out at him, molded sumptuously against breasts both generous and, Remy knew, perfect.

“Bring it home t’Daddy, baby doll,” he beckoned, and she sashayed over on catlike feet, trailing her fingers down his chest before pivoting and sinking down onto his lap. Her silky hair tickled his lips, and she heard his smothered, breathless curse as she began to move, thowing out his assumption that it couldn’t get any better. She swayed, letting her slender, tapered thighs splay slightly, enticingly, as she stroked his ankle nimbly with the tops of her toes.

“Ya can’t touch me,” she purred, “but Ah kin touch you, Daddy.” She jutted back against him, teasing him and reaching back, barely letting her lips whisper against his as the back of her finger skimmed his cheek.

“Anna,” he grated hoarsely. She leaned back against him with her whole body this time, flinging her hair back in a wild tumble over his shoulder as she rode him, letting the rough denim of his jeans rasp against her skin. Tension and heat flooded her core, and she felt him grow hard again beneath her, more intensely than he had that night at Ororo’s townhouse. She felt him drop his head over her shoulder, craving the sight her body. Her blouse was gaping open now, but her hands shielded her treasures from him. His lips barely grazed her shoulder, but Anna’s skin had grown highly sensitized beneath his hot gaze, with him being so close, hearing his sultry voice.

She surprised him by sliding off his lap onto the floor.

“What’re y’up to, sweet pea?” The music plucked at them both, swirling in their veins like a slow drink of whiskey.

“Lemme show ya, shoog,” she offered, swiveling to face him and arching back to allow her blouse to slide down her arms to the floor. Remy felt the clench in his gut at the sight she made.

“Y’make me ache, baby doll,” he groaned. “S’a crime, t’be as hot as y’look right now.”

Anna, unbeknownst to all save her girlfriends who’d kept her naughtiest secrets, had gone through a “flighty phase.” She’d changed majors three times, left a trail of unfinished internships in her wake, and had taken more electives than you could shake a stick at. Introduction to Middle Eastern Dance 3A, Winter Session, had been her favorite. She slowly leaned back, kneeling impossibly low, knees spread, and Remy exhaled a sharp breath as her buttocks touched the floor. She supported herself on her elbows, and he felt his jaw drop into his lap as she rotated her hips in a flawless series of figure eights. Each muscle executed the movement with precision and grace, catching the glow of the firelight, which seemed to love her. Her hair was a gleaming corona of tousled auburn waves, and her eyes sang him a siren song that he couldn’t resist for another second.

Anna Marie shivered at the look of stark, unbridled need in his eyes as he leaned down and grasped her hands, hoisting her to her feet in one impatient tug. “Remy!” she breathed, right before his mouth claimed her. She was flush against his body, every taut muscle fitted to her hollows.

“Y’owe me a body shot,” he growled around her lips. His left her weaker in the knees than her last move, and he scooped her into his arms, hooking her legs around his waist. He carried her to the other side of the bed and he plunked them down roughly; Anna just missed biting her tongue with the impact, and Remy soothed her with another kiss that was liquid and hot.

Remy plunged his two fingers into the bowl of cream, scooping out a dollop and giving Anna a wolfish smile.

“Need any help, shoog?”

“Naw. Think I kin manage just fine, petit,” he drawled, echoing her words from their first encounter. He tasted the cream, lipping up a dab and smack them. “Hmm. That might taste nice wi’ a lil’ o’ this,” he suggested, fingerpainting the column of her throat after sweeping her hair aside. His tongue rasped against her, laving her flesh clean, and her body shuddered. “Don’t think I got it all, baby doll.” His fingers painted her shoulder, and he lapped away the cream, leaving a glistening sheen. His tongue continued to swirl against it, and she ground against him wantonly, moaning his name as the song changed to a slower balled by LeAnne Rimes that Anna loved. “Have a taste, Anna.” She read the intent on his face and followed his silent demand, engulfing his fingers in the heat of her mouth. She suckled him, taking her sweet time and darting the tip of her tongue into the webbing between them to ensure she got it all.

He thanked her by promptly loading his fingers up again and smearing a dollop over the valley of her breasts. Her fingers tunneled through his hair as he consumed her, and a ragged moan escaped her lips.

“If ya care about me, even a little…Gawd, Remy, Ah can’t take it any more!”

“Aw, I think y’can,” he insisted. “Might make it easier if ya lie back.” He rolled her onto her back and she sprawled limply before him. He selected a strawberry from the bowl, coated in dark chocolate, and dipped it into the cream. He proceeded to use it as a paintbrush, daubing mounds of it into a familiar design. Mounds of whipped cream topped each of her breasts. A small dollop crowned her navel, and a sloppy smile grinned up from her belly. He set aside the fruit and helped himself. She writhed as she felt him suckle her through the satin cups, the contrast of the cool cream and his hot mouth enflaming her. His tongue darted into her navel, retrieving a choked giggle as he literally “wiped the smile” from her body, but was speechless as he tugged her panties off with his teeth.

“Remy,” she cried softly. “Want ya so bad.” His hands reverently cupped her breasts, testing their fullness before he pried open the tiny clasp.

“Like I want you, baby doll?” he whispered, before gripping the hem of his shirt one-handed and yanking it over his head. She watched him with unquenched hunger as he jerked open the fly of his jeans and shimmied out of them, dragging off his boxers with them. He was statuesque, rippling and gloriously naked, his manhood already tumescent and engorged, nestled in a thatch of dark curls. She felt the mattress dip as he crawled his way up her body like a jungle cat, where their lips finally met. Every inch of Anna’s body fell under Remy’s tender scrutiny, leaving nothing unexplored, nor untasted. She was wild for him, and she gave a shout of triumph when he thrust into her, stretching and filling her. Remy’s face was wreathed in rapture, his eyes closing with the slick, snug grip she had on him, like she was made for him. They moved together, setting a pace that allowed them to measure the effects of each touch, of even the most minute flick of the hips.

“Y’feel so damned good, Anna!” He strained against her, swept off on a tide of yearning to possess her, to take them both higher as he thrust faster, harder.

“OhmahGAWDohmahGAWD…” she chanted. He heard his own name amidst her prayers for release, and his grip on her hips tightened as he loved her. He wanted more. He wanted her to lose control and topple over the edge with him, and he reared back, never leaving her depths as he jerked her legs over his shoulders, letting her heels rest against his back, where they bounced each time he pistoned his hips. Delicious friction built up within him, and he shared it, spiraling his thumb over her swollen pearl and coating it with her own juices. “Don’t stop,” she cried, letting her eyes drift shut in pleasure as his hands swept over her skin, skimming over her breasts, her abdomen, combing through the curls covering her mound and creating more friction, for her this time.

“Holy - !” He was so close, and she was how he’d always imagined her, beautiful in her yearning, pleading with him to end his torment, however sweet. She reached for his hand and slid it over her clitoris, until his fingers stroked her in the same rhythm as hers. She arched and moaned beneath him, her face flushed and strained. And that was all he needed.

Remy bucked and spasmed as pleasure claimed him, draining him within her quivering depths. His fingers clutched her thighs, squeezing them as he roared triumphantly over the music. Anna bit her lip against the shocks and tremors in her womb until Remy pleaded with her, “Come fer me, Anna.” He dipped his fingers into the juices coating them where they were joined before anointing her pearl one last time, and she shattered, letting her legs fall slack, sliding them off his shoulders. He in turn collapsed into her embrace, listening to her breathing calm to a slower, sleepier rhythm.

“Now this is what I don’t get,” Remy huffed. “If I’m the one who strips fuh a living…how is it my girlfriend’s freakier than I am ‘tween the sheets?” Anna pinched him.

“That’s just what this lil’ ol’ country gal wants ta hear,” she carped, but she stroked him thoughtfully, enjoying the furtive press of his lips along her collarbone. “Ah ain’t a freak.”

“The hell ya ain’t!” he raised up and supported himself on his elbows, cupping her face like she was very precious to him. “Naw, y’ain’t. Ya just know how t’drive this Cajun crazy." He reached for the strawberry again and dangled it by its stem, and she bit into it with enthusiasm. “That move ya did on the floor’s gotta be illegal in about ten different states, chere, ya know that, right?”

“Eleven, if ya count New Mexico,” she joked. He bit into the fruit, consuming her teethmarks before retrieving the bowl. They crawled beneath the covers and fed one another the treats until Anna grew drowsy, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She was practically plastered to him, and she enjoyed their lazy sprawl to the fullest.

“Ya still gonna call me in the morning, bub?”

“Naw,” he admitted. She emitted a disgusted tsk, scowling up at him until he feathered teasing strokes along her arm, enjoying how right she felt. “Ain’t gonna have a chance. Gonna steal ya away. Everyone else’ll hafta call you, cuz y’gonna be with Remy 24-7. And I plan on puttin’ m’phone on forward, even if they do call.” His voice sounded smug.

“Pretty sure of yaself, ain’t ya?”

“I’m sure of you,” he rumbled, and Anna’s eyes misted over. “Everything about ya, Anna.”

“Ya ain’t just makin’ some pretty pillow talk, are ya, Remy?”

“I decided I was in love with ya that day in the mall, petit. Either that, or I came down with somethin’ that wouldn’t let me think straight unless it was about you. Kept hearin’ yer voice in m’head, and I couldn’t focus on a damned thing.” Anna was awake again now, staring at him incredulously and swallowing around a lump. “Wanted t’be sure ya felt the same, chere,” he murmured.

“Gawd,” she whispered. She cradled his jaw in her hand and gazed down into his face, awed at the love and admiration she found there. “And here Ah was feelin’ scared as all get-out, thinking ya might be turned off if Ah felt that way about ya. Ah didn’t think it’d be like this, but Ah ain’t fightin’ it, Remy. Ah love you, too. Don’t move,” she ordered briskly, throwing back the covers and letting herself out of the bed.

“What’re y’doin’, chere?”

“Unplugging the damned phone.”


~0~

The next afternoon:

The lights in the jewelry store were warm and relatively dim, Logan figured, to better let the gemstones in their tidy glass cases catch the customer’s eye. The saleswoman had been stalking him, pacing behind each counter and telepathically scanning his wallet since he walked in. So far, she seemed less than impressed, and had cleared her throat loudly when he made the mistake of leaning against the glass case to get a better look at the selection of blue topaz. He’d been about ready to walk out, until a barrel-chested salesman in a striped necktie and knife-pleated slacks stopped him mid-step, his voice deep and solicitous.

“Sir, have you been helped?”

“Not so much,” Logan mused. He peeked at his watch. He had forty minutes til he had to get to back to work, and his lunch wasn’t long enough to peruse the other two jewelry stores’ offerings.

“Did you have anything in particular that you were shopping for?”

“I’m lookin’ fer something nice in a lady’s engagement ring,” he rumbled. “Something ya don’t see every day.” The salesman’s face lit up, and dollar signs danced in his eyes. He clapped his hands for emphasis.

“Just what I like to hear. This way!” He waved him toward the back of the store, where Snooty Britches looked absolutely sick that she just missed a possible commission. He led him to a narrow case and used a key hooked onto a coiled wire lanyard around his wrist to open it from the back. He reached for a small, velvet display pedestal and set it atop the counter. “These just came in last week. They weren’t in our usual circular,” he added. Logan’s fingers immediately crept to the first one that caught his eye. “That’s very elegant. Very eye-catching, isn’t it? That would make an excellent choice,” he beamed.

“This is the one,” he announced.

“You don’t want to take a look at any of the-“

“Nope. Wrap it up, bub. I’ve made up my mind. It wasn’t hard,” he smirked. “I know the ring that I wanna see on the hand of the woman I love fer the next fifty years, and this is it.”

“How would you like to pay for this? We have in-store credit options, or you can pay it off over three months-“

“Ain’t no need. Could ya put a pretty bow on it, while you’re at it, bub?” Logan reached into his pocket for his wallet and peeled off several hundreds from a thick wad. The salesman’s eyes bulged slightly before he muttered something about writing up a sales slip and an in-store warranty for free cleanings and insurance. Logan continued to hold the ring, admiring it under the light, turning it this way and that while the other rings were replaced in the case and his purchase was rung up. He barely heard the spiel about the quality and satisfaction guarantee, and shook his head when he was asked if he needed anything else.

“Just an angel sitting on my shoulder. I’m takin’ my girl out ta dinner.”

“Best of luck and God bless,” the salesman grinned, clapping Logan on the shoulder before he made his way out into the mall corridor. He rolled the small, blue bag up around the ringbox and tucked it into his pocket, zipping it shut. He almost had enough time to take it back to his apartment for safekeeping if he didn’t hit any red lights. Briefly he regretted that Remy hadn’t answered his phone when he called; it would’ve been nice to have someone to boast to about the leap he was about to take, and Remy would have been the ideal audience and cheering section. He could have hit the gym and shown Vic, but he could hear the “dude, yer such a flamin’ pussy; yer whipped, man!” speech ringing in his ears already. And Piotr was stuck in meetings all day, or he would have had a partner in crime to help him pick one out, but at least his choice was easy.

Ororo had been busy enough as it was. More checkups, more visits with her nutritionist and internist, and more clients wanting redesigns of their site pages were keeping her hopping and had her spending more time at the office. Logan had teased her that now that he was working days, he saw even less of her than he had while he worked the night shift.

“Back to the grind,” she shrugged, leaning down and kissing the tip of his nose playfully and twining her arms around his neck. “Still beats only really seeing you at the crack of dawn.”

“Hey, don’t knock crack of dawn nookie,” he complained, nuzzling her neck and drinking in the faint scent of her cologne and shampoo. “Speaking of which, don’t cook anything tonight, darlin’; I’m taking us out ta dinner. Wear something nice.”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise. Be ready by six.” He took one more kiss from the road and gave her tush a fond squeeze before he was off. She sighed and shook her head, wondering what the man was up to…

She pondered that all day during meetings with the steering committee and her manager and while she answered her email. Every now and again, she considered her wardrobe at home, mentally discarding each outfit one by one. She decided she needed a quick trip to the mall before she came home.

The house was empty when she got back, with a note from Logan saying he was going to be running late, and that Piotr was helping him with an errand. His voice mail was silly, to her delight, when she hit the message button.

“I know ya ain’t ready yet, so don’t worry, darlin’. Wear something nice, but be warned, babe, it’s just gonna end up looking pretty lying in a puddle in the corner when we get back tonight! Love ya. Bye.” She grinned and hugged herself, taking her shopping bag upstairs so she could start her shower.

Logan showed up at six-forty, just as Ororo was putting the finishing touches on her lipstick. She greeted him at the door, and he looked suitably awestruck, not to mention delicious in his dress shirt and slacks, topped off with a trench coat he’d never worn before.

Logan was still riding on the heady rush of what he had planned for that night, and the sinful promise in Ororo’s smile excited him, making him tingle.

“Ya really mean it when ya get dressed fer dinner, darlin’,” he marveled. Tonight she wore a stunning white wrap dress with three-quarter length sleeves and a neckline that plunged, creating the perfect backdrop for the dainty crystal pendant nestled just below her collarbones. Her hair was swept back from her face with a mother-of-pearl barrette he’d only seen her wear once, and strappy high heels shod her slender feet.

“You like?” she purred.

“Mmmmh…” It was so tempting to abandon dinner and kick the door shut behind him. He contented himself with steaming the column of her throat with his lips. “I like.” He let her go, twining their fingers together and leading her outside, where she had her second surprise of the night.

“There was a midnight blue Toyota Camry that looked like it came straight from the dealership lot parked outside. Logan’s bike was nowhere in sight.

“Logan…where’s Lulubelle?”

“She left me; took up with a young guy in college who professes his undyin’ love fer her. She always was fickle that way.” He led her to the passenger door, clicking open the locks with his keyring. “I cleaned him out of about five years of allowance and lunch money, and put a down payment on Betsy, here.”

“So I still have to compete for your affections?”

“Not on yer life. But don’t hurt her feelings, she’s sensitive.” She continued to stare agape at the dash and the plush interior, inhaling the new-car smell.

“She’s beautiful.”

“You look good in her. Let’s crank this baby up and see what she’ll do.”

“What made you do this?”

“I was sick of not bein’ able ta just take ya where we needed ta go and puttin’ all those miles on yer ride, darlin’.” He paused in keying the ignition to run the backs of his knuckles down her cheek fondly. “Thought it was time for a change.”

Logan cruised downtown through relatively light evening traffic and parked the car on the street, helping Ororo out of the car before he fed the meter. Ororo’s smile lit up her face when she saw that the restaurant was a bistro that she had promised herself she would try, when she got around to it.

“It’s nice.”

“Let’s see if the food measures up ta the window dressing,” he suggested, threading her arm through his as they entered the opulent lobby. Logan checked their coats and let the hostess know that there would be two for dinner. They sat back on an upholstered bench, leaning into each other and enjoying the delicious scents wafting out from the dining room. Logan could barely restrain himself from fidgeting. He felt like a kid out on a prom date.

“What?” Ororo prodded, her voice slightly amused.

“Nuthin’, darlin’, just relax,” he suggested, letting his eyes sweep over her again with possessive pride before sneaking a quick peck. He played with her fingers until the hostess let them know their table was ready. Logan pulled out all the stops, pulling out her chair before she sat. She was at ease and seemed to glow in the ambience of their surroundings as he stole looks at her over the edge of their menus. Their server came over and took their order for drinks, and Logan surprised Ororo again by ordering a bottle of champagne, despite the exhorbitant price tag. They skipped the ritual of sniffing the cork and just let their server pour, tucking the bottle back into the ice bucket and giving them more time to make up their minds.

“I’m not used to seeing you this dressed up,” Ororo chuckled. “You look so…dashing,” she teased.

“Dashing enough ta gimme some when we get home?” He waggled his eyebrows knowingly, and she released a sigh of feigned weariness.

“Oh, if I must,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, but she felt a happy tingle of anticipation. “Taking me out to dinner that I don’t have to cook is a tremendous aphrodisiac, bub. Don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself. Might get hungry for something else before the night is up.” He felt the low throb of heat surging into his loins.

“Yer a wicked, wicked woman.”

“I know.”She sipped her wine. “This is nice.” The dining room was decorated in warm, rich tones of coffee brown and gold, with framed paintings hanging on the brick red walls done by local artists. Then the thought occurred to her. “Logan…I forgot to take my shot.” She set down her glass and rummaged through her purse.

“Shit. Ask the lady where the women’s room is,” he offered.

“I saw it on our way in. I’ll only be a minute. If they come back, I want the salmon.” She stood and excused herself, reaching down and caressing Logan’s jaw on the way out. He watched her depart, enjoying the sight of her walk in that sexy dress, and sighed.

He’d been THAT close. The ringbox seemed to burn a hole in his pocket. A few minutes later, their server came back and he ordered for them both, thanking her when she deposited a basket of warm rolls and butter. He distractedly tore one of them apart while he waited for Ororo to return, growing more and more antsy.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a husky, female voice snuck up on his left side, coupled with the tang of spicy perfume.

“Logan?” He let the bread drop from his fingers back onto the plate, scarcely believing his ears. He twisted in his chair, craning his head up to stare Mary in the eye for the first time in longer than he wanted to remember. She was dressed to kill in a snug, ankle-length slip dress with a flared hem, made from bright red satin crepe. Her glossy brown hair was shorter now, framing her face in a jaw-length blunt cut that she’d teased for more volume. Gold bangles laddered up her wrist, and she wore a diamond pendant around her slender neck. Kohl lined her eyes, and she’d glossed her lips into a rosy pout that held no appeal for him anymore, but other restaurant goers snuck looks at her surreptitiously, craving an explanation to her appearance that Logan couldn’t give, and couldn’t give two rats about.

“What’re ya doin’ here, Mary?”

“Stopping by to say hi,” she replied. “So, hi.”

“Bye,” he snarled. She didn’t obey him, choosing instead to sit opposite him in the chair that Ororo had abandoned. “What the fuck d’ya think yer doin’, woman? Ya don’t belong here.”

“I wanted to talk to you. I never expected to see you here, in a place like this.”

“Look who’s talkin’. Are ya here fer business or pleasure? Or do ya still blur that line?”

“I came out with my friend Elektra,” she nodded, drawing his attention to a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman across the room who raised her glass and smiled seductively at him. Logan suppressed a grimace; she was dressed in a similar outfit, but hers was black and even more low-cut.

“That her real name?”

“Actually, it is.”

“Big whoop. Don’t leave her all by her lonesome.”

“Logan…I wanted to talk with you. I never cleared things up back when we-“

“There was no way in hell ya could ever clear that up, Mary. Ya were a whore, and ya stuck me in the middle of what ya had with that sonofabitch that put me in the hospital!”

“Mistress,” she hissed, and her face settled into a hard glare that diminished her beauty. “I told you about it. Things are different now. I have a new job now. I still model now, and I’ve even had some acting jobs here and there. Elektra’s my agent.”

“Sure she is.” He swirled his glass idly by its stem. “Acting. Ya told me ya modeled back when ya were doin’ yer old job. Acting isn’t that big a stretch from modeling, is it? D’ya act on yer back? Or on all fours?”

“That’s nice; real mature, Logan,” she huffed.

“Ya didn’t argue with me.”

“I’m doing fine. I’m not with Wade anymore. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Go do fine elsewhere. I’m waiting for my date.” He flicked his head toward the other side of the room. “Go back t’yers.”

“Your date.”

“I moved on. Had ta kinda figure I would.”

“I see.” She leaned over the table against her elbows, her cleavage straining more prominently against her neckline. Logan’s face was flushed with aggravation and embarrassment, and he felt like he was going to have to do something desperate. “What’s she like?”

“None of yer goddamned business.” She seized the opportunity to prick him.

“Does she get you off? Do you still make that growling noise right before you come, Logan?”

“Woman, if ya value yer life, yer gonna get yer bony ass up outta that seat and get the fuck outta here!” he hissed. “She ain’t like you. She don’t keep me guessing as ta her intentions. I don’t hafta wonder when she’s gonna get home at night, or if she’s gonna bring some fucking maniac home ta try ta kill me.”

“So it keeps coming back to that,” she muttered, shaking her head until her dangling earrings danced. “We used to be really good together.”

“We weren’t really together, Mary. I was with you, but you were with every friggin’ Tom, Dick and Harry. With the emphasis on the Dick.” He leaned forward and let a hint of menace creep into his tone. “Ya ain’t gonna get in my way with this shit. I have someone special. Someone who loves me, an’ only ME, d’ya get me? Ya don’t treat a man like ya did me. Ya just don’t. I’m done with games, and lies, and ten kinds of bullshit that ya had no right ta bring back up. Sing that song ta somebody else. I never really knew who ya were, Mary. Ya haven’t shown me any reason why I wanna try anymore.” She deflated slightly, nostrils flared at his threatening posture and indignance.

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “You’ll never have what you had with me with anyone else.”

“Get out.”

“Not until I meet this little paragon of virtue first.”

“Ya didn’t hear me, then.” Logan rose from the table, thunder in his eyes, and Mary changed her mind, backing her chair away from the table and rising, preening her ruffled feathers and smoothing back a wisp of her hair. Her back was ramrod straight as she left in the general direction of the lobby. Logan sat back, trying to suppress the tightening in his chest, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. Damn.

“What did you say to her?” Elektra stood with her hands on her hips, having witnessed the confrontation and her friend’s hasty exit to the lobby.

“Do ya really want me ta tell ya? She didn’t belong over here. Neither do you, sweet cheeks.” He waved her away dismissively.

“Asshole,” she hissed, stalking off.


In the women’s rest room lounge, Ororo was refreshing her makeup and zipping her insulin kit back into her purse. She mentally planned her meal and counted her exchanges for the day. She’d skipped a cookie break at work, anticipating their dinner.

What was Logan up to? She nudged her hair into place, tugging on a few loose tendrils that escaped her clip. She smoothed her dress and got ready to go back to Logan, before the door swung open, letting in two women chattering like magpies.

“What was that all about? What did he say?”

“He’s here with some skank,” the woman in red replied snappishly, striding into the stall with loudly clacking heels.

“Did you get to see her?”

“Pfft. No. I know she’s nothing to write home about.”

“Whatever. Do you even really care?”

“Sure I care. It sucked for me after he left. Everything just went to shit after that. Logan was gone, Wade was still acting psycho…I needed him. At least when Wade came around, or any of my other clients started getting ideas about me and trying to get too personal and hands-on, I had Logan.”

“He’s not bad-looking,” Elektra admitted. “How long were you with him?”

“Months.” Her voice sounded slightly wistful. “Gotta hand it to him, he seemed like he cared.” Ororo heard the faint flush of the commode and wanted to flee, but her feet seemed glued on the spot.

“That’s because he wasn’t one of your clients. You could care about him.”

“The man was fuckable, I’ll give him that. He was an animal in bed. There aren’t too many women in this world that could handle him.” Beneath the brashness and sass, her voice held a slightly wistful and mournful note.

“Shit. Listen to you.”

“It’s true. He left me walking funny more often than not. I couldn’t give him enough. His girlfriend better be a real brick house if she wants to keep up with him.”

“Did you get a look at him when he came in, to see who he came in with?” Ororo heard the faint hiss of a can of hair spray.

“Uh-uh. I just happened to notice him after his waitress dropped off the bread. I’d like to know how they got here. He used to have a sweet motorcycle. The only thing better than sex with Logan, was sex with Logan after riding with him on the back of that bike!” Ororo’s palms began to sweat. He’d never taken her anywhere on that bike, claiming he didn’t want to risk her for the sake of a ride, even when she offered to get a helmet.

Well.

“So what happened after Wade ran him down?”

“I went to see him in the hospital. I told him I wanted to be there for him. Once he started feeling better, though, that was the end of it. He said ‘Why do I want ya if I can’t trust ya? If yer just gonna run around with men that treat ya like property and then shove me between the two of ya?’ He went on and on about how he hadn’t been comfortable with me for a while, even before Wade. The thing is, he kept on coming back.”

“Guys don’t just come back after a car wreck, Mare. It just isn’t done. Too bad, though.”

“Logan just is the way that he is. Sure, he’s jealous, but he won’t settle down. Not if he feels like every woman in the world is out to get him. That’s the tune he was singing when he broke it off.” Which wasn’t exactly true. Ororo, still making slow progress with checking her hair and dress, cheeks and throat burning, had no way of knowing how much of the account she overheard was embellished.

Mary’s words already sank their teeth into her heart: If yer just gonna run around with men that treat ya like property and then shove me between the two of ya?

Ororo rushed out, barely offering the other two occupants of the rest room lounge a glimpse of swirling white skirts and a ripple of white hair disappearing around the corner of the swinging door.

Memories of her first intimate conversation with Logan echoed through her thoughts, chilling her now.

“You probably heard me before I ran out.”

“Not all of it.” Just enough ta know he didn’t appreciate ya ‘mingling’ with me. Tell me something.”

“Whatever you want to know.”

“Was I just a means to an end? Did ya plan t’make him mad by spending time with me?”

“I was already angry with him before we even left the house. He cheated on me. I guess I already knew, but I had my head buried in the sand... The signs were there.”

“Ya love him, though.”

“More fool me. He walked out on me once. I was stupid enough to take him back.” And then, her own cavalier dismissal: “We won’t talk about this. No more drama.”

The irony of it was choking her, clogging her chest.

She rushed back to the table, her gait stiff and awkward. Logan was looking strangely ill at ease, picking apart a dinner roll until he saw her, when relief flooded his features.

“Thought ya got lost on the way back, darl…baby? Ya okay?” His smile faded when he saw the grim set of her mouth.

“I lost my appetite, Logan; can you take me home?” His brows beetled together and he clenched his fists until the blood drained from his knuckles, whitening them starkly.

“We just got here,” he jibed, but his voice rang hollow with disbelief. “Thought we were gonna have a nice night out, ‘Ro.”

She swallowed around a lump, offering no other reply than to push her chair back under the table and step back.

“I see,” he shrugged, even though he didn’t. “Fine.” He scrubbed at his nape in frustration. “Ya don’t even wanna explain why?”

Things weren’t supposed to be like this, he fumed. This was right about when they were supposed to be grinning at each other over the appetizers and making jokes. Teasing her about his plans for when they got home. A little dinner. An overpriced dessert. Then, naturally, a speech that was gonna sound all wrong to his own ears, no matter how he planned it, but that he’d remember every day of his life even when they were both old enough to have forgotten everything else. He was still champing at the bit, craving the sight of the ring glinting up from her finger, her hand clasped in his.

He continued to stare at her. “Can’t ya just sit down, ‘Ro?” He saw the faint tremble of her chin before she straightened her shoulders proudly; she was wavering over the decision, he knew. “Why are ya like this all of the sudden?”

Her sigh was forlorn. “Logan, do you trust me?”

“Whaddya mean-“ A flash of red caught his eye. Mary and Elektra sauntered back to their table, and he caught Mary flicking her eyes furtively over Ororo from the back. Elektra followed her friend’s gaze, then added insult to injury by peering up at Logan. She bowed her head away from the accusing blaze of comprehension in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I trust ya, Ororo?”

“Maybe I’ve given you reason not to,” she murmured. Their server arrived again, this time looking slightly bewildered by Ororo’s position beside the table with her purse over her shoulder. She moved aside and let him set the heavy tray on the foldout rack and set their plates down neatly, warning them that they were hot. Logan grunted a dispassionate “no thanks” when they were offered fresh pepper. “Could you leave us the check now, please?” she pleaded. The server promised to be back with it in a moment, scurrying off.

“Yer killin’ me. Ororo, did ya talk ta anybody on the way back here? Why are ya bringing up stuff like this now, and acting like ya don’t wanna talk ta me?”

“Why did you sell your motorcycle?” she blurted out.

“What the fuck?!”

“Why did you sell Lulubelle? Because you wanted to get a car, or because it was a conflict, since you couldn’t take me anywhere on it? Or did it have other memories attached to it?”

“Other memories?” He was incredulous.

“Or other women?” He shook his head.

“Ya didn’t answer my question, darlin’. Did ya run into anybody who filled yer ear?”

“You tell me.” He struggled, knowing he was fighting the battle uphill and still stumbling back a few paces.

“Okay. My ex is here tonight. I saw her.”

“Okay,” she admitted sadly. “I heard her.”

“Shit, I knew it!” Annoyance bit at him, making him taste metal, but at least now, it all made sense. Their server placed the bill back on the table and nodded. “Siddown, ‘Ro.”

“I don’t want- “

“SIT!”

He got up from the table flanked her back, reaching around her to pull out her chair. “Stay,” he muttered, his breath warm against her shoulder.

She sat. He collected her purse, placing it on the end of the table facing the wall.

“Ororo, all ya have ta go by is what ya heard, whatever ya heard, and my side of the story, which I’m gonna tell ya now. And let me tell ya, darlin’, this ain’t how I pictured tonight happening. Not by a longshot.” She sipped her wine before picking up her fork, toying with a bit of her salmon.

“How did you picture tonight happening?” Her voice was flat, but he saw interest in her eyes, and the set of her shoulders softened slightly. He was still bursting, and the ring was still burning a hole in his pocket. He held himself in check. He needed to clear the air first. They both did.

“It could still happen. But just hear me out.” He took a bite of his baked potato, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. He swallowed it with a gulp of ice water. “My ex’s name was Mary. I met her at a different point in my life. The way ya see me now, well, that ain’t the way I was back then.” She ate a bite of salmon before picking up her lemon wedge to drizzle some over the filet. “I wasn’t doing much of anything with my life. When I wasn’t driving all night in my cab, I drank the rest of it away at the bars. Started bouncing. Kept rougher company. Didn’t really have anyone ta come home to, but that don’t mean I didn’t take women home.” Ororo sighed heavily. “Bear with me.”

“Fine,” she replied briskly.

“Mary and I had a complicated relationship. She came home with me. I fell for her. Pretty damned hard, too, but she ran hot and cold. Never knew what ta expect. And it didn’t make much sense ta me when she wouldn’t come home some nights, or why we never hung out at her place. Too many times she didn’t have an explanation for where she was when she wasn’t there. Too many of those times that she did, it sounded like a shitty excuse.” His eyes bore into hers. “Ya know how that feels.” A pang of guilt nagged at her.

“Let’s not talk about Pietro.”

“Don’t see why we can’t, if we’re bringin’ out my dirty laundry, kiddo.” She set down her fork and sat back further in her chair, and her blue eyes looked mutinous. “I’m just pointing out an example, not tryin’ ta throw stones or compare who had the shittiest relationship. It don’t matter that I’d beat ya in that regard…”

“Hah!” Her eyes rolled, and his lip quirked.

“Let’s not talk about that fucker, then. I walked in on her, Ororo. Goin’ at it, and full of excuses. And that was after I took her back once. Fool me once, shame on you,” he shrugged, “right?” She picked up a small, ripe grape tomato from her salad with her fingers and popped it into her mouth. “Seein’ that kinda thing with yer own eyes puts things into perspective.”

Ororo’s stomach churned. His voice was hard but patient, and his eyes were sad with remembered pain. “Yes. Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” His hand crept across the table and pried her fork out of her fingers, reaching for her. His grip was firm and determined, as though he was unwilling to let her go.

“I’ve been hurt. But that don’t hafta define who I am. If I let it, that just makes me walkin’ wounded, and I’m more than that. Thought you woulda known that by now, ‘Ro.”

Panic seized her. Not again…

Things weren’t supposed to be like this.

“Things like this keep on happening whenever anyone else walks in and tries ta get in the way of what we have. We keep havin’ ta explain ourselves. Keep getting our feelings hurt.”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” she retorted bitterly, even though her voice was calm. Absently she stroked his fingers with her thumb. He read conflict in her posture and voice. Words wouldn’t work. The right ones refused to come.

“So when’s the right time, darlin’? When’s the right time fer us?” She swallowed again, and opened her mouth to offer him an olive branch, to retract…any of what she’d said. She closed it again and bowed her head into her lap.

“I’ll get our coats. If the server comes back, leave her this,” he grumbled, rising from his seat and stalking off. She cursed herself when all the things she wished she’d said flooded into her mouth once it was too late. He looked so handsome and so proud, even when he radiated anger and hurt. She craned herself around to watch him curtly asking the coat check clerk for their things.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She caught sight of their server and flagged her down madly, her mind already racing for some way to soothe him.

She had just handed the server the bill and the folded twenties Logan left behind, counting off two of them and making change in her own purse for a third when she felt the strange urge to scan the room, feeling as though she were being watched.

Two women across the dining room were seated by the window, chatting beneath the glow of the soft lights. The taller of the two had glossy brown hair and wore a blood-red gown like a second skin. She was watching her. Her lips moved, and her companion turned to watch her, too, before bowing back to her plate. Mary didn’t gesture. She only stared. Venom filled Ororo’s veins, and she gathered her wits, dismissing her server as she rose.

Her stride was graceful and proud as she crossed the dining room. Her exhaled breath was gusty and resigned, startling Mary and Elektra from their conversation as she reached the table.

“I heard you, you know,” she announced bluntly.

“Heard what?”

“What you said. Back in the lounge, about Logan.” Mary didn’t offer any rebuttal. She merely leaned forward on her elbows and laced her fingers together. “And you were wrong.”

“Are you kidding? I was wrong? I was just telling it like it is, sweetheart, and I was telling HER,” she pointed out, nodding to Elektra.

“Telling it like it is.” Ororo shrugged. “You said most women couldn’t handle Logan. Thing is, Mary, Logan doesn’t actually need to be handled. Anyone who cared about him would know that.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Mary chuckled. Elektra looked uncomfortable.

“No. Here’s a tip. You hurt Logan.” This was greeted by Mary’s eyes flitting to her drink for a moment before riveting themselves on Ororo. “Don’t think you’ll get to do that again.”

“Are you finished?”

“No. Logan’s finished. Good night.” She pivoted and marched off, skirt fluttering and ignoring Mary’s snort of amused outrage.

On her way back, she caught sight of Logan back at their table, clutching their coats under his arm. He looked livid and betrayed. Ororo cringed.

She was silent when she took his coat from him. They made it out to the lobby before he muttered, “Went back fer more?”

“Logan…” Let me explain!

“I don’t wanna hear it, ‘Ro.”





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