Chapter Eight: Brand New Man
I saw the light
I've been baptized
By the fire in your touch
And the flame in your eyes
I'm born to love again
I'm a brand new man
~Brooks and Dunn
The breeze coming in through the terrace windows she had thrown open before succumbing to sleep would have bothered some people. There was the scent of spice and dying earth on that bitterly cold wind. It caressed the room like a frosty lover’s hand, beckoning the couple lying on the bed into nature’s embrace.
Awake, though the hour neared dawn, a man known to many as Wolverine watched a woman known as Storm as she slept. Her beautiful face was relaxed, innocent as she delved into dreams of which he could have no part. Those generous lips parted slightly as she breathed, deeply, evenly, with the security of one in complete safety.
He touched her cheek softly, almost lovingly. She shifted under the light quilt they’d thrown on the bed, the duo enjoying the chill of autumn more than most. That long, lithe body grazed his lightly, her touch at once soothing and seductive. One of her silken hands rubbed at her face sleepily before it dropped onto the pillow, lost in snow-white locks that spilled recklessly over the pillow.
Logan wondered what her mind conjured for her to dream. She was blissfully without nightmares tonight, often smiling at something he could not see. He cuddled closer to her, propping his head in his hand with his elbow digging into the soft pillow. Her fingers flexed, as though she were reaching for something.
His gaze drifted down the outline of her body, ignoring the pull in his stomach that reminded him he had not taken her yet this visit. He wasn’t sure if she could, or if she even wanted him at the moment. He did, after all, still owe her an answer.
Without thinking about it, he let his hand cover her abdomen. Even through the thin quilt and material of her nightgown, the warmth sent a shiver racing over his flesh. It was as though he could feel life pulsating inside of her, begging to be rekindled.
Together, they had fashioned life inside of her. Together, they felt the blow when that life was so cruelly taken away. Logan wondered why she would want to risk that again, but at the same time, he understood.
Yes, even the fearsome Wolverine had longings. He had not noticed them until this whirlwind relationship with Storm erupted, but the call of family screamed in his veins. Before he had even turned around twice, he found himself bound to this woman. She inflamed him; challenged, ignited…it was an experience he had never had.
He understood her concerns, even encouraged them. If they did have a child, one they planned on, his presence would be a necessity. Every day there could be something new, something he would miss if he decided to tuck tail and run. Again.
If he were honest with himself, he didn’t feel that pull to dash off into the shadows. He was damn tired of running, he wanted to stand still. To breathe. To be with some semblance of permanence.
Logan leaned forward, kissing her lips softly, as he never had while she was awake. He was careful around her, never knowing what was happening in that beautiful mind. Logan could be a patient man and he was willing to wait, feel her out.
Careful not to wake her, Logan slipped out of bed, tucking the sheets around her. Forgoing any thought of dressing in more than his old sweatpants, he tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, especially with that good salami calling him from the refrigerator downstairs. Slipping through dark, snoring-filled halls, he took the back staircase to the kitchen, catching a whiff of someone down there before he stepped into the room.
A feral, almost wicked smirk crossed his face. She wouldn’t be able to avoid him now.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Logan chanted as he entered the kitchen.
She jumped up, a spoon in one hand and the tub of Rocky Road in the other. Kitty put her hand to her chest, glaring at him for all her petite body was worth.
“You scared me!” She admonished, her eyes darting about as though seeking escape.
He came into the kitchen, almost prowling. Kitty popped the spoon into her mouth and backed up. The sound of her swallowing was suddenly quite loud in the otherwise silent room. Logan leaned against the butcher’s block, eyeing her carefully.
“OK,” she said, muffled by the spoon. “I can totally explain.”
Logan raised a solitary brow. “Explain what?”
She gulped again. “Um. The whole thing with Trask.”
He sighed at her, rolling his eyes. “We’re gonna have to do somethin’ about your eavesdroppin’.”
The slight brunette mutant slid onto a barstool as though sensing from his stance and words that he was not going to eviscerate her on the spot. Logan eased over toward the fridge, opening it quickly. Forgetting the salami for now, he grabbed a beer, opening it as he turned to his young friend.
“Spill.”
At once, the girl began to speak as though someone had pumped her full of truth serum.
“Ok, so it’s like this,” she rattled nervously. “After the whole…thing at Alcatraz, I hacked into Trask’s computers so I could keep an eye on him.”
Logan sprayed the entire butcher’s block with the beer he had been drinking. Which, he felt, was pretty good distance through his nose.
“You did what?” He snarled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Don’t worry,” Kitty held her hands up in defense. “I bounced my signal over so many computers, satellites and networks that it would take a five years and a pogo stick to unravel.”
Against his will, Logan chuckled. “A pogo stick?”
“Oh,” Kitty said with some frustration. “Shut up. Anyway, I’d been monitoring him, right? All of the sudden, his files went from cataloging various mutants to going real, real deep into Storm’s history.”
“He’s building a case,” Logan nodded.
“I know,” the girl said somewhat forlornly. “That why I had to stop him. I had to, Logan, I don’t care if I get arrested or whatever.”
Sensing something more was happening beneath the surface here, Logan eased onto a barstool and leaned his elbows on the butcher’s block so that his forearms rested across it. He nodded at her, silently prodding her to tell him what this was really all about. It wasn’t like the bubbly girl to be suddenly so melancholy.
“You don’t get it,” she said simply, stirring her pilfered ice cream miserably.
“Explain it to me,” he insisted. “This ain’t just about you, kid. It’s all of us.”
Something deep inside purred at the way he said “us”.
“I was so afraid,” her voice dropped to a pained whisper. “I couldn’t control my mutation. My folks were freaking out…all of the sudden this nice old man shows up at my house, promising he can help me.”
Logan’s heart wrenched at the thought of their lost mentor. He shook it off, trying to concentrate on the young mutant in front of him.
“I was too afraid to believe him. I ran out of the room, but this beautiful woman came into the backyard. She said her name was Storm.” Kitty smiled at the memory, her look far off. “She told me that she knew what it was like to be afraid. I told her to piss off.”
“Did ya?” Wolverine smirked at that image.
“Yeah,” Kitty laughed shortly, her smile widening. “She raised her eyebrow and lifted her arms. Whoosh! She’s off in the air. There’s all this thunder and lightning…and I kinda figured out right about then why they called her Storm.”
He couldn’t help but smile as his young friend swooped and swished her arms, emphasizing her words. The image of Ororo showing her power off, trying to help a terrified young girl brought a warm feeling to the center of his chest.
“Then, she picks me up with the air…she took me flying,” Kitty’s voice sounded as though she were fighting tears. “I marched back into my house and told my parents they were sending me to mutant school. If she could control her powers, then damn it, so could I.”
“Sounds like our Storm,” he responded with a curt nod.
“We lost Cyclops, which was bad enough. And then the Professor, which just sucked so bad. By the time…” She glanced at him, as though afraid to voice it.
“By the time I killed Phoenix,” Logan offered, feeling the pang of guilt directly to the heart.
“Yeah,” Kitten said quietly. “I couldn’t take it anymore. If me destroying Trask’s files brings on Armageddon, at least I didn’t let him take Storm from us. We all need her; she’s the head of the family, the matriarch. I won’t let them take her, Wolverine.”
From the steel of conviction in the tiny girl’s voice, Logan momentarily wondered if Trask hadn’t picked on someone too big for him. Kitty, practically raised within the walls of the school, had learned to fight for what she wanted. He had little doubt that Kitty would take a bullet for Storm, should the need ever arise.
“Its OK, Kitten,” Logan assured her. “We won’t let them.”
A shrewd look came over the girl’s angelic features. “You’re sticking around, then? No more of this “Wham-Bam-Thank you ma’am” crap?”
“Hey!” Logan choked on his beer. “Watch your mouth.”
“Well,” she huffed. “Ororo needs someone who isn’t gonna take off. Who’ll be there when she’s lying on the floor bleeding.”
Logan startled as though she’d physically slapped him.
“Oh yeah,” the girl snapped. “You and I haven’t had this little chat yet, as I’ve been avoiding you. Well, lets just fix that right now.”
He raised both brows, almost terrified of what a mutant who could phase through solid matter was about to do to him.
Kitty slid off of her barstool and came around the butcher’s block, her Rocky Road abandoned. There was fire in her brown eyes, conviction and truth and all manner of things Logan could not even begin to name.
“I’ve never seen her so broken,” the young woman said without any trace of kindness. “She waited for you, you son of a bitch. I don’t care if you were hurting or locked in an adamantium cell in southern Peru, you should have been here.”
Too stunned to speak, Logan merely gaped at her.
“If you ever, and I mean ever hurt her that way again, so help me God I will reach into your chest and rip your black heart out. You can try healing that, buddy.”
Logan felt his eyes widen at the sheer murder in his friend’s eyes. She gave him a cheeky smile then, swatting him playfully on the shoulder.
“I’m glad we had this little chat. Now, I’ve got a hot, handsome Russian waiting for me upstairs. Put my ice cream away, would ya?”
With that, she bounced out of the kitchen, leaving Logan to stare after her as though she’d lost her mind. He glanced at the melting ice cream and at his beer, shaking his head.
“Everything keeps telling me to stay here, even the Kitty-Kat.” He shrugged. “Fuck it.”
He left the ice cream and his beer on the counter, rushing back upstairs and into the bed of the woman he loved.
~**~
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Ororo rewarded his grin with a smile as she looked up from the paperwork currently attempting to drown her. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Logan said, coming into the room. His heart started to race, which irritated him more than anything. “You busy?”
She indicated to the paperwork, amusement dancing in her lovely eyes. “Save me?”
“Always, darlin’.” He grabbed her coat from the stand behind her desk, holding it out for her.
“Are we going somewhere?” She questioned him while pulling the soft, fawn-colored coat on, belting it at the waist.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Lets take a walk, it’s nice out.”
She seemed surprised, but nodded nonetheless. They left her office, side by side and moved to the back door without speaking. He knew of her affinity for the gardens and led her to the entrance.
The air pleasantly crisp, leaves falling in the gentle breeze, Logan inhaled deeply. There was something so maudlin about this season, when everything braced itself for the winter. Though it was always beautiful here at the mansion, something about it always made him slightly sad.
Not that he would admit that. To anyone.
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat, holding one elbow out for Ororo to take. The smile she gave him could have lit up the night, making his heart flip-flop in his chest as though he were on his first date.
Once her hand slid into place at his elbow, he brought his arm closer. She moved beside him, their pace leisurely, the couple enjoying a gentle autumn afternoon. Her shoes made clicking sounds on the cobblestone walk, muted by the heavy thump of his boots.
Logan had been lost in his thoughts all day. Though he’d gone back to bed after his interesting altercation with Kitty, sleep eluded him. He kept envisioning scenarios once thought impossible. A life here, with the X-Men, on a permanent basis. It sounded almost too good to be true.
What he truly wanted, however, clung to his arm at this precise moment. Her face was lifted up to the cold autumn sun, as though she were trying to commune with the elements alive all around her.
They walked in silence for several minutes, comfortable out of doors on such a perfect fall afternoon. Logan turned her away from the gravesite and toward the arbor, where her greenhouses were kept in meticulous order.
He felt her move closer, bringing her other hand up to grasp his arm. The simple intimacy in that gesture made him smile.
“Hey, ‘Ro?”
“Hmm?” She hummed, leaning her head on his shoulder as they moved through the withering arbor. He glanced at her, noticing her eyes closed and a soft, pleased smile on her lips.
“I’ve been thinkin’, bout everything you said the other night,” he kept his tone light, wanting to keep her wrapped around his arm like that just a little longer.
“I know,” she answered, not moving.
He drew them to a stop in front of the greenhouses, the scent of living things wafting out through the ventilation system until it surrounded him. Ororo turned to him, keeping her hands on his arm.
“I’ve made my decision, an’ I didn’t make it on the fly or without thinkin’,” he assured her. “This is what I want.”
Something that could have been fear crossed her eyes and he instinctively reached up with his free hand, brushing a wayward white lock from her eyes. As though his fingers had a mind of their own, they curled around her cheek, relishing the warmth as she smiled tenderly.
The hand entwined with hers released her fingers, dropping to her flat abdomen. Ororo looked down curiously and he leaned closer to whisper.
“I wanna see you,” he admitted softly, pulling his hand several inches away. “Out to about here.”
His sensitive ears caught her sharp intake of breath. Her hands gripped his arm more tightly, making him draw her face up again so he could see her eyes.
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
Ororo reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, forcing him to gladly take her into his arms. She didn’t have to say anything, her relief and hope radiated in her body; he could very nearly smell it on her.
With his hands flat against her back, he pulled her flush against him. She laughed merrily in his ear as he yanked her off of her feet, spinning her happily. Joy and hope welled in his chest, making him act a fool as he tried to do something with that energy.
Soft, pristine snowflakes fell around them, Storm’s emotions reflecting in the very skies. Logan looked up, snagging her lips in a wet, sloppy kiss that made her chuckle against his mouth.
Everything, it seemed, was as it was meant to be.
~**~
Ororo led Logan into her bedroom, saucily toying with the belt of her coat. He prowled toward her, a feral, seductive fire in his gaze. She swayed her hips to the dull thrum of music coming from a bedroom down the hall. Logan’s eyebrows went up as his licked his lips.
Oh yes, it had been too long.
After he closed the bedroom door, she shrugged easily out of her coat, letting it lay where it fell. Searching hands went for the pins holding her hair off of her neck until she could shake the growing locks free.
Logan stalked her as a predator seeking pray. Their heated gazes locked across the scant feet separating them, the promise of pleasure almost a delicious threat. Ororo kicked her heels off as she backed toward the bed.
The jacket of her suit fell as her coat had even as Logan shrugged out of his leather bomber. He threw it aside, pulling the black tee stretched over his chest over his head to reveal tanned, sculpted muscle.
He was so ridiculously sexy that Ororo felt her knees weaken. Want thrummed through her veins and a light breeze brought the scent toward her prowling lover. Logan inhaled sharply as he kicked his boots off.
The space between them closed immediately. All but tackling her to the bed, Logan wrapped her into his arms. Their kiss was heated, filled with decadent promises. Teeth clashed together as hands flew to the remaining clothing keeping their flesh from meeting.
Her hands smoothed over his bare chest and the rounded muscle of his shoulders. Logan parted her thighs with a knee, forcing her skirt up over her thighs. Those masculine fingers gripped below her knees before sliding up.
Ororo tore her mouth from his, the tug of desire in her belly almost unbearable. She tilted her head to the side, offering her throat to his hot, searching mouth. He latched onto her pulse point viciously. She felt her mutation slip making the winds howl and the rain pound against the mansion’s windows.
Logan pulled her up far enough to peel the white shirt she’d worn under her suit. Her bra was unclasped with an expert flick of his fingers so that her breasts fell into greedy hands. Sighing, gasping at the exquisite pleasure of his hands on bare flesh, Ororo arched beneath him.
His belt buckle and zipper came apart with careful movements of her hands even as he tugged at her skirt.
“Where’s the damn zipper?” He snarled huskily into the hollow of her throat.
“There is none,” was her whispered reply. She scraped her nails down his back, hips rocking into his. “You have to peel it off.”
“Jesus,” he swore. “Fuck that.”
“Don’t you…”
Snikt! Two lethal claws unsheathed, tearing the material of her expensive skirt before he put his weapons away.
“Dare,” Ororo finished on an irritated sigh.
“Bill me,” he rumbled, dropping a wet kiss to the space between her breasts.
She fought with the denim of his jeans, pulling them down over his backside until he could kick them off. Her ruined skirt flew over his shoulder, the two of them sighing at the contact of bare skin from head to toe.
His hands seemed to be everywhere, even when he began to slide down her chest. She undulated into him, biting her lips and bruising her palms with her nails at the feel of him all over her. Logan’s bedroom prowess was unmatched in her experience. There was nothing like having this rough man manipulating her body.
The proclamation that he was staying, that he wanted to have a child with her made her heart flutter. His body on hers made her skin scream for more. They pawed at one another with primal lust that had nothing to do with what was in their hearts. Because they were attempting to create life did not heart-wrenching romance require.
Their lips met again, each fighting for more. Tongue dueling madly in hot mouths, Ororo felt him shift against her. His hard cock pressed insistently into her thigh. Her body instinctively tightened, the phantom feel of having him inside made her whimper wantonly.
She was somewhat surprised when he buried his hands in her hair, pulling away to meet her eyes.
“This gonna hurt you, darlin’?” He whispered, concern creeping into his eyes around the blinding lust.
“I am not sure,” she admitted.
“You tell me if it does.” Logan nipped at her lips, then nuzzled her nose with his affectionately.
She could have melted through the bed at the tenderness in his tone. “I promise.”
He dropped them back against the mattress, instantly wrapping her into another toe-curling kiss. Sweat already beaded on their flesh, making the writhing bodies move more fluidly against one another.
One of Logan’s hands fell to her hip, his thumb rubbing in entreating circles. Ororo moved her thighs further apart, offering herself to him without even a thought to reservation. For once in her damned life, she was going to go with her gut. Logan had already fathered one child, and by the Goddess herself, he would give her another.
Thought came to a screeching halt, replaced with something much more primitive when Logan’s talented fingers slipped into the slender patch of white at the apex of her thighs. She growled his name, making him smirk against her lips.
He parted her slick folds carefully, his fingertip teasing at her swollen clit. Ororo’s nails bit into his shoulders when one thick finger dove inside of her. He moved slowly, as though testing her reaction to ensure she was in no pain.
It stung, but the delicious things he happened to be doing with his mouth drove the pain away. In mere seconds, she was thrusting against his hand, whimpering for more of him.
When he removed his hand, hooking them under her arms, Ororo grunted with protest. He shifted her on the bed, lying her head on the down-soft pillows. He settled easily between her thighs, dragging his hands over the wealth of her flesh.
His kiss was more tender now, succeeding in distracting her thoroughly as he slipped inside of her. She tensed, just slightly, at the welcome invasion, waiting for pain. When it seemed she could bear it, she rocked her hips slightly against him; an invitation for more.
Logan groaned, the sound lost in her kiss-swollen mouth. As delved deeper, she wriggled against him, her hips rocking, inner muscles squeezing. Damn, but this man could turn her into a wanton sex goddess without even trying.
At first, his pace was slow, agonizing as he tortured her with unhurried movements. Every thrust of his hips ensured she felt the full length of him moving inside of her. His hands massaged each of her bare breasts, lightly toying with both chocolate nipples.
“Faster,” Ororo pleaded. “More.”
Her lover’s breath hitched, but his body gave way. “You feel too goddamn good.”
She chuckled huskily, her entire body thrumming deliciously at his increased pace.
“Tight…hot…wet,” he continued. “Makes me so hard, just thinking about it.”
Ororo groaned when he hit the perfect spot, not at all surprised when he shifted to continue stroking that secret place hidden inside of her.
“I’m gonna make you mine,” he whispered, nipping at her ear. “Only mine.”
She shuddered with something like pleasure at his words, gasping when his pace immediately changed. He was all but pounding into her now, making the springs of her bed protest with every thrust.
Her head thrashed against the pillows, words lost to soft groans and howling wind. Logan’s lips swooped in to claim hers once more, succeeding in driving out all thought until she was left only with sensation.
One of his gifted hands wiggled between them until he could expertly stroke her clit in time with his bruising thrusts. Ororo’s mind went completely blank as she shattered, whimpering Logan’s name in the instant before climax took her.
His body went rigid above hers as he followed her over the brink and into bliss. As the winds calmed and the rain evaporated, he dropped himself onto his elbows. Their lips met with less urgency this time, the both of them enjoying the intimacy with pleasure.
It came as no surprise when she felt him harden a beat later, his voice moving against her lips as they parted for air.
“Again.”
~**~
“Oh, he’s such a freaking moron. I can’t believe he got a Primetime spot. God, I hate that guy.”
“Did someone kick your proverbial dog, Trish?” Hank asked as his lover scowled at the television in his apartment.
The woman in question sprawled on his sofa, a pair of chopsticks in one hand and a white box of Kung Pao Chicken in the other. So long as he could remember, Trish had a weakness for the Chinese dish. He distinctly recalled a time in their college days “ during the dreaded finals “ when she had eaten nothing but for a solid week.
He watched her with a soft smile on his face, noticing for the first time that she was without the mental defenses she had carried with her the last several years. In her worn sweat pants and a faded NYU sweatshirt, she lay against the arm of his sofa, all her long hair draped over the side.
She had scrubbed the makeup from her face and brushed her teeth upon arriving at his apartment, stating firmly that she needed a little TLC. Hank was more than happy to give her that.
“Look at him,” she continued, obviously disgusted. “Mitch Cromwell. Daddy owns half the network and he gets a Primetime slot out of college.”
“His reports seem rather well researched,” Hank observed.
Trish scowled at him in a manner that would make Wolverine proud. “Hank, sweetie, you’re on my side. Call him names and stroke my ego.”
He rewarded her with a lopsided, slightly bemused grin. “Oh, I am terribly sorry for that oversight.”
His lover shifted primly in her half-lying position. “Just don’t let it happen again.”
The sight of her so easily thrown into his apartment twisted his heart in a pleasant way. Never in his life “ since turning himself blue and furry “ had he felt this comfortable in a woman’s presence. Trish was different. He did not yet know why, but she was.
“The school district declined to comment while the case is still under review. Mitch Cromwell, NCBC Primetime. Harry?”
Trish threw a pot sticker in the general direction of the television.
“You are going to pick that up,” compulsively tidy Hank pointed out, looking up from his fried rice.
“Think so, Blue?” She nudged him with her foot, raising a dark brow.
“Yes, yes I do.” He met her gaze, which he saw to his delight was filled with unspoken, lusty promises.
“Huh,” she shrugged. “We’ll see.”
They lapsed into silence for several seconds, turning to watch the next news story. When Trish spoke again, it was with her eyes trained on the television. “Hey, Blue?”
“Yes, my dear?” He braced himself without thinking about it, slightly ashamed when he realized he was waiting for the inevitable brush off.
“There’s a party next week for the station, formal and all. I bought the most killer white dress…”
His eyebrows touched his hairline at the innuendo and the slight fear in her tone. “Oh?”
“Wanna be my date?” She asked, sounding like a schoolgirl asking a crush to the Sadie Hawkins dance.
Hank put his food on the coffee table, reaching to take hers away so it could rest beside his. She watched him cautiously as he laid over her much smaller form, careful to avoid crushing her beneath his weight.
She nearly purred when he touched her nose with his before kissing those plump, soy sauce-flavored lips.
“Of course,” he whispered, reaching down to slide his hands beneath her sweatshirt. “I will go anywhere with you.”
“Oh, Jesus,” she whimpered as he took one breast into his hand. “I never stood a chance at resisting you, did I?”
Hank couldn’t answer, as his mouth happened to be full.
