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Licking his lips, he leaned forward slightly, letting his breath caress her lips, "yeah . . ." Her hands rested at the base of his neck and slowly traveled over his shoulders, down his chest. Fingers skimmed over the curving and rippling pectoral muscles, down to the bunched up muscles of his abdomen, brushing the top of his belt buckle. He growled ferociously and caught her wrists, crossing them and pushing his body forward, trapping her body between his own and the soft couch cushions. "What's goin' on 'Ro? What do you think you're doin'?"

But her eyes were locked on her wrists, the irises shimmering, mesmerizing him, making him forget for a moment that his body was pressed against her. Reality registered, oh fuck . . . His hand stayed, holding her wrists, but he got on his knees, bracing himself above her, putting space between the heat emitting from her. It almost swallowed him up, caused him to pant with desire.

But she didn't want to separate, her hips arched upwards, against the throbbing that was starting to chew at the back of his brain. He flinched, the shock of her heat against him jolting his mind to feverish, perverse fantasies of her body succumbing to his ministrations. But even though his head was reeling with desire, he felt her body stiffen tensely. "Jean is approaching."

Groaning, he got off her. He looked at her quizzically, "why would she care?" Remorse flashed in her eyes and he felt his heart constrict.

Shuffling away from him, she gazed into his eyes mournfully. "Because she loves you."

He shot back as if he'd been slapped. "That's not funny . . ." He growled lustfully. And she found herself wondering if it was for her, felt as his finger gently traced the skin just beneath the strap of her nightgown. "I don't care about her . . ." he murmured. She was taken aback by the gentle tremor in his voice. Hope glimmered, and extinguished just as quickly. Shaking her head slightly, she brought his hand up to her lips and placed a kiss on the inside of his palm, sprinkling kisses over the pads of his fingers. A smile quirked his lips. "Hey 'Ro, you mind quittin' that, I'm ticklish."

She smirked, "I know." Laughter rumbled in his chest. And suddenly her face was somber, " you know where I am when you need to talk." She left him then and seconds later Jean entered. For the first time he felt an emotion he had never felt before when Jean and him were alone, he felt loneliness.

He stomped onto the roof, his usually fluid movements now uncontrolled and tense, like a caged animals. "What the hell is goin' on around here anyway!?"

She didn't even turn toward him or seem to acknowledge his presence, but somehow he knew she heard him. Her arms tightened around her body and she gazed at him over her shoulder, white strands of hair gliding across her face. "She tried to," had he imagined it, or did he see pain flashing in her eyes, " to . . . "

"Yeah she did." Storm seemed almost relieved that she didn't have to finish her sentence. "I know that my roughish good looks bedazzle more then a few ladies."

One side of her lip curled up in an amused smile. He was so damn cocky, but while in others it was irritating, for him it was so adorable. Shaking her head, she sighed deeply. You've got it bad girl. Oh well back to the matter at hand.

"But this is just ridiculous. You'll have to explain what's happenin' here 'Ro."

"You're the reason why Jean and Scott are having problems."

He snorted, remembering all the times he had come between the couple, but somehow their relationship had always stayed in tact. "Yeah, what else is new?"

She spoke as if she hadn't heard him, she was in one of those pensive moods, he mused, she probably hadn't even heard him. "When you left Jean withdrew from everyone, acting distant even toward Scott. It was obvious what was wrong, but as always the emotions were ignored. The Scott found her diary . . . " Her face contorted in pain, " he was so crushed when he read that she loved you, how she'd been fooling herself with him. And he turned to me, I don't really know why and when it happened but he did, and we became so close. The best of friends again. He would come to my room sometimes, and cry so much, until he would fall asleep in my arms. He still does sometimes. But unfortunately this closeness between us put a strain on another friendship."

"So wait, Jean loves me?" His confusion was obvious and he was slightly startled by her abrupt laugh.

"Catch up Logan, I told you that much down in the den."

The den . . . He felt a rippling pleasure through his bones. "Well what you were saying was not exactly what my attention was set on." He relished at the sight of her blushing. "And that's another thing. You . . . Not that I'm complainin' but sump'thin' about you has changed. You're more, well, you're more sexual."

A frown covered her lips and he suddenly regretted saying that. "I was always like this Logan. Have you ever thought about the possibility that you have changed? You never noticed before, " her voice cracked, " there was always a certain redhead blinding your vision."

"I never meant to ignore you."

Her smile was warm and forgiving. "I know. Besides, now you won't be able to ignore me."

"You so confident about that darlin'?"

"Definitely." She brushed past him, leaving him alone, a chuckle echoing in the silence of the night.





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