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Title: Hunter
by: Satine16
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, they are property of Marvel. Don’t sue me.

Chapter 2: Flesh

There were fifty separate bumps and cracks in her ceiling. She had counted them four times in a row. Her bed was uncomfortable and she felt restless. In the back of her mind she knew what she had wanted to do, she just needed the courage. At one that morning, she finally managed to gain her confidence.
Her feet knew the way. The mansion was pitch black. No one would see her coming or going. As she approached the door the lights were on. She knew that they would be. Holding her slender arm out to knock on the door, she bit her lip, contemplating any last doubts. As her fist was about to come down on the door, it swung open wide.
“Who the…?” he stood in the doorway in his jeans, the light from his bedroom piercing the utter darkness of the hallway.
“Hello, Logan.”
“Whaddaya want, ‘Ro?”
“Can I come in a minute?”
“I can’t really stop ya,” he turned and walked to the back part of the room where he had been camped out, smoking a cigar. Her eyes wandered aimlessly over his bare chest and she couldn't help but remember the way it felt against her own body.
His eyes ran over her flesh quickly. She still wore the same silky, pale blue nightdress. The fabric left little to the imagination with its flimsy fabric and hugging fit. She still looked amazing.
“Well?” he asked, gruffly.
“Logan…I…” she stuttered. She knew what she wanted to say, but suddenly was at a loss for words.
“What?” he growled and spun to face her, the annoyance beginning to surface.
“Logan, I want you to look at me.”
“You should go,” his voice was cold as he turned back to what he’d been doing.
“Look at me, and tell me that you don’t love me,” slowly his body pivoted and he came to face her once again. The intense blue simply drove through her body and looked away again. He didn’t say anything.
“Logan…” he turned to face her again, and she could tell that his temper was starting to flare.
“You’re gonna get burned, Darlin’,” her nightgown was at her feet on the floor. She stood in front of him, nude, her skin and body as beautiful as he remembered.
“Tell me you don’t love me,” she was challenging him. Her jaw was locked, her eyes like stone, her body glistening. “I miss you,” she softly padded over to where he was standing and lined her body up with is back. He could feel her flesh as it softly brushed his back. Gently, he felt her shift, the heat from her sweet smelling breath pouring down on his neck, and tenderly she kissed the back of his neck.
In two motions he had her pinned against the door, his frame inches away from her own. Ororo could feel the heat radiating from his bare chest mouth. He smelled like beer, cigarettes, and something else, something dark and musky. It was something that was uniquely Logan.
“Don’t do this,” his eyes flashed as he held her there. Barely moving, she tilted her head so her lips just brushed against his own. He could smell her desire, her hope, but never fear. She leaned in and kissed his stubble-covered jaw, slowly trailing her lips down his neck.
“I miss you,” she whispered.
“Don’t push it, babe.”
“Logan, I’m not scared of you. I never have been. I know that you want me. I want it,” she said, her eyes full of fire.
He dove into the soft skin of her neck and chest. A small gasp escaped her lips at the feel of his hot skin and rough stubble on her own flesh. Letting her hands fall, his own rough and callused fingers wandered her body. They worked their way over her flat abdomen, long neck and smooth chest. Letting his mouth wander over her chest, his hands inched their way up her thighs slowly. He could feel the muscles in her stomach tightening with every centimeter. Her breathing had quickened.
Ororo’s eyes opened when the feelings stopped. He was on the other side of the room again.
“’Night, ‘Ro.”
“What?” she asked befuddled and frustrated.
“I decided I had some stuff ta figure out instead,” a smirk came across his face. “You’re nightie’s still on the floor. Don’ forget it.”
“Goodnight, Logan,” she picked up her sad garment from the floor and left the room halfway in-between pissed off and getting off.
“Damn that man! Damn him for what he can do to me and damn myself for letting him!” She walked down the hallway frustrated and angry.
Logan put his cigar back in his mouth as he looked back at what he was doing. “She thinks she can’t get scared. She jus’ don’ know what scared s’posed ta feel like. Yet.”





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