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Chapter Eleven: Not In Love



“You smell like rain.”

Ororo, propped against the headboard of her bed, raised a brow at Logan. His cheek lay against her bare belly, his muscular form sprawled across the width of her bed. They had been this way for hours without incident. At least she assumed it had been that long. The sun had set in the west some time ago, leaving them to the cool night air and the singing of crickets below them.

Logan had a strange need to touch her. While the gentle caress of his fingers never ventured too far, she wanted to groan with every touch. It was a simple thing, being touched and touching in return. And yet, for her it spoke more than a thousand volumes of romantic sonnets.

“I smell like rain?” she asked, wanting to laugh.

“Yeah. I couldn’t figure it out until that night you took off into the storm,” he answered, smiling against her skin.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah. Don’t ever wear perfume,” he looked up at her, shifting so that he could prop his elbow on the bed, half laying on her.

“I am allergic,” she explained. “My skin does not take artificial ingredients very well.”

“I’m allergic to shellfish,” he responded.

“Does that matter?” she raised a brow.

“Not really, no. I just heal anyway,” he grinned at her.

Ororo laughed. It was an unusual feeling. They were both as nude as the day they were born, stretched out on her bed and yet neither of them had made a single move toward the other.

In the first few minutes, Logan had seemed to hold on to his control by his fingernails. Ororo had to admit that the first sight of his naked body had nearly sent her into a lust-filled frenzy. He was strong, toned, and hairy. Everything that she loved about the male half of the species.

When they began to talk, it gradually eased his discomfort. At first, they kept the conversation limited to teaching, sitting on opposite sides of her bed. He had questions which she answered as well as she could, telling him that he would have to find his own way, as they all did.

Slowly, they moved on to more personal things, closer together, until nothing was off limits and he laid on her. The topic of her smell was not one she had been prepared for. His keen senses said she smelled like rain…there were worse things, she supposed.

“’Ro?”

“Yes, Logan?”

He reached out, touching her lips with a fingertip. He was warm and gentle this way, without the emotional armor he usually carried in spades. She assumed his guard was down for one reason; she was just as vulnerable as he.

“I like this.”

“What?”

“This. Being here just like this. Nothing between us.”

Ororo took his hand in hers, her fingers dancing over the back of his hand. She traced the lines where his claws lay dormant, awaiting action by command or instinct.

“I do too,” she agreed. “Though, once we have passed my exam, we can move on.”

A dark eyebrow raised in response to that. Ororo cast a quick glance down his body, biting her cheek when she noticed his arousal was stirring a little. Taking her eyes from that particular area she desperately wanted to discover, she settling back, letting his hand fall to her skin.

“Why did you kiss me?” she asked curiously, unsure why that mattered.

“Because I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do at that point,” Logan replied, his hand sliding over the ripple of her ribcage.

“Good answer,” she smiled at him.

“Why did you kiss me?” he replied, tracing a circle over her belly.

“Because everything in my body needed more of you.”

“Better answer.”

“I try.”

They looked at one another in silence for a few moments. Her eyes kept his gaze, surprised by the level of emotion in them. Could she really enter a relationship with the Wolverine? Would he remain volatile, even with her? Or was his behavior now to be expected when they were alone?

In public, she had no desire for displays of affection. Those moments were supposed to be kept private. She knew, in her heart, that something in her yearned for this man, though how or why it had happened was a mystery. She could walk away now and never look back or she could take a chance. The choice was hers.

The more he looked at her that way, as though no one else on earth existed, the more she wanted to take the chance.

“Logan, I have not had a…lover in some time. I will not claim to be good at relationships, but if you are willing to try…” she trailed off, watching him.

“Does that mean we passed the test?” he smiled at her, tapping her on the tip of her nose gently.

“I think so.”

He was quiet for a moment before he nodded very slowly. “Yes, ‘Ro. I want to try. We could fuck everythin’ up, but damn it, I can’t just ignore it.”

Ororo gave him a mock glare, crossing her arms over her breasts. “I do hate it when you swear.”

Logan raised a brow, reaching up to move her arms. “Get used to it. I won’t change. And you better not.”

She fought a smile for a few moments, eventually giving in when he leveled her with that sly half-grin he seemed so fond of. Shaking her head, truly believing he was the most insufferable man on the face of the earth, she crooked a finger at him, beckoning her skyclad companion closer.

With slow, graceful movements, Logan slid up her body, making her bite her lip against the exquisite feeling of his flesh on hers. He turned, lying completely over her, threading his legs with hers.

“Kiss me,” she whispered when he was close enough, remembering the line from Casablanca. “Kiss me as if it were the last time.”

A soft growl left his lips at her breathy command. He nudged her nose with his, shifting so that he could brace his weight on his hands. Unconsciously, Ororo moved her legs apart, cradling him gently between her thighs. She heard him inhale sharply at the intimate contact, smirking a little to herself. She was playing with fire.

Logan’s lips found hers, stealing her breath and wiping any hint of humor from her lips. Yes, it was still the same. The hammering heartbeat, the tingle all over her skin, heightened by the feel of his naked body in her arms.

He pulled back, looking down at her. Ororo traced the lines of his face with her fingertips, marveling at the expression of awe she received.

“No one’s ever touched me like that. Like I’m worth somethin’,” he said, his voice rough.

“You are worth something, Logan. Worth more than all the diamonds in the world,” she replied, meaning it with everything in her.

“I’m grouchy, anti-social, and mean as hell. What’re you doin’ with me?”

“Mmm. I do not know, but I am willing to find out.”

Wind howled through her open balcony window, making them both turn toward the intrusion. Storm felt a distinct sting behind her eyes, the one that told her the hold on her mutation was weakening.

Logan raised a dark brow in her direction, his hand coming to rest on her hip.

“Hey, don’t do that, darlin’. It’s just me,” he told her gently.

“I know. It is…passion not fear that moves the winds,” she replied.

Closing her eyes, she brought a finger to her lips, as one would quiet a rowdy child. The winds died slowly, retreating back into the skies at their mistress’ dismissal.

“Passion, eh?” Logan’s hand snaked downward.

“Logan…”she warned, not opening her eyes.

“Let it howl, darlin’.”

Ororo opened her eyes, her hands moving to touch him as he had her. Pulling him closer, she shifted her legs, bringing them up to settle across his powerful thighs. It was madness, what this man did to her. One look, one growl from his throat and every hint of control snapped free.

She wanted this, something real and primitive as she. Logan answered that mating call with one of his own, surprising them both when they least expected it. She could feel him change in her arms, as though understanding that the test was over.

“’Ro,” his deep voice rumbled. “I think control’s a thing of the past.”

“Good,” she answered, rocking her hips deliberately. “Because I am through waiting.”

Logan’s response was not verbal. He growled a moment before his lips crushed hers, demanding she respond with equal passion. She felt her hold on the weather around them shake and though she felt responsible to hold on to them, she let it go.

The new few moments were a blur. Never had she released her mutation as quickly, allowing her mind to spill free of constraints, concentrating on the primal creature in her arms. Ororo groaned when Logan’s lips found the hollow of her neck, her fingers sliding into his hair and scratching that secret place behind his ear.

He groaned in approval, his hips arching into hers of their own accord. From that instant, she knew there could be nothing slow. He needed the release she had granted herself, permission to let go of everything society told him was wrong.

“Let it go, my Logan,” she whispered through his growls. “Let it go and feel with me.”

The look in his eyes changed from passionate to feral in the single beat of her heart. She was not afraid. She could never be afraid. Thunder rolled out of doors and lightning crashed through the previously beautiful night when she realized there was nothing holding them back.

Logan’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, mapping her skin as she tried to reach him. He inhaled deeply, as though trying to burn the scent of her into his mind as he touched her, finding all of those secret places on her body that drove her wild.

Whenever their mouths met, tongues dueled, teeth clashed and lips bruised. Ororo could only feel the heat of passion, gooseflesh racing along her skin as though wanting to have his attention next. He was as gentle as he could be, but she knew there would be marks on her in the morning.

She cried out when his hand slid to her core, his agile fingers exploring her intimately for a few moments. Wetness coated his fingers, slicking the tops of her thighs as she writhed beneath him. Without a doubt, she knew he would not last much longer and his claiming of her would be fierce.

The thought nearly sent her to oblivion on it’s own.

Clenching her teeth to quiet her moans of pleasure, Ororo watched Logan’s deadly hands work between her thighs. His fingers grazed the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her folds before moving lower until a thick finger slid inside of her.

Crying out in her native Swahili, Ororo’s hips arched sharply off of the bed, only to be pushed back down by one of Logan’s hands. Her eyes closed tightly against the waves of pleasure, she did not notice Logan had moved until she felt the silken warmth of a tongue on her heated flesh.

Eyes snapping open in surprise, Ororo fisted her hands in the sheets, looking down her body to where Logan feasted. He was making a soft whimpering sound, as though in pain as he licked and nibbled at her clit, keeping her hips still by force.

Groaning his name, she reached for him, burying a hand in his hair to pull him closer. He was experienced, for that she was grateful. Electricity seemed to flow into her, white-hot light gathering behind her eyes even as the wind increased it’s persistent howl. Ororo turned her head, gasping into her pillow, hips bucking against Logan’s mouth as he drove her to the brink.

Wanting to scream, she climaxed a beat later, her body trembling as she tumbled into bliss. Logan’s mouth kept working, his tongue driving into her as though he would never be finished. Hissing against the aftershocks, she blinked her eyes open, breathing raggedly.

He pulled his head up, watching her and licking his lips as though he were a cat who got into the cream. In his eyes, ferocity and need warred with a hint of restraint. Wanting to give as much as she had received, Ororo untangled her legs from Logan’s shoulders and slowly rolled over onto her stomach.

Blushing, though that seemed ridiculous, at her boldness, she got up on her hands and knees, tossing her hair over her shoulder to look at him. The deliberate movement had put her backside in front of his face and she wiggled as though to entice him.

“Goddamn, ‘Ro,” he breathed, getting up onto his knees.

“Please,” she gasped, her body crying for more of him. “Do not hold back.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he protested, though his hands smoothed over her hips and bottom.

“I am stronger than I look, my darling. Take what is offered you,” Ororo insisted.

Without another word, Logan pushed two fingers into her, groaning against her skin. She gasped, pushing back onto his hand, biting her lip against the waves of desire. She could feel him move behind her, his legs pushing hers closer together so he could straddle them, his fingers still moving inside of her.

Crooning his name as though it were a prayer, she felt his hand leave her, before the tip of his arousal pushed at her entrance.

“Logan…”

She cried out when he buried himself inside with one sharp thrust. Fisting her hands in the sheets of her bed, she pushed back against him, her eyes crossing as he stretched her. Giving barely enough time for her to inhale, Logan moved again, his fingertips sinking into her hips as he pulled out to thrust back inside. He set a breakneck pace, hands guiding her movements as he took her. There was little gentleness in his touch and that fueled her own desire. Primal instincts taking over, wanting to be claimed as his, even as the wind screamed around them, drowning out any sounds from the world beyond her bedroom.

Logan’s guttural growls sent shivers through her. He took a hand from her hip, sliding it up her back and into her hair. She cried out when he tugged, hard, bringing her up from her hands to rest against his broad chest.

His lips claimed hers roughly, the motions of his hips never slowing as his tongue swept into her mouth. She wrapped an arm about his neck, holding on, freeing his hand to cup one of her breasts. He rolled a nipple between his fingers, groaning into her mouth when it pebbled under his touch.

Mind utterly gone, Ororo could only feel him, feel this undeniable heat between them. It was not moonlight and roses, but intimate on a completely real level. Logan’s mouth tore from hers, his hands releasing her as his every thrust grew more erratic. Sensing he was close to release, she unwrapped her arm from his neck, falling back onto her hands.

Meeting his every thrust with one of her own, Ororo looked over her shoulder at her lover, etching the image of his lust-filled eyes and red lips into her mind. He renewed his grip on her hips, pulling her to him with every movement of his hips, burying himself to the hilt as his growls increased.

She shifted her weight onto one hand, sliding the other down her body to where they joined, seeking her clit eagerly. Knowing her body, Ororo manipulated the nubbin quickly, more roughly than he had. His answering growl told her he could feel her body’s reactions.

Completely unaware of anything, save him, she forced herself to the brink for the second time, screaming his name into the winds as he arched rigidly behind her. He did not speak as he released inside of her, not that she would have heard him.

Second climax thrice as strong as the first, Ororo collapsed under him, eyes closed and body boneless. She felt the bed shake as he dropped beside her, heedless to the wind’s call for order.

“’Ro?” he said thickly a moment later.

Unable to move, she did not respond, basking in the glow of being completely satisfied.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna tear the mansion down around our ears.”

She felt a chuckle escape her lips, and reached for him. Logan rolled her over gently, his tenderness a little surprising in the aftermath of such a thorough lovemaking.

Cradled to her lover’s chest, Ororo attempted to soothe the winds. She could feel him laughing as she fought for control. Setting her jaw, she finally shouted into her bedroom, doing a fair imitation of Logan’s growl.

“SILENCE!”

The wind, thunder, and lightning obeyed instantly, leaving her room silent, save for the labored breathing of the two mutants on her bed. Ororo turned into Logan’s chest, snuggling as close as she could. With her head against his breast, she could hear the frantic pace of his heartbeat.

“Well, didn’t expect that,” he muttered sleepily.

“Neither did I. You are a bad influence on me,” she teased, kissing his sweat-slicked flesh to take any sting out of her words.

“Someone has to be round here. I’ll have you swearin’, smokin’, and drinkin’ in no time,” he responded, smiling into her hair.

“I think not,” Ororo shot back, reaching for the blankets to cover them.

There was a pregnant pause before Logan spoke again, this time carefully, as though expecting retaliation.

“I’m not in love with ya, ‘Ro,” he said quietly. “But I think, maybe, I could.”

She did not reply for a few moments, threading her fingers into the thick hair of his chest, mulling over his words. There was no reason for anger, she had not expected confessions of undying love, offers of marriage, children, a home with a picket fence, a minivan and a golden retriever. Not from Logan. Truthfully, she did not want those things. She had responsibilities to her students, to this fight. That would always take precedence.

“I am not in love with you either,” she said at last. “Perhaps, one day, but certainly not now.”

Logan pulled her closer beneath the covers. She could hear him inhale deeply and smiled. She smelled like rain and he liked that smell. Sighing in his arms, she allowed sleep to carry her away, wondering what tomorrow would hold.

~@~

“A neon sign on your forehead would be subtler, darlin’,” Logan’s voice was filled with humor as Ororo attempted to comb her hair without grinning.

“You should speak, Logan. Wipe that smirk from your face or everyone will know!” she shot back, staring at him in the mirror as he dressed.

“It’s past noon already, ‘Ro. They know we’re up to somethin’,” he pulled a shirt over his chest and then set about buckling his belt.

Ororo tried, very hard, to keep the smile from covering her lips, but her face was not cooperating. Waking with him in her arms, knowing he had made it through at least one night without the bane of nightmares had been comforting. In the dark, he had reached for her twice. Once for comfort, and once for pleasure.

She had happily obliged on both accounts. Logan had surprised her, both with his restraint and his need to simply have her in his arms. It was the sort of thing she would have never expected and it was nearly unbearable the way she wanted to ignore the world to stay with him here.

“Beside that, ya whipped up one hell of a storm last night,” he continued, sitting on her bed to tie his boots.

Turning from the mirror, she pulled up her collar to hide the dark purple love bite on her collarbone, biting her lip against the flash of memory seeing it conjured. Logan already had a cigar between his teeth, pilfered from his own bedroom when he slipped out to retrieve clothing.

She did not mind the smoke, nor the thought that her room was to smell of it for days. It was his smell, a trademark that told her this was not a dream. He had been there, with her, all night. Taking a few steps to him, Ororo put her hands to his cheeks, drawing his face up to her.

His hands slid up to grasp her hips, pulling her a little closer. Ororo raised a brow at him, taking the cigar from his mouth and holding it out of the way as she stole a quick kiss.

“That’s mine,” he grumbled, nodding to the cigar.

“Yes, and it is a disgusting habit, my Logan,” she inflected his name gently, liking the way it sounded with that innocent “my” attached to it.

“How in hell did I get from Wolverine to “my Logan”?” he asked, raising a brow.

Ororo shrugged, slipping the cigar back between his teeth. “I do not know for certain, but I do hope we stay here.”

“Mmm. Me too,” he inhaled from his cigar, winking at her as he swatted her backside.
She yelped a little in surprise, succeeding in making him chuckle at the glare she leveled at him. Ororo stepped away, reminding herself that if she spent all day in her bedroom, wrapped around Logan, there would be talk. He stood as well, moving into her adjoining bathroom.

Taking her boots from under the bed, she pulled them on, looking up at Logan as he brushed his teeth. She tilted her head, taking in the masculine silhouette of his body, wanting to drool at what she now knew was underneath.

“’Ro?”

“Yes?” she snapped back to reality, shaking her head and tying her bootlace.

Logan turned the water of her sink off, lounging in the doorway of her bathroom. His face had a slightly confused look to it as she looked up.

“No lying,” he said softly. “I don’t want to broadcast this to everyone, but I don’t want you to have to lie.”

“Oh Logan,” she stood, crossing the room quickly to embrace him.

She heard him inhale sharply, as he did so often in her presence. Kissing his cheek, she smiled warmly, her hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

“Thank you. I am not one for publicity, but I do not wish to deceive anyone.”

“Good, now that’s settled. Come on, I’m starving,” he took her hand and pulled her to the bedroom door.

“Did you work up an appetite?” she teased with a bat of her lashes.

“Yeah, and I’m aimin’ to work up another one tonight,” Logan winked before he opened the door, sniffing quickly.

“Is the coast clear?” she whispered, taking her hand from his.

“Yeah. You go, I’ll follow,” he ducked back into the room, pulling her to his chest for another heart-stopping kiss before releasing her quickly.

“Mmm,” she hummed, not wanting to go. “I like your lips.”

Logan groaned, pushing her away. “Don’t do that, ‘Ro. We have to face them all sometime.”

With a giddy sigh, Ororo took her chance and fled the bedroom. Taking a moment to ensure she looked relatively calm, she headed for the stairs, trying to keep the grin from her face.

The kitchen was populated at this time of day, with the exception of Charles, everyone milled about the sunny room, chatting amicably. Rogue had the long-corded phone to her ear and was laughing at something the person on the line had said.

Jean and Scott were manning the stove while Kitty and Peter set the table. Bobby was waist-deep into the industrial size fridge. She tickled him as she passed, not able to contain the utter feeling of being sixteen Logan had given her.

“Yah did not! Ah can’t believe that, Kurt. That’s fantastic. Yeah….yeah…” Rogue laughed hysterically.

Storm walked up to the Southern girl, leaning over so that she could speak into the phone.

“Hello, Kurt,” she greeted, winking at Rogue.

“He says hello and he hopes you are well,” Marie said after a moment.

“I am, and he?”

“Fantastic!”

“Good.”

“Logan!”

Ororo turned when Logan entered the room, somehow managing to look grumpy, though she knew for a fact he was anything but. She winked at him quickly before squirming her way into place at the stove between Scott and Jean.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Jean said, looking over.

Scott remained silent, sending off warning bells in Ororo’s head. Scott always had something to say. She poked him in the side.

“Oversleep?” he questioned, keeping his face expressionless.

“In a manner of speaking,” Storm replied.

“What’s for lunch?” Logan asked, poking his head over Jean’s shoulder as he lounged against the counter, beer in hand.

“Shrimp Gumbo,” the telepath replied. “Peter got to choose today.”

Logan grunted, his eyes straying to Ororo. She glared at him. It was irrational, not wanting him that close to Jean, but given the history, she could not help it. She desperately wanted to grab Logan by the collar and kiss him thoroughly, letting Jean know she had lost her chance.

Coloring at the ridiculous turn her thoughts had taken, Ororo turned from the stove in time to see Rogue hanging up the phone, a pleased smile on her face. The young girl moved to Bobby, helping him set out drinks for the afternoon meal.

Henry looked at Ororo from his place at the table, raising a brow. She watched his eyes dart from Logan and back, obviously asking her if something was amiss. Grinning, she shrugged, moving around Jean and Logan to sit beside him.

“Are you well, my dear friend?” Henry asked in a soft voice.

“Quite,” she replied, taking the silverware from Peter and setting it down.

“You look…rested,” her friend said diplomatically.

“I did get a very good rest last evening.”

Henry snorted into his glass of lemonade, blinking at her owlishly. Ororo grinned at him again, just as Bobby looked over his shoulder.

“Storm, were you in a bad mood or something last night? That thunderstorm nearly took my window off.”

Henry and Logan choked on their respective drinks in unison, making Scott turn. Jean’s shoulders were shaking with what Ororo guessed was laughter. Obviously she had caught on. The others, however, looked from Beast, to Storm, and then Wolverine.

“Not a bad mood, no,” Storm said primly. “Every person, human or mutant needs a release now and again.”

Logan smirked quickly from the stove, covering it when Scott looked at him. Pointing a wooden spoon from Ororo to Logan, he frowned.

“I know you two have some sort of thing with nature and all, but I don’t want you getting out of hand with your moonlit romps in the woods. It’s dangerous, Storm, you know that,” their leader said, giving her a pointed look.

Storm took the glass of lemonade from Bobby, looking back to Henry, whom was shaking his head.

“All of that training and not a hint of common sense in that boy.”

“He will understand in time, my friend. And when he does, I am quite sure I will receive the lecture of lectures.”

Henry raised his glass to her. “Until that unfortunate occurrence, enjoy it, my dear.”

Ororo clinked her glass with his, smiling over her shoulder at Logan. “I will, my friend, trust me on that.”





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