Escaping the Past
Chapter 4
by
AnomalousGirl
This story contains characters that are the property of Marvel Comics and Fox Entertainment. This is in no way intended to be an infringement on their rights.
Alexa was on the sofa opening her mail when Logan joined her. When she glanced up, her mouth went dry at the sight of him. His jeans were zipped but not buttoned, and his shirt still hung loosely from his hand. The well-worn denim rode low on his lean hips, dragging a bit at the heels of his bare feet. With a concentrated effort she forced her attention away from the broad expanse of exposed torso, and moved her eyes upward to his face. His hair was still damp, but it already lay in the duel crests that it had when it was dry. Evidently it just grew that way. He had also taken the time to shave, though he had removed only the stubbly areas on his upper lip, chin, and a narrow path at the edges of his mouth, leaving the extensive sideburns that she believed use to be called muttonchops. They gave him a rather singular appearance, but one that she found quite attractive, and she longed to kiss the sensual mouth that they framed. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because he flashed her a devilish grin and sauntered over to sit on the sofa.
"What was that look for darlin'?" He asked in a mischievous tone. Once again the accursed blush rose in her cheeks, but she meet his wicked gaze.
"I was just admiring the view, and thinking what a pretty mouth you have."
"Pretty?" He asked dryly, one expressive eyebrow raised.
She leaned forward to place one hand on the hard warmth of his chest, and with the other she lightly traced the shape of his lips. "Oh, I think it's very pretty." She said provocatively, as she watched her path of her fingertip. He slid his hand under her hair and pulled her into a kiss. He smelled of shaving cream and his own tantalizing scent, and she reveled in the smoothness of his skin and the warmth of his mouth. With a little growl he pulled away. "I thought you wanted to eat first?"
Under her palm, she could feel that his heart rate had increased a little.
She sat back, tucking her feet under her and picked up her wineglass. "I do." She said with a little mischief in her own smile. "Would you like some wine while we wait?" She gestured with the glass to the wine bottle on the coffee table. Beside it was an empty glass and a small tray of cheese and fruit. "I had to eat something. I get crabby when I'm hungry, and believe me; you don't want to see me when I'm crabby."
"I'll keep that in mind." He replied with wry little smile.
She saw him frown a little as he poured himself a glass of the dark red wine. He tasted the wine cautiously and his expression turned to one of grudging approval.
"Not generally a big wine fan, hmm?" She asked, as he took another taste.
"Ahhh....no, not really. I'm more a beer kinda guy." He replied as he settled back on the sofa. "This ain't too bad though."
They chatted a bit about their drink preferences, and while he was clever and attentive, she got the impression that he wasn't normally given to small talk. When the doorbell finally rang, she suspected that his look of relief was not due entirely to hunger. She quickly stepped into the lounging pants and slipping her feet into a pair of heeled mules, she crossed to the door.
Etienne had sent his younger son with the delivery, and it suddenly struck her what a picture she and Logan must make. "Don't you have classes tomorrow, Paul?" She asked to cover her chagrin, as the young man placed the box on the dining room table.
"Not until the afternoon, so Pére had me chained to a prep table all night. I am so glad you called. If I'm lucky, by the time I get back, Richard will have everything cleaned up." He gave Logan a quick nod of acknowledgement. "Hey."
"Hey." Logan replied with an answering nod.
"Paul, this is Logan. He's an old friend of mine." It made her a little uncomfortable to lie, but it seemed better than the alternative. "Logan, this is Paul Chappelle. His father owns the best french provençal restaurant in Manhattan. Paul is studying to be anything that doesn't involve food."
"You got that right. Anyway Alexa, I gotta jet. He said if I stayed too long he'd have me on the dish machine all weekend." Alexa walked him back to the door, and as he turned back from saying goodbye to Logan, he wiggled his eyebrows and said something raunchy in French that Alexa hoped Logan didn't understand. She backhanded him sharply on the ribs, which only made him laugh. After she closed the door behind him, she turned to find Logan regarding her curiously. She chose to ignore it and went to unpack the food.
Due to the amount of food, she decided they should use the large, formal table rather than the bar that separated the main area from the tiny kitchen. Logan joined her as she began unpacking the box. She owed Etienne a big kiss. In addition to the dishes she had ordered, he had included a few surprises. One of which was a bottle of her favorite champagne. She quickly collected some necessary items from the kitchen, and when she returned, she found that Logan had pulled his shirt on and was doing up the buttons. She supposed she should be thankful for his manners, but found that she was actually a little disappointed.
The early part of the meal passed quietly, with both of them intent on the food. Their conversation consisted almost solely of her descriptions of the food and answers to his occasional questions. She was a little surprised to discover that she rather enjoyed the subdued atmosphere. Usually when she went out to dinner with a man, she felt compelled to keep up a stream of clever conversation. Not that she found that difficult by any means, but tonight the silences were relaxed, and it was nice to be able to just enjoy the food in a companionable atmosphere. She had ordered a number of different dishes for them to sample and share, and she had found it amusing to watch him as they had progressed through the courses. At first he had eyed the containers warily, but as they had worked their way through, his suspicion had changed to enthusiasm. And when he cut into a two-inch thick marbled steak that had been given only the barest introduction to the grill, she actually heard him groan with pleasure.
When they had both been reduced to picking at the remaining food on their plates, she caught his eye and smiled. "Part of me wants to just keep eating, but I know that if I do I'll be miserable."
"I was just thinkin' almost the same thing" He said returning the smile. "Everythin' was great."
"Why do you sound surprised?"
He shrugged. "I guess when I heard ya orderin' in French, I thought with as little as ya are, it was gonna be that kinda thing where they make a flower out of a carrot and a coupla green beans and call it dinner."
"You're thinking of nouvelle cuisine, and I'm not a big fan of that myself." She said with laughter in her voice. " This was Provençal cooking. Provence is a more rural part of France on the Mediterranean so the influences are much different and of course it is much hardier fare. And as you now know, I may be little, but I eat like a longshoreman."
"But yer manners are much better." He replied with a teasing smile.
"No no." She laughed. "Your line is, I like a woman with a healthy appetite."
"O' course I like a woman to have a healthy appetite, and all yer appetites seem very healthy to me."
He had leaned across the table a little and the seductive note in his voice sent warmth coursing through her and she had to look away. She heard him chuckle as he leaned away to reach for the wine bottle.
"That pub a regular hang out for you an' yer friends?" Logan asked as he divided the last of the wine between their glasses. He set the bottle next to the other two empties.
"We're there pretty much every Thursday evening. They're actually part of a doctoral studies seminar. The class meets from three to five, and then whoever wants to goes on over for a mentoring-bull session kind of thing."
He nodded a little. "That's pretty impressive, goin' for yer Ph.D. already." For a moment, she was at a total loss for what to say. Then the humor of the situation struck her, and she had to struggle not to laugh. She didn't want him to think she was laughing at him. After a couple of false starts she was finally able to speak. "Actually umm... I'm not one of the students. I'm...the instructor." She looked at him uncertainly, hoping that the misunderstanding wouldn't make him uncomfortable.
He stared at her for a moment with an unreadable expression. Then slowly one eyebrow rose and a little smile tilted up the corner of his mouth. It wasn't a smile of embarrassment or disbelief, but one of satisfaction. "Soo...that means that you've probably had yer degree for awhile then, eh?
There was an unspoken challenge in his eyes as he waited for her to answer, and for good or ill she couldn't resist rising to it. "I guess that would depend on which one you're talking about." She responded nonchalantly. When he merely raised the eyebrow again in reply, she leaned her chair back a little and took a silver business card case from a drawer in the sideboard. She pressed the catch and offered him a card.
"Dr. Alexandra DePascal, D.V.M., Ph.D., Diplomate A.C.Z.M., A.C.V.S, A.C.V.I.M. That's quite the alphabet soup ya got there."
"If you like that, you ought to see what they put after my name when I get invited to lecture."
"Let's see, D.V.M., that means yer a vet, right." She nodded. "And the Ph.D. means that ya have another degree that gets people to call ya doctor."
"Yes and no. I do have another degree, but in this case the Ph.D. refers to the one that I got with my D.V.M. degree. You can also be a veterinarian with a Masters or a B.S. I'll be nice and help you with the others. The first one stands for the American College of Zoological Medicine, which means I specialize in exotic animals as opposed to your usual domestic variety. The next one is the American College of Veterinary Surgeons, which is my sub-specialty. I do the usual vet stuff as well, but surgery is my raison d'etre. And the last one is the American College of Veterinary Internal Medicine, which for the sake of brevity, we'll say is concerned with the function of internal organs."
"How long did ya have to go to school for each one of those?"
"You don't usually go back to school for diplomate certifications. You work toward them professionally by doing research and writing very long papers. They also involve sitting for a board exam. You might sometimes take a post-grad class or two or do a mini course program, but in general it's the papers and the test."
"That's still pretty damn impressive. What were ya, some kinda wiz kid who graduated college at twelve or somethin'?"
"No, not at all." She said picking up the wine tool to occupy her hands. "Look; don't be too impressed, okay. It's really not that big of a deal."
He looked at the card, and then back up at her, flipping the card in his fingers so it faced her. "Not a big deal?"
She drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly through pursed lips. "Okay. Yes, I did work very hard, and I am duly proud of my achievements, but to be honest, I had a few aces up my sleeve so to speak. Mentally, I'm really pretty average. So...don't get too caught up in the intellect thing "
"Then how did ya get so far so young?"
She smiled a little. They were finally coming around to the point. "I'm not as young as you apparently think I am."
"What year were ya born?"
"You don't really expect me to answer that do you? A lady never reveals her age."
"That the same line ya give everybody else?"
"Pretty much."
"What about when they wanna celebrate yer birthday?"
"I tell them I'm 29. Just like I was last year, and the year before that, and the year before that..."
"Let's make an exception."
"Do you always have a problem with taking 'no' for an answer?"
"If I remember correctly, the last time I wouldn't take no for an answer, things turned out pretty well."
She had to laugh. "I guess you have a point there, but I'm still not going to tell you. However," She said before he could speak, "I will do you one better. I will answer the question that you are really asking."
"What question is that?"
"Give me your hand." She said as she laid her left-hand palm up on the table. "You're not scared are you?" She asked when his only response was a raised eyebrow. Leaning forward, he met her gaze and laid his hand on hers. She stroked her thumb across his palm. "I'll have to remember you're a sucker for a dare."
"Gets me in trouble all the time."
"You really do have sexy hands." She said as she explored the textures of his hand. "They're warm and strong and just a little bit rough, and you do such wickedly wonderful things with them." She looked up at him through her lashes, and he caught her hand firmly in his much larger one, bringing their linked hands up off the table. "And they're so big for a guy your size." She added in a high, empty-headed voice that made him chuckle.
"Like I haven't heard that one before. I think yer just tryin'' to distract me darlin'."
"That actually wasn't my intention, although I did manage to distract myself a little bit. I'll try to get to the point. By the way, did you know that this little ridge that runs down the center of each fingertip is a nerve? It's part of the highly developed sense of touch that humans have in their hands. If you try to take blood from there it doesn't bleed well and it hurts more."
She saw him frown as she brought the extended blade of the wine tool into his range of vision, but he didn't resist as she lowered his hand back to the table and pressed the tip of the small blade to the pad of his thumb. She lifted an eyebrow in silent question, and after a moment he shrugged dismissively with his own. With a flick of the sharp little blade, she made an off-center incision down the length of the pad. As the deep red blood welled up from the cut, she exchanged the knife for a cloth napkin without looking away, but before she could even bring the cloth near, the wound closed, leaving no scar and barely enough blood to trickle down his thumb. She smiled as she wiped the tiny stream away and ran her thumb across the now invisible incision site.
"That is truly amazing." Her smile faded a little as she lifted her eyes to his chilly expression. "Don't worry, I won't shirk my end of the bargain. Though compared to you, it's really not that impressive."
Laying her hand on top of the napkin, she picked up the tool and pressed the blade to the side of her own thumb. Then she looked up at him again. "I guess I should let you do the honors, but I am trying for equal depth." She angled her hand so he had a clear view and drew the blade quickly down her thumb. She let the blood flow freely for a moment, then pressed the cloth firmly to the incision. When she pulled it away the bleeding had slowed enough to allow him to see the wound as it closed. She had seen the process enough times in her life, so she chose to observe him instead. He watched intently as the edges of the cut drew slowly together from the inside out. After a few moments, all that was left was a narrow pink line. She offered him her hand, but instead of inspecting it more closely, he clasped it between both of his and brought his eyes up to meet hers. Moments passed as they held each other's eyes, each of them hiding their thoughts behind a carefully blank expression. She was the first to look away.
"Like I said, compared to you, it isn't that impressive. The scar will disappear completely in an hour or so."
"So when did ya figure it out?"
"Probably about the same time you did. When I was in the bathroom, I realized that I had your blood under my nails, which by the way I apologize for. I really felt bad about it, especially after you were so concerned about the couple of marks you put on me.
"Coupla marks! Didn't ya get a look at yerself in the mirror?"
"Not until I went to wash my face. I guess most of it had already faded by then." She laughed a little at his bemused expression. "Anyway, when I came back out, I thought at first you were annoyed about your back, but when you turned around, I saw that there wasn't a scratch on you. If that and the fact that you have the refractory time of a sixteen-year-old weren't enough, your ability to drink almost two bottles of wine without even getting tipsy might have given me a clue."
"You can hold the wine pretty well yerself, darlin'."
"That reminds me, there is a very nice bottle of champagne in the refrigerator calling my name."
Together they had cleared the table and quickly dispatched the remnants of the meal, but now that they were done, Alexa found herself at a loss for what to do. She could feel his eyes on her as she busily wiped the same area of the kitchen counter for the third time.
This was insane. She felt like a tongue-tied teenager, not an educated adult with more years and experience than she liked to think about, and the skip that his regard had put in her pulse wasn't helping. She thought up over a dozen little conversation starters, but discarded each one as sounding too trite, or to vain, or just too damn stupid. She was considering just throwing herself on him again when he stepped up behind her, bracketing her between his braced arms. She carefully rinsed out the sponge and picked up a towel to dry her hands. Scent and warmth radiated from him, scattering her wits and rendering useless any further attempt at thought.
"Thank you kind sir." She said as she turned to him with a smile that she belatedly feared was a little too bright. "You seem quite handy in the kitchen." She groaned mentally. Why did she suddenly feel like an actress in an unrehearsed play?
He gave her a puzzled look. "Everythin' okay?"
"Of course." She replied lowering her eyes to the towel she twisted in her hands. "Let's break open that champagne." She added and moved to take a step towards the refrigerator. His outstretched arm barred her way.
"Yer not scared of me, are ya' Lexa?"
She turned back to him in surprise, the feelings of uncertainty replaced by concern. "No, of course not." She laid her hand on his cheek. "Please don't think that. I enjoy being with you...a lot. I'm just...not used to having strange men in my kitchen."
He held her eyes for a moment as if to judge the truth of the statement, then he nodded once, his expression still sober.
She let her hand slide down to rest on his shirt. The soft flannel was warm beneath her hand and beneath it she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. "So, how about you?"
He gave a small shrug. "I ain't afraid a you either." This struck her as exceedingly funny and she leaned into his chest laughing, all her feelings of awkwardness melting away. When her fit of laughter finally subsided, she looked into his eyes to find a glimmer of amusement accompanying his one-sided smile.
"No silly, I meant tell me about yourself."
"Ain't much to tell."
"Of course not. I'm sure you've led quite the boring little life. Still living with Mom?"
He smiled a little at the jibe. "What is it ya wanna know?"
Well for starters, do you live here in Manhattan?"
"Nope." She continued to look at him expectantly, and after a moment of consideration, he sighed and continued. "Right now I'm stayin' up in northern Westchester County"
"No offense, but I wouldn't have pegged you as the Westchester type.
"None taken believe me. I'm workin' at a place up there and it's just easier t' live close, especially since they throw in a place t' stay."
"What is it that you do?" Again there was the pause, and she wondered if he would go for equivocation or an outright lie. She hated to be lied to and was considering withdrawing the question when he answered
"I teach at a boarding school." He continued to look at her evenly as he spoke and beneath her hand his heart maintained it's measured pace. He was either a very good liar or there was at least some truth to what he was saying. As unexpected as the answer was though, it didn't feel like a lie, mostly because it raised more questions than it answered. Even if it were the truth though, she would bet that it wasn't the whole story.
A sardonic expression began to creep across his features as she weighed the possibilities and as the moment stretched out he spoke again. "What's the matter, disappointed?"
She smiled a little self-consciously. "Not really, just surprised. I guess I pictured you doing something a little less...conservative
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Racecar driver, stuntman... black ops agent." The expression on his face still didn't change, but the muscles beneath her hand jumped ever so slightly and his heart sped up a fraction. Little things that a normal person would be unable to detect and proof of nothing, but interesting nonetheless.
He looked at her speculatively for a moment, then lowered his arms. "Didn't ya say somethin' about some champagne?"
She laughed and crossed to the refrigerator. After setting the bottle of champagne and a foil box that was tied with an organza ribbon on the counter, she reached into the cabinet for some glasses. "So what do you teach?" She asked as she started to remove the wrapper from the bottle.
"Mostly martial arts, and personal defense."
She nodded once. "Anything else?"
"I also teach Russian." He replied after a moment, a ghost of a smile playing around his mouth. "And sometimes I teach Japanese, but the kids don't usually stick with it fer long."
"It is a rather difficult language for westerners to learn."
"Anata wa Nihongo go wo hanasemasuku?" He inquired smoothly.
She laughed. "Only a couple of phrases that I learned for a trip a couple of years ago and what I pick up from the chefs at the sushi place."
"You eat a lot a sushi?"
"Oh yeah. Especially in the summer time. There's a great place down in the village. I try to get over there once a week or so. " She handed him a champagne flute.
"Can't remember the last time I had really good sushi."
"I'll keep that in mind." She smiled allusively as she offered her glass for a toast. He returned the smile and touched his glass lightly to hers.
"What's in the box?"
"Come on. I'll show you." She handed him the champagne bottle and led the way out of the kitchen, box in hand. She threw him a teasing glance over her shoulder. "So, martial arts and Russian, that's an interesting combination. What else do you teach? Introduction to automatic weapons? Fun with plastic explosives?"
"Well ya gotta do somethin' to keep 'em busy when it's rainin' outside."
She had intended to lead him back to the sofa, but he veered off toward the table and she followed, slightly perplexed.
Resting a hip against the table, he sat the bottle down and pick up her card from where he had left it. He studied her for a moment, absently flipping the edge of the card with his thumbnail. "What's with all the secret agent stuff. Ya got some James Bond fantasy yer dyin' to try out or somethin'?"
She leaned against the table beside him and laughed at the picture the suggestion brought to mind. "Not before this very moment, but since you mentioned it..." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he chuckled in response, though it seemed a little half-hearted.
"What role do you get t'play?"
She boosted herself up to sit on the table. There was a bit more gravity in his tone than she would expect considering the topic, but she decided to let it play out. "Hmmm, perhaps I am in possession of some secret information and you can use your highly developed sexual technique to torture it out of me. Or did all that talent just come naturally?"
This time his laughter was more genuine and it accompanied a wicked little smile that sent a pleasant ripple through the muscles in her abdomen. He stepped around so that he was facing her, his legs straddling hers slightly as he leaned forward on his braced arms.
"Vee have veys of making you talk." Logan's delivery of the corny B movie line made them both laugh, but he sobered again quickly, his eyes intent on her face, as though he were trying to solve a puzzle. To break the silence, Alexa picked the foil box up off the table and untied the ribbon. She lifted the lid to expose a dozen long stem strawberries covered in chocolate.
"Etienne has a brilliant pastry chef. She blends the chocolate for these herself." Alexa lifted one out by the stem and laid the box next to her on the table. She held the strawberry out, but moved it away with a small shake of her head when he started to raise his hand to take it. He lifted an eyebrow. She moved the strawberry in front of his mouth and opened her own slightly. After a moment, he opened his mouth a little, and then a little more after she demonstrated. She bit back a smile at the small frown that drew his brows together. She touched the chocolate to his lower lip, and felt a tiny thrill of desire as his sharp white teeth sank into the fruit. He had somewhat prominent canines that heightened the feral quality about him, and the memory of them grazing her skin left her feeling slightly breathless. She pulled her eyes away from his mouth to find him watching her. The frown had been replaced by a much warmer expression.
Logan reached out and lifted a strawberry from the box. He held it for her, but when she tried to bite it, he drew it away slightly. He did it a second time, mischief glinting in his eyes. He brought the berry close a third time, but she decided two could play at that game, so instead of trying to bite it again, she slowly extended her tongue and flicked it lightly across the chocolate. She was gratified by the faint growl that resonated in his throat. He drew the tip of the strawberry back and forth across her lower lip a couple of times, then brought it to rest in the center. He pressed down slightly, opening her mouth a bit further. Then he slid the strawberry slowly into her mouth and held it as she ate it in tiny bites. His eyes were dark and intense as he watched her catch an errant drop of berry juice with the tip of her tongue. Her body echoed the desire that she saw there, but it was a pleasant tingle of anticipation, not the sharp hunger that so often plagued her, and she wanted to make it last.
She smiled and reached for her glass. "Try one with the champagne." His eyes lingered on her a moment longer, then drawing a deep breath, he picked up his glass and drained it. Alexa observed him from under her lashes as he calmly refilled both their glasses. She appreciated his equanimity, and found that his willingness to let her set the pace only added to the desire stirring inside her.
He picked her card up again and studied it for a moment. "What's this?" He asked, indicating the logo displayed on the corner of the card.
"The Wildlife Conservation Society, that's who I work for. Among other things, the W.C. S. administers the Bronx Zoo and the Wildlife Centers in Central Park, Prospect Park, and Flushing Meadows. They also manage the New York Aquarium over on Coney Island, but I don't get over there much."
As she spoke, she reached out and began to slowly work her way down the buttons of his shirt. It had suddenly become a compulsion. During their conversation in the kitchen, the feel of the well-washed flannel beneath her hands, had sparked the memory of how good his bare chest had felt when she touched him, and now, almost of their own volition, her fingers had taken up the task.
"My office is at Bronx, and that's where I do most of my work, but it's not uncommon for me to be called to the other sites if something comes up. Actually I go over to Central Park quite a bit. I started out there and I like to keep an eye on my old friends."
He watched her for a moment after she stopped speaking to concentrate on the buttons. "Want some help with that?"
"No thank you." She replied without looking up from her task. When she had finished the last button, she laid her palms flat on his stomach, her thumbs brushing the waistband of his jeans. She slowly slid her hands upward, savoring the feel of his warm skin, and the hard muscle that lay beneath. She had never harbored a predilection for hirsute men before, but he could easily change that. When she reached his shoulders, she pushed the shirt off, guiding it down his powerful arms. She grasped it as it began to fall free and tossed it behind her on the table.
"That's better. I've been trying to think of a way to get rid of that shirt ever since you put it on."
"What's the matter with my shirt?"
"The shirt is fine. In fact the color combination is quite nice, and it looks quite comfy. It's kind of like this tablecloth." She paused, and he looked at her doubtfully. "It's a nice tablecloth, both attractive and practical, but underneath it, is an antique, hand carved mahogany table. It cost a small fortune, but it was almost exactly like the one my mother had when I was a child. It's absolutely gorgeous, but the unfortunate thing about mahogany is that it scratches very easily, so I keep it covered most of the time.
One evening after I'd had some friends over, I pulled off the good tablecloth, and when I went to put this one back on, it occurred to me, why the hell did I pay that much money for a damn mahogany table. I could have a slab of plywood sitting on pillars and who would know." She was entranced by her exploration of the muscle definition in his arms, and when she glanced up, she found him looking at her, slightly puzzled.
"I don't get it."
She shook her head with a small laugh. "That's because I'm babbling." She let her hands drift down to rest on his hips; her thumbs tucked into his low slung waistband. "I guess my point is, when something is this beautiful, it's seems almost criminal to keep it covered up."
It hadn't been her intention to embarrass him. In fact, had she thought about it, she wouldn't really have considered it possible, but for an instant after she spoke, consternation filled his unguarded expression. It was quickly transformed in to a look of wry amusement, but he was having a bit more trouble disguising the slightly darker hue that suffused his face. It made her wonder what else he kept hidden beneath that rough exterior. She pushed the thought reluctantly away.
He lifted his hand and began to lightly trace along the inside of her neckline. "So that's the way this game is played. If ya think somethin' is too fine to be covered up, ya just...uncover it, eh?" She smiled. It wasn't difficult to figure out where he was going. "In that case, I think we definitely need t' get rid of this."
The back of his knuckles brushed her through the silk as he leisurely made his way down the series of buttons. After releasing the last button, he slowly grazed the back of his fingers up the fabric. Skimming over the bottom curve of her breasts, he paused when he reached her nipples. They were already hard, straining forward in anticipation of his touch. He circled them several times, and her breath caught sharply when he at last brushed his thumbs across the firm peaks. Logan continued to tease them lightly through the material as he leaned forward to press his warm mouth to her neck. She let her head to fall back to give him better access to the sensitive skin. He shifted slightly and nudged her knees with a hard thigh. Alexa yielded willingly to the pressure, and he insinuated himself between her legs as they parted. A delicious languor stole through her as he slowly traced a path down the column of her neck, and she barely felt the silk glide down her arms as he made way for his questing lips. He captured one nipple in the wet heat of his mouth, and a small sigh escaped her. It grew into a ragged moan as he opened his mouth wide to fill it with her soft flesh. Desire spiraled through her as the pressure of his mouth increased, intensifying until it trembled on the razor edge between pleasure and pain. It hung there for a moment, arresting her breathing, and causing her nails to rasp across his lower back. Her breathing returned in shallow pants as he slowly released her pulsing breast.
She wrapped her legs around him as he turned his attention to the other nipple. Once again pleasure escalated until it hovered precariously on that dangerous edge. This time though, after freeing her from the exquisite torment, he took a quick mouthful of the champagne and drew the distended peak back into his mouth. The cool effervescence was both shocking and soothing to her sensitized flesh, and the surprise of it made her squeal. She felt Logan chuckle in response and opened her eyes to find him watching her. He held her gaze as he slowly swallowed the champagne, the heat of his mouth quickly overcoming the brief chill. She shuddered. There was something almost predatory in his heavy lidded expression, and it added a further kick of adrenaline to her already spirited pulse.
He released her nipple with a faint succulent noise and straightened. Their eyes remained locked as he leaned in to kiss her, closing only at the moment of contact. He slid his hands down her arms and lightly grasped her wrists. After bringing them above her head, he held them both easily in one hand, and brought the other to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck. The kiss deepened as he pressed himself against her, tugging gently at her hair. His actions had taken Alexa a little off guard, and for a moment she resisted. He continued to urge her back with light, steady pressure, his skillful mouth persuading her to relax. As he guided her down to the table, the increasing angle parted their lips and brought her coupled hands to rest behind her head.
When she was fully reclined, he released her wrists and hair to trail his hands down her body. His midnight hair had fallen forward, tickling lightly across her skin as he licked his way across the plane of her stomach. The muscles of her abdomen rippled in response, and he looked up, the deep blue of his eyes brilliant through the fringe of hair. His mouth slowly curved into a roguish smile as he reached for his champagne. Carefully he tipped the glass to form a small puddle in the hollow below her ribs, then lowered his head and drank. The sensation was incredible, and she hummed with pleasure as he continued to lap at her wine damp skin.
"I think I could learn t' like this champagne."
She laughed breathlessly in response. His deep voice was even huskier than before, and it seemed to resonate through her, mingling with the desire curling within her and changing it into need.
The soft laughter changed unexpectedly to giggles as he unceremoniously slid her further onto the table, only to tug the lounging pants free, and haul her back to him by the ankles. Her giggling intensified when he created another champagne puddle in the shallow depression above her pubic bone. He avidly chased the escaping rivulets across her stomach and hips, managing to tickle and arouse her at the same time. The laughter was altered once again; this time into a throaty purr as his motions became more deliberate.
With small flicks of his tongue he sketched the line where smooth skin gave way to fur, trailing over her hipbones downward to the juncture of body and thigh. She tilted her hips upward in unconscious invitation, surprised to find anticipation surging through her. It had been nearly a score of years since she had allowed anyone this degree of familiarity. Though even when her life had been different, she had never really understood other women's enthusiasm for oral recreation. It wasn't that she found it unpleasant, although there had been a few occasions in which it had engendered more annoyance than pleasure. Generally though, she had simply been too impatient to enjoy what she had viewed only as an unnecessary delay. Whether it was the intervening years or the fact that they had already assuaged enough of her hunger she didn't know, but the reality was that she felt almost giddy at the prospect of his mouth on her. She didn't have long to wait.
As she had come to expect from his rather brash nature, there was nothing tentative about his approach. After sliding his hands up her inner thighs, he parted her with his thumbs and brought his mouth to her waiting flesh. He began by drawing his tongue the length of her moist lips in one smooth, firm motion. The sensation exploded through her, and she arched into his mouth. Logan held her and continued lapping at her succulent folds until her entire body trembled.
She brought her hands down to burrow through his thick dark hair. It was thick and springy to the touch, adding yet another dimension to the intoxicating sensations eddying through her. Alexa closed her eyes and gave herself over to his skillful touch, allowing no thought to interfere with the mounting wave of passion
Soon though, there was a thought that would not be silenced. Simply put, that thought was more. She wanted more. Rapture was becoming tinged with frustration as her body began to ache for something that his mouth could not provide. Her cries took on a desperate edge as she tried in vain to engage his touch more deeply.
Just as the thought of pulling him up on the table and putting an end to the torture began to solidify, he took pity on her. His quiet growl of satisfaction echoed her own as her body clutched greedily at the fingers he eased inside her. Her frustration was transformed into ecstasy as he sought out and found that miraculous little nerve bundle that lay just behind her pubic bone. The rhythmic pressure combined with the continuing magic of his mouth swirled her into a vortex of sensation. It spun away reason and inhibition, leaving only a mindless hunger that consumed her. With her last coherent thought, she freed her hands from his hair and slammed her palms flat on the table. As wave after wave of delirium swept over her, her hands twisted into the tablecloth, pulling it taught around her as she arched into the maelstrom.
As the storm subsided, tension drained from her body. Moments passed as she simply lay there, staring blindly at the ceiling, the sound of her exultation still ringing in her ears. She could feel his eyes upon her as he continued to stroke her gently. He had lifted his mouth just before she became hypersensitive, a further testament to his considerable expertise.
"You okay?"
She nodded dreamily, and then smiled as she heard him chuckle softly.
Logan began to slowly withdraw his fingers from her, and a throaty sigh escaped her as her body contracted in an effort to stay their departure.
He paused for a moment. Then even more slowly slid them back inside with a slight twisting motion. The sigh thickened into a purr. Despite the intensity of the orgasm he had just given her, she could feel the need for him building inside her again, and she was acutely aware of his breathing as it became increasingly rough and uneven, an erotic counterpoint to the smooth motions of his hand. Abruptly the magic ceased, and he jerked her upright. His eyes were storm dark, and a low growl rumbled from his chest as he crushed his mouth to hers. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she slid from the table, relishing the feel of the hard length of him through the denim. When her feet touched the floor, she tried to continue her descent, but her refused to relinquish her mouth, skimming his hands down to cup her ass to keep her from slipping downward. She let her hands continue the journey alone. Freeing him from the now tight confines of his jeans, she groaned at the delicious feel of him in her hands. With a guttural sound, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away. She tried sliding downward again, but he neatly folded her arms behind her back and hauled her tightly against him, effectively immobilizing her.
She gave him a seductive little pout. "I just wanted to return the favor."
A shudder ran through him as he shut his eyes. He opened them with a shake of his head. "Not this time. It's way too late for playin' games." He growled again as she trailed her tongue up one massive bicep and bit him on his shoulder. "Damn it. If ya don't stop, I'm gonna end up makin' what I did to ya earlier look mild."
She looked up at him through her lashes. "Promise?"
"Ya don't know what the hell yer askin' for."
"Why don't you try me?" She whispered against his shoulder, then bit him again, hard this time, stopping just shy of breaking the skin.
He snarled viciously and shoved her away, his shoulders rising and falling sharply with his breathing. When he spoke his voice was hoarse with restraint. "If I lose control this time Lexa, there's a damn good chance I'll end up hurtin' ya, and I don't want that to happen."
The force of the shove had driven her back several steps, and she moved forward slowly as she spoke. "I don't want you to hurt me Logan. I just want you to let both of us be what we are. You were more right than you knew when you said we were alike." She held out her hand and glanced briefly at the nearly invisible mark on her thumb. "Even more than this. You look at me and see some fragile little thing that you think you need to protect. You of all people should know better." He had begun to relax a little and something like a smile tugged at his lips. She smiled in return. "I'm pretty damn hard to break. A few people have put some serious effort into it and I'm still here. Believe me when I tell you that if you don't want to hurt me, then you wont. "
She was close enough now to rest her hand on his chest. "Just once I want to know what it feels like to just... let go and know that the other person is as lost as I am."
Alexa threw him a challenging smile to hide her sudden feeling of vulnerablity. What had come over her? She never revealed herself like this. Logan took a step toward her, and she straightened her arm, grinning at his look of surprise when she brought him up short. In a true test of strength she would never be able to best him, but it was nice to show him that she was stronger than she looked. "Oh, one more thing, just so we don't have to stop for a lot of false alarms. On the off chance that you do something that I really don't like, I'll say 'ouch'. Anything else means your good to go." She backed away as she spoke, flashing him a thumbs up at the end. His mouth curved into a wicked smile, and he reached for her. Laughing, she spun and sprinted for the bedroom.
******************************************************
Alexa drifted through the pleasant hazy land between sleep and wakefulness. Her mind touching lightly over thoughts and emotions, drawing further away from the physical realm. The unfamiliar presence of the man beside her functioned as an anchor though, preventing her from slipping away into the arms of Morpheus. She didn't mind. She rather liked it here. It was peaceful. The same could not always be said of dreams.
Slowly her mind explored the information filtering in through her senses. The air was a rhapsody of mingled scents, sex and sweat, wine, the night air, and him. The taste of him still lingered in her mouth. Logan... the name purred through her mind. He lay beside her, their bodies touching only at their linked hands, and for a while she just focused on the tranquil sound of his deep, even breathing. Sleep had overtaken him almost immediately after their final climax, and she'd had a brief taste of how crushing his weight could be before he'd levered himself off, collapsing onto his back next to her. An unexpected feeling of contentment had stolen over her when his hand had sought out her own. He had been radiating heat like a blast furnace, and the gentle hand clasp had been an appealing alternative to pressing against him with her own overheated flesh.
Beneath all of the other sensations was the background noise of her healing factor as it tidied up. She smiled. Logan had certainly taken her at her word. It had been a gloriously wild ride, with each of them inciting the other's feral nature to the point of madness. He had shown that he had vigor and stamina to spare, and he certainly knew his way around a body. She giggled mentally, not to mention a body that you wanted to get to know your way around.
The aftermath had left her pleasantly achy and a more than a little tender; quite the bargain for the long list of fantasies fulfilled. Especially when she knew that morning would find her as good as new. And indeed, morning would find her soon enough. She knew without looking at the clock that it was well past midnight, and her body hungered for sleep. The voice of vigilance however would not be silenced. She hesitated for a moment, then slid open a tiny window of consciousness. A whole new assortment of perceptions streamed into her mind.
It was difficult now to believe that she had been unaware of his mutation. Although to be fair, by the time she'd had any skin to skin contact with him, all other impressions had paled in comparison to the desire emanating from him. His body was quiet now. In fact, he fairly oozed satisfaction. She smiled again. The same could be said for her. Without the interference of their combined lust, it was obvious that he was in impossibly perfect health, lacking even the natural degenerations that occur as humans age. He did however harbor an anomaly or two somewhere, but she clamped down on her curiosity before it could go questing. That wasn't why she was here.
She narrowed her concentration, skimming along his neural pathways to his spinal column, and then upward. Her awareness passed through the foramen magnum, and she pulled herself up sharply. As tightly as she had tried to focus her search, she was picking up substantial anomalies here, and her instinctive drive to seek them out was rebelling.
Alexa breathed deeply. Ability does not equate justification. She chanted it over and over in her mind. While she was quite certain that going on recon through his gray matter would be fascinating, it was nevertheless wrong. It was difficult enough justifying this little excursion at all, but it was a case of either allaying her fears, or asking him to leave. She felt pathetic at realizing just how much she wanted him to stay, even if it was only to sleep beside her for a few more hours. It would only take a few seconds she told herself.
Locating a telepathic nexus required speed and precision. It was not one of her natural abilities, but an adaptation that she had cultivated to survive. If there were one, it would of course be in the frontal lobe. With pinpoint concentration she navigated her way through the hind and mid-brain, her inquisitive nature nearly weeping at the opportunity she was passing by. He stirred a bit, and she paused. It was unlikely that he could be aware of her presence, though considering how much else they had in common, nothing was impossible. She sent out a peripheral sensor. He was deep in R.E.M. sleep, but didn't seem to be having a good time. His respiration was picking up, and she could feel his muscles tensing. Bad dreams, she thought wryly, add another similarity to the list. She gently nudged him into a deeper, dreamless state, smiling as she felt the tension leave him. That should make up for this little transgression. If only there was someone who would do the same for her.
She refocused with a little sigh and sent a sensory burst through his forebrain. Jumping synapses nearly as fast as his own impulses would, it raced outward and then back again. In less than a heartbeat she had her answer. There was nothing to find. We'll that wasn't really true. There was a lot there, so much so that it her curiosity screamed in frustration. There was however none of the telltale neural development usually found in telepaths. She really hadn't expected to find any, but as they say, once bitten... Her senses would warn her if there were any physical threat, but telepaths were insidious. She didn't trust them as far as she could punt their severed heads.
With her mind at ease, weariness swept over her and she broke the link. Her body had cooled, and she felt the night air drifting in through the open window. The rain that had threatened on and off all day had finally arrived and far below she could hear the rush of tires on wet pavement. She shifted closer to his inviting warmth. With a rumbling sigh, he freed his hand from hers, but before disappointment could settle in, he surprised her by sliding it around her and pulling her to his side. Gradually she relaxed against him, nestling her head into the hollow of his shoulder. He murmured something unintelligible as he nuzzled his cheek against her hair, claiming the hand she had laid on his chest with his own. He was a snuggler; who would've guessed? She took a deep breath to ease the sudden tightness in her chest, telling herself it was suppressed laughter.
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