An Evening at the Opera
by
Zerelda X
Logan belongs to Marvel. Charlotte is mine. For entertainment purposes.
Rated NC-17 for adult situations/themes.
Charlotte rushed up the steps of the opera house, her mouth pressed into a fine line. She stopped at the door and looked back at Logan, her hands on her hips. "If we miss the opening scene, I will be pissed," she said through clenched teeth.
Logan took his time, grinning at her. "Relax, darlin'. We got plenty o' time." He pushed open the door and motioned her inside. It wasn't his fault that the last minute practice came up, or that he'd gotten into an argument with Gumbo. It was a damned shame he agreed to be ready by seven, and just didn't make it until 7:30. They would've had plenty of time to make the opening curtain. They still might've made it. Darlin' wasn't amused at all.
Not that he minded missing any part of the show. He hated the opera. He was just going because Charlotte asked him to go with her. It was the last one of the season, and because of him she'd missed a few performances. Season tickets weren't useful unless someone actually occupied the seats.
She'd been looking forward to it all week. How she could stand it, he'll never know. Hank explained it to him once, about how music and live entertainment was all that was available when she was young, but it really hadn't sunk in. It was still something he'd have to sit through and hope he either fell asleep, or there were sexy women on stage to look at.
Besides, he had a reputation to live up to. The best at what he did, even when it wasn't very pretty. This had to qualify. The things he did to make his woman happy. There ought to be some special reward for men like him. Like in Monopoly. A 'get out of the opera free' pass.
An usher showed them to their seats just as the lights dimmed. Lucky them, it was in the back on the far left. No one noticed them sitting down at the end of the row.
"Almost like a movie theater," he whispered in her ear. "Wanna neck?"
~Hush,~ she sent to him, settling in as the orchestra began the opening bars of the music and curtain rose.
~*~*~*~*~
The intermission had come and gone. Logan elbowed his way through the crowd to the bar, glad to find he could actually get a beer. Imported crap, but he managed to choke down six while Charlotte sipped on a soda. They had barely enough time to finish them before the lights flickered for the second half.
She'd been in a daze the whole performance, her enjoyment of it obvious by the soft humming along with the arias, the soft sighs with the drama of the story. Logan half wished he felt the same, but he didn't. He was bored to tears. He really didn't like it, and it wasn't even in English, but he wanted to be with Charlotte. Hopefully she'd like it enough to forgive him for almost making them late.
She was worth looking at, though. He didn't often see her dressed up, but she did clean up nice. In fact, she was damned beautiful. The deep hunter green silk looked good with her hair, and it was cut low enough to do things for him. Her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding on stage, her mouth moving as she sang silently along with familiar song passages. He watched her lips glimmer in the glow from the stage lighting.
His eyes slid down to her cleavage. Her bodice was low enough he could tuck a stogie in there. If there had been more privacy, and more room, he'd be on his knees with his nose buried in her soft skin. She could watch all the operas she wanted, if he could assume one of his favorite positions.
But he couldn't. He could touch her arm. Running his finger inside her arm, he was rewarded with a shiver. Then she turned her head and smiled, a soft, sensuous smile that sent tingles down his spine. Unexpectedly, he felt the blood surge in him and his body react. He shifted in his seat, sure that everyone in the place knew he had a hard-on, but no one was looking at him. All eyes were on the stage.
He didn't usually react to her like that over a smile. Or rather, when she gave him that smile, he could react by whisking her away to a more private place. Whatever it was, he needed to release it, and he couldn't wait for the end of the opera to do it.
Noticing her shiver again, he leaned towards her, casually putting his hand on her knee. Charlotte immediately shifted against him, hugging his arm in her own.
After a moment, Logan spread her coat over her legs, carefully tucking it over her lap. Then he slid his hand under her coat and found her thigh. Still no reactions from her, other than her head resting on his shoulder. The spot he'd chosen to rest his hand was one of his favorites.
~You okay?~ she asked.
"Just watch the show," he murmured back, inhaling her scent and brushing the hairs around her ear with his lips. Charlotte looked at him curiously, then went back to the music. She didn't always understand what was going on in his head, and she didn't need to know every little thing. She did know he didn't like opera, but was glad he came along. She preferred to have an escort. And besides, it felt good to have him with her. She snuggled closer to him.
After a bit, Logan began to stroke up and down her thigh. Charlotte started to protest, but it caught in her throat when she saw the gleam in his eyes. A tiny smile played across her face when she realized what he was up to. She knew she should stop him, but she loved the touch of his hands too much.
His fingers reached the hem of her dress and slid up the inside of her leg. Just as he liked, she wore stockings rather than pantyhose. Thank god she hated panty hose. His pulse skipped a beat as he found bare flesh. Her thighs parted slightly as he rubbed a finger along the silky material of her panties. Maybe it was just him, but he found panties sexier than thong underwear. He could get a look at naked and near-naked women any day, but sometimes all it took to jump start him was an old fashioned garter belt.
Charlotte swallowed as she felt her body react instinctively to his touch. She made sure her coat was covering her lap, quickly scanning around them for eavesdroppers. The man next to her was gently swaying to the music.
She was no longer listening. Logan's fingers were tracing circles at the tops of her thighs, and she was lost in a haze of sensation. She opened her legs wider, pushing her hips forward in the seat.
Logan smirked to himself and slid his fingers past the lacy edge of her underwear to tangle in soft curls.
She caught her breath. ~Logan!~ she sent urgently. She didn't know how she could stand this, but she didn't want him to stop, either. Anyone could turn around and see her twitching on her seat. An ache inside her demanded to be assuaged.
He burrowed a finger deeper, noticing her breasts seemed fuller now, nipples hard against the thin fabric. He could taste them in his mouth. Using his thumb, he teased her more intimately, fondling her towards climax.
Charlotte knew she could not react. It was perhaps the hardest thing she'd ever not done. Logan was setting her on fire. If they were somewhere else, she could rip at his clothes and impale herself on him.
The muscles of her abdomen spasmed as she struggled not to cry out. She hid her face behind his shoulder, sure that if anyone saw her they'd know what was going on. She trembled as his fingers danced on her, the sensations exploding in her soul as she came. Her eyes squeezed shut, she bit down on his evening jacket, desperate to muffle her moans.
Her shoulders slumped just as the music swelled for the final song. She'd made it to a finish not far ahead of the opera. She sighed as Logan carefully extracted his hand. Looking at him through hazy eyes, she saw him grin evilly at her, his nose twitching at the scent of her on his fingers. He leaned close to whisper. "I think I'm startin' ta like the opera."
Charlotte wiped her eyes around a soft chuckle, then noticed the older gentleman to her right offer her a tissue.
"It's okay, dear," he said kindly. "I always cry at this one, too."
"Thank you," she managed to say, dabbing her eyes with the tissue, hiding the high color on her cheeks. Looking down, she saw her chest and arms were flushed as well.
Gathering her coat and purse, and her husband, she urged Logan out of his seat and towards the exit.
"I can't believe you did that," she whispered, confident he'd hear her clearly. "Don't think you'll get away with that, Logan. I'll get you back."
Logan allowed himself to be tugged out by his jacket sleeve, a lustful expression on his face. Outside in the night, he swept her close for a bruising kiss, pressing her hips against his. "I'm countin' on it, darlin'," he said in a husky voice.
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