Sunburn
By:vangiekitty
Logan/Jean pairing
R-NC-17
Disclaimer: not mine.

So this is what it comes down to- lost in the desert, stranded, alone...

'Oh get over it Jean and stop being so melodramatic,' she tells herself, shaking back her shoulder length auburn shag in aggravation. After all, she's the one who dropped the only communicator they had on a nearby rock thereby shattering the delicate mechanism beyond hope of repair. And Jean knows that just as soon as the professor comes back from his week long trip out of the country that he'll find them with Cerebro easily enough. It's unfortunate that her telepathy isn't quite strong enough to contact the others who will doubtless just assume that she and Logan are maintaining radio silence in case someone might be listening in. It is, after all SOP in most of these missions. So they're only *temporarily* stranded.

And she's not alone either since Logan is with her and he assures her that they are not lost. He pointed out, sensibly enough, Jean assumes, that they might as well continue with the mission. Even minus their transportation and the communicator they should be able to find what they're looking for. He assures her he will be able to smell it when they come to it. Jean fervently hopes he's telling the truth and not just being macho. Like Scott refusing to stop and ask for directions whenever they take a road trip. But she doesn't want to start thinking in that direction... too depressing.

So to recap, she's not lost (hopefully), not stranded or at least not for long, and not alone since Logan is with her. They are in the desert, or at least it's hot, dry, sandy and deserted- close enough in Jean's estimation. But that's as far as it goes.

She watches the broad back of her silent companion as Logan moves tirelessly across the barren landscape in front of her. Despite the large pack he is carrying, his muscular shoulders are still visible. Logan has pulled down the upper part of the black leather X-man jump suit and knotted the empty sleeves around his waist leaving his upper body bare except for a black tank top, a move which Jean envies but refuses to copy since she has only a thin white t-shirt with no bra on under her suit. She never wears a bra under the suit. Too damn many layers and it's not like you can see anything under that thick black leather anyway. Things are still tense between her and Logan despite his tactic acknowledgement that she's with Scott; Jean doesn't want to throw fuel on the fire by showing off her not inconsiderable assets right now. Besides, she's self conscious- not really comfortable in her own skin. She envies Logan that- though his memories still elude him he seems wholly comfortable with his body- it's a machine, functional, and he makes it work for him instead of constantly wondering if it's good enough. Or at least that's how it seems to Jean, toiling away behind him carrying a pack half as big as his (at his insistence) and yet still sweating like a dog in her leather suit.

 Jean couldn't understand why the Professor insisted that Logan come with her on this particular mission instead of Storm or Scott although she's kind of glad in a way that it wasn't Scott... he would have been whining immediately as soon as the black Hummer they were driving broke down and they were forced to walk. Logan had simply looked under the hood and pronounced that the block was cracked. Even Jean knows that means the car is dead or as good as. So they gathered the supplies they had brought and decided to hoof it since they had broken down not too far from the area they were trying to reach anyway. Jean runs a hand over her sweating forehead. Storm might have been useful. At least she could have whipped up a rain storm to cool them down and there wouldn't be this sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife either... Jean sighs, wonders how Logan feels about coming and what he's thinking about. She had a theory that most men probably think a lot like animals- you know- food, sex, sleep, fight. Like that- just primitive. Men like the Professor and possibly Hank who's always got his nose buried in a book and his eyes glued to a microscope are the exception, not the rule.

God, but it's hot. Jean moans silently to herself. The damn suit is a sweat box and she's sweltering in it. Her thoughts can no longer distract her. The black leather is specially treated to act as a kind of body armor; in fact, it's nearly twice as strong as the standard Kevlar, the bullet proof vests that cops wear on the street. But you don't make a suit that's both fashionably sexy and amazingly strong and durable without giving up something. In this case it's comfort. The black X-suit doesn't exactly breath very well- in fact it doesn't breath at all. Jean spends a while wishing for a nice, loose fitting cotton X-man uniform made especially for missions like this. Missions in the freaking desert...even swilling water like crazy she can still feel herself dehydrating by the minute and the sun hasn't even reached it's zenith yet. Logan is looking around and sniffing the air, looking suspiciously lost, and Jean is beginning to wish they'd just waited by the Hummer until help arrived, even if it took a solid week. Her head suddenly feels very light and the sky looks wavy and weird; Jean blinks sweat out of her eyes, wonders if it's some kind of an optical illusion from all the heat...

When she goes down, she goes down hard in a boneless heap. Her last thought is that the ground feels soft, like feather pillows so why didn't she lay down hours ago? Then everything faces to black.

---

"Jean? Jeanie? You OK? Hey Red, wake up and tell me you're alright."

A muscular arm cradles Jean's shoulders, her head lolling back against a rock solid shoulder as a damp cloth is being wiped gently along her feverish forehead and flushed cheeks. Logan's worried face hovers above her own, eclipsing the sun which still shines down fiercely overhead. The sunlight makes his hair a wild red/black nimbus around his dark face and his changeable hazel eyes are an intense forest green just now. Jean shakes her head groggily. She can't have been out for more than 10 minutes.

"...'m OK," she hears herself mumbling, although she really isn't sure if she is or not. But she's not about to admit otherwise, to admit to being weak especially in front of Logan. Although being this close to him is kind of nice... and kind of uncomfortable. He smells like clean sweat and leather and a mixture of spices that are uniquely and ineffably masculine and Logan at once. For a brief instant Jean wants to lean closer and... do what? Lick him, kiss him, something... Logan's nose twitches as she looks up at him and she wonders if she smells half as good to him as he does to her. Judging from the look on his face maybe even better although that's hard to believe, the way she's been sweating. Better to get away from the temptation than find out. She attempts to sit up, fails and attempts it again with better results. Logan lets her although she can tell from the disapproving look on his face that he thinks she ought to just lie still a while.

"What happened?" Jean asks, unwilling to believe she really fainted. Maybe she was hit on the head somehow? She feels her head for lumps and feels nothing but damp auburn hair.

"You blacked out, probably from heat exhaustion." Logan says, dashing her hit-on-the-head theory to pieces. "Ya can't just go trampin' around the desert in full uniform, Darlin'. These damn things aren't built for this kind of weather. Somebody oughta tell Chuck we need something a little lighter for missions in this kind of climate. Why don't ya just peal off the top half like I did? You'll be a helluva lot more comfortable that way."

Jean sighs in frustration. She can see now that she'll have to do as Logan suggests although she certainly doesn't relish the sexual innuendo that is sure to follow, Logan rarely misses an opportunity to ogle her body and often makes lascivious comments to go along with the hungry looks he throws her way. It's annoying yet flattering but somehow today Jean just isn't in the mood for it. The situation is too tense- and there's no one else here to diffuse the tension. She's not sure if she's mad at him or herself or both but suddenly she's just this side of furious.

"Alright, fine," she says, her tone brusque with suppressed emotion. With jerky motions she unbuttons the top and zips down the suffocating black leather sheath, peeling the layers away from her thin white t-shirt, sweated nearly though and clinging to her full breasts. Her nipples peak immediately. Even the desert air seems to cool compared to the heat generated inside the suit. Jean watches Logan's eyes flick down to her breasts and hastily, almost guiltily away.

"Satisfied?" she asks him roughly. "I didn't want to pull down the top part of my suit because I'm not wearing a bra. A fact which is now abundantly obvious, OK?"

"So you'd rather risk a heat stroke than have me lookin' at you, is that it?" It is Logan's turn to be angry.

"Well guess what, Red, if ya don't want me ta look just say so. I can control my urges. I'm not some kind of an animal no matter what you may think of me." Logan's face is dark with anger and some other emotion Jean can't name. He stands abruptly and turns away.

Jean scrambles clumsily to her feet, her vision wavering alarmingly for an instant before it settles as Logan shoulders his huge pack again. The sleeves of her X-suit flap behind her like a black shadow she can't get rid of. She feels stupid and petty. Also guilty because his animal reference makes her think of her food-sex-sleep-fight man thoughts of a while ago. She had been classifying Logan in the animal category along with Scott and most other men she knows. To be honest, he's always seemed quite a bit more animalistic to her even than most men- it seems a large part of him is a beast that has no words. But it seems he resents that kind of assumption and Jean has to admit it's not really fair to him considering how well she knows him, which isn't very. She wants to make amends; he looked so genuinely worried about her just a minute ago which is probably what put her on the defensive. Jean doesn't particularly like to feel weak and if someone's worried about you it must mean you're not strong enough to take care of yourself, right?

"Logan, wait..."

She reaches out and lays a hand hesitantly on one broad shoulder taking a minute to realize how white her own pale hand looks against his dark skin, getting darker by the minute no doubt in this punishing sun.

"What do you want, Jean?" He stays facing away from her, his skin quivering under her touch, twitching like a nervous horse, or maybe a bull in the pen about to be ridden...

"I want you to turn around and look at me." Jean tells him.

"Thought you didn't want me lookin' at you," he says, but turns around anyway, slowly, almost reluctantly and keeps his eyes fastened firmly on her face despite the near transparent t-shirt clinging to her breasts when he does.

"Look, it's not that. Not that I didn't want you looking at me so much as that... well... it's just me. I'm not really comfortable showing this much... not just in front of you, to anyone I mean. I guess I just don't like the way I look enough to wear anything this revealing. OK?"

He gives her an incredulous look, allows his eyes to rake her body, just once and an expression of something which might be lust but probably comes closer to sheer hunger passes over his face and is gone in and instant replaced with a carefully neutral expression.

"If you say so, Red although if ya don't mind me asking, what's not to like?"

'Ask Scott,' she almost says but bites it back in time and makes a lame explanation about women being less comfortable with their bodies than men. Logan nods although he is clearly unbelieving. Jeans realizes in frustration that he still thinks she just doesn't want him looking at her that way. Why are men so utterly incapable of understanding female insecurities? She wishes she could read his mind without being obvious but she can't. His expression clearly says, 'OK, you're with Scott and you don't want me eyeing his goods. Point taken.' And that isn't what Jean wants at all, is it? Because that one brief moment of hungry lust in Logan's eyes did more for her ego than the last 6 months with Scott have done, hell, the last 6 years. But eventually she trails off and he shrugs and turns away. Discussion over and on with the mission. Logan sniffs the air purposefully and heads off in a more definite direction and Jean follows, sweating the thin t-shirt through with the sun pounding the back of her head like a malicious hammer, the misunderstanding still heavy in the air between them. As she walks she lets her mind wander.

How can she explain that when she met Scott they were both still so young? She still had the tiny, pert breasts and narrow, almost boyish hips of a teenage girl when he fell in love with her and she with him. They got older and their bodies matured along with their powers but Scott's taste in women never changed and Jean couldn't help changing. Her hips developed a definite curve and her breasts grew larger- heavy and ripe. Jean knows a lot of men like big breasts, knows it in theory but not in practice since Scott isn't one of them and he's the only man she's ever been with. He's never said he didn't like her breasts outright although Jean once heard him joking with the guys that 'more than a mouthful's wasted', whatever that means. He just never praises them either and lately he never seems to want to touch them or her very much. When Logan first came to the mansion, sniffing around like a stray dog looking for a bitch in heat (Jean presumably being said bitch) then Scott had put his back up and snarled like any good Alpha defending his territory- his property. For the first time in a long time it seemed like he wanted her again. It was such a good feeling that Jean tried to discourage Logan's overtures although she couldn't help being flattered that he so obviously wanted her. Yet, when Logan left to go to Alkali Lake, things went back to normal and now Jean can't remember the last time she and Scott made love. She thinks warily that maybe she isn't Scott's type anymore. Some dark corner of her mind shields the fact that maybe he is no longer hers either.

Jean ponders how to make Logan understand all this without outright telling him but can't come up with much. Maybe the heat is still making her brain fuzzy. Whatever... she trudges on.

---

Later Jean tries to understand how in the hell she could have forgotten sun block. As fair as she is, she's never dared to go out in the sun without it all her life and she even packed a full bottle of the heavy duty stuff, SPF 3 gazillion or whatever it is, just in case. But she's been too preoccupied with other thoughts to remember it and now she's paying the price.

Jean sits inside the small collapsible tent which Logan set up for them and moans quietly to herself. Logan is gone in search of some water; they're running low and he claims he can smell some nearby, leaving Jean to settle down and realize her awful mistake. If it was just her face and arms it might not be so bad but the thin white t-shirt has offered almost no protection and when Jean peels it off after being sure that Logan is well and truly gone she realizes that her entire front and back are sunburned as well. She is one crispy critter and she hasn't had a sunburn this bad since she was 12 and got carried away wearing her first bikini. It's amazing how a sunburn can just sneak up on you. When you're in the sun and busy thinking about or doing something else you're fine. Its only when you get out of the sun and sit down for a minute of quiet that you realize just how badly burned you are and what a miserable ordeal you're in for.

Jean feels the tightness and tingling pain that you never quite forget after having just one really bad burn. After the incident when she was twelve her mother put Jean to bed after coating her thoroughly in a thick, sticky layer of Noxzema and there she stayed for nearly a solid week until she was able to get up and around again. But there is no Mother here and no Noxzema for that matter. Jean is an adult now and has to take care of herself. She also has a mission to accomplish but how in the world is she going to manage that when every movement of her upper body is pure pain?

Jean looks in a little hand mirror she has in her pack at her face. She had her head bent while trudging along so mostly just her cheeks and the bridge of her nose are burned. The undersides of her arms and the under curves of her breasts also escaped the sun's reach and are still the creamy, milk white which is her natural coloring. But her shoulders, back, and the tops of her breasts are an even, angry pink that Jean knows will darken to a deep, raw red soon. The first day you have a sunburn is never the worst. It's not till the second day of a major burn that your body feels the full impact of the sun's touch and just thinking this makes Jean groan because she's already in pain and she knows it's only going to get worse- much worse. By tomorrow she'll barely be able to move, let alone complete any kind of a mission. Jean wishes with all her heart that she had remembered the sun block instead of thinking in futile circles of her relationship with Scott all day.

She hears Logan returning and though she doesn't want him to see her this way for the life of her she can't bring herself to put back on the t-shirt- the rough material against her tender flesh is too much to bear. Instead, she clutches the shirt in front of her breasts and even this small action causes her to hiss in pain.

"Red? Found some water close to here and though maybe we should move camp to get a little..." Logan's voice trails off as her enters the tent and sees her sitting crouched in a corner holding the shirt up to cover her breasts and trying not to touch anything.

"Jeanie, Darlin', you OK?" he asks in concern, sniffing the air suspiciously as though he fears an outside attack. Nothing so exciting, unfortunately. Just Jean forgetting the sun block and frying herself up crispier than a bucket of the Colonel's original recipe. Jean is beginning to be in serious pain and the pain makes her even angrier with herself. How could she be so stupid?

"Got a sunburn," she says, unwilling to say much more about the matter. "A pretty bad one I'm afraid," she adds reluctantly.

"Let me see," he says, authoritatively, coming closer and even in pain as she is Jean can't help smelling that spicy, delicious scent he gives off and wanting him as he crowds his large body into the small tent to get next to her. She's afraid he might touch her, which would be agony at this point but he doesn't, just examines her back and shoulders and motions for her to drop the shirt so he can see the full extent of the damage. Reluctantly, she does so, baring her breasts for him for the first time although this isn't anything like the situation she might have let herself envision in the early hours of the morning when Scott has rolled away from her leaving her untouched, unloved...

Logan doesn't try to make it into anything it's not or anything it might be under different circumstances. He gives a low whistle when he sees the state of her back and breasts and the flat of her stomach, which is also a sunrise pink. He doesn't attempt to touch anything for which Jean is profoundly grateful.

"Hurts?" he asks sympathetically.

"Badly," Jean admits, trying not to choke on the considerable understatement.

"Can you walk?" he wants to know.

"I guess but why?" Jean is reluctant to move knowing that every movement will
be fresh pain. She feels faintly nauseous and knows the feeling will get worse with motion.

"Cause it'll hurt less for you to walk than for me to carry you." He motions to her. "Come on. Leave the shirt. Don't worry. We're the only people around for miles."

"Where are we going?" Jean wants to know, stubbornly. He's got to give her a good reason to move and she hasn't heard one yet.

"Just about a hundred yards northeast I found a natural stream and a little pool. Like a natural oasis. We've got to get you in the water and cooled down, Jeanie. I think you're on your way to sun poisoning here and we got no way to contact help if you get really sick. Come on."

Reluctantly, she does as he says, forcing her legs to move, trying to hold her upper body stiff and immobile but the pain is still considerable and intense.

Outside the sun is setting in a gaudy desert display of crimson and burnt umber. Faint wisps of clouds floating on the indigo horizon are like wads of pink cotton candy she ate as a child and the hills in the far distance are already in shadow, bruise colored and silent. Jean concentrates on just following Logan's lead to the small pool, which turns out to be about five feet across. She's not sure of the depth.

Logan goes first, stripping off his suit entirely along with the black tank top leaving his body completely nude. Somehow Jean isn't surprised by this; Logan doesn't strike her as the kind of guy who would bother with boxers or briefs. He stands before her silently for a moment, completely unashamed, giving her time to look, which she does. Though part of her doesn't want to, another part just can't help it. His healing factor won't let him burn as she has but he is noticeably darker, bronzed by the sun and gilded by the last dying light coming out of the west.

Logan is well built and no doubt he knows it although he's not the conceited type as far as Jean can see. It's more like she though earlier- his body is like a finely tuned machine and he expects it to work for him, which it certainly does. She lets her eyes caress his broad shoulders and muscular torso, his chest covered in the dense mat of curly black hair and can't help wondering what it would be like with a hairy man. Scott is so smooth... almost as smooth as she is herself. Her eyes travel downwards, she can't help it, following that narrow trail of wiry curls (a friend of Jean's in junior high used to call that the 'happy trail') that leads to the heavy dark sex hanging between his legs like some forbidden fruit. Even flaccid and unaroused as he is now it looks both long and thick, the plum shaped head lying comfortably against one well muscled thigh and the heavy balls curving beneath, looking cuppably soft, full enough to fill her hands now itching with curiosity so much that she almost forgets her pain. Jean has to wonder now what it would be like to be with a really big man... big down there but she pushes the thought away and forces her eyes lower to his muscular thighs and calves and back up to his eyes. He is waiting quietly for her to finish her visual tour with a hint of a smile on those red, curving lips. His nostrils flare slightly as though he can smell her sudden desire for him and then he turns away and gets carefully into the small pool, offering her his bare back and giving her privacy to strip off as well.

Jean can't bring herself to strip completely though she does manage to peel off the rest of her uniform which isn't easy since she's trying to do it without moving her upper body any more than is absolutely necessary. She makes small moans of pain to herself as she wiggles loose from its tight embrace and kicks off her shoes and socks as well. She leaves on her panties- silk French-cut bikinis that she would trade in a heartbeat for some cotton granny panties if she could go back in time and do things over again. Then again, Jean would do a lot of things over again if she had the convenient power to go back in time including being more careful with the communicator and remembering her sun block to name just a few.

"Careful, Jeanie. It drops off pretty sharply," Logan warns as she lowers herself slowly into the small pool. He is trying to giver her privacy by not quite looking and yet make sure she doesn't slip at the same time by using little half glances over his right shoulder. Jean doesn't think to question the necessity of his being in the pool with her. She knows instinctively that he's there to look out for her, not to take advantage.

It's not so bad while she's stepping into the cool water up to her legs and ass but when the cool liquid begins to lap at her sunburned upper half she hisses in pain. It is pure agony- too cold meeting too hot and Jean is surprised she doesn't see steam rising from the surface of the pool like some ridiculous cartoon. The pain causes her to lose concentration on her footing and she stumbles, abruptly going under in a surprisingly deep part. Opening her mouth to shriek at the sudden dunking, she takes in a lungful of water and feels for a moment she must be drowning.

Suddenly two large hands are on her, mercifully on her hips below the sunburn, and Logan hauls her back to the surface where she chokes and coughs out the water feeling like a fool.

"Sorry...slipped," she offers in a thick voice when she can manage to talk again.

"'s OK," Logan assures her, still holding her steady, not letting go of her hips though the danger is clearly past. The sudden immersion forced her body to get used to the water's temperature quickly and now the silky lapping of the cool liquid against her heated flesh feels good, soothing. The worst of the pain recedes and Jean notices how closely he's still holding her, his large, warm hands sliding on the silk panties over her hips beneath the water's surface, causing heat of a different kind to climb in a warm flush from her naked breasts to the suddenly wet v between her legs. Jean knows that wetness has nothing to do with the water she is currently chest deep in.

Logan wet is even more gorgeous than Logan dry. Drops of water bead along his broad shoulders and drip from surprisingly long eyelashes. That crisp, curly patch of dark hair is matted to his broad, well-defined chest and his nipples are dark brown nubs, made erect by the cool liquid slapping against them periodically as he moves in the water. Without thinking, Jean reaches up and traces the solid planes of his chest, brushing firmly along one brown nipple with an inquisitive forefinger. Logan takes a deep breath and lets out what sounds almost like a warning growl between half clenched teeth.

"None o' that, Darlin'. Not right now, anyway," he warns and Jean sees that look in his eyes- the one that says if she wasn't already injured he'd make her pay for that light, teasing touch. She feels something large brush her thigh and knows it isn't a fish.

"Sorry," she mumbles stupidly, stumbling back an inch or two, unable to meet those dark eyes.

"Don't be," he says more gently. He lifts her chin with one strong hand and looks into her eyes for an instant of heat before letting her look down again. They are still only a hand's breadth away from each other in the cool water and Jean feels flushed and feverish- from his proximity or from the sunburn or both she can't tell.

"It's just that you affect me, Darlin'. You know what I mean." He catches her eyes again and she nods reluctantly. She knows what he means because he affects her the same way. Even with the worst sunburn of her life she can't help her body's reaction to his proximity. It's almost like a chemical reaction that happens between them that neither one can help. Something elemental- you pour gasoline and strike a match-the flames are sure to follow, there's no way around it. She can't help it and she's not sure she would if she could. The look on Logan's face says the same.

"You affect me and I can't afford to be affected right now. We're out on a mission and you've got a pretty bad burn there. There's too much goin' on to let myself be distracted by your... considerable charms." His grin is a white slice in his dark face and Jean blushes again as he allows his eyes to leave her face and wander down to her breasts, not quite covered by the surface of the water. The sun has set completely now but the desert stars are bright and she can clearly see his features, the look on his finely chiseled face is the same one he had earlier when he asked her, 'What's not to like?'

She doubts he can see her blush between the darkness and her sunburn but maybe he smells her embarrassment because he suddenly puts a little distance between them and says, "Sorry Red. I know you said you don't like me lookin' at ya like that."

Somewhere she finds the courage to say, "No...it's alright. You can look if...I mean if you really want to..." She trails off, blushing more furiously than ever and Logan looks at her with a kind of wonder.

"You weren't just blowin' smoke earlier, were ya, Darlin'? You really don't like the way you look?"

"I'm just a little self-conscious is all," she flares back. "Most women are, you know, Logan. It's not easy for me to be this... undressed around someone I hardly know even if it is necessary." Her hand describes a gesture that takes in everything, including their current situation and her horrendous burn. "This is just really... pushing my comfort level." She tries to cross her arms over her breasts and hisses in pain when she forgets to be careful of the burn.

"So is it just that you don't like being naked around me? Do you mind being undressed around Scott?" His voice is filled with curiosity and something in his tone says he likes pushing her comfort level- likes it a lot.

"That's none of your business," Jean responds tartly. She remembers the wonder of exploring Scott's body and having him explore hers so many years ago when they were young. The though still makes her ache. How long has it been since he touched her? Touched her that way, gently and urgently all at once, the way a man touches you when he wants you so badly but doesn't want to hurt you... The thought suddenly makes her feel like weeping. She's only 27- too young to feel so old. Maybe it isn't her breasts at all- maybe Scott just lost interest in her as a person a long time before he lost interest in her body. Maybe there hasn't been anything there for a long time. There is a taste like ashes and bitterness in the back of her throat and she swallows it down determinedly. She will not cry- will not show weakness in front of Logan.

"Jean, I'm sorry if I pushed it too far," he whispers. "It's just that... you're so damned beautiful. I guess I wanted you from the first time I saw you. It's been hard for me to accept that you're with that... with Scott."

"Well accept it, I have," Jean retorts angrily, burying sorrow in anger is surprisingly easy to do.

But Logan is shaking his head.

"No. No, I don't think you have, Darlin'. I know what I smell and my nose don't lie. You want me as much as I want you. I haven't pushed it 'cause you're always doin' the happy girlfriend act around One Eye, but now that I get an idea that there's trouble in paradise you can't expect me to ignore it. I'm an opportunist at heart, Red, always have been." He grins that white slice of a grin again and leans in for a kiss and though Jean wants more than anything to feel those full red lips against her own she still hangs back.

"I thought you said you couldn't afford to be affected...distracted," she points out. Logan lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Alright, Jeanie, I know what I said. But at this point I could almost say screw the damn mission. Nothing is more important to me than you right now. Nothing. But look," he runs a distracted hand through his wild hair, the movement causing little ripples in the water around them. "Tell me right now that you want me to leave you alone and I will. And I'll never bother you again if you just say the word." He waits in silence so thick with tension Jean can barely breath for her to say that one word that will end all hope, will take him out of her life as anything but a friend forever. She opens her mouth to say it but somehow she can't... she just can't.

"Thought so." His voice is thick with...what? Not triumph, maybe lust, Jean guesses. She can't bring herself to study his face in the starlight to tell for sure. "Damn it, Jean, you can't pretend even to yourself that there's not something between us. If you weren't so damn hurt I'd show you right now how I feel about you. I want you so much... God!" he sighs explosively, tension leaking from him to her across the narrow space of chilly water between them and igniting her blood. She realizes he is talking about taking her, here and now and she wishes again and for wholly different reasons that she hadn't forgotten the damn sun block.

As much to diffuse the tension as to cool her burning flesh she turns abruptly away from him and ducks beneath the surface of the water, holding her breath, counting to ten. She resurfaces after a while to find him still staring in her general direction but with a quieter expression on his face.

"How ya feelin', Red?" he asks and Jean assumes he's talking about her sunburn and not the other, thornier issues they were verbally wrestling with a few moments ago. She realizes with a mixture of relief and regret that Logan has decided to take a step back and leave certain things for later. But the look in his eyes makes her certain that there will be a later- Logan doesn't drop things like this until they're resolved. And things between them are about as far from resolved as they can be at this point. Still, she's grateful for the reprieve.

"The burn doesn't hurt quite as bad but I'm afraid it'll get worse when I get out of the water," she admits.

"Yeah, but we can't stay in this pool all night. It gets cold at night in the desert, the temperature's droppin' already," he points out. Jean shivers and realizes he's right. They've been in the pool a little less than 30 minutes and the temperature must have dropped a good 10 degrees already.

"C'mon, Red." Logan pulls himself out of the water and she had a moment to admire his tight ass and long legs as the water sluices off him before he turns and offers her a hand. "Let's get you back to camp and try to make you comfortable." The words are bland and his eyes are innocent of innuendo when she looks at him sharply before taking his hand. But there is the barest hint of a smile on those red lips that Jean can't miss.

They bundle up their clothes and head nude (or nearly nude in Jean's case) back to the tent. Once inside, Logan dries himself vigorously with a spare shirt. He offers another to Jean who uses it to dry her hair a little and blot her red skin delicately, but even this faint touch hurts and she knows she's in for a rough night. The French cut panties are soaked and with a sigh she finally strips them off and covers her lap with the damp shirt. She would put it on to cover herself more reliably but anything touching her skin hurts too much- modesty has to take a back seat to comfort in this case. Logan looks down and busies himself arranging the sleeping bags, wisely not commenting.

When he is done, Jean huddles miserably on her bag as Logan gets comfortable in his. She is glad they always bring emergency provisions like sleeping bags, food and the tent for unforeseen situations like the one they find themselves in now but right now all she can think about is her skin. The sleeping bag is doing her precious little good since she can't stand to lay down in it.

"I'm sorry you're in pain, Jeanie." Logan's deep voice floats softly to her in the gloomy darkness of the tent.

"Thanks," she manages. "I hope I don't bother you sitting up like this, it sort of hurts too much to lie down."

"No problem. You never bother me." He turns on his side, facing her. "Wish I could do something to help ya, though."

She laughs brittally. "I wish you could too, Logan. Sure wish you could share a little of your healing factor with me."

"So do I... Wait a minute, Red..." he sits up, appearing to think deeply for a moment. Jean regards him with some surprise wondering what he's going to suggest.

"Jeanie, would you let me try something that might seem a little... strange?"

"Strange how?" she asks warily.

"Well..." he sits up completely now, turning to face her, legs still tangled in the sleeping bag but he doesn't notice he's so excited.

"About a week ago while I was down in the lab shootin' the shit with Hank, I looked down and saw a roach run over the toe of my boot. It was one of those big ones too, the ones that get in from outside, ya know?" Jean nods and he continues. " I hate the little bastards so without thinkin', I stepped on it. Crunch-crunch and no more Mister Roach." Jean shudders and Logan grins. "I know, disgustin', isn't it? But that's not the point of the story. I looked under my boot and he was still wavin' his feelers around a little but it was clear he wasn't long for this world. Was going to that big roach Heaven in the sky or wherever it is roaches go. Just for good measure, I spit on him. Kind of adding insult to injury, I really hate roaches, ya know?" Jean nods, she hates them too but she still can't tell where this story is headed or how in the world it can help her sunburn. But at least she's a little distracted from the pain. Logan seems to read her mind.

"I know, you're wonderin' if this story has a point, right? Well, the point is that after I spit on him, Mister Roach got a whole lot more lively and before I knew it he was up and runnin' again. We had quite a job to catch him because Hank wanted to study him. Said I must have healed the damn thing when I spit on him. See, Hank believes that my Healing factor is carried in my... um... bodily fluids." Jean can't tell if he's blushing or not. "When we get back, Hank wants to run a lot more tests..." he trails off.

Jean clears her throat delicately.

"So... you're saying you want to... spit on me?" she asks at last.

"Well, not exactly, Darlin'... here. Let me just try something and if it doesn't work you can slap me, alright?" He grabs her wrist with no warning, but delicately, obviously trying not to hurt her, and pulling her arm out in front of him, he bends over and licks along the pink flesh of her forearm from wrist to elbow. Jean gasps as his rough, wet tongue slides over her skin. There is pain at first, and then a delicious absence of the same. It's almost as though Logan has spread a soothing coat of Noxzema or Aloe Vera over the spot where he licked.

"How does it feel?" he asks, anxiously. "Better, worse, the same?"

"Better I think," she says cautiously. "I wish we had a light so I could look at it."

"Here." He produces a flashlight from somewhere in the darkness and flicks it on, aiming at her still extended arm. Jean's eyes grow accustomed to the sudden light and then she gasps at what she sees. Along the length of her forearm where there was an angry red burn there is now a narrow area of almost normal looking skin. It's a little pinker than the creamy vanilla of the underside of her forearm but it certainly looks healthier than the rest of her arm and it hardly hurts at all.

"Logan, it worked!" she exclaims, excited. "You healed my arm, or that part of it, anyway. It barely hurts anymore either. Hank was right."

"I'm glad." He smiles at her, a feral flash of his white teeth in the gloom. "So Jeanie...ya want me to continue? Should I heal you...all over?" The innuendo in his tone is too obvious to miss.

'Of course,' she starts to say but that tone makes her reconsider for a moment. Does she really? The sexual tension between them flares to life as she seriously considers his offer. Would she rather live with the pain or ask Logan to lick almost every inch of her upper body?

"How do you feel about it? I mean... do you mind?" she hedges, hesitantly, unsure of herself.

"Darlin', you have to ask?" his voice is low and rich, melting like dark chocolate at the back of her throat. Her silence is answer enough for him. She wants to know- to have him tell her beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wants this before she can let herself want it too. "Jeanie, I woulda hid the damn sun block myself if I thought this was even a remote possibility. Not that I want to see you in any kind of pain but licking you all over has got to be one of my top 10 fantasies."

She laughs nervously. "Then I'm afraid to ask what the other 9 are," she whispers.

"And I'd love to show ya sometime, Darlin', but right now we should work on one at a time. Do you want me to do this?" There it is, no holding back. Logan is refusing to start anything without her permission. Jean decides she doesn't blame him. After all, they both know this will almost certainly lead to other things. Permission is necessary for most of them. Still, she can at least pretend. Pretend that things won't go any further than his tongue on her skin, his mouth on her body.

"I... if you truly don't mind Logan. But just...heal me, OK? Nothing else- you know what I mean."

"I know." He clicks the flashlight off plunging them again into darkness. Jean notices that while he acknowledges her statement, he makes no promises of any kind. They both know any promises made at this point would almost certainly be broken. Why lie about the inevitable?

"Logan..." she breathes in the darkness, a whisper, a prayer... and then he is on her, gentle at first but holding her firmly in the darkness. She knows there will be no escaping his touch tonight and a part of her is glad, relieved, willing to surrender to what she has wanted almost from the first time she laid eyes on him. She knows he feels the same.

Jean gasps as she feels his almost cat-rough tongue drag slowly and methodically along her arm. Logan is making sure he doesn't miss a spot, his breath hot on her body, smelling faintly of cinnamon. He takes his time with her arms and Jean can't help but feel that he is savoring her flavor like a wine connoisseur sampling a rare vintage he never expected to get to taste. He isn't rushing to get to more tender areas, the nape of her neck, her breasts. No, he's enjoying every minute of this, touching and tasting her intimately. It makes a sigh fall out of her slowly the way he sucks each finger suggestively in turn, licking along each separate knuckle with careful strokes and pays special attention to the small, delicate bones of her wrist. Logan seems to have forgotten that he needs only to lick the outside of her arms to heal her because he is also laying tender, openmouthed kisses along the inside of each forearm and spends time sucking the sensitive pulse point at the crook of each elbow.

Jean moans, she can't help herself. How can he possibly make her this hot and wet without even touching an erogenous one? But every part of her body seems to be an erogenous zone where Logan is concerned. Logan hears her moan and stops for a moment.

"Am I hurtin' you Darlin'?" he asks softly. "Want me to stop?" If he stops Jean knows she will explode with pent up sexual tension.

"No, Logan." Her voice sounds breathy and a little high in her own ears. She knows he'll be able to tell he's affecting her. But she's sure he can tell that anyway, she's so wet now that surely the scent of her arousal is very obvious to his enhanced senses. "Don't stop... please." She can't keep herself from adding. He growls softly in the gloom of the tent- a noise much more animal than human no matter what he may say about himself.

"Turn around, Jeannie. I'm gonna do yer back." His voice is husky and low, sending shivers through her as she shifts around obligingly and curves her back for him as well as her sunburned front will allow. She feels him shift in the darkness behind her and then his hot tongue is on her again, starting at the gentle swell of her buttocks and moving wetly up to the delicate bones of her shoulder blades. He licks a long, wet furrow up the middle of her back, his tongue caressing each separate knob of her spine, breaking her out in helpless spasms of gooseflesh as he goes. She moans again, involuntarily as he bathes her back with his tongue, his mouth so hot the sunburn feels like nothing compared to it. He stops often to kiss and to suck, nipping almost roughly at her sides and the rounded top of her ass and she knows that tomorrow she'll be marked even if the sunburn is gone.

Finished with her lower back, he presses close behind her, his pelvis grinding insistently into the small of her back, his hardness nestled into the cleft between her buttocks and she is forcibly reminded that he is as naked as she is. He leans over her and she feels the dense matt of fur on his chest brushing against the still-sensitive wet flesh of her back as he pays careful attention to her shoulders. His position behind her, looming over her like this causes Jean's thoughts to wander helplessly. She can't help wondering what it would feel like to have him bend her all the way over, to force her to her hands and knees, legs spread submissively while he pushes inside her, fills her wet sex with his thickness.

As if sensing her thought, Logan does reach down with one hand and spreads her legs and Jean offers a soft cry of protest. But it is his fingers, not his cock, that he uses to caress her inner thighs as he licks the sensitive nape of her neck.

"Shh, Darlin'. I'm not gonna do anything you don't want me to do," he whispers roughly against her neck. "Just say the word anytime and I'll stop."

'Lies,' Jean thinks but does it really matter? As if she could summon the willpower to stop him now- it's a total non-issue.

Logan continues to pet her thighs softly, always just avoiding that one area of aching need. Surely he can feel the dampness on her thighs, her wetness for him coating his fingertips but he just keeps caressing her softly as though she were a nervous animal he's trying to sooth until Jean feels like she's going to go insane with want and need.

"Logan... please..." The cry is pulled out of her and she hates herself for begging but she just can't help it. Her plea seems to be what Logan was waiting for to continue because his large, warm hand finally finds her center, the calloused fingertips spreading her folds gently from behind and rubbing firmly against her aching clitoris as his tongue licks along her shoulders and neck. Jean has never felt so very naked, so wet, so open for any man. His musky scent envelopes her and he growls low and needful in her ear.

"God Jeanie, I've wanted ta touch you like this for so long," he mutters. Jean is crying wordlessly, pushing back against him, feeling his cock grind into the cleft of her buttocks and wishing it was inside her instead. The stimulation of his fingers on her clitoris is good but she needs more to come- she needs penetration and Logan knows it.

Without warning, Jean feels his sharp teeth clamp down on the sensitive spot where her necks curves into her shoulder and two of his long, strong fingers thrust up into her wetness at the same time. Jean groans and writhes on his fingers, arching her back and rocking her pelvis back to meet each savage thrust as he pushes into her body. She is close, so close and his fingers feel so good but they're just... not... quite... enough.

Again, as if sensing her thoughts Logan suddenly withdraws leaving Jean feeling empty... incomplete.

"Logan?" It is both a question and a plea and he answers her a little roughly.

"Gotta do your front, Darlin', before I lose control. Need ta finish what I started." There is a promise in his voice of things soon to come that makes Jean shiver.

"Alright," she whispers, her voice hoarse with need.

"Lay down on yer back, Jeanie," Logan tells her and she does, lying easily on the newly healed skin which is only a little sensitive where he bit her so recently. Laying spread eagle on her back before him as he looms over her in the darkness, Jean has never felt so helpless or less in control of her emotions. She is open completely for him, knows she will do anything he demands without question or hesitation. She is waiting breathlessly for his touch on her skin again.

She doesn't have to wait long. Logan seems to take a moment to gather himself and then he kneels before her once more. His mouth along the front of her collarbones and neck makes her gasp. He licks and sucks hard against the hollow of her throat while she writhes beneath him, wanting more. He gives it to her, licking delicately along the upper part of her chest before turning his attention to her full breasts.

Gently, mindful that this is a more sensitive area than he has yet tasted, Logan glides his tongue softly along the swell of her upper breasts, his hands cupping the full under-curves to bring her softness up to his searching mouth. Jean all but cries when he stops for a moment in his gentle exploration.

"How far did the sunburn reach, Darlin'?" he asks teasingly, and Jean is amazed he can control himself enough to tease her at a time like this. She feels she's about to explode. "Did you get burned here?" he asks softly, allowing his tongue to trace all around the tender curve of one areola without touching the nipple. Jean realizes he actually expects an answer- actually expects her to be coherent at this time. She knows what he's doing, he's prolonging the pleasure, taking it down a notch in order to push her that much higher and harder later but it's almost more than she can bear.

"Yes," she moans. It's all she can say at the moment but it seems to be the answer that Logan wants.

"Did it burn you here?" he continues, lightly flicking one nipple with his tongue, nipping her playfully before releasing the hardened tip. "Or how about here?" he whispers, low and dangerous in her ear as he licks the other nipple, sucking so briefly that Jean nearly cries with the loss of pleasurable sensation when he stops.

"Logan," she moans in a strangled voice. "I'm burning everywhere. Stop teasing me and just..." She can't bring herself to finish.

"Just what, Darlin'?" his voice purrs in her ear nearly pushing her over the brink of sanity.

"Just fuck me," she moans. Jean can't believe she just said this out loud but Logan doesn't seem surprised at all. He chuckles, his chest vibrating against hers as he continues to caress her breasts in his large, strong hands.

"Oh I intend to, Darlin'," he assures her. "I intend to fuck you long and hard and deep. I'm gonna ride you hard tonight but not... just... yet." He punctuates each of these last three words with a sharp nip to her sensitive flesh before sucking long and hard on first one and then the other nipple as she moans and writhes beneath him.

"I've wanted you so long, Jeanie and I don't intend to rush this experience one bit," he continues, his voice grating and low with need. "I want to make this a night to remember for both of us. I don't want you to close your eyes in the dark at night without feeling my mouth on you. Feeling me against you, inside you..." he ends with a feral growl that comes from deep in his chest. Possession, he intends to mark her permanently. If not physically then at least mentally and emotionally. At this moment in time, Jean is perfectly willing to be marked.

Logan spends an agonizingly long time on her breasts and Jean reflects as well as she is able to that she at last knows what it's like to be with a man who likes big breasts because Logan certainly likes hers. He licks her creamy flesh over and over, sucking the nipples and kneading her breasts gently in his large, warm hands. The stubble on his face scratches her sensitive skin in a way that is half pleasure/half pain. It feels so good it hurts.

"God, I love your tits, Darlin'" he moans, pressing his face between them. "From the minute I saw you I wanted to see how well they filled up my hands. Wanted ta suck on those hot nipples." He suits actions to words again. "There's only one thing I wanted to do more, ya know, Red," he whispers, letting his hands be still, simply cupping her for a moment.

"What's that?" Jean whispers, almost afraid to ask. What more could he possibly want? What indeed...

"This..." Logan tells her. He dips his head below her breasts at last and licks the flat of her belly, going lower and even lower, his tongue leaving a trail of moisture that starts out hot and ends up cool on her damp flesh. Jean shivers. Does he really mean... what she thinks he means? It seems that he does because now his large hands are between her thighs, spreading her inexorably open for him.

Jean bucks and for the first time would like to resist. Scott has never done this for her- the very idea was a turn off for him and it's hard for her to believe that Logan actually wants to... to taste her down there. Logan senses her resistance and stops for a moment.

"What's the matter, Darlin'? You getting' shy on me all of a sudden?" he inquires softly.

"It's just...I've never done this. I mean, had this done to me..." Jean is at a loss for words. "I mean...are you sure you want to?" Logan's laugh is deep in his throat, making he shiver with suppressed need.

"Darlin', remember before we started all this when I told you licking you all over is in my top 10 fantasies?"

"Yes?" she asks, curious but hot.

"Well, aside from fucking you, this has got to be number one. Jeanie, from the moment I first jumped off your exam table and got my arms around you I haven't been able ta get your sweet scent outta my mind. I don't mean the perfume you wear or the smell of yer shampoo or anything else either. I mean the way you smell when you're hot- that scent of wanting to fuck- of needing to be fucked. That comes straight from your sweet little pussy, Darlin', when you get wet, and I can't wait to taste you there. Whenever we're in a room together you start smellin' like that- smellin' hot like you need it bad. I knew by your scent you wanted me as much as I wanted you all these months. Tonight I'm finally gonna give you what we both been wantin'- what we both been needin' for so long. But before I do I want to put my tongue inside you and taste you and make you beg me to do it. Just relax Darlin', I won't be denied on this."

His voice is certain and his hands are firm on her thighs as he presses them outwards. Jean considers fighting but why? Logan had made it clear that he intends to do this and it's obviously something he enjoys greatly. Jean sighs and lets the tension drain out of her legs as she relaxes and gives in to the inevitable.

"That's right, Jeanie. Just relax and let me taste you, Darlin'. Open your legs for me and let me eat that sweet little pussy." His whiskers are rough against the sensitive skin of her thighs as he speaks and Jean moans as his tongue begins to travel slowly first up one inner thigh and then the other. As before when he touched her, Logan takes his time getting to her center. He seems content to lap the moisture from the soft area where her legs meet her torso for the longest time and he has Jean groaning in frustration and want a long time before he finally makes good on his promise to taste her.

When Logan finally does put his mouth on her hot center, Jean nearly jumps off the sleeping bag beneath them. He is soft at first, allowing her time to get used to the sensation. She can feel his mouth on her, gentle but insistent. He is parting her moist inner folds and kissing her wet sex the same way he would kiss her mouth, lovingly and hungrily. Jean cries out as the tip of his tongue finds the erect nub of her clitoris and he licks her firmly there, again and again. Jean feels so close to the edge but again she needs penetration to send her over. If only he would send her over! Her whole body throbs with need and she pushes her pelvis up to him, offering herself without shame.

"God, Darlin', you taste so good, better than I ever imagined," he whispers after a while, coming up for air. "I could eat your sweet pussy for hours."

"Then don't stop, Logan...please." Jean is past caring what she sounds like, she only knows he can't stop- not now- not yet...

His voice is amused at the pleading in her tone as he replies, "Wouldn't dream of it, Darlin'."

He reaches down beneath her and cups her hips in both his large hands, bringing her wet center closer to his face and spreading her legs even wider if that is possible. He buries his face between her thighs and Jean moans in pleasure as she feels his hot tongue enter her warmth, stabbing inside her as deeply as possible. She grinds shamelessly against his mouth and twines her fingers in his rough hair as he makes her cry breathlessly in the darkness of the tent. His hands on her thighs clamp down hard enough to leave marks as he spreads her open, bathing his face in her scent and heat. Her arousal seems to push him closer and closer to an invisible edge as he forces his tongue deeply inside her sex.

Logan's tongue penetrates deep but Jean knows she needs more, an even deeper, more forceful penetration to reach the ultimate peak. She wants him inside her, wants his thick cock spreading her open, pounding into her, making her come. She knows now she's wanted that all along and she can't believe she's denied her hunger for his body within hers for such a long, empty time. She hears someone moaning and realizes it's her own voice. She is nearly crying with need when Logan abruptly raises his head from between her legs and rises above her, panting a little with emotion.

"Have ta stop before I get carried away and hurt you, Darlin'," he growls, his voice made deep with undeniable need. "I have ta be inside you now, Jeanie. Can't hold back anymore. Need ta fuck you hard, Darlin' but I'll try not ta hurt you. You understand?" In the darkness his eyes flicker dangerously, more beast in rut than human male.

She nods, understanding his need because hers is every bit as fierce and unstoppable. She lays open before him, made as wet and ready as he can make her with his mouth and fingers. His menacing bulk looms over her for a brief instant and he pulls her roughly to him, his hardness nudging her tender inner thighs, his hands still cupped beneath her pelvis as he prepares to enter her.

"Next time I'll let ya choose how you want it, Jeanie but this time I need ta be on top of you," he growls and this too, Jean understands perfectly. He needs to possess her completely, to penetrate her as deeply as possible and she need it too. Needs to feel his weight on top of her as he fucks up into her body, making her scream, making her come.

The large, plum shaped head of his cock nudges her sex, spreading her wet folds aside and Jean cries out, a small sound in the darkness as it slides over the slippery bud of her clitoris while seeking her entrance. Logan is leaking with desire and he rubs his fluid across her already moist flesh. At last he finds the opening into her body he's been seeking and Logan begins to enter her, slowly at first when he senses how tight she is. Jean gasps as Logan slowly pushes his way inside. His cock is huge, thick and long and she feels a stretching pain as she struggles to accommodate him.

"Tryin' not ta hurt ya, Darlin'" he grates, nudging inside her inch by agonizing inch and Jean moans in pleasure and pain as he pushes deeper and deeper into her sex, spreading her wider than she's ever been spread before. She's wet but he's so thick and it seems like his cock will never end. At last she feels him bottoming out inside her, the head of his thickness pressing against the mouth of her cervix and she moans in relief, realizing the worst is over.

"You OK, Jeanie?" he asks, panting above her with need and the effort of holding still inside her tightness. Jean realizes he's trying to give her a little time to get used to his thick cock inside her before he starts to move. "Don't want ta hurt ya, Darlin' but I'm gonna fuck ya hard and deep now, understand?" His voice is low and urgent and Jean believes him completely. She feels pinned beneath his bulk, spread wide, his thick cock buried deep inside of her, impaling her with no hope of reprieve. Still, despite a thrill of fear deep in her belly there is nowhere else on earth she would rather be than trapped beneath him with his shaft spreading her sex wide, wet and hot and willing.

"Gonna fuck ya till I fill yer sweet little pussy full of my come, Jeanie," he tells her. "I've gotta come inside ya and I want ta feel you come around me. Want ta feel your tight little cunt squeeze me hard. Can ya do that for me, Darlin'?"

As he speaks, he begins to move inside her, slow, deep, hard strokes that would push Jean across the sleeping bag covered ground if he wasn't holding her so firmly against him, his muscular arms wrapped around her thighs to spread them wide for his onslaught. Jean cries out in wordless acknowledgement as he ploughs into her, deliberate and delicious. There is pain as his thickness opens her wide and the head of his cock presses hard against the mouth of her womb but there is pleasure as well. The pleasure of being well and truly fucked and Logan does it right, the way it's meant to be done. He doesn't let up for an instant, refuses to give ground even when she whimpers and moans and writhes beneath him. He only holds her more firmly, spreads he wider as he strokes into her wet sex relentlessly, filing her with his thickness until she feels ready to scream.

Jean feels herself getting closer to that edge she's been searching for all night. Logan is helping her reach it, giving her just what she needs by filling her over and over with his thick cock, ramming it into her now at a faster pace. He is getting closer to the edge himself, Jean can tell by his unsteady breathing and the way he forces himself deeper and even deeper into her body. She knows he had the instinctive need to come inside her, to plant his seed deep inside her belly and the knowledge only excites her further. She feels her own orgasm approaching at last and she wants to feel him bathing her womb with his cum.

"Logan, oh God, Logan," she moans, feeling the first waves breaking over her as she begins to come harder than she ever has in her life before. "I'm coming, you're making me come. Don't stop, fuck me harder!" she begs, all restraint torn completely away as he pounds into her, answering her pleas the only way he knows how- the only way he can.

Jean feels her orgasm break over her like a tidal wave, drenching her in pleasure so sharp she screams and claws at the ground with her fingernails. Godohgodohgod... her mind moans and she can feel her sex clenching all along Logan's' massive length still impaling her so deeply. Apparently he can feel it too because his rhythm speeds up to a wild bucking inside her and he pulls her even closer, tried to get even deeper inside her body with each rough thrust.

"Gonna cum inside you now, Darlin'," he grates out. "Gonna fill your sweet cunt up with my cum. Is that what you want?"

"Yes, God, yes!" she sobs, thrashing against him and rocking her pelvis up to meet his, matching his wild rhythm inside her. "Come inside me, Logan, fuck me, fill me up!"

With a roar, he thrusts deep inside of her, pressing the head of his thick cock to the mouth of her womb as he sprays her sex with his hot seed, filling her with his cum as he promised he would. Jean cries out, loving the feel of his heat inside her, the thick gush of wetness that fills her to overflowing with his essence. For a moment they strain together, Logan trying to press even deeper inside her body and Jean trying to take him inside more deeply than ever.

At last, after a few more deep strokes he relaxes on top of her, a warm, heavy blanket, still breathing heavily with his effort as Jean is with hers.

"God, Logan..." she mutters unsteadily. "That was...amazing. Phenomenal. I don't think I've ever..." She hesitates, her restraint coming back a little. "Ever come that hard. Ever." She is still panting a little as she speaks.

"Glad ya liked it, Darlin'." Logan's voice is amused. He buries his face in her neck and breaths deeply of her scent. "Mmmm, Jeanie. You're so sweet."

"Sweet?" Jean whispers. She is surprised to find she is crying a little, a fact she realizes when she puts up one hand to brush her hair out of her eyes. It must be from the sheer intensity of her orgasm.

"Yeah, sweet, Darlin'. Sweet ta touch, sweet ta taste and so very sweet ta fuck," he growls against her neck.

"But not sweet enough to stay with, I'll bet," Jean whispers. Now that the wave of pleasure she was riding has crested and gone she feels inexplicably sad. She never tried to fool herself that Logan wants more from her is a roll in the hay- just one good fuck to prove he can get in her pants. Now he's had it and it was amazing but it's also over. Now she'll have to go back to her cold, dreary, emotionally dead life with Scott and after one night with Logan she's just not sure she can do that.

Logan senses her mood at once.

"What's tha matter, Darlin'?" he asks, concern in his voice. "I thought you said it was good for you."

"It was good but it'd over now, Logan," Jean whispers, a catch in her voice she can't disguise. She turns her head away from him, attempts to move out from beneath his weight still lying heavy on her.

Logan growls possessively, unwilling to let her go so easily.

"It's not over 'till I say it's over, Red," he tells her. He still lays on top of her with his thickness buried inside her wet sex. The position, which felt so incredible a moment ago, now makes Jean feel incredibly emotionally vulnerable. She struggles to get free but Logan won't let her. He wraps his arms around hers and holds her close and tight until she has no option but to let him.

"What's tha matter Darlin'?" he asks her again, softly, holding her still against him. "You feeling guilty now? Got some kind of remorse?"

"Not guilty, just sad," Jean admits, still trying to turn her head away. " I knew when we started that this was just a one time thing- one night only- but... well... I just can't help being sad now that it's over. That's all."

"You thinking about goin' back ta Scott, is that it?" he asks, his tone unreadable.

 "Well, I don't really want to but what else can I do?" she asks, trying not to hear the despair in her voice, to feel the ache in her chest when she thinks of the inevitable.

"You could at least give us a chance, Jean," he says, quietly, cradling her head on his shoulder. Jean feels a sudden hope bloom in her chest, replacing the ache.

"You mean...?"

"Thought I was a love 'em and leave 'em kinda guy, didja?" he asks, a grin in his voice.

"Well, frankly, yes," Jean admits.

"I've been waitin' for you a long time, Red. What makes you think I ever want ta let you go?" he asks simply.

"I guess I just assumed..." Jean begins but Logan silences her suddenly by turning her face to his and kissing her gently on one cheek. He caresses her hair with one hand and Jean gasps softly to feel his tongue dart out and lap at the salt left behind by her tears.

"Logan..." she begins but he only continues tracing her cheeks with his mouth and tongue. His touch is feather light and his breath still smells of cinnamon as he licks softly at her skin. No words could convey Logan's emotions as eloquently as this gentle tasting.

"Forgot the sunburn on yer face, Darlin'," he says huskily. "Gotta take care of you. Gotta finish what I started." His words rekindle her passion and remind her that he is still buried deep inside her. And he is still hard.

"Logan," she whispers, beginning to mover her hips in small, suggestive circles, at the same time raking her nails down his broad, muscular back. He groans at the pleasure of her movements.

"Yes, Darlin'?" he whispers, soft and low in her ear.

"Remember you said that next time I get to pick the position?" she purrs, seductively.

"I do seem to recall making a promise to you somethin' like that," he admits with another groan.

"Well I think it's time for the next time right now. And this time I want to be on top."

Fin