~*~
Nervously, she headed towards the bed and then stopped mid-step when she noticed that the room was dimmer and that a soft tune was playing by Sarah McLachlan.
Did Logan actually put on Sarah McLachlan? She cast her mind back, trying to recall if maybe she'd had that CD in there. Nope, no it was Creed in there. Definitely not Sarah. Logan actually put Sarah on. Whoah. She looked at him, a question very obvious on her face.
"Setting the mood," he offered with a hint of sheepishness. Logan putting on Sarah? Logan, sheepish? What is the world coming to? ::
She raised an eyebrow, "Sarah McLachlan?" He glanced over at the CD and grimaced, "just wanted something that would relax you." She smiled, hearing the slight emphasis on 'you.' Nine Inch Nails probably relaxed him. "Marie, come on, sit down."
She moved to the side of the bed and gingerly lowered herself down; immediately she could feel the heat from him filling the air around her. "Lean back," he directed as he pulled her closer to him, his legs stretched out on either side of her, and reached for the brush in her hand. She complied and a few seconds later, that brushes' bristles were weaving through her hair with a ginger air of utter cautiousness.
Feeling her breath suspended for a moment, Marie closed her eyes as his smell, his touch, his presence surrounded her. At moments like this, she almost believed that Logan might really love her. Jubilee and Kitty, not to mention Josee - and she'd only been here less than a week - swore that he did. But they didn't know Logan like she did, hadn't been privy to his thoughts about herself and Jean and every other woman he'd ever known. And his feelings for her were nothing like those he felt for other women.
Sure, she knew there was a bit of lust - this was Logan after all. But much more than that was just the caring, the protective streak and despite that hint of desire (which admittedly had grown considerably since his return) she knew that his feelings for her were for the most part friendly. She was a real friend and he didn't have to many of those.
And that was enough. Really. And that friendship on top of the unspoken desire was certainly enough and she didn't want to lose it. She didn't want to lose what she had with him ... because it was really all she could ever have.
"Stop thinking so hard," his voice suddenly broke into her thoughts. "Relax." And he continued stroking the brush through her hair. The downward pull caught on a slight knot and, very carefully he pulled the brush away and used his fingers to carefully untangle it. When the task was done, he continued brushing with soft, even strokes that soothed and relaxed her.
Sighing in contentment, thoughts gone, she leaned back a little. "This is nice," she mumbled lazily. A laugh, slight and barely audible, emanated from him, "good," he responded and brushed her hair through one more time before laying the brush to the side. And then she felt his hands on her shoulders. Her bare shoulders. And she stilled for a moment, even though she could feel the Logan-warmed latex gloves on her flesh. His hands tightened ever so softly; leaning over her shoulder, he whispered into her ear, "relax."
Now at that exact moment in time, relaxing was not the first thing on her mind, but, releasing another long, shaky sigh, she willed her body to loosen up as he'd indicated. She must have succeeded marginally because his grip eased up. "Close your eyes," he whispered, as if he knew that they were wide and staring across the room. And so she did. And then his breath was soft against her ear and her flesh tingled where his breath lingered and again she sighed, this one a soft, melting sigh of acquiescence.
His hands began to move, his fingers gently sinking into her shoulder blades, alternately pressing down and then gliding across her upper and then lower back. She groaned aloud and his movements stilled for a moment. "Don't stop," she whispered and arched her back in his direction, demanding more. So rarely was she touched, even by him - she fought every occurrence, not wanting to put him at risk, not wanting to open herself up to too much temptation. And now with the feel, the strength of his fingers against her flesh ... she found herself swimming in a sea of utter peace.
And it felt so good. She could feel all of her defenses melting away. More than anything she wanted to turn to him and just fall into his arms, declare her love and to hell with the consequences. And it was there ... so close, her body tensed suddenly on the verge of action. Shifting a bit, she actually believed for a moment that she was going to do it and then she felt the hard pressure of his erection rubbing into her and reality washed through her with vivid recollect.
This was Logan. Logan who would fuck any woman as long as she was halfway decent looking and willing. Logan who only truly wanted one woman and she wasn't it. She squeezed her eyes tight, she would be his friend, his little buddy, she would even flirt and play these little games for him, but she would not be a substitute for Jean Grey.
Reaching up, she pushed his hands off of her shoulder and slid away from him before he could react. "Marie?"
Shaking her head, she moved to the edge of the bed and turned to face him. "I'm about to fall asleep, Logan, you got me so relaxed," and she smiled and it was genuine, because it wasn't his fault that she loved him and he didn't love her the same way. It wasn't.
He was quiet, trying to gauge her mood and she felt guilty. Here he was, just trying to do something nice for her and her feelings had to go and get in the way. "Logan?" His name was soft on her lips.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you." It was the least he deserved.
He paused for a moment and then nodded, that lovely warm smile shining across his face once more. "You're welcome," he replied and his gaze held hers for a moment before dropping away. She looked away, holding her breath for a moment, because sometimes, just sometimes, when he looked at her like that, she could almost believe that he could love her.
Almost.
~*~