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It was pathetic, really. Sweet little Marie, always there, always waiting. Always the friend, never the lover. Fuck that. Marie snorted. That was the problem. She wanted to fuck THAT.
He sat three tables away, holding court. There was a blonde – stupid, flat chested, no competition there. The brunette was swinging her long dark hair around and fluttering her lashes, but Logan wouldn’t fall for that. He didn’t respond to flirting the way other men did. The redhead had her worried, though. She knew exactly how much he liked redheads; he’d been in love with that doctor way back when, and Jean had done a number on him too. Not to mention whoever else could rustle up the right bottle of dye in between. When Logan tweaked a copper-coloured curl and smiled his slow, I’m-the-best-you’ll-ever-have smile, Marie found herself stalking across the floor towards them. Enough was enough.
This little sister stuff had to stop. She was older than every one of those girls, and she didn’t see him protecting them in battle. Calling them “kid”. She paused behind him, and he tipped his head back to look up at her enquiringly. She stepped closer, and his head nestled neatly between her breasts, hair tickling the skin exposed by the deep V of her t-shirt. His brows shot up at that, so she answered the unasked question. Thought of him on the train, the protectiveness. Thought of him pulling her from Magneto’s machine. Thought of him rising shirtless from the lake yesterday and how she’d wanted him so bad, she thought her heart would stop. The memory alone set her thighs quivering and – oh yes, that would do it nicely.
He took a deep breath, drawing in the heady pheromones. Tilted his head back even further, rubbed against her like a huge, dangerous cat. If they’d been alone, he would be purring now. Marie steeled herself to step into the future. An undeniable, irrevocable, and hopefully irresistible come on.
“Time to take a chance, Logan. Take a chance on me.”
She’d said it quietly. No need for the other girls to know that they hadn’t. They didn’t.
He replied at the same level, just below the range of human (and most mutant) hearing.
“I did that years ago, kid. Been waiting for you to step up to the plate.”
She smiled, held out her hand. He rose from the table, offering his disgruntled companions a heedless smile.
“Sorry girls, gotta go. My woman needs me.”
Only she heard the last words of that sentence. “At long-fucking-last.”