by Cygnet
Canada. Maybe its after the movie when he�s wandering around looking for
his past. It doesn�t matter, the only thing that matters is the prime, sexy
Logan.
Summary: You pick up a stranger in a bar.
Archive: I�m not possessive, if you want it, feel free.
Disclaimer: Come to think of it, I didn�t use any trademarked content. But
to be safe, let me say that Wolverine belongs to Marvel comics, this story
was not sanctioned, and I make no profit from having written it.
Personal Note: Diebin should get some credit for this. As I was writing
it, she�d periodically request that I send it to her through AIM, and then
she�d make suggestions. Thanks for introducing me to this world, Babe!
damn.
Suddenly you�re very aware that you haven�t had a man in over a year.
Turning to your two friends sharing the cocktail table with you, you hiss,
�Check out the guy at the bar!�
They crane their heads and you hear two delighted gasps.
�Oh, wow.� Nicole breaths. �I�d like some of that.�
�Hey, now, I saw him first.� You protest, jokingly.
Nicole and Kayla exchange a look. �I guess we could let you have him, as a
big favor.�
You sit back and stare at his gorgeous profile. The muscles of his chest
and shoulders are easily visible through the thin green t-shirt he�s
wearing, and black jeans cling deliciously to his narrow hips. His hair is
kinda tufty, like he never even thinks about combing it, but other than that
he looks very clean.
�Well?� Kayla demands impatiently.
�Well, what?�
Your friends roll their eyes. �Get over there and get that guy!�
You blush and stand up. You practice your sexy walk on the way to the bar
and lean against it a few stools down from the alluring stranger to flag the
barkeep.
�Dry martini.� You order huskily, and give the bartender a slow smile. You
settle upon a barstool within easy conversation range and glance at him out
of the corner of your eye. He�s got bushy sideburns. Usually you�re not
into sideburns, but somehow they look very right on this man. Now that
you�re closer, you find him even more irresistible. Its pure animal
magnetism, you decide.
His nostrils flare and his eyes dart to almost meet yours, but you glance
away fast. Just then your drink arrives.
Hoping he�s still watching, you take a sip and start edging out of your
cardigan sweater, revealing the tank top beneath and what you hope is a
judicious amount of skin. Then you do your best �sexy lady eats a martini
olive� routine.
Glancing around the bar, you let your eyes settle upon him. Damn, he looks
totally disinterested. As you sit there trying to come up with another tactic, he suddenly turns and spears you with his eyes.
Your mouth goes dry and you feel like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a
predator. He just stares at you, face expressionless.
Swallowing, you get up the nerve to say something. �What are you having?�
�Whiskey.� He replies, calmly.
You tug at the front of your tank top to reveal some cleavage, trying to be
unobtrusive about it, and lean toward him. �I�ve never seen you in here
before.� You remark.
�I�m just passing through.�
�Oh? Where are you from, then?� You were going to have a conversation with this man, whether he felt loquacious or not.
A shadow crosses his face, the first expression you�ve seen on him and it
looks like dismay. �What�s your name, stranger?� you ask before an
uncomfortable silence can develop.
�Logan.� He finally answers, and the way he says it, it comes out like a
growl.
You smile, sip your martini and wait for him to ask you what your name is.
But he doesn�t. Damn. You�re running out of casual things to say and this
Logan just isn�t very responsive. Too bad, �cause he�s the sexiest guy
you�ve ever seen in this cold town and you want nothing more right now than
to curl into his lap and suck on his neck.
�So where are you headed, Logan?� You finally ask.
�Your place.�
WHAT?! You�re glad you weren�t holding anything, because you definitely
would have dropped it.
�Well,� You say at last after you collect your jaw off the floor. �That was
direct.�
He just looks at you, one brow raised, his eyes the color of milk chocolate.
�You got a place, right?�
Think, is this really what I want to do? You ask yourself. Oh, damn, you�ll always kick yourself if you don�t.
�Yeah, I got a place.�
�Jack!� He calls out to the bartender, �one for the road!�
Jack ambles over. �Gee, I don�t think so. Wasn�t ten whiskeys enough for
you?�
Logan begins to growl low in his throat. �I can handle it.�
�How about a water instead?� Jack offered graciously. You begin to wonder
if this is a good idea. Ten whiskeys? What if he threw up all over your carpet?
You duck back into your sweater and push the martini away, half-drunk.
With a last growl, he pushes away from the bar and prowls to the door.
Yeah, that�s what he�s doing, prowling. Then he turns and looks at you
expectantly. He really doesn�t seem trashed.
A nervous glance at your friends shows them grinning and nodding
encouragement. You sigh and leave the bar at his side.
Out on the street you pull your sweater around you tighter and look
nervously at the guy hulking next to you. He�s only about as tall as you
are, you realize in surprise. For some reason you thought he�d be taller.
�Did you really have ten whiskeys?�
He grins a surprisingly boyish grin. �Yes. But don�t worry, I can handle
myself.�
You give him a dubious look. So he snakes one arm around your back and
pulls you close.
He�s left you room to wiggle free, but you don�t feel like getting free. He
smells like wind and man and whiskey, and his chest is a warm wall in the
cold night. Something inside you that�s never had a rational thought
shivers in pleasure and anticipation.
Fuck it. You think, and grab the nape of his neck, pulling his lips forward
to meet yours. His arms lock around you as he brands you with his tongue.
You part your lips and he proceeds to kiss you breathless with far more
skill than a man supposedly drunk off his ass should be able to accomplish.
�The car�s this way.� You say as you pull away.
After you get in you unlock the passenger door and watch in appreciation as
pure sex appeal climbs into your car. He gives you a predatory smile when
he�s settled and you start the car with shaking hands. You�re actually
taking a stranger home for a one night stand and you can hardly believe it.
As you drive you continually glance over at him and he gives you these
seductive little smiles. Its then that you realize he isn�t wearing his seatbelt.
�Hey, Logan, put your seatbelt on, ok?� You ask.
�I don�t need it.� He replies casually.
�Um, I�d really like it if you put it on.�
He gives a tiny growl.
You frown at him and hope he won�t be stupidly stubborn all night. You let
the car slow down. Logan finally clicks the seatbelt together with an irritated sigh.
You turn on the lights in your apartment and immediately see the pile of
clean but unfolded laundry sitting on the couch. Oh, yeah, that�s sexy, you
think self-consciously. Logan cases the place and ducks his head into the
bedroom.
�Mmm, nice.� He purrs, looking you in the eyes.
He circles around you, making a rumbling sound in his throat. It�s doing
strange things to you, your heart is pounding and you start to breath
faster. He is behind you now, and his hands settle at your hips. They
start caressing up your sides and around to your stomach as he leans down
and nips at your neck. You arch into his touch and cover his hands with
your own as they continue to explore. One lowers to rub along your thigh
while the other sneaks up inside your cardigan to splay across your stomach. He pulls you flush against him and you have never been so turned on so fast.
Impatiently you pluck at your cardigan as he turns you in his arms. Your
eyes are level with his and they are hooded and smoldering, the color of
dark chocolate.
He grabs your hips again and pulls you in snug against one of his muscular
thighs. You grab the front of his plain t-shirt and push upwards till a
massive and hairy chest is revealed. One shrug of his broad shoulders and
the shirt flies away, forgotten.
And oh, what shoulders! Wide and bulging and so hard and smooth under your exploring fingers. The thought of clothes is suddenly anathema. You want skin on skin and lots of it. Your hands continue down his arms to where he is trying to slide your pants down with out unbuttoning the fly first.
That�s not gonna work. So you help him out with the slacks, then pull your
tank top off in one efficient motion. As you�re leaning back with your arms
over your head, he leans down and begins nipping at an upper breast. A few kicks and the slacks are disposed of. Then he�s palming the backs of your thighs and lifting you against him. You quickly lock your arms around his
neck as he teases your legs around his hips. The feel of him between your
naked thighs is like every illicit fantasy you�ve ever had.
Rational and conscious thought is left far behind as he sinks to his knees
and then his haunches, settling you right over his groin. You can feel the
pulsing bulge through his jeans and you grind against it.
You�re rewarded with a gasping growl and you giggle in evil delight. He
punishes you by taking your mouth in the most possessive kiss you�ve ever
experienced. Then his hands are on your breasts, his thumbs sneaking up
underneath your bra. You lean in as he teases your hard nipples and the two
of you manage to wrestle the offending and confining piece of clothing over
your head.
You�ve never taken one off like that before.
But then you�re distracted again as one of his hands finds its way inside
your panties. With no warning he pushes a finger up inside you and you
shout in pleasure. His fingers are drenched as a second finger joins its
mate, teasing a stretching and rubbing. You realize you�re making small
keening sounds and then your world explodes in a paralyzing orgasm.
As you collapse against him, Logan expertly rolls down onto his back. You
stare down into his face in shock. No man had ever done that quite like
that with you before.
He deserved a reward, you decide.
So you start to rub your way down his chest, doing some sucking and nibbling of your own as you go. The perfect, gorgeous, male body beneath you quickly bringing you back to the fires of arousal.
When you�re straddling his thighs a dim thought enters your head. Pants.
Bad.
You scramble to peel off the tight denim and reveal an eye-filling specimen
of manhood.
Swallowing in appreciation, you wrap your hand around it to confirm its
amazing size and hardness.
He gives a fearsome growl and pulls you forward, then down.
You�re suddenly very glad you�re on the pill �cause it doesn�t look like you
guys could take a small break right now. He wants it now.
You lead him to your entrance and slowly slide down his hard shaft. You
gasp in pleasure. The tightness feels incredible and you prolong the moment as long as you can. With an impatient sound he bucks up into you and you keen with lust.
You set up a rhythm that�s slow at first but gradually gains speed. The
waves of pure pleasure are starting to crash against you when your
supporting arm gives out, dead asleep.
�My arm�� You begin, but Logan clearly didn�t like to interruption in your
rhythm because he flips you onto your back and starts a deep, hard
repetition.
Your arm is tingling deadweight on the floor beside you, a strangely erotic
counterpoint to the orgasm building within you.
When it hits, you scream as your back bows and you rap your head smartly
against the floor. Thank god for carpet.
And then you realize�.
�Oh my GOD!� He was still going.
Somehow, a superhuman fuck-machine had come home with you.
But now, finally, he seemed to be finishing, and with a howling cry you�re
sure will wake the neighbors, his seed pumps into you. Caught in his
moment, your instincts screaming for joy, a third orgasm takes you by
surprise.
As the two of you lay there, you don�t even attempt to wonder at what had
just happened, or why the half of him that�s on top of you feels so heavy.
It was just too good to be real.
But then he starts to move, and something soft and light falls on to of you.
You blink and begin to take notice. He�d grabbed your laundry off the couch
and seemed to be making a little nest. You honestly wouldn�t care what he
did right now, and you�re glad for the softness. Your ass was starting to
hurt; rugburn, probably.
He snuggles the both of you deep into the pile and your relaxed body drags
you down into a deep sleep.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
What the hell? You think as you wake up, facedown in laundry in the middle
of your living room. Then you realize that something big and warm is making
a purring noise at your back.
Then you remember.
You twist around to get a look at Logan in the dawn light. His eyes are
silted open and he stares back at you with a small, satisfied smile.
�You�re real?� Wow, that was probably the stupidest question you�ve ever
asked.
A brief look of confusion enters his chocolate eyes. �Yes.�
�Do you�.� You blush. �Do you always, I mean, that was. . . superhuman.�
Now he looks wary. �I don�t remember much.�
You laugh. �I guess you shouldn�t. Ten whiskeys. Unbelievable.� Then you
realize he should have a hangover the size of New Jersey. �How are you
feeling?�
He stretches, dislodging some flannel and giving you and eyeful of muscular
abdomen. �Just fine, baby.�
You enviously wish you could have such a powerful metabolism.
You try to brush some hair out of your eyes and instead get your hand caught
in tangles. �I must look like shit.� You pronounce.
�You�re beautiful.� And the calm, sure way he says it makes you melt
inside.
Then he gives you a considering look. �Tell me about last night.� He
demands quietly.
You turn beet red. This is a morning after experience you�ve never had.
�Um, we met down at the bar, and . . . um, we came here and, well, it was
incredible.�
�We didn�t use a condom.� He remarked worriedly.
�I get horrible cramps if I�m not on the pill.� You fill him in. �Unless
you have some diseases, we should be okay.�
He snorted. �No, definitely no diseases.�
You take this in. �I thought you said you didn�t remember anything.�
He looks a little caught, and doesn�t say anything for a bit. Then he
splays a muscular hand along your thigh. �I remember you.�
You shiver. His spell of hyper-sensuality had not faded with the light of
day. In fact, it was as if he�d just now reached out with his will and
aroused you.
He reaches out and brings your hand to his face. First he nuzzles the
fingers, then you feel his tongue on your palm, licking upwards. When he
reaches your fingertips, he nips at them, gently. He sure did a lot of
nipping, but you approve.
His thumb is playing in the crease between your thigh and abdomen. You
decide that this morning is for exploration. Thank god it�s Saturday.
Shivering with cold and desire, you run your hand across his scruffy cheek
and up into his bristly hair. His hands are far from idle, working their
way up your stomach to brush against the bottoms of your breasts. With
hands now, you caress his face, trying to memorize every detail. You know
you�ll never ever forget the look he�s giving you right now. Need, but
mostly confidence and . . . dominance.
He leans in, his lips hover for a moment above yours and you wait in
delicious anticipation. But then he bends your head back and nibbles along
your jawline instead. How can it be that his slightest touch acts on you
like a drug?
Now nipping and sucking down your neck to the place where collarbone meets sternum, he pushes you down into the pile of laundry.
�Oh, I want to touch every inch of you.� You whimper, clutching at his
upper arms.
�Alright.� He mumbles into your cleavage before rolling to his side next to
you. Staring at the daunting wall of chest in front of your eyes, you wonder what you ever did to deserve this.
First you merely lay a hand on his pectoral, but of course it doesn�t want
to stay still. When you run your thumbnail across a flat nipple, he gives
you a growl and twists deeper into the laundry.
Grinning in self-congratulation, you brace your hands on his shoulders then
lean over to place your mouth on his chest and suck. His chest lifts up as
he pulls in a deep breath. Your face inches from his skin, flawless skin
you realize in appreciation, you run your hands down his front. Splaying
your fingers out along his ribcage, thumbs touching, your pinkies barely
start to curve around his sides. He may be short, but he�s quite wide.
You drag your fingertips down further over the gently rolling muscles of his
abdomen till you get to the tops of his thighs. You sweep a hand down the
outside of his leg, across the knee, and back up the inside. The low sound
in his throat increases in volume and he twitches.
And then you get to the most important part.
Taking his length in your hand, you feel it get longer and harder as you
pull and caress. Soon you lean down and give it a lick. He grabs at your
arm with a hiss of encouragement.
Slowly you take him into your mouth and gently suck at the head. Just as
you�re really getting into it, he pushes you away.
�That�s enough.� He growls hoarsely, spinning you onto your back and
pinning your hands above your head. As he settles himself carefully over
you, you try to twist free of his hold, but his grip is like steel. Those
hands aren�t going anywhere. Too bad.
And then you don�t care so much as his mouth descends to your cleavage,
right where he left off.
His lips and tongue on your skin skillfully bring you to readiness, and then
he nudges your thighs apart. Caught in a web of seduction, you angle your
hips for easy entry, and he slides in with a grunt of satisfaction.
Last night had been hard and fast. This was slow and controlled. But just
as amazing. Pleasure rips through your body as you feel his seed pumping
into you.
Afterwards, he lays next to you, gently stroking your neck. You turn to
look at him, but his eyes are unreadable. �I�d better hit the road.�
�I can�t find my shirt.� He complains.
You look around at the laundry thrown all over your apartment and aren�t
surprised. �I have a few oversized shirts I�m not too attached to.�
He grimaces. �I liked that shirt.�
You finally find a souvenir shirt that says �My boyfriend went to Cancun but
all I got was this lousy t-shirt.� You hand it to him, he reads it, then holds it away from himself as if it were dangerous.
�I think I�ll go as is.�
You walk him, bare-chested, to the door, feeling completely sated but still
wanting more. You want him to stay.
Positioning yourself between Logan and escape, you�re about to say something when he reaches out and gives you a tender kiss that tastes like goodbye. �I have to go.�
�Alright.� You sigh unhappily and sidle out of his way.
You stand in your doorway and stare at the muscles ripple across his back as he walks down the hall to the stairs. When he is gone you realize that he
never asked your name. But there�s a green t-shirt somewhere in your
apartment that smells of him. So in a small way, a part of him is staying,
to remind you always of your night with Logan.
