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They’d driven for hours. The initial adrenaline of their flight from the mansion had worn off, leaving a sort of gritty edged exhaustion. Marie struggled against the heaviness of her eyelids, but could feel herself losing the battle. The sun was up now, which added a surreal feeling to the atmosphere inside Professor Summers’ Mazda, and the warmth of its rays against her green nightgown only contributed to her tiredness.
Marie had to admit, as many times she’d thought about fleeing the mansion with Logan, she’d never quite pictured herself in her nightgown while John and Bobby tagged along. Plus, the strained silence hadn’t abated since she’d handed Logan his tags, and she was more then ready to get to Bobby’s house so she could have some space.
Bobby’s voice came suddenly from behind the passenger seat and Marie jumped slightly. She’d almost fallen asleep, lulled by the sound of tires on the road, the air conditioning on low, and Logan’s slow, even breathing.
“It’s that house on the left.”
Marie looked over at Logan as he eased off the gas slightly and she noticed the slightest tensing of his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. He didn’t glance at her, but Marie noticed his eyes darting around Bobby’s house, assessing, calculating…
Logan pulled up around the side of the house and the four of them quickly exited the car and moved up to the porch. Bobby bent down beside the front door to retrieve a spare key from a hide-a-key rock shaped like a pug. Logan snorted, whether in amusement or disgust at the sparse security measure, she couldn’t tell.
Bobby let them inside and Logan quickly closed the door behind them. “Mom, Dad…Ronny. Is anybody home?”
When no answer came, Bobby glanced back at Marie, noticing her nightgown, eyes lingering on her exposed skin. “I’ll try to find us some clothes.” Then, glancing at John’s continued flicking of the lighter added, “Don’t burn anything,” before he headed in search of some spare outfits.
“I’m gonna take a look around,” Logan said as he moved to the room off the entry way. John headed toward the living room, and Marie stood frozen, debating which way to go, who to follow. She had to admit she had no real interest in poking around Bobby’s home. Maybe she’d see how Logan was getting on. She hadn’t had a real chance to talk to him alone, not since he’d gotten back.
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Logan didn’t hear anyone else in the house. He could smell there was a cat running around somewhere, but everything else was quiet. He noted the quiet click and hum of the air conditioning kicking on, the fridge motor, and the sound of bird song in the morning light.
He could hear Bobby rummaging around in the attic, probably looking for somethin’ for Marie to wear, thank fuck. It was wrong that he’d noticed. Wrong that he’d wanted to look at her more than was necessary.
Fuck wrong, came a low growl. All that skin, nothin’ could be more right than to-
Logan stifled his own growl and shut down the base line of thoughts and images the Wolverine was feedin’ him. Nothin’ good could come of that. Nothin’.
He made his way through the house, checking the exits and windows when he spotted himself in a hallway mirror. Rusty splotches of blood stained his white ribbed tank top, and had dried in crusty patches on his skin. He exhaled in frustration as he thought of the encounter with Stryker, eyes closed as he fought to gather the strands of memory that eluded him.
Logan turned back toward the master suite down the hall, sure he’d be able to find a t-shirt in Drake’s dad’s room. He didn’t bother shutting the door behind him as he stripped off the tank top and tossed it on the bed. He didn’t want anything to get in the way of hearing someone approaching. As he started opening and closing dresser drawers, searching for something suitable to wear, he heard the soft padded sound of bare feet edging along the wooden floor. After inhaling, he relaxed, recognizing her scent. He didn’t call out to her. Somethin’ about the way she was approaching him, quiet and slow, entirely unlike the bold as brass way she’d hitched a ride two years ago, had him sitting back, eager to see what she’d do.
He found what he was lookin’ for after the fourth drawer; a plan white tee, tucked beneath a couple of worn-out blue shirts, splattered with white paint. He shook out the shirt, catching a small movement in the mirror above the dresser. He knew it was her, but why wasn’t she sayin’ anything?
Let her watch, came the suggestion. And Logan fought hard against the sudden thrill, realizing she was watching him.
Logan couldn’t make himself call out to her, to let her know he knew she was there. She wanted to spy on him? So be it.
He moved toward the bathroom, grabbing the tank top from the bed and throwing the door open wide to flick on the light. A large mirror hung above the twin sinks and he turned on the faucet splashing the cool water against his blood-crusted skin. He heard the quick inhale of breath as water ran down his chest and he reveled in the dark feeling of pleasure at the sound.
Logan moved slowly, grabbing the tank top and soaking it beneath the running water before returning it to his skin. He knew he should stop baiting her, fuckin’ knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. There was a delectable, sweet earthiness seeping through the air, and he suppressed another growl as he realized it was the scent of an aroused Marie.
He couldn’t stop his hands as they reached for the belt buckle at his hips. The water had trickled down, leaving a cool trail of droplets that dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans. He had to wipe it up, didn’t he? Didn’t want any stray blood droplets around…
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Marie slowly and quietly began to back away, her feet nearly silent as she retreated down the hall. She knew she had to leave as soon as Logan’s jeans dropped past his hips to the bathroom floor. Her mouth was dry, heart in her throat, body loose and tingling. She shouldn’t have followed him. Or maybe she should have just called out to him. She didn’t know what to do.
She couldn’t turn away, even as she retreated, eyes glued to the sight of all that skin, admiring the way the muscles bulged as he flexed and cleaned himself. As a result, she didn’t notice the decorative table behind her and she grimaced as she bumped into it. Her eyes flew to the mirror and she felt the blood drain from her face as she met his eyes. He’d known she was there. Oh, god. What now?
Put on some damn clothes, came the surly growl in her head.
Marie gulped. Guess it was time to find Bobby.