Vermilion

by Trisha L. Sebastian

She awoke to a low throaty growl in her ear, the feeling of a warm male body next to hers. Jean turned over and burrowed deeper into his shoulder, tangling her fingers in the abundant hair on his chest.

She did it.

She slept with Logan.

Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She had sex with Logan.

They fucked. Several times. She could still hear his animal-like growl of triumph as he emptied himself into her, on her. On the cold, cold ground with the sharp stink of oil nearby. With the breeze blowing in from the unpatched hole in the roof.

She'd begged for his touch. He bit her in a couple places. She'd bitten him, too. Jean inhaled deeply and closed her eyes as she took in the heady scent of male, female and sex.

He was still asleep, the poor man. She had worn him out.

She! Her! Jean Grey, the original poster girl for mutancy, had sex with Wolverine. And it was everything she'd imagined in her darkest fantasies.

It was tender at first. He touched her gently, as if she would break if he breathed on her. But then as his need grew, she felt his control break. He breathed his special name for her into her ear as he nuzzled at her earlobes. She raked her nails down his back, feeling the welts disappear under her fingertips.

He made her feel alive, so alive. Her nerve endings tingled with the sensations of his hands mauling her breasts. She must have moaned his name a dozen times as she climaxed, bucking under him, then grinding on top of him.

And as he sunk finally into exhaustion, he whispered her name again, followed by three little words: "Love ya, Red."

She had known that he loved her. Who didn't? Who couldn't see the naked longing between them when they first met? Of course it could have been the night air or just a way to relieve battle stress, but there were definite sparks between them.

Jean had never been needed like the way he needed her. You could see it in his eyes whenever he looked at her. Every time, she would be the first to look away. The first to deny that attraction between them.

It wasn't right.

He was wrong for her.

It wasn't right.

But it felt so good. Jean trailed her fingers up and down his chest, touching him lightly, but not consciously trying to wake him up. She knew that if she wanted to, she could have him again, and again.

He would do anything for her.

Like Sc--

Jean inhaled his scent. It was so strong, so heady. Like the smell of the forest on a rainy night, all dank and dark and green. She'd always wanted to run wild with him. Deep down, she envied Kitty and Jubilee. They had the honor of holding his trust, being able to be wild with him.

They didn't have to worry about the day to day running of the business of being heroes. About breaking up the little fights that sprang up between factions, between groups. Trying to figure out what to do for breakfast, who's going shopping for supplies.

The only one who could understand that kind of work was Sc--

Jean turned over onto her back, cradling Logan's head with her hand. He was so distant lately. Like everything was his fault. Like he could have done something to save them from Bastion.

To save her.

Why didn't he reach out to her? It was so frustrating to be so blind to him. Every time she tried to reach out to him, she ran straight up against a wall that didn't used to be there. How could she be able to tell what he was feeling?

She tried to reach out to him, but she couldn't. Every thing she tried failed. She tried, she really tried.

Maybe she didn't try hard enough.

She felt so blind all the time. It's like losing a leg. Or your heart. No one, save another telepath, could understand what she was going through.

But he tried. He really, really tried.

And she turned him away.

A single tear leaked out of the corner of Jean's eye as one thought kept running through her mind.

"Oh god... what have I done?"

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