Title: Tender Poison
Author: Kia Mira
Email: kia_mira@bellsouth.net
Fandom: X-Men (movie)
Rating: Not more than R.
Summary: I was asked for NC-17, but was unable to write it no matter how I went about it. It felt wrong. So I went back to the first two stories and I realized that the character's were at a starting point, not as far along as would make a sex scene appropriate. And as Jaded so lovingly said. I give y'all NC-17 and will do so again. Sorry if anyone is disappointed. I just felt that the emotional connection was more important than the physical.
Category: Rogue/Logan Romance
Disclaimer: Own them? Let me see...I own a stack of bills, a car, and some rather questionable plots. Nope, don't see 'em anywhere. So I guess that means no, I don't own them and the afore mentioned bills should prohibit any law suits.
Archive: Sure Haven and anyone with one of my stories can, but if you want it ask and I'll let ya have it.

She can't know what she is doing to me. The sight of her bare arm raised and the soap bubbles sliding over her flesh. A seductive sight this innocent caress. Her voice is husky as she directs me to put her cloths, my cloths actually, on the counter. I am unable to speak at first. My mind a blank.

The steam rising from the water is thick with the delicate fragrance of her perfume mingled with the womanly scent her body creates. It was the mingling of the two scents that set me out one afternoon to the mall of all the god forsaken places to buy the bath gel. I meant to give it to Marie for her birthday last month, but instead I had given her one of my favorite books. A first edition of Thoureau's, 'Walden'.

The perfume had seemed to intimate at the time. It would have called to much attention from the other's. As well as Marie herself. I inhale deeply of the fragrant air and turn to leave. I am stopped by a tiny hand on my thigh. My whole body has just lept up a notch and I stand completely still.

"Ma-rie!" it is a warning growl and she knows it. Her eyes widen. and the pulse at her neck marches quickly on as she runs her slight hand to the inside of my knee. I groan. I'll be damned if little Marie didn't know how to play me. She looks down shyly, "Ah liked your song, Logan." I stare mesmirized by that beating pulse. She is enjoying herself. I can tell this because she has that damned Mona Lisa smile as she slips her hand down and away from my leg.

Which is still in ridged shock at the mere thought of Marie reachin' out to touch it. I am transfixed as my gaze leaves the pulse and skims the surface of the bubble covered water. I know that beneath that velvet sea she is bare and my body reacts. I can feel the animal in me raise his head and howl for her. Want and need warring for top billing in my emotion filled heart and head.

As the words of the song in the next room become clear my eyes rush to hers. I can see in them a mirror of my own deepily held feelings. My want and need for her is a shadow compared to the desire i see in her eyes. It is that moment that I realize that it is not just me she desires. It is touch. It is exceptence. It is a desire to be seen for what she is and not what she isn't. Her desire to be whole.

This is going to be hard. My body is demanding one thing. The very thing she is getting ready to ask for, but my head is telling me it will be a mistake.

I watch as her pupils dialate and her breathing stops. Her lips part and I am afraid to hear what she is going to say. I have to head her off before we end up someplace we can't get away from.

"Logan," she starts her voice soft and almost timid. I have to stop her. It is not easy but I reign in my bodies baser impulse to shed it's cloths and join her in the tub. Which would be folly even if this situation wasn't so-wrong. The wrong place. The wrong time. And if my thoughts are correct. The wrong reasons.

"Listen, kid-" I start shifting my feet as I stand beside the tub willing my body to remain steadfast. "Finish your bath and well talk later." At my use of the word kid her eyes widen and then I see that other emotion. The emotion that has just been below the surface for the last few days. Hell the last year. I see her hand move and am shocked as soapy water splashes against the front of my jeans and button down shirt. "Hey!" I yelp and am disgusted that the unmanly sound was uttered.

"Gawd, Logan!" she says her voice is low and her eyes glint with a kindling inferno of anger and dispare. "I thought of everyone here you at least-huh-forget it!" She turns away from me. I can almost hear her mental doors slamming shut behind me. In front of me. Closing me off from my one true companion in this school. The only person I have ever been truly happy with without all the trappings of social niceties. Happy because we are the same she and I. I am the loner longing for understanding. Alone by choice looking for the truth of my past so that I might someday know myself. She is made alone by her traitorous skin. She seeks understanding. That of the others. Alone as she searches for understanding of her future. I sigh. We two are as one in so many ways. my body argues that we should also venture into this next step.

"Marie?" I can tell that I have hurt her as she sits her head turned away from me. So I kneel beside her on the cold tile floor and feeling like a bull in a china shop I reach a hand toward her hair. It is still damp from the rain. I grasp the few white strands and tug it so that it is across her cheek. "We aren't to that place yet." I say. Her eyes are on me now and I can see the tears. "sssshhhh..." I wrap my finger with her hair and then gently wipe away the tears that have fallen. "Don't cry." My voice is rough with pent up emotions. My body is in hyperdrive and my brain can barely form a coherrant sentence. I have fire running up my arm originating in the fingers that are wrapped in her silken hair. "Don't rush this Marie."

She looks as though she wants to disagree with him. So I slide my silk covered fingers across her lips. "We have so much time." Her lips tremble as I caress them with the softness of her hair and her eyes close about half way. "We have time to touch." I run the fingers from her lips to her cheek again. "It doesn't have to happen here and now. We have all the time in the world." I unravel the hair from my fingers. "This is something that can be so much more than the others understand. So much more than a few hasty caresses in the wake of our torn emotions."

My eyes linger on her face and then her neck and sink ever lower as I gaze at the pale crest of her breasts half hiden by the dwindling bubbles. "More than even I can imagine." I place my hand on the water just skimming the surface above them. My eyes are on my hand as it swirls in circular motion. My body responds to the intimacy of the near caress. "More than touch. More than desire" She is still. Unnaturally so. Her eyes once heavy are wide as I return mine to hers. "You don't know how much my body wants yours. How much me heart beats to have you, but in my head I know..." I have to stop for a moment. The effort to speak a super human feat.

"We could be so much more, but we need to take this slow." My voice is so low it is a mere growling of the words. My body is in deep protest of my honorable intentions. To sooth it I run my hand down her body our flesh seperated by the cooling bath water and the satin bubbles. I follow my hands movements and watch as the bubbles shift and move revealing then covering her naked body. It is to much and I have to get out of here. I start to shift away, but am stopped by the feel of her wet hand on my chest. I watch as the bubbles that hung from her fore arm slide to her elbow. I cannot resist. I put the fingers of my other hand to the bubbles and shift them moving them along her arm. I watch as gooseflesh appears along the trail I have forged. And I close my eyes my mind painting pictures of her entire body reacting to the touch. I inhale deeply again and move my hand from from the water and drop the one at her elbow to my side. With a growl of frustration I stand. Her hand still on me it's fingers tracing the length of my body from chest to knee as I stand up. It leaves a trail of fire as I take a deep breath inhaling again the scent of her mingled with the haunting fragrance of her perfume, but it is different now. It is unmistakablily tender poison exoticily scented with her rising desire and tempered by masculine arousal.

It is truly the most tender poison that enters my viens as I reign in my desire to pick up a wash cloth and touch all of her. I wonder idealy if I am man enough for this woman. If I will be able to hold myself back for her or if I will succomb to the poison she releases through out my body. Starting in my heart.