X-Men Temptation

He walks into a room and I don't know if I want to punch or kiss him. I've never felt that way before and it terrifies me. Yes, me, Scott Summers team leader of the X-Men. Through the years I've learned to suppress my thoughts, to hide my emotions, but when Logan's around that seems harder to do. He knows he's driving me crazy. Hell, he even revels in the pleasure he derives from it, but tonight much like every other night I try to ignore him. Reaching for the dials on the shower, I simply adjust the temperature controls allowing myself to focus on the warmth of the water—on the way that it pours out from the showerhead over my body. It's hot and heavy, scalding my skin, but it won't be enough to burn the thoughts out of my head. As much as I wish I could ignore them, they are still there lingering and surrounding my mind with madness.

His footsteps grow nearer and my heart races. I know he can sense it. He can smell my apprehension and fears, but he also knows of my lust and eagerness. I know he'll linger, simply watching me when I reach for my soap, but I still fight to pretend, to ignore my pulse in the hopes that tonight I'll be strong enough to fight it. If only tonight I could walk away from temptation. His heavy footsteps are behind me, a mere few feet away from what little sanity I still cling to, but it's no use. Once his hands are on me I know there's no winning this battle. There's no point in pretending any longer. I'm his much as I've been from the moment he walked into our lives. He'll use me, hold me captive to my desires, only to push me further than I'd ever anticipated and when it's over, we'll both go back to pretending—to behaving as if neither one of us experienced this. We'll go back to field leader and reluctant soldier, at odds to those around us, fighting and arguing to the point that we drive everyone around us insane, but for tonight we're lovers caught up in forbidden moment of passion and temptation.

It's the last thing anyone anticipated especially from me, but when it gets down to it there's no avoiding the truth. Logan's more than a passing flirtation and the more I have of him, the less likely I am to want to let go. I've never been good with temptation and giving in to my wants and desires. It's always been about instinct and calculated measures. I've always been one step ahead of the game, but with Logan, all the rules have changed. My control isn't what it should be when the stoic man I've become falls into desire, lost in a world of emotion I vowed to push out of my life.

Pain and pleasure intermingle when our mouths collide. The steam builds around us, surrounding us in need when Logan's lips crush against mine. I feel him push me up against the shower wall, but this time I push back fighting what will inevitably happen between us. He smirks, a feral, animalistic grin just as wild and ravenous as he is. He knows that I'm pushing his buttons and he rather enjoys the chase. He dives in for another kiss. It's excruciating and dominant in a way that's undoubtedly going to leave marks when his teeth sink into the side of my neck. I feel the urge to resist, to fight him a bit before I give in. I know he likes it that way. The truth is perhaps I like it more. We begin this dance again engaged in this battle for dominance. It's hard and heavy, almost violent when his arm surrounds my waist. I offer up a small protest, one that is appropriately timed before his lips crush mine asserting his dominance. For tonight I give in, allowing him the moment as our bodies intertwine giving in to an instinct—to a need that neither one of us are bold enough to speak of around the others.

Tonight we're lovers. Tomorrow we're reluctant teammates on the front line fighting side by side as soldiers, but for the here and now we're intense, passionate and out of control in ways that the rest of the world would never understand. I feel Logan's breath over my shoulder, his hands bruising my hips, pushing me beyond any and all rationality when I think about just how wrong this is, yet I'm overwhelmed with how very right it feels. It's against everything I was raised to believe in to submit myself to someone in such a fashion, but with Logan he makes it feel less like a violation of all that I am and more like a new beginning. With him I find freedom and passion in ways that no one would ever begin to comprehend. Beyond the hatred and rage is something deeper—something even more frightening than either one of us wants to face.

When it's over I feel him press a small kiss on the dip between my neck and my shoulder, his hand sliding over my abdomen when he washes away the evidence of our entanglement. I resign myself to the moment savoring the way I've driven him to distraction, to the feel of his arms surrounding me with the small pant that still carries over his lips. Most of the time he's hard and heavy, but with me in these moments when our lust fades away he feels just right melting against me savoring the calm after the storm when our passion lends itself to something more. He says nothing, but merely presses his lips against my shoulder, offering up a chaste kiss when he reaches for the dials to turn the now chilled water off. In silence we stand together, him holding me up as I'm too shaky to even consider moving let alone allowing myself to speak when he kisses the back of my neck again. This time he's lingering, taking his time to hold me in ways that terrify me. I can tell he's uncertain as well when he reluctantly lets go of me. He's hesitant, much slower tonight in his retreat, yet when he leaves I simply wait, staggering behind in the shower before returning to responsibility and my room in knowing there's no avoiding what's happening between us. We're both in denial, both pretending that this is enough, but with each encounter it becomes more. It evolves into something that we both tried to pretend was simply because of Jean. However, that voice inside of me reminds me that it stopped being about Jean a very long time ago. To acknowledge that with words would make it more confusing, however. It would almost cheapen what's happening between us somehow.

I keep my eyes closed tightly listening to his staggering footsteps leading him back to his room to stew over what we've shared. I know I should say something—that a part of me should pull him back, but instead I merely wait fighting to repress the memory before I dry myself off. Once I know he's gone I turn the water back on attempting to wash away the guilt, to hide what I've done from the woman that's waiting in my bed wondering where I've been. A part of me knows she's aware of what's happening—that she was aware of it long before I was ready to face it, yet we skirt around the issue. We simply avoid it even though I can tell she's aware of what's going on with Logan and I. When he walks into a room her face gives her away, which causes me to feel guilt, yet nothing changes. I can't discard this ritual, can't banish it from my mind. Hell, I know a part of me wouldn't want to, yet each night when it's over I get dressed, work my way back into my room, back into our bed where I simply resign myself to my responsibility. With her it's easy. It's complicated and wonderful, but I know it's love. In her own way Emma understands me in ways I can't even begin to understand myself. I'm sure that's why she hasn't called me out on my actions, yet with each betrayal a part of me feels hollow, empty in knowing that I should give her more. She's wonderful—incredible in so many ways that I can't imagine my life without her, yet I can't refuse Logan. He's every bit as much a part of me as the air I breathe. I know that now. Perhaps I always did.

Walking into our bedroom I see her in bed lost in her dreams. Perhaps they will be enough to make up for my distance when I slide underneath the blankets beside her. For a moment I wait listening to the sound of her breathing, wondering if she can smell him on me buried beneath lavender and soap. However, she simply curves in against me, bringing her slender arm around my waist. She lays her head against my chest as if I'm the only man—as if I can live up to all of her expectations of me. I love her. I realized that a long time ago, but Logan…he's an obsession, a need and a thirst that can never truly be quenched. He's so deeply embedded in my system that the idea of letting go simply doesn't feel like an option.

"Rough night, love?" Emma questions in a small slur when she nestles in over my bare chest.

"No more than usual," I murmur feeling guilty all over again when thoughts of Logan consume me.

"You sure?" she questions in a knowing tone. Her eyes are closed, but I can already feel the warmth of her press into my mind. She knows that I know she's there, yet neither one of us say anything about it. I close my eyes terrified of the invasion, yet I let her linger realizing she's already aware of my duplicity. She's witnessed my deepest, darkest thoughts and yet…

"Try to sleep Scott," she murmurs in a small breath of a whisper, "I'm certain you'll have delicious dreams tonight."

"Emma," I began finding myself at a loss when her hand slides up over my chest resting in over my apprehensively beating heart.

"I know I will," she simply responds when her curves seem to melt into me. A moment later I feel myself at peace, surrounded by exhaustion and tranquility when I find myself overtaken with thoughts and feelings about the most infuriatingly wonderful man I've ever known. He's reckless and wild, yet everything I've ever longed for when Emma snuggles in closer to me. She seems contented, lost in the moment when I finally am at ease enough to squeeze her closer. My thoughts return to Logan, to the shower and our unspoken arrangement. It overwhelms me, causes me to fight to contain myself when Emma's soft, seductive voice pulls me from my thoughts with a seductive lull.

"Though next time perhaps you'll consider bringing Logan back to bed with you," Emma suggested with a hint of mischievous curiosity as my eyes open once again in realizing she's finally found the boldness to call me out on my duplicity. Before I can respond, she follows up her words with a soft, lingering kiss when she slides over me. Pressing her elbows into the mattress, I see through the shadows that her lips are curved upwards in a curious, bewildered grin when she leans down to whisper in my ear, "I certainly wouldn't mind."

And in that moment I suddenly find myself realizing that perhaps Emma might very well be on to something after all. The tension that I carried in my shoulders eases up, leaving me to simply ponder the notion when she settles in over my chest. Her lush curves brush up against my chest reminding me again of her softness and warmth. She's a contrast to Logan and yet an enigma in and of herself when her suggestion carries over me. I indulge it for a moment, contemplating her request when she snuggles in over me half awaiting my answer. Instead I remain silent feeling her press into my head, seeking out my thoughts when I simply surround her with the words I haven't dared to speak aloud while weighing out the consequences.

_"I'll consider it…"_


End file.
