Last Nerve

Later that evening, Emma sat comfortably on the kitchen counter, her smooth, slender legs crossed delicately at the knee. Her dark purple, silk nightgown barely covered her lap and one of the spaghetti straps, hung loosely off her shoulder. Her long satiny blonde hair was tied back from her face in a pony, while she indulged herself in a pint of chocolate ice cream.

The only lingering thought in her mind, was of Logan. From day one, she was attracted to him, intrigued by his roguish good looks and profoundly muscular body. The thought of being turned on by him amused her and frightened her.

Never had she found herself desiring such a man before. Her taste in men considered of those who possessed manors, class and sophistication, all of which Logan didn’t. He was arrogant, ruthless and heartless. Then again, she never came across a man who had the ability to piss her off and arouse her, like she did to him at every chance she got.

In her past experiences with men, they had been easy to manipulate in any way she wanted. She could easily infuriate them one second, then have them screwing her the next. Once she realized that Logan wasn’t going to give in as easily, despite his occasional thoughts of fucking her senseless, it made her want him even more.

Even with Logan being in love with Jean, it meant nothing to her. She didn’t care what it took; she was determined to make Logan forget about Jean. Guessing from his earlier appearance and thoughts, she knew it would only be a matter of time.

Emma grinned sinfully, as she dug out a spoonful of ice cream. Enclosing her full, luscious lips around it, she closed her eyes then slowly pulled the spoon away. She swirled the cool dessert around her mouth with her tongue and a soft moan of satisfaction escaped from her throat.

“Yeah know, they have toys for that shit,” Logan teased gruffly, announcing his presence.

Startled by Logan’s sudden intrusion, Emma’s eyes flew open and she choked back the ice cream. Her head jerked up swiftly, causing her to whack the crown of her head against the wooden cabinet behind her.

“Ah shit!” Emma exclaimed, as she rubbed her head and glared coldly at Logan.

“Sorry,” Logan muttered, as he strode over to the fridge and opened the freezer door. He heard her mumble something on the lines of him being a pampas asshole, but he ignored it. He grabbed a few ice cubes, kicked the door closed with his foot then stuffed the ice into a paper towel he ripped off the dispenser under the cabinet.

“Here, put this on it,” Logan ordered, standing in front of her and holding out the ice-filled towel.

“No thanks, I’m fine,” Emma snarled harshly.

“Cut the shit blondie and get over here,” Logan scowled.

Emma sighed irritably, put her ice cream aside and reluctantly uncrossed her legs. Logan wedged himself between them and placed his free hand on the back of her neck. He tilted her head forward and placed the ice on the growing bump. He couldn’t help noticing how warm and soft her skin was, and how good it felt to touch her that he hadn’t noticed her wince.

“Sorry,” Logan grunted again. As much as she never failed to piss him off, he felt awful right now. His intensions were to catch her off guard, not hurt her. No matter how close she pushed him to the edge, he would never hurt her and deep down they both knew it.

“It’s okay, it’s just cold,” Emma replied softly, as she lifted her head.

A delectable silence fell between them, once their eyes met. It was the first time since they had met, that either showed any sign of compassion towards each other. Suddenly their close proximity became known to both of them. They felt the warmth of their shallow breaths, brushing sensually against their faces. The heat that radiated from their bodies was almost enough to melt the ice Logan still held on Emma’s head.

The smell of her sweet vanilla musk perfume, clouded with a hint of arousal, engulfed Logan’s senses. Every muscle in his body tensed and he felt himself harden. Thoughts of his mouth trailing succulent kisses along her inviting flesh, while his hands roamed purposefully over her breasts, crowded his mind.

Emma tried to act casual, but caught a quick glimpse of Logan’s thoughts. They sent chills down her spine and caused knots to form in her stomach. She shifted sheepishly on the counter, her legs rubbing enticingly against his.

Logan watched her with lust-filled eyes, as she bit down on her lower lip. The urge to replace her teeth with his own, swept over him. He felt his control starting to give way and the desire to ravish her was reaching a dangerous level. He tried to fight it, but when Emma licked her lips, he lost it.

Letting the ice fall hard to the counter, he cupped the back of her head, while his other hand reached down and gripped her hip. Finally, all of Emma’s countless ministrations were paying off and it seemed like forever, as he dipped his head and inched closer to her awaiting mouth.

“…Logan, are you in…” Jean gasped, as she walked into the kitchen. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung slightly ajar. Never had she expected to see Logan and Emma gathered in such an embrace. Her cheeks flushed to a bright pink and a sense of embarrassment rushed over her. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude,” Jean quickly rambled, her shocked eyes falling to stare aimlessly at the floor.

“What do yeah want Jean?” Logan asked harshly, as he released Emma and backed away from her.

“Just to talk…that is if you don’t mind,” Jean requested timidly.

Logan glanced over at Emma, seeing the grimace look on her face. He sensed her disappointment and anger from his abruptness and for the first time it bothered him. He thought of telling Jean to get the hell out so he could finish what he started, but couldn’t. She was concerned about something and needed him.

Granted it wasn’t in the way he would of liked, but after all was said and done, he was still her friend. He couldn’t shrug her off, just so he could fuck some woman on the kitchen counter.

‘She’s not just some woman yeah wanna fuck once you ass, it’s Emma!’ Logan’s mind scolded him. Logan took a step back, suddenly realizing why he went along with her crude torment. All this time he thought he cared for Emma in a teammate kind of way, despite the many times she gave him a hard-on, he actually did care for her.

Emma studied Logan carefully, puzzled by his standoffish behavior. ‘Could he possibly be thinking of staying?’ Emma asked herself. Carefully, she probed his mind and found him torn between leaving and staying. He wanted to be there for Jean as her friend, but wanted to stay more than anything.

Emma frowned to herself, she didn’t want him to leave and despite her need for his attention, she didn’t want him to stay either. After all, Logan and Jean were friends and if Jean truly needed Logan’s help, Emma couldn’t deny her that.

“What are you waiting for, an invitation to get out of my face?” Emma hissed, regaining her composer.

Logan eyed her curiously, wondering if her comment was said with honest anger towards him, or if it was just her way of saying it was okay to go. Even though she glared coldly at him, he saw the understanding in her eyes.

“Don’t count on it blondie,” Logan grunted, trying to hold back a grin, before stalking out of the kitchen.

Jean hesitated for a moment and looked over at Emma. An uneasy sensation swept over them both, as they exchanged stern glances, filled with curiosity and jealousy. Nervously, Jean broke their eye contact and swiftly made her way after Logan.


Logan stood out on the patio, sniffing earnestly at the chilled winter air. He favored this time of year more than any other. Everything about it seemed fresh and primitive. It was feast or be famine and everyone for themselves. It was survival at its finest, something Logan could easily relate to.

Again, Logan inhaled deeply, before plucking a cigar from the front pocket of his flannel shirt. He wrapped his lips around the tip, cocked his head to the side and flicked the lighter he gripped in his hand. As he lit the cigar and clouds of smoke shaded his face, he looked over at Jean.

She stood there in her gray, silk pajamas with her arms snaked tightly around her body to help keep her warm. Strands of her soft red hair swayed across her face in the gentle breeze and she shivered from her lack of appropriate attire.

Logan grinned around his cigar, forgetting how quickly she got cold compared to him. He stuffed the lighter in his pocket then peeled off his flannel shirt, leaving him in just his white tank. Stepping closer to her, he swung the shirt around her shoulders and Jean gripped it tightly as she pulled it closed.

“Thanks,” Jean uttered softly.

“So, what was it yeah wanted to talk about?” Logan inquired, as he took a puff of his cigar and shifted his gaze towards the open grounds. He had a feeling she wanted to discuss her engagement to Scott, sensing her nervousness. He was hoping to avoid it and since she was about to bring it up, he just wanted it over and done with.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Jean replied with concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Logan asked gruffly, as he rolled the cigar between his fingers and gazed aimlessly at it.

“Logan, I’m serious,” Jean affirmed sternly, “I know how you…”

“Jeannie, I’m fine,” Logan grunted, cutting her off. He didn’t need for her to tell him how he felt about her or the engagement, he was well aware of how he felt about it all. All he wanted to do was move on and forget his feelings. It was a strategy he believed was all ready beginning to work.

Jean stood there quietly for a moment, sensing that this conversation was now closed, despite her urge to continue it. She knew he wasn’t one to talk things out, especially when it came to things like this. He had his own way of dealing with things, even if it meant bottling them up inside. Not wanting to upset him by pressing the issue, she sighed in defeat.

She shrugged his flannel shirt off her shoulders and held it out to him. He glanced down at it and then back up at Jean, a twinge of sadness lingered in both of their eyes. This was it, he thought, the moment he dreaded. Even with something as simple as handing him back his shirt, to him it was like the final nail being driven into a coffin.

Logan sighed heavily, every muscle in his chest ached. Sorrowfully, he reached out and took back his shirt. Jean offered a faint smile, hoping it would help to ease the pain he tried so desperately to hide, before walking back into the school. Logan gripped the shirt in his fist and a low mournful growl escaped his throat, as he too reluctantly succumbed to defeat.