One Single Ice Cube

A/N: Nothing too naughty yet - I love de long slow seduction. ;) Next chapter will be more, um, substantial for this archive.

Disclaimer! Marvel and Chris Claremont owns ‘em. I don’t know who owns the romantic rut they got our Stormy in -- but drop kicking it in ff, seems a bloomin’ good idea.

Part Two

Remy LeBeau gaped at her, his mouth open. If he had thought the straight-laced goddess would wilt under his intense, practiced seduction; he was being proved wrong in the most salacious way.

Reaching behind her, the fat rectangle of apricot soap found its way into her delicate wet hands, as she earnestly twisted it between her palms. The only sound in the room was the slurping lapping noises of the friction her hands and the soap made, and the odd satisfying hitch in the Cajuns breathing as they continued their battle of wills. Over and over, she fondled and lewdly manipulated the bar of soap between dexterous fingers, rubbing a thumb over the top in a highly suggestive manner, before allowing all fingers to splay and tighten around the thick body. Clench. Release.

A flood of power and heat emboldened her to speak.

“The secret in holding a hard and slippery -- object,” she whispered coyly, tilting her head to regard his briefly amazement expression, “-- is to know just how much pressure and heat you need to apply before you squeeze it into submission.”

Thick, gloopy viscous suds pleasantly squelched between her cocoa-butter fingers, slithering and dribbling across one delicate wrist and sliding down, down, down. He swallowed hard, the sight evoking a deep keening inside his throat. Something primal. Again her blue eyes met his red on black eyelids fluttered suggestively, in a wide-eyed innocent mockery of who-knew-THAT-was-gonna-happen?

Refusing to be a party to his soon to be ex-friends maddening sense of humor, he gritted his teeth and snatched his gaze to anywhere but her. Her soft silvered laugh, taunted him from across the room. She could always read his eyes, no matter what - the truth was there. If he was to stubbornly remain with this woman, he needed an advantage. Secrecy was the plan.

Disregarding her for a moment, Remy quickly went about looking for the dark glasses he kept on him for such emergencies. Usually worn in cases dealing with law enforcement, but ultimately for the same purpose of not getting caught. And tonight, he was definitely in danger of becoming that.

Remy ignored the poutish keen from the otherside of the tub, as his fingers seized upon the dark biker glasses and pushed himself up, swinging his legs over into the water, ignoring the absurdity, quickly trying to unhook the spectacle arms and cover his eyes.

But a combination of flustered desire, sweat and heat made his skin as slippery as the Goddess. With a rough startled cry of anguish from Remy, the glasses fell from his desperate grasp and dropped into the water disappearing below.

Gambits jaw clenched tight, frustration suddenly culminating to anger. Why was it, that everything he needed and desired at this moment was hiding beneath the surface of this tub? Could this get any worse?

His own morbid thoughts stuttered as the calm surface of the water, churned and splashed against the edge of the large bath. Dismayed, Remy leaned slightly backwards to avoid the douse of water sloshing noisily up and over the tiled floor. His eyes widened slightly when he realized that Ororo was no longer any where to be seen. Jolting to a sitting position, tension coiling every masculine nerve, he was about to call to her, but found his voice had gone.

Stolen away in the face of overwhelming desire.


Bubbles parted before her; like the Red Sea before Moses.

Nonchalantly, as gracefully as much at ease, she ascended from the perfumed water, standing inches from his astonished face like some last African Ocean nymph. He could only stare at her loveliness, at her completely lewd, wanton pose and his maddeningly hammering manhood began to assert its mastery over his legendary control. Or lack thereof.

Creamy rivulets of water and soap ran down her body, revealing flushed skin quivering voluptuously beneath. She stood before him for a moment, and he thought he had never seen anything quite so awe inspiring. The breath-taking contours of her body, the taut belly, down further, even the little triangle of ivory curls peeking above the bubbles, which only increased to stir the imagination, setting the mind afire with fantasies of what lay beneath.

Or above.

"Remy?" she asked, a smirk curling at her mouth watching his eyes widen as they slid over her naked form.

"St-Stormy ...?!" her name choked past the Cajuns swollen throat, but that was all. He couldn't say anything else. Gambits sucked in a deep gasping breath trying to keep the pressure in his ears from exploding, his gaze sliding up to the firm, jutting cocoa-warm swell of flesh, slick with frothy suds, slightly trembling with each breath she took. The dark nipples, taut and proud in the cooling air of the quickly approaching evening, provoking a raw desire that spoke to the beast in him.

For the life of him, he couldn’t drag his eyes up to her face. A chill crossed over him, burned across his skin by the sound of her raspy, command.

“My Xman - to me.”

His eyes snapped to her face immediately, discovering just how brazen she could be.

Ororo stood with her long legs slightly spread apart, her head and shoulders pulled back, her hands knuckled provocatively on her proud, flaring hips.

Whatever Remy had intended to say was quickly ground out by the cruel clench of his jaw. For perched on the tip of her nose rested his shades; that had sunk to the bottom of the dark water a few moments ago. One elegant snowy eyebrow raised in perfect arch above the spectacles.

Ororo smiled down at him with her lips parted, her teeth slightly bared, the tip of her quivering pink tongue showing.

“I believe, Remy,” she purred smugly, “I have something you desperately *wanted*?”

End Part Two.