Another Life

Part 6

I don't know how long I'd been sitting out here. Long enough to feel the cold seeping into my metal bones, but I didn't care. The rain was coming down hard, soaking through my clothes, the sound of it pounding on the roof above like a drum. It was almost enough to drown out the thoughts swirling in my head.

After a fight with Scott, I needed to clear my mind, so I found my usual spot out back. The old oak tree had seen better days, just like me, but it was still standing. Just like me. I leaned against the rough bark, letting the rain wash over me, feeling the sting of it on my skin. It was good. It was something real. Something I could hold on to.

I was just about to light up a cigar when I heard it— a sound barely audible over the rain. Footsteps. Light, quick, coming toward me. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. I could smell her perfume, that soft, familiar scent that always seemed to hang in the air whenever she was near.

"Logan," Jean called, her voice louder than the downpour. I didn't move, didn't say a word. Just kept staring out into the rain, the cigar still unlit in my hand.

She came closer, her footsteps splashing in the puddles. "Logan, what are you doing out here?" She asked, concern lacing her tone. "You're gonna catch a cold." I finally turned my head to look at her. She was soaked through, her red hair clinging to her face, her clothes sticking to her skin. She looked beautiful. Too fucking beautiful. And I knew right then and there that I was in trouble.

"What do you want, Jean?" I asked, my voice rough and raw.

She stepped closer, close enough that I could see the rain running down her face, mixing with the tears in her eyes. "I wanted to find you," she said softly. "I needed to talk to you."

I shook my head, turning away. "I don't think there's much to say, Darlin. Not after what happened back there."

"I don't care about that," she said, her voice firm. "I care about you."

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to stay calm. "You got a funny way of showing it."

She hesitated, just for a second, then took another step forward, closing the distance between us. "Logan...I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry for all of it."

I didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know if I even could say anything. So I just sat there, staring at her, the rain puri by down around us.

And then, before I could even blink, she was on me. Her hands grabbing the front of my shirt, her lips crashing against mine. It was like a bolt of lightning, a shock straight to my core. I froze for a second, caught off guard, but then my instincts took over, and I kissed her back.

It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was hungry for desire, desperate, like we'd both been holding back for too long. Her hands were in my hair, pulling me closer and I slid my hand down her back, slipping my hand into the top going inside of her pants, cradling her perfect ass. I shoved my tongue between her lips, swirling around meeting her's. She melted against me instantly.

"Logan..." she breathed against my mouth, her voice shaky, I didn't answer. I couldn't. I just kissed her harder, deeper, pouring my everything I had into that kiss. All the frustration, all the longing, everything I'd kept bottled up for so damn long. And she continued fiercely. Jean pulled her lips away from mine and bit my bottom lip pulling it with her pearly white teeth. She was drowning in this kiss as much as I was, she needed this just as much as I did.

I don't know how long we'd been kissing but it felt  like eternity, intertwined together by our tongue's .

But then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. Jean pulled back, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, her eyes wide, filled with something like regret. "I...I shouldn't have done that," she whispered, her voice breaking.

I reached for her, my hand brushing against her cheek, she didn't pull away, she embraced it putting the weight of her face into my hand.

"Jean..." I started, but before I could say anything else, she turned and ran, disappearing into the rain.

I watched her go, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind a mess of thoughts and emotions. I wanted to go after her. I wanted to pull her back into my grasp and never let go.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Movement. A shadow in the window of the house, just behind the curtain. He was watching us, his face twisted with anger, with betrayal. I could see the pain in his eyes, the fury, the disbelief.

He'd seen everything. And from the look he wouldn't let it go. But I didn't care. Not anymore. Jean had been mine. She'd chosen me. And that was everything I needed.