Another Life

Part 10

I had a feeling something was coming, something big. But I wasn't expecting Charles to call an emergency meeting after breakfast.

When he did, his voice was as calm and composed as always, but there was an edge to it. He laid out the details of a mission— something about a new mutant stirring up trouble a few towns over. It wasn't anything we hadn't handled before, but there was a sense of urgency in his tone. A sense that this needed to be dealt with now.

Scott was quick to volunteer, of course. Always the solider, always ready to jump in headfirst. Most of the others followed his lead. I watched them file out of the room, eager for action, leaving behind the tension of the past few weeks. The tension that still clung to every damn corner of this mansion like a thick fog.

Jean stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes distant. She wasn't going with them, I knew that much. Charles had insisted she stay behind, probably sensing the strain between Jean, Scott and I.

When everyone else had left, the mansion seemed to exhale, releasing a breath it had been holding in. The silence was heavy, but not as uncomfortable as it had been. It was just me and Jean, along with the children down the hall.

I wandered the halls with a pocket full of unlit cigars. My thoughts tangled, my emotions raw. I didn't have a plan, I never did. I just went with my instincts, and right now they were screaming at me to go to her.

Before I knew it, I was standing outside her door, my hand raised to knock. I hesitated, just for a moment, but then I pushed it open and walked in. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands, lost in thought. She looked up abruptly when I entered, eyes widening a bit.

"Logan," she breathed, her voice a mix of surprise and something else that sent a jolt in my chest.

I didn't say a word. Couldn't find the right ones. Instead, I crossed the room in a few steps, stopping in front of her. I could feel the heat radiating off her skin, witnessing the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.

"Logan, what are you..." she started, but I cut her off.

"Enough, Jean," I said, my voice low but full of determination. "Enough with the dancing around it. Enough with the pretending. I can't... I can't keep doing this."

She looked up at me, her eyes widening, searching. I could see the conflict there, the confusion, but also the longing. The same longing that had been gnawing at me for years now.

"Logan, I..." she trailed off, her voice getting caught in her throat.

I leaned down, close enough that I could feel her breath on my skin. "No more games, Jean. No more lies. Not to me, and not to yourself."

She didn't. Move, didn't pull away. And that was all the invitation I needed.

I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her thin lips. Hard. Desperate. Like I'd been starving for it— and hell, maybe I had. She gasped against my mouth, her hands grabbing at my shoulders, holding on like I was the only thing keeping her grounded.

For a moment, I thought she might push me away. That she'd come to her senses and realize this was wrong, that we shouldn't be doing this, but she didn't. She kissed me back just as fiercely, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.

Time seemed to blur after that. I wasn't sure how long we stood there, lost in each other, but eventually, we stumbled back toward the bed, falling into it in a tangle of limbs. I was half-expecting into her to stop, to tell me this was a mistake but she never did. She pulled me down with her, her body warm and soft beneath me. She whipped around and straddled her legs around me, sitting on my lap, my pants getting tighter from my erection.

We didn't talk. Didn't need to. Every touch, every kiss, said everything that words never could. I felt like I was coming alive for the first time in years, like I was finally where I was supposed to be.

She unbuckled my belt without her lips leaving mine, sliding down my jeans. I urgently ripped her shirt off of her exposing her pushed up tits that were help together by a lace red bra.

I unhooked her bra, watching it slide off of her body. I kissed her left nipple and then the right, trailing my lips up her bust, to her neck, meeting her lips once again.

She dug her finger nails into my chest as I entered inside of her, gripping her hips tightly. She was gasping for air as if she was suffocating, desire flooded her eyes.

Jean slid up and down on my dick effortlessly taking me all in. I could feel her cervix muscles clenching over and over again, synced with every moan that escaped her lips.

Afterward, we lay tangled in her sheets, our breathing heavy, the room with the scent of us. I turned on my side, watching her. She was staring up at the ceiling, her expression unreadable.

"Jean," I said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. She tuned to look at me, her eyes bright and full of joy that I hadn't seen in a while.

"Logan," she whispered, her voice raw. "I...don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," I murmured. "Just don't leave, beautiful."

She nodded, "I'm not going anywhere," she said softly with a big smile that showed her teeth. Beautiful, pearly white teeth.

I leaned in, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. She sighed, a soft, contented sound that made my chest tighten.

We didn't talk much after that. Just laid there, wrapped in each other, the rest of the world fading away.