Pleasure and Satisfaction

They spiced up that genetic cocktail called "me" with a dash of feline DNA...so I can jump 15 feet of razor wire and take out a 250-pound linebacker with my thumb and index finger...which makes me an awesome killing machine and a hoot at parties. But it also means that three times a year I'm climbing the walls...looking for some action. Thank God, the worst of it is over...if I can just get through the next 12 hours without doing something I'm going to regret.

"Work for it. Seven...eight...good contraction, even though you can't feel it. Visualize that muscle working. Come on. One more...and...ten. Stick a fork in you. You're done," Bling said, setting Logan's leg gently down on the therapy table.

"I've got one more set in me. Come on," Logan pleaded, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"Save it for tomorrow."

"Come on, Bling...one more set."

"You can't do this all at once. You've got to pace yourself, man. Otherwise, you'll burn out," Bling explained.

"I don't think so."

"Patience in all things, my friend. Anyway, you got company," Bling responded, turning to point to Max standing in the doorway.

"Hey, kids. Am I interrupting?" she asked as she walked into the room.

"No. You're just in time. Bling was about to entertain me with one of my favorite chestnuts, 'the tortoise and the hare'."

"Maybe he'll listen to you," Bling shot back, smiling at Max.

"Yeah, right," Max answered. Logan so rarely listened to her, she knew better than to even try.

"Good night, people. Drink some water," Bling advised as he headed for the door.

"Sure thing, mom," Logan called after him.

"He's right, you know? You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Max said, moving over to stand next to the table where Logan sat. She wasn't sure if it was her hormones or what, but there was something about Logan sitting on that table, covered from sweat from the exertion of therapy. It was doing something to her. Something powerful.

"Ah, don't you start," he responded, reaching for his chair to transfer off the table.

"Don't do that just yet," she replied, putting her hand up to stop him.

"Do what?"

"Get in the chair," she answered, smiling at him.

"Why?" he asked. "I thought it was easier for you with me in the chair."

Where had that come from, she wondered. She had assumed that he had some hang-ups with his new status, but so often all she saw was the powerful Eyes Only, defender of the oppressed and downtrodden.

"What?" Max asked as she slid her knee up on the table alongside Logan's right leg. "I wouldn't mind it in the chair, but I don't know why we should waste this wonderful flat surface that you're already on..." She pressed him back against the table until he was lying on his back, her legs on either side of his.

"Max....what the hell are you doing?"

She answered him by pressing her body down on his, her lips smashing against his. He closed his mouth to her, but as she continued to prod his soft, tender skin with her tongue, he finally relented and opened so she could slip within.

Her hands ranged over his body, appreciating the new ripple of muscles across his chest and down his arms. The work he'd been doing with Bling had made him strong and well-defined.

She continued to kiss him, probing and exploring as deep as he would let her. Meanwhile, her fingers moved over his body, sliding underneath his shirt so she would touch every inch of him.

"Max...I..."

She slipped back off him, sitting lightly on his legs.

"What?" she asked. She didn't want to do anything he didn't want to, but it was going to kill her if she couldn't finish with him.

"I don't think...I mean...I haven't...and...I don't..."

She pressed her hand lightly against his lips to silence him.

"It doesn't matter, Logan. Don't worry," she reassured him.

The fact was, Logan had been and continued to be a huge turn-on for her. From the moment she had landed in his living room, it had taken every ounce of her being to not grab him and take him. Only now, with her defenses weakened, had she acted, but she was glad. She wanted to make her mark...

She slid off the therapy table and held out her hand. "Show me your bedroom, Logan."

It had been a long time since he had brought a woman into his bedroom. After he had been shot, he thought it would be a lot longer...if ever.

He transferred from the chair onto his bed, not as gracefully as he would have liked, but he did it. Everything was getting easier...every day. It was just so much harder around Max. Everything about her was graceful...and beautiful...and powerful and he didn't feel like he was any of those things any longer.

They had talked about this at his rehab. Sex. He knew that was what she wanted. Quite frankly, she had come on pretty strong.

"Okay, big guy..." Max said as she moved on to the bed, sliding him back down and interrupting his self-revelation.

"Max, please, stop for a minute," he pleaded. He wanted to be with her, but her actions were so urgent, like he would disappear if she didn't nail him that minute.

"Shit!" she called as she slipped from him and flopped on her back next to him in the bed.

"What?" he asked, grunting with the effort as he worked his way onto his side so he could look at her.

"I've fucked this all up," she said, her eyes trained directly on the ceiling above her.

"Fucked what up?" he asked, his hand now moving to her neck, his fingers trailing down to her breasts.

"This... Us. I should have never come over here, not when I was..."

His arm moved further, slipping around her side, pulling her close to him. "What's going on, Max?"

"I'm...damn it. It's fucking Manticore again."

He didn't understand, but that's what he loved about Max...she was so complicated. Nearly as complicated as he was. His hand moved down her face, wiping away the tear that had slipped from her eye.

"What about Manticore?" he asked softly.

"This, what I did...it's because of what they did to me, because of the feline DNA. Yeah, I can jump like crazy, but it also messes up my hormones. I'd kill for regular PMS."

Logan was confused. Feline DNA...hormones. Suddenly he began to laugh.

"You're in heat?"

"Funny for you," Max sniped back. She started to move to get out of the bed, but Logan grabbed her arm and drew her back.

"I'm only fucking you because I'd fuck anything I saw," she spat at him.

"And I'm pulling you back in my bed because for the first time since Anselmo pulled out that gun, I feel like a complete person. Damn it Max, I might not be able to get it up, but you leave me now and the blue balls might be the end of me."

She dropped back down on the bed and looked at him, her eyes searching his face. "What?"

"I've been dreaming of having you in my bed, Max. Dreaming of it since I met you and if you leave now...well, it's gonna be a setback that I'm not sure physical therapy will ever be able to cure me of. Come here," he said, his arms reaching for hers.

She slipped back into his arms, her body folding easily into his. "So now what?"

He wasn't sure. His body had betrayed him on so many levels since the injury and he was still discovering what exactly it would and would not do. Max's actions in the other room had been so intense, so unexpected that he was afraid that anything could happen. Their love was so new, so fragile. He didn't want to scare her away with some of the more unpleasant sides of his injury. He wanted her to understand that in almost every single way, he was just like anyone else and that she couldn't break him, but that message might not come across if he wet the bed.

"Give me five minutes and then we'll talk," he answered, as he slid from her arms, pushed himself into a seated position and reached for the chair.

Max snuggled down into Logan's bed, his soft, warm down comforter pulled tight around her bare shoulders. She could hear him in the bathroom, moving around, the toilet flushing, then the sink running. After a few minutes he returned, his breath minty fresh.

"You clean up for me, like this is our first date?" she asked.

He nodded shyly.

Somehow the few minutes away seemed to have changed the mood between both of them. The intensity of her hormone rush was over and she felt pretty embarrassed.

"Maybe I should just go..." she said, starting to move from the bed.

"No," Logan answered quickly. "I mean, please don't. I...I want you to stay."

He was so amazing. He just accepted everything about her. But if he really knew her...there was no way...

She watched his muscles ripple as once again he moved into the bed. She loved the little sound he made as he lifted himself from the seat of the wheelchair and onto the mattress. She could see the effort it took him, but also the pride he had in being able to take care of himself. He had looked so weak, so broken when she had seen him in the hospital. Now he was strong and whole...the Logan she had just begun to know.

"There are things that are different for me now, things that will seem different for you," he started, "but, for everything that is different, there a million things that are still the same."

He leaned in and began to kiss her. Unlike her urgent probing earlier, this was softer, but somehow as intense. He worked from her mouth, to her neck, along her shoulders and down her back. His hands moved over her stomach and onto her breasts, pulling and tugging. Now he returned, but this time with his lips, sucking at her breasts and teasing the nipples until they were hard and erect.

She wanted to take care of him, do something for him, but he was blowing her mind. Without ever touching her clit, she felt herself get wet, the orgasm moving quickly up to her breasts, her neck, across her whole body. She shook slightly as it moved through her, not unlike a small seizure, enveloping her body. Her back arched and she gasped.

"Good?" he asked, looking pleased that he had gotten such an intense reaction from her.

She smiled and then before he could move, she flipped him on his back and pressed him against the bed.

Now it was her turn to pleasure him.

He watched, his eyes at half mast, as Max's mouth wandered across his body. He had moved his own hands over his abdomen, discovering where there was and was not sensation, but it was so different watching her do it.

There was a spot, right around the bottom of his rib cage where it all seemed to meet. Every time she got close, he wanted to arch up and go nuts. Man, where were his ass muscles when he really needed them?

She began to move along his side, her tongue pressing against his ribs, up to his breast and onto his nipples. She teased the light hair growing down his stomach with her hand as her mouth continued to work across his chest.

A pressure began to grow and his breaths grew shorter. It felt like he was going to explode...

Suddenly a warmth swept across him and he fell back against the pillows, sated.

"Did you..."

He looked up into Max's questioning eyes and nodded. He was satisfied. More than.

FIN

Feedback gratefully received and acknowledged at rachel _wilder@hotmail.com