Title: The Unintentional Donor

Author: Karen

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Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to these characters the movies would be shag-a-thons, but sadly I don't.

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Logan hitches a ride from someone with a secret agenda.

Prologue

Marie D'Ancanto had arrived on Charles Xavier's doorstep a bedraggled runaway in search of a safe haven. The potential that had been hidden underneath the grime of life on the road soon blossomed into a stunning young woman. Despite the constraints of her mutation, she attracted a fair share of interested suitors, including Bobby, John, Remy, and Piotr. But, while others her age were exploring their sexuality, Marie was attempting to suppress hers. Most of her pursuers eventually moved on to other less challenging mates. Even Remy, who'd been the most ardent, finally abandoned his efforts to convince Marie he could find a way around her mutation and settled into the role of big brother.

When she turned eighteen Charles proposed what he believed was a mutually beneficial arrangement ~ marriage. Due to her mutation, she was unable to have a normal marriage in the truest sense of the word, and neither could Charles thanks to his paralysis. As a married woman, Marie would be protected from the unwanted advances of other men and in return Charles would have a companion. She adored Charles, even loved him really – although not in a passionate way. When he assured her that they would be married in 'name only' and nothing 'wifely' would be expected of her, Marie accepted. They were married in a simple ceremony in Ororo's rose garden and honeymooned in Tahiti.

A year after they wed, Charles broached the subject of children. He told Marie that he'd like to have an heir, not only to one day inherit his vast fortune, but also to continue his family's lineage. Watching other couples around them start families had Marie yearning for a child of her own, so his suggestion was not met with the rejection he'd feared. However, she was concerned about passing on her mutation – until Hank informed them that his research indicated the mutant gene was conveyed via males. Several attempts were made to artificially inseminate Marie, with each one failing. As the months wore on she channeled her frustration into something a bit more positive – control of her mutation.

Six months into the endeavor two significant things happened. First, Marie finally mastered the ability to turn off her mutation on command. Second, during a routine check, Charles' sperm-count test came back considerably under the acceptable fertility level. It was unlikely he'd ever father any children. Marie was devastated. With her skin no longer a deterrent to having a 'normal' life, she still couldn't bring herself to callously abandon the man who'd been so good to her. A baby would've relieved some of the strain of being ensnared in an unconventional relationship, and apparently now that wasn't going to happen. Even playing surrogate mother to the school's children was not quite the same as having one that was a part of her.

Hank suggested that Marie use a sperm donor, but having once queried Charles about the possibility of adopting, she knew he wanted a biological child. Marie asked Hank not to reveal the test results to Charles and simply forge ahead with the existing program. After all, she told him, from what she'd learned in biology class, it only took one sperm. Maybe she and Charles would get their miracle, yet.

After vanquishing most of his opponents in the cage, letting them get in just enough hard hits to allay any suspicions about his advantage, Logan collected his winnings and headed out of the bar. He was surprised to find his truck had been the victim of a 'stripping' – everything of value, which wasn't a whole lot, had been swiped – including the rusty old motorcycle in the attached trailer. The hood had been left up and a quick check revealed an empty space where the battery was supposed to be. Logan hadn't bothered locking the truck, figuring no one was desperate enough to steal any of his thrift store belongings. Checking in the cab, he found the eight-track tape deck hadn't been pried from the dashboard. Apparently even thieves had their standards. They had taken the bag of beef jerky and his last Cuban cigar from the glove compartment though. Bastards.

Instinctively he sniffed the air, not that he was expecting to identify anyone specifically. He caught the scent of two distinct intruders – one who favored a spicy cologne and the other whose natural scent suggested he could benefit from a similar application. As the camper always had a ransacked look, it took him a few moments to realize that the only clothes left was the heap of dirty laundry in the far corner. He gathered the small pile, and because his one decent duffel bag was also gone, he shoved the clothes into a plastic grocery bag. Exiting the camper he purposely locked it – if by chance the thieves returned because they'd decided they wanted the eight-track tape player after all, they'd have to work for it. With a resigned sigh, he zipped up his leather jacket, hefted the makeshift suitcase over his shoulder and started in the direction of the main highway in search of a motel.

A gust of cold wind hit Logan's face and despite the leather jacket, the denim one beneath it, and two more layers, consisting of a plaid shirt and a white t-shirt, he still shivered against the biting chill of the October night. For a moment he regretted not going home with the cheap-looking blonde in the push-up bra who'd been hitting on him all evening. A quick obligatory fuck and he could've been tucked all nice and cozy in a warm bed right now. Then remembering the way her designer knock-off perfume had overwhelmed his senses and the fact that she was probably nearer to fifty than the thirty she was aiming for, he knew he'd made the right decision. He continued heading north against an increasingly stronger headwind, kicking the occasional rock onto the asphalt of the road – the lights of the motels ahead twinkling teasingly. He estimated that he was still about two miles away from a much-needed hot shower. Ducking his head against the wind, he started to pick up the pace when the heavens opened up and proceeded to drench him.

A few soggy minutes later a black Jaguar pulled to the side of the road just ahead of him. The passenger-side window was lowered as he approached the car. Peering in he saw a beautiful young woman who shouldn't have been unaccompanied at night, let alone giving rides to potentially dangerous strangers.

"Get in, I won't bite," she said.

He opened the door and dropped his wet backside onto the expensive caramel-colored leather seat. The car's heater was set on low – just enough to warm the interior without making it stiflingly hot. Logan was grateful as the welcoming heat enveloped him and began dissipating the chill.

"Aren't you afraid I might?" he asked with a grin and a lift of one eyebrow.

"I can take care of myself," she replied confidently.

Logan's eyes slid over her petite frame and somehow he didn't believe her declaration.

"I'm Logan," he informed her.

"Marie."

Chapter One – The Plan: Part A

In the less than two-mile drive to the row of motels, the storm had picked up ferocity – visibility was virtually non-existent – making driving any further out of the question. Logan's Good Samaritan was going to have to wait out the storm at the motel. They made a mad dash into the small office, the wind sweeping in a pile of leaves along with them. The young clerk behind the counter was engrossed in what appeared to be 'adult entertainment' and Marie had to clear her throat rather loudly to get his attention. He turned an acne-covered face toward the noise, annoyed at having his show interrupted, and glared at her.

"You wanna room?" the boy idiotically asked.

"Nah, we thought we'd go at it right here in the lobby and give you a real show," Logan replied.

At that comment, the clerk looked Marie up and down and smiled lecherously. Logan had to restrain himself from leaping over the counter and gutting the little pervert.

"You wanna put your eyes back in your head and quit looking at my wife like that," he said, his voice edged with menace.

At the mention of 'wife', Marie turned to Logan and gave him a quizzical look. He just gave her a playful wink, which made her blush and smile coyly.

The curvy brunette was the best looking thing that had wandered in here in months, but it wasn't worth getting pounded by a jealous husband. The suddenly repentant clerk tossed a key at Logan and said, "Look, mister, I don't want any trouble, okay?"

Logan snatched the key in mid-air and slammed a couple of twenties down onto the counter.

"This about cover it?"

The room was $39.95 plus tax, but the clerk wasn't about to ask Logan for another few bucks, so he just nodded affirmatively. He hoped this dangerous-looking guy was in too much of a hurry to get the brunette in the sack to bother causing any trouble.

With a final glare at the hapless kid, Logan turned toward the door.

"Coming, darlin'?"

Marie wordlessly followed Logan back outside. As they walked to their assigned room he said, "Sorry about that, but I didn't like the way he was leering at you."

"I always thought knights wore shining armor, not beat-up leather," she said with a grin.

"I ain't no knight," he informed her, "or a Boy Scout."

"I'm not looking for a Boy Scout," she replied in a trying-to-be-bold tone.

Even though a myriad of aromas had been stirred up by the storm, Logan could smell the nervousness coming off of her in waves.

"So what do you want?" he asked, stopping in front of room #5.

"I want," Marie began, her anxiety had kicked up a couple of notches, but she forged ahead – blurting out, "I want you to fuck me." Even in the dim light from the bare bulb above their heads, Logan could see that she was flushed pink with embarrassment.

"You only gave me a two-mile ride and I paid for the room," he said in amusement.

Marie's pretty little mouth formed an astonished 'O' and he couldn't resist the urge to put his tongue into it. He gathered her to him and lowered his mouth to hers. She put up no resistance and in fact he felt her knees give out as the kiss deepened. By the time he released her she was literally dizzy.

"You grow up in a convent or somethin'?" he asked.

"Huh?" Was all Marie could answer – thoroughly confused.

"You want me to fuck you, when apparently you've never even been kissed … properly."

"Oh, that," she sighed. Life as Charles' wife was tantamount to living in a nunnery – he'd only chastely kissed her on the cheek, never attempting anything more carnal.

"Yeah, that. You been cloistered away somewhere?"

"In a way," she replied sadly.

"Listen, princess, I don't screw little girls aiming to get their cherries popped just to piss-off their uptight, pompous socialite daddies," Logan informed her.

"I'm not a little girl," Marie huffed in indignation, "and my father is dead." Technically that wasn't true. The man was still very much alive, so was her mother, but for all intents and purposes the parents who'd kicked her out when her mutation had manifested were dead to her. Nearly four years later she was still bitter and unforgiving. Neither of them had better ever darken her doorstep or she'd give them a firsthand demonstration of her devil-inflicted curse.

"Whatever you say, princess," Logan said as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Don't call me that," Marie said as she swept past him into the room.

Logan flipped on the wall switch and the room was bathed in a pale yellow-tinted light.

"Yuck," Marie declared at the sight of the no-frills room.

"Let me guess, you've never stayed anywhere less than five stars?" Logan asked as he lifted his boot and brought it down on a roach that had ventured out from beneath the dresser.

"Ugh. I'm gonna need to be doused in sanitizer when I get home," she said as she gingerly placed her Chanel handbag on the antiquated dresser.

"And where would that be?" he asked as he removed both of his jackets and tossed them on the room's lone chair.

"Our Lady of Perpetual Virginity Convent, of course," Marie replied saucily as she removed her black trench coat and laid it on top of Logan's discarded jackets.

Okay, so apparently she didn't wish to divulge any personal information. Logan could live with that. He figured she was one of those spoiled little rich girls that lived in a part of town he wouldn't be welcome to even drive through. Despite what he'd told her, he really didn't have a problem with letting himself be used sexually. At least she was young and not worn out – like so many of the bar hags he usually bedded, who thought the more make-up they troweled on, the better. He gave her a thorough once over and liked what he saw. Yup, there'd be no stretch marks or cellulite on this one.

Marie meanwhile was making her own assessment of Logan. She'd lucked out when she found him on the side of the road. Tall, broad-shouldered, undoubtedly muscular beneath that ugly plaid shirt and devastatingly handsome – not in the clean-cut way that Scott was, but in a rugged, untamed way. The probability that he was wild in bed made Marie shiver, both in anticipation and slight trepidation. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should return to the mansion and convince Scott to help her with the 'plan'. Then deciding that Jean would never loan him out and not wanting anyone close to Charles to know what she intended to do, she focused on the man standing before her. The one currently sweeping heated hazel eyes over her body. The one with the prominent bulge in his jeans.

"Would you like a picture?"

"Only if you told me it was one from your Playboy pictorial," Logan said naughtily as he moved closer to her.

"You'd rather have a photo than the real thing?" Marie asked teasingly.

"Well, if I'm being given a choice…" he said as he reached for the top button of Marie's pale-pink cashmere sweater.

Another shiver ran through her as he undid the rest of the buttons and slid the sweater off her shoulders. Next he popped open the button of her designer jeans and pulled down the zipper. But instead of removing the jeans as she had expected, he put his hand down the front of them and fingered the top edge of her lace panties.

"Tell me again what it was you wanted," he whispered in her ear as he slipped his fingers underneath the delicate fabric and brushed them over the soft hair.

"I want you to make love to me," she replied, her voice breathy – hoping he'd notice the change in her choice of words.

"All night long, baby," he promised as his fingers found her clit and Marie experienced her first orgasm that wasn't self-induced.

Marie was still vibrating as Logan kneeled down, removed her sneakers and socks, then pulled down her jeans and helped her step out of them, leaving her in just a pink lacy bra and matching panties. She'd never shown so much skin in front of anyone since her mutation had manifested – having mastered control after sunbathing season had already passed. Standing back up, Logan made no effort to conceal his appraisal – raking his eyes over her from platinum-streaked top to polished toenails bottom. Under his appreciative gaze Marie felt somewhere between woefully embarrassed and immensely flattered.

Deciding to even things up a bit, she said, "That is one ugly shirt. I think you should take it off."

Logan removed the offensive plaid shirt and tossed it on the chair.

"Better?" he asked, spreading his arms apart and fighting the urge to smirk at Marie's disappointment in discovering he still had another layer on.

There was a momentary silence as she contemplated what to say next. Logan saved her the trouble.

"If you want me to get naked, just say so," he told her.

"So," she almost whispered, her throat suddenly cotton-dry.

Logan let out a throaty bark of a laugh as he peeled the white cotton t-shirt off and tossed it at her. Too busy staring at the exquisite physique before her, she failed to catch the shirt and it fluttered to the floor. Next he removed his boots and socks then winked mischievously as he undid his jeans. Marie swallowed hard as the lowering zipper revealed a tangle of dark hair. And then the faded denim was in a pile around his ankles and she forgot to breathe.

Logan stepped out of the denim pile and closed the gap between them. Then taking note of her reaction to his engorged dick he huskily informed her, "Don't worry, darlin', I'm gonna make you wet."

Marie felt her panties dampen. Mission accomplished.

Logan went to reach around Marie's back, effectively to remove her bra, and found the band was uninterrupted by a clasp.

"It fastens in the front," she offered helpfully.

"You do it. And gimme a little show," he said, his eyes so intensely hot that she thought they'd burn right through her.

He wanted her to do a striptease? Marie just stood there, chewing on her bottom lip, at a complete loss.

Logan immediately clued in that she had no idea what to do, so he reached for the clasp and unsnapped it himself. Her breasts spilled out and he palmed them.

"Perfect," he said as he stroked his thumbs over her nipples.

Marie shrugged out of the bra and let it drop to the floor.

"Panties next, darlin'."

She swallowed hard, hooked her thumbs into the band of her panties and began to wiggle out of them.

"You smell so damn good and I bet you taste even better," Logan said as he dropped to his knees, skimming his mouth down her body in the process and pulling her panties the rest of the way down.

Marie was trembling as she stepped out of the scrap of material. Logan nudged her legs apart then leaned forward and licked her. She put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he continued pleasuring her with his tongue.

"Oh God," she moaned out in a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment as the orgasm washed over her.

Logan lifted her up and carried her over to the bed where he deposited her down gently. He spread her legs open and was on top of her instantly, pressing his erection at her entrance. Overcome with need by now and not wanting to give her an opportunity to change her mind and go running home, he slid in just enough to take it beyond the point of no return. He needn't have worried because she was keening beneath him and making very encouraging little noises. He eased in a little further and was rewarded with another breathy moan and a slight lift of her hips. With a low growl he pushed in the rest of the way.

"Oh, Logan," Marie whimpered.

He'd never heard his name said quite like that before and he almost came right then and there.

"Marie," he moaned right back as he sank his hands into her thick, silky hair and buried his face in the curve between her shoulder and her neck.

He peppered her soft skin with tender kisses before dusting a trail up to her mouth and claiming it hungrily. He'd never enjoyed kissing because, while he indulged in cigars and drank rotgut himself, he didn't enjoy tasting cigarettes and cheap alcohol on his bed partners. Marie tasted sweet and fresh, Logan doubted that she'd ever had anything foul in her delicate mouth. Overcome by an inexplicable urge to possess her, he kissed her with a fierce intensity. She responded to him as if she were a natural, although he suspected otherwise. Marie's hands were everywhere – inquisitively touching as much of him as she could comfortably reach and he shuddered under her exploratory caresses. She'd gone from sheltered innocent to wanton vixen in record-breaking time; he couldn't help but feel proud of that. He also wondered if he could convince her to abandon her no doubt privileged life for a gypsy-like existence on the road because he could easily imagine himself spending every night – and some mornings too – engaged in this activity with her.

They writhed together until they reached a completion that was mutually satisfying and then made love again…and then twice more. Finally, they fell asleep just before dawn wrapped in each other's arms.

Logan awoke and glanced at his watch – it was almost noon. He rolled over to check on his lover and discovered an empty space where a small warm body should've been. Well, technically not completely empty – there was a piece of paper lying there. He picked up the scrap of paper, knowing before he even read the first line that it was a 'Dear John' letter.

Logan,

What can I say?

"Well, 'good bye' would've been a good idea," Logan thought irritably as he continued to read.

Last night was amazing.

"Of course it was, princess."

And I thank you.

"If you'd stuck around I could've told you 'you're welcome' Logan-style."

Please don't try to find me. Trust me, it's better this way.

Logan crumbled the note into a wad and tossed it at the trashcan. That's when he noticed the pile of hundred dollar bills on the nightstand on what had been her side of the bed. He reached over and picked up the money – six hundred. Angrily he wondered if she'd compensated him for each orgasm he'd helped her attain or that had merely been a coincidence. Not that it really mattered, because regardless it still meant that she'd paid him for sex. Logan had only ever sold his body in the cage, which had never made him feel anywhere near as cheap as he did right now. He was sorely tempted to leave the money behind on the rapidly cooling sheets for the housekeeper to benefit from, but reason overcame pride so he retrieved his wallet from his nightstand and shoved the money into it because, after all, he'd earned it.