Exercise Ch. 04

Author's Note: My husband helped me write the Emma material. Hope you enjoy!

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Logan had been out patrolling the grounds when the call came from the Professor. Logan?

Was when I woke up this mornin'.

Jean and Scott are indisposed. Please inform the others that this morning's briefing is postponed until noon.

Huh. He headed toward the mansion. They sick?

Just indisposed. He sensed some embarrassment down the link before Chuck withdrew from his head. He thought about it as he entered the men's dormitory wing, then laughed as he breathed in outside of Scott's door. So Jeannie got tired of waiting, hm? Not surprising. He moved on and started knocking on the others' doors.

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So far, so good. The passage leading to her room was empty. She sneaked down the hall as fast as she could, when a cough behind her broke the silence. "That your normal mornin' attire, darlin'?"

Logan. Wonderful. Just what she needed. Remy was so gonna pay for what he did ...

She turned to face him, head proudly erect. "No. Remy stole my clothes." His eyes were everywhere, deliberately taking her in, and she felt a thrill of desire. Damn it.

He inhaled deeply, then shrugged. "Well. Guess what they say about Reed Richards is wrong." He turned away and raised his hand to knock on Jubilee's door.

"Wait. What? What about Reed Richards?" Her curiosity overcame her desire to escape, and she turned back.

He smiled at the door. "Well, ya see, some people think he invented the material for our uniforms so it'd enhance tits. Guess it isn't true in all cases, though." He casually yawned. "By the way, morning briefing's cancelled. Scott 'n' Jean aren't feelin' well." He raised his hand to knock again.

Rogue finally remembered she was naked, it was cold, Logan was male, and even though she felt a rush of relief at not having to face Scott right away, she would have to put on some clothes to get breakfast. She ran away and heard the first knock as Logan finally tried to raise Jubilee.

She frowned, unlocking her own door and rushing inside. That second knock was followed by a crash and a scream. "Wolvie!"

She shut and locked her door, leaning against it, and looked around.

Her room had been transformed. She gaped as she saw every available surface, including the rug on the floor, covered with images of Remy.

Mostly naked images of Remy.

Oh, sure, there were a few pictures in outfits she'd been stupid enough to let him know she liked, she saw, as she recovered a little from her initial shock. The heartbeat of "Black Velvet" came through to her ears now, the smoky voice of Alannah Myles singing a song she'd always privately thought was perfect for Remy, and she blushed. There were pictures of him stroking his cock, in briefs, on a motorcycle? God, that musta hurt. The piéce de resistance, though, was the life-size poster on her bed. He had tried for a typical Elvis pose, but unlike the King, his devilish eyes held nothing but invitations. He wore only a small black velvet jacket. He was erect, his arms at his sides, and she inhaled sharply. If he hadn't enhanced anything, he was quite a nice size. She held back the urge to measure him, though.

They had said bedrooms were off-limits. She had won! She quickly pulled open a dresser drawer, encountering a close-up picture of Remy's penis spurting white, and tossed it aside in favor of some pants and a T-shirt.

She frowned. Should there be a breeze?

Her window was open. She paused, tempted to put a hand on the poster's shoulder, but looked out and breathed in the good air. She saw Storm was up, walking toward the kitchen door below, and waved to her. "Mornin', Storm!"

Storm looked up. "Good morning, Rogue. Good morning, Remy." She continued on to the kitchen.

Rogue was frozen in place. Good morning, Remy?

She looked to her left. The man himself was desperately clutching the side of the mansion, holding on by putting pressure on the water pipe. He managed a small grin for her. "Mornin' chere."

She folded her arms. "Bedrooms are off-limits. Remember?"

He pouted, but dropped the look as he gasped and clung to the old bricks. "But chere, Remy thought that mean no bein' in your room when you in there."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Non, chere. Really." He threw her a pleading glance. Damn her, but she decided to let it slide, especially since his present was so very tempting.

"All right. The bet's still on, but you're also still in trouble." She pulled back through the window and began closing it.

"Chere? Maybe you let Remy in?" She heard a scuffle against the bricks and a quickly cursed, "Merde!" from him.

She smiled and spoke sweetly. "But sugar, you can't be in my room. I'm in it."

She closed the window on his pleas.

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He sighed. Maybe Stormy'd left her windows open again. He struggled his way up the side of the mansion.

Remy was about to make the hard climb up to Storm's window when he saw an open ledge just two windows over. He paused, then stretched carefully, making his way over to it. Any port in a storm.

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She had gotten up early and dressed for breakfast, but it wasn't food she really wanted. She was desperately horny. She wore her tightest leather mini and her most revealing bustier, pausing to adjust her makeup in the mirror. She wanted to look her best. Suddenly, she saw something flash into view in her window.

She turned and walked over to it. A friendly face met hers. "Hello, Emma."

She considered him for a moment. He was not what she was looking for in a main course, but he could be a tasty hors d'oeuvre. She gave an intimidating smile. "You're rather large for a squirrel."

He gasped and clenched his fingers on the window frame, then tried another grin. "Remy large for a lot of things."

"Is that so." She paused, then asked, "Well, are you coming in, or not?"

He looked at her, mere inches from the window, then dropped into her room with an oof of exertion. "Thanks."

She stayed close to him, swaying closer. Her tongue gently traced her upper lip. She arched her left leg and put her foot up on her bed frame. "You can do better than that, can't you, Remy?"

He looked startled, though she could see he was aroused as well. "Emma? What are you ... what are you askin' for?"

"Maybe a lot of things, thief of hearts." He flinched as she used the phrase. She kept her amusement to herself. So he remembered a little, did he?

"You can't have more than Remy's gratitude." He held out his hand hastily, attempting to offer her a handshake, and nearly brushed her right breast.

"Why?" She stayed where she was, burning, ignoring his hand, which was now positioned to keep the barely clothed blonde away from him.

"'Cause...you know...Remy not...you not..."

"For a man who claims to know all the ways to a woman's bed, you seem extraordinarily clumsy, Mr. LeBeau." She slid her foot off the bed frame and took a step forward, feeling his body heat but not actually touching him.

"Emma! Please! Back off!" He looked panicky, though his pants told a different story.

She pretended to think about it for a minute, then took a step back. "I was invading your privacy, wasn't I, Remy?"

"Oui. That it." The man's relief was palpable.

"And you would never dream of invading someone else's privacy like that." She traced her fingers down the edge of her bustier, outlining her full breasts to him, enjoying the tingling as her hand moved over her skin.

"Course not." Remy watched her warily.

She turned her back and walked a few steps, then rounded on him, all playfulness gone. "Remy, I know you have private sexual fantasies about me." He gulped as she continued. "Probably every man here does. Maybe even some of the women. I don't really care, as you can probably guess. What I do care about, though, is being forced to share those sexual fantasies against my will."

Remy looked confused, then horrified, as Emma continued her slow advance. "I had to share every minute of that horrid dream of yours this morning. You invaded my head with your damned filth. That I will not tolerate. Do you understand?"

He feebly protested, "Emma, Remy didn't...didn't want you...how Remy control that?"

She took one more step and he broke, leaping over her bed and running out the door in a frenzy.

She smiled. That hadn't gone too badly. She still had another need to satisfy, though, born of that lusty dream. Remy wasn't the one she wanted for that, oh, no. She stroked her skin again and turned to more pleasant thoughts of how to seduce the man she wanted.

She carefully closed her door, then headed down the hall toward the men's dormitory, pausing for a second by Jubilee's door, which had a large hole in the center of it, slicked with blood. She considered it a moment, then left it alone. If anything significant had happened, it was taken care of. Jubilee was not in her room.

She sauntered on and rounded the corner, entering the hallway of the men's wing. Jamie Madrox was walking down the hall toward her. She smiled wickedly and kept walking. He absentmindedly approached and only looked up when he was a few steps from her, nearly falling over at the sight. She stopped. "Why, hello, Jamie," she purred in delight. "You look ... startled."

He gulped, and suddenly there were two of him. She pushed the two Jamies apart to each wall, one in each hand, and said, "Nice offer, boys, but not today." Jamie gaped as she swayed down the hall, and the duplicate leered as he stared after her sexy form. Then Jamie happened to catch the expression on his duplicate's face and hastened to reabsorb him, muttering, "Didn't think any side of me was that crazy."

She smirked as she heard Jamie mutter something behind her and kept going. Jean-Paul Beaubier exited his room and turned as she approached. He met her eyes and instantly recognized a predator on the hunt. He also knew that he was not her prey, but based on what she was wearing, he knew that probably only he would be able to resist her. He bowed slightly to her, spreading his hands out to his sides, and she gave him a knowing smile as she passed by. He walked down to the end of the hall, but curiosity got the better of him in the end, so he turned to see whose door she stopped at.

She paused at the door she wanted and swept her mind through the room. Her quarry was there. She released a satisfied sigh and swore she would get more satisfaction soon. She knocked on the door, hard and fast. Her previous three encounters had whetted her appetite, and she had to admit that even teasing LeBeau and Madrox had made her more keenly aware of her lust, even if they were rather ordinary.

Now, what was taking him so damnably long to answer?

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Kurt Wagner had retreated to his room early from his swim. He had not intended to, but when Storm and Sage had entered the pool area and started talking about Rogue and Gambit and their bet in very scanty swimsuits, he had found it necessary to teleport back to his room speedily or be embarrassed.

So when the knock came at his door, he stayed on his knees, praying, unaware of the person at his door who wanted him on his knees for a different purpose. He breathed an "Amen" before rising to answer the door, still wearing his swim trunks and a fresh, mostly dry T-shirt, beads of water glistening in his hair, and a few stray glints in his fur.

When he opened it, he wished he was back in the pool. Emma Frost was standing there, eyeing him very hungrily, wearing her usual tiny white outfit. No, wait a minute. If he had to guess, he'd say it was the tiniest white outfit she had. He didn't notice when his mouth fell open, but Emma did.

"May I come in?" she asked, pushing him back gently and entering the room. He could swear he heard a very soft chuckle somewhere in the hallway as she walked over and sat down on his bed. Thank God, his trunks were baggy. He was not certain how long they would conceal him, though.

"Close the door, Kurt. We don't want any drafts getting in. You look like you might catch a chill." Her eyes gleamed as they scanned his body.

His tail lashed out to close the door. He was amazed. He and Emma had agreed on something. Her blue eyes darted to his tail and her tongue crept out as the tail swept back behind his legs.

Suddenly, he wondered if he really did agree with her, or should have.

"You seem nervous, Herr Wagner. I don't make you nervous, do I?" Her smoky, sultry voice made him quiver.

"I think I would be a fool, Frau Frost, if I were not nervous," he replied hastily.

"But I have nothing to hide from you." She spread her arms wide, raising her breasts, and he broke into speech again.

"So, Frau Frost, what brings you calling?" As if he didn't know. Or guess. Or suspect.

She stood up and advanced on him as he retreated, until he met the corner of his room behind the door. She trailed a finger across his chest. "You are aware of the wager?"

"Everyone knows about that." He watched her finger, fascinated, as she lightly traced it up to his throat.

"It has been very ... hard on most of us. Would you not agree, Herr Wagner?" she intoned, looking down toward his swim trunks. He swallowed hard, reaching over to his dresser nearby and plucking a rosary from it with his tail, praying that his trunks were still hiding how hard things were. He did not even realize that his tail had done it. It was more of a natural reaction for him.

She stroked the rosary out of his grasp. "Oh, Kurt, you don't need this for me. Do you?" She carefully draped it around the doorknob, not taking her eyes from him for a moment.

His eyes widened at the feel of her warm hand on his tail and it lashed hard for a few seconds. Then he felt heat rising into his face as he realized he might have offended her. "I ... Emma, I am so sorry. I did not mean to offend you."

She leaned in to him, her face mere centimeters from his, and whispered, "Do I look offended?"

He teleported across the room, ending up with the bed between them, and she sniffed, then coughed in reaction to the smell. She turned her head from side to side, casting about for him, and he spoke up. "I do not think I should say what you look like."

"Why not?" She stalked toward him again and slunk onto the bed toward him. "Maybe I'd like it."

"Listen. Emma. Frau Frost. What are you here for?" Her erotic smile widened as he spoke her first name.

"Why, Kurt. I am here for you. Isn't that obvious?" She laid back on the bed, stretching, exposing most of her body. "I know I'm not the only one here who needs release from this ... distracting game Rogue and Remy are playing."

Gott. His trunks could not be hiding his condition by now. He spoke hurriedly before she could come after him again. "I am sure there are many who would be willing to provide you release?"

"But I do not want them. I ... want you. And you don't seem entirely against the idea." Her burning gaze trailed down from his face to his straining trunks, and he groaned.

He wondered, briefly, if she was using her powers on him. "Have a seat at least, Kurt." She patted the bed next to her, her legs still parted. "Be friendly."

"We both know you do not just want to be friendly." Nevertheless, he found himself accepting her offer, sitting cautiously on the bed. As he turned to her, she leaned over and leisurely began nibbling and kissing his neck, teasing a sensitive point, and he gasped. "Ah ... uh ... Em ... Frau Frost."

"Emma, Kurt. Emma," she murmured against his neck.

"If you continue to do this, I think you ... I worry you will remove all my resistance by doing this!"

"Would that be so bad?" She continued tasting his neck and he hurriedly responded.

"Yes. Please. I need a moment to think about this."

She removed her mouth from his sensitive neck and sat next to him, frowning. She did not want to force Kurt into doing anything. She wanted him to choose. For that very reason, she decided against using her mental powers on him. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't continue to tempt him.

As he sat there, eyes closed tight, breathing uneven, tense, she whispered, "You cannot deny this has become a problem for you."

"Nein, I can't." At that moment, she felt something sliding around her right leg. She looked down and saw that his tail had started making its way up her thigh. She relaxed and remained in the same position, legs parted, as his tail advanced toward her aching clit. As she watched, rapt, it pressed against her, the tip disappearing beneath her brief skirt. She moaned and raspily said, "It seems your body ... has already chosen, Kurt."

Kurt's eyes shot open and he looked down in horror at his wayward tail. She held up a hand and breathed, "I know. It has a mind of its own."

He met her eyes, and she noticed that his tail did not depart, though it had frozen in place. "Why me?"

She pondered several different answers and discarded them impatiently. Kurt could not be had with lies. She answered, honestly, "You are ... beautiful. Unique. I find you very attractive."

"Me? Beautiful. Attractive. I have come to terms with who I am and what I am. I am even proud of it. But there are not many people who find me beautiful or attractive. There are many men here who are more commonly thought of as that, but not me." He saw her shudder and realized that his tail had begun to tease her again. He quickly reeled it in. Verdammt thing.

"You do not realize who you are talking to." Her hands tensed and her eyes followed his tail, not quite pleading. Wistful.

"Nein? Explain."

She sighed as he took a firm grip on his tail and looked up at his eyes again. "Kurt, I have had enough of the plastic pretty boys like Warren Worthington or Scott Summers or Bobby Drake, or even Remy, for goodness' sake. I grew up with them all around me, saw them every day in the business world and in the Hellfire Club." She saw him wince at the mention of the Hellfire Club and she quickly moved on. It would not do to remind him of that. "And they all bored me to tears. I knew what they would say, what they would do in almost any situation. Even the ones who think of themselves as rogues, like LeBeau, are still ... well, you put it best. Common.

"But you, Kurt Wagner, are anything but common. You are unique." She hoped she didn't sound too sappy, since for once, she was actually telling him the truth. It was difficult to read those eyes of his. Even so, she was surprised when he leaned into her this time and kissed her. She savored the kiss until he withdrew, still holding her eyes with his.

"D ... danke schoen. I did not expect ... nobody ... danke. I really believe you."

"I meant every word." She bent and captured his lips with hers. His mouth opened under hers and his tongue flicked at her, teasing her. She felt his fangs prickling her lips as she pressed inward. She felt a damp warm pressure between her legs again and looked down to see that his tail had once again nestled between her thighs. "Are you doing it, this time?"

The tip teased her, stroking back and forth sensuously as he gave her a wide grin. "What do you think?"

"Mmm." She reached for him as he pushed her onto his bed, and she fell on her back, tail still exciting her. "I don't much care, Kurt, as long as you don't stop."

"I have no intention of stopping." He swept her body with his golden eyes, then pulled his shirt and trunks off. She watched him intently, enjoying the way he moved. He gestured to her. "Your turn."

She rose to her knees, swaying slightly, and slowly released her breasts. His breath came louder and faster. She tossed her head, making her hair brush against her shoulders as she reached down and drew the miniskirt up her body. Her breasts rose, enticing him, and he growled as she tossed the skirt to the floor. His lips closed over her nipple. His mouth was warm. She held his head to her breast, closing her eyes to concentrate on the wonderful burning sensation, the gentle tugging contrasting with the sharp points of his teeth pricking her skin.