WARNING -- This part contains scenes of a sexual nature. If I had to rate it, I would say it is safely within the PG-13 zone. However, if these things bother you, please don't read any futher.

The Narrow Walk

By JF Jackson

Part Three

Her eyes narrowed into slits of blue fire. "I did give you a third option," she reminded him. "The option to leave."

The hair on the back of his neck rose, his senses telling him to stop, now. This girl was dangerous. However, Remy was not known for always paying attention to danger signals. His curiosity was piqued, along with other things. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, at least in the ways she implied. "An' what if I tole you t'do your worst?"

Her eyes widened and for a brief moment, he thought he saw them turn red. She walked over to him, slowly, deliberately. "You make it a point to walk on the side of danger."

He didn't know if it was a question or a statement, but he nodded. "Life is a risk, Chere. From de moment we're born. You can play it safe an' run de-"

Before he could finish, she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him to her and kissing him deeply on the lips.

His hesitation was for less than a second, and then he wrapped his arms around her, returning her kiss with equal enthusiasm. She felt cool, for someone who was being kissed. His arms tightened around her, trying to warm her. Her lips softened beneath his, parting slightly.

He ran his tongue over the front of her teeth. Her incisors were small, and as his tongue ran down over them, slipping into her mouth, one of them caught on the tip, pricking a tiny hole.

Before he could even flinch at the slight, stabbing pain, she drew his tongue into her mouth, sucking at it. A drop of blood was her reward for the effort. She caught it on her own tongue, swirling it around with his, before letting it slide down her throat.

Later, he would not be able to remember who's idea it was to take this up to the loft, nor how they got there... maybe she just flew them up there, but somehow they did get there. She pushed him down on the bed with surprising strength. Her eyes seemed to be glowing in the faint light offered from the fireplace below as she stood at the end of the bed looking down at him. "Do you want this?" she asked, her voice sounding low and gravelly, like velvet and sandpaper. "Think carefully, because I don't know if you fully understand what you are consenting to. Once we start, I will not - I cannot hold back. So, again... do you want this?"

There was a part of him that felt this was a very unusual thing for her to be asking, but something stronger overrode it. "Oui," he whispered softly. "I wan' dis."

She knelt on the end of the bed, her knees on either side of him and moved so she was on top of him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him, hard. Her tongue moved into his mouth, exploring the inside of it. He wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss, feeling her grinding her body on top of his.

For several minutes their mouths locked on each other, till finally she drew away and began kissing his face, his neck, her tongue running over his skin as if trying to taste it.

She was definitely the aggressor, and although there was a part of him that felt this wasn't quite right, he felt powerless to stop it. It was as if something powerful had taken over both of them.

She shifted over to the side, running her fingers over his chest, trying to pull his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. Noises that sounded somewhere between a growl and a moan slipped from her lips, noises of frustration. It took almost everything he had to pull away from her. "Rhiannon, dey ain't gonna melt off," he whispered.

Her eyes were glowing; although he could not tell what color they were in the dim light. "I know that," she growled. "Damn it, I hate this part."

He sat up, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it on to the floor. "Dis better, ma Chere?"

She stared at his chest. While Gambit knew he had a good body, he never had a woman stare at it like Rhiannon did, with this look of raw... hunger in her eyes. "Been awhile, Rhiannon?" he asked, unable to resist.

"Longer than you'll ever know," she snapped. Her nostrils flared and she reached over and touched his chest, her fingers cool and white tracing a line up to his neck. They lingered on the pulse line, and she shivered.

His hands moved to her shirt, untying the leather belt at her waist. He pulled it free of the shirt and let it drop to the floor.

She took her hand from his throat and drew away from him. She took the bottom of her shirt into her hands and drew it over her head quickly. Dropping it to the floor beside the bed, she tossed her hair, looking down at the bed as if suddenly overcome with shyness.

His breath drew into his lungs sharply. Even with the dim light, her skin was pale almost to the point of luminescent.

"Chere, you're beautiful," he whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes glowing again. The shyness that had overtaken her seemed to vanish. "As are you."

He reached for her, drawing her into his arms. "You colder dan you should be," he whispered into her ear.

"I know," she whispered back, her voice taking on that desperate tone it had earlier. "Warm me, Remy. Inside and out."

He wanted to do just that, warm her, make her cool body glow with the heat. He kissed her ear, nipping gently at the lobe. When she growled, and dug her nails into the flesh on his back, he took this as a sign of encouragement and continued, kissing her neck in short, hard little kisses, then running his tongue over the area he kissed.

Her hands moved up to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, as if she were fondling a special silk. It felt so good, to be touched to be held like this. If he knew what he was touching, was kissing...

While he kissed her neck, his hands were roaming over her chest, gently cupping her breasts, which caused her arms to tighten around him, the soft crosses between growls and moans to become louder. He kissed to the front of her neck, down her throat, longer; more lingering kisses as if she were some exotic desert he wanted to savor.

She leaned her head back so she was facing the ceiling; her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Remy," she growled. "I-I must..."

He drew back enough to look at her. "Must what, Rhiannon?"

Her head moved so she could look at him. "Must-" Rather than continue to answer, she wrapped her arms around him. Drawing him close to her, she began kissing his neck, drawing the skin into her mouth, sucking on it, running her tongue over it.

"What are-"

Before he could finish the sentence, he felt a sharp, stinging pain, as if someone just put a hot needle in his skin. What in de world?

Suddenly the most intense feeling of pleasure washed through him like a tidal wave and it felt as if his entire body was on fire. His eyes opened wide, and her held her tightly. He wasn't sure what she was doing to him, but he did know he never wanted this feeling to end.

It was over.

Rhiannon disentangled herself from Remy's body and slipped out of the bed. For the first time in over a month she felt the nagging hunger that had been a part of her for so many years sedated. She did not have a mirror, but she knew if she did, and she was to look into it, her cheeks would be flushed with color, her lips deep red.

She pulled the covers over Remy, covering him gently so as not to disturb him. "Sleep well, Remy LeBeau," she whispered. "You deserve to rest."

Unable to resist, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, her lips barely brushing against his skin. The corners of his mouth turned upward, in a small, innocent smile, that fascinated her. Humans look so young when they sleep, she thought. Perhaps they do become young in slumber. Perhaps my kiss sparked a memory of his mother, kissing him on the cheek, checking on him one last time before she went to bed.

She knew more about Remy LeBeau that most people ever would now. Not specific memories, but who he was, how he felt, how he saw himself and how he saw others. Not a pleasant picture either. He saw himself, not only set apart from most, but apart and below. You have nothing to be ashamed of, she thought, wishing that she could plant these words in his mind. Your spirit is true, even if all your deeds have not been. You are no worse than most, and better than some. Do not put yourself at the bottom of the pile, X-Men. The world needs you. You need you.

She put on the clothes she had worn earlier that evening and went out to the dock. She sat down, looking up at the moon, and sighed. She wouldn't be able to fall asleep until just before sunrise, she never was. I'll be in bed before he wakes up though, she told herself. He'll never know I left.

Lost in her own thoughts, she never noticed a large wolf coming towards her, until it stepped on to the dock. Her body stiffened and she turned to look her eyes shifting from blue to blood red, her blood teeth dropping in automatic defense. "No tricks!" she growled.

The wolf came closer, sniffing the air around her, studying her. There was a great intelligence in the animal's eyes as it finally sat down next to her, head tipped to one side. You got some.

The voice sounded fuzzier than normal, like a blown cone on a very cheap speaker. "I refuse to speak to you in that form," she stated, turning her head away from him. "Shift, Stealth, or I warn you, I'll give you a mental scream that will make you wish for the true death."

For a moment the air around the wolf seemed to shimmer and the shape changed, shifting and reforming until Stealth was sitting beside her. Is this better?

"No. And it won't be until you get some clothes on," she answered, still refusing to look at him.

It is hard to carry clothing in wolf form, He reminded her. Besides, I am not ashamed of the body the Mother gave me to hold my spirit.

"I'm not asking you to be ashamed," she retorted. "I'm just saying I don't want to see your penis. I'm afraid I'll die laughing, or go blind trying to see something that tiny. Please, go put some pants on."

He shrugged, rising to his feet gracefully and walked off the dock, into the woods. He returned a few minutes later, wearing a pair of suede pants. Better?

She allowed herself to look. "Much."

He sat down next to her again. He came.

She snorted. "Several times, actually."

His shoulders shook slightly and he grinned, and although no sound came from his mouth, she knew he was chuckling. So much for promises, Darkstar.

"Tell me about it." She sighed, lighting up a cigarette. "I never should have told him to come over. I should have known it would lead to this. Damn the hunger.

Did you hurt him?

"No!"

Did you take too much?

"No! I mean, I might have taken a bit more than I absolutely had to, but you know damned well it would be almost impossible to take enough from him in one time too seriously hurt him. I'd end up vomiting first.!"

Did you bring him pleasure?

"You know I did. I don't take without giving. It's wrong."

Will he remember this when he wakes?

"No!" She shook her head aggressively. "His mind is very good, very well trained, but it wasn't impossible to work with. Remember, I know what kind of training Charles Xavier gives to his students. I was able to get around it. He'll remember the sex... or at least enough that he'll know it was good, but the bite, or anything else that might make him suspect is gone."

Then you should not feel so guilty Stealth advised her. You have done nothing wrong.

"Yes I have, Stealth," she disagreed. "I said I wouldn't feed from any of the X-Men ever again and I broke that promise tonight. I-I could not help myself, I wanted him so bad, and his blood smelled so good..." she paused, remembering how wonderful his blood had tasted. How it sent fire racing through her body. "It was good, Stealth. It was too good. Not just the blood, but the sex too. It was... the first time in years, the first time since-" She stopped abruptly, refusing to say the name that sprang to the tip of her tongue. "-Since him that I felt alive."

And what is wrong with that? Stealth asked. I watched both of you earlier, out here and in the house. He is a beautiful man with a beautiful body. I would not mind having him myself. It is good that you enjoyed it. It is good that you fed.

"You're forgetting something, oh wise, fearless, teacher of this piece of worthless crap."

What is that?

"You forget that the X-Men know what I am. They know of my existence. And they don't like me one little bit, anymore. If Remy talks too much, they'll probably tell them exactly what he fucked tonight. And then they might hunt me down. They didn't like me feeding from one of their members, they won't be crazy about me feeding from another, I'm sure." She inhaled deeply from her cigarette, holding the smoke into her lungs.

You don't know that all the X-Men hate you, just the one they call Scott. Stealth countered.

"Oh yeah, right," She snorted. "The professor will never forgive me for what I did to-" Again she stopped before the name could be spoken.

Bobby, Stealth supplied.

Her nostrils flared and her eyes shifted to red. "Yeah, that's right, Bobby. There, I said his name, are you happy?"

It is not a matter of happy. It is a matter of getting you to face your past and quit hurting yourself over it. The professor did what he thought was best. He was dealing with an unknown then. You did not even know what you had done, and I wasn't around then to tell you. But that does not mean he hates you. The X-Men are powerful. You have told me that. If they really disapproved of you, don't you think they would have tried to eliminate you by now?

"If they liked me so much, then why did they kick me out, oh wise one?"

Stealth paused. He had no answer to that question, he didn't know all the circumstances. Your past is not the issue here. He tried to keep his mental voice low and soothing. What has been done is done, and that includes tonight. You cannot take away what you did, you can only go forward from here. If it bothers you that much to associate with any of the X-Men, then don't see this Remy any more.

She shrugged. "Easier said than done."

Why?

She couldn't resist a smile. "Because he's good, Stealth. He's real good.

Now I think you're just trying to make me jealous.

Since Stealth couldn't laugh aloud, she did so for both of them.

End of Chapter Three.

Author's notes: (yes, again!)

The first two posts to this story, I asked people to write me and I really appreciate all the ones who did. I have learned that it is not considered polite to insist on responses so I wish to apologize. I never meant it to seem so much like I was begging. I simply wanted to know if it was worth my time to continue wasting space with this story or if I should give it up. (Not quit my day job as Darqstar says) I am used to writing stories for small groups. I thought that if I did give up "posting" the story, I would send it privately to people at the people who were interested. Darqstar though, tells me that she is planning on posting it no matter what I say, and I have told Lori she may archive it too, so I guess I will be posting it no matter what.

So, I will no longer ask for opinions on this story, I promise. And I shall finish this to the end, mostly because I think Darqstar would hurt me very badly if I did not. *smile*

I hope you have enjoyed the story up to this point and will continue to enjoy it in the future. Again, I am sorry I pestered people to write me.

Blessings
JF Jackson.