Exercise

It all started with some innocent flirting over lunch. Well, semi-innocent, she amended. When it came to Remy LeBeau, there was no such thing as innocence any more, if he'd ever been innocent.

He stretched back from the table, showing off his chest muscles again, and laughed heartily. "Chere, if Remy go full-out to seduce you, you wouldn't last a month."

"Right. Just keep tellin' yourself that, swamp rat." She savored the creamy Brie she had spread on her rye toast. She was enjoying teasing him. "Besides, you can't touch me. What's the point of seducing somebody if you can't ever do anything with her once you do?"

Remy's eyes flashed and he leaned over the table. She moved forward and he whispered, intimately, "You be surprised what Remy can do, chere. Already got five ways around your powers, and working on a sixth."

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She murmured back, "Doesn't matter. You couldn't get me to agree to it anyway." Why not dare him? Besides, if he really did have (five?) ways around things…it might not be so bad to ‘lose.'

He pulled back and ruffled his hair. His eyes grew serious and swept her body intimately. "Gonna let this ol' thief try anyway?"

She pretended to consider it, her yellow glove hiding the smile coming to her mouth. "Why not? You can't possibly do it."

He looked around the room, casually noting that no one was left before leaning in to her conspiratorially. "Let's set some ground rules, then. Give us both a fair shot."

She laughed. "Like I'd let you set the rules. Rule One: Do what Remy says. Rule Two: See Rule One."

His lips twitched and he tapped his fingers to his chest. "Come on, chere. That'd be no fun. Whether thievin' or seducin', the best part is the challenge." His eyes shone with mischief and excitement.

She looked at him suspiciously. "All right, legend in his own mind. How ‘bout this. Rule One. No touching." She sat back, waiting for his enraged reaction.

His thin eyebrows raised and he grinned. "Was gonna suggest that one, believe it or not." She shook her head. "Okay, don't believe me. Rule two. No one and nothing else touching."

She blinked. He wasn't saying …

He nodded slowly, grin broadening. "If Remy don't touch you, chere, no one and nothing touch you." His voice quieted to a whisper. "Not your pretty hands, not any of the things you keep in the third drawer, second row of your dresser, and no other man. Or woman, either."

She was turning red. She was red. He looked? He knew about … oh, God. He knew about all of her toys, probably. And the books. She focused her green eyes on her hands, twisting in her lap. His insidious, tempting voice continued. "'Course, chere, Remy gotta be fair. Rules one and two apply to Remy as well. No usin' any of the things in his hidin' places."

She looked up at last. He winked. "Put all my energy into you, chere. Better not waste it anywhere else."

The heat was fading from her face. "I don't know if you can survive, Remy. After just two days, you're gonna be a walking hard-on, aren't you?" She had to look away again. The idea of him walking around aroused … the way his pants would stretch …

"We see about that, non?" He gave her another scorching glance. "That all the rules you want?"

She thought for a moment. No touching, and no touching … "Rule three. Bedrooms are off limits." She glared at him. He leaned back in his chair, letting his coat fall open and nearly giving her a glimpse of his stomach.

"Rule four. No tryin' to avoid each other, chere. We're still on for Friday." He stroked a hand over his faded blue shirt. "Besides, we don't want everyone to know."

She twirled a lock of her hair around her index finger, absently. "I don't need to make it a rule that if there's a mission, this whole thing is off, right?"

He smiled. "No. Remy not askin' to go beyond common sense, chere. Just a little game with a big payoff. My kinda deal."

"There should be a time limit." She let go of the strand of hair, which sprang back.

"How about a month?" He leaned back again. His muscular hips were barely contained by his old blue jeans. Oh, God. She was looking at him already. She'd never make it a month.

"Two weeks," she blurted out, trying to distract herself.

He shook his head slowly. "Three. No shorter."

"Deal!" She was eager to get this stupid thing over with.

"Just one more thing, then we done." He took her gloved hand in his. "What do I get when I win? Other than the obvious."

"You want more? And what do you mean WHEN you win?" She raised her left hand, intending to slap him, and he took it in his right.

"Say, Rogue tell her amour how right he was and take him to see a show in town?" He kissed the back of her right hand. "Aida still gonna be playin' then."

She cleared her throat. "Fine, because it won't ever happen. When I win, you're gonna cut out some of that gloating you do. And you're taking the school out for pizza."

"The whole school?" He cocked his head. "You askin' for it. Deal." He let go of her hands and bent in close to her ear. "Startin' now. See you later. All of you."

She fought to show no reaction as his eyes lingered on her breasts, then collapsed onto her chair. What had she gotten herself into?