It’s downright creepy. This is what I tell myself as I walk in the opposite direction, feeling her/his eyes on me. Creepy, but yet this nucleus of friction is warming inside me, warming to the thought.

So, now we have on our hands an almost-seventeen, cursing, cigar-smoking, liquor filching, horndog teenage girl. And she/he wants me.

I first realized it in biology class. I was lecturing about cellular division or some such thing and I felt eyes on me. Intense, feral eyes, like his. A gaze that I felt in my clit. But he left. He’d been gone for days. And the gaze was coming from Rogue.

Rogue. Little slip of a thing, innocent wide eyes that can burn with anger, pale skin like mine, and a mouth that … oh. Her mouth.

Anyway, I looked up, expecting to see one of the boys on the other end of that heavy, wanting stare, but it wasn’t. It was Rogue. Her hair was down, falling around her face, chin in her gloved palm, leaning forward with interest. She was watching me. Her tongue came out and licked her bottom lip. It wasn’t conscious, or at least deliberate. She quickly looked away.

She’d only been with us a few weeks. She hadn’t yet learned to shield her thoughts.

-Want to lick that mouth, those little blowjob lips, wanna kiss you hard, hear your heartbeat quicken underneath, make you writhe-

I swallowed and looked down at my notes. Bobby and Jubilee were whispering at the back of the class. Perfect excuse.

“Mr. Drake, Ms. Lee, have something you’d like to share with the class?”

Bobby composed himself first. “No Miss Grey.”

I put down my chalk, gave them my best eyebrow-raised look. “Open your books to page 76. Jubilation, start reading the section on osmosis.”

Jubilee was a drama queen, her normal voice a rising-falling-shrieking charicature of a teen girl voice, but she had the worst reading voice I’ve ever heard. She read the words atonally, as if they were from a list, not strung in a sentence, so that understanding her took work. I pinched the top of my nose and leaned on the podium. Bad choice for out-loud reading. I couldn't even concentrate.

Rogue was sucking on her pencil eraser. She was staring into nowhere, obviously not aware that she’s doing it. The suckling is rhythmic, firm. She is looking out the window. I watched her covertly for a few seconds and realize with horror that I was totally turned on. Did that make me a lesbian, a creep, a pedophile?

Definitely not teacher of the year.

I didn’t enter her mind, just sort of lowered my shields in her direction. When I do that it’s not quite entering someone’s mind. It’s just catching projections.

This is what I told myself, anyway.

-Want to spread you apart, spread your legs and suck on your clit, I bet it’s so pretty, I bet you’re a natural readhead, aren’t you Jeannie, I bet those red curls smell so nice-

Logan's voice, through the filter of Rogue's consciousness.

I swallowed. Darted a glance her way. She was flicking her tongue over the eraser. It was barely visible. I would never have noticed had I not been clued in to her thoughts.

Her eyes met mine. They widened almost cartoonishly for just a split second, and she looked away. I have never seen someone blush so red. I felt the blush myself, because I have been invading her thoughts.

The bell rang, and I was saved for the day.

She’s got much better controls in class now. She doesn’t meet my eyes and she stares directly at her book. She counts to one hundred again and again. I feel bad for the poor girl. At this rate she'll flunk her midterm.

I had a dream last night. She was all grown up and we were walking through the woods. Two friends going hiking. She turned around, and I had this armful of young girl. She was so soft, nothing like a man, no hardness, just curves and softness everywhere. She kissed me, and I moaned. Then I woke up.

This has really got to stop. Not her thoughts, after all they are harmless, but my reaction to it has got to stop. This is turning me on way too much. The Logan-in-Rogue’s-head hybrid is turning me on more than Logan ever did.

“Coming to bed, hon?” Scott says. I’m at the desk in our suite, grading papers. I feel his hand on my neck, moving slowly.

“In a few minutes.” His hands are on my back, moving aimlessly, the way you do when you have been with someone for years. A soft moan rises from the back of my throat and my eyes open wide.

It was the same sound I made in my dream.

“Feels good, honey.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmmm.”

“Come to bed soon.”

“Just two more.”

Scott walks away.

His touching has turned me on and I had every intention of making love to him but when I turn out the lamp I see him, fast asleep in a pool of moonlight, still wearing his shades. Quietly, I remove them from his face, and slide on his visor. I crawl in next to him.

Again, I am dreaming. She is warm, soft, sticky. Our lips are warm and fevered, kissing and kissing and kissing. Her hair is like dark chocolate silk in my fingers. I feel her thin body against mine, so pliant and eager and as into this as I am. This excites me. I feel her nails gentle on my neck. “Rogue,” I whisper lustfully.

“Yes?” She asks, teasing me, with wide-open not-so-innocent eyes. My hand on her shoulder is touching bare flesh and I realize that her shirt has suddenly disappeared. She is wearing a dark green bra and I hook my finger in the front clasp, pulling her closer. She smiles, then she is kissing me again. Our arms are all tangled up in hair and in each other.

“He wants you,” she whispers hotly in my ear. I can tell by the sound of her voice that she is smiling.

“Yeah. What does he want?” I feel so wet and full on the inside.

“He wants to kiss you like this.” We kiss, slow and heavy. She pulls back and in the moonlight she touches my chest with one finger, drawing a line from my shoulder to my nipple, then circling.

“He wants to touch you,” she says. I shiver involuntarily.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What else does he want,” I beg.

“He wants to slam into you, fuck you for hours. Fuck you hard, and fast, then slow and gentle.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re so pretty, Jean. And I want you too.” Her voice is sweet like honey. She is from the South.

“I want you, Rogue.” I pull her to me and kiss her again. Her bra has disappeared. Her breasts are pressed to mine. I shift to keep my balance and her nipple brushes mine. Warm friction radiates.

She is wearing jeans and I worm my fingers down the front, pressing into the groove between her legs. She breathes loud and slow. I curl my fingers, keep moving, moving, rubbing. She makes a high keening moan.

“Oh yeah, you like that honey?”

“Ohgodyeah Jean.”

“Hmm. Good. I wanna make you come.”

She moans again.

Her eyes open wide and she grabs my wrist, hard. The message is implicit. Don’t stop.

Her pretty lips part. “Oh!”

“You’re so ready.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so wet and ready.”

“Yeah. Oh, Jean… I’m gonna...”

“Yeah, I’m gonna rub you til you come, Rogue.”

“Ohyeah! Ohgod! Oh!”

Rogue screams in my ear. Scott shifts abruptly beside me, sitting upright. Something is different. Down the hall, there is screaming.

“Jean? D'you hear that?”

“Hmm?” I am in bed. With Scott. I blink. “Huh?”

But he has already bolted up. “Sounds like Rogue had a nightmare. Go back to sleep hon,” he mumbles, pulling on a tee-shirt.

Rogue.

I lie back in bed, wipe the sweat from the back of my neck.

The dream. In the dream, we were-

I don’t dare come with him to check on Rogue. My own heart is pounding too wildly. If I look at her, I will come.

Oh my god.

She was just about to-

It was real.

She screamed not because of a nightmare, but because she was coming in her dream.

We were dreaming the same dream.

Is that really possible? Was she projecting or was I?

It’s perverse, but I have to test it. I reach, past sleeping half-psyches, past Scott who is concerned, down to the room down the hall.

“You wanna talk about it?” Scott’s voice is calm and supportive. I love that about him. I see what she sees. She is staring at her bare hands.

“No!” She shakes her head violently.

“Allright. We’re right down the hall if you need us,” he says.

“Okay,” she whispers, staring a hole in her quilt. Need us, she thinks. Need. I need Jean. I need her to finish what she started.

I pull away. It seems too intrusive. Shields back up, and it’s just me in our bedroom. A matter of seconds before Scott will be back.

I want to rip off my nightgown. My panties. But I lie still while he pads back to bed.

“She okay?” I mumble, feigning sleepiness. I am wide awake, alert, my heart pounding.

“Yeah, she didn’t want to talk. I think she was embarrassed to have me in her room.”

“Hmm. Come to bed.”

No sooner does he settle the sheets over him, then I straddle him. “Jeannie?”

“I want you.” Is all I say.

“Oh?” He arches his hips and I feel that he is already starting to harden. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“You look hot. Take off the visor.”

He does. I like it this way. Even if I can’t look into his eyes, I can see his face when he comes. Beautiful.

I grind on him and his mouth opens. Pretty mouth. I kiss him. In the dream hers was softer. He looks soft but up close he has the grain of stubble on his chin. I lick him and he makes a high moaning sound that ratchets my heat up another notch. I clumsily pull his pajama pants off. Boxers too. Leave them halfway down around his knees and forget them.

I pull my panties to one side and sink down on him, just like that. Every inch fills me. If he could open his eyes, they would be wide with surprise.

“You’re so ready," he says, when he is finally able to speak.

“Yeah.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Hmm,” I am already halfway there, moving on him. “Scott...”

“He wants to slam into you, fuck you for hours...”

A sharp moan comes out of me, as if from nowhere. I look down at him. Imagine him shorter, broader, hairier. Wonder what Logan’s cock feels like? I whimper and grind myself down on him all the way. He gasps. I feel him pulsating inside me.

Scott’s fingers flutter over my clit. “I’m gonna rub you ‘til you come.” I’d said.

And then it is all just a jumble of flesh, writhing, striving flesh, me and Scott and Rogue and Logan and me, all together.

“Scott.”

“Ohyeah.” He starts rubbing my clit in precise circles with his middle finger.

“Hmm!” I bite my lip. Anyone passing in the hall would hear us.

Ohgod, I’m so tempted.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

I reach.

She is awake. Fingers moving hard, rubbing down hard, stopping to tease, gentle as air, then rubbing again. She whimpers, so quiet, just a vibration in her throat. She is seeing me. And Logan. Thrusting in her. In me. She is kissing him. He kisses me. She is me and he is her and he is fucking me so hard-

“OhJean. Oh, honey, I’m so close.”

“Wait for me, babe.”

“Yeah. Come for me.” Impossibly dextrous, he manages to rub me just right all while I’m rising up and down on him. No one else has ever done me that good. “Sogood, Scott, oh, don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop.” Her hand like a vise on my wrist.

Then she is moaning and wiggling and thrusting and rubbing and she is flying, thinking of kissing my lips, my swollen red lips...

And I am flying with her; I pull out of her mind so I don’t harm her as I come, and it resounds in me, a throbbing wave that starts at my clitoris and radiates outward. I’m riding Scott, riding the waves, and I know that he feels me clench rhythmically around him.

“Oh Jean. Feel so good.”

I dig a foot under his leg and in one quick movement I am on my back, with him on top of me. He keeps his eyes closed.

“Do it,” I hiss.

He is slamming in me. Somehow I don’t think Logan could do me this hard. He feels so good, hitting me deep with every thrust, ass plunging him into me. I flutter and hover close to coming again. Frantically rub myself. Friction there catches, oh yeah. I’m gonna go again.

“Wait!”

“Oh, god, you’re hot.”

“Hmm. Mmmmm…” I’m making all nonsense words, rising, rubbing, closer, higher.

"...rub you ‘til you come..."

And the rhythm inside me coalesces and becomes more linear, faster and faster, and I am moving up, and up, and...

Then there is nothing but me, flying over the edge.

Scott is coming into me. He is straining and making those pretty little moaning noises that inflame me and his legs are spasming. Then he stays in me all the way, and I feel him pulse.

Later we lie tangled and sweaty. He is lazily stroking my arm.

"Damn."

"Hmm."

"I want you again."

"We should sleep. We both have early classes."

Rogue. Oh, I don't know how I'll face her in the morning.

But every muscle in me is relaxing, warming, sleepy.

And again I'm dreaming.