"Gambit! Phone!" Bobby called down the hall.
Remy picked up the phone. He covered the bottom of the receiver with his hand. "Got it!" he yelled back. "Hello?" he purred into the handset.
"Bonjour, LeBeau," Emma Frost replied. "What *exactly* have you gotten my student involved in?"
"Not'in' t' worry y'r beautiful head on, chere. Just a yout' group. Plenty of flatscans, but no one dere'll give a damn she's a mutant."
"You are taking me to dinner tonight. Dress appropriately. I will expect you at six." She hung up on him.
"Merde." Remy went to find Scott.
Emma checked her appearance in the mirror. She opened her shirt another button and was satisfied. She stalked down to her office. Sean looked her up and down. "I'll not expect ye by curfew then," he said dryly. "Don't hurt the thief or Summers'll never let it go."
"I know *exactly* what I'm doing," she replied.
"And what did you get Jubes involved in?" Scott asked sharply, leaning against the doorjamb of Gambit's room.
"A yout' group run by a friend of mine in Boston. It'll do her good t' get out of dat den of depression once a week. Besides, she *likes* Jo," Remy said winking at the older man.
"Fine. Just don't get into trouble. And I've been thinking seriously about that apprenticeship you proposed. If Logan agrees, do it."
A smile blossomed on Remy's face. "Merci, Cyke." He kissed Scott's cheek before hurrying down the stairs.
"Brat," Cyke muttered.
Emma stalked a circle around Remy. She let her eyes linger where they would. His usual trenchcoat had been replaced by one of green leather. It brought out the red of his hair, she decided. Black leather pants clung to the thief like a second skin. A crisp, black linen shirt was emphasized by a crimson tie with an ace of spades stickpin. Oddly enough, it looked like the one Jubilee had taken to wearing. She nodded her approval and led the way to the garage.
Remy's eyes lingered on the swirl of white skirt that lapped at the ankles of high-heeled white leather boots. His eyes drifted up to rest on the cleavage so perfectly framed by white silk. He caught a hint of white satin below it. A brushed white wool blazer completed the look. Remy pulled on black leather gloves as he followed her gently swaying hips to the car.
Remy settled into the passenger side of the Porsche. His bangs fell, obscuring one crimson eye. He looked through it at the dashboard. He ran his fingers covetously over the stereo system. Emma smiled and tore out of the garage. She turned up the music until the very air of the car throbbed.
Remy leaned back into the seat and tipped his head back onto the headrest. His eyes closed in pleasure. Emma appreciated the exposed line of his throat. She reached over and stroked one finger down its length. He arched into the touch as shamelessly as any cat.
The maitre de fell over himself when he recognized two of his most wealthy clients. He seated them at his best table and the conversation and speculation ran rampant through the room. "Thank you, Marcus," Emma purred, slipping a fifty into his pocket.
"Always a pleasure, Ms. Frost, Mr. LeBeau."
Dinner was a leisurely affair, accompanied by a dry white wine and a discussion of investments. Eventually, they turned to more immediate concerns. "What have you gotten my student involved in?" she demanded over white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake.
"M' friend has somethin' of a yout' group. She invited Jubilee t' join. Jo comes t' pick her up, oui?"
"Yes. He's a nice young man, but untrustworthy."
"Funny. Dat's what Mystique says about moi."
Emma smiled at that. "I have a new acquisition at my penthouse I would like your opinion on."
"Of course, chere." Gambit signaled for the check and paid as they finished dessert.
Frost's penthouse apartment was plushly appointed in black and white marble, deep red carpeting and dark wood. Built in niches highlighted her art collection. Remy nodded in approval of the security he noted. He tucked his shades into his pocket.
Emma's heels snapped sharply against the marble as she walked. Remy's shoes made no sound as he followed her. He helped her out of her coat and she laid it over the back of an armchair. She set Remy's trench atop it. "This is my newest baby," she informed him, gesturing to the picture behind him.
"Y' bitch," he whispered, fingers brushing along the frame. "y' outbid m'."
"Well, that answers my question as to its authenticity." Emma smiled. "Would you like a brandy?"
"Oui, merci." Remy swirled the liquid in the snifter, charging it to heat it. He sat sideways on the couch, one leg folded under the other and leaned against the back, glass settled lightly on his knee. His leg brushed her thigh.
"Now, we can get down to business. *What* is Jubilee learning at this group?" she asked bluntly.
"If Logan agrees, she goin' t' be my apprentice," he replied honestly.
Emma cupped his chin with one hand. Her delicately airbrushed fingernails tapped against his cheek. "And *who* gave *you* permission to determine *my* student's training?" she asked.
"Cyke and hopefully her pere," Remy answered defiantly. Emma shook her head.
"But you haven't convinced *me* yet," she purred. "Foolish little boy. Why should I approve of this? You are ruining the moral fiber of my students. Why should I approve?"
Remy thought quickly. "Because it'll upset Cassidy."
Emma's laughter was like icicles shattering on the ground, high, and crisp, and clear. She shook her head. She leaned closer until her lips rested against one delicate earlobe. "But what do *I* get, Little Boy."
"Depends on what y' want," Remy whispered.
"Obedience," she purred. Her bright pink tongue darted out to caress the edge of his ear. His breath caught. He let his charm wash over her and she pressed her lips to his. His lips parted at the insistence of her tongue.
Emma adored the peppery spice of his mouth. She wanted to absorb every last drop of the flavor. She took the brandy from his unresisting fingers and his hand drifted up to touch her chin. His empathy rested against her shields and she ruthlessly pushed it away. His pulse jumped under her fingers.
"Do you agree?" she asked, pulling away from the kiss for an instant.
"Oui," Remy breathed, "but Remy ain't too good wit' rules."
"He will be," she informed him, "or he'll have to be punished." She licked his lips. Remy's hand rested on her knee. "Show me you're a good little boy." He dipped his chin and looked up through his lashes at her. He folded his hands in his lap. "Stay," she said into his ear and went to her room to change.
Gambit debated walking out right then. If Rogue found out, she'd kill him. She'd tear him limb from limb. And if anyone else found out, he'd never be able to lose the 'whore' appellation Worthington had labeled him with. But on the other hand, it would get him Jubilee to train. And he was honestly starved for contact. He flirted heavily with everyone from Betsy to Cyke, cut he never got more than a hug. Rogue didn't even let him have that most of the time. In the end though, the decision was made when Emma stood before him in her full glory.
Her boots were thigh high, laced, white leather. She wore a white satin bustier with straight lacing. Silk stockings were held up by the hint of a garter belt beneath her short skirt. A white cape flowed over her shoulders. The sharp blackness of the riding crop was a visual shock where it rested against her hip. In the breathless moment before she spoke, no one else mattered to Remy.
She lifted his chin with the end of the crop. He looked up with worshipful eyes. "On your knees, Little Boy." He complied. He settled on his knees and sat back on his heels to stare up the length of her body. "Lick me," she ordered, widening her stance.
He placed a gentle kiss to the inside of each thigh, right above the boot, then placed suckling kisses up her thighs, moving the skirt up with gently caressing fingers. The crack of the crop in the ear next to his ear made him jump. "You do not have permission to touch," she said, her voice an arctic wind. She dropped the handcuffs to the floor. "Put them on. Behind your back, then continue." Remy shivered. He closed the metal around each wrist, keeping his shirt between the metal and his skin. They wouldn't hold him for more than thirty seconds if he wanted out.
He didn't want out.
He moved his mouth up the inside of her leg. The scent of her filled his senses. He restrained the moan that came from the pressure of his cock against the restriction of his pants. He tentatively lapped at her slit, tasting the salty tang and wanting more. He worked his tongue in gentle circles, yearning to touch every part of her. His tongue teased along her labia, then thrust into her.
This time when his charm caressed her shields, Emma let it in. It ran through her system like fireflies, sparking passion in her blood. The feel of that admittedly talented tongue between her legs and the gleam of restrictive silver against the black of the thief's clothing spiraled heat into her center.
Remy swirled his tongue around her clit. He grazed it with his teeth and went back to his perusal of her slit. She was hot and slick from his tongue and her own juices. He wanted to plunge deep into her body. Even the feel of her around his finger would help the growing stiffness between his legs. The moist space between her legs was hot and dark and it was getting harder to breath as her thighs pressed together to hold him to his task.
Emma resisted the urge to push down and force his mouth more tightly to herself. She was so close. Her thighs trembled with the strain of not crushing together. She shuddered and her mind blanked with white heat as she climaxed. Remy's tongue moved more quickly, then froze inside of her.
As her muscles relaxed, he cleaned her gently with tiny laps. She slid the skirt up her hips so she could pet his head. She stepped back and drew him to his feet. She kissed him, tasting herself overlaying the spicy flavor of his mouth. She caressed his hard cock. It jumped beneath her fingers. He moaned into her kiss. "Not yet," she purred.
She carefully removed his tie and opened his shirt. The dark fabric made him look more pale than he truly was. She tweaked one nipple and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. She fondled him gently and he whimpered pleadingly. She shook her head and sat down on the couch. She picked up his brandy and tapped her thigh. "Lay your head here." He leaned against her leg.
Remy jumped as the glass pressed to his lips. Then, he took a tiny sip of the liquid. He chased the last drop from his lips with his tongue. She continued to feed him the drink, her fingers twinning into his hair and stroking down his throat by turns. His arousal faded slightly with the soothing actions.
Suddenly, she stood. He looked up at her as she carefully took off her skirt and cape. She undid her bustier with as much concern as she'd have shown stripping in front of her cat. Remy licked his lips as her breasts were revealed. Emma had the battle hardened body of most X-women, even if she was mostly a teacher. She was mouth-wateringly delectable. She let down her blonde hair and it floated near her shoulders. Remy was aching to touch her.
He pulled lightly on the restraints and they held firm. He looked up at her with big eyes. "Mistress, may I worship y'?" he asked softly. She smiled in pleased surprise, then reached down to pat his head.
"In a moment," she told him. She led him to her bedroom. It was decorated in shades of wine with gauzy white curtains that let in the moonlight. A metal canopy bed occupied half of the space.
She stripped him of his shoes and pants, clucking at his lack of underwear. "You are a slut, LeBeau." He grinned unrepentantly at her. She fastened a leather strap at the base of his cock. He shook his head in denial, but she ignored him. She kissed him gently and he fed all the need he could into the kiss, but she was in control of it, not him.
She carefully buckled a black leather collar about his throat. It was decorative more than anything. He squirmed under her touch. She taunted him with a cupped palm at his groin. His hips moved towards the sensation. She rolled a condom over his throbbing cock and pulled him to the bed. She laid him down across it, the down comforter cushioning his wrists.
He struggled, wanting to touch her, hold her, crush her mouth to his until they were gasping for air, or suckle at the hollow of her throat until she moaned. He wanted to play her body's responses until she could barely tell the sensations apart. She held him with a hand to his chest and one hand squeezing his balls. "No," she said sharply and pressed a single finger against his Adam's apple. "You lie there and do what I say, nothing more." He stilled and she mounted his cock.
She rode him hard, nails leaving red streaks down his chest. His hips thrust in the rhythm her body demanded. A single tear slid down his cheek as she climaxed. She slid off of him and disposed of the condom. He was trembling with need. His hips still moved, seeking anything. She dragged him to his knees next to the bed. She whispered in his ear. "Bring me off once more and I'll let you come. Understand?" she asked almost kindly.
"O-oui," he whispered. She settled on the edge of the bed and guided his head between her legs. He teased her clit with his tongue for a long minute. Her hand rested gently on the back of his neck, fingers kneading the muscle there. His tongue slid into her once more and his cock jumped, remembering the feel of her body around him. His cock was an angry swollen red. He rubbed against the dust ruffle as his mouth worked Emma into a frenzy. Suddenly, she tensed, her hand and thighs sealing him to her groin. She lay back sated and Remy panted air into his starving lungs.
After the bliss faded, she sat up. The thief was still on his knees, cock weeping. His eyes were dilated so widely that only a thin sliver of red showed. He was panting. His hands twisted in the cuffs. She noticed a faint pink glow beginning to form under his knees. She freed his cock. Two firm strokes later, he came, spurting onto the wool carpet with a groan of relieved pleasure. His head dropped onto her shoulder and she kissed his forehead fondly.
TO: firecracker @ gen-x.edu
FROM: Cajun @ xavier.edu
SUBJECT: 2 down 1 to go
Frosty's on board.
Cyke's on board.
Just need Wolvie's okay.
"My doctor says I have a malformed public-duty gland and a natural deficiency in moral fibre, and that I am therefore excused from saving Universes."