Well, part three is here, later than promised, but in my defence the part has been finished all but a few words for the last few days (I have been unable to get into the right frame of mind to put the closing sentences together and do a general once over read through).
As always it is dedicated to Laura (riverchic1998) who continues to read my Logan/Veronica and willingly admits that I have converted her to my way of thinking.
TITLE: Untitled (So far, suggestions?)
RATING: R (for now)
SPOILERS: Up to, and including, “Hot Dogs”
SUMMARY: What happens to Logan and Veronica after the confrontation with her mom? How far is she going to let things go before she gets cold feet?
PREVIOUS PARTS: Can be found via the Veronica/Logan link in my memories.
So here it is:
Sitting on one of the chairs poolside at Logan’s house, Veronica stared into the clear rippling water, studying the pretentious Golden Globe pattern of the tiles on the bottom of the pool as the full moon reflected onto them.
Logan sat on the seat next to her and twisted the top off a new bottle of vodka, taking a healthy gulp before passing it over to Veronica, “looks like you could do with some of this.”
Smiling faintly in thanks, Veronica took the bottle and held it to her lips, drinking a few mouthfuls before handing it back, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. She really didn’t like drinking, but it was a new bottle, and she would have seen if Logan had put anything in it – God, she was so distrustful of everyone, he was only trying to make her feel better. *But what if he is just trying to get you drunk?* that little cynical voice in her head questioned, but it was soon drowned out by the hum of oblivion as she took another drink, then another, and another, anything to get rid of the images of her Mom and Jake Kane together.
Lying back on the reclining pool chair, Veronica watched as the light from a passenger plane flew over head, her mind was a little bit fuzzy and her thoughts unclear, but that was actually rather a good thing as far as she was concerned. She turned her head, ignoring the mini-spin that her brain did at the movement, and smiled over at Logan, who had also rearranged himself on his own chair, the bottle of vodka, over half empty and long forgotten, was rolling on the patio on its side somewhere near the edge of the pool.
Although the incident with her mom wasn’t completely forgotten, much of the pain she had been feeling had been numbed by the copious amount of alcohol she had just consumed. She stood up on wobbly legs and staggered over to sit beside Logan, her hands stroking over his denim-covered legs. “You know I don’t mean to be a tease, don’t you?” she managed to get out, at the same time her fingers began to tease at the stretched-to-the-limit zipper, slowly easing it downwards to relieve the pressure somewhat.
“Ronnie…” he said her name quietly, an almost-reverent sigh as finally the pain from the zipper was completely removed and his jeans lay open. He rolled onto his back, giving her even better access, and closed his eyes, a sleepy, drunken smile on his lips.
Part of him, the sensible part, knew that she didn’t want this, that there was something that caused her to panic whenever things went too far, but the part of him that was all raging-hormone, teenage boy consumed with lust, was ignoring it. The touch of her fingers was making him insensible, oblivious to anything outside of her hands tentatively touching him, teasing him, tormenting him, dragging him to the screaming edge.
Blood pounding loudly in his ears, Logan reached down and pulled Veronica up until her face was level with his. Even over the strong smell of vodka that drifted over him every time she breathed, she still smelled like Veronica, a mix of apple shampoo and bodywash.
He lightly brushed his fingers down over her slightly mussed blonde hair and tugged her down, drinking from her lips as his hands strayed over her shoulders and down her back. He delicately stroked over each of her vertebrae through the thin t-shirt, before slipping underneath the white cotton to fiddle with the awkward back fastening of her bra.
Arching her back, Veronica moaned his name when he brought his hands around to her front and cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently before brushing his callused thumbs over her hardened nipples. Unable to resist the little teasing voice in his head that promised untold rewards, Logan pushed her t-shirt up and over her head. This left her clad just in the cotton and lace bra, and lifted his head, sucking on one of the nipples through the thin material until it was damp from the heat of his mouth.
Veronica dug her nails into Logan’s shoulders as he increased the suction, his tongue teasing her hardened flesh, and she began to rub her lower body against him, hooking her legs around his, desperate to get closer to him.
Logan wanted more, he continued to suckle on one nipple as his hands moved down her back and cupped the firm globes of her ass, dragging her body even closer to his, easing a little of his own lust-induced agony. Somewhere on the periphery, he registered that Veronica was drunk, and that normally she wouldn’t let him this close, although he had no idea why – she kept so many parts of herself a secret – but he wanted the chance to show her that he wasn’t the person he often made himself out to be.
Pictures were searing through her mind, she could see that beautiful white dress she had thrown away after the party, she could see the airy room where it had happened and she could see him, or at least she could see a shadow of him. Struggling to catch her breath, Veronica pushed Logan away and scrambled off the chair, brushing her hands frantically over her body as though trying to wash away evidence of something. Her eyes wide and filled with panic, she didn’t even see Logan, all she could see was the faintest of memories playing over and over in her head. She collapsed on the ground at the very edge of the pool and buried her head in her hands, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobbing.
Logan was at a loss. One moment she was on fire, her body rocking against his, the next she was in a sodden heap on the ground. He sucked in a deep breath and pulled up the zipper on his pants and walked over to stand beside her. He had never been in this situation before. Normally the girls cried after they had been with him – and definitely for different reasons, but then, Veronica had never been a normal girl, and he wouldn’t want her to be.
He stood behind her for a few moments, one hand awkwardly outstretched, but not touching her bare shoulder, unsure of what he should do. He almost cried out in relief when he saw the patio doors from the main house open, and Trina – still sporting her dark eyeglasses, though the black eye was only a vague shadow on her pale skin – walked out into the garden.
Trina was not the most sympathetic of women, and she would likely accuse him of having done something – although what, he had no idea – but she was a woman, and perhaps that is what Veronica needed, especially as her mom was the last person it seemed she could talk to. “Logan…Dad wants to see you in the den…” she walked closer to the couple, the loud clack of her heels echoing in the uncomfortable silence.
Eager to escape from this strangeness – Veronica was a strong person yet twice today, in the space of just a few hours, he had seen her crying as though her world were ending, and both times she hadn’t told him anything – Logan picked up his shirt from beneath his sun lounger, and walked towards the patio doors leading to the kitchen. He glanced over at Veronica for a few moments, before he entered the house and wished that a woman’s tears didn’t make him – and almost every other man on the planet – feel completely useless.
If you liked, leave feedback, if you didn’t tell me why, it will help me to improve.