A Taste of Innocence - L/V - NC-17 - rindee
Title: A Taste of Innocence
Author: Rindee
Word Count: 9,500, mas o menos.
Pairings: Logan/Veronica, Duncan/Logan, Duncan/Veronica, implied Lilly/Logan.
Rating: NC-17, and then some. A little sex, a little slash, and a some awkward groping.
Spoilers/warnings: prequel fic, so no spoilers per se. Some slash, though it’s primarily Logan & Veronica’s story.
Summary: Everyone’s getting some, except for Veronica. And she’s not happy about it.
A/N: Written for the “Someone’s Watching” challenge at
vm_library. Muchas gracias to the most wonderfully deviant betas anyone could ever ask for: 
moire2, mastermia, and taken_with_you - I know I don't deserve them, but they're mine and I love them. I've wanted to write Lilly, and a prequel fic, for the longest - but I have no idea how the nice little fic I planned turned into this. As usual, I’m blaming it on the characters, who just seem to do whatever they please.
“Just go on in, ‘Ronica,” Lilly says with a smirk and a wink. “The ‘rents are in Napa for the week, and I know Donut will be happy to see you.”
“Thanks, Lil,” Veronica waves as, seconds after she slams the car door, Lilly peels out, gunning the motor and leaving thick black rubber marks on the pristine driveway of the Kane mansion. “I’ll call you later....”
Tugging at her demure denim skirt and rearranging her backpack, Veronica sighs, gazing at the front door. She’s known Lilly and Duncan since ... forever, but the recent change in her relationship with Duncan has left her feeling apprehensive and a bit confused.
Duncan was – is – everything a girl could want in a boyfriend; he’s kind, considerate, and attentive, but ever since she started dating him, a month ago, things have been ... awkward. Although she loves the comfortable reassurance of his arm slung over her shoulder, it felt odd to walk the halls with him, sensing the resentful stares of the other freshman girls, knowing they were whispering behind her back, looking forward to the day Duncan would tire of his prim and modest girlfriend and dump her.
Ringing the bell, she shifts from one foot to the other. Why does it feel so different, now? They’d been hanging out, doing homework together since fifth grade? He’d waited until their second date to kiss her, nervously leaning in to shyly press his mouth to hers. She’d blushed, clutching at his argyle sweater and tilting her head up. The kiss was soft and sweet, his tongue barely skimming her lips. They’d both giggled after, happy to have managed it without embarrassing themselves, and Duncan had squeezed her shoulder, telling her how long he’d been waiting to kiss her.
Duncan’s not the only one who seems different now; Logan and Lilly have been odd too. Often, when she arrives at their lunch table in the quad, Logan will shove his shoulder into Duncan’s, muttering a sly comment in his ear while giving Veronica the once-over with glittering, ominous eyes. It makes her feel naked, exposed, as though Logan knows something she doesn’t.
Recognizing Veronica, Maria opens the door with a smile. “Duncan is upstairs, in his room,” she advises, gesturing toward the stairs. Nodding, Veronica thanks the maid and heads up, walking softly over the plush carpet. From down the hall, she hears the excited hum of familiar male voices; Logan is laughing, Duncan protesting faintly, and there’s the sound of a scuffle.
She pauses outside the door, the harsh noise of something ripping filling her ear. Though she can’t make out all the words, she can tell Logan is taunting Duncan, his voice smug and cocky. “C’mon, DK ... don’t be shy .... It’s ... what you want. Go for it.”
Listening closely, she catches the bounce of bedsprings. Duncan groans, as if he’s being struck. He murmurs something soft to Logan; she can’t quite make it out.
“Just ... here ... yeah, like that....” Despite her vantage point outside the room, she’s aware of the sudden change in Logan’s voice, his sharp intake of breath before he chuckles, low and rough. The tone sends shivers down Veronica’s spine.
Without knocking, she spies into the dim room through the two-inch crack in the barely-open door. She sees Duncan’s broad, tanned back, and part of his profile. Slouching casually on the bed, Logan is facing Duncan, his eyes lowered to the other boy’s hand. Startled, she freezes, eyes focused on the two figures within. Oh my God! Waves of nausea and dizziness flood her body. She wants to cry out, look away, but she can’t.
Logan guides Duncan, fingers draped around his wrist, down to his erect cock. Falling to his knees with a thud, Duncan opens his mouth with a sigh. She can see his ruby tongue edge out and curl around .... Oh, God, oh, God. Her eyes flutter involuntarily; utter shock is the only thing keeping her upright.
This must be a dream. When she opens her eyes, hoping the room would be empty (because that’s the way it happens in the movies), Duncan is still on his knees, head bobbing between his best friend’s smoothly-muscled thighs. Logan’s head is thrown back, one fist clutching the dark satin duvet, the other twined in the soft brown hair at the base of Duncan’s neck. Mesmerized, her brain registers Duncan’s slurping moan as he ... Duncan’s mouth, his lips ... wrapped around Logan ...sucks Logan’s dick. Unable to tear herself away, she watches with sick fascination, hand over her mouth to keep from gasping aloud.
“Shit, DK,” Logan grunts, pelvis thrusting as he shoves his cock at Duncan. “Hoover’s got nothing on you.”
From her angled vantage point, she can see a flash of slick, pink skin – Logan’s belly – and the darker, blood red of his tumescent dick sliding in and out of Duncan’s swollen lips. She can feel her blood pounding, I can’t ... I shouldn’t be here. Rooted to the spot, she continues to gape, ignoring the warning voice in her head and the strange, unbidden tingling in her body.
Duncan’s hands – his gentle, familiar hands – roughly grasp at Logan’s hips as he bends and takes Logan deeper in his throat, his movements speeding up as Logan groans, harsh and guttural. “Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come,” he mutters, reaching under Duncan’s chin to fondle his own balls.
“Uh huh,” Duncan murmurs, mouth full.
With a stuttered heave, Logan cries out, hips pumping as he slumps back on the bed. Veronica can only see the back of Duncan’s head, and a bit of his profile, but when she sees him wipe the corner of his mouth, any naive doubts she may have had about Duncan’s innocence are shot to hell.
Veronica knows she has to get out, now, before they see her. Head down, she cautiously sidles away, but before she can safely retreat, her dangling backpack scrapes the wall. Startled by the soft rustle, her wide eyes flash to meet his – Logan’s – gleaming triumphantly as he struggles to raise himself and capture Duncan’s mouth in a sloppy, possessive kiss. Tiptoeing backward, the last thing she sees are her boyfriend's hands gliding up his lover’s arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did I do something wrong? she wonders, staring into the bathroom mirror, her face still red and puffy. Sighing quietly, she slips between the crisp sheets and presses her buzzing head to the cool pillow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Veronica knows she can’t confide in Lilly; how would she explain what she’d seen? She can’t even understand it, much less describe it to Lilly, of all people. During third period English, Veronica either gazes off into space or peeks through her fingers at Duncan sitting across the aisle. But he looks the same as always, studiously focusing on Mrs. Murphy’s questions, answering eagerly, unlike Dick and Logan, who carry on in the back row as they did every other day.
At lunch, Duncan slides in next to her as usual, handing her a S’kist and beaming at her mumbled thanks. She can’t look at him, though, can’t meet his sparkling blue eyes. Her stomach lurches when Logan sits opposite them.
“Hey, Ronnie, DK. ‘S up?”
Smiling wanly, Veronica nods and buries her head in Geometry, feigning study while listening to her boyfriend and his best friend go on and on about their after school surfing plans. Her thoughts are interrupted when she glances up to see Logan’s dark eyes intently focused on her.
“Gonna join us, Ronnie?”
“Join you?” she repeats stupidly, unable to think ... about anything but Logan’s mouth covering Duncan’s.
“On the beach, you know, sun, sand, water. A little fun, Veronica. You can’t study every minute of every day.”
Chewing her lip, Veronica quickly shakes her head. “I – I can’t. I ... I have to ... help my mom,” she fibs, ignoring Duncan’s downcast face. Logan shrugs, nonchalant and casual.
“That’s okay,” he smirks. “I’ll keep Duncan safe for you, won’t I, DK?” Logan reaches across the table, and, with the tips of his fingers, lightly slaps Duncan’s cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary.
“Get outta here, Logan,” Duncan replies, shoving back roughly.
“Veronica MARS,” Lilly trills from the other side of the quad, halting their conversation. “Stopping teasing the boys and get over here,” she commands with a grand wave. Relieved to be rescued, Veronica slams her book and jumps up. Before she can take a step, Lilly calls again. “VeroniCA!”
“I better go see what she wants,” Veronica apologizes, her face closed and blank. Nodding mutely, Duncan rolls his eyes in exasperation.
“By all means, go see what the queen wants,” Logan snarks. “Off with you, shoo.” He flicks his fingers at Veronica, determinedly refusing to look at Lilly as she preens in hot glare of the midday sun. “Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.
“Careful, Logan,” Duncan chimes in. “She won’t take you back if you’re not – ”
“You’re gonna get back together,” Veronica hurries to assure Logan, her eyes darting back and forth between Lilly and her crowd of sophomores, and Logan and Duncan and their table of freshman elite. “I – I know you will. I’ll see you later.” She bends, shyly brushing her lips over Duncan’s temple.
“See ya,” Duncan agrees wistfully, watching as she scurries away.
“C’mere, Veronica,” Lilly repeats, reaching for Veronica’s arm and pulling her to stand at her hip. “What’s up with you and the doofus?”
“Huh?” Veronica stares at Lilly with a puzzled, guilty look. “Nothing, Lil. Duncan’s fine, we’re fine.”
“Not Donut. Logan, my bereaved ex. I saw the way you were glaring at each other. Did something happen? Did he – he wouldn’t dare say anything bad about me – he didn’t, did he?”
Veronica opens her mouth to reply, snaps it shut, opens it again and says, “No, Lil. He’d never. Logan ... loves you. ... You know that, right?” Veronica’s forehead creases, her face the image of concern and worry.
“Duh! Of course he does. Who doesn’t?” she giggles, tossing a sheaf of blond over her shoulder as she pivots to face the half-circle of guys surrounding them. “Casey loves me, dontcha, Case?” she prompts with an inviting smile. Winking, Casey Gant cocks his finger and “shoots” Lilly, grinning broadly until he remembers Logan and Duncan are likely watching.
Nervously, he glances around before leaning in to ask, “So, Lil, now you’re a free woman and all, go out with me tomorrow night?”
Running an appraising glance up and down Casey’s bod, Lilly shrugs. “Sorry, Case,” she banters insincerely, “but I already have plans for Friday night." Nudging Veronica, she stage-whispers, “What kind of guy waits until Thursday to ask a girl out? Maybe next week,” she adds, turning back to Casey. Poker-faced and stoic, Casey nods.
“O-kay. If that’s the way you want it. I guess I’ll wait until Monday and see if you’re still a free woman, huh?”
“Fine,” Lilly snaps peevishly. “But don’t wait too long, my dance card fills up quick, ya know? C’mon, Veronica,” she continues, linking arms. “Go with me to the library so I can check out Anaïs Nin – I have a book report due tomorrow.”
Blushing, Veronica allows Lilly to pull her into the dark, cool corridor before shaking free. “What was that about, Lilly? You’re not really gonna go out with Casey Gant, are you? His reputation is worse than – ”
“Veronica, Veronica. Sweet, simple Veronica.” They stop in the hall, facing each other. Reaching over, Lilly tucks an errant wisp of hair behind the other girl’s ear and smooths it back. “You know, if I weren’t going to take him back once he grovels, I’d say you should go out with Logan. I mean, I know you wouldn’t, what with you and Donut being virgins and all, and just perfect for each other, but, really, Veronica, one of these days, the two of you are gonna have to get over yourselves and just have sex. It’s fun, Veronica. You’ll really like it, assuming Donut knows what to do.” Lilly rolls her eyes. “That’s why Logan’s so great,” she shimmies exaggeratedly. “He’s wild, Veronica. He’ll do anything.” Batting her eyes dramatically, Lilly begins to shake again, this time with laughter.
For the rest of the day, Veronica can’t concentrate, her best friend’s words swirling in her brain. She’s walking to Lilly’s shiny new BMW when Logan and Duncan swoop down on her, Duncan snatching her bookbag from her right shoulder, while Logan, coming in from left, tugs her ponytail. Startled, she yelps, her elbow catching Logan in the ribs as she flails.
“Wow, Mars,” he snarls, rubbing his chest. “Jumpy today, aren’t we?”
As she stares at Logan, mouth agape, horrified she may have hurt him, Duncan takes her hand in his.
“Pay no attention to him, Veronica. I’m happy to see you.” Tilting down, Duncan plants a chaste kiss on her lips.
“Hey! I’m happy to see her, too. Where’s my 'hello' face-suck?” Logan teases. When Veronica looks up, however, the glint in his eye doesn’t match his affable tone.
“Get your own girl, Echolls. This one’s mine.” Duncan curls Veronica possessively into the crook of his shoulder. Beaming, she relaxes into his side.
“No pro-blemo, chief. But hey, next time, don’t ask me to share with you.”
“That’s fine, Logan. I don’t want to kiss my sister anyway.”
“Who said anything about your sister?”
“Did I hear someone mention my name?” Lilly inquires grandly as she strolls up to the threesome.
“Hey, Lil.” Veronica’s eyes sparkle as she watches Logan squirm.
“Um, no. We didn’t mention her name, did we, Logan?”
Toeing the ground, Logan mumbles, “No, I don’t think we did.”
“Well, fine! I can see I have work to do here.” Unlocking the driver’s door, Lilly asks, “Okay, party people, where’re we going?”
“The beach,” Duncan and Logan chorus.
“Home,” Veronica replies firmly.
“Veronica Mars!” Lilly exclaims. “You can’t leave me alone with these two. You simply have to come with us.”
“Call your mom, Veronica,” Duncan says gently. “I’m sure she’ll let you go.”
Veronica’s torn between the urge to enjoy the glorious, late spring afternoon at the beach with her friends, and the revulsion she feels remembering the image of the boys she's locked in a box in the back of her mind. Even as she remembers, she steps away and pretends to call home. Holding the phone to her ear, she watches surreptitiously as Duncan and Logan feint and jab, circling each other with mock ferocity.
Rolling her eyes at them, Lilly shoots Veronica a look and makes the universal “hurry up” sign with her hand. Dropping her phone into her purse, Veronica raises her thumb.
“Alright, Veronica,” Lilly applauds. “Let’s go, boys.”
Everyone piles in as Lilly starts up and pushes the button to lower the convertible top. Gunning the engine, she leaves the parking lot in a spray of stone and gravel. Detouring only to the Kane house to pick up boards, suits, and refreshments, they are at the beach in no time.
Whooping and hollering, Duncan and Logan race into the surf. Lilly and Veronica spread blankets and prepare to sun themselves. Oiling each other’s backs, they ignore the commotion and settle in. Veronica closes her eyes with a heavy sigh, her mind drifting. The cawing gulls and rhythmic wash of the waves soothe her, lulling her to sleep like a lullaby.
She wakes to a low-pitched murmur in her ear, and the cool sensation of sea water dribbling down her belly. “Wha – cut it out, Lil,” she mumbles, annoyed.
“Wake up, Ver-on-ica,” Logan sing-songs, looming over her, a cup of water in hand.
“Huh?” She sits up with alacrity, her arms reflexively winding around her bare midriff. “Lo – Logan. Wha – where’s Lilly?” She glances around the beach and out to the surf. “And Duncan? Where are they?” Hearing the shrill of her voice makes Veronica wince, but she can’t control her frisson of fear at the idea of being alone with Logan, even on a public beach.
“They went to get burgers and ice cream. They’ll be back in a minute.”
“But – why? – we have sandwiches in the cooler.”
Arching one elegant brow, Logan shrugs, folding his long legs and sitting down beside her semi-recumbent figure. “Lilly wanted a cheeseburger, and you know how she is when she wants something.”
Scrambling backward, Veronica grabs her shirt and yanks it over her head. As it clears her face, Logan absently pats her hair into place, tucking a strand behind her ear in an unconscious imitation of Lilly’s gesture at school. Without thinking about it, Veronica slaps him away. “Don’t touch me,” she blurts.
“What’s up with you today?” he says in his best patient-and-placating voice. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, uh ... nope. Why would I be mad at you?” Her azure eyes are wide and guileless as she lies to him.
Shoving his fist into the sand at her hip, he angles forward so his mouth is inches from hers. “Because you saw your rosy-cheeked boyfriend blow me yesterday?” he drawls.
Aghast, Veronica’s lips form an ‘O’ before she covers her mouth with her hand. “You ... you saw me?” she mumbles through her fingers. “I – I ... you and ... Duncan.... What were you doing, Logan? Are you and Duncan – ” She stops, unable to finish the sentence.
“Are we what, Veronica? Gay? Is that what you think you saw?”
Speechless, she bobs her head, unwilling to make it worse by saying anything else. Logan’s jaw clenches, his soft molasses eyes turning hard and stony as he cocks his head to peer up at her.
“Relax, Veronica. You know boys will be boys. We were just having a little fun. You have nothing to worry, I assure you.”
“But ... you were ... I saw you....”
“It was just a little oral sex,” he purrs, his knuckles tracing a path down her bare arm. Her expression is earnest, but there’s a gleam of a slightly different sort in her effervescent eyes. “You and Duncan haven’t...?”
She shakes her head tightly, lips pursed in a thin, tense line. He nods once, watching her face. Beneath his fingers, he can feel a slight tremble, and there are goose-bumps despite the golden warmth of the late afternoon sun.
“No,” she whispers, hesitant and ashamed. “He wouldn’t ... I don’t....” Her hands twist in her lap. “I don’t think I’m ... experienced enough for Duncan.”
Logan chuckles, the sound rumbling deep and throaty in his chest. “I don’t think Duncan expects you to be ... proficient at sex. He knows you’ve never – he knows he’s your first real boyfriend.”
“But ... I don’t see what that has to do with the way he was ... touching you.”
“Veronica Mars.” He throws his head back and lets loose a loud guffaw. “Now I get it. You’re upset because he was touching me and not you? Is that it, Mars?”
She doesn’t admit it, but her face gives her away. He’s about to say something when he recognizes the happy chatter of his ex and her brother echoing over the sand.
“Call me tonight, Veronica.” He winks. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”
“Who wants a chocolate shake? I know you do, don’t you Veronica?”
Relaxing her hands, finally, Veronica scrambles to her feet and jogs over to meet Lilly and Duncan, unaware of Logan watching intently.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She’s almost asleep when her cell buzzes. It’s eleven-thirty. “He – hello?”
“Veronica,” he croons in her ear.
“Uh huh. Yeah.”
“I told you to call me.”
“Logan?”
“Yeah. Who were you expecting?”
“No one. It’s late, Logan.”
“And you were supposed to call me.”
“I – I don’t think I want to talk about it any more.”
“I think you do.”
“No, I don’t. Not tonight. It’s late, and we have school tomorrow. I’m going to sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Don’t forget about tomorrow night.”
“What’s tomorrow night?”
“You remember, Mars. The Kane family is appearing at a function at Torrey Pines, and Duncan and Lil have to be there. You and I were going to hang out and watch movies?”
“Um ... yeah. I forgot. I’ll have to check with my mom.”
“I get it. Nevermind. I should have known you’d punk out on me. Just stay home and study. It’s what you do best, right? Good night, Veronica. Sleep well.” He hangs up before she has a chance to reply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wiggling into his gentle embrace, she closes her eyes as he inclines his head toward her. His warm lips close over hers, his tongue tickling the crease of her mouth until she smiles, opening to admit him. Sighing happily, she settles back against the pillow, snug and protected in his arms. His hand whispers up and down her arms as their kiss deepens.
“Veronica,” he breathes quietly, sea-blue eyes inspecting her face. He kisses her cheekbone and nuzzles into the downy hair behind her ear. “Can I ....”
“Mmmhmm,” she murmurs.
Delicately, he slides his fingers beneath her slip-of-a-tee shirt and raises it, drawing aimless patterns on her sensitive skin before tracing circles over the plump swell of her breast. Inhaling languidly, she whimpers once, fingers pressing into his shoulder. His mouth finds her smooth, pale neck. He licks, then sinks his teeth into her flesh in a harsh, amorous bite. Gasping in surprise, her head rolls back, chin to the ceiling, as he defines the slender column of her throat with heavy, sucking kisses, devouring her.
He sweeps the flat of his thumb over her peaked nipple. As she arches into his grasp, he palms her breast roughly, crooning her name. Excitement builds and she begins to quiver, the heat of his mouth and the motion of his hands sending a sharp tingle through her body. She moans aloud when his mouth descends to her taut, pink bud, nipping and licking. Flushed and damp, her skins is on fire as the tight knot in her belly becomes a burning sensation between her legs, shock waves effusing from her core.
“Oh, God,” she groans, fingers clenching in his thick, dark hair.
“Sweet Ronnie,” he mumbles. “You’re so hot.”
Heart pounding, she blinks. “Oh, God ... Logan?!”
Veronica bolts up, chest heaving, cell phone still clutched in her hand. Peering at its illuminated face, she realizes it’s 3:47 a.m. Logan? I was dreaming about....? Heart still racing, she pulls a pillow over her face and curls into a ball. Taking long, deep breaths, she wills herself back to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Veronica!” Keith calls from the kitchen. “Better hurry, Lilly’s waiting.”
“I know, I know.” Rolling into the kitchen, Veronica stops to buss her father’s cheek, grabbing a piece of toast as she passes. “Where’s Mom?”
“Your mother’s not feeling too well today, so she’s decided to stay in bed.”
“Oh. ... Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, just a bit under the weather. Check on her when you get home from school, okay?”
“Um ... it’s Friday, Dad.”
“Yes. Yes, it is. Do you have plans?”
“Well ... Logan and I were going to hang out at his house, maybe watch a movie.”
“Logan? ... You’re spending time with Logan?”
“Yeah, well, Duncan and Lilly have to be somewhere, and I promised him I’d keep him company.”
“Okay, well, that’s fine. Just call when you’re ready to come home. I don’t want you driving with him.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I will.” The annoyed shrill of an automobile horn pierces the air. “Okay, gotta go, Pops. See you later.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, okay,” Veronica calls, skipping down the walk to Lilly’s idling car.
“C’mon, Veronica. I’ve got places to go and men to do.”
Nice, Lil - make sure Logan can hear you. Veronica skids to a stop at the passenger door. Duncan is in the front, next to Lilly, and Logan’s in the back seat. Usually, Duncan and Logan sit together in the back.
“Hey, Veronica,” Duncan smiles, getting out and holding the door for her.
“Backseat?” she asks, surprise evident in her voice.
Patting the leather next to him, Logan looks up, his scowl fading. “C’mon in. I promise not to bite.”
Laughing, Lilly barks, “Riiight. As if Veronica would ever let you touch her, anyway, Echolls.”
“Shut up, Lilly,” Logan and Duncan chorus. Veronica climbs docilely into the back, setting her bookbag down between her and Logan. Arching an eyebrow, he stares inquisitively at her, his bright eyes carefully assessing her stiff, awkward body language.
As she flies through Neptune, easily doubling the speed limit for residential streets, Lilly pops in Pink’s latest, moving to the beat, “Let’s get it started....”
Talking beneath the heavy base throb, Logan leans over. “So ...ready to spend the night with me?” Cutting her deer-in-the-headlights eyes at him, she nods slowly, swallowing and shifting uneasily in her seat.
“Does Lilly know?”
He smirks, shakes his head. “Nope. A– ” he holds up his thumb, “it’s none of her business. B – ” He raises his index finger, “we’re not together, so it’s none of her business. And, C – ” He elevates his middle finger, “there’s nothing to tell her, is there, Veronica?”
She shrugs hesitantly. “Nu – no. Not really ... I guess.”
“You didn’t tell Duncan, did you?”
Flinching at the mention of Duncan, she stammers, “Ne, no, I didn’t. I – I barely talked to Duncan since ... since the other day, when you guys ....”
Putting his finger to his lips, Logan shushes her. “Not to worry, Veronica, we’ll talk about it tonight. I’ll meet you up in the front quad at three-thirty, okay? My mom’s picking us up.” Satisfied with her ambivalent assent, he sits back in his seat, closing his eyes to Lilly’s crazed driving.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flinging open the ornate door, Logan turns, waves to his mother, and ushers Veronica inside. “Let’s go to the pool house so I can kick your ass at Grand Turismo, huh?” He winks and grins. “Relax, Mars.” He cracks his knuckles. “We’ll talk later, after I’ve demolished you a few times, and have you at my mercy.”
Sapphire eyes twinkling, she rejoins, “I’m not that easy, Logan. If you think you – ”
“Save it, Veronica. I know you’re stronger than your cute little body would suggest.” He smirks, giving her petite form the once-over. “But I’m banking on my skill and superior reflexes to bring you to your knees.”
“Lo-gan!” she blushes furiously, smacking his arm.
Leading her out back, to the pool house, he takes her bookbag from her shoulder and casually tosses it on a chair. “What’s your poison?” he asks from behind the bar.
“S’kist, if you have it.”
“We have everything,” he grandly assures her, pitching a cold can in a high, soft arc. “You don’t mind if I have something stronger, do you?” he inquires, bending to rummage through the half-empty bottles stored below.
“I don’t mind, but your mother might.” Popping the tab, she sips daintily.
“Never fear, ‘Ronica, she’s out for the evening. She’s meeting dear old Dad in LA, they won’t be home until Sunday,” he snaps. Bottle in hand, he pours a generous serving of vodka into a cut-crystal rock glass, topping it with Seven-Up and a fistful of ice cubes. “Okay.” He rubs his hands together. “What are we drinking to? ... Oh, that’s right, our absent partners. To Lilly the bitch, and Duncan, the – ”
“Logan,” she chides in her best schoolmarm voice. “That’s not nice.”
“I’m not really a nice guy, Veronica, or hadn’t you noticed?”
“That’s not true,” she protests loyally. Raising his glass, he slugs half of it in a single gulp, quirking his brow as he swallows. “Logan?” Her voice is calm, compassionate. “You miss Lilly, don’t you?”
“We’re not here to talk about me and Lilly, so let’s don’t.” Saying nothing, she tilts her head, studying him with a clear, serene gaze. His sham smile dissolves under her scrutiny, and he bows, chin to chest.
“Is that why you ... and Duncan ... because you were mad at Lilly?”
Glaring up from under his unruly, spiked locks, he shakes his head angrily. “No. No, that’s not – leave it alone, Veronica. You wouldn’t understand.” Draining his glass with defiance, he dumps another two ounces of vodka in his tumbler, this time adding just ice. “Sure you don’t want some?” He waggles the bottle with a grimace.
Glancing slowly from his foreboding face to the bottle and back, she nods curtly. He jerks upright, surprised, and shoots her a questioning look.
“A little, about half of what you have, in a glass with ice, please.”
A leer quirks the corner of his mouth. “Veronica Mars,” he drawls. “Shock-er.”
Ignoring the implied taunt, she simply stares, eyes trained on his until he measures a single shot into an identical crystal rock glass and fills it with ice. “Here.” He thrusts it at her and waits. Switching her S’kist into her left hand, she accepts the glass, topping it off with a dollop of orange soda. They touch glasses with a clink, the sound ringing in the silent room.
“‘Sláinte.” He assesses his glass before downing a third in a single draught.
“Uh huh,” she sips her concoction, wincing at the burn.
Logan’s face brightens; he guides her to the fifty-four inch screen and flops at her feet. “C’mon down, Mars,” he commands gaily. “Let’s see what you’re really made of.” Veronica sinks gracefully to the floor, tugging primly at her skirt as she sits. Taking her drink out of her hand, he hands her a controller. “Ready?”
The game begins with a screech and a crash. For the next ninety minutes, the two relax, completely mesmerized as they sit, side-by-side, jostling shoulders and trading insults as they laugh and pilot their “race cars” through sharp turns and tunnels, yelling and groaning at each sideswipe and wipeout. Finally, with the score nearly even – despite his best efforts, Logan is only slightly ahead – Veronica calls for a fuel and nourishment time out. Logan suggests pizza, and she immediately agrees.
“What do you want on it, Veronica?” He waits, cell in hand, fingers twitching.
“Cheese.”
“That’s it? Just cheese?” His eyes narrow, sensing a fight.
“Veggies?”
Sighing theatrically, he shrugs. “What kind?”
“Whatever you like, Logan.”
“Well,” he scowls. “I don’t particularly like vegetables, so ... tell me what you want.”
“Broccoli, and tomatoes.”
“Anything else?”
“Extra cheese?” she prompts with a hopeful grin.
“You have been hanging around with Duncan too much,” he sighs with an exaggerated wince, dialing the phone.
“What?” She freezes, bites her lip and looks away. “What did you say?” Her tone is dull, her voice constricted.
“You’ve been....” Seeing her pained look, he halts. Realizing, with a start, Giordano’s is on the line, he gives the order, watching distractedly as Veronica wanders to the French doors and stares out at the pool, arms wrapped around her waist.
She turns, when he hangs up, starts to speak, closes her mouth and pivots away. In a tiny voice, head down, she asks, “Were you ... was Duncan ....”
“Spit it out. Spill.” Despite his gruff words, his voice is gentle.
“Is Duncan ... he’s just not attracted to me, is he?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true, Mars.”
“But, I don’t ... satisfy him, do I? That’s why you ... he ....”
“It’s not that. Not exactly. Um ... you don’t know much about guys, do ya?”
“I know enough,” she insists hotly. “I know you’re supposed to want to touch your ... the girl you’re dating ....”
“What makes you think he doesn’t want to touch you?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s never gotten down on his knees in front of me, Logan.” She blushes. “He’s never even touched me ....” her fingers flutter around her chest. “He’s never even tried,” she finishes, obviously ashamed.
Striding over to where Veronica is trying to melt into the plate glass window, Logan plucks awkwardly at her tee shirt. “C’mere. Let’s sit down and talk about it. Don’t be embarrassed, it’s okay.”
Leading her back to the end of the bed, where they’d been playing Grand Turismo 3, Logan sinks to the floor and crosses his gangly legs. Veronica squats uneasily on her heels until Logan jerks her arm and she topples over. Righting herself, she folds her legs in imitation of Logan, they face each other, knees almost touching.
“Trust me?”
She stirs, anxiety playing across her face. He waits. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I know you and Duncan have kissed,” he looks for affirmation, and she nods, mute, “but what else have you done?”
Unbidden, her hands twist in her lap, spelling out her reluctance to answer. She’s fixating on the carpet. “We ... um, make out....”
“You mean, like in the backseat, and you lay on Duncan, or sit on his lap?”
“Yeah, you know, make out....”
Logan flashes a lascivious grin. “Yes, Ronnie, I know how to make out. What I’m trying to find out is – when you and Duncan are making out – what does he do with his hands?”
“His hands?” Abruptly, she raises her head, gazes at Logan in confusion. “He usually ... has ... his arms around me....” Obviously ashamed, she ducks her head, her long blond hair spilling over her shoulders, curtaining her flushed face.
Deliberately, Logan leans in, lifting her chin with two fingers. “Veronica,” he sighs her name indulgently. “Does he kiss you ... here?” his fingers slip softly down the curve of her throat. Shivering, she shakes her head. Tucking under her jaw, he whispers, “Like this?” and presses his lips to her downy skin.
Gasping, her reflexes take over and she tilts her head back to permit him access. His tongue caresses her pale neck, she stammers, “Waa – what are you doing, Logan?”
“This is how to kiss a woman,” he mumbles, his voice vibrating against her. Reaching down, she cups his cheeks in her small hands.
“Stop,” she pleads, tugging at his head. Quickly sitting up, he curls his angular, slender hands over hers, loosely trapping them in his lap.
“Does Duncan kiss you like that?” he challenges, his chocolate eyes smoldering. Her head whips from side to side. “Does he use his tongue, at least?” Logan continues, his thumbs sweeping erotic patterns across her wrists.
Veronica blanches, stammers, “Ye – yes.”
“And how does it make you feel, when Duncan – when he puts his tongue in your mouth?”
Like a guppy, her mouth opens and closes. “Whaa – what do you mean? It – it feels like a kiss.”
Bemused, Logan settles her hand on his ankle and strains for her psuedo-cocktail of S’kist and vodka, handing it to her. “You look like you could use a drink.” He waits patiently while she takes a mouthful, gulps it down, before continuing, “But how does it make you feel? Do you feel it here,” his hand grazes her ribcage, “or there?” He directs his gaze to the apex of her thighs, where the merest glimpse of pink cotton can be seen. Veronica immediately pushes her skirt between her legs.
“Logan!” she protests, trying to pull away. He tightens his grip on her wrist.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just – you should feel it everywhere when he kisses you.” His smoky eyes are glowing. “Can I – do you want me to kiss you properly, Veronica? So you’ll know what it’s supposed to be?”
“Nu, no?” she quavers, breathless and unconvincing.
Keeping her right hand in his left, he rubs her shoulder with his other hand. “Just one,” he soothes, angling his head so his lips rest on the line of her jaw, just below her mouth. He kisses the ridge of her chin under her waiting mouth. She lowers her head and he covers her lips with his, breathes into her mouth. He cradles her neck in his hand, his tongue probes, warm and moist against hers. She melts into him, squeezing his fingers as she kisses him back. Their tongues dance. Smiling, he releases her, straightens his back, looks into her dazed eyes. Her lips are slick, her cheeks vivid.
Dropping his voice, he scoots closer and asks, “Has he ever touched ... your breasts?”
Shocked, she screws her eyes closed, her breath coming faster. “I told you he hasn’t, and I want to know why.”
“Maybe,” Logan muses, “he’s too much of a gentleman. Maybe,” Logan shifts closer, one knee sliding between hers, mere inches separate their bodies. “You need to tell him it’s okay for him to touch you like this.” His caressing fingers glide lower, wandering over her clavicle, brushing against her peaked nipples. “D’you like that?”
Quivering under his touch, she denies the pleasure her body so obviously feels. “Don’t....” her voices hitches. Feebly, she pushes his hand away. Captivated by her arousal, Logan thrums across her nipple again.
“I’m not so much a gentleman,” he reminds her, palming the sweet curve of her breast, stroking tenderly. He shoots her a look from under his brow, eyes sparking as he dares her to dissent. Trembling, her eyes silently plead for compassion; she pants quietly, her fluttering lashes the only other tell. He joins their lips, licking into her mouth with confidence.
Pulling away, she shudders, muttering, “I thought I could trust you?”
Sighing, he runs his fingers up her throat and pinches her chin. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He kisses her nose. “You’re just ... how the hell does Duncan keep his hands off you, Veronica?”
She shrugs, his hand still clutched in hers. Sliding to the floor, he stretches out and curls up beside her, head in hand, face at her hip. Bringing her hand to his mouth, he touches his lips to her knuckles. When the corners of her mouth twitch, he grins triumphantly. “That’s better.”
“Okay, okay, Logan, I get it. Duncan isn’t ... passionate, not with me, not like you are. But, is it because he doesn’t like me ... doesn’t like ... girls, or what? He looked like he was ... enjoying himself before, when he was – when you two....”
“Do you want me to tell you what I know about Duncan?” Logan asks slyly, his eyes trained on her troubled but radiant face. At her nod, he takes a deep breath, pondering his words. “Despite his father’s expectations, Duncan Kane isn’t a leader, not really,” Logan begins, absently tracing errant lines up and down Veronica’s thigh. “He’d rather ... be told what to do than have to think for himself.”
Shivering at his touch, Veronica tries not to fidget. “But – he always seems like he’s so in control,” she argues.
“Veronica,” Logan leans nearer, his breath hot on her skin. “Do you know how long it took me to get your boy on his knees?”
“No,” she bleats, following with a flippant, “do I want to?”
“Listen up, you might learn something about your precious boyfriend.” Surprised by his vehemence, she blinks. “Wednesday afternoon, at his house, we’re playing Grand Theft Auto, bashing the shit out of each other. By the time I kicked his ass for the seventh time, I had gotten a little ... excited. I told him I was horny, and he was like, ‘yeah, so what? Join the club.’ I knew he wasn’t get any either, so I unzipped and pulled out my dick. I put his hand on it.”
Logan wiggles closer, resting his head on her leg, his busy fingers slipping between her legs to stroke her inner thigh. She gasps sharply, but says nothing. “I told him, ‘this is what men do, they take care of their friends, so give me a hand here, bud.’ He looked at me with those big blue eyes...” Logan looks up to see Veronica’s cerulean eyes dilate, her mouth gaping as she blushes furiously. “I told him to get on the floor and open his mouth.”
“Oh, God,” she croaks, her fingers opening and closing reflexively. “Did he....”
“Like he’d been doing it all his life.” Logan brushes two fingers against her sensible, fuchsia panties; he can feel dampness through the thin fabric. “He didn’t even argue, just took me in his hot mouth and sucked me off....”
She sways, dizzy, unable to look at him. “And when I came,” he strokes a little harder against her crease – for emphasis, “he swallowed, like the good little boy he is.”
“Oh, no,” she shakes, off-balance and teetering. Reaching up, he drapes a hand on her arm, guiding her down to the plush carpeting, repositioning so their bodies are nearly aligned, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, he insinuates his knee between hers, wraps her leg over his hip.
“And then,” he tilts until his forehead rests against hers. “I kissed him. He’s not quite as good as his sister, but he’s a pretty good kisser, ‘Ronica. I don’t know why he doesn’t work for you.”
Anger flashes in her eyes. “I didn’t say he didn’t do it for me, Logan. I said I don’t do it for him.” He’s so close she can see the faint spattering of freckles on his face.
“Ahhh. There you go. Maybe it isn’t just him. Maybe it’s you, too. Maybe you don’t know what you want, or maybe you don’t know how to tell him what you want.”
“How do I – how did you tell him you wanted him to....”
“Go ahead, you can say it.” He studies the bridge of her nose, waiting. “I wanted him to – what did I want, Veronica?” he murmurs, enjoying the war taking place in her head, behind her guileless periwinkle eyes.
“You wanted him to ... to give you ... oral sex.”
Logan rears back, emits a loud bark of laughter, shakes his head. “Oral sex? - it’s called a blow job, Ronnie.”
“Okay, alright, a blow job. Happy? So, how did you tell him you wanted one?”
“It’s different for two guys. I just took his hand, like this,” he takes her hand, “and put it on my dick.” He presses her hand to his belly, slides it down to the bulge in his jeans. “He’s a guy; he knew what to do.” Glossy pink lips forming a perfect “O” she looks at him, speechless.
“And I knew what to do to make him happy, too. I laid him back on my bed, took out his cock – when he’s hard, it’s pretty big, by the way – and I took him in my hands, stroked him up and down until he was good and ready, and, when he was just about to come, licked him from his balls to his head. I took him in my mouth, ran my tongue around the ridge just under the tip, tugged his balls, and he practically erupted.”
As she listens, color mounting in her cheeks, Veronica has been unconsciously rubbing herself against Logan’s knee, her palm sweeping up and down his length, hidden beneath the rough denim of his jeans. Sensing her rising ardor, he continues.
“But it’s different for girls. They don’t always come so fast, and you have to be much gentler.” Leaving her hand on his crotch, he slips his hand underneath her tee shirt, strumming her stomach. “Like this.”
Eyes fixed on hers, his fingers climb up her ribs to sweep over her pert breasts. Thumbing her nipple through the delicate fabric of her bra, he watches her eyes roll back. Hips rocking against him, she hisses, her hands curling into his shirt. She shudders, desperately craving contact, friction, release. Rolling her onto her back, he moves into the curve of her hip and brings his hands to the hem of her tee.
“Please?” he asks softly. He swears he sees her nod in reply, so he pulls the shirt to her neck, tugging her arms out of the long sleeves before yanking it over her head.
“Oh, God,” she moans, trying to cover herself with her tiny hands.
“Hey,” he quietly objects. “Don’t be like that, you’re beautiful, and you have beautiful breasts.” Prying her hands away, he nuzzles one, and then the other, blowing moist, warm air over them. Inhaling, he smells the unique scent of Veronica Mars, sweet and clean with a hint of spice. “I have to taste you,” he tells her, reaching behind to unhook her bra.
Nestled in his arms, she’s dazed and overwrought, pliant and acquiescent to his intentions. Stealing the straps down her arms, he carefully pulls off her undergarment, bending to tease her nipples with his broad, slick tongue. Writhing, she arches into his mouth. “Oh, God. Please,” she sighs brokenly.
Working her with his lips, tongue, and teeth, his hands cradle her, spanning the space below her breast. As she gasps, trembling and flushed, he smooths a hand down her belly, slipping under her skirt, beyond her panties and into her tawny thatch. Beyond sense or caring, she mumbles his name, pleading for ... she doesn’t know what.
He dips a finger into her slippery folds; she cries out, begs him to kiss her. Releasing her nipple with a ‘pop’, he rises and smothers her mouth, the action of his fingers between her legs relentless, determined. She plucks at his shirt again and again until, suddenly, he realizes she wants him to take it off. Easing back, he whispers, “Stay right where you are.”
She nods blankly, wincing slightly as he cautiously removes his hand from her pussy. Like lightening, he jerks his shirt off. Hands momentarily free, he spreads her knees and crooks his leg over hers, leaving her open and exposed. Wrapping one hand around the back of her neck, he leans over and kisses her, licking into her willing mouth.
Her fingers circle his bicep; she tugs him onto her, groaning as their skin collides.
“Logan,” she prays with a hoarse voice, “let me touch you, please.”
Looming above her, staring intently into her lust-glazed eyes, he nods, massages her neck. “In a minute, baby. You’re so close. Let me do this for you first, okay?”
Shoving aside the damp material separating him from her heat, he swipes two fingers around her clit, watching in satisfaction as she quakes, her body vibrating with desire. “It’s all good,” he murmurs, pressing lips to her forehead, cheek, and jaw. “Just let go, Veronica,” he lovingly instructs, his fingers dancing over her slick flesh.
Arched like a bow string, her body comes off the floor when he inserts his middle finger into her tight, virgin pussy. “That’s my girl,” he coaches, rubbing her clit with his thumb.
“Oh, God, oh my God,” she rasps, hips pumping against his hand. Spreading her wider, he plunges two fingers deep, repeatedly sliding them in and out, stretching her as she breaks apart, keening his name. Curving his hand to hit the spot, he takes her over the edge, his guttural shouts blending with her plaintive cries.
When, at last, he feels her stiffen and release, he lowers on top of her, pressing his knee to her pussy and rolling so she comes to rest on his broad, muscular chest. Gasping for air, she hides in the crook of his neck. Soothing her, he rocks her like a baby, gentling her down from what is undoubtedly her first real orgasm – at least her first not-self-induced orgasm.
Just as her breathing comes more even, and her body stills, her messy blonde head pops up from his shoulder. “Now? Can I ... touch you now?”
His gaze is sober. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m good, I can take care of – ”
“I want to,” she confesses shyly. “But I don’t know if I can – ”
“You don’t have to,” he assures her, aimlessly running his hand through her golden tresses. He slides her off and tucks her into his side. Eager but hesitant, she puts her hand on his fly, looks to him for conformation. He nods, an amused smile playing over his lips.
Happily popping the snap, she guides the zipper down and pulls it open. With superhuman restraint, he waits as she moves lower, peeling his jeans off his hips and down his long, lithe legs. Hands back at his waist, she pauses uncertainly. He can read her puzzlement, and reaches down to shimmy out of his boxers, quickly kicking them away. Rising from the dark tangle of his pubis, his cock is purplish-ruddy and fully erect. He tugs it once, rubs his thumb over the moist tip.
“Should I – what do you want, um, what – ”
“Just touch me.” He puts his hand over hers, and wraps it around the ridge just under the head. “Like this.” With gentle pressure, he slides her hand up and down his smooth, throbbing skin. Quickly grasping the idea, she shrugs off his hand and, tongue between her teeth, begins to jack her hand up and down his length. Closing his eyes, he falls back, grunting in pleasure.
“Faster,” he mutters, but grimaces when she increases the speed.
“What? What’s wrong?” she asks timidly.
“It’s not – you’re too – c’mere a minute,” he says, finally. On her knees at his hip, she sidles up his side. “Gimme your hand.” He starts to lick her palm, but she pulls it back.
“Ew!”
“Your hand is too dry,” he explains drolly. Her cheeks pink. “Natural lubrication usually works,” he adds, motioning to the vee of her thighs. “Spread your legs?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow.
Shaking her head vigorously, she licks her palms and bends back, head down as she ghosts her hands over him, licks again, and smooths her spit on his dick, driving Logan wild in the process.
“Veronica,” he grits. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Smirking her apology, she fists his dick, her silky locks spilling over his groin as she begins moving up and down, varying the pressure until she hears the hitch in his throat, feels the blood rushing under her fingers. Straddling one leg, she daringly places small, wet kisses on his hipbone, quickly bringing him to climax. Groaning, he spurts, thick and creamy, into her hot little hands. “Ah, God,” he breathes, sated. “C’mere,” he demands, pulling her sweaty body up his and kissing her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She finishes applying her lipgloss just as the door bell rings. Duncan’s never late, she muses, throwing the tube in her purse. “Bye, Dad, I’m going,” she calls gaily, scurrying through the kitchen before he can interrogate her about their plans.
The night before, she’d stumbled in from Logan’s, body buzzing and brain whirling. It took two and a half hours to calm down enough to sleep, her head filled with images: Logan’s plump, generous lips descending on hers, his bewitching, midnight eyes boring holes in her face, his face contorting in pleasure when she touched him ... there. She felt like she’d just been given the secret to the universe, and now that she knew what it – sex – was all about, she was determined to see if she and Duncan....
“Make sure you have your keys, honey. I’m working late shift tonight, and your mother ... your mother might not be awake when you get home,” Keith answers from the living room.
“I got ‘em,” she hollers, slamming the door behind. Keyring jingling from her fingers, she skips down the walk to the Kane SUV. Hopping out of the front seat, Duncan kisses her cheek and squeezes her shoulder. “Don’t worry, my dad’s gonna drop us off at the boardwalk,” he confides, opening the back door and holding out his hand to help her climb in.
They eat at a little place on the Pier. After dinner, elbows on the table, they hold hands and watch as the sun glows rosy gold, painting the sky peach and purple before it slips below the horizon. Suggesting a walk on the beach, Duncan rises and possessively takes her hand in his. Happily acquiescing, she kicks off her heels when they hit the sand, squishing her toes in its damp coarseness.
Determined to find out whether or not Duncan really wants to be with her, she brushes against him at every opportunity as they stroll in the twilight. He squeezes her hand tighter, nearly crushing it in his fleshy fingers; she doesn’t know if he does it in response to her or because he thinks she’s scared or something. It isn’t sexy, but she thinks maybe he’s just not a good hand-holder.
Despite his lack of èlan, she’s excited to be close to him, thinking of Logan’s lessons. Remembering Logan, and the night before, makes her head swim. She knows she’ll be in the mood when – if – Duncan makes his move. They must be a mile from the Pier when, rounding a breaker, they find themselves in a sheltered cove.
Halting, Duncan jerks her to him, sending her slender body slamming into his solid one. Awkwardly embracing her, he smashes his lips so hard on hers, their teeth click when she opens her mouth. Roughly shoving his tongue inside, he pants heavily, his arms literally crushing the breath out of her in his effort to get closer.
Thrilled at his aggressiveness, she tries to show him what she wants, twining her fingers in the short hair at the back of his neck, sucking at his tongue to slow him down. Suddenly, she’s distracted, noticing his hard-on, which is stabbing her in the belly.
Placing her hands on either side of his face, she gently pulls him away, leaving him clutching her body, huffing in confusion. “Relax, Duncan,” she soothes, rubbing his arms.
“I’m sorry. Did I – are you okay?”
“I’m good. I’m fine. I just – maybe we could sit down?” She glances around, looking for a rock or something to perch on. Shrugging out of his jacket, Duncan spreads it on the sand, helps her sit. Alighting next to her, he proceeds to kiss her again, with vigor, pushing her onto her back and flattening himself on top.
Now she can feel both his erection and his belt buckle digging into her abdomen as he squirms, pressing her with the full weight of his body. Ribcage trapped under his girth, she tries to loosen up and enjoy it, the feel of his tongue in her mouth, the sensation of his hands on her arms. But, where Logan probed sinuously, firm but fluid, Duncan rams into her mouth as if the goal is to see how far down her throat he can get.
Sliding a hand between them, he presses it against her breast, squeezing and manipulating it as if it weren’t attached to her body. “Ow,” she gasps when he squishes her nipple between his fingers.
“Sorry, sorry – I’m sorry, Veronica,” he stammers, chagrined, scrambling off of her and sitting up.
Smiling bravely, she comforts him with sweet kisses to his neck and jawbone. He continues to avert his flushed face, grabbing handfuls of sand and flinging them off to the side.
“I ... I’m just ... not good at this. I haven’t dated much before you.”
“It’s okay,” she insists, wishing she could tell him about ... what she learned the day before.
He looks at his watch. “We’d better go back. My Dad’s sending the car; it’ll be here at ten-thirty.” Clambering to his feet, he holds out his hand.
Sighing inwardly, frustrated and maybe a bit angry, she holds on as he pulls her to her feet. Lacing their fingers together, they stroll back the way they came.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spinning the dial for the third time, Veronica is glaring at her locker when she hears her name. Looking up, she spies Dick Casablancas, with Logan, who smiles shyly at her from across the hall as the two walk past.
“Hey, Veronica,” he nods, giving her a covert finger wave.
“Hi, Logan,” she replies, blushing as she feels a knot of tension throb in the pit of her stomach.
Punching Dick on the shoulder, Logan spins on his heel and traipses back to her locker, leaning next to it with a smug grin. “How was your date,” he inquires slyly, his finger tracing patterns over the garish metal. Momentarily spellbound, she watches his hand, licking her lips. “That good, huh?”
“Wha – what? I’m sorry,” she ducks her head, “what did you say?”
Putting his lips to her ear, he whispers, “It was that good, huh?”
“Yeah, it really – what? Oh, my date with Duncan? It was okay.”
“Only okay? I don’t understand, because you were – ”
The bells rings, interrupting him. Wrenching her book from the bottom of the stack, she glances at the clock. “Listen, Logan, are you doing anything after school today?”
“Uh, I don’t think so. Why, whatcha need?”
“Because I – ” her eyes dart up and down the hall, “I was thinking we could hang out again today.”
He eyes her for a second, momentarily unsure of her meaning. At once, he breaks into a genuinely happy smile. “Sure thing, Veronica. It would be my pleasure. I'm sure we'll find something fun to do.”
Ready for Another Taste?
Author: Rindee
Word Count: 9,500, mas o menos.
Pairings: Logan/Veronica, Duncan/Logan, Duncan/Veronica, implied Lilly/Logan.
Rating: NC-17, and then some. A little sex, a little slash, and a some awkward groping.
Spoilers/warnings: prequel fic, so no spoilers per se. Some slash, though it’s primarily Logan & Veronica’s story.
Summary: Everyone’s getting some, except for Veronica. And she’s not happy about it.
A/N: Written for the “Someone’s Watching” challenge at
vm_library. Muchas gracias to the most wonderfully deviant betas anyone could ever ask for: moire2, mastermia, and taken_with_you - I know I don't deserve them, but they're mine and I love them. I've wanted to write Lilly, and a prequel fic, for the longest - but I have no idea how the nice little fic I planned turned into this. As usual, I’m blaming it on the characters, who just seem to do whatever they please. “Just go on in, ‘Ronica,” Lilly says with a smirk and a wink. “The ‘rents are in Napa for the week, and I know Donut will be happy to see you.”
“Thanks, Lil,” Veronica waves as, seconds after she slams the car door, Lilly peels out, gunning the motor and leaving thick black rubber marks on the pristine driveway of the Kane mansion. “I’ll call you later....”
Tugging at her demure denim skirt and rearranging her backpack, Veronica sighs, gazing at the front door. She’s known Lilly and Duncan since ... forever, but the recent change in her relationship with Duncan has left her feeling apprehensive and a bit confused.
Duncan was – is – everything a girl could want in a boyfriend; he’s kind, considerate, and attentive, but ever since she started dating him, a month ago, things have been ... awkward. Although she loves the comfortable reassurance of his arm slung over her shoulder, it felt odd to walk the halls with him, sensing the resentful stares of the other freshman girls, knowing they were whispering behind her back, looking forward to the day Duncan would tire of his prim and modest girlfriend and dump her.
Ringing the bell, she shifts from one foot to the other. Why does it feel so different, now? They’d been hanging out, doing homework together since fifth grade? He’d waited until their second date to kiss her, nervously leaning in to shyly press his mouth to hers. She’d blushed, clutching at his argyle sweater and tilting her head up. The kiss was soft and sweet, his tongue barely skimming her lips. They’d both giggled after, happy to have managed it without embarrassing themselves, and Duncan had squeezed her shoulder, telling her how long he’d been waiting to kiss her.
Duncan’s not the only one who seems different now; Logan and Lilly have been odd too. Often, when she arrives at their lunch table in the quad, Logan will shove his shoulder into Duncan’s, muttering a sly comment in his ear while giving Veronica the once-over with glittering, ominous eyes. It makes her feel naked, exposed, as though Logan knows something she doesn’t.
Recognizing Veronica, Maria opens the door with a smile. “Duncan is upstairs, in his room,” she advises, gesturing toward the stairs. Nodding, Veronica thanks the maid and heads up, walking softly over the plush carpet. From down the hall, she hears the excited hum of familiar male voices; Logan is laughing, Duncan protesting faintly, and there’s the sound of a scuffle.
She pauses outside the door, the harsh noise of something ripping filling her ear. Though she can’t make out all the words, she can tell Logan is taunting Duncan, his voice smug and cocky. “C’mon, DK ... don’t be shy .... It’s ... what you want. Go for it.”
Listening closely, she catches the bounce of bedsprings. Duncan groans, as if he’s being struck. He murmurs something soft to Logan; she can’t quite make it out.
“Just ... here ... yeah, like that....” Despite her vantage point outside the room, she’s aware of the sudden change in Logan’s voice, his sharp intake of breath before he chuckles, low and rough. The tone sends shivers down Veronica’s spine.
Without knocking, she spies into the dim room through the two-inch crack in the barely-open door. She sees Duncan’s broad, tanned back, and part of his profile. Slouching casually on the bed, Logan is facing Duncan, his eyes lowered to the other boy’s hand. Startled, she freezes, eyes focused on the two figures within. Oh my God! Waves of nausea and dizziness flood her body. She wants to cry out, look away, but she can’t.
Logan guides Duncan, fingers draped around his wrist, down to his erect cock. Falling to his knees with a thud, Duncan opens his mouth with a sigh. She can see his ruby tongue edge out and curl around .... Oh, God, oh, God. Her eyes flutter involuntarily; utter shock is the only thing keeping her upright.
This must be a dream. When she opens her eyes, hoping the room would be empty (because that’s the way it happens in the movies), Duncan is still on his knees, head bobbing between his best friend’s smoothly-muscled thighs. Logan’s head is thrown back, one fist clutching the dark satin duvet, the other twined in the soft brown hair at the base of Duncan’s neck. Mesmerized, her brain registers Duncan’s slurping moan as he ... Duncan’s mouth, his lips ... wrapped around Logan ...sucks Logan’s dick. Unable to tear herself away, she watches with sick fascination, hand over her mouth to keep from gasping aloud.
“Shit, DK,” Logan grunts, pelvis thrusting as he shoves his cock at Duncan. “Hoover’s got nothing on you.”
From her angled vantage point, she can see a flash of slick, pink skin – Logan’s belly – and the darker, blood red of his tumescent dick sliding in and out of Duncan’s swollen lips. She can feel her blood pounding, I can’t ... I shouldn’t be here. Rooted to the spot, she continues to gape, ignoring the warning voice in her head and the strange, unbidden tingling in her body.
Duncan’s hands – his gentle, familiar hands – roughly grasp at Logan’s hips as he bends and takes Logan deeper in his throat, his movements speeding up as Logan groans, harsh and guttural. “Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come,” he mutters, reaching under Duncan’s chin to fondle his own balls.
“Uh huh,” Duncan murmurs, mouth full.
With a stuttered heave, Logan cries out, hips pumping as he slumps back on the bed. Veronica can only see the back of Duncan’s head, and a bit of his profile, but when she sees him wipe the corner of his mouth, any naive doubts she may have had about Duncan’s innocence are shot to hell.
Veronica knows she has to get out, now, before they see her. Head down, she cautiously sidles away, but before she can safely retreat, her dangling backpack scrapes the wall. Startled by the soft rustle, her wide eyes flash to meet his – Logan’s – gleaming triumphantly as he struggles to raise himself and capture Duncan’s mouth in a sloppy, possessive kiss. Tiptoeing backward, the last thing she sees are her boyfriend's hands gliding up his lover’s arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did I do something wrong? she wonders, staring into the bathroom mirror, her face still red and puffy. Sighing quietly, she slips between the crisp sheets and presses her buzzing head to the cool pillow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Veronica knows she can’t confide in Lilly; how would she explain what she’d seen? She can’t even understand it, much less describe it to Lilly, of all people. During third period English, Veronica either gazes off into space or peeks through her fingers at Duncan sitting across the aisle. But he looks the same as always, studiously focusing on Mrs. Murphy’s questions, answering eagerly, unlike Dick and Logan, who carry on in the back row as they did every other day.
At lunch, Duncan slides in next to her as usual, handing her a S’kist and beaming at her mumbled thanks. She can’t look at him, though, can’t meet his sparkling blue eyes. Her stomach lurches when Logan sits opposite them.
“Hey, Ronnie, DK. ‘S up?”
Smiling wanly, Veronica nods and buries her head in Geometry, feigning study while listening to her boyfriend and his best friend go on and on about their after school surfing plans. Her thoughts are interrupted when she glances up to see Logan’s dark eyes intently focused on her.
“Gonna join us, Ronnie?”
“Join you?” she repeats stupidly, unable to think ... about anything but Logan’s mouth covering Duncan’s.
“On the beach, you know, sun, sand, water. A little fun, Veronica. You can’t study every minute of every day.”
Chewing her lip, Veronica quickly shakes her head. “I – I can’t. I ... I have to ... help my mom,” she fibs, ignoring Duncan’s downcast face. Logan shrugs, nonchalant and casual.
“That’s okay,” he smirks. “I’ll keep Duncan safe for you, won’t I, DK?” Logan reaches across the table, and, with the tips of his fingers, lightly slaps Duncan’s cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary.
“Get outta here, Logan,” Duncan replies, shoving back roughly.
“Veronica MARS,” Lilly trills from the other side of the quad, halting their conversation. “Stopping teasing the boys and get over here,” she commands with a grand wave. Relieved to be rescued, Veronica slams her book and jumps up. Before she can take a step, Lilly calls again. “VeroniCA!”
“I better go see what she wants,” Veronica apologizes, her face closed and blank. Nodding mutely, Duncan rolls his eyes in exasperation.
“By all means, go see what the queen wants,” Logan snarks. “Off with you, shoo.” He flicks his fingers at Veronica, determinedly refusing to look at Lilly as she preens in hot glare of the midday sun. “Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.
“Careful, Logan,” Duncan chimes in. “She won’t take you back if you’re not – ”
“You’re gonna get back together,” Veronica hurries to assure Logan, her eyes darting back and forth between Lilly and her crowd of sophomores, and Logan and Duncan and their table of freshman elite. “I – I know you will. I’ll see you later.” She bends, shyly brushing her lips over Duncan’s temple.
“See ya,” Duncan agrees wistfully, watching as she scurries away.
“C’mere, Veronica,” Lilly repeats, reaching for Veronica’s arm and pulling her to stand at her hip. “What’s up with you and the doofus?”
“Huh?” Veronica stares at Lilly with a puzzled, guilty look. “Nothing, Lil. Duncan’s fine, we’re fine.”
“Not Donut. Logan, my bereaved ex. I saw the way you were glaring at each other. Did something happen? Did he – he wouldn’t dare say anything bad about me – he didn’t, did he?”
Veronica opens her mouth to reply, snaps it shut, opens it again and says, “No, Lil. He’d never. Logan ... loves you. ... You know that, right?” Veronica’s forehead creases, her face the image of concern and worry.
“Duh! Of course he does. Who doesn’t?” she giggles, tossing a sheaf of blond over her shoulder as she pivots to face the half-circle of guys surrounding them. “Casey loves me, dontcha, Case?” she prompts with an inviting smile. Winking, Casey Gant cocks his finger and “shoots” Lilly, grinning broadly until he remembers Logan and Duncan are likely watching.
Nervously, he glances around before leaning in to ask, “So, Lil, now you’re a free woman and all, go out with me tomorrow night?”
Running an appraising glance up and down Casey’s bod, Lilly shrugs. “Sorry, Case,” she banters insincerely, “but I already have plans for Friday night." Nudging Veronica, she stage-whispers, “What kind of guy waits until Thursday to ask a girl out? Maybe next week,” she adds, turning back to Casey. Poker-faced and stoic, Casey nods.
“O-kay. If that’s the way you want it. I guess I’ll wait until Monday and see if you’re still a free woman, huh?”
“Fine,” Lilly snaps peevishly. “But don’t wait too long, my dance card fills up quick, ya know? C’mon, Veronica,” she continues, linking arms. “Go with me to the library so I can check out Anaïs Nin – I have a book report due tomorrow.”
Blushing, Veronica allows Lilly to pull her into the dark, cool corridor before shaking free. “What was that about, Lilly? You’re not really gonna go out with Casey Gant, are you? His reputation is worse than – ”
“Veronica, Veronica. Sweet, simple Veronica.” They stop in the hall, facing each other. Reaching over, Lilly tucks an errant wisp of hair behind the other girl’s ear and smooths it back. “You know, if I weren’t going to take him back once he grovels, I’d say you should go out with Logan. I mean, I know you wouldn’t, what with you and Donut being virgins and all, and just perfect for each other, but, really, Veronica, one of these days, the two of you are gonna have to get over yourselves and just have sex. It’s fun, Veronica. You’ll really like it, assuming Donut knows what to do.” Lilly rolls her eyes. “That’s why Logan’s so great,” she shimmies exaggeratedly. “He’s wild, Veronica. He’ll do anything.” Batting her eyes dramatically, Lilly begins to shake again, this time with laughter.
For the rest of the day, Veronica can’t concentrate, her best friend’s words swirling in her brain. She’s walking to Lilly’s shiny new BMW when Logan and Duncan swoop down on her, Duncan snatching her bookbag from her right shoulder, while Logan, coming in from left, tugs her ponytail. Startled, she yelps, her elbow catching Logan in the ribs as she flails.
“Wow, Mars,” he snarls, rubbing his chest. “Jumpy today, aren’t we?”
As she stares at Logan, mouth agape, horrified she may have hurt him, Duncan takes her hand in his.
“Pay no attention to him, Veronica. I’m happy to see you.” Tilting down, Duncan plants a chaste kiss on her lips.
“Hey! I’m happy to see her, too. Where’s my 'hello' face-suck?” Logan teases. When Veronica looks up, however, the glint in his eye doesn’t match his affable tone.
“Get your own girl, Echolls. This one’s mine.” Duncan curls Veronica possessively into the crook of his shoulder. Beaming, she relaxes into his side.
“No pro-blemo, chief. But hey, next time, don’t ask me to share with you.”
“That’s fine, Logan. I don’t want to kiss my sister anyway.”
“Who said anything about your sister?”
“Did I hear someone mention my name?” Lilly inquires grandly as she strolls up to the threesome.
“Hey, Lil.” Veronica’s eyes sparkle as she watches Logan squirm.
“Um, no. We didn’t mention her name, did we, Logan?”
Toeing the ground, Logan mumbles, “No, I don’t think we did.”
“Well, fine! I can see I have work to do here.” Unlocking the driver’s door, Lilly asks, “Okay, party people, where’re we going?”
“The beach,” Duncan and Logan chorus.
“Home,” Veronica replies firmly.
“Veronica Mars!” Lilly exclaims. “You can’t leave me alone with these two. You simply have to come with us.”
“Call your mom, Veronica,” Duncan says gently. “I’m sure she’ll let you go.”
Veronica’s torn between the urge to enjoy the glorious, late spring afternoon at the beach with her friends, and the revulsion she feels remembering the image of the boys she's locked in a box in the back of her mind. Even as she remembers, she steps away and pretends to call home. Holding the phone to her ear, she watches surreptitiously as Duncan and Logan feint and jab, circling each other with mock ferocity.
Rolling her eyes at them, Lilly shoots Veronica a look and makes the universal “hurry up” sign with her hand. Dropping her phone into her purse, Veronica raises her thumb.
“Alright, Veronica,” Lilly applauds. “Let’s go, boys.”
Everyone piles in as Lilly starts up and pushes the button to lower the convertible top. Gunning the engine, she leaves the parking lot in a spray of stone and gravel. Detouring only to the Kane house to pick up boards, suits, and refreshments, they are at the beach in no time.
Whooping and hollering, Duncan and Logan race into the surf. Lilly and Veronica spread blankets and prepare to sun themselves. Oiling each other’s backs, they ignore the commotion and settle in. Veronica closes her eyes with a heavy sigh, her mind drifting. The cawing gulls and rhythmic wash of the waves soothe her, lulling her to sleep like a lullaby.
She wakes to a low-pitched murmur in her ear, and the cool sensation of sea water dribbling down her belly. “Wha – cut it out, Lil,” she mumbles, annoyed.
“Wake up, Ver-on-ica,” Logan sing-songs, looming over her, a cup of water in hand.
“Huh?” She sits up with alacrity, her arms reflexively winding around her bare midriff. “Lo – Logan. Wha – where’s Lilly?” She glances around the beach and out to the surf. “And Duncan? Where are they?” Hearing the shrill of her voice makes Veronica wince, but she can’t control her frisson of fear at the idea of being alone with Logan, even on a public beach.
“They went to get burgers and ice cream. They’ll be back in a minute.”
“But – why? – we have sandwiches in the cooler.”
Arching one elegant brow, Logan shrugs, folding his long legs and sitting down beside her semi-recumbent figure. “Lilly wanted a cheeseburger, and you know how she is when she wants something.”
Scrambling backward, Veronica grabs her shirt and yanks it over her head. As it clears her face, Logan absently pats her hair into place, tucking a strand behind her ear in an unconscious imitation of Lilly’s gesture at school. Without thinking about it, Veronica slaps him away. “Don’t touch me,” she blurts.
“What’s up with you today?” he says in his best patient-and-placating voice. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, uh ... nope. Why would I be mad at you?” Her azure eyes are wide and guileless as she lies to him.
Shoving his fist into the sand at her hip, he angles forward so his mouth is inches from hers. “Because you saw your rosy-cheeked boyfriend blow me yesterday?” he drawls.
Aghast, Veronica’s lips form an ‘O’ before she covers her mouth with her hand. “You ... you saw me?” she mumbles through her fingers. “I – I ... you and ... Duncan.... What were you doing, Logan? Are you and Duncan – ” She stops, unable to finish the sentence.
“Are we what, Veronica? Gay? Is that what you think you saw?”
Speechless, she bobs her head, unwilling to make it worse by saying anything else. Logan’s jaw clenches, his soft molasses eyes turning hard and stony as he cocks his head to peer up at her.
“Relax, Veronica. You know boys will be boys. We were just having a little fun. You have nothing to worry, I assure you.”
“But ... you were ... I saw you....”
“It was just a little oral sex,” he purrs, his knuckles tracing a path down her bare arm. Her expression is earnest, but there’s a gleam of a slightly different sort in her effervescent eyes. “You and Duncan haven’t...?”
She shakes her head tightly, lips pursed in a thin, tense line. He nods once, watching her face. Beneath his fingers, he can feel a slight tremble, and there are goose-bumps despite the golden warmth of the late afternoon sun.
“No,” she whispers, hesitant and ashamed. “He wouldn’t ... I don’t....” Her hands twist in her lap. “I don’t think I’m ... experienced enough for Duncan.”
Logan chuckles, the sound rumbling deep and throaty in his chest. “I don’t think Duncan expects you to be ... proficient at sex. He knows you’ve never – he knows he’s your first real boyfriend.”
“But ... I don’t see what that has to do with the way he was ... touching you.”
“Veronica Mars.” He throws his head back and lets loose a loud guffaw. “Now I get it. You’re upset because he was touching me and not you? Is that it, Mars?”
She doesn’t admit it, but her face gives her away. He’s about to say something when he recognizes the happy chatter of his ex and her brother echoing over the sand.
“Call me tonight, Veronica.” He winks. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”
“Who wants a chocolate shake? I know you do, don’t you Veronica?”
Relaxing her hands, finally, Veronica scrambles to her feet and jogs over to meet Lilly and Duncan, unaware of Logan watching intently.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She’s almost asleep when her cell buzzes. It’s eleven-thirty. “He – hello?”
“Veronica,” he croons in her ear.
“Uh huh. Yeah.”
“I told you to call me.”
“Logan?”
“Yeah. Who were you expecting?”
“No one. It’s late, Logan.”
“And you were supposed to call me.”
“I – I don’t think I want to talk about it any more.”
“I think you do.”
“No, I don’t. Not tonight. It’s late, and we have school tomorrow. I’m going to sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Don’t forget about tomorrow night.”
“What’s tomorrow night?”
“You remember, Mars. The Kane family is appearing at a function at Torrey Pines, and Duncan and Lil have to be there. You and I were going to hang out and watch movies?”
“Um ... yeah. I forgot. I’ll have to check with my mom.”
“I get it. Nevermind. I should have known you’d punk out on me. Just stay home and study. It’s what you do best, right? Good night, Veronica. Sleep well.” He hangs up before she has a chance to reply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wiggling into his gentle embrace, she closes her eyes as he inclines his head toward her. His warm lips close over hers, his tongue tickling the crease of her mouth until she smiles, opening to admit him. Sighing happily, she settles back against the pillow, snug and protected in his arms. His hand whispers up and down her arms as their kiss deepens.
“Veronica,” he breathes quietly, sea-blue eyes inspecting her face. He kisses her cheekbone and nuzzles into the downy hair behind her ear. “Can I ....”
“Mmmhmm,” she murmurs.
Delicately, he slides his fingers beneath her slip-of-a-tee shirt and raises it, drawing aimless patterns on her sensitive skin before tracing circles over the plump swell of her breast. Inhaling languidly, she whimpers once, fingers pressing into his shoulder. His mouth finds her smooth, pale neck. He licks, then sinks his teeth into her flesh in a harsh, amorous bite. Gasping in surprise, her head rolls back, chin to the ceiling, as he defines the slender column of her throat with heavy, sucking kisses, devouring her.
He sweeps the flat of his thumb over her peaked nipple. As she arches into his grasp, he palms her breast roughly, crooning her name. Excitement builds and she begins to quiver, the heat of his mouth and the motion of his hands sending a sharp tingle through her body. She moans aloud when his mouth descends to her taut, pink bud, nipping and licking. Flushed and damp, her skins is on fire as the tight knot in her belly becomes a burning sensation between her legs, shock waves effusing from her core.
“Oh, God,” she groans, fingers clenching in his thick, dark hair.
“Sweet Ronnie,” he mumbles. “You’re so hot.”
Heart pounding, she blinks. “Oh, God ... Logan?!”
Veronica bolts up, chest heaving, cell phone still clutched in her hand. Peering at its illuminated face, she realizes it’s 3:47 a.m. Logan? I was dreaming about....? Heart still racing, she pulls a pillow over her face and curls into a ball. Taking long, deep breaths, she wills herself back to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Veronica!” Keith calls from the kitchen. “Better hurry, Lilly’s waiting.”
“I know, I know.” Rolling into the kitchen, Veronica stops to buss her father’s cheek, grabbing a piece of toast as she passes. “Where’s Mom?”
“Your mother’s not feeling too well today, so she’s decided to stay in bed.”
“Oh. ... Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, just a bit under the weather. Check on her when you get home from school, okay?”
“Um ... it’s Friday, Dad.”
“Yes. Yes, it is. Do you have plans?”
“Well ... Logan and I were going to hang out at his house, maybe watch a movie.”
“Logan? ... You’re spending time with Logan?”
“Yeah, well, Duncan and Lilly have to be somewhere, and I promised him I’d keep him company.”
“Okay, well, that’s fine. Just call when you’re ready to come home. I don’t want you driving with him.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I will.” The annoyed shrill of an automobile horn pierces the air. “Okay, gotta go, Pops. See you later.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, okay,” Veronica calls, skipping down the walk to Lilly’s idling car.
“C’mon, Veronica. I’ve got places to go and men to do.”
Nice, Lil - make sure Logan can hear you. Veronica skids to a stop at the passenger door. Duncan is in the front, next to Lilly, and Logan’s in the back seat. Usually, Duncan and Logan sit together in the back.
“Hey, Veronica,” Duncan smiles, getting out and holding the door for her.
“Backseat?” she asks, surprise evident in her voice.
Patting the leather next to him, Logan looks up, his scowl fading. “C’mon in. I promise not to bite.”
Laughing, Lilly barks, “Riiight. As if Veronica would ever let you touch her, anyway, Echolls.”
“Shut up, Lilly,” Logan and Duncan chorus. Veronica climbs docilely into the back, setting her bookbag down between her and Logan. Arching an eyebrow, he stares inquisitively at her, his bright eyes carefully assessing her stiff, awkward body language.
As she flies through Neptune, easily doubling the speed limit for residential streets, Lilly pops in Pink’s latest, moving to the beat, “Let’s get it started....”
Talking beneath the heavy base throb, Logan leans over. “So ...ready to spend the night with me?” Cutting her deer-in-the-headlights eyes at him, she nods slowly, swallowing and shifting uneasily in her seat.
“Does Lilly know?”
He smirks, shakes his head. “Nope. A– ” he holds up his thumb, “it’s none of her business. B – ” He raises his index finger, “we’re not together, so it’s none of her business. And, C – ” He elevates his middle finger, “there’s nothing to tell her, is there, Veronica?”
She shrugs hesitantly. “Nu – no. Not really ... I guess.”
“You didn’t tell Duncan, did you?”
Flinching at the mention of Duncan, she stammers, “Ne, no, I didn’t. I – I barely talked to Duncan since ... since the other day, when you guys ....”
Putting his finger to his lips, Logan shushes her. “Not to worry, Veronica, we’ll talk about it tonight. I’ll meet you up in the front quad at three-thirty, okay? My mom’s picking us up.” Satisfied with her ambivalent assent, he sits back in his seat, closing his eyes to Lilly’s crazed driving.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flinging open the ornate door, Logan turns, waves to his mother, and ushers Veronica inside. “Let’s go to the pool house so I can kick your ass at Grand Turismo, huh?” He winks and grins. “Relax, Mars.” He cracks his knuckles. “We’ll talk later, after I’ve demolished you a few times, and have you at my mercy.”
Sapphire eyes twinkling, she rejoins, “I’m not that easy, Logan. If you think you – ”
“Save it, Veronica. I know you’re stronger than your cute little body would suggest.” He smirks, giving her petite form the once-over. “But I’m banking on my skill and superior reflexes to bring you to your knees.”
“Lo-gan!” she blushes furiously, smacking his arm.
Leading her out back, to the pool house, he takes her bookbag from her shoulder and casually tosses it on a chair. “What’s your poison?” he asks from behind the bar.
“S’kist, if you have it.”
“We have everything,” he grandly assures her, pitching a cold can in a high, soft arc. “You don’t mind if I have something stronger, do you?” he inquires, bending to rummage through the half-empty bottles stored below.
“I don’t mind, but your mother might.” Popping the tab, she sips daintily.
“Never fear, ‘Ronica, she’s out for the evening. She’s meeting dear old Dad in LA, they won’t be home until Sunday,” he snaps. Bottle in hand, he pours a generous serving of vodka into a cut-crystal rock glass, topping it with Seven-Up and a fistful of ice cubes. “Okay.” He rubs his hands together. “What are we drinking to? ... Oh, that’s right, our absent partners. To Lilly the bitch, and Duncan, the – ”
“Logan,” she chides in her best schoolmarm voice. “That’s not nice.”
“I’m not really a nice guy, Veronica, or hadn’t you noticed?”
“That’s not true,” she protests loyally. Raising his glass, he slugs half of it in a single gulp, quirking his brow as he swallows. “Logan?” Her voice is calm, compassionate. “You miss Lilly, don’t you?”
“We’re not here to talk about me and Lilly, so let’s don’t.” Saying nothing, she tilts her head, studying him with a clear, serene gaze. His sham smile dissolves under her scrutiny, and he bows, chin to chest.
“Is that why you ... and Duncan ... because you were mad at Lilly?”
Glaring up from under his unruly, spiked locks, he shakes his head angrily. “No. No, that’s not – leave it alone, Veronica. You wouldn’t understand.” Draining his glass with defiance, he dumps another two ounces of vodka in his tumbler, this time adding just ice. “Sure you don’t want some?” He waggles the bottle with a grimace.
Glancing slowly from his foreboding face to the bottle and back, she nods curtly. He jerks upright, surprised, and shoots her a questioning look.
“A little, about half of what you have, in a glass with ice, please.”
A leer quirks the corner of his mouth. “Veronica Mars,” he drawls. “Shock-er.”
Ignoring the implied taunt, she simply stares, eyes trained on his until he measures a single shot into an identical crystal rock glass and fills it with ice. “Here.” He thrusts it at her and waits. Switching her S’kist into her left hand, she accepts the glass, topping it off with a dollop of orange soda. They touch glasses with a clink, the sound ringing in the silent room.
“‘Sláinte.” He assesses his glass before downing a third in a single draught.
“Uh huh,” she sips her concoction, wincing at the burn.
Logan’s face brightens; he guides her to the fifty-four inch screen and flops at her feet. “C’mon down, Mars,” he commands gaily. “Let’s see what you’re really made of.” Veronica sinks gracefully to the floor, tugging primly at her skirt as she sits. Taking her drink out of her hand, he hands her a controller. “Ready?”
The game begins with a screech and a crash. For the next ninety minutes, the two relax, completely mesmerized as they sit, side-by-side, jostling shoulders and trading insults as they laugh and pilot their “race cars” through sharp turns and tunnels, yelling and groaning at each sideswipe and wipeout. Finally, with the score nearly even – despite his best efforts, Logan is only slightly ahead – Veronica calls for a fuel and nourishment time out. Logan suggests pizza, and she immediately agrees.
“What do you want on it, Veronica?” He waits, cell in hand, fingers twitching.
“Cheese.”
“That’s it? Just cheese?” His eyes narrow, sensing a fight.
“Veggies?”
Sighing theatrically, he shrugs. “What kind?”
“Whatever you like, Logan.”
“Well,” he scowls. “I don’t particularly like vegetables, so ... tell me what you want.”
“Broccoli, and tomatoes.”
“Anything else?”
“Extra cheese?” she prompts with a hopeful grin.
“You have been hanging around with Duncan too much,” he sighs with an exaggerated wince, dialing the phone.
“What?” She freezes, bites her lip and looks away. “What did you say?” Her tone is dull, her voice constricted.
“You’ve been....” Seeing her pained look, he halts. Realizing, with a start, Giordano’s is on the line, he gives the order, watching distractedly as Veronica wanders to the French doors and stares out at the pool, arms wrapped around her waist.
She turns, when he hangs up, starts to speak, closes her mouth and pivots away. In a tiny voice, head down, she asks, “Were you ... was Duncan ....”
“Spit it out. Spill.” Despite his gruff words, his voice is gentle.
“Is Duncan ... he’s just not attracted to me, is he?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true, Mars.”
“But, I don’t ... satisfy him, do I? That’s why you ... he ....”
“It’s not that. Not exactly. Um ... you don’t know much about guys, do ya?”
“I know enough,” she insists hotly. “I know you’re supposed to want to touch your ... the girl you’re dating ....”
“What makes you think he doesn’t want to touch you?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s never gotten down on his knees in front of me, Logan.” She blushes. “He’s never even touched me ....” her fingers flutter around her chest. “He’s never even tried,” she finishes, obviously ashamed.
Striding over to where Veronica is trying to melt into the plate glass window, Logan plucks awkwardly at her tee shirt. “C’mere. Let’s sit down and talk about it. Don’t be embarrassed, it’s okay.”
Leading her back to the end of the bed, where they’d been playing Grand Turismo 3, Logan sinks to the floor and crosses his gangly legs. Veronica squats uneasily on her heels until Logan jerks her arm and she topples over. Righting herself, she folds her legs in imitation of Logan, they face each other, knees almost touching.
“Trust me?”
She stirs, anxiety playing across her face. He waits. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I know you and Duncan have kissed,” he looks for affirmation, and she nods, mute, “but what else have you done?”
Unbidden, her hands twist in her lap, spelling out her reluctance to answer. She’s fixating on the carpet. “We ... um, make out....”
“You mean, like in the backseat, and you lay on Duncan, or sit on his lap?”
“Yeah, you know, make out....”
Logan flashes a lascivious grin. “Yes, Ronnie, I know how to make out. What I’m trying to find out is – when you and Duncan are making out – what does he do with his hands?”
“His hands?” Abruptly, she raises her head, gazes at Logan in confusion. “He usually ... has ... his arms around me....” Obviously ashamed, she ducks her head, her long blond hair spilling over her shoulders, curtaining her flushed face.
Deliberately, Logan leans in, lifting her chin with two fingers. “Veronica,” he sighs her name indulgently. “Does he kiss you ... here?” his fingers slip softly down the curve of her throat. Shivering, she shakes her head. Tucking under her jaw, he whispers, “Like this?” and presses his lips to her downy skin.
Gasping, her reflexes take over and she tilts her head back to permit him access. His tongue caresses her pale neck, she stammers, “Waa – what are you doing, Logan?”
“This is how to kiss a woman,” he mumbles, his voice vibrating against her. Reaching down, she cups his cheeks in her small hands.
“Stop,” she pleads, tugging at his head. Quickly sitting up, he curls his angular, slender hands over hers, loosely trapping them in his lap.
“Does Duncan kiss you like that?” he challenges, his chocolate eyes smoldering. Her head whips from side to side. “Does he use his tongue, at least?” Logan continues, his thumbs sweeping erotic patterns across her wrists.
Veronica blanches, stammers, “Ye – yes.”
“And how does it make you feel, when Duncan – when he puts his tongue in your mouth?”
Like a guppy, her mouth opens and closes. “Whaa – what do you mean? It – it feels like a kiss.”
Bemused, Logan settles her hand on his ankle and strains for her psuedo-cocktail of S’kist and vodka, handing it to her. “You look like you could use a drink.” He waits patiently while she takes a mouthful, gulps it down, before continuing, “But how does it make you feel? Do you feel it here,” his hand grazes her ribcage, “or there?” He directs his gaze to the apex of her thighs, where the merest glimpse of pink cotton can be seen. Veronica immediately pushes her skirt between her legs.
“Logan!” she protests, trying to pull away. He tightens his grip on her wrist.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just – you should feel it everywhere when he kisses you.” His smoky eyes are glowing. “Can I – do you want me to kiss you properly, Veronica? So you’ll know what it’s supposed to be?”
“Nu, no?” she quavers, breathless and unconvincing.
Keeping her right hand in his left, he rubs her shoulder with his other hand. “Just one,” he soothes, angling his head so his lips rest on the line of her jaw, just below her mouth. He kisses the ridge of her chin under her waiting mouth. She lowers her head and he covers her lips with his, breathes into her mouth. He cradles her neck in his hand, his tongue probes, warm and moist against hers. She melts into him, squeezing his fingers as she kisses him back. Their tongues dance. Smiling, he releases her, straightens his back, looks into her dazed eyes. Her lips are slick, her cheeks vivid.
Dropping his voice, he scoots closer and asks, “Has he ever touched ... your breasts?”
Shocked, she screws her eyes closed, her breath coming faster. “I told you he hasn’t, and I want to know why.”
“Maybe,” Logan muses, “he’s too much of a gentleman. Maybe,” Logan shifts closer, one knee sliding between hers, mere inches separate their bodies. “You need to tell him it’s okay for him to touch you like this.” His caressing fingers glide lower, wandering over her clavicle, brushing against her peaked nipples. “D’you like that?”
Quivering under his touch, she denies the pleasure her body so obviously feels. “Don’t....” her voices hitches. Feebly, she pushes his hand away. Captivated by her arousal, Logan thrums across her nipple again.
“I’m not so much a gentleman,” he reminds her, palming the sweet curve of her breast, stroking tenderly. He shoots her a look from under his brow, eyes sparking as he dares her to dissent. Trembling, her eyes silently plead for compassion; she pants quietly, her fluttering lashes the only other tell. He joins their lips, licking into her mouth with confidence.
Pulling away, she shudders, muttering, “I thought I could trust you?”
Sighing, he runs his fingers up her throat and pinches her chin. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He kisses her nose. “You’re just ... how the hell does Duncan keep his hands off you, Veronica?”
She shrugs, his hand still clutched in hers. Sliding to the floor, he stretches out and curls up beside her, head in hand, face at her hip. Bringing her hand to his mouth, he touches his lips to her knuckles. When the corners of her mouth twitch, he grins triumphantly. “That’s better.”
“Okay, okay, Logan, I get it. Duncan isn’t ... passionate, not with me, not like you are. But, is it because he doesn’t like me ... doesn’t like ... girls, or what? He looked like he was ... enjoying himself before, when he was – when you two....”
“Do you want me to tell you what I know about Duncan?” Logan asks slyly, his eyes trained on her troubled but radiant face. At her nod, he takes a deep breath, pondering his words. “Despite his father’s expectations, Duncan Kane isn’t a leader, not really,” Logan begins, absently tracing errant lines up and down Veronica’s thigh. “He’d rather ... be told what to do than have to think for himself.”
Shivering at his touch, Veronica tries not to fidget. “But – he always seems like he’s so in control,” she argues.
“Veronica,” Logan leans nearer, his breath hot on her skin. “Do you know how long it took me to get your boy on his knees?”
“No,” she bleats, following with a flippant, “do I want to?”
“Listen up, you might learn something about your precious boyfriend.” Surprised by his vehemence, she blinks. “Wednesday afternoon, at his house, we’re playing Grand Theft Auto, bashing the shit out of each other. By the time I kicked his ass for the seventh time, I had gotten a little ... excited. I told him I was horny, and he was like, ‘yeah, so what? Join the club.’ I knew he wasn’t get any either, so I unzipped and pulled out my dick. I put his hand on it.”
Logan wiggles closer, resting his head on her leg, his busy fingers slipping between her legs to stroke her inner thigh. She gasps sharply, but says nothing. “I told him, ‘this is what men do, they take care of their friends, so give me a hand here, bud.’ He looked at me with those big blue eyes...” Logan looks up to see Veronica’s cerulean eyes dilate, her mouth gaping as she blushes furiously. “I told him to get on the floor and open his mouth.”
“Oh, God,” she croaks, her fingers opening and closing reflexively. “Did he....”
“Like he’d been doing it all his life.” Logan brushes two fingers against her sensible, fuchsia panties; he can feel dampness through the thin fabric. “He didn’t even argue, just took me in his hot mouth and sucked me off....”
She sways, dizzy, unable to look at him. “And when I came,” he strokes a little harder against her crease – for emphasis, “he swallowed, like the good little boy he is.”
“Oh, no,” she shakes, off-balance and teetering. Reaching up, he drapes a hand on her arm, guiding her down to the plush carpeting, repositioning so their bodies are nearly aligned, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, he insinuates his knee between hers, wraps her leg over his hip.
“And then,” he tilts until his forehead rests against hers. “I kissed him. He’s not quite as good as his sister, but he’s a pretty good kisser, ‘Ronica. I don’t know why he doesn’t work for you.”
Anger flashes in her eyes. “I didn’t say he didn’t do it for me, Logan. I said I don’t do it for him.” He’s so close she can see the faint spattering of freckles on his face.
“Ahhh. There you go. Maybe it isn’t just him. Maybe it’s you, too. Maybe you don’t know what you want, or maybe you don’t know how to tell him what you want.”
“How do I – how did you tell him you wanted him to....”
“Go ahead, you can say it.” He studies the bridge of her nose, waiting. “I wanted him to – what did I want, Veronica?” he murmurs, enjoying the war taking place in her head, behind her guileless periwinkle eyes.
“You wanted him to ... to give you ... oral sex.”
Logan rears back, emits a loud bark of laughter, shakes his head. “Oral sex? - it’s called a blow job, Ronnie.”
“Okay, alright, a blow job. Happy? So, how did you tell him you wanted one?”
“It’s different for two guys. I just took his hand, like this,” he takes her hand, “and put it on my dick.” He presses her hand to his belly, slides it down to the bulge in his jeans. “He’s a guy; he knew what to do.” Glossy pink lips forming a perfect “O” she looks at him, speechless.
“And I knew what to do to make him happy, too. I laid him back on my bed, took out his cock – when he’s hard, it’s pretty big, by the way – and I took him in my hands, stroked him up and down until he was good and ready, and, when he was just about to come, licked him from his balls to his head. I took him in my mouth, ran my tongue around the ridge just under the tip, tugged his balls, and he practically erupted.”
As she listens, color mounting in her cheeks, Veronica has been unconsciously rubbing herself against Logan’s knee, her palm sweeping up and down his length, hidden beneath the rough denim of his jeans. Sensing her rising ardor, he continues.
“But it’s different for girls. They don’t always come so fast, and you have to be much gentler.” Leaving her hand on his crotch, he slips his hand underneath her tee shirt, strumming her stomach. “Like this.”
Eyes fixed on hers, his fingers climb up her ribs to sweep over her pert breasts. Thumbing her nipple through the delicate fabric of her bra, he watches her eyes roll back. Hips rocking against him, she hisses, her hands curling into his shirt. She shudders, desperately craving contact, friction, release. Rolling her onto her back, he moves into the curve of her hip and brings his hands to the hem of her tee.
“Please?” he asks softly. He swears he sees her nod in reply, so he pulls the shirt to her neck, tugging her arms out of the long sleeves before yanking it over her head.
“Oh, God,” she moans, trying to cover herself with her tiny hands.
“Hey,” he quietly objects. “Don’t be like that, you’re beautiful, and you have beautiful breasts.” Prying her hands away, he nuzzles one, and then the other, blowing moist, warm air over them. Inhaling, he smells the unique scent of Veronica Mars, sweet and clean with a hint of spice. “I have to taste you,” he tells her, reaching behind to unhook her bra.
Nestled in his arms, she’s dazed and overwrought, pliant and acquiescent to his intentions. Stealing the straps down her arms, he carefully pulls off her undergarment, bending to tease her nipples with his broad, slick tongue. Writhing, she arches into his mouth. “Oh, God. Please,” she sighs brokenly.
Working her with his lips, tongue, and teeth, his hands cradle her, spanning the space below her breast. As she gasps, trembling and flushed, he smooths a hand down her belly, slipping under her skirt, beyond her panties and into her tawny thatch. Beyond sense or caring, she mumbles his name, pleading for ... she doesn’t know what.
He dips a finger into her slippery folds; she cries out, begs him to kiss her. Releasing her nipple with a ‘pop’, he rises and smothers her mouth, the action of his fingers between her legs relentless, determined. She plucks at his shirt again and again until, suddenly, he realizes she wants him to take it off. Easing back, he whispers, “Stay right where you are.”
She nods blankly, wincing slightly as he cautiously removes his hand from her pussy. Like lightening, he jerks his shirt off. Hands momentarily free, he spreads her knees and crooks his leg over hers, leaving her open and exposed. Wrapping one hand around the back of her neck, he leans over and kisses her, licking into her willing mouth.
Her fingers circle his bicep; she tugs him onto her, groaning as their skin collides.
“Logan,” she prays with a hoarse voice, “let me touch you, please.”
Looming above her, staring intently into her lust-glazed eyes, he nods, massages her neck. “In a minute, baby. You’re so close. Let me do this for you first, okay?”
Shoving aside the damp material separating him from her heat, he swipes two fingers around her clit, watching in satisfaction as she quakes, her body vibrating with desire. “It’s all good,” he murmurs, pressing lips to her forehead, cheek, and jaw. “Just let go, Veronica,” he lovingly instructs, his fingers dancing over her slick flesh.
Arched like a bow string, her body comes off the floor when he inserts his middle finger into her tight, virgin pussy. “That’s my girl,” he coaches, rubbing her clit with his thumb.
“Oh, God, oh my God,” she rasps, hips pumping against his hand. Spreading her wider, he plunges two fingers deep, repeatedly sliding them in and out, stretching her as she breaks apart, keening his name. Curving his hand to hit the spot, he takes her over the edge, his guttural shouts blending with her plaintive cries.
When, at last, he feels her stiffen and release, he lowers on top of her, pressing his knee to her pussy and rolling so she comes to rest on his broad, muscular chest. Gasping for air, she hides in the crook of his neck. Soothing her, he rocks her like a baby, gentling her down from what is undoubtedly her first real orgasm – at least her first not-self-induced orgasm.
Just as her breathing comes more even, and her body stills, her messy blonde head pops up from his shoulder. “Now? Can I ... touch you now?”
His gaze is sober. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m good, I can take care of – ”
“I want to,” she confesses shyly. “But I don’t know if I can – ”
“You don’t have to,” he assures her, aimlessly running his hand through her golden tresses. He slides her off and tucks her into his side. Eager but hesitant, she puts her hand on his fly, looks to him for conformation. He nods, an amused smile playing over his lips.
Happily popping the snap, she guides the zipper down and pulls it open. With superhuman restraint, he waits as she moves lower, peeling his jeans off his hips and down his long, lithe legs. Hands back at his waist, she pauses uncertainly. He can read her puzzlement, and reaches down to shimmy out of his boxers, quickly kicking them away. Rising from the dark tangle of his pubis, his cock is purplish-ruddy and fully erect. He tugs it once, rubs his thumb over the moist tip.
“Should I – what do you want, um, what – ”
“Just touch me.” He puts his hand over hers, and wraps it around the ridge just under the head. “Like this.” With gentle pressure, he slides her hand up and down his smooth, throbbing skin. Quickly grasping the idea, she shrugs off his hand and, tongue between her teeth, begins to jack her hand up and down his length. Closing his eyes, he falls back, grunting in pleasure.
“Faster,” he mutters, but grimaces when she increases the speed.
“What? What’s wrong?” she asks timidly.
“It’s not – you’re too – c’mere a minute,” he says, finally. On her knees at his hip, she sidles up his side. “Gimme your hand.” He starts to lick her palm, but she pulls it back.
“Ew!”
“Your hand is too dry,” he explains drolly. Her cheeks pink. “Natural lubrication usually works,” he adds, motioning to the vee of her thighs. “Spread your legs?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow.
Shaking her head vigorously, she licks her palms and bends back, head down as she ghosts her hands over him, licks again, and smooths her spit on his dick, driving Logan wild in the process.
“Veronica,” he grits. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Smirking her apology, she fists his dick, her silky locks spilling over his groin as she begins moving up and down, varying the pressure until she hears the hitch in his throat, feels the blood rushing under her fingers. Straddling one leg, she daringly places small, wet kisses on his hipbone, quickly bringing him to climax. Groaning, he spurts, thick and creamy, into her hot little hands. “Ah, God,” he breathes, sated. “C’mere,” he demands, pulling her sweaty body up his and kissing her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She finishes applying her lipgloss just as the door bell rings. Duncan’s never late, she muses, throwing the tube in her purse. “Bye, Dad, I’m going,” she calls gaily, scurrying through the kitchen before he can interrogate her about their plans.
The night before, she’d stumbled in from Logan’s, body buzzing and brain whirling. It took two and a half hours to calm down enough to sleep, her head filled with images: Logan’s plump, generous lips descending on hers, his bewitching, midnight eyes boring holes in her face, his face contorting in pleasure when she touched him ... there. She felt like she’d just been given the secret to the universe, and now that she knew what it – sex – was all about, she was determined to see if she and Duncan....
“Make sure you have your keys, honey. I’m working late shift tonight, and your mother ... your mother might not be awake when you get home,” Keith answers from the living room.
“I got ‘em,” she hollers, slamming the door behind. Keyring jingling from her fingers, she skips down the walk to the Kane SUV. Hopping out of the front seat, Duncan kisses her cheek and squeezes her shoulder. “Don’t worry, my dad’s gonna drop us off at the boardwalk,” he confides, opening the back door and holding out his hand to help her climb in.
They eat at a little place on the Pier. After dinner, elbows on the table, they hold hands and watch as the sun glows rosy gold, painting the sky peach and purple before it slips below the horizon. Suggesting a walk on the beach, Duncan rises and possessively takes her hand in his. Happily acquiescing, she kicks off her heels when they hit the sand, squishing her toes in its damp coarseness.
Determined to find out whether or not Duncan really wants to be with her, she brushes against him at every opportunity as they stroll in the twilight. He squeezes her hand tighter, nearly crushing it in his fleshy fingers; she doesn’t know if he does it in response to her or because he thinks she’s scared or something. It isn’t sexy, but she thinks maybe he’s just not a good hand-holder.
Despite his lack of èlan, she’s excited to be close to him, thinking of Logan’s lessons. Remembering Logan, and the night before, makes her head swim. She knows she’ll be in the mood when – if – Duncan makes his move. They must be a mile from the Pier when, rounding a breaker, they find themselves in a sheltered cove.
Halting, Duncan jerks her to him, sending her slender body slamming into his solid one. Awkwardly embracing her, he smashes his lips so hard on hers, their teeth click when she opens her mouth. Roughly shoving his tongue inside, he pants heavily, his arms literally crushing the breath out of her in his effort to get closer.
Thrilled at his aggressiveness, she tries to show him what she wants, twining her fingers in the short hair at the back of his neck, sucking at his tongue to slow him down. Suddenly, she’s distracted, noticing his hard-on, which is stabbing her in the belly.
Placing her hands on either side of his face, she gently pulls him away, leaving him clutching her body, huffing in confusion. “Relax, Duncan,” she soothes, rubbing his arms.
“I’m sorry. Did I – are you okay?”
“I’m good. I’m fine. I just – maybe we could sit down?” She glances around, looking for a rock or something to perch on. Shrugging out of his jacket, Duncan spreads it on the sand, helps her sit. Alighting next to her, he proceeds to kiss her again, with vigor, pushing her onto her back and flattening himself on top.
Now she can feel both his erection and his belt buckle digging into her abdomen as he squirms, pressing her with the full weight of his body. Ribcage trapped under his girth, she tries to loosen up and enjoy it, the feel of his tongue in her mouth, the sensation of his hands on her arms. But, where Logan probed sinuously, firm but fluid, Duncan rams into her mouth as if the goal is to see how far down her throat he can get.
Sliding a hand between them, he presses it against her breast, squeezing and manipulating it as if it weren’t attached to her body. “Ow,” she gasps when he squishes her nipple between his fingers.
“Sorry, sorry – I’m sorry, Veronica,” he stammers, chagrined, scrambling off of her and sitting up.
Smiling bravely, she comforts him with sweet kisses to his neck and jawbone. He continues to avert his flushed face, grabbing handfuls of sand and flinging them off to the side.
“I ... I’m just ... not good at this. I haven’t dated much before you.”
“It’s okay,” she insists, wishing she could tell him about ... what she learned the day before.
He looks at his watch. “We’d better go back. My Dad’s sending the car; it’ll be here at ten-thirty.” Clambering to his feet, he holds out his hand.
Sighing inwardly, frustrated and maybe a bit angry, she holds on as he pulls her to her feet. Lacing their fingers together, they stroll back the way they came.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spinning the dial for the third time, Veronica is glaring at her locker when she hears her name. Looking up, she spies Dick Casablancas, with Logan, who smiles shyly at her from across the hall as the two walk past.
“Hey, Veronica,” he nods, giving her a covert finger wave.
“Hi, Logan,” she replies, blushing as she feels a knot of tension throb in the pit of her stomach.
Punching Dick on the shoulder, Logan spins on his heel and traipses back to her locker, leaning next to it with a smug grin. “How was your date,” he inquires slyly, his finger tracing patterns over the garish metal. Momentarily spellbound, she watches his hand, licking her lips. “That good, huh?”
“Wha – what? I’m sorry,” she ducks her head, “what did you say?”
Putting his lips to her ear, he whispers, “It was that good, huh?”
“Yeah, it really – what? Oh, my date with Duncan? It was okay.”
“Only okay? I don’t understand, because you were – ”
The bells rings, interrupting him. Wrenching her book from the bottom of the stack, she glances at the clock. “Listen, Logan, are you doing anything after school today?”
“Uh, I don’t think so. Why, whatcha need?”
“Because I – ” her eyes dart up and down the hall, “I was thinking we could hang out again today.”
He eyes her for a second, momentarily unsure of her meaning. At once, he breaks into a genuinely happy smile. “Sure thing, Veronica. It would be my pleasure. I'm sure we'll find something fun to do.”
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