Today isn't the first time that she has had sex with Logan Echolls, and if Veronica has any say in the matter then it won't be the last either. This is not a special occasion, a traumatic event, a scheduled affair or a secret getaway – there is really no particular reason or label for this little adventure. Other than – of course – the fact that he's hot and he thinks she's hot, and that seems like a pretty good reason to Veronica.
"Come back to bed."
"I have to get home, unless you want to have a face to face with my dad once he tracks my cell phone."
Logan grimaces, flopping back down amongst the sheets as Veronica busies herself pulling a comb through her hair. Once she's satisfied with the results (although she can't hide the deep blush left on her cheeks) Veronica perches on the edge of the bed, pulling the sheets away from Logan's face to leave him with one last quick kiss.
She doesn't notice Logan's hand until it curls tightly around her wrist and with a sharp tug pulls her arm out from under her – sending Veronica sprawling across the bed to land partly on top of him. He grins, one hand pushing through the hair that's fallen haphazardly across her face.
"Stay," he mumbles close to her mouth.
"Logan—I have to—go—" she is effectively cut off as his tongue tips out of his mouth, tracing the edge of hers (sipping up the plastic-y taste of newly applied lip gloss) before pushing firmly inside to press against her own tongue.
One hand hooks over his shoulder as Veronica drags her knees towards her across the mattress, letting her weight fall against his chest. Her wrist is still cradled in one of Logan's hands, his other coming up to find the bare patch of skin where Veronica's t-shirt rides up from her low-rise jeans. His palm is warm and clammy against her fresh, clean skin which is still a little damp from the shower.
As he tugs her closer Veronica suddenly realizes that although she is fully clothed again, Logan is still naked. She grins into his mouth, letting one hand trail determinedly down his chest—lower— towards his abdomen, Logan catches Veronica's hands in his, pressing her arms back into the bed as he rolls her over, his mouth finding the side of her neck. His tongue strokes up the taut skin, licking back down to the very edge of her collar bone as Veronica moans soundly. A low, pulled sound in her throat.
"Logan—"
His hands start to push up the edge of her t-shirt, lifting the cloth to try and expose the soft, blue material of her bra.
"Logan!"
He breaks away, regarding her with a frustrated look. "Huh?"
She squirms a little underneath him, trying to get her legs into a slightly less awkward position, inadvertently making their situation even more intimate as her thighs move to frame Logan's hips. "I need—" she gasps as he reflexively grinds down against her. "I need to get home—Logan—" the last word merges into a gasp as he grinds down one more time the hand wedged between them presses down—hard—through the inside seam of her jeans. She grabs his hand pulling it back up between them and Logan sighs, rolling off of her and onto his side. He waves a dismissive hand towards the door, his fingers fluttering in annoyance.
"Fine, go."
Veronica strokes a hand through his disheveled hair, smiling hopelessly as Logan kind-of-almost pouts—sulking. "I don't want to go."
He lays a hand on the top edge of her waist, not moving to reduce the half foot of space between their bodies. "Then don't."
"My dad will kill you," she edges towards him with a warm smile.
He moves closer, pulling her shirt up properly this time. "I look forward to it."
Veronica can't help but laugh, giggles tumbling from her lips before they're covered by Logan's mouth—a tongue coaxing between her teeth.
She tastes faintly of sweet and sour and she smells like shampoo as he pushes her back against the comforter, tongue stroking gently against hers. Empty Chinese food cartons still lie on the floor by the bed and the end of a bad ninja movie plays quietly in the background, long forgotten.
Veronica lets her fingers drag from Logan's neck, down his shoulder – eliciting an involuntary shiver. Her skin reacts, bristling into goose bumps against him. Logan shifts the angle of the kiss, their mouths opening wider – lazy, warm, wet – she rolls her hips up against him. One hand skims down her hairline, pushing blonde strands out of the way as he kisses down her throat and Veronica lets her legs fall open again.
Moving a knee between hers, Logan presses his thigh down against her firmly. Veronica moans in response, lifting her hips up into the friction. His hand skims her side, soothing strokes up and down as he takes drags on her lips – playful, frenetic kisses that he smiles through.
The fingers of one hand come up to brush his hairline, stroking softly over his temples – running carefully down the side of his face. Suddenly Logan rolls them over, pulling her down on top of him and Veronica squeals, breathless as he catches her lips – hands holding her hips tight against his as they fumble to the front of her jeans, grasping for the button.
She jumps a little at the forceful press of his fingertips against the skin that lies just above her panties – a thin band of tight flesh below her abdomen. A sharp intake of breath jerks Veronica's stomach back long enough for Logan's fingers to slip inside the top edge of her waistband and undo the fly.
She pushes up on her knees, gaining leverage as Logan drags the tight denim down over her hips and thighs. Veronica dips her head for a brief kiss before rolling to her side to remove the pants from her knees and ankles – Logan follows her, catching Veronica by surprise as his tongue pushes deeply into her mouth and his hands continue the task of removing her jeans for her, blindly.
As he breaks his mouth away Veronica lets her upper body fall back against the mattress, laughing against the feeling of Logan's fingers worrying the sensitive skin at the back of her legs. Once her jeans are discarded his chin comes to rest against her knee, mouth pressing down to kiss whatever skin it hits first. She shivers and he opens his mouth a little wider, running his tongue into the nook behind the joint.
Splayed fingers bat carelessly against the top of his head and Logan grins up at Veronica mercilessly, nipping lightly at the bottom of her thigh with his teeth. She pulls her back off the mattress, grabbing at Logan – dragging him up to her by the back of his neck as he laughs into her kiss. His hand moves to cup her face and they both fall to their sides clumsily, equal on the bed.
Veronica sidles even closer, pressing herself against the firm lines of his body, pressing her mouth to his – the kiss a little slower and a little deeper in contrast to the shallow tugs against her lips from before. Logan's arms wind around her, pulling Veronica closer as he rolls onto his back until she is on top of him, flush along the length of his body. Her tongue moves slowly, deliberately and Logan reaches across Veronica's back to unhook her bra, his other hand pressed tightly into her lower back, holding her against him as she shifts her hips – the friction plying a groan from his chest.
Logan's hands press down to her hips, thumbs hooking into the sides of her panties and shimmying them down her thighs as much as possible with Veronica still on top of him. Flipping them over he drags the cotton the rest of the way down, wadding up the material once it's free from her legs and chucking it somewhere over his shoulder as Veronica laughs at the sight.
Leaning down Logan blows a quick breath between her legs that makes Veronica squirm in frustration.
His fingers find her tight and slick as two push in up to the first joint, eliciting a sharp gasp from Veronica. It is followed by a low whine as he swirls the fingers—wetting them—and she pushes up, tries to get more of his hand and increase the pressure. He trails them up the inside of her labia, parting her to trace his thumb lightly—teasing—along her damp opening as a finger moves to massage firmly over her swollen clit—circling and manipulating the engorged flesh.
As the finger retracts his tongue swipes across the tender flesh—Veronica's shoulders bolt off the bed as her back arches, stomach muscles clenching at the sensation. She can feel a pulse pounding in her throat; her head pressed awkwardly back into the clammy sheets as she lifts her hips up against his tongue—writhing into the hot, wet strokes.
One of Veronica's hands finds its way down into Logan's hair—grasping and gripping—as the other snakes up behind her to grab hold of the headboard tightly. She lets out an agonizing cross between a cry and a moan that sounds so hot and yet at the same time so ridiculous that Logan stifles a giggle – the pressure of his suddenly shuddering lips and jolting breath sending shockwaves up Veronica's body. She jerks against him and Logan affords a quick glance up to her face—pale, patches of flush crawling up her cheekbones, lips broken apart as she forces ragged breaths between them.
He flicks his tongue over her clit once, twice, three times and then sucks lightly as a slow tight pressure builds, a pulling sensation moving outwards through her body from the point of contact with his mouth – straining her muscles as they break her up into a shaking, shuddering mess—sweat coating her skin. When she comes down, he's climbing up her body to plant a chaste kiss against her mouth. Veronica lies back in the bed—tingling—her hair fallen messily across her brow and eyes, chest pounding. As he tries to pull away Veronica grabs Logan's shoulders dragging him back to her for a heavy kiss.
When his hand comes up to her back Veronica feels something rough and plastic push against her back, she pulls away clocking the condom—with its pinking shear edge—in Logan's hand. He flops back on the bed, hand extended as he gestures for her to 'go for it'. Veronica grins at him coyly and grabs the small foil packet moving it quickly to her mouth, unable to get proper purchase with her sweat-slicked hands.
"Put it on like that," Logan dares, mouth open as he drags his tongue along his bottom lip in careless anticipation – eyes heavy as he gazes down at her between his legs.
Veronica looks at him over the small, silver packet she's tearing a rip into with her teeth. "What?"
"With your mouth," he clarifies, voice husky.
She cocks an eyebrow at him.
"I dare you," he shifts his hips slightly in impatience.
Her lips twist into a determined smile as she discards the foil casing, balancing the condom on the tip of his cock as she brings her mouth down. Logan pushes himself up on his elbows, watching her. He hisses as Veronica's lips close around the tip firmly, mouth dragging downwards to pull the thin covering with her, teeth—cushioned by her lips—pushing it along the length of him.
Logan moans in the back of his throat, letting his elbows cave as he falls back onto the bed. Veronica pulls back a little to swallow, her mouth contracting—the sight causing him to jerk beneath her. The latex flips back up a little and she frowns.
Resuming her task Veronica bobs her head back down, not to be deterred. Her teeth catch, making a slight tear down the bottom edge of the condom. As she pulls back she makes a face at her efforts and Logan—almost shaking he is wound so tight—glances down at the delay.
"That's gonna be very effective," he drawls towards the wrinkled half-on-half-off condom.
The sound he releases is tight, frustrated, a hard groan ripping out of his chest at the pressure of her hands urgently dragging the ruined rubber off his dick.
Veronica crawls to the edge of the bed, fighting with Logan's jeans to get them the right way up and retrieve another condom from the pocket.
"No more party tricks," she breathes against his hip as she slides new latex down with careful fingers.
Logan drags in a long breath as she climbs over him, knees resting either side of his hips. Veronica hovers over him, thighs straining from the position as she teases—sinking into a short, shallow thrust that makes Logan gasp, twisting her hips slightly before she takes him in with one long thrust down.
His intake of breath is shallow and Veronica takes long, slow breaths trying to calm her heartbeat as she adjusts herself on him—squirming in a way that makes Logan moan as his head tilts back a little further.
Veronica leans down to kiss along his jaw, his throat, before righting herself—sticky palms holding her up against Logan's chest as she sets a rhythmic pace. His hips rock up into hers, each thrust in time and as his hands cling to her waist—her hips—Logan's breathing is tortured and audible. The up and down, in and out, slow and steady builds a new frustration inside Veronica and she welcomes the shock sensation as Logan pulls her closer, flipping their positions so that she's underneath as he drives into her. His thrusts are more forceful, becoming irregular as she scrapes nails down his spine, head rocking back with each plunge.
Logan pulls her legs up; pushing them back towards her to deepen the penetration knocking a hard moan from Veronica. She feels a tight, white-hot pulsing spread through her body right before he lets out a strangled groan—breaking down over her. Logan thrusts shallowly a few more times, his muscles easing out, arms shaking before he collapses over her—face pressed between her breasts for a long moment before he rolls off, discards the condom and falls back into bed. As Logan stretches out Veronica creeps up beside him, wriggling until her face is against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his arm.
"Wow…"
Logan laughs a little, his free hand tilting Veronica's face up for a quick kiss. His other hand runs the length of her arm soothingly as their breathing slows.
The sweat is starting to cool off of Veronica's skin uncomfortably by the next time she moves, Logan's chest his stirring in steady beats—up and down, up and down—and she figures he's fallen asleep.
Veronica shakes Logan's arm, murmuring into his chest, "What time is it?"
"Huh?" His eyes are still closed and the sound is more of a sleepy grunt than a real response.
Veronica shifts her face to look up at him, "What time is it?"
Logan groans, straining slightly to read the bedside clock, "Uh, eleven-thirty… ish."
She sighs, "I really need to get home, now."
"You should crash here," he mumbles against her lips, a hand running down Veronica's ribs to settle on the curve of her waist.
"I can't, you know my dad—he quests for blood."
"He's already gonna be mad," Logan reasons. "You're eighteen, I'm eighteen, what can he do?" Veronica's non-verbal 'are you kidding me' is cut off as he kisses her.
"You should," his lips press against hers, "stay," and again, "with," once more, "me."
"You have to make it difficult, don't you?" she smiles into his cheek.
"Not difficult, call your dad, say you're staying somewhere, then come back to bed."
Veronica shakes her head at him, pulling herself off the bed to retrieve the cell phone tucked into the front pocket of her jacket. She dials the familiar number and perches herself on the edge of Logan's bed, the sheet wrapped up to her chest.
"Hi, dad. Sorry I didn't call."
"Where are you, Veronica?"
"I'm staying at a friend's."
There is a pause before Keith speaks, "Put Logan on the phone."
Veronica bites her lip, feigning innocence in a vain attempt. "But he's not here."
"Veronica, put him on the phone, now."
"No..."
"Veronica—" Keith's voice holds a warning tone and she sighs grudgingly sticking out her arm towards Logan who is shooting her a quizzical look.
'What?' he mouths.
She nods to the cell, "He wants to speak to you."
"Fuck," he grumbles under his breath before adopting a much more peppy tone than he would ever normally use. "Hey, Mr. Mars."
"Logan, how are you?"
He looks to Veronica with a questioning raise of his eyebrows, squinting at her returning shrug. "Good, thanks… yourself?"
"Not so great. Veronica was supposed to be home about three hours ago."
"Really? She never told me…"
Veronica's eyes widen in disbelief as she smacks the back of her hand across his chest soundly.
"I've been in law enforcement for a long time, Logan. I know people. And if you hurt my daughter I will make sure that your life is made unbearable."
"Would be pretty hard to top it right now."
"I don't have a problem with you, Logan – but believe me it can and will get worse. Veronica's eighteen and as much as I'd like to I can't make all her decisions for her, but if you step out of line things will get a lot more unpleasant."
"I won't." He shrugs awkwardly into the phone. "She's probably the best thing about now."
Veronica squints over at Logan, carefully folding herself back down onto the bed next to him. The hint of an adoring smile colors her lips. Logan reaches out his free hand to squeeze her knee, grinning as her eyes widen and Veronica bites her lip to stop from squealing when his fingers dip round to the soft skin behind. She pulls away from him with righteous indignation.
"Probably?"
Logan has a wry smile as he mumbles, embarrassed, "Can't see you wanting to hear me gush poetic about your daughter."
Keith makes a noise that vaguely sounds like a muffled laugh.
"You tell Veronica that she'd better be back here tomorrow morning, nice and early to start her grounding. Eighteen or not."
Logan smirks.
"Sure, Mr. Mars."
"Goodnight, Logan."
"Bye."
He turns to Veronica, throwing the phone into her outstretched hand. "You're grounded."
"What?!"
"Yeah, your dad says you're grounded."
Veronica sucks in an annoyed breath. "This is so your fault."
"Can't see how," he grins gleefully.
"I wouldn't be so quick with the smugness; you're the one that won't get to see me while I'm toiling away in the office for the next week."
"Well, that sucks."
Logan shuffles over the mattress, his fingers pushing into the hair at the base of Veronica's neck, his thumb moving a slow steady pattern just under her ear. His hand slips, running her shoulder—further—hitting the top of her ribcage, his fingers catching each delicate bone on the way down as he leans over and drags his tongue across a hardened nipple.
"You are unbelievable," she croaks in disbelief. "Are you not done yet?"
"Nope," he licks across her breast. "You?"
"I could—be persuaded…" she trails off, her voice catching.
Veronica lets her head fall back as Logan works his lips up her neck—sucking the delicate flesh against his teeth and tongue. He works one spot just below her jaw into a raw bruise as Veronica gasps and moans, an alternating pitch of breathy surprise and thick, low desire.
Logan moves his mouth down her body, trailing across her breasts and stomach—Veronica's hands push some distance between them as he heads down one hip towards her legs.
"Woahh, down boy," she breathes. "I might actually explode."
"You," he leans up to press a firm peck against her mouth, leaning in only to pull away when Veronica's mouth began to push back against him, "are," he moves to her jaw before biting her chin lightly, "a spoil sport."
"Oh, like you even could right now," she grins, breathy with amusement.
Logan's returning look is not impressed and he collapses down onto his back, a clear distance between them while he sulks. Veronica sidles up, the lines of her body molding against his side, her chest pressed close against his arm. She rests her chin on his shoulder, padding coaxing kisses onto the nearest available skin while one hand lies flat on his chest moving softly in an irregular pattern—indulging in the way he feels good against her, without the pressure of performance. Soon Logan's pout starts to fade into a reluctant grin as her mouth catches the corner of his.
Eventually he turns to face her, fingers knotting lightly in her bangs. She presses her parted lips to his, and they are shaking. When she speaks it is a mumble against his mouth – difficult to separate from the kiss itself.
"Go to sleep," she slurs.
As she nestles down into the sheets Logan fits himself against her, one arm slung casually around her waist as he buries his face into the pillow.
This is not the first time that she has had sex with Logan Echolls but it is the first time she's fallen asleep with him and despite history and groundings and dusty offices with over-protective fathers, if Veronica has any say in the matter it won't be the last.
