Title: Making Waves
Pairing: Logan/Veronica
Rating: Mature
Summary: There was just something about the way he moved, his arms steady and powerful as they cut through the water, his shoulder and back muscles flexing with each stroke, that drew her in.
Notes: Written for the July 2018 VMHQ Smutathon III
The small balcony above the Hearst College swimming pool, which housed a boxing training area and a handful of treadmills, was always humid and sticky, but it was the perfect space to work out in peace. At most, there might be three or four other people using it, but usually Veronica was the only one up here. Other than the privacy it afforded, the other advantage to working out up on the balcony instead of in the main gym was that she got to watch the men's swim team training… which they did three nights a week.
She hadn't paid much attention to the swimmers at first—for the first couple weeks, she was too absorbed in letting off steam and pounding out her anger on the treadmill to really notice them, but once she'd got her issues out of her system and started to relax and enjoy the exercise, she passed the time watching the pull of their smooth, steady strokes through the water—it was almost hypnotic.
It was during week four that she noticed him.
He swam in the end lane, on the other side of the pool, and granted, she didn't have the best view from here, but there was just something about the way he moved, his arms steady and powerful as they cut through the water, his back and shoulder muscles flexing with each stroke, that drew her in. She had no idea who he was—couldn't even see his face properly, given the distance, and the fact that he always wore a swim cap and goggles—and she didn't know anything about him, other than the fact that he was a good swimmer, and that his back and arms were to die for.
What started out as a reason to work out her frustration at Adam for dumping her two months ago, and a determination to actually stick to a proper workout routine for the first time in her life, soon evolved into regular 'let's ogle Sexy Swimmer Guy and his badass muscles' sessions. It was nice, actually, to just be able to sit back (well, run upright) and appreciate the male form, without judgement, wolf-whistles, or lewd come-ons from said male form.
Veronica hadn't had much luck in the dating department in the last… well, ever, really. There had been some good times, but none of her relationships had exactly been a fairytale. Her first boyfriend had been Duncan, and… well it was no secret how that had turned out, with the whole 'I thought you were my sister' thing, not to mention whatever the hell it was that happened between them at Shelly Pomroy's party sophomore year (she was hesitant to put a label on it, but deep down she knew what it really was), then there'd been Troy (druggie loser), followed by Deputy Leo (sketchy age-difference), then of course Logan… Duncan… and Logan, again…. and finally Piz.
None of those relationships had turned out well. Not a single one. She and Piz had broken up not long after she started her FBI internship the summer after Freshman year, and she'd come back to Neptune with the determination to just take some time out for herself for a while. A large portion of that summer had been spent trying to decide whether or not to transfer to Stanford and leave Neptune behind—after all it wasn't like anything good ever seemed to happen for her in Neptune, and there was a growing list of people here that she would rather not bump into ever again—but in the end, the extortionate costs of Stanford, plus having to repeat freshman year, and also the idea of leaving her father and best friends behind, were too much to bear thinking about and so she decided to stay at Hearst.
She was halfway through her senior year now, majoring in Criminology, and the last two-and-a-half years had actually been surprisingly drama-free. She'd been working hard, helping her father out with his cases, trying to make amends to him and to everyone else for her behaviour during freshman year… and she'd barely even seen Logan at all. In fact, she wasn't even sure he was enrolled at Hearst anymore. During sophomore year, she'd seen a couple of tabloid stories about him getting into trouble with the local law enforcement for partying, drinking and taking drugs, and as tempted as she was to seek him out, to make sure he was okay, and to shake some sense into him, it wasn't her place anymore… and doing so would only lead to even more heartbreak, of that she was sure.
So she steered clear, focused on her schoolwork, and her cases, and, more recently, her boyfriend, Adam. Adam, who was in her Forensics class study group last year, who was sweet and caring, who saw right through her thinly-veiled excuses for why she couldn't date him, and who wormed his way into her heart anyway by backing off, offering up a no-pressure evening out, and letting her come to him.
She'd thought he was a good guy, and really, she supposed he was… which is why it had been such a shock when he broke up with her in the middle of the campus cafeteria without so much as a warning. One minute, they were happy and content—or so she'd thought—and the next, he was telling her 'things aren't working out', and giving her the age-old 'it's not you, it's me' line, and suddenly she was single.
It hurt, it really did, because Adam was supposed to be the guy she could count on. Their relationship was supposed to be solid and steady, with none of the fraught, whirlwind drama that had accompanied some of her previous relationships. Adam was another chance at normal, for the regular college boyfriend experience with someone who was removed from the rest of the crap that was her life. In the back of her mind, she had to wonder if he'd been cheating on her—it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination by any means; this was Neptune after all, and Veronica was a PI who had seen more of her fair share of the town's seedy underbelly—but if she was honest, she wasn't sure she really wanted to experience yet another blow to her sexual confidence. After all, they'd already broken up by then, so what did it matter?
So, she was dealing with it by pounding the treadmill a few nights a week and letting her gaze roam over the swimmers… okay, mostly over him. It was stupid, she thought to herself, she'd only been single for a few weeks; she didn't need another man in her life right now… yet, for some reason, she couldn't take her eyes off him.
She heard the sound of a sharp whistle even over the headphones blasting music in her ears, and the swimmers started getting out of the water… which meant she must have gotten here later than normal this evening—or else they were finishing up early—because they were usually still in the middle of practice when she left the gym. Tonight, though, she was afforded with the perfect view of several trim, lean bodies, as the guys exited the pool, heading for the locker rooms.
Veronica bit her lip, almost stumbling on the treadmill, when he finally emerged from the water, large biceps flexing as he easily pulled himself up onto the edge, before jumping up to standing.
God, he looks even better out of the water.
She slowed the machine to a walking pace and watched intently as he stepped up to the swim coach, his back to her, hands on his hips as he discussed something with the older man. Veronica took the moment to fully appreciate the fine male specimen below her. His shoulders were broad, his back lean and muscular, tapering down to a trim waist and a tight, pert butt, which was only emphasised by the long, skin-tight swim shorts he was wearing. Her gaze roamed lower, to the powerful-looking thighs and well-defined calves, and God, what she wouldn't give to run her hands all over them right now.
His conversation with the coach seemingly over, he reached for a water bottle, and, draping a towel over his head, he turned around to face the changing rooms.
Oh, holy… wow.
If she thought he looked good from the back, that was nothing compared to the front view. Her eyes drifted over the defined pecs and washboard stomach, flitting quickly down over his crotch to his legs and then back up again. She felt a rush of warmth low in her belly as her body responded to the visual stimulation of, let's face it, an incredibly sexy man. She frowned when he started walking, something vaguely familiar about his gait, but she couldn't place it… and she still couldn't see his face either, with the swim cap, goggles, and towel in the way.
Damn it. She swatted the treadmill handle with one hand as he disappeared from sight. Now I'm both on an adrenaline high and horny as hell.
For the next two weeks, Veronica found her thoughts turning to Sexy Swimmer Guy more often than not. When she caught herself daydreaming about him for the third time in one morning, she had to physically force herself to hole up in the library and bury her head in textbooks just to take her mind off him.
After six more gym sessions spent watching him train, imagining what he looked like completely naked, instead of concentrating on her treadmill stats, and four nights of waking up in a sweat, her body thrumming with arousal after vivid sex dreams in which he played a starring role, she realised she was going to have to do something about this obsession of hers soon, or she was going to risk both her good grades and her sanity.
A week later, she was alone up on the balcony and for some reason, he was the only one in the water, having stayed late after practice even though the pool was officially supposed to be closed. As she cooled down from her workout, her eyes remaining trained on him, she began formulating a plan. It briefly crossed her mind that said plan was completely out of character for her, but there was just something about this guy… something that made her want to throw all her reservations out of the window and just go for what she wanted.
And what she wanted was hot, steamy sex with the man currently gliding effortlessly through the water with those quick, powerful strokes of his. She wanted to run her fingers over those strong, defined muscles, to feel his body wrapped around her; she wanted to let loose for once, to take what she wanted without worrying about the consequences.
Before she could even start putting her plan into action though, it all came crashing down around her. Because Sexy Swimmer Guy chose that moment to haul himself out of the pool and turn to perch on the edge, his legs dangling in the water. Veronica took a moment to appreciate the play of muscles in his arms as he reached up to remove his goggles and swim cap.
And that was the moment when reality set in.
It was the moment she realised exactly why he seemed familiar: because she did know this man. Granted, he was almost completely unrecognisable from the last time she'd laid eyes on him unclothed, and honestly, the swim team was the last place she ever expected to see him again, but it was definitely him.
It was no wonder she hadn't put two-and-two together before now.
Because that man down there, Mr. Sexy Swimmer Guy himself, was none other than Logan Echolls.
"Holy fuck!"
The exclamation spilled from her lips involuntarily, at the same time her water bottle slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground. Logan's head shot up and Veronica was quick to duck out of sight, crouching down to grab the bottle, her heart pounding erratically.
How the hell could she have been fantasising about Logan this whole time? He was supposed to be out of her life for good. She was supposed to have moved on, gotten over him, put the past behind her. Yet here she was, having erotic fantasies about him. And oh God, now she had a frame of reference. She already knew what he looked like naked, already knew how good he was in bed, already knew him.
What she didn't know, though, was what the fuck he was doing on the swim team, and how the fuck he got that incredible body. When they'd last been together, three years ago now, he was all soft and baby-faced and, while relatively fit from surfing, he wasn't anywhere near the muscular Adonis he appeared to be now.
And, of course, the big question was: what the hell was she supposed to do now?
Two minutes ago, she'd been on the verge of sneaking into the men's locker room and jumping him in the shower, in a re-enactment of last night's fevered dream, but now… God, that was Logan down there. She couldn't be thinking about him that way. Not anymore. Not after she'd worked so hard to forget.
Still crouched on the floor, Veronica waited a few more seconds before slowly rising to a stand, her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her heart pounding in anticipation as she looked down at the pool once more.
It was empty. Thank God.
With a sigh of relief, she grabbed her towel, wiped down the treadmill and then headed quickly downstairs to the ladies' locker room. She took her time taking a shower, getting changed, applying a touch of make-up and drying her hair, all in the hope that he would be long gone before she emerged.
But of course, fate just couldn't be on her side, could it?
She didn't get more than two steps out of the locker room before she pulled up short, eyes wide and caught off-guard. There he was, right in front of her, leaning one shoulder against the wall with one ankle crossed over the other. He was dressed in sweats and a swim team hoodie—typical jock attire—which was as disturbing as it was odd. One hand was raised, index finger tracing an invisible line along the wall. His gaze followed the movement of the finger for a moment before fixing it on her.
"Of all the pools on all the college campuses… what are the odds, huh?"
"Logan," she said hesitantly, desperately willing her stuttering heart to calm. "Been a long time."
"It has, hasn't it?" he responded with just a slight air of sarcasm. "So, how goes the ole' college experience?"
"Uh… good… thanks," she managed faintly. "You?"
"Oh, you know…" He gave a shrug, letting the sentence hang awkwardly in the air.
"Right," said Veronica when the silence got too much to bear. "Well, I'd better get going. Places to be, cases to solve. You know how it is."
Gaze averted and head down, she quickly moved past him, wanting to get away from the awkward confrontation as soon as possible. She didn't get more than a few feet away before he called out to her.
"I saw you watching me, from the balcony."
She stopped, her back to him. "No, you didn't."
"Oh, I beg to differ." His voice held a tone of amusement and she exhaled slowly before turning back to face him. He pushed off the wall and took a couple of steps towards her. "You've been doing it for weeks."
"I wasn't watching you," she shot back quickly, her heartrate speeding up at the lie. "I was watching the swim team. Plural. I find it therapeutic while I'm working out."
"Hmm…" His expression turned thoughtful as he lifted a finger to his lower lip, tapping it gently. "Really? Because it seemed to me like I've been right in your line of sight for, well, the whole time."
Veronica frowned, going on the offensive. "How would you even know, huh? I'd have thought you were too busy swimming laps to notice anything else."
He shrugged, giving another smirk. "I'm good at multi-tasking."
Veronica stared at him for a minute before giving a relenting sigh. "I didn't know it was you, okay? You caught my eye in the pool, and I found myself watching. I didn't realise it was you until tonight."
"You didn't?" He shot her a disbelieving look.
"Believe it or not, Logan, you've changed since the last time I saw you," she said, hoping he wouldn't make her elaborate any further on what she meant by that. "I didn't recognise you, especially not with the whole cap and goggles thing. So sue me."
"Yeah?" His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
"Oh, shut up." Veronica directed an annoyed glare at him.
He took another step towards her, looking like he wanted to say something, but she stepped back in response, unable to take any more of this embarrassing encounter.
"I have to go," she muttered quickly, turning away from him and throwing over her shoulder an airy, "Nice seeing you."
"Veronica, wait," Logan's voice called from behind her, a hint of urgency in his tone, but she refused to turn back, just carried on striding out of the gym building.
She couldn't get dragged back into all of his drama again. She wouldn't. She needed to stay strong this time.
She tried to stop, she really did. Tried to force herself to work out at times when she knew the swim team would not be there. But it didn't work. For a start, her class schedule was already full and with trying to fit in both her schoolwork and cases for Mars Investigations, the only free time she had for the gym was, yep, you guessed it, during the late-evening swim team practices. Resigned to the fact that she didn't really have a choice in the matter, she attempted to use the treadmills in the main gym instead, but spending only one session in there, with the loud music and all the leering, obnoxious gym goers, was enough to remind her why she'd chosen the balcony in the first place.
So, that was how she found herself back up there, looking out over the pool again, as Logan and his teammates swam their gazillion laps every other night. She was careful though, to turn up early and to leave before practice was over, so there was no chance of a repeat of that horrible, stilted conversation with him. Of course, that only worked for about a week because, glutton for punishment that she was, she found herself secretly wishing she would bump into him again… so her gym sessions started getting later, lasting longer, finishing right around the same time as the swim practice.
It only took two days for him to cotton on to what she was doing, and on the second night, she found him standing outside the changing rooms again, leaning against the wall, much as he had done two weeks earlier.
"Hey," she greeted him cordially.
"Hey." He nodded. "So, it's late…"
"It is…" she agreed hesitantly.
"Walk you back to your car?"
"Oh." She blinked in surprise, not expecting that. "Sure. Okay."
He nodded again, turning and falling into step beside her. They made their way through the gym building in silence, Veronica having no clue what to say to him. For about half the distance to the parking lot, he seemed to have the same problem, but then, just before they reached the exit, he cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Good workout?"
"Yeah." She nodded, stepping outside as he held open the door for her. "Got a few miles in. You?"
"Uh huh. We have a meet in a couple weeks," he said. "Team's looking pretty good."
"Great," she murmured, her gaze landing on her car a few feet away. "Well, this is me."
She stopped beside the Saturn and he did the same, the side of his mouth quirking up as he turned to face her. "Drive safe."
"You, too."
With that, he turned away and headed across the lot. Veronica watched him walk away with a bemused frown, before unlocking her car and sliding into the driver's seat.
Things continued in much the same vein for the next few days. Veronica would finish up on the treadmill about the same time as the swim team left the pool, and Logan would meet her outside the locker rooms, before walking her back to her car. She found it both strange and sweet at the same time. On the one hand, it was nice having someone looking out for her; but on the other, when that someone was your ex-boyfriend, whom you'd been studiously avoiding for more than two years and whom you couldn't seem to stop thinking about lately, you knew you were in trouble.
It was a week later that the pattern changed. Logan met her like usual, but instead of simply walking her to her car and heading home, he said, "You wanna grab a coffee? There's a place around the corner."
And against her better judgement, she found herself agreeing, which was how they ended up making small talk in a small, late-night coffee bar almost three years after they'd last broken up.
"So…" Veronica started hesitantly.
"So…?" He looked at her expectantly.
"So, this is weird, huh?"
"Weird?" He frowned, though a smile played on his lips. "What on Earth could be weird about this?"
She raised her eyebrows in a 'touché' gesture. "So, how've you been, Logan?"
He gave a shrug, leaning back in his chair as he twisted a sugar packet between his long fingers. "Depends who you ask, I guess."
"I'm asking you."
"Had some ups and downs," he said vaguely. "You?"
"Oh no, you're not getting off that easy, mister."
He raised a speculative eyebrow, giving a smirk. "I wasn't aware I was getting off at all."
"Oh, don't worry, you're not." She shot him a withering look.
"Well, that's a shame," he returned lightly. "I wouldn't have bought you coffee and cake if I'd known."
"Yeah, you would," she shot back with a small smile.
He considered that for a second, head tilting to one side. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"But seriously, folks," she turned back to the topic at hand. "Enquiring minds want to know: the swim team?"
"Ah." He nodded. "Yeah. Well, short story: I needed to get fit."
"And you chose swimming?"
"Turns out I'm a natural. Must be all that surfing." He shot her a grin, before sobering. "Not just swimming though. I run, cycle, box, lift weights. You name it, I've done it by now."
"Really?" Veronica tried to equate this new Logan before her with the guy she knew in high school and freshman year of college. It was proving difficult. "Why?"
"That would be the long story." His gaze dropped to the sugar packet in his hand. "But in a nutshell: I plan to join the Navy."
Veronica's mouth dropped open as her eyes widened in shock. "You're doing what now?"
He looked up at her again with an almost coy half-smile. "I'm joining the Navy. After I graduate next year."
"I'm sorry… but, huh?" She understood the words, but couldn't seem to compute them into something meaningful. "Since when are you interested in the Navy?"
He shrugged. "Since I hit rock-bottom sophomore year and needed something solid to work towards. My grandfather was in the Navy—my mom's dad—and it was suggested to me that the Armed Forces might be a good path to take for someone in my…situation."
"Your situation?" Veronica was still struggling to take it all in. "Rock-bottom? Do I even want to know?"
"Probably not," he admitted. "There was a lot of partying and drugs involved. A couple of ODs. A stint in rehab and a slow rebuilding of my life."
"Shit, Logan…" Veronica's voice trailed off. She'd heard things hadn't been going well for him, but she'd never imagined it had been this bad. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well," he murmured, "it was inevitable, I guess. I wasn't in a good place, hadn't been for years. The summer after freshman year, it finally caught up to me."
"But you're better now?" she asked in concern, resisting the urge to reach across the table and take his hand in hers.
"Depends on your definition of 'better'." He gave a sardonic smile. "I'm off the drugs, I stopped drinking, I enrolled back in Hearst, and I'm trying to make something of my life now. Of course, there's still the clinical depression and the permanent psychological damage from years of abuse, but for the most part, I'm okay. I'm dealing."
"God, Logan. I should have—"
"What?" He cut her off with a questioning raise of his eyebrow. "You should have known; should have been there?"
"Yeah…" she said weakly.
"No, Veronica. It was my problem to solve, not yours," he told her. "You made the right decision, cutting ties with me, getting on with your life."
"Still…" she started, but he just gave her a firm look and after a moment, she nodded in acceptance. "Fine. Okay."
"So, that's my story," he said then. "What's yours?"
"Not nearly as interesting," she admitted. "Got my head down, been working hard, still taking cases… you know, the usual."
"I thought I heard you'd transferred to Stanford?"
She shook her head. "I nearly did. Was thinking about it, but in the end, it wasn't the right decision. So, I stayed."
"So, uh, are you s…?" he began, then trailed off, seemingly changing his mind.
"Am I what?"
"Nothing. Never mind," he dismissed, but the way his eyes flickered to her neck and then down to her hands told her all she needed to know.
"Am I seeing anyone?" she finished for him. He nodded sheepishly. "No, I'm not. I was, but it's been over for a couple months. You?"
He shook his head, his tense expression softening. "No."
Their eyes met for a moment, a soft look passing between them, before Veronica broke the gaze and took a sip of her coffee.
"So, the Navy, huh?" she spoke up a few seconds later, as she gathered up a forkful of cake.
"Yeah."
"What do you want to do in the Navy?"
"I'm going to apply for OCS after I graduate next year." Off her blank look, he clarified, "Officer Candidate School. It's the first stage of training for Navy pilots."
Veronica almost choked on the mouthful of cake she was about to swallow. "You wanna be a pilot?"
"Yeah, I do," he admitted. "I wanna fly fighter jets."
"Wow."
His lips quirked up in an amused grin. "You suitably impressed?"
"Still getting my head around it, to be honest," she confessed. "It's just not—"
"Not what you were expecting?"
"Got that right."
"Me either, if we're being honest," he said. "But the more research I do, the more I know it's the right choice."
"I'm glad," she said, "that you found something you want to do."
"Yeah…" He nodded. "So, what about you, still majoring in Criminology?"
"Yep. I graduate this summer."
"And your plans for after?"
"Jury's still out on that one," she admitted.
"What about the FBI?"
She shook her head. "That was the original plan, but after two boring summer internships, I'm not sure it's for me after all. Too much bureaucracy and red tape."
"Ah, that pesky red tape, always getting in the way of your completely legal and above-board methods." He shot her a knowing smile.
"Tell me about it."
They finished off the last of the coffee and cake, and then Logan insisted on walking her back through the gym parking lot.
"Thanks for the coffee," said Veronica, coming to a stop beside her car and turning to face him.
"No problem."
"It was nice, you know, to catch up," she added.
"Yeah, it was."
He stood there for a moment, looking like he wanted to add something more, but then he just shook his head and flashed her a smile.
"See you around, Veronica."
"See ya, Logan."
After that evening in the coffee shop, Veronica's feelings towards Logan became even more confused. Especially given the fact that now that she had a face and name to put to the body, not to mention her own memories of being intimate with him, her dreams were playing in high-definition, with surround sound. All she had to do was close her eyes and she would start living out all her dirty fantasies.
They always started the same way, with her sneaking into the empty men's locker room after her workout, only to find him standing with his back to her, completely naked save for a towel slung across one shoulder….
... She swallowed, eyes fixed on his tight butt as she felt herself growing wet. He turned his head, the beginnings of a grin gracing his features as he acknowledged her.
"Enjoying the view?" he said, cocking an eyebrow as he turned around, exposing himself completely to her gaze.
Veronica's eyes lowered, tracing every ridge and trough of his abdomen before dropping to his erect cock. She inhaled sharply, before licking her lips.
"Most certainly."
He smirked, picking up his wash kit and walking towards the showers. Veronica swallowed, her eyes trailing after him.
"Well?" He stopped about halfway and turned back to her. "What are you waiting for?"
"Uh…" She stood there blankly for a moment, before her feet started moving of their own accord.
She came to a stop in the entrance of the shower room, only able to watch as he started the water running and then moved to stand in front of her. His gaze was dark and lustful as he shook his head.
"Oh, no, these won't do at all," he murmured as his hands came to her sides.
His fingers ran over the material of her sports bra, then slid under the band and pushed it up. She lifted her arms to help him bring it over her head. He tossed the garment to the other side of the room, away from the shower spray, then returned his hands to her sides, sliding them down to her waist before brushing his fingers along her stomach. Veronica shivered under the gentle touch, arousal flooding through her as he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her gym shorts, gently teasing the skin there.
"God…" she muttered breathily, her stomach muscles clenching in response.
He grinned, moving his hands around to her back, slipping them fully into her shorts now and palming her ass, giving it a squeeze. "Nope, just me."
She sighed, then gave a sharp gasp as he pulled her to him, pressing her lower body against his, trapping his arousal between them. Veronica could feel herself getting even wetter as his hips rocked against her, his length sliding over her stomach, and she let out a soft moan. He just smiled indulgently before lowering his head and capturing her mouth in a drugging kiss. She melted into it, her heartrate speeding up as she reacquainted herself with his lips, his mouth, his tongue…. it had been so long since she'd tasted him…
Even as they kissed, his hands worked to rid her of her shorts and underwear. He pushed them down over her hips and she kicked them the rest of the way off. His hands moved to cup her small breasts, palming them at first, then rolling her nipples between his thumb and index finger in just the way she always used to love. His mouth left hers and, knowing what was coming, she tilted her neck in invitation. He smiled against her skin as he nuzzled the crook of her neck, then kissed a path upwards until he reached the underside of her jaw, kissing and licking the spot right there that never failed to make her shiver and gasp.
She didn't realise he had turned them around and was walking her backwards until she felt the hot, gushing water against her back and shoulders. He moved them fully under the spray, then pulled back a little so he could slip a hand between their bodies. His fingers parted her lips and slipped between them, stroking gently.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he muttered, voice strangled.
She grinned. "Only for you."
His eyes darkened and he let out a barely-restrained groan as he grabbed her, hoisting her up against the wall. She eagerly complied, wrapping her legs around his waist. The tip of his cock pressed against her clit in the most delicious way and she had to physically stop herself from rocking against him. He lowered his head to kiss her again, hot and heavy, before easing himself inside her.
He began to move and Veronica's head fell back against the slick tiles, her mouth falling open as heavy, gasping breaths left her body. This felt incredible. He was incredible. She hadn't realised how much she'd missed this, missed how only he could make her feel this way, until this very moment.
He continued to pound into her, one arm braced against the wall, the other stroking her clit. She tightened her legs around him, holding herself up and clinging to him with everything she had, until she felt the heat building inside her, until her inner muscles began clenching around him, until she cried out in orgasm. He continued to pound into her while she rode it out, but as she came down from the high, he slowed his movements, pushing away from the wall. Carrying her back into the changing area, he laid her down on one of the benches.
It wasn't the most comfortable or the most logical place to have sex, but he made it work. She barely had time to figure out what his plan was before he was moving inside her again, stroking harder and faster with every rock of his hips. He reached for her hand, bringing it down between their bodies. She took the hint and pressed the tips of two fingers to her clit before gently stroking and teasing herself.
"Fuck, yeah," he ground out, eyes fixed on her.
Veronica brought her other hand up to her breast, cupping it, brushing her thumb across her nipple and that seemed to be all it took. His thrusts sped up and then he was spilling inside her, hot and gushing and incredible. As his movements slowed, he lowered his head to kiss her, before grinning down at her lazily…
Veronica shook herself out of the memory, mentally berating herself for letting her imagination run away with her on the way to the gym. She shouldn't be fantasising about him, not anymore. She'd moved on, they both had… but, then again, so many things had changed in the last few weeks.
Three weeks ago, she had no idea if he was even living in Neptune anymore, and just two weeks ago, he was this strange mystery she couldn't reconcile with the boy she fell for in high school—a combination of both the familiar and unfamiliar—but now… now he was real to her again. He was still the same guy, but he was different; he'd dug himself out of a dangerous hole and had turned his life around. Not to mention, he was fucking hot now; not that he wasn't before, but now… wow. And on top of that, he was becoming someone she could be proud of. Someone she could maybe lo—
No, stop it, Veronica, she scolded herself as she climbed the stairs to the balcony Monday night, which was the only night she came here when the swim team wasn't in the pool. Don't even go there.
Of course, the entire notion of not thinking about him flew right out of the window the moment she reached the top of the stairs and discovered she was not alone. There, on the treadmill next to the one she used, feet pounding on the rubber, arms pumping, breath coming fast, was Logan.
Shit.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, approaching him and placing her water bottle and towel on her treadmill.
"Oh, hey." He spared her a quick glance, not losing pace at all. "Sorry. Can't chat. Running."
"I see that."
When it was obvious he wasn't going to stop, or apologise for invading her space, she sighed and stepped up onto the treadmill, turning it on and selecting her preferred program. If he didn't think working out together was a big deal, then she wouldn't treat it like one.
After a quick warm-up, she turned on her iPod and settled into a steady pace, concentrating on her own movements and not on the fact that he was just two feet away from her, all out of breath and sweaty. She refused to think about how, out of the corner of her eye, she could see his muscles working, flexing, bulging with every powerful step, with every swing of his arms. And God, what right did he have to look so good doing it?
Needing a distraction, especially given her body was still feeling the effects from fantasising about him fucking her in the shower, she upped her speed, working her legs flat-out for the next couple of minutes. She was so focused on not focusing on him that she barely even registered when he slowed his own treadmill to a stop and stepped off it. For a moment, she thought he'd gone, but when she paused the track on her iPod, she heard the sound of one of the punching-bags that hung from the ceiling being, well, punched, and she relaxed. He was still here.
Not having him in her line of sight anymore allowed her to concentrate on running, and she finished the remainder of the workout program without incident. She completed her cool-down, then slowed the treadmill to a stop, taking a swig of water and running the towel over her face, before stepping off it.
She turned, but stopped abruptly in her tracks when she got a glimpse of Logan, his back to her, t-shirt discarded on the floor, throwing punches at the swinging bag with determination. She swallowed, gaze drifting down over his naked back, eyes following the beads of sweat that slid down his spine.
God help me, she thought, feeling her body respond to the delectable sight before her. I want him. No… I need him.
He stopped to take a breather and Veronica found herself moving towards him, unable to stop herself. Coming to stand just behind him, she reached out, resting her hands on his waist. He stiffened, flinching a little, but then quickly relaxed. Mesmerised by the large expanse of skin before her, Veronica let her hands slide across his lower back, before moving them up, her fingers tracing his spine as she went.
"Veronica…" His voice was gravelly, almost strangled, and it did all kinds of things to her insides.
"Logan…" she murmured. "I…"
She licked her lips, swallowing again, unsure how to continue. He made the decision for her and her hands slipped from his back, falling to her sides, as he turned to face her, pulling off his boxing gloves and dropping them to the floor. He looked down at her with piercing dark eyes, expression serious but with a dangerous edge to it. His hand lifted, fingers drifting along her collarbone as she stared up at him. Then he was cupping her jaw, tilting it up as his head lowered towards hers. Before she could comprehend what was happening, his lips met hers in a soft, gentle kiss.
And just like that, everything snapped into place. This was right, this was how it was supposed to be. God, this was everything she'd been missing.
His mouth moved over hers, deepening the kiss, encouraging her to let go. Her lips parted beneath his and the first touch of his tongue against hers was her complete undoing. She couldn't hold back anymore, the last few weeks of pent-up frustration and lust finally spilling over. She grabbed onto his arms, rose up on her tiptoes, and kissed him with everything she had. She felt his strong arm loop around her waist, tugging her close, practically lifting her off the floor. She took the hint and jumped up, wrapping her legs around him, her arms coming around his neck for support.
"God, V'ronica," Logan mumbled against her mouth as he manoeuvred them across the room, then sank down on one of the weights benches, tugging her into his lap.
She could feel his arousal pressing between them, brushing deliciously against her sex when he shifted to get more comfortable, and she shuddered, gasping as a bolt of lust shot right through her.
Logan lay back on the bench, bringing her with him, her chest pressed to his as they continued to kiss. His hands ran up and down her back, fingers dipping teasingly below the waistband of her gym pants before his hands slid inside and cupped her bottom, holding her tight against his length… just like he had in her dream.
"God, I need you," she managed between kisses, her hips rocking against his in an attempt to ease some of the friction between her legs.
"Need you, too," he muttered feverishly.
She lifted her head to look down at him, biting her lip at the sight of his hooded eyes, mussed hair and swollen lips.
"You have anything?"
He frowned, looking confused. "Anything?"
"Protection?"
He thought for a moment, then scowled, letting his head drop back against the bench in frustration. "No. Damn it."
"Sorry. I'm not taking any chances," she said, sitting up.
"Yeah, me either," he agreed, his thumbs running over her hips. "Fuck."
"My sentiments exactly."
He closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again quickly and looking up at her with a lustful smile.
"You know, I don't have anything up here, but I do in my gym bag downstairs."
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?"
"I have no idea," he responded, sitting up as she slid off him.
He stood, then took her hand and led her down the stairs. When they got to the men's locker room door, he started to open it, but she stopped him with a tug on his hand.
"What if someone's in there?"
He shrugged. "It's late. We gotta be the only ones still here this time of night."
"Maybe you could go check?"
He sighed, but let go of her hand and headed inside to check it out. About ten seconds later, he reappeared.
"All clear."
"Great." Veronica grinned as Logan took her hand again and practically dragged her through the door. "Now we can act out the shower fantasy I've been having about you for the last two months."
As the door closed behind them, Logan frowned. "Wait, I thought you said you didn't know it was me?"
"I didn't." She shrugged. "Doesn't mean I wasn't fantasising about the Sexy Swimmer Guy whose identity I didn't yet know."
"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow, looking smug. "I knew it. You can't stay away from me, Veronica Mars."
"Not with that body, I can't," she quipped lightly. "You're built like a fucking Greek God these days."
"And proud of it." He grinned, lifting his head arrogantly and flexing his pecs and biceps.
"Logan?" She tugged on his hand as her gaze landed on the shower area… it wasn't quite the same as in her fantasies, but that didn't matter; the end result was gonna be the same. "Will you quit preening and just fuck me in the shower already?"
When there was no response, she looked up at him, only to find him staring down at her, slack-jawed.
"You heard me, Buster." She flashed him a lusty grin.
He didn't need any more encouragement than that, quickly striding across the room to grab a couple of condoms from his gym bag and then dragging her into the showers.