Story Title: Never Enough

Chapter Title: Post-Coital Confrontations

Summary: Lit set in present time. Jess never made his season six appearance, but Rory found her way to his book anyhow. Crossover GG/VM.

Rory stepped out of the shower, her skin pink from the heat of the water and the intense way she'd scrubbed the loofah over her body. She'd washed her hair twice to get the smell of smoke out of her hair, and now, as she stood in front of the steamy mirror smelling only the lavender of her conditioner, she was sorry for all the trouble she'd gone through.

She knew when she woke up that it had been a mistake. That no matter what she'd allowed to happen the night before, the entire night before, she couldn't do it again. It'd been a momentary lapse in judgment, or an unfulfilled wish that she could now put to rest. As visceral as it was, being with Jess wasn't real. Her memories of the night would be just as fantastic as the fantasies she'd developed in her teenage years.

She wiped down the mirror with her towel and tossed it on the floor. She picked up her brush and smoothed her wet hair back off her neck and face. She saw an angry, red bruised mark on her neck, and leaning up and in, she saw a trail of them from her neck to her stomach. She half turned to see the biggest on the back side of her hip. She shuddered as she remembered him leaving it here.

The bed was smaller than what she was used to being in with another person. There wasn't room to roll away from him, not that she wanted to. From the moment her lips had crashed into his, she hadn't much cared about needing her own space. His hands canvassed the skin that he'd exposed out of necessity, removing things so that his lips wouldn't burn a hole through them. His head had followed his hands, leaving her free to writhe back and forth, enjoying each and every pleasure that he provided her. Her hips tilted up, and he used both hands to hold her in the position. She felt his mouth open, and instead of wet heat, she felt a sharper nip of teeth. She arched her back, and he let her down so he could leave an open-mouthed kiss on the slight protrusion of her hip bone on the opposite side.

Luckily, she knew her skin would heal in the next few days and the evidence that she'd been with him would fade forever. In the meantime, she had to do her best to push the flood of vivid images that accosted her out of the forefront of her mind. It was one thing to have fallen to her curiosity, but to continue to relive it would be like carrying on the affair.

None of this was fair to Logan, but she could rationalize that going into the marriage uncertain as to her commitment was worse than sleeping with Jess and finding out for sure if Logan was the man for her. And now she knew.

She wiped the mirror down again to look at her reflection. It should be crystal clear now. She frowned as she looked at herself and only saw her body's reaction to the man she'd let into her bed for one night only.

She'd grown much more adventurous over the last few years. She knew where to touch Logan to take him to the heights of pleasure, and he was a master at making her skin hum and her insides uncoil. But being with Jess… he was so different. The way his stomach tightened as she skimmed her nails over it. The way his head lolled back, as if she'd taken away muscle control when she kissed up his jaw line. He liked to be touched in different places, and he touched her in a completely different way. Just when she thought he was ready to bring her all the way to the crest of gratification, he let her crash back down, so he could intensify her net result. When he finally broke through the wall that separated her from body tingling to toe curling, she cried out in surprise and shock. She just hadn't realized she was capable of such intense, sustainable reactions.

And even then, he had only just begun.

She heard the loud knocking at the door to her hotel room, and she felt her heartbeat hasten. It could be the linen service, but immediately a part of her hoped that he was back for more. That was the same part that took over last night and let her believe that he needed this as much as she did. And if he was back now, then maybe he truly had wanted it as much as she did.

She brushed her hair down, letting the wet strands plaster around her neck to cover the evidence, and grabbed her bathrobe off the back of the bathroom door. She took one last look at her very pink skin, and turned away from her reflected image. She moved to the door, took a deep breath to calm the nerves that were firing off in her stomach at the thought of him coming back, and opened the door.

He smiled at her warmly and stepped into the room while wrapping his arms around her. There was no hesitation, as if she expected him to be there. She was slower to return the gesture, out of shock. She hugged his solid form and rested her head on his shoulder.

When she pulled back, he looked into her eyes. "Surprised?"

"Yeah, yes," she blinked. "Logan, what are you doing here?"

XXXX

"And then I just have to upload it into the mainframe and voila," Mac finished explaining and turned to look at her tuned-out friend. "I've done it again, haven't I? I've bored you with the Geek Speak."

Veronica looked up and blinked. She had been tuning her out, but it had nothing to do with the amount of technical jargon that had been flung her way.

"No, Mac, sorry. You're not boring me; I just didn't get much sleep last night. Any, actually. I really appreciate you doing this for me."

Mac shrugged. "No problem. So, what was keeping you up all night?"

Veronica let her mind drift to the answer to that question, not that it was hard to get those images to rise to the surface. She was instantly transported back to that couch, with his weight on top of her, his shirt on top of hers on the floor.

Looking back, she had been powerless to stop it. He hadn't tried to move her off the couch, probably because he knew as well as she did that if they allowed the train to slow down one of them might jump off. Jumping off might hurt her, but probably not as much as the inevitable train wreck that was going to follow. It was just so hard to think of the pain they were able to cause each other when he pressed his body against her, trapping her between the soft cushions of the couch and his hard body.

His only redemption was that no matter how much he'd hurt her, he'd more than made up for it the night before. He spent hours making up for every tear she'd cried, every wish she'd had to forget him. He made sure she would never forget him. All the little things about him that she hadn't allowed herself to think of; the way he smiled just before he kissed her, the playful dance his fingers engaged in over her thigh before slipping under the edge of her underwear… she couldn't imagine the day would come when it wasn't all she could focus on.

"Veronica?"

She looked up at Mac again, feeling guilty for consistently being a bad friend. Not only couldn't she focus on her words, but she couldn't engage in a simple back and forth with one of the few people at the school that didn't make her want to run screaming from the building.

"I'm so sorry. I'm not usually this distracted. I've had a lot on my mind, that's all."

Mac nodded. "Sure, I get it. But you know, some people tell each other things. They exchange personal facts. Sometimes they put make-up on each other and eat massive amounts of chocolate. These people are called friends."

Veronica snapped her fingers. "I've heard of these people. I've just never been one of them."

Mac laughed. "I just mean, if you have something going on, well, it's not like I have anyone to tell. I hate this place as much as you do."

Veronica squinched her nose. "We don't have to do the make-up thing, do we? Because someone else coming at me with a sharp stick of color freaks me out."

Mac nodded solemnly. "I respect that. Seriously though, is everything okay?"

She was on fire. She was in literal physical discomfort. She could feel him pressing between her legs, and all she wanted was for him to relieve the ache. She knew he wasn't ready now, as much as he wanted the same thing. If he gave into her now, it would be over too fast. He wanted to make sure she still tasted the same, of anticipation and lust and something more. He wanted to feel how hot she got at the apex of her thighs, and he wanted to revel in the fact that he did this to her. And he wanted to hear her say those two words….

"Logan, please."

"I'm fine. Really. It's just this case, I'm really ready to solve it and put it behind me. It's one thing to solve a mystery, but this one just keeps twisting and turning and running me into brick walls. I need a new crash helmet."

"That's too bad. Well, I hope this helps. I'm sure you'll figure it out. You're the best in the biz."

Veronica took the disc and shoved it into her bag. "Thanks. So are you."

Mac smiled at her and turned back to her computer. Veronica turned to leave the computer lab, running smack into the one person that had been running through her mind all morning. He reached out to balance her, and she found herself feeling suddenly feverish.

"Hey," he smiled easily. "I was looking for you."

"Well, you found me," she said a little too cheerfully.

"When I woke up this morning, you were gone," he looked at her, something akin to concern filling his brown eyes. What worried her was that it wasn't something like concern, but that it was exactly what it was. As soon as his defenses were down around her, she was in trouble, with a capital T.

"I had to get home and change."

He nodded. "You should have woken me."

She shrugged. "I figured one of us should get some sleep," she blushed even as she thought of what had kept them both awake most of the night.

She closed her eyes because she couldn't stand to watch him look at her with such reverence. Like her body was somehow superior to others that had come before her, and she knew many others had. He made her feel like something more than a temporary solution to an on-going problem. She wasn't in his bed because he was bored—she wasn't even in his bed. Her head hit against the arm of the couch as he moved against her, her legs wrapped around his waist so she could anchor against something to move with him. Her whole body was slick, perspiring from the inside out. His torso slid against her, and his arms slid against her back as his fingers dug into her shoulders from the backside.

"Nothing else feels like you," he whispered into her ear, making every last muscle in her body tighten around him. She knew then it only felt this good because it was him.

"Besides, I had to get here early and run something by Mac. I got a number from Cliff, ran it, and managed to pull a garbled message off the voicemail. Mac slowed it down with her superhuman computer skills, and I'm off to see what I can make of it."

His pupils dilated. "Want some company?"

She looked down. "I'm just going to parse it in study hall. Don't you have class?"

He shrugged. "We need to get to the bottom of this. I feel like I need to get this behind me, right now it's hanging over my head, making me feel like I did something I didn't do. You know I didn't do it, right?"

She looked up at him. She believed in his innocence. If she didn't, she couldn't have been with him like that, could she? But then, if she believed in him so much, why had she put an end to the relationship in the first place?

"Just give me some time with this, and I'll let you know as soon as I find something. We're close to an answer; you have to trust me on that."

He nodded. "Okay. You know where to find me."

She nodded. She always did. And that was one of her biggest problems.

XXXX

"You said you missed me, right?"

Rory nodded numbly, acutely aware of each and every hickey hidden from his view. She felt the heat of each one, as if they were glowing red hot under her robe. She didn't know what she'd do if he saw one, and she backed up.

"How did you…?" she looked up at him.

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

Was she? Of course she was. He was her fiancé, after all, the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life.

"Where's your ring?"

Her heart nearly stopped. Her ring. She hadn't had it on in days. Last night she'd considered it an omen. Last night she'd wondered if he still would have been with her if she'd been wearing the two carat diamond on her left ring finger.

She felt like a weight had been lifted. There was nothing holding her back, nothing stopping her. She opened the door to the balcony, where he was standing, smoking. He'd pulled on boxer shorts, looking out over the ocean as its white waves broke in the dark. She was still wrapped in the top sheet, five hundred thread count of pure softness to contrast the hardness of his toned muscles that had been against her just minutes before. He turned his head to look at her, just for a second, then took another drag, lighting up the tip in a blaze of amber and ash.

"It's beautiful out here," she leaned against the glass door.

"I didn't want the smoke to bother you."

"It doesn't."

He looked back at her. "Oh."

She smiled and moved up behind him, trusting the sheet to stay tucked against her as she slid her arms around his chest. He kissed her forehead, the smoke still wafting in the air around the balcony. He reached out to snub the butt out in the ashtray on the table, and intertwined his right hand with her left.

She felt so free.

"I took it off, to clean it," she stammered.

"Oh. You know, I could have done that for you, when you got home. I could have just dropped it off at Tiffany's on my way to work."

She shrugged. "Mom got me some stuff, to do it myself."

He nodded. "Whatever you want, Ace. So, I was going to suggest we go out for breakfast, but since you're already undressed, maybe we should just order in," he smiled and took a step closer.

She started to undress herself, lifting up the edge of her shirt as he lay back on the bed, but he leaned up and stopped her.

"You in a hurry?"

She shook her head.

"Good. Come here." His smile left her no choice but to crawl onto the bed over him, her hair falling down over his face as she leaned down to kiss him slowly, taking her time. There was no need to hurry.

She tightened her robe. "Actually, let's go out. I can show you around, we could go to the beach."

Logan looked at her for a long beat, and she wondered what exactly he was thinking. Normally after time apart, their first stop was always the bed, but she couldn't let him see her skin and the linen service hadn't come yet, so the sheets still smelled like sex and cigarette smoke. She prepared herself for a fight.

"Okay. You go get dressed, and I'll go downstairs and have the car brought around."

She frowned. "Sure."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I really missed you, Ace."

She nodded and murmured back. "Me too."

Her lips burned from the initial contact with his. She hadn't kissed him in so long, yet it felt like yesterday. It was the same feeling of illicit lust and innocent curiosity. He tasted like the remnants of his last cigarette and … Jess.

He pulled back, his eyes wild, but she could tell he was trying to control his breath.

"You don't want to do this, Rory."

"So what if I do?"

He shook his head. "Is that why you came here, to Neptune?"

She opened her mouth, but no reply came.

"I assume you didn't suddenly break up with the guy since I saw you last?"

She shook her head.

"Then why? Did you two have a fight, and I'm your revenge? Is he bad in bed?"

She became strangely upset about the implication. "No! He's amazing in bed. He knows my body better than I do," she spat at him.

His mouth set into a hard line. He stepped up closer to her, running a hand up her side, coming around and barely brushing the side of her breast. "You sure about that?"

"I thought I didn't want to do this," she challenged him.

"Tell me why."

She braced herself. "He's amazing in bed, he loves me, and I know he's not thinking about being with other women."

He listened, but the heat of their kiss still remained between them. His patience wouldn't last long, and she would lose her nerve if she didn't spit it out soon.

"But there are times when I can't stop wondering what it would have been like, to be with you."

He leaned in, his lips at her ear. His hands came up, brushing her cheeks with his fingers, feather-light, bone-tingling. "I won't pretend to know your body," he warned her. "But you damn sure will know every inch of it when I'm done."

She took one last look at the rumpled bed sheets and wished she's said something before he left.

XXXX

"Where were you last night?"

Busted. She looked up to see her father standing with arms crossed, leaning against the kitchen counter. He'd been waiting for the ambush. He wouldn't like the truth, nor would he appreciate her patented lie of omission trick. But he'd hate the omission less. He's sleep at night. He wouldn't bug her phone. Come to think of it, it was the only option when your father had every means to spy on you.

"I was working."

"All night? Veronica, you're a high school student. You do remember high school, don't you?" he stepped forward.

"I went to school."

"Good! That's a start. Now, tell Daddy, where did you sleep last night?"

She never fell asleep. He did, eventually, his body still half covering hers, half pressed into the cushions on the back of the couch. She had enough room to breathe, not crushed by him, but she wished she was. His arm was snaked around her stomach, holding her tight, making her feel like she was where she belonged. She traced his fingers, taking in every last second of this night, trying to make it last.

"At my friend's house."

"Friend? As in a girl your own age?" he looked hopeful.

"Yeah, Mac. She was helping me decode a voicemail that was too garbled to understand."

Keith stepped forward and kissed her forehead. "It's a start. Pretty soon you'll be painting each other's nails and making cookies."

"I'm sorry I made you worry," she said honestly.

"Well, I didn't worry all night. I actually just got home a few hours ago. I had a stakeout at the Neptune Grand last night."

She stopped cold. "Why?"

"A jealous, and might I add very wealthy, fiancé trying to keep tabs on his cheating girlfriend. I was out, watching the room. But it was an easy job, I got my evidence, came home, then the anxiety attacks over my missing daughter began. I have to tell you, I was a little paranoid. I almost called Logan's hotel room."

She laughed nervously. "Don't worry. I just forgot to call. It won't happen again."

"Veronica," he pushed her hair off her forehead. "I know you don't think this can work," he kissed her, his eyes as open as his mouth. "I just don't understand why."

She ran her hands through his hair, kissing him yet again. She knew this wasn't the way it worked, she couldn't give in like this, let him touch her like he wanted to at night and push him away like she knew she had to when the sun broke over the horizon. She had to convince him to make the most of this night, their legs and arms wound around each other while their hearts pounded to the same rhythm. "Can't we just enjoy being here now?"

He kissed her again, this time he closed his eyes, sure she'd still be there when he opened them again.

She walked back into her own room, knowing that she'd left him this morning before he could leave her, and maybe that's why she'd broken up with him in the first place.