Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own DA
A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up! I actually had it done Sunday night, but I've been figuring out this chaptering thing...I hate change, lol!
Wind of Change
Logan stood in the middle of the hotel room and yawned. He stretched his lanky body with his palms facing the ceiling. The action pulled his shirt up, revealing his navel, and he lazily scratched his stomach. It was deep into the night, and he was exhausted. They were still a few miles from Coeur D'Alene. The going was slow, and after the third bottleneck Logan had insisted they wait until morning to continue on.
Max, of course, had offered to drive so Logan could just sleep in the passenger seat but, like any self-respecting man, he hadn't been able to allow that to happen. So, she sat on the bed giving him a stormy look. Despite her insistence that they needed to get there as soon as possible, Logan didn't think that Zack was moving too quickly. He had no real reason to get on his motorcycle and ride off into the night as fast as he could.
"I'm going to shower," Max announced.
"I think I'm going to have to hit the sheets," he replied, walking over to his bed. There was a level of disappointment in him that the room had two beds. Next time, he vowed to stop in a smaller town that might only have one bed rooms. He felt only slightly guilty for plotting to get Max into his bed. After all, he wasn't so much as considering doing anything with her. Well, maybe he was considering it, but his intentions were merely to be close to her.
He flopped down onto the bed, laying on his back. His head resting on his folded arms, he watched Max bent over her duffel bag. Her position offered him a nice view of her rear, which he thoroughly enjoyed before she finally found the few bathroom products she'd brought along.
"Better get your sleep, we're leaving early," she said pointedly, tossing her chin high in the air. Without another word, she walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Pushing himself up off the bed, Logan peeled off his shirt and reached for his suitcase.
"And another thing-" Max came sprinting out of the bathroom, and came to an abrupt stop, her eyes like saucers when she saw Logan, standing half dressed beside his bed.
"What?" he asked, suddenly a little self-conscious. Her dark eyes locked on him, for once on his body and not with his own eyes. Sub-consciously Logan inhaled, puffing up his chest.
"Never mind," she squeaked and, squaring her shoulders, shut herself back in the bathroom. Logan stood, frozen in position for a moment. The sound of her turning on the water brought him out of the immobile state he'd fallen into. Shaking his head, he shoved his shirt into the suitcase and followed it with his pants. Maybe sleeping in his boxers was playing some kind of game with Max, but he didn't really care.
Yawning, he tossed back the covers and climbed under them. Rolling onto his side, he turned off the light and faced away from he light spilling out from under the bathroom door. He could hear the light break in the spray of the water as Max stepped underneath it. He figured he probably would have fantasized about that longer had he not been so tired.
Moments later, Logan feel blissfully asleep.
***
Max let the steamy water pound against her back. The image of Logan standing in the middle of the hotel room, his shirt dangling from his hand, filled her head until it drove her crazy. Their relationship had undergone a significant change since she'd run back to save him from Lydecker, but it wasn't quite there yet. No matter how much she wanted to jump out of the shower, dry off, and leap into his bed...she couldn't. They weren't like that.
Not like that...look at me, standing in the shower all hot and bothered just because he didn't have a shirt on. Face it, girl, you like him a lot.
Distractedly, she poured shampoo into her hand and worked up a lather in her hair. Viciously, she scrubbed her head, seeking to clean her thoughts as well as her dark tresses. Her fingers dug into her scalp, the dim pain giving her something else to focus on.
Back under the water, she rinsed the dirt and images away, watching them go down the drain. They returned moments later when she picked up the soap and began a through scrub down of her entire body. Max showered as if she were washing a car, never paying much attention to her body as she did so. However, with Logan so close at hand she became only too aware of the effect he had on her.
All she had to do was walk out into the hotel room, and it would happen. The thing everything between them seemed to be inevitably leading up to. Or, would Logan push her away?
He's a man...he wouldn't say no...but he's no ordinary man...
Disturbed, she finished and shut off the water.
Wrapping a towel around herself, she caught sight of her form in the foggy mirror as she stepped out. She could almost hear Kendra and Original Cindy urging her to give in to temptation. Max wasn't the kind to regularly be presented with something she couldn't say no to. She prided herself on her ability to remain firmly in control in almost any situation. The fact that she lost all semblance of control around Logan made her nervous.
Quickly, before she had more time to think about it, she dried off and pulled on a pair of flannel shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in. She would have felt safer in a sweater and two pairs of pants with belts, even then she wasn't sure she could remain firmly planted in her own bed for the night. Not for the first time, she wished that she slept more. It would be very hard to lay awake with him so close.
Pulling a wide toothed comb through her hair, she bravely opened the bathroom door and walked out into the darkened room. Her night vision being as good as it was, she could make out Logan laying asleep, his back to her -- his wide, bare back. The covers were even with his first rib, doing nothing to hide the fact that he had fairly well defined pecks.
Cussing fiercely under her breath, she turned off the bathroom light and got into her own bed. She crossed her legs and sat facing the wall as she finished combing through the rest of her hair. Desperately, she tried not to think of him.
She could smell him, could hear him breathing. Her inner Original Cindy suddenly started speaking again.
Why keep puttin' it off, Boo? Rich boy's right there, ain't nothing stopping you.
Nothing stopping her, besides the fact that sleeping with Logan would make everything different. She couldn't sit in the car with him knowing they'd made a mistake, enveloped in an uncomfortable silence. His friendship was worth much more than a night of fun, but she wasn't so sure anymore that friendship was really all she wanted out of their relationship.
Turning around, she looked over at him. His spiky hair was crushed against the fluffy, white pillow and his glasses rested on the nightstand between their beds.
Time, they needed time. Eventually, things would work themselves out and she would be ready to tell him about all the confusing emotions rising up in her heart.
***
Morning didn't come soon enough for Max. When the sun finally did peek through the window she leapt up out of bed, eager to leave. Unthinkingly, she leaned over Logan and gently shook him to wake him up. He rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes, blinking a few times. His handsome features were magnified by sleep, and he looked almost childish as he rubbed his eyes.
"What time is it?" he asked groggily.
"Time to get up," Max replied.
"I more meant an hour of the day," Logan replied, flashing her an unhappy frown, his eyes drifting shut again.
"About five thirty," she answered, taking a moment to look at the clock radio which was displaying a series of red, digital numbers.
"Five thirty?" he demanded. "Give me another hour."
"It's getting light out," she pointed out.
"So."
"So, that means it's time to get up."
"You need to learn the joys of sleeping in," he grinned, closing his eyes sleepily.
"I don't sleep," she reminded him.
"Then at least let me."
"No...get up." She reached down to pull him up out of bed, and was surprised when he reacted by pulling her down and rolling over to pin her. The position she found herself in turned her on a little, but Logan had already faded back into sleep. His head turned away from her, he lay on his stomach now.
Max wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation. One of his arms, his shoulder, and part of his chest held her down. Granted, she possessed the strength to throw him off her at any given moment, but as she laid half under him she was too uncomfortable to consider doing so.
"Shit...Logan," she jabbed at him. He groaned and rolled a little away from her.
"Go to sleep, Max," he demanded.
"Logan!" she hissed. "Let me up!"
"Let me sleep," he mimicked her, somehow still witty even when he was only half awake.
"Fine...just get off me!"
Obediently, he rolled away and she leapt out of bed faster than she had her entire life. When she looked down, Logan was laying on his stomach, fast asleep.
Her chest heaved with her heavy, disturbed breathing and she struggled to calm herself down. The incident stuck with her for the following hour as she disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed and then ordered room service.
Logan groggily came to again as Max began digging into a plate piled with French toast.
"Good morning...again," Max said, sending him an irritated stare.
His sleepy eyes landed not on her, but on what she was eating.
"Where'd you get that?" he asked.
"Room service," she replied. "You can have some...maybe." He rubbed his eyes and tossed off the covers. He was wearing only his boxers, making Max's moment under him only more powerful. She shuddered and swallowed hard.
"Smells good," he yawned, pulling a shirt on.
"Not a Logan Cale masterpiece, but they're not bad," Max replied sarcastically.
"Well...can't expect everyone to live up to my cooking I guess," he shrugged. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he stretched and walked into the bathroom. A few moments later he emerged and sat down across from Max.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"I don't sleep," Max reminded him, not for the first time that morning.
"Right..." He reached across the table and picked up her fork where she'd set it down upon finishing as much of the French toast as she could. "Do you mind?"
"Have at it," she replied. Logan sliced off a large, syrupy piece and, using Max's discarded fork, shoved it into his mouth. She was immediately jealous of the fork. He chewed and watched her shift uncomfortably under his intent gaze.
"What?" she finally demanded.
"What do you mean?" he asked, apparently oblivious to how nervous he was making her.
"You're staring at me," she replied. "Do I have something on my face, or what?"
"Oh...no...sorry," he blushed. "I was just...spacing."
"When are you going to be ready to go?" she asked, not particularly in the mood for idle chat.
"I'll finish eating and hop in the shower and we can go," he answered, stopping in mid-sentence to chew and swallow another piece of toast. Max watched him eating and narrowed her eyes.
"You were hungry yesterday, weren't you?" she asked.
"Hungry now," he replied, evading the question.
"I'll call for some fresh towels," she rolled her eyes.
"I can use the ones you used last night, no big deal," Logan insisted.
"They're wet," she shook her head. "I'll just have them bring us up some." She called as he finished off breakfast, still wearing only his boxers and a long t-shirt. He had a massive case of bed-head, but somehow it only made him look more adorable.
All I have to do is walk over to him...it'd be as easy as that...
They'd only been away from Seattle for a day, and Max was already struggling to keep her hands off him. She wasn't at all sure how he'd react if she were to just walk over and kiss him, but she had a pretty good idea. The previous kisses they'd shared, he definitely kissed her back. So, really, the only thing holding her away from him in that moment was fear.
"Logan?"
"Hmm?"
"Never mind..."
"Okay."
Sighing, she forked a hand through her hair. For a soldier, she was quite the coward. Couldn't even ask a man how he felt about her for fear that she wouldn't like the answer. What if she bared her soul only to have him tell her that he only wanted her as a friend...or even worse, as a business partner.
"How long until those towels get here?" he asked impatiently.
"Few minutes," Max shrugged.
Silence descended between them. Logan cleared his throat once as if he was going to say something important, but obviously swallowed the comment because it never came forth. In a like way to Max, he ran one hand through his disheveled hair.
"You look nice today," he announced.
Max didn't reply to his compliment, but looked down at herself instead. She hadn't paid much attention while getting dressed, having been a little distracted by her early morning encounter with Logan. However, she'd managed to put on a pair of tight, black pants and a navy blue shirt on.
Someone knocked at the door as she was about to thank him for the compliment. She got up, and upon answering it was met with a small man with an armful of fluffy white towels. There were many more than the two which she had expected.
"Oh...thank you." She took them from him, caught a little off guard by just how many he'd brought. When she turned around, closing the door with her foot, Logan was laughing.
"Better take some of those home for the stash," he grinned.
"Did you pay someone off, or what?" she asked, tossing two of the towels at him.
"I'll admit to nothing," he said, tossing his hands up.
"I can't believe you," Max laughed. "Get in the shower so we can leave."
"Yes, ma'am," he sent her a cocky grin. As he walked by her on his way to the bathroom, Max slapped at him with one of the towels. He jumped, turning around to counter attack with his own towel. She grabbed the end of it and attempted to yank it out of his hand, an action which only resulting in dragging him extremely close to her. The joking air bled away from the moment and the towels in her hands fell to the floor. His gaze met hers, and in a moment filled to the brim with insanity and sleep deprivation, their lips met.
It was a light brush at first, then clung and intensified until Max groaned loudly and opened her mouth to his tongue. His body loomed closer to hers, or maybe she was going toward him...she was never quite sure. Her hands came up, cradling his head and holding it firmly to her own.
It was just a kiss, a very simple thing, but as kisses went it was one of the most exciting Max had ever experienced. She could hear Logan gasping for breath, his hands buried deeply in her hair as they ravaged one another's mouths. The intensity built steadily, until they were both struggling to stay upright and had to break away from one another to get oxygen.
After one quick, deep breath, they immediately began anew. Logan was, as Max soon found out, an expert kisser. His tongue did things with her own she hadn't imagined possible, filling her with his taste and a frighteningly strong desire to go much further. Her body drew closer to his until she was pressing inch for inch up against him. The jolt the simple contact sent through her system was the only thing that brought her back.
Quickly, she pushed him away, breaking the spell that had come over them. Both were breathing as if they'd just run a marathon.
"Max...I..." Logan tried to speak between gasps.
"Just go shower," she replied, not wanting to hear him say he was sorry. In truth, she wasn't sorry it had happened, it was inevitable that it was going to. She was only sorry that she wasn't ready for the baggage that came with that kiss. Never before had she experienced contact with another person that held behind it so much leashed passion, bordering on violence.
He turned and disappeared into the bathroom without saying anything more, leaving Max to stand among a pile of carelessly dropped linens and unravel her confused emotions. Original Cindy's sage voice entered her head.
Ain't nothin' wrong with followin' your feelings, Boo. Bottom line, you'll just be unhappy if you don't.
**I've come to just accept that this is a highly dialogue oriented fic. Anyway, I'm off to watch the rest of the Super Bowl**