AN: This chapter gets a tad NC17 and it would be my first attempt at that... so excuse the awkwardness and they may be a bit OOC but... yeah, here it is. Also, I wasn't sure if NC17 was inappropriate under this rating system (I don't entirely understand it to be honest) So I'll just put an asterisk where it starts and ends, but I don't really think it's all that dirty or anything…

Anyway, comments are appreciated.

Chapter 6

Logan's P.O.V.

She turns around and smiles her coy little smile with the hot flush burgeoning along her cheeks and her lips that smell like strawberries. I circle my arms around her and lean in closer than I have to. Behind her I shove the key into the lock and swing the door wide open, inching onto her until I'm pressed along her body, holding it up as she falls backwards into my house. Kicking the door closed behind me, I grin against her mouth.

A few moments ago she was tapping her knuckles nervously against the passenger side window and staring out as the sun set and quietly she said,

"My dad's out of town this weekend… he left this morning."

Still tapping, she said,

"You can come over. If you want."

Already heading to my place, I replied, "Aaron's shooting in Miami….. my place cool?"

"Sure."

As she walked slightly before me towards the door, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and biting her lip, I let my eyes wander the length of her body. Closer and closer I leaned into her, feeling that familiar heat radiating from her, until she turned around. And smiled her coy little smile.

(-) Flashback (-)

Logan Echolls chewed at the end of his pencil. He could feel her eyes on his skin, permeating right through into him and he didn't know how he would react if he were to turn around and glance her way.

By second period, everyone had heard about the bruise growing along his right eye down into his cheekbones. By fourth, several different theories popped up around Neptune High, speculating on its origins, none of which were either confirmed or denied by Logan. The two most prominent stories spread around the school were that of an encounter with several of the PCHers in which he was outnumbered, and a relic of rough sex with Paris Hilton.

Fifth period English, Veronica Mars was watching him intently, waiting for some sort of a sign, arguing with herself on whether or not she should approach him. Duncan, seated directly in front of him, glanced her way and shifted uneasily in his chair.

As they headed to lunch after English, Veronica decided to speak to him. She took a deep breath, pulled her backpack up on her shoulders and quickened her pace to fall in step with him and Duncan, gingerly tapping his arm.

"Um, hey… Logan?" she mumbled nervously and he abruptly brushed away her hand.

"Peon… no touching!" he snapped and grinned confusedly at Duncan, who was beside him, frowning slightly.

Startled, Veronica halted mid-step and stood still, watching as the two boys disappeared into the crowd and a few people chuckled around her.

"What was that all about?" Duncan asked, as they started to head out into the quad.

"No idea."

"Have you been… talking or something?" he pressed as the two reached their usual lunch table. "Cause you can, I mean—"

"Dude, drop it. I have no interest in talking to Veronica."

"Speaking of Veronica," Madison sneered as they sat down. "Did you catch the way she was staring at you in English, Duncan?"

Logan frowned and looked up at her. "She was?"

"Uh, yeah… cree-py," she sing-songed. "So is it true you're having a torrid affair with Paris Hilton?"

He rolled his eyes and sunk low on his seat as Madison went on to another subject. Discreetly darting his eyes over at her table, he saw Veronica dropping her bag and sitting down with her tray. She was watching him again. Or maybe she was watching Duncan.

(-) 00 (-)

Veronica Mars tugs at my tongue.

She chews on my lip and purrs up against my body and swings her legs to wrap around me. She bites and sucks at the flesh below my ear as I tumble forward onto the stairs, making my way up as her fingers wind around my hair. I trace the slope of her hipbones with the pads of my thumbs and she jumps up against me reflexively and I feel my legs buckle. She plops down on the top stair and pulls me on top of her and my pulse races to a fast beyond the telling of it.

She pulls away, panting her strawberry breath as she looks down and pulls at the end of my shirt and follows with her own. I sink back into her mouth and feel her lips tremble as she mumbles my name.

(-) Flashback (-)

"Hey… it's Veronica Mars!" he slurred into the telecom speaker, watching her on the screen, standing at his front gates. She looked up determinedly into the security camera, clutching an umbrella above her and said, "Let me in."

"We're not big on taking in strays, babe. But if you ask real nicely, maybe I can have Daddy Dearest write you a check."

"Logan, just let me in."

"Hints have a way of going riiiight over your pretty little head, don't they?"

"I want to talk to you."

"I don't. Or did you not catch that in school today?"

She paused and frowned into the camera lens, struggling to hold on her umbrella in the quickening rain. "I assumed you didn't want to talk to me in front of Duncan… it's fine."

Veronica heard an annoyed scoff come from the telecom and sighed dejectedly, considering leaving when the gates began to slowly part. She saw the lights in the pool house and headed towards the door, gently knocking on it. When there was no answer, she twisted the handle and walked in to see him huddled into a corner, blaring earphones hung around his neck and a near empty bottle of vodka cradled beneath his chin.

"Logan…" she said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"Veronica." He sounded out her name exaggeratedly and then let out a bitter chuckle. "Hey… you're all wet…"

She pulled her sweater tighter around her.

"Isn't it a little late for you to be out? It's, like, eleven… Papa Mars is gonna throw a fit if he finds out you're with a boy this late."

"He's… not home." Her father had said something about a bail jumper in Arizona and said he would be home the following day, or at the latest, the day after.

"Off solving crimes, I assume. Or did he leave you too?"

He stopped, waiting for her to throw back a comment about his mother that never came. She simply stood there looking nervous, stupidly bunching up the hem of her sweater in her fingers.

"So how can I be of assistance today, Mars?"

"You can tell me what happened," she nodded towards his eye. "What really happened."

"You didn't hear about me and Paris?"

"Logan…"

"What?" his voice cracked and he sounded tired. "Christ, what the fuck do you want from me!"

"Just… don't lie to me."

"I don't owe you anything."

She narrowed her eyes and raised her hands in defeat. "I can't win with you, can I?"

"I'm not the one you're trying to win."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you just want your life back! And since Duncan tossed you, you thought you can just climb back through me; honestly, Veronica. That's low even for you."

"You know that's not what happened—"

"And what exactly happened?"

"You kissed me!"

He smirked cruelly and gulped from his bottle. "That was you?"

Veronica crossed her arms around her chest.

"Yeah, that was me," she replied quietly and turned around to leave.

(-) 00 (-)

I slide my finger out from her and she sighs contentedly, pulling me back down to kiss her again. She's still weak kneed so I hold her in my arms as I carry her into my room, all her clothes tangled up on the stairs. Fumbling with the zipper on my jeans she flops backwards onto the bed as I pull them off with my feet and she starts working down my boxers, until we're both naked. She pulls her body to press against me so that her flushed skin tingles against mine and I'm having trouble keeping from sinking inside her.

She looks up at me imploringly, her eyes shining in the dark and she pulls down on my shoulders, trying to push me into her, but something stops me.

The locket sparkles around her neck and I wonder if she's thinking about him.

She intakes a desperate breath of air and arches her back so that her hips rise to grind against mine but I pull back, teasing the edge of her skin with the tip of my erection. It makes her gasp and a frantic bubble of tears rise in her eyes. She digs her nails into my shoulder and urgently hisses my name. And I want to know that she wants me as much as I want her.

I start to dip briefly inside her and she flutters her eyes closed, bracing herself when I pull out again. Suddenly something like a sob escapes her throat and her cheeks are burning red with embarrassment and desperation.

"Logan… pl-please…" she gasps, pleadingly, blinking up at me.

That's all I needed to know.

I plunge myself into her and another sob rushes into the air as she clutches at my shoulders, her face buried into the crook of my neck. I feel the spread of her relieved smile against my skin.

(-) Flashback (-)

The warm water gushed on over her head, dulling the throbbing migraine. It went on down her body and briefly she closed her eyes and forgot about her day.

Kissing him had been a mistake, she knew that now. It didn't matter that on occasion he could be an entirely different person than the one everybody else knew because when it came down to it, he would always choose to be what they wanted.

Veronica didn't understand why she had kissed him, or why he had kissed her back for that matter. But her final resolve as she got out of the shower and wrapped a bathrobe around her was that she wouldn't let him get to her again. There was something far too scary about someone having so much power over her.

She walked into her bedroom and began to brush her hair into long, wet tendrils. The rain pattered against the window pane and kept her from realizing for a few moments that someone was knocking at the door.

Quietly, she crept out from her room and saw the shadow outside, recognizing it immediately. She muttered an apology to her father under her breath and walked towards the door, gingerly cracking it open.

"My dad did it," he said simply, looking down at his shoes. The rain whipped across his face and he winced under the heavy pressure of the water.

Veronica wordlessly opened the door wider and stepped aside as he cautiously made his way inside. She leaned against the wall by the doorframe as he closed it shut. The downpour outside seemed suddenly distant.

Tentatively, he raised his hand to her face, gently stroking the curve of her jaw line, patiently making his way lower until he reached the end of her neck and his fingers began to dip into the close of her robe. He heard a sharp intake of breath and stopped, his eyes popping upward to meet hers, tilting apologetically.

The sides of the robe began to gradually part as he realized that she had untied it, and then he saw the flash of her dewy, hazy glow into the darkness.

He looked again into her eyes and with a gulp and a slight nod, she conceded, and his fingers again resumed their gentle traipse downward. Her skin felt plump and damp from the warm moisture of her shower and he relished in the shaky rise and fall of her buttery belly as his touch quickened her breath. The tips of his fingers felt icy cold, dripping with rainwater as if he were melting with her touch. He felt his way between her legs and the ice slipping surreptitiously inside sent a shock up her spine and she gasped, her back arching in reflex.

He pulled her closer and trailed slowly along the walls until he found her pulse point, and provoked it so that she tucked her face in his wet neck to let out the scream bubbling up her throat with the burst of energy and the pleasure she didn't recognize, until her body fell limp into his arms. They remained static for a moment as she realized how his fingers now felt searing hot, as if the ice were turned into coal by her own warmth.

He retreated his hands and used them to lift her legs and wrap them around his waist as he carried her to her bedroom, tossing her body on the bed as he fell atop her. He paused briefly to remove his clothing and she bit her lip as she saw his silhouette shuffling in the dark until she felt a pair of hips land on hers and felt him grinding down until something was digging inside her.

Another wave of shock sparked along her skin and she gasped again, bracing herself.

(-) 00 (-)

Veronica Mars absolutely hates to lose her composure.

She hates it when she doesn't have a comeback for me, and she hates when she comes for me.

And she's never, ever fallen asleep after.

Usually by now, she would be halfway out the door, her cheeks all red, giving away her cool and collected exterior. But now she's fallen into an exhausted slumber and I'm feeling jittery and nervous, watching her sleep.

I get up, slip on my boxers and head to the bathroom to wash my face with cold water. Her even breathing is all I hear when I walk back into my room pull out my pack of cigarettes from my jeans. I go out and pick up her clothes to put them in the washing machine and start wandering aimlessly around my house.