Title: In the Name of Try
Author: StarCrossdSparrow
Pairing/Characters: Veronica/Duncan, Veronica/Logan
Rating: NC-17
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: 4257
Disclaimer: RT is the master of all things "Veronica Mars." I'll put everyone back when I'm done, so please don't sue.
Spoilers: 2x01 "Normal is the Watchword"
Summary: Logan is always on Veronica's mind. And, she's suddenly on his yacht. Smutty good times! That's your last warning, kids.
Author's Note: Written for the "Anchor's Away Smutathon" at LJ's vmlibrary. Muchas gracias to my beta, rejeneration from LJ !! Without her, this fic would be all washed up! Hey! Where's my rim shot? That was comic gold!
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"You're not having fun," Duncan grumped. Veronica knew he was trying not to whine, but it wasn't working. He was upset with her.
Still, even though Veronica was definitely not into golf, she was really trying not to show it. They'd only recently gotten back together and were still trying to navigate out from under that big grey cloud that seemed to rain "something is wrong here!" down on them at every turn.
Not to mention the bus crash that had killed some of their classmates and had come thisclose to killing them, too. And the fact that she'd dated his best friend and roommate only months before. Tensions weren't boiling over yet, but the bubbles were rising.
So, in the name of trying, Veronica put on a brave face and swung her club jauntily. "I am! I mean, I just hit the ball all the way over by that tree! Good times are being had by all," she chirped, pointing towards said tree. Which, if she was really being honest wasn't "all the way over" anywhere; it was more like half a football field away. She consoled herself by thinking that if she'd been playing that sport, the crowd would be cheering for her. Instead, the crowd of one was jutting out his lower lip in a way oddly reminiscent of his sister, Lilly, when Daddy Kane had taken her black AmEx away.
As they walked across the meticulously manicured green, Logan's face sped through Veronica's mind. Okay, it didn't speed; it more rolled through at about ten miles per hour and parked.
"I think it went in," Duncan said, interrupting her Logan-shaped thoughts.
Veronica spun, trying not to appear guilty. "In?" She stifled the urge to giggle. Duncan had said the very same thing the night before, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate the reminder. It hadn't been a proud moment for him.
"The trees," he replied, a little impatiently. He gestured toward the copse of elms separating their fairway from another. "You'll have to get it."
"Great. Now golfing has become a nature hike," Veronica thought darkly.
"Okay," she answered, all faux cheer, "I'll be right back." At least her mouth was defying her brain. She was happy to get away from the scorching sun for a moment. And, if she were being perfectly honest, she was also glad to escape Duncan's scowl as well. Golf had not been a good choice.
She poked a Niked foot through the underbrush, staring down intently, in search of the infernal dimpled white ball. She was rather enjoying the hushed twitter of a bird and the gentler light in the dense press of trees when a man's voice startled her. "Lose something?"
She jumped and turned, wholly unused to being caught off-guard. "Who's there?"
A masculine chuckle came back in answer and Veronica followed the sound. Logan was standing a few yards from her, leaning nonchalantly on a nine iron and toeing a nest from which to hit his own ball. He was half-hidden in the shadow of an ancient elm, but Veronica could see him well enough to have the breath torn from her lungs.
He wore a blue and white striped polo and khaki shorts. In the shadows, he looked incredibly tan and lean. He looked good and he knew it, his smug smile a testament, as he held her ball aloft. "I asked if you'd lost something."
Veronica recovered quickly and walked toward him, carefully avoiding tangled weeds and other scrub afoot. "I might have," she answered sweetly, holding out her hand for the object.
He dropped it onto the ground and it rolled against the long grass, knocking into his own ball. "Play it where it falls, Mars. Club rules." She watched him sized her up, taking in her soft green polo and white shorts. Shorts that even she considered to be indecently short. Logan liked indecency. He smirked at her before finishing,"Of course, you probably didn't know that, the club being members only and all."
Veronica raised an eyebrow at him, "Duncan just told me about a vote to have the offspring of murderers ineligible for membership renewal," she smiled with mock concern, "Lucky for you, it didn't pass. If you'll excuse me." She didn't miss the dark look that crossed his face as she made to occupy the same space he was currently residing.
Logan stepped back a mere foot, still close enough to her to smell her shampoo and study the small tendrils of hair that escaped her ponytail and curled wetly to the nape of her beet-red neck. He watched as she lined up her shot. Her hips wiggled and Logan was sure she hadn't meant for them to, but the effect on him, however unintentional, was immediate.
She raised her club, taking aim. Logan noticed right away that her hands were too far apart and she was clinging to the club as though it were a life preserver rather than an instrument. "Stop."
His command came just as Veronica swung the seven iron. She hit the ground short of the ball and the impact made her arms twitch. She whirled on Logan. "What in the hell was that? I was about to take the shot!"
Logan snorted a laugh. "Yeah. It would have proceeded to roll thirteen inches further into the grass and you'd be in here all day. Unless that's your goal." He shot a look toward the edge of the trees. Duncan was a good twenty yards away, arms folded, looking very put out.
Veronica opened and closed her mouth. She shouldn't be shocked at how well Logan saw through her, but she was.
Logan jumped on her silence, effectively eliminating the need for an answer. "You've got to pull your hands in tighter. It's not like a baseball bat. The control is in your wrists, not your forearms."
Veronica slid her hands tighter together on the club, briefly considering controlling it right into Logan's cocky grin. She told him as much.
He rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Veronica. I'm just trying to help. It'll get you off the course quicker." He crouched and removed his ball to clear her shot. When he stood, he resumed his position behind her and said, "Try it again."
As Veronica realigned herself for the shot, Logan couldn't resist slipping his arms around her arms and placing his larger hands over hers. Her shoulders were flush with his chest and his cheek was scant inches from hers. She stiffened at his touch, but didn't step out of it. "What do you think you're doing, Logan?" The question came out as a harsh whisper.
Logan chucked lightly against her ear. "Helping," he growled. He waited a beat, giving the opportunity to step out of his light grasp. When she didn't, he guided her arms up and behind him. When she tried to twist with the motion, Logan stayed her hips with his hands. The intimate touch caused Veronica to suck in a breath. Logan was exactly immune either. "Hold it there," he ordered.
He stepped back, studying her body with the pretense of checking her form. "Nice," he breathed. He shook his head, noting that Duncan was well within sight. "Go ahead. And follow it through."
Relaxing her shoulders slightly, Veronica brought the club down in a perfect arc. The head connected and the ball flew through the trees and sailed toward the green. Veronica watched, stunned before turning toward Logan with a smile. "Thanks."
They each held the other's gaze for a long moment before Veronica was startled by Duncan's clapping. "That was great, babe!" He was beaming at her and it took him a moment to notice Logan. "Oh, hey, man," Duncan greeted him with a grin, "Did you see that shot? Best she's done all day!"
Logan lifted an eyebrow in Veronica's direction, "Yeah. I saw it."
Veronica stepped toward Duncan and took his hand with a false smile, "Yeah, well, let's keep going while I'm on a roll, then."
Duncan nodded and bid goodbye to his friend.
"See you tonight?" Logan asked as they were about to step back into the sunlight.
Duncan nodded, "Yeah, we're coming."
Veronica didn't see Logan's grin because she was busy gaping up at her boyfriend. "'We?' As in us? Where are we going with him?"
Duncan had the good sense to look guilty. "Oh, I thought I told you." He climbed into the golf cart and waited for Veronica to tell him what he knew was obvious.
"You didn't mention anything."
"Well, Logan's having this thing on his yacht. He's rechristening it or something. I told him we'd show."
Veronica splayed her hands, "Why? It's just going to be a bunch of his friends finding an excuse to get hammered."
Duncan's jaw tensed. "Well, Veronica, I am one of Logan's friends. And those friends also happen to be my friends as well. It wasn't too long ago that they were your friends, too. These things are going to come up if we're going to be together."
She made no reply. Instead, Veronica settled back against the plastic seat, glad that they were on their way to the ninth hole and even happier that they hadn't played all eighteen.
"It's okay. We don't have to go," Duncan placated flatly as he parked the cart. He said it in that tone that clearly suggested that not going to Logan's little bash-on-a-boat would be slightly less than "okay."
Veronica couldn't manage even a faux smile but, as she grabbed her putter, she planted a kiss on his cheek. "We'll go. But, I can't stay for too long. I don't want to be responsible for a death at sea."
Duncan nodded, "No problem. It's just going to be docked at the marina, so we can pop in, make our presence known, and skip out before Dick taps the pig. Maybe catch a late movie?"
Veronica's smile was sincere. She recognized the concession as Duncan's way of making things work. As she watched his ball roll into the final hole, she didn't even begrudge him the victory dance he deserved.
XxXxXxX
Veronica nearly had to pull the whole bait-and-switch routine with her wardrobe choice, but luckily, Keith had gone out while she was getting ready. Veronica knew that if she was going to an 09er party, she had to look fierce. And fiercely sexy.
She donned a denim mini, a relic from her partying days with Lilly. It had a distressed look to it and that was the only reason she hadn't donated it along with the rest of her "Old Veronica" clothes. To that, she added a simple black cotton tank top with just enough edge that she would feel justified in punching anyone who messed with her. A few well placed accessories, shiny hair, and careful makeup, and Veronica knew she could pass for Old Veronica's evil twin. Her fiercely sexy evil twin.
She left her dad a note with a very vague outline of her plans and whereabouts and drove herself to the Grand to meet Duncan. His reaction to the outfit had been nothing short of a wolf whistle and steam coming out of his ears, so Veronica knew she'd kill at Logan's little soirée.
By the time they arrived at the marina, the party looked like it was already in full swing. Chinese lanterns were strung about the exposed deck and around thirty of the same people who had all but spit on her the past year were drinking and chatting, oblivious to her.
Veronica gulped down a big breath of thank you as Duncan led her toward the bar. Being ignored was her preferred reaction. She was used to open scorn, but it did wear after awhile. But, what was even worse, since she'd started dating Duncan, some of the 09er set had actually tried to chat her up, as if the whole year previous hadn't happened. Being ignored was a vast improvement over either of the other choices. And, aside from that, Veronica had to concentrate on not getting sick from the constant rocking.
Duncan placed a red glass into Veronica's hand and she smelled it suspiciously. He chuckled, "I hope the Sprite is to your liking."
"Sprite? That's all?"
Duncan smiled, "Well, I didn't want to get you all liquored up and then have to carry you off the yacht. I'd like you coherent for later." Duncan inspected her for a moment, "And, besides, you're already looking a tad green. I don't want all that lasagna I fed you this afternoon on my shoes."
Veronica smiled wryly and sipped the beverage gratefully. "I'll be fine in a few minutes. Just have to get used to," Veronica stumbled slightly before righting herself on the railing, "the rocking."
Duncan glanced over her shoulder and grinned. "Hey, can you hold your own for a minute? I've just got to see this book that Caz has been bragging about. Apparently, Mr. Truman brought back some serious contraband from his last trip to TJ."
Veronica wrinkled her nose, "I really don't want to know. You run along. And, don't worry about me. I am one with the boat."
Duncan dropped an absent kiss on her forehead and walked toward the other guys. As Veronica was grasping the rail and concentrating on how flat the water looked rather than on the sway of the floor beneath her feet, she felt a presence at her elbow.
"How'd the rest of your game go?" Logan asked, looming over her with a broad grin. "Did my lesson help?" Somehow, the word lesson, spoken on the cusp of Logan's leer, did not sound like the sort of thing she received at school. Logan had a knack for turning any word into an innuendo. However, in this instance, he wasn't doing it merely for effect.
"Fine. That was the last hole. Yours?" Veronica closed her eyes on the sudden wave of nausea that threatened. She set the cup on the bar. Liquids were not a good idea.
"I won. Naturally," Logan answered, his cocky grin fading as he watched her. "You all right?"
Veronica clamped her mouth shut and breathed through her nose for a moment.
"I'll take that as a no. Come on, I've got some Dramamine downstairs. And it'll be better for all of us if you're nearer to the head."
"Head?" she hiccuped the word as she followed him shakily.
He reached his arms out to catch her as the steps confounded her momentarily. "That's the nautical term for the bathroom."
"Oh." Veronica sat heavily in the well-appointed stateroom that Logan led her to. She didn't have time to appreciate the luxury before she ducked her head between her legs and began to breathe deeply.
Logan rattled around in the cupboards before finally crouching in front of her with a bottle of water and two capsules.
"Thanks," she mumbled as she took the pills.
"Usually people don't get sick until I actually sail," Logan noted, quietly watching her from his place on the floor.
Veronica watched him. His pupils were dilated and his cheeks were flushed. He'd been drinking, she was sure, but he sounded stone sober. "You callin' me unusual, Echolls?" she quipped, soothed by the comfort and stability of the couch and the cabin and the fact she could no longer see that water.
Logan quirked an eyebrow, "You trying to tell me you're not?"
Veronica shook her head, slowly. "No, just trying to find what page you're on."
He nodded and stood abruptly, moving to a small refrigerator to withdraw a bottle of Chasselas. He poured a single glass and returned to her, placing it in her shaking hand. "Drink it."
Veronica stared at the white wine. "Trying to ply me with liquor now? I didn't think that was your style."
Logan grinned as he sat next to her on the sofa. "While I'm very interested in seeing what you think my 'style' is, this should calm your nerves some. And, along with the Dramamine, you'll be less likely to throw up on my yacht."
Veronica swirled the glass speculatively. "I think I'll pass on mixing alcohol with pills, thanks."
She made to hand it back, but he disarmed her with another smile. "Is that it? Or are you afraid of mixing alcohol with me?" He leaned close then and inspected her without leering. "I've heard I'm quite intoxicating on my own."
His breath smelled like Juicy Fruit but he wasn't chewing gum. Veronica caught herself before she leaned into him, sipping the wine. She forced down a grimace at the light alcoholic taste, but was refreshed, nonetheless.
Logan threw an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers so close to her bare shoulder, she almost felt them. A chill skittered down her back and she felt too aware of his nearness. She gulped more wine.
"Easy, tiger. I don't want to have to peel you off of my floor," Logan chided, reaching for the empty glass.
Veronica handed it over, careful not to let her fingers brush his. "Thanks for the pills, Logan. I'm going to go back up." At his patient stare, she added, "Duncan will be looking for me." Even having said the words, she made no move to stand. Instead, she crossed her legs and tugged her skirt down as far as it would go. She was all too aware of the expanse of leg that was rubbing against the plush upholstery. She knew if she could feel the couch on her ass, Logan could see nearly that much.
Logan contemplated her without comment. He'd changed his clothes since she'd seen him at the golf course. His cheeks and nose were tinged pink from the sun and whatever he'd had to drink. The fact that she was even noticing made Veronica's own cheeks burn.
"You can go whenever you want," he answered. He sounded so assured she wouldn't leave, she almost left to spite him.
Logan seemed to watch her mentally reject the idea. He fought back a grin and let his fingers dip to her neck. She tensed but didn't push him away. "Veronica," he breathed. He hadn't meant for her name to sound like a moan, but it did. And before he could recant, she was smothering him with her lips.
He returned her hot kisses with fervor. They pressed into one another with an intensity they hadn't ever possessed the previous school year when they'd been sequestered to the backseat of his car and stolen moments in the girl's restroom. He dragged her into his lap and she straddled him without thinking.
His left hand found her naked thigh, felt the denim ruck up to her waist. He groaned against her mouth as her hands lifted the hem of his shirt. They parted as the garment was lifted away, but joined again as soon as they cast it away.
The play of her rocking in his lap and her cotton covered chest rubbing against his was too much to process. Logan wrapped his arms around her and pressed her back down into the cushions, taking the time to collect his thoughts. Taking her right then would have been easy, but he was going to do this so she'd never forget it.
Veronica stopped thinking altogether and let Logan's lips possess her. Thoughts of Duncan and the other party-goers slid away as she let Logan lay her back on the couch, and kiss a path from her lips to her earlobe to the hollow of her throat. As his hot mouth trailed further south and he lifted her shirt to suckle her, her head shot up in surprise, "Logan!"
He looked up at her, with a lazy grin, "Not good?"
Veronica let go of a strangled laugh and fell back against the cushions. "Very good," she panted.
Logan took up his position at her breasts, teasing and tormenting with his lips and teeth, reveling in her occasional gasps. He worked his hand down her flat tummy and found her panties soaked. He grinned, tracing circles on the inside of her thigh as he rose over her and resumed kissing her mouth and jaw. "Hot for this, aren't you?" he teased.
Huskily, she replied. "Less talking."
"Say please."
She groaned and for a moment, he was afraid he'd pushed her too far. But she wriggled against him and gasped, "Please, Logan. Touch me!"
Her simple command nearly did him in. He drew a ragged breath as he complied, sliding her panties down her legs until they wound up at her knees. Carefully, he slid one finger, then two into her soft folds. She was so tight he cried out at the feel of her around him.
She whimpered and he looked up at her, momentarily concerned that maybe he'd hurt her. Instead, her head was thrown back and she was pulling at one nipple, only partially exposed between her tank top and bra. The sight emboldened him and he thumbed her clit. She rocked against him, liquid heat emanating from her center in response to her touch. She called his name, something between and plea and moan.
Logan grinned and continued his assault on her senses by dropping to his knees in front of her and taking her into his mouth. She arched as his tongue laved every bit of her. He suckled her and laved her clit, coaxing her with his mouth and hands until he felt her trembling beneath him. He sat up and watched her as he reached his fingers inside her and beckoned.
Her hips jerked and her eyes flew open. She gasped his name, mingling it with a smattering of "Oh Gods" and "Oh yeses." The sight and sounds of her orgasm was almost enough to bring about his own. He couldn't wait to have her wrapped around him.
As Veronica's spasms finally subsided she fixed Logan with a devilish grin. She climbed onto his lap, wordlessly, and began her own torment, kissing and nibbling her way from his lips to the waistband of his jeans. Logan watched silently as she finally pulled her top completely off and the bra fell the same way. He throbbed against his shorts as she unbuttoned them with a smug smile.
As she tugged them down, along with his boxers, she licked her lips and he knew her intentions instantly. "Tha- that's not a good idea," he informed her tremulously.
She grinned up at him, her eyes full of the lust and greed, Logan's favorites of the seven deadly sins. "Say please."
Logan expelled a ragged breath and reached down for her. She backed away. "Say please, Logan," she teased, running her fingers from the base of his cock to the head. It jumped in her hand, already pearling at the tip.
He gasped, "Please."
She dipped her head as he watched, catching him in her mouth before bobbing down, then swirling her tongue around him and swiveling a mischievous hand as she came back up. Logan choked, using every last reserve of energy he had not to finish in her hot mouth.
She stopped then, with a wicked smile and climbed into his lap.
"You didn't say it fast enough," she explained, kissing him.
He pushed her back and studied her. "Oh, you're about to see fast," he growled.
Before she could retaliate, he lifted her hips and slid her down along his erection. She squealed and tilted her head back as he bottomed out inside her. He groaned and fell heavily against her chest. A moment passed as she grew accustomed to his size. She ground her hips into his, experimentally and he gasped out her name.
She laughed and bracing herself against him, rode him hard and fast until he was almost at his breaking point. She was panting furiously and trembling once again when Logan caught her and laid her back against the cushions. Automatically, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him close.
Logan couldn't concentrate with Veronica wrapped around him, so he just held her tight and gave her every ounce of strength he left. They were frenzied and finally, he felt her bite his shoulder and claw his back. He buried himself deep in her one last time before letting go. The world disappeared for a moment and all he saw was her blonde hair splayed on the navy cushions.
When they finally drew apart, she was surprised to find that she was unashamed and Logan wasn't gloating. Instead, he was watching her tenderly. He stroked her cheek with one hand and breathed, "What now?"
Veronica closed her eyes to the question and wrapped her arms around him. "Now, we hide."
Logan sighed, but held her close. They always had to hide.
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