VM Fic: "Getcha, Getcha, Getcha, Getcha" (NC-17) - Logan/Veronica

Title: "Getcha, Getcha, Getcha, Getcha"
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: Logan/Veronica
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5,436
Spoilers/Warnings: Set in college, but no real spoilers for...er, anything. Except snark. And pr0n.
Summary: Veronica and Logan prank each other. Really, it's shameless the way they flirt... College!fic and college!smut.
Notes: Written for the Prank Challenge at loveathons.

Getcha, Getcha, Getcha, Getcha
by Kantayra


There were really only so many things a girl could put up with.

Veronica considered herself a patient, rational, even-tempered person. The fact that certain other people would laugh at her self-assessment was entirely moot. Because what did he know about her anyway?

But, in any case, Veronica had put up with quite a lot in her twenty years on this planet. More than most people ever had to. She’d learned to accept all forms of assholishness, resigned herself to the fact that they were inevitable.

However, watching Logan Echolls, smooth and polished in his suit for his final presentation today, cocky smirk in place, and overly-flirty body moving so very carefully inward on the two blonde freshmen he had in his sights, was just more jackholery from her re-re-re-ex-boyfriend than any girl should have to bear.

Her eyes narrowed for one moment, concentrating all her fury on that permanent irritation in her side before she gave Steve a polite smile, asked him to hold her notebooks for a second, and set off to right this great imbalance in the universe.

Logan was doing that whole…adorable thing when she approached. Head ducked, hand scratching behind his ear, cute little smile. Wearing the suit on top of everything? He was well-nigh irresistible. She was amazed the freshmen’s panties hadn’t fallen to the floor with a wet ‘thunk’. Thankfully, she was now thoroughly immune to all of his charms. Nothing he could do would affect her in the slightest, nosiree.

“So, yeah.” Logan was mumbling. That soulful, puppy-eyed mumbling that had gotten her into his bed more than once in the past, back when she’d still been tempted by him, of course. Which she wasn’t now. Just to be clear. “There’s this party at my place this weekend, and—”

Veronica cut him off with a pointed tap to his shoulder, mid-pick-up line.

He started and moved to turn around to see who was behind him, but she cut him off by getting up on her tippytoes and whispering sensuously in his ear:

“Last night, I dreamed that I let you fuck me.” A pregnant pause. “In the ass.”

She watched with glee as Logan’s entire body turned rigid (including, presumably, parts she couldn’t see), and she made her dash back to the safety of the students who weren’t presenting today, self-satisfied grin in place.

Watching Logan Echolls, in stunned sexual arousal, wander aimlessly away from the freshmen just inspired more wicked cackling.

As did watching Logan’s eyes suddenly glaze over, mid-final presentation, when she squirmed pointedly in her seat in the audience, like her butt was just so very uncomfortable in that position.

As did his muttered “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Bitch” as he stalked past her out of class that day.

Veronica Mars: 1. Logan Echolls: 0.

It was a good day.

***

Logan just smiled and raised his eyebrows in pure innocence as he took his seat in class the next day. He watched Veronica scowl as she looked up at him briefly from where she was working out the final details of her presentation with that beard she kept around her in order to pretend that she didn’t want him instead.

Oh, yes. Veronica Mars knew that revenge was in order; she just didn’t know what form it would take.

He settled himself back comfortably in his seat, hands steepled on the desk before him in pure, angelic virtue.

Veronica glanced up again, suspiciously.

The way she was riled up in anticipation, he’d barely have to do anything. Perfect.

“If Veronica and Steven are ready to begin?” Professor Rourke asked.

Veronica coughed pointedly and stepped up to the podium, clicking on the first slide of their PowerPoint presentation. Showtime.

With deliberate slowness, Logan reached into the book bag beside him and carefully removed one cherry Tootsie Roll pop. On stage, Veronica hesitated in her introduction for only a moment before continuing on stalwartly. But she knew now, what he was going to do…

Methodically, he opened the wrapper, looking as disinterested as he possibly could as she stood aside to let her partner give his half of the presentation. If it weren’t for the fact that she was glaring pointedly at him from the sidelines, one might almost believe that nothing was wrong.

Giving her a cheeky little wink, he flicked his tongue out to wrap around the candy, pulled it into his mouth, and then sucked.

An almost agonized whimper could just barely be heard from the stage.

Heartened, he took the candy deeper into his mouth, let the sweetness roll around on his tongue, and made damned sure that every ecstatic emotion was catalogued perfectly on his face for all the world to see.

Veronica was biting her lower lip hard now, but she hadn’t seemed to figure out that she could just close her eyes and look away. Which, of course, meant that deep down inside she didn’t want to look away…

He let a little murmur of satisfaction grumble through his chest as he continued to suck and lap at the lollipop as if it were a treat he’d been denied for – oh, say – about four months exactly now.

On stage, Steve had finished his half of the presentation; Veronica hadn’t noticed.

“Ahem. Veronica?” Professor Rourke reminded her.

Veronica’s gaze turned to their teacher dazedly. “Huh?”

“Your turn,” Rourke pointed out.

“Oh. Right.”

Logan grinned and offered the lollipop up in salute, mouthing “your turn” to her as well. He most wholeheartedly concurred with Professor Rourke’s statement. And, given the way Veronica’s entire body flushed from the roots of her hair to where the low cut of her blouse exposed her lack of cleavage, Logan was pretty damn sure that she’d much rather be next in line after his sucker than in the line to give presentations.

Offering her one last enthusiastic popping suck, he sat back smugly to watch a thoroughly aroused Veronica pretend like nothing was amiss. God, he loved her like this. Cheeks red, body hot, heart pounding… And, if he couldn’t have it up close, watching her stand before him and try to explain the charts in her presentation would have to suffice.

At the end of class, she stalked up to him, danger flashing in her eyes. “That was the most original thing you could come up with?” she bit out.

He shrugged and grinned. What worked, worked.

Her entire body shook with rage as she turned to storm off.

“Oh, Veronica?” he called after her.

She froze for a moment, but refused to turn around.

“For future reference, it takes fifty-two long, slow licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.”

And she ran off with a screech of indignation.

Chuckling to himself, he packed up his own bag to go.

Logan Echolls: 1. Veronica Mars: 1. All tied up.

***

It wasn’t even a matter or right or wrong anymore. It was a matter of revenge. And, with only one final paper remaining, she’d had plenty of procrastination time to plan that revenge.

Eyes narrowed in on her target, just waiting for her sweet, sweet victory to be revealed…

Not yet…

Not yet…

Now.

“Oh god… Logan!”

Logan mumbled out something in response and pulled back from the throat of the bimbo he’d been pleasuring so very fully. Veronica gritted her teeth as the redhead stroked her hands down Logan’s bare chest to hook her thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them slowly down.

“Now, baby, please?”

God, where did Logan find these flakes, anyway? She just rolled her eyes at him. It was so clear what he was doing. Poor ickle Logan had entered his ‘Woe! Nobody loves me!’ phase. Due to the fact that he was completely brain-dead about all matters concerning sex, he would, of course, try to resolve this issue by fucking random bimbos. The logic behind it, as far as she could tell was: ‘Woe, nobody loves me…therefore, I’ll fuck a tramp so I won’t be alone…Gasp! She left me the morning after?...Woe, this proves that nobody loves me!’ It was a never-ending cycle of idiocy, really.

Onscreen, Logan had that self-assured little smile on his face that she hated so very much. He reached over for his bedside dresser drawer, and…

Frowned.

Dug deeper.

Frowned further.

Crawled off of Barbie Bimbo to open the drawer fully and search it more thoroughly for the nice, big Trojan box he usually kept there.

“Hurry up, baby,” Bimbo demanded impatiently.

Veronica bit her lip, waiting for Logan to find it…

Victoriously, she watched him find the box she’d shoved all the way to the back of the drawer. Relief shone in his eyes for just one instant, and then…

“What the fuck?”

“Mmm, what is it?” Bimbo asked curiously.

There were no condoms in the box, of course. Veronica had appropriated them for her own personal use, in partial repayment for what a jerk he’d been to her over the years.

Logan offered Bimbo a helpless shrug. And, with a disgusted roll of her eyes, she stalked off. Good to know that bimbos were serious about protection these days.

But leaving Logan Echolls very hard and very alone wasn’t the coup de grace of this little stunt. Oh no…

The little note – “Smile! You’re on candid camera!” – was what had him grinding his teeth.

Veronica slipped out of Casey’s room, which she’d thoroughly taken over for this little adventure while her friend was already in Aspen for break, caught Logan’s door as Bimbo tramped her way out (both figuratively, and literally), and centered her shot.

“Cheese!” she offered perkily.

Logan turned, in all his naked glory, just in time to be blinded by the flash of her camera.

“Just what I need for my photography final!” she announced happily. “The love, the loss, the pathos!” She gave him an insincere little smile.

And then fled, slamming his door shut behind her.

He was after her in only a few seconds, though, still clad in nothing but pure Echolls, bursting into the hallway.

It was empty, of course, and he had no way of knowing that she’d ducked back into Casey’s room. He seemed to quickly reach the conclusion that she’d fled the building and, also, that he couldn’t chase after her while completely butt naked.

Veronica watched him, via the video camera she’d snuck onto his dresser, as he let out a howl of fury and slammed the door closed behind him. Angry eyes flashed, and he searched his room. He found the camera almost instantly; she hadn’t really bothered to hide it.

“Jealous little snoop,” he grumbled as he removed the device and threw it to the floor.

Snow filled her surveillance screen, lamentably ending her view of his rather scrumptious body.

But, no matter. Everyone knew that the photography year-end projects were displayed in the main hall of Henrick throughout the entire school year. Next year, she’d have a nice view of that body every time she walked into one of her arts classes. Just in case she needed any more motivation to pick photography as her major.

And, oh yeah:

Veronica Mars: 2. Logan Echolls: 1.

***

That insufferable, self-righteous little bitch was just asking for it.

Logan popped his knuckles, one by one, as he waited for her to walk into his trap. Now, in most situations, he wasn’t what one would call a planning type of guy. Making her moan out his name in ecstasy was usually revenge enough. But this time was different.

This time, she’d put his Full Monty up on display before the entire student body. She could go after him all she wanted, fine. But she did not go after Big Lebowski. No way, no how.

He lounged back against the arch over the door next door and watched Veronica shuffle the boxes in her arms. Dorm time spring cleaning, that joyous time of year when all students were booted from their temporary homes and had to make mad dashes to cart everything home. Honestly, if she’d just agreed to move in with him, all this hassle could have been alleviated…

He watched and waited as the car pulled up to the curb, a familiar figure stepping out to help her…

With a jaunty bounce to his step, he emerged from the shadows and caught Veronica up from behind in a heated embrace. “Ready to repeat our christening of the football stadium tonight?” he asked, catching her lips in a deep kiss that she never had any choice but to return. His hands slid over her stomach and down in a thoroughly inappropriate gesture, and she hissed in an effort to hide her moan from him. Oh yes, she’d anticipated that he’d use sex against her this time, counted on it, waited for it… She underestimated him like this all the time, really. “My naughty little girl,” he purred against her throat.

She practically melted into him, and he tilted his hips just so, so that anyone who cared to look could see exactly where her naughty hand had gotten itself to. It seemed that, in that case, life imitated art – particularly the current art in Henrick – so very well.

Mission accomplished, he pulled away. “Later, then,” he offered, giving her a quick peck on the nose before dashing off. He offered a quick wave to the onlooker who’d just pulled up. “Mr. Mars.” And fled for his life.

So worth it, though, to watch Veronica’s eyes to snap open in horror when she realized that, yes, her father just had caught that whole wanton show. Even more so when Keith’s face turned bright purple. For a moment, Logan wondered if he’d gone too far and Keith was about to have an apoplectic fit. But then:

“Logan Echolls?! Again? What the earth are you thinking, Veronica?” Keith’s voice bellowed out into the early morning air.

“It’s not like that!” she scrambled to defend herself. “He just…”

Randomly accosted me on the street. And I let him because he’s just that hot and no way could I resist.

Logan chuckled to himself as he saw realization flash over her face at just how absolutely ridiculous the truth sounded.

“I trusted you, Veronica!” Keith continued to rant, shouts evened out to a pace where he could chew her out for hours on end, if need be. “After the last time the two of you got caught, you said it was over. You said…”

With a whistle and a skip, Logan went about on his merry way, Keith’s rage mingling with the sounds of the morning songbirds. Let it never be said that he couldn’t bring out the big guns when his big gun was put on display.

Logan Echolls: 2. Veronica Mars: 2.

***

He wanted to play dirty? Well, fine. She knew how to play dirty.

No elaborate schemes this time, no plots, no set-ups. Just one brutal blow to the balls. Fast and painful. He was the one who had made things that way, not her.

Logan was lounging about on the quad with several of the guys from the house. It didn’t matter who. There were enough. And there were at least two dozen other witnesses on the quad. It was all she needed.

Bringing up very fake tears into her eyes and very not-fake rage, she stalked right up to him. “How could you?” she sobbed.

Momentary guilt flashed across his face, and it was clear he thought this was about the stunt he’d pulled with her dad this morning. The poor boy really was a hopeless romantic…

“I thought you wanted me!” she continued to shriek with a waver of false hysteria in her voice. The entire quad was staring at them now. Good. “You and your…your boyfriend said you liked girls! I thought it was going to be the three of us!”

Logan’s eyes widened in sudden understanding that, oh yes, she really was going to fuck him over this way.

“What’s the matter, Logan?” she screeched loudly enough that no one could possibly miss it. “What do you see in Lance that you don’t see in me? Is it because I can’t fuck you like he does? I thought you loved me. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to love a woman!” She let out a wail of agony.

Logan’s expression looked rather like a fish caught at the end of the hook. Lots of disbelieving gaping, and a little wince of ‘she wouldn’t, would she?’

“I just can’t compete with your homosexual boyfriend, can I?” she announced for all the world to hear.

Oh, she so would.

Snickers were sounding all around them, and quite a few jaws were dropped.

“You just don’t like pussy! There’s no point in even trying to compete. And, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be your beard anymore!”

All out laughter now was surrounding them now, and she heard a whispered “Busted!” from one of the guys in her bio class.

“It’s over, Logan,” she sniffled over-dramatically. “Go back to Lance, and leave me out of it.”

He stared up at her in stunned horror. And, she thought, a little bit of awe. Maybe even a little bit of aroused awe. And that was just disturbing.

She leaned in for one moment so that no one else could see and held up two fingers, then pointed at him. Then she held up three fingers and pointed at herself. She gave him a nasty, triumphant little smile, blew him a quick false kiss, and then slipped back into her act.

Covering her face with her hands, she pretended to sob as she fled from him.

She got a few good looks at the nicely horrified homophobic expressions of Logan’s frat-mates as she went.

And he thought he was the one with the acting chops.

***

Even Logan knew that he’d probably gone overboard this time. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and let it never be said that Logan Echolls wasn’t well acquainted with desperation.

He was also well acquainted with one Veronica Mars.

This meant that he knew exactly what she was thinking with that guy Steve. It was along the lines of: ‘He’s so sweet! He’s so nice! He could never possibly make me scream my throat raw while he fucked me right on the hood of my car! Therefore, he is the perfect man!’

Most of the time, Veronica was really smart. About this was the one thing, she was persistently, mind-numbingly stupid.

So, of course, today on the last night before they had to evacuate the dorms, she’d be playing her ‘safe and normal’ act with Steve. After a night of harmless fun together, they’d share a chaste, cardboard kiss at her door, and then Veronica would have some fucktarded ‘epiphany’ that the dull life was the perfect life, and she’d invite dear, old Steve in for a short, uninspired horizontal tango.

In this one thing, Veronica was horribly predictable, and Logan hated it when she was predictable.

Hence, his current measures.

He waited, in the dark, until he could hear her voice drifting through the hallway. She sounded happy in that dull, plastic sort of way that she always sounded when she was dating someone who wasn’t him. And, family history of delusional psychopaths aside, he didn’t think he was imagining the way her smile was always brighter and more genuine in the rare occasions when it was directed at him. Like she only really meant it for him…

Bland, mundane dialogue filtered through the door to her dorm room. Then a few seconds of quiet as Veronica was undoubtedly letting lips claim her own that could, in no way, match hers if she put even a fraction of her passion into them. It was hard as fuck not to yank the door open and remind her how it was really done.

But this payoff would be well worth the wait, and he somehow found the inner strength to keep his cool.

A few murmurs from outside, and then the door opened, and Veronica had her arms wrapped half-heartedly around Steve, and…

She sure as hell hadn’t expected to find Logan, naked and aroused, handcuffed to the head of her bed, with a set of feathers, paddles, chocolate-flavored lube, and bottle of Cheesy-Cheese Cheez Whiz on the bedside table beside him.

“You’re late, honey,” he offered breezily, then frowned. “You brought another friend home?” He let out a put-upon sigh. “Fine, fine, I’ll pop this one’s cherry too, but he’ll have to blow me first. I mean, it’s about time I got something in return, right?”

Veronica’s jaw practically hit the floor.

It was nothing, however, compared to the horror on Steve’s face. “I-I-I…” he stammered, hopelessly terrified. “I didn’t think you meant… Oh, god!” And, oh, did he ever run screaming from the room.

Around this time, Veronica’s shock wore off and she realized exactly how she’d been played.

“Y-You!” she managed to say before her anger started causing her to hyperventilate.

“Moi?” he asked innocently, popping off the trick handcuffs – hell like he was stupid enough to let her tie him down when she was this angry – and sitting up to lean comfortably against the wall by her bed.

“H-How could you?” she finally burst out. “Steve is a nice, normal—”

“Sweet,” he filled in the next adjective at the same time she said it.

“—guy, and he…” She trailed off in outrage once more.

“So, go after him,” Logan offered easily.

Veronica stared at him in disbelief.

“If you really like him that much, go after him,” he repeated. “And I’ll tell him that I was just punking you, and it will all be just fine.” He shrugged like her decision didn’t matter to him, which they both knew was a blatant lie.

Veronica gulped and nodded slowly, and then: “Cheez Whiz, Logan? Seriously?”

He gave her a idiotic grin.

And, at that, she practically threw herself at him.

He moaned in relief as her mouth finally covered his again, her hands tangled in his hair, her body undulating against his hips. Even more so because, god, this time he’d really given her a choice, and she’d finally chosen him while ‘safe and normal’ was waiting just next door. Although it probably helped that he was naked…

“Oh, god…you’re such an ass…” she murmured, kissing her way down the side of his throat.

“You’re such a friggin’ bitch,” he agreed, yanking up her blouse roughly.

She pulled back just long enough to pull it over her head, and then she was back upon him, flesh to flesh this time. “We’re even then. Good.”

He twisted their bodies so that she was underneath him, and she pushed back, and they tumbled to the floor, taking all her bedding with them. It cushioned the fall nicely. They tussled about on the floor, she biting him in every place that made him moan in ecstasy and agony, and he removing her remaining clothes.

A pop of a bra clasp, the rip of a skirt zipper, and some kicking and sliding as her panties finally came off, and they emerged as a tangled mass of naked limbs, her legs wrapped inextricably with his, his fingers tangled deep into her tousled hair, their tongues so far intertwined that he couldn’t imagine a time when they weren’t connected like this.

She was warm and slick where her sex rubbed up against the tip of his cock, and he let a full-blown moan escape his lips at the familiar feel of her body in his arms after far too long apart.

“I’ve missed you so much…” Veronica whispered, a quiet admission as her fingertips trailed almost reverently over one dusky nipple, playing aimlessly with his light chest hair as she did so. “So much…” She leaned in to flick the flat of her tongue over his other nipple, eliciting a low rumble of satisfaction from deep in his chest.

“Me, too…” he murmured back, rubbing his thumb against her clit in a regular circular motion, while his cock tested her opening. “Why did we break up again?”

“Because we’re both morons?” she guessed with a hiss as his cock slid two inches inside of her and then pulled back out.

“We so are,” he agreed, before plunging in again, deeper this time, until she’d taken in half of him. “That feel okay?” he asked, concerned, at where her nails had dug into his arms.

“More!” she gasped out in protest when he moved to pull back again.

It was hard to remember – especially in this current tempting position – that, while she was a tiny little thing, he was well-nigh irresistible and of course she wanted all Echolls, all the time. He told her as much and got a swat in the arm just as his hips thrust all the way inside her.

Her eyes widened, and a startled little “oh!” escaped her lips, as her internal muscles tightened and trembled around him.

With a sound more like an animal’s roar than anything human, he began moving deep inside of her, her channel wrapping around him like a warm, wet glove that was just one size too small. Oh god, she was absolute bliss.

She pulled him down to her, so that their bodies were pressed together completely, and the position slowed his thrusts down, but he felt deeper somehow, like he was in her in every way, and she was in him. Her lips felt like they were everywhere, tasting the salt of his sweat, and soft fingertips alternated with sharp nails, drawing ciphers on his back in time with his long, slow thrusts.

He finally managed to capture her mouth, twined his tongue with hers just as her legs tangled about his, urging him on. “I’m still in love with you,” he whispered breathlessly into her kiss.

Her eyes were dark with want and need. “I know.” Her hands cupped his face and pulled him in for a sweeter kiss this time.

The force of their bodies moving together increased, and each thrust was now drawing a strangled little cry from Veronica’s throat as she clung to him.

“P-Please… Logan…” she gasped out.

Funny, while she was tormenting him, she had no modesty with the punches she threw. But, in bed, she was still embarrassed to ask for what she actually wanted. But he knew anyway, had always known. And, really, what chance in hell did anyone else ever have of giving her what she needed, when they didn’t know her like he did and she couldn’t make herself say it aloud?

One hand slid under her body, pulling her hips into him as he plunged in and out, and her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. His fingers brushed her ass in a passing caress before he found her folds, where he pierced her body, hot and wet. He actually had the lube on the bedside table as a joke, he dimly remembered, but that was far and she needed him now.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, lips brushing her cheek, and then his now-slick fingers slid down, found her puckered rear entrance and pushed in slowly. Index finger first, then his middle finger as well, her favorite little kink…

She let out a startled little yelp, and then relaxed, letting him inside her body in every way. He kissed her deep and hard, distracting her from the latest intrusion, as she began to shake beneath him.

When Veronica Mars came, it was never subtle and never quiet. A shriek like a banshee escaped her lips, and her body arched upward, nearly bucking him right off of her. Trembling beneath him, her wide eyes stared up into his in complete bliss, while her internal muscles throbbed and pulsed all around him.

No man alive could hold out for more than a few seconds like that. And Logan was really sick of denying his pleasure.

He came with a strangled gasp, lips pressed sloppily against her collarbone. Her inner muscles continued to milk him, taking him for everything he had, leaving him spent and defeated and completely vulnerable in her arms.

It was the most wonderful and most terrifying feeling in the whole world, all at the same time.

More on the wonderful end of the spectrum, though, when they came down, and it was clear that the aftermath had left her soft and affectionate against him, rather than pissed off. Her fingers stroked through his hair gently, caressing him like he was something precious to her, never to be let go…

“God, since when did I turn into such a sap after sex?” he grumbled to himself.

“You’re always a sap after sex, baby,” she reminded him, leaning in to press a lazy kiss against his temple.

“Mmm…” he murmured in sleepy agreement. He could have spent the whole night right there, if they weren’t all sticky and… Something niggled at the back of his mind, and then struck him with sharp clarity. “Oh, god!” he realized in horror. “I didn’t—! We didn’t—! Are you—?”

She laughed and pulled him back down to her for a quick kiss. “Relax. I figured out from the last, say, eight or so times we broke up that you have absolutely no common sense when it comes to make-up sex.”

He continued to gape.

“I’m still on the pill,” she offered, reaching up with one index finger to push his jaw closed.

He breathed a sigh of relief and whispered sweet apologies against her neck. It was a nice place to be, really.

“So…” she finally offered with a sigh. “I guess that’s it for me and Steve. And, when the rumors get around, for me and any other man on campus.” She frowned.

“Hey, at least they don’t all think you’re gay!” he retorted. “And an inconsiderate bastard…”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I am most certainly not inconsiderate!” he insisted vehemently. “I believe I just proved that all of five minutes ago, in fact.”

She blushed at what he’d done to her – for her – and couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“So, Mars,” he offered lightly, “I think we both just have to accept that we’ve ruined each other for anyone else.”

“Mmm,” she sighed. “Well, that certainly wasn’t the plan.” She gave him an evil little smile that indicated quite the opposite.

“Does this mean we’re back together?”

“It might as well.” She glared at him from where her head situated itself against his bare chest as they resettled into a more comfortable position. “I mean, somehow my dad found out about us. Before I did, even. So that’s the hard part over, right there.”

Logan grinned to himself. “Let it never be said that I am not a genius.”

She swatted him in the ribs lightly. “I had to hear the whole lecture about how you’re a bad influence. Again!” she protested. “I’ll be lucky if my dad even lets me live in the dorms next year.”

“We could always get an apartment together, like we should have in the first place,” he scolded.

She rolled her eyes up at him. “Please. That argument is so two break-ups ago.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

“It’s not a ‘no’,” she admitted, nuzzling his chest lightly.

“And are we a hot item again?” he persisted.

She let out a lazy, contented sigh. “That was definitely hot,” she agreed.

“Great,” he grinned. “Fabulous.”

“Mmm…indeed…”

“Except…”

“Mmm?”

“Next time, when you want to get back together, do you think you could maybe just come out and say, ‘Oh, Logan! I’m forlorn without your cock inside of me! Take me, you gorgeous he-hunk!’? It’d just be so much easier.” He waggled his eyebrows at her teasingly.

She let out an incredulous snort and squirmed about in his arms, until they were tussling about on the floor again. He was magnanimous, though, and let her pin him a few times even though she was only half his weight. Plus, it gave him the opportunity to watch her breasts bounce above him. He mentally catalogued his preference for their position for Round Two, as he did so.

“Honestly,” she finally concluded, as they settled back into each other again, “what would be the fun in that?”

And, with Veronica Mars over him, naked, cheeks flushed from both sex and fighting, it was hard to argue with her choice of foreplay.



Original post is here.