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Fic: Night Visits: Convergence (5/6) [L/R] R/NC-17

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  • Victoria P.
    Disclaimers etc. in Part 1. R/NC-17 for sexual situations indicates thoughts // // indicates dreams ~ ~ indicates telepathic conversation Night Visits 5.
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 7, 2000
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      Disclaimers etc. in Part 1.

      R/NC-17 for sexual situations

      < > indicates thoughts
      // // indicates dreams
      ~ ~ indicates telepathic conversation

      Night Visits

      5. Convergence

      She was still stunned by what had happened. She hadn't thought Remy
      cared at all, yet he obviously did.

      She walked into the dark familiarity of her room, intending to think
      some more about what he'd said and done, her hand pressed to her
      still-swollen lips.

      Someone grabbed her roughly and she shrieked. "You have his scent all
      over you," Logan growled. "What the hell happened?"

      She gasped. "Logan! What the hell are you doin' in here?"

      "It's midnight, Marie. Our time to talk. Or did you forget that while
      you were lettin' that prick paw you all over?" He was furious. She
      couldn't see his face, but his voice was low and harsh, little more
      than a growl.

      He pulled her into the tiny bathroom. He had to get the Cajun's smell
      off her -- it was making him irrational. He flicked the light on and
      got a good look at her face. She was flushed and her lips looked like
      they'd been thoroughly kissed. He extended a claw, planning to rip
      the clothes right off her and wash her down himself, when suddenly he
      noticed the fear in her eyes and in her scent. She'd never been
      afraid of him before.

      "Logan, what, what are ya doin'?" Her voice, soft even in anger and
      fear, brought him back to himself. He let her go and sat down heavily
      on the edge of the bathtub, putting his head in his hands.

      "I'm sorry Marie, I don't know what came over me. I was angry,
      jealous even," he mumbled.

      "Jealous?" she breathed, barely able to believe it. "Of Remy? Of the
      fact that maybe I'm getting some happiness that doesn't involve you?
      What? You can follow Jean around like a lost puppy and I'm supposed
      to wait in my room for you like a good little girl?

      "Well, I'm not, Logan, I'm not a little girl anymore. I may not love
      Remy, and he may not love me, but at least I know he *wants* me --
      the whole package, poisoned skin and all.

      "God, how could you be so blind? I waited years for you to notice me,
      to see I'd grown up and to want me. I thought, I thought while you
      were away that you did. Your voice on the phone, some of the things
      you said -- but you came back and it was all about Jean again and I
      was just an annoying kid who hung around, gettin' in the way.

      "You use me when you need someone to talk to, someone who cares, but
      you never give back. You never see that I need you to care for me,
      even if you can't love me the way I love you --" she stopped,
      breathless, terrified that she'd revealed too much, but glad it was
      finally out in the open, that she didn't have to keep it all inside
      anymore.

      His eyes bored into hers. She couldn't read his expression. He looked
      away first.

      "I've been an asshole," he began.

      "Boy howdy!" she interrupted. "Tell me somethin' I don't know." His
      mouth quirked into a half-grin.

      "Let me finish, Marie. I'm sorry. While I was away, I starting
      thinkin' about you more and more." He looked down at his hands. "I
      started dreamin' about you. Good dreams. Sexy dreams." Her eyebrows
      rose in surprise. She knelt down on the tile between his knees,
      resting her hands gently on his thighs.

      "Go on."

      He swallowed, trying to find the right words. He was never much of a
      talker, but he had to make her understand how he felt, and it was
      doubly hard with her kneeling there, so similar to his dreams, yet
      stinking of that red-eyed bastard.

      "I thought at first that it was wrong. You were just a young kid and
      I
      was in love with Jean.

      "But then, while I was away, we started talkin' and every night I
      thought, 'I'm not gonna call her. This is getting too complicated.'
      Because I didn't think you loved me like that -- that you could, you
      know? I knew you had a crush on me before, but you were with Bobby
      when I came back the first time, and I was so wrapped up in wantin'
      Jean, I didn't even think.

      "And then you told me no one ever died from unrequited love, and I
      wondered how you could know, how you could be so smart. I never
      thought --

      "On the road, your voice was like a drug. I'd swear I wasn't gonna
      call, but then something would happen -- a song on the radio, or
      someone wearin' gloves like yours, and I would think, 'I need to talk
      to Marie,' and I would call. And it was so good to hear your voice.
      And then I started thinkin' I could make you love me back, make you
      want me, make all my dreams come true."

      It was the longest speech he'd ever made. Her eyes were filled with
      tears until she noticed-- "Logan, are you blushin'? That's so sweet."

      "Goddamn it, Marie," he growled, embarrassed. "If you ever tell
      anyone, I'll deny it."

      "Oh, no, sugar. I don't want anyone else to see this side of you.
      You're already beatin' the women off with a stick. They find out how
      sweet you are, I'd never get you alone, and I got plans for you." She
      grinned saucily, causing his heart to pound and his blood to race
      away from his brain. She brought him down to earth quickly. "But what
      about Jean?"

      "What about Remy?" he countered.

      "I already *told* you I don't love him."

      "And tonight?"

      "He told me he saw you with -- her, and that he could give me
      something that wasn't all about not havin' someone else, even if it
      wasn't the greatest love of all time, or even love at all, really. I
      was so shocked -- one, that he really cared for me, since I'd always
      thought it was a big game to him, and two, that you'd gone runnin'
      back to Jean, even after all our phone calls and all the nights we
      spent talkin' since you been back.

      "So he kissed me, and I let him, but then he started again with how I
      shouldn't wear your tags, and I wasn't ready to let you go. God, I
      don't think I'll ever be ready to let you go, Logan, even if you
      don't love me."

      He ran a hand down one of the white locks that framed her face; her
      hair protected him as he cupped her cheek. "Jean was, she was a
      fantasy. She's a damned attractive woman, don't get me wrong, but I
      knew I could never have her. Oh, I know if I had tried really hard,
      maybe, but she'd never love me, and she'd have ended up hating me,
      and you'd have hated me, and I'd have lost what little good I'd found.

      "It's much easier to be the one outside, the one with the broken
      heart. It keeps you from havin' to deal with anybody new, keeps you
      from lettin' somebody in and gettin' hurt. And I was so used to not
      lettin' myself get hurt that when I realized I'd already let you in
      -- you crawled under my skin the way you crawled into my trailer," he
      gave a sharp bark of laughter, "and I couldn't have you either. You
      were too young and I couldn't touch you."

      Her face fell, eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Logan. I'll stop botherin'
      you," she said, trying not to cry.

      Hand under her chin, still wrapped in her hair, he raised her head.
      "Open your eyes, Marie. I need you to look at me when I say this."
      She did as he asked, a tear spilling over and down one cheek. Taking
      her scarf in his other hand, he gently wiped the tear away, his eyes
      locked on hers.

      "I love you, Marie, in all the ways a man loves a woman, and you
      could never, ever be a bother. I know you're gettin' the short end of
      the stick if you say you wanna be with me, 'cause I'm no prize. But
      if
      you're willing to give this old man a try, I'll do my damnedest to
      make you happy."

      "Oh, Logan," she whispered, turning her head so she could kiss his
      hand through the scarf. "I love you and I think you're the one
      gettin' a raw deal. There are things we'll never be able to do--"

      "Shh, Marie. We'll figure it out." He grinned rakishly. "I spent my
      time on the road well, kid, thinkin' about ways to get around the
      no-skin business."

      He could tell from the change in her scent and the rapidity of her
      breathing that she was as excited as he was. He looked at the scarf
      he was holding. "Do you have something that doesn't smell like that
      jackass Cajun?"

      She giggled. "Be right back," she said, rising quickly. "Don't you
      move."

      "I ain't goin' nowhere," he promised.

      She went back into the bedroom, flinging the scarf away and tearing
      off her shirt and gloves. She pulled on a sheer blouse with long
      sleeves, a gauzy silk scarf and short cotton gloves.

      "Is that better?" she asked breathlessly. He took in her high breasts
      and flat stomach, visible through the blouse.

      "God, yes," he whispered, running a hand up her side and then pulling
      her down onto his lap.

      He kissed the top of her head, luxuriating in the feel of the soft
      silkiness of her hair. Then he raised the scarf to cover her lips and
      kissed her gently, moistening it with his breath and tongue. She
      opened her mouth eagerly to him and he felt himself get even harder.
      She wriggled slightly and he moaned.

      She broke the kiss. "Logan, let me," she gasped, shifting so she
      straddled him.

      "Oh, Marie," he whispered as he felt her warmth pressing down on him,
      even better than in his dreams, because it was real.

      She captured his mouth again, while her hands worked to unbutton his
      shirt. He caressed her back through the sheer blouse, hands fumbling
      in his eagerness to unhook her bra.

      She gave a frustrated grunt as she opened his shirt and saw the
      T-shirt underneath. He pulled away momentarily to shed both layers,
      allowing her to touch his bare, well-muscled chest. She slid a hand
      down, exploring him, tentatively at first and then more boldly as she
      felt his response.

      His hand fell to the zipper of her jeans. "Take them off," he
      demanded.

      "But, my skin--"

      "Take them off." It was a growl this time.

      She stood and did as he said, a seductive grin overtaking the fear on
      her face. She unzipped with a flourish and then swiveled her hips,
      slowly peeling the jeans down her long legs.

      He thought that next time, he'd have to remember gloves, but the
      T-shirt would work for now. She stood before him in blouse and
      panties, unembarrassed because of the unabashed hunger in his eyes.

      "Lean against the wall," he rasped, slipping off the side of the tub
      and kneeling before her, positioning her legs the way he wanted,
      wrapping the T-shirt around his hand to protect himself. He gently
      and oh-so-carefully pulled at the elastic of her panties, ridding her
      of them and gaining access to what he wanted. Popping a single claw,
      he ripped the T-shirt in half.

      "Logan," she hissed, her hands flat against the wall, "what are you
      doin'?"

      He grinned up at her. "Givin' you the best night of your life,
      darlin'," he said as he placed the remains of the T-shirt over her
      sex, protecting himself from her bare skin.

      With his fingers, lips and tongue, he worked her until she couldn't
      breathe, couldn't stand, couldn't do anything but clutch his hair and
      shoulders and cry out his name as waves of ecstasy rolled through her.

      Then he carefully (always, always carefully) lifted her in his arms,
      still using the T-shirt as a shield, and laid her gently on the bed,
      cradling her to him.

      "What about you?" she asked when she could speak again.

      "We've got all night, baby," he whispered.

      ***
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