Fic: Night Visits: Convergence (5/6) [L/R] R/NC-17
- Disclaimers etc. in Part 1.
R/NC-17 for sexual situations
< > indicates thoughts
// // indicates dreams
~ ~ indicates telepathic conversation
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
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
His eyes bored into hers. She couldn't read his expression. He looked
"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.
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
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
"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
"What about Remy?" he countered.
"I already *told* you I don't love him."
"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
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
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
She giggled. "Be right back," she said, rising quickly. "Don't you
"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
"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
"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
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.