Post Partum, NC-17, Logan/Veronica, 15/?
Veronica Mars Fic: Post Partum
Title: Post Partum, Part 15/?
Author: Zaftig_darling
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, Keith
Word Count: 2000
Rating: NC17 (this part) for language and sex
Summary: motherhood changes Veronica
Spoilers: All three seasons
Warnings: adult language, sex
Parts 1 to 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14
Thanks to
vanessagalore for the beta, and for reading this multiple times, and for generally being fabulous.
Veronica stands in the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her shoulders. She is trying to force herself to relax. She has done nothing but sleep and nurse the baby for more than two days. She is beginning to remember what it feels like to be ‘Veronica’ and not only ‘Jonah’s 24 Hour Milk Bar’.
It’s been days (truthfully, she’s not sure how many) since she last took a shower, although she remembered showering quickly and feverishly a few days before while keeping one eye on Jonah, who she had placed in his bouncy chair facing the glass doors of the opulent marble shower. With the benefit of more sleep, she wonders why she insisted on taking the baby with her, when certainly the baby’s nanny would have been capable of keeping an eye on him while she took a few moments to wash her hair and brush her teeth.
The warm water feels good, and she reaches for her shampoo, which smells of citrus and verbena. She gently massages her scalp, and leans back to rinse her hair. Her hair is long now, almost as long as it had been before Lilly had died. She wonders, idly, if she should cut it.
She pours some moisturizing shea butter body wash from L’Occitane into a mesh sponge and slowly scrubs her limbs. It feels deliciously decadent to spend this much time alone. She runs her hands down her body, skimming her breasts, which still feel surreal to her in their largesse.
She slowly lowers her hands, running them over her abdomen; her skin is slightly scarred with purple striations from her pregnancy. She slides her hands over her hips, and tentatively lowers her fingers to her thighs, brushing them lightly. She thinks about Mac, their freshman year at Hearst, declaring herself to be dead below the waist, and she is sad that she feels remarkably similar right now.
She closes her eyes and tries to think about Logan kissing her yesterday, before Jonah woke up. Thoughts of Jonah impede her efforts to remind herself what it feels like to be aroused. She shakes her head and runs through other images as she gently slides her fingers between her legs.
She reaches back, far back, into her erotic memory bank. Logan kissing her breathless in the backseat of the Xterra…Logan making love to her for the first time…Logan pushing her against the door of his hotel room at the Grande, dropping to his knees and shoving his head beneath her skirt, delighted by her admission that she had sat through the entire
campus production of Miss Saigon squirming because she didn’t have any panties on…Robert Downey Jr., shirtless in Iron Man…Logan shuddering into her body on their wedding night, both of them drunk on champagne and giddy from happiness…Logan laughing as he laid a trail of fresh pineapple over her burgeoning pregnant belly as the Hawaiian sun set behind his head, licking pineapple juice from her belly button, licking her to an intense climax…Robert Downey Jr. shirtless in Sherlock Holmes…Logan striding out of the ocean, shaking salt water from his hair, throwing his board into the sand by her feet, lifting her into the air and kissing her so intensely she shoved him down into the sand and rubbed herself against him, through her bathing suit, through his wet suit…
She smacks her head backwards against the shower wall, fingers sliding against herself in slow circles; she thinks she may actually climax for the first time since weeks before Jonah was born.
Once again she tries to push thoughts of the baby away, but this time she is unsuccessful. Sighing, she slides her fingers even lower, to the place where she had been stitched back together after the effort of pushing Jonah into the world.
She grimaces as she thinks about the incredibly intense pain of that moment, the exhausting pain of the preceding hours, and the long lasting dull throbbing pain of the stitches afterwards. She has been hesitant even to touch this part of herself, afraid, terrified really, that she will find it permanently damaged. She touches herself gently now, and to her surprise, she is not met with the painful spasms that previous explorations into this area have brought. Tentatively, she presses harder, expecting to jump back in pain, but there is only vague pressure.
Maybe she is not broken after all.
She resumes her gentle caresses of a few moments before, and again tries to conjure up images erotic enough to send her over the edge.
She is thinking about a night they spent in Tokyo, when Logan’s first film premiered in Asia. She is remembering Logan’s eyes sparkling wildly when he had pressed her naked chest against the wall of windows in their plush suite at the Seiyo Ginza hotel. He had slowly entered her from behind as she stared down at all of Tokyo - the changing throbbing lights filling her senses as Logan had pumped into her with slow, steady strokes until she begged him to touch her with his fingers. Veronica had been embarrassed at first, but Logan had assured her that the windows were tinted, and that no one could see in. When he had finally brought his fingers down to touch her she had exploded in the wash of the lights of Tokyo’s nightlife.
She feels incredibly close and incredibly good, until she begins to think about the last time she and Logan made love before Jonah’s birth, next to the Christmas tree on Christmas night, with Christmas music playing merrily on the stereo. She remembers that it had been awkward to move due to her unwieldy belly, and Logan had been nervous to touch her, except so gently that she was worried he thought she would break. These thoughts inevitably bring with them thoughts of Jonah, and she becomes frustrated to feel her arousal slipping away.
She reaches back, instead, to a fantasy constructed long ago, at one of her countless sleepovers with the Lilly. The fantasy had originally been cast and costumed and carefully crafted by Lilly, and it involved a complex plot requiring Lilly and Veronica, dressed in Catholic school girl uniforms, to be rescued from certain danger by a posse of ridiculously hot fireman. It was a silly, adolescent fantasy, but for the moment it was doing the trick. Veronica plucks the adjustable shower head from the wall, just as she is imagining two fabulously faceless firemen "examining her for injuries". She aims the shower head at just the right spot at just the right moment, and her body explodes in a long overdue orgasm.
She gasps for air as her body shakes with pleasure brought about by her own hand.
No, not entirely broken after all.
She realizes her legs are weak and she slides to the floor of the shower, the warm water continuing to pour over her. It is not until many minutes later that she realizes she is crying. She thinks they might be tears of relief.
**********************************************
Nine months earlier
Keith left the house shortly after a somber dinner during which the three of them, despite the uncomfortable silence hanging over the dinner table, managed to devour half a pan of Mrs. Navarro’s chicken enchiladas. Keith carefully asked guarded questions about what the doctors thought had gone wrong in Parker’s labor that had led to her death. He asked sorrowfully about her parents, about Piz, and about the baby. There were tears in all of their eyes when Veronica told him about the name Piz had chosen for his child.
After dinner, Keith said a curt “good night” to Logan as Veronica walked her father out to his car. He hugged his daughter tightly before getting in his squad car to head to the home. Just as he was about to pull away, Veronica poked her head in the driver’s side window.
“I know you’re mad at Logan, Dad,” she said. “And...disappointed in him. But I want you to know, I’m not mad at him anymore. I think I understand why he disappeared for a few days.”
“And what if he decides he can’t handle things when the baby actually arrives, sweetheart? If he reacts to the news that you are pregnant by going off on a bender for three days, how is he going to react when the baby is actually HERE?” Keith demanded.
“It wasn’t exactly a bender, Dad,” she smiled at him to soften her words. “And I think that when the baby arrives…I think when the baby arrives, he’ll do the best he can. And I think if he doesn’t, my father might use him for target practice.” She kissed his cheek.
“Aaron wasn’t exactly the best role model. Logan has some stuff to work through. But he’s always been there for me, when I really needed him to be.”
Keith shrugged, obviously still not quite ready to forgive. “You're not kidding about the target practice,” he said, and squeezed her hand before driving away.
Veronica went back inside and found Logan at his desk in the den. He was answering an email from Connor Larkin, who was trying to convince Logan to give him a role in his next project, which wasn’t set to start filming for several months.
She leaned over the back of his chair, and kissed the top of his head gently.
“Hey,” she said quietly, breathing in the smell of him, his shampoo and cologne and something else that was just a comforting Logan-y smell.
“Hey yourself,” he replied, reaching around the back of the chair to pull her towards him. She landed softly in his lap. Encasing her between his arms, he reached forward and spent a few seconds finishing his email. He enveloped her in a soft hug and leaned the chair backwards a bit.
“Busy?” she asked him.
“Only 150 voice-and-e-mails that need my attention right-this-very-minute or the film industry as we know it might implode,” he sighed. “Well, at least LillyLynn Productions might implode…maybe I should chuck this gig and live a life of leisure on my old man’s ill gotten gains,” he said, only half-kidding.
“Well,” she murmured into his neck, “you could try that, but I’m pretty sure you might get bored in a few months. And I would have to put the kibosh on all the cocaine and fancy whores eventually, and then what would be the fun in living a life of leisure?”
“Well, if I can't have the fancy whores and the cocaine, maybe I should write the great American novel, instead?” he joked, surprised that she was laying a line of wet kisses down the side of his neck.
“Mmm…do you think you could start the great American novel, tomorrow?” she asked, turning around to straddle him. “Or at least, you know, return those 150 messages tomorrow?”
His eyes grew wide as she began to unbutton his shirt. She slid her hands under the smooth fabric, caressing the soft skin of his chest.
He pulled her towards him, kissing her mouth gently. “I thought” he said, interrupted by kisses, “that you were mad at me? And needing time to grieve about Parker?”
She forced her tongue into his mouth and kissed him hungrily.
After his confrontation with Keith, after the devastating sadness of the past few days, after the emotional roller coaster he had been riding even before Parker’s death, Logan was bewildered by Veronica’s arousal, but simultaneously incredibly pleased and relieved. She still loved him. She still wanted to be with him.
He grasped her hips and pulled her closer, close enough to feel that he wanted her, in spite of the tremendous sorrow of the past few days, or maybe, because of it.
Veronica began to kiss a trail down his neck as she wound her fingers down to his waist, patiently pulling his belt open.
“Why are you…?” he started to ask, and then thought it would be incredibly stupid to interrupt her, to remind her of all the reasons she had to be both righteously angry with him and paralyzed with grief for Parker at the same time.
She kissed him again, her soft lips brushing against his own with tenderness and urgency.
“I don't understand what happened to Parker. I don't want to think that ANYBODY could understand what happened to Parker, because it’s not comprehensible. But I want to feel alive,” she whispered. “I want to feel alive, I want to feel, right this moment, right here, right now. We are breathing, we are living, and we are here. I want to feel like I remember what it feels like to be alive. I want to feel like nothing can ever come between us if we are alive, together, in the here…in the now. Right now, Logan. I want to feel alive.”
There were some tears forming in her blue eyes, but her hand moved to his zipper, and she coaxed him carefully out of his fly. He was so hard for her, so incredibly hard for her; he had no control over his arousal when it came to her. They had been married for more than two years, and yet a few kisses from her could still drive him crazy.
His eyes widened enormously as she dropped to her knees in front of him, and as she wrapped her wet mouth around him, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. She licked him carefully, with a precision born of years of knowing exactly what he liked best.
He was rendered speechless as she pulled him into her throat. After only a few moments he was panting her name. His fingers caressed her hair, and she pulled away from him.
“I want to give you something to think about,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows at her, unable to form a coherent question.
“I want you to think about this, tomorrow,” she explained, as she darted her tongue back towards him and licked a line around the head of him.
“Wha?” Logan managed.
“Tomorrow, when you have to go to the lab, to ‘gather the specimen’?” She arches her eyebrows at him, as she swipes her tongue around him as if he were an ice cream cone, and for a moment he thought he might actually die of pleasure.
“I want you think about me, now, and how good I made you feel, when you are all by yourself in that exam room, gathering…the specimen. Think about this when you have to touch yourself, think about me? Only me, okay?” She stood up and kissed him sloppily and then pulled away from him again.
He was still speechless as she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped her jeans and panties to the floor and quickly straddled him again. He slid his hand between her thighs, shocked to find her dripping.
“I want to feel alive,” she repeated, as she positioned herself above him. “I want to feel alive and I want to feel you inside of me, make me feel alive, Logan,” she moaned, as she slid down him. He reached behind her to unfasten her bra, and hungrily pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her gasp.
They made love slowly, tenderly, rocking back and forth in Logan’s leather desk chair. Veronica was uncharacteristically loud as she climaxed against him. She whispered that she loved him as she rocked against him; she whispered that she wanted him to come as hard as she had just come, and he was soon spent inside of her.
He pulled her close to him. “I love you so much, Veronica.”
"I love you, too," she said as she kissed him tenderly.
***************************************************
Three days later, they again sat nervously in one of Dr. Gallagher's consultation rooms. Dr. Gallagher was looking at a sheet of paper detailing Logan's test results.
"If you were a couple having trouble conceiving a child, I would tell you that I thought you might need to see a fertility specialist to address a low sperm count issue...I would also tell you that I would assess the odds of your ability to get pregnant without the intervention of a reproductive endocrinologist would be less than 10%."
"What are you saying, exactly?" Veronica asked.
"I'm saying that Logan's specimen revealed the presence of sperm. His body seems to have healed itself in a rather miraculous fashion. Not perfectly, you understand. There aren't nearly as many as we would expect to see in a 25 year old man. But they are there. You may have trouble conceiving another child, but this one certainly seems to be on its way under very normal circumstances. Congratulations."
Veronica breathed a sigh of relief and grasped Logan's hand and squeezed. Logan let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"Thank you, doctor. Thank you for everything," Logan said.
To be continued.
Title: Post Partum, Part 15/?
Author: Zaftig_darling
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, Keith
Word Count: 2000
Rating: NC17 (this part) for language and sex
Summary: motherhood changes Veronica
Spoilers: All three seasons
Warnings: adult language, sex
Parts 1 to 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14
Thanks to
vanessagalore for the beta, and for reading this multiple times, and for generally being fabulous.
Veronica stands in the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her shoulders. She is trying to force herself to relax. She has done nothing but sleep and nurse the baby for more than two days. She is beginning to remember what it feels like to be ‘Veronica’ and not only ‘Jonah’s 24 Hour Milk Bar’.
It’s been days (truthfully, she’s not sure how many) since she last took a shower, although she remembered showering quickly and feverishly a few days before while keeping one eye on Jonah, who she had placed in his bouncy chair facing the glass doors of the opulent marble shower. With the benefit of more sleep, she wonders why she insisted on taking the baby with her, when certainly the baby’s nanny would have been capable of keeping an eye on him while she took a few moments to wash her hair and brush her teeth.
The warm water feels good, and she reaches for her shampoo, which smells of citrus and verbena. She gently massages her scalp, and leans back to rinse her hair. Her hair is long now, almost as long as it had been before Lilly had died. She wonders, idly, if she should cut it.
She pours some moisturizing shea butter body wash from L’Occitane into a mesh sponge and slowly scrubs her limbs. It feels deliciously decadent to spend this much time alone. She runs her hands down her body, skimming her breasts, which still feel surreal to her in their largesse.
She slowly lowers her hands, running them over her abdomen; her skin is slightly scarred with purple striations from her pregnancy. She slides her hands over her hips, and tentatively lowers her fingers to her thighs, brushing them lightly. She thinks about Mac, their freshman year at Hearst, declaring herself to be dead below the waist, and she is sad that she feels remarkably similar right now.
She closes her eyes and tries to think about Logan kissing her yesterday, before Jonah woke up. Thoughts of Jonah impede her efforts to remind herself what it feels like to be aroused. She shakes her head and runs through other images as she gently slides her fingers between her legs.
She reaches back, far back, into her erotic memory bank. Logan kissing her breathless in the backseat of the Xterra…Logan making love to her for the first time…Logan pushing her against the door of his hotel room at the Grande, dropping to his knees and shoving his head beneath her skirt, delighted by her admission that she had sat through the entire
campus production of Miss Saigon squirming because she didn’t have any panties on…Robert Downey Jr., shirtless in Iron Man…Logan shuddering into her body on their wedding night, both of them drunk on champagne and giddy from happiness…Logan laughing as he laid a trail of fresh pineapple over her burgeoning pregnant belly as the Hawaiian sun set behind his head, licking pineapple juice from her belly button, licking her to an intense climax…Robert Downey Jr. shirtless in Sherlock Holmes…Logan striding out of the ocean, shaking salt water from his hair, throwing his board into the sand by her feet, lifting her into the air and kissing her so intensely she shoved him down into the sand and rubbed herself against him, through her bathing suit, through his wet suit…
She smacks her head backwards against the shower wall, fingers sliding against herself in slow circles; she thinks she may actually climax for the first time since weeks before Jonah was born.
Once again she tries to push thoughts of the baby away, but this time she is unsuccessful. Sighing, she slides her fingers even lower, to the place where she had been stitched back together after the effort of pushing Jonah into the world.
She grimaces as she thinks about the incredibly intense pain of that moment, the exhausting pain of the preceding hours, and the long lasting dull throbbing pain of the stitches afterwards. She has been hesitant even to touch this part of herself, afraid, terrified really, that she will find it permanently damaged. She touches herself gently now, and to her surprise, she is not met with the painful spasms that previous explorations into this area have brought. Tentatively, she presses harder, expecting to jump back in pain, but there is only vague pressure.
Maybe she is not broken after all.
She resumes her gentle caresses of a few moments before, and again tries to conjure up images erotic enough to send her over the edge.
She is thinking about a night they spent in Tokyo, when Logan’s first film premiered in Asia. She is remembering Logan’s eyes sparkling wildly when he had pressed her naked chest against the wall of windows in their plush suite at the Seiyo Ginza hotel. He had slowly entered her from behind as she stared down at all of Tokyo - the changing throbbing lights filling her senses as Logan had pumped into her with slow, steady strokes until she begged him to touch her with his fingers. Veronica had been embarrassed at first, but Logan had assured her that the windows were tinted, and that no one could see in. When he had finally brought his fingers down to touch her she had exploded in the wash of the lights of Tokyo’s nightlife.
She feels incredibly close and incredibly good, until she begins to think about the last time she and Logan made love before Jonah’s birth, next to the Christmas tree on Christmas night, with Christmas music playing merrily on the stereo. She remembers that it had been awkward to move due to her unwieldy belly, and Logan had been nervous to touch her, except so gently that she was worried he thought she would break. These thoughts inevitably bring with them thoughts of Jonah, and she becomes frustrated to feel her arousal slipping away.
She reaches back, instead, to a fantasy constructed long ago, at one of her countless sleepovers with the Lilly. The fantasy had originally been cast and costumed and carefully crafted by Lilly, and it involved a complex plot requiring Lilly and Veronica, dressed in Catholic school girl uniforms, to be rescued from certain danger by a posse of ridiculously hot fireman. It was a silly, adolescent fantasy, but for the moment it was doing the trick. Veronica plucks the adjustable shower head from the wall, just as she is imagining two fabulously faceless firemen "examining her for injuries". She aims the shower head at just the right spot at just the right moment, and her body explodes in a long overdue orgasm.
She gasps for air as her body shakes with pleasure brought about by her own hand.
No, not entirely broken after all.
She realizes her legs are weak and she slides to the floor of the shower, the warm water continuing to pour over her. It is not until many minutes later that she realizes she is crying. She thinks they might be tears of relief.
**********************************************
Nine months earlier
Keith left the house shortly after a somber dinner during which the three of them, despite the uncomfortable silence hanging over the dinner table, managed to devour half a pan of Mrs. Navarro’s chicken enchiladas. Keith carefully asked guarded questions about what the doctors thought had gone wrong in Parker’s labor that had led to her death. He asked sorrowfully about her parents, about Piz, and about the baby. There were tears in all of their eyes when Veronica told him about the name Piz had chosen for his child.
After dinner, Keith said a curt “good night” to Logan as Veronica walked her father out to his car. He hugged his daughter tightly before getting in his squad car to head to the home. Just as he was about to pull away, Veronica poked her head in the driver’s side window.
“I know you’re mad at Logan, Dad,” she said. “And...disappointed in him. But I want you to know, I’m not mad at him anymore. I think I understand why he disappeared for a few days.”
“And what if he decides he can’t handle things when the baby actually arrives, sweetheart? If he reacts to the news that you are pregnant by going off on a bender for three days, how is he going to react when the baby is actually HERE?” Keith demanded.
“It wasn’t exactly a bender, Dad,” she smiled at him to soften her words. “And I think that when the baby arrives…I think when the baby arrives, he’ll do the best he can. And I think if he doesn’t, my father might use him for target practice.” She kissed his cheek.
“Aaron wasn’t exactly the best role model. Logan has some stuff to work through. But he’s always been there for me, when I really needed him to be.”
Keith shrugged, obviously still not quite ready to forgive. “You're not kidding about the target practice,” he said, and squeezed her hand before driving away.
Veronica went back inside and found Logan at his desk in the den. He was answering an email from Connor Larkin, who was trying to convince Logan to give him a role in his next project, which wasn’t set to start filming for several months.
She leaned over the back of his chair, and kissed the top of his head gently.
“Hey,” she said quietly, breathing in the smell of him, his shampoo and cologne and something else that was just a comforting Logan-y smell.
“Hey yourself,” he replied, reaching around the back of the chair to pull her towards him. She landed softly in his lap. Encasing her between his arms, he reached forward and spent a few seconds finishing his email. He enveloped her in a soft hug and leaned the chair backwards a bit.
“Busy?” she asked him.
“Only 150 voice-and-e-mails that need my attention right-this-very-minute or the film industry as we know it might implode,” he sighed. “Well, at least LillyLynn Productions might implode…maybe I should chuck this gig and live a life of leisure on my old man’s ill gotten gains,” he said, only half-kidding.
“Well,” she murmured into his neck, “you could try that, but I’m pretty sure you might get bored in a few months. And I would have to put the kibosh on all the cocaine and fancy whores eventually, and then what would be the fun in living a life of leisure?”
“Well, if I can't have the fancy whores and the cocaine, maybe I should write the great American novel, instead?” he joked, surprised that she was laying a line of wet kisses down the side of his neck.
“Mmm…do you think you could start the great American novel, tomorrow?” she asked, turning around to straddle him. “Or at least, you know, return those 150 messages tomorrow?”
His eyes grew wide as she began to unbutton his shirt. She slid her hands under the smooth fabric, caressing the soft skin of his chest.
He pulled her towards him, kissing her mouth gently. “I thought” he said, interrupted by kisses, “that you were mad at me? And needing time to grieve about Parker?”
She forced her tongue into his mouth and kissed him hungrily.
After his confrontation with Keith, after the devastating sadness of the past few days, after the emotional roller coaster he had been riding even before Parker’s death, Logan was bewildered by Veronica’s arousal, but simultaneously incredibly pleased and relieved. She still loved him. She still wanted to be with him.
He grasped her hips and pulled her closer, close enough to feel that he wanted her, in spite of the tremendous sorrow of the past few days, or maybe, because of it.
Veronica began to kiss a trail down his neck as she wound her fingers down to his waist, patiently pulling his belt open.
“Why are you…?” he started to ask, and then thought it would be incredibly stupid to interrupt her, to remind her of all the reasons she had to be both righteously angry with him and paralyzed with grief for Parker at the same time.
She kissed him again, her soft lips brushing against his own with tenderness and urgency.
“I don't understand what happened to Parker. I don't want to think that ANYBODY could understand what happened to Parker, because it’s not comprehensible. But I want to feel alive,” she whispered. “I want to feel alive, I want to feel, right this moment, right here, right now. We are breathing, we are living, and we are here. I want to feel like I remember what it feels like to be alive. I want to feel like nothing can ever come between us if we are alive, together, in the here…in the now. Right now, Logan. I want to feel alive.”
There were some tears forming in her blue eyes, but her hand moved to his zipper, and she coaxed him carefully out of his fly. He was so hard for her, so incredibly hard for her; he had no control over his arousal when it came to her. They had been married for more than two years, and yet a few kisses from her could still drive him crazy.
His eyes widened enormously as she dropped to her knees in front of him, and as she wrapped her wet mouth around him, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. She licked him carefully, with a precision born of years of knowing exactly what he liked best.
He was rendered speechless as she pulled him into her throat. After only a few moments he was panting her name. His fingers caressed her hair, and she pulled away from him.
“I want to give you something to think about,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows at her, unable to form a coherent question.
“I want you to think about this, tomorrow,” she explained, as she darted her tongue back towards him and licked a line around the head of him.
“Wha?” Logan managed.
“Tomorrow, when you have to go to the lab, to ‘gather the specimen’?” She arches her eyebrows at him, as she swipes her tongue around him as if he were an ice cream cone, and for a moment he thought he might actually die of pleasure.
“I want you think about me, now, and how good I made you feel, when you are all by yourself in that exam room, gathering…the specimen. Think about this when you have to touch yourself, think about me? Only me, okay?” She stood up and kissed him sloppily and then pulled away from him again.
He was still speechless as she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped her jeans and panties to the floor and quickly straddled him again. He slid his hand between her thighs, shocked to find her dripping.
“I want to feel alive,” she repeated, as she positioned herself above him. “I want to feel alive and I want to feel you inside of me, make me feel alive, Logan,” she moaned, as she slid down him. He reached behind her to unfasten her bra, and hungrily pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her gasp.
They made love slowly, tenderly, rocking back and forth in Logan’s leather desk chair. Veronica was uncharacteristically loud as she climaxed against him. She whispered that she loved him as she rocked against him; she whispered that she wanted him to come as hard as she had just come, and he was soon spent inside of her.
He pulled her close to him. “I love you so much, Veronica.”
"I love you, too," she said as she kissed him tenderly.
***************************************************
Three days later, they again sat nervously in one of Dr. Gallagher's consultation rooms. Dr. Gallagher was looking at a sheet of paper detailing Logan's test results.
"If you were a couple having trouble conceiving a child, I would tell you that I thought you might need to see a fertility specialist to address a low sperm count issue...I would also tell you that I would assess the odds of your ability to get pregnant without the intervention of a reproductive endocrinologist would be less than 10%."
"What are you saying, exactly?" Veronica asked.
"I'm saying that Logan's specimen revealed the presence of sperm. His body seems to have healed itself in a rather miraculous fashion. Not perfectly, you understand. There aren't nearly as many as we would expect to see in a 25 year old man. But they are there. You may have trouble conceiving another child, but this one certainly seems to be on its way under very normal circumstances. Congratulations."
Veronica breathed a sigh of relief and grasped Logan's hand and squeezed. Logan let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"Thank you, doctor. Thank you for everything," Logan said.
To be continued.