“Oh, God… I feel sick…” She huffed, then belched loudly, earning a smack on her ass from Logan who was walking a step behind her.
“Manners, kid… Did yours run screaming from the sight of all those burritos you inhaled?” He grunted. She rubbed her rear, trying her best to form a credible scowl. When it wasn’t working she settled for sticking her tongue out.
“I’m born and bred southern belle, you’re just some redneck from Bumfuck…”
“Sure, sure… Just try to tone down that infamous southern charm a bit. Can’t have these people talking how I’ve lost my taste and touch with women.”
“Oh, puh-leeze… Aren’t you the guy who once told me that as long as it has two legs and it’s breathing it’s fair game?” She drawled, climbing in to the truck, fully expecting Logan to slap her for the remark. He let it slip, and she noted surprised that it sparked a disappointment at some level.
Sunstroke. Had to be.

“HHH, kid,” Logan grunted, settled behind the steering wheel and lit a cigar.
“HHH? What does it mean?”
“High, Horny and Hallucinating. When I said that I’d settle anything with two legs as long as it was breathing I was high, horny and hallucinating.”
“Shit. You really were, weren’t you? It was just that one joint you confiscated from Bobby and you were high as a kite.”
“The whole five minutes it took to wear off. Afterwards I was just plain horny…” Logan muttered, weaving through the traffic.
“Are you now?” She asked.
“What? High? Hell, no.”
“I meant horny. We seem to talk awful lot about your sex life,” she clarified.
“Well, when you can’t have some, the next best thing is to talk about it,” Logan said, turning the truck to a narrow alley. They were now driving away from the city.
She was still mulling over his surprising confession when the last buildings disappeared from the rearview mirror. Logan. Not getting laid? Was it even possible? And why the hell did it even matter to her?

It had to be the emotional trauma from the fight earlier, combined with the unbearable heat of the sun.

“You’re shitting me. There’s no way you’re going without,” she blurted when first rickety buildings of the rodeo arena appeared from the darkness. Logan threw the stump of his cigar from the window and shook his head.
“It’s the god-honest truth. But heck… As long as I have healthy pair of hands it’s not so bad.”
She closed her eyes, hoping against hope that the blush she could feel creeping over her cheeks wasn’t too obvious. At one point when she was still head over heels for Logan, not too long after he had saved her life at the Statue of Liberty a persistent dream had been haunting her, turning her nights in to strange mix of heaven and hell. Logan, lying naked on a bed, moonlight illuminating his body, sweat glistening on his skin as he was stroking his cock slowly.

She still wasn’t sure if it had been one of his memories surfacing through the muddled mix of their joined minds, or something her brain had cooked up just to torment her some more. And she wasn’t going to ask. Or was she?

No. No matter how nice it would have been to have some kind of disclosure, that dream still popped up every now and then, she really wasn’t going to ask him about it.

Right?

Right?

“Umm… I want to ask you something…” She whispered quickly before she lost her courage when Logan stopped the car in front of something that looked like the front gates of the rodeo.
“Okay…?” Logan took the key from the ignition, pocketed it and turned to look at her, one arm hanging carelessly over the backrest of the seat, the other braced against the steering wheel.

“I… I keep seeing this dream, and… And I was just wondering… What do you think are the odds that after this long I still see your actual memories, and not something… Something my mind made up, or…” She tried, but as soon as she opened her mouth she couldn’t force out the right words. And Logan seemed to misunderstand her stuttering. Worried frown settled over his features.

“Are you still having my nightmares? I thought you took care of it with professor already…” He said, reaching over and brushing a stray strand of white hair from her forehead.
“No. It’s nothing. It’s kind of stupid. Just something that came in to my mind while we were talking. Nothing important…” She said, turning her head so that he couldn’t see her face. She knew Logan could tell from her scent alone that she was lying, but she really wasn’t going to ask if he was left or right handed.

“Can we just go? I would really like to see everything now that we are here!” She asked, forcing excited tone to her voice.
“Everything, huh? You don’t ask for much, kid…” Logan grunted, but for her relief let her off the hook.
You must login (register) to review.