Rating: R, for adult content
Word Count: 1753
Spoilers: Very mild through S3. No big mysteries solved.
Disclaimer: Very much not mine, and probably not The CW’s for much longer. Yeah, I’m optimistic like that.
Summary: Apparently, Veronica maintains her girlish figure by swimming laps. She’s not the only one. Written for the picking_losers April Showers challenge.
The rec center at Hearst was nearly deserted on Saturday night; most people were at frat parties or on dates. Even Mac, her trusty girl-power sidekick, was out living it up with Bronson.
There was no one else in the women's locker room when Veronica changed into her bathing suit, and she hoped the pool would be empty as well. She preferred to swim alone.
Only one lane of the Olympic-sized pool was occupied, and she was grateful. It wasn't quite as good as having the place to herself, but it would do. She took a moment to watch the man swim, admiring the way he cut cleanly through the water, before getting in herself.
She planned to swim her usual twenty laps, even though it had been a long day and she was tempted to cut it short. She knew she'd feel better if she pushed through to the end, though.
Around lap seventeen, she noticed that she didn't hear anything from the far side of the pool. The other swimmer must have finished his workout. Reveling in the sudden sense of solitude, she threw herself into her final three laps.
Veronica was breathing heavily as she climbed out of the pool. Her muscles were burning slightly, but she felt good. She wanted to relax for a few minutes in the hot tub, and then it was home to bed.
She didn't bother to dry off; she just grabbed her towel and headed for the spa room, which was on the opposite side of the pool from the locker rooms. Walking in, she stopped dead at the sight of the man occupying the hot tub.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped.
Sheriff Don Lamb opened his eyes and gazed at her. "I would think that'd be obvious, even for an amateur detective like you."
"You're not a student," she said through clenched teeth.
"Turns out pool passes are available for purchase. Something about Neptune no longer having a public pool? Anyway, I picked one up last fall, while I was on campus investigating the rapes."
"How wonderful for you. Enjoy yourself—I'm going home."
Against her better judgment, she turned back around and looked at him. "What?"
"Look, we're both adults. You came in here to use the hot tub. There's plenty of room for both of us, but if it really bothers you, then I'll leave."
Now that was just downright disturbing. Lamb being rational and considerate? Maybe he was up to something. Still, he had a point. "Fine," she said with a sigh, dropping her towel on the concrete and climbing into the hot tub. The water was deliciously warm, and she sank down gratefully against the pulsing jets. Her eyes drifted shut, and a breathy little moan escaped her lips.
Lamb swallowed hard, shifting slightly in his seat. Maybe sitting in a hot tub with a bathing-suit clad Veronica Mars, listening to her make sexy noises, wasn't such a good idea.
"So..." he began awkwardly, "do you swim a lot?"
She chuckled quietly, but didn't bother to open her eyes. "Is that your way of saying 'come here often'?" she teased.
"Just making conversation."
"I try to get here a few times a week, but it's tough with work and school. It's good stress relief, though. What about you?"
"About the same—I try for three or four times a week, but it doesn't always work out."
"I'm surprised we haven't run into each other before."
"Guess you were just lucky."
She opened her eyes briefly. "Guess so," she said, and closed them again.
They lapsed into silence, and the minutes ticked past. Lamb continued to stare at her, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. Just as he had decided to leave, he saw her wince.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. The jet just hit a knot in my shoulder blade that won't go away."
He hesitated. He should leave. He knew that. Veronica Mars was trouble with a capital "T." But it wasn't often that he got to see her vulnerable, and it was oddly appealing.
He should still leave.
So naturally he slid around to her side of the hot tub, stopping when their bodies were only inches apart.
Her eyes flew open when she felt his hands on her shoulders. "What are you doing?" she asked, a note of panic creeping into her voice.
"Just turn around," he replied, using his hands to nudge her body in the right direction. "And relax."
She forced a deep breath as his thumbs began to probe her skin, and she hissed sharply when they found the knot.
"Jesus, Veronica, that's nasty. Why are you so tense?"
"Almost getting killed on a regular basis will do that to a girl."
He began to work his fingers firmly against her back, pressing at the problem area. "Well, you're safe tonight."
She highly doubted that. Even if whatever he was doing felt pretty damn amazing. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, cursing the fact that she sounded more than a little aroused.
"What, I can't just do something nice?"
"For me? Not likely."
He pressed harder, trying to loosen the muscle, and she gasped. "Maybe I just like the idea of you owing me one."
"I'll buy that," she mumbled, some of the tension starting to leech away beneath his talented fingers.
Fifteen minutes later, the knot was gone, and Veronica felt like she was drifting in a warm haze. Don Lamb might be a monumental jackass, but the man had skills. He should have been a masseuse, not a cop. She expected him to stop when she murmured, "That's good, thanks," but he simply moved his hands further down her back and went to work there.
She told herself that it shouldn't feel this good to have him touch her. It wasn't like she'd never had a massage before, but somehow none of those had gotten her hot and bothered.
He'd brushed her hair forward and off her shoulders, and now she could feel his warm breath against her neck. Her pulse was starting to pound, and she forced herself to take steady, even breaths.
He wondered how long she was going to let this go on. The silky feel of her warm, wet skin was addictive, and he didn't want to stop touching her. They'd barely spoken since he first put his hands on her, and he was afraid if he breathed too loud it would all come crashing down.
He shifted his attention from her back to her arm, starting at her wrist and working his way up. When his fingers inadvertently grazed the side of her breast, she couldn't quite bite back a moan of pleasure.
Lamb froze at the sound, and then carefully touched her again, this time in a deliberate caress. Her moan was louder, and he seized the opportunity.
His mouth was hot against her throat, and she arched back against him as he gently sucked on her skin. "This is a really bad idea," she gasped out.
One of his hands came up to play with the strap of her bathing suit. "And?"
"Just an observation," she said, helping him work the strap down and off her arm, giving him better access. He pulled her into his lap, and it was nice to know she wasn't the only one affected by this. She twisted in his arms and straddled him, and it was his turn to groan his approval.
Veronica pulled his head down and found his lips with hers, because if she was going to totally let him feel her up, they should at least kiss. Otherwise she was pretty sure she was just a whore, per the rules established by Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
She kissed like it was going out of style, all tongue and teeth and sweet Lord if he didn't get her out of that bathing suit soon he just might die.
One hand found her nipple, and he rolled the hard peak between his fingers. Her hands were doing some exploring of their own, and he threw back his head in bliss when her questing fingers dipped inside his swim trunks.
"So what classes are you taking?" he asked suddenly.
She stopped biting his shoulder long enough to give him a patented Veronica Stare. "You're asking that now?"
"I just thought if you were taking statistics, you could tell me the odds of the two of us getting naked here."
Another stare, and then she laughed. "That is a terrible line."
"Yeah, but did it work?"
As it turned out, the odds were in his favor.
Veronica learned the hard way that it was nearly impossible to put a bathing suit back on while in a hot tub. Of course, Lamb had no problem with his trunks, leaving her to climb out naked before his watchful eye and knowing smirk.
"A gentleman would turn around," she pointed out.
"A gentleman wouldn't have made you scream that loud," he countered.
She had to admit the bastard had a point. "Tell you what," she said, picking up her towel and wrapping it around her body. "You climb out naked, and I'll make it worth your while."
He had the shorts off in five seconds flat, and she watched appreciatively as he mounted the stairs out of the spa. He walked over to her and trailed one finger lazily across the skin above her towel. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
She reached up and stroked her hand down the side of his face. "First one to the showers gets to decide."
She took off before he could react, and he had to grab his towel before chasing after her. He pushed open the door to the women's locker room carefully, making sure the coast was clear. He followed the sound of a shower running, and grinned when he saw her towel and suit on the floor. Pulling open the curtain, he was greeted by the sight of a very wet, very naked Veronica Mars leaning against the tile wall.
"I win," she said with a smile.
He dropped his towel and stepped in beside her. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and slid his other hand between her thighs. "So what's your prize?"
She gasped as his fingers began to work their magic. Hooking one leg around his hip, she whispered, "You."
"Then I guess we both win."
She could live with that.