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Chapter 2 - "You Can See So Much In Me"
The movie Logan had selected was a generic action/adventure flick with lots of bullets, babes, and bodacious bad guys. One of the bad guys, a mountain of a man with body-builder physique, conveniently managed to get his shirt torn during an energetic fight sequence so his hard-won muscles could show. If the director’s expectation was that this would impress the audience, he was mistaken in at least one instance. Jayla saw the hairy torso of the massive villain and laughed out loud.
"Ooga, ooga," she giggled. "Now *that* is one hairy ape!"
"What’s the matter with that?" asked Logan. "I thought women liked men with hair on their chests and lots of muscles."
"Not this woman," Jayla declared, dropping her voice back to a whisper. "My darling, there are lots of things I love about you, but one of the things that attracted me to you is that you are not furry. I’d just as soon hug a monkey as a hairy man."
"Really? I always thought I was a little sparse in that department."
"Which is good, at least in my mind," she repeated. Then she made a casual comment, not even looking at Logan while the hero attacked the villain with stunningly choreographed martial arts moves. "Why should I like body hair on you any more than you would like it on me?"
An exploding car or building or something drowned out any response Logan might have made, and they returned their attention to the movie. As such things do, the movie had a damsel in distress to be rescued by the hero. In a suitably tender scene - which is to say, rather blunt and not very tender at all - hero and damsel shared a passionate kiss the moment he found her in her romantically dark prison. Jayla reached for her own lover’s hand, intent on giving it a teasing squeeze, only to find a firm obstruction along the way - very firm.
"Ready to go again, stud?" she snickered in his ear.
"Huh? Oh, um, sure, anytime with you, babe."
"You’re sort of distracted," Jayla observed. "You like that bottle blonde look?"
"You know better than that," Logan said. I think your hair is one of the most beautiful things about you, and I’ve told you that many times."
"What’s getting you so hot, then?" asked the brunette with a toss of her own thick hair.
"Um, nothing," Logan claimed, but his eyes were still locked on the screen.
Jayla looked again to see what was so special about the image, then found her answer not in the damsel’s hair, but in her distress. She still wore handcuffs while the hero was kissing her, adding to the apparent sweetness of her willing surrender.
"You like the handcuffs?" she asked, surprised. "You never even hinted at that before."
Even in the dimness and despite her own earlier camouflage application, she could see her husband’s cheeks darken. And he knew that she knew so he didn’t try to deny it, at least not entirely.
"I’m not really into that sort of thing," Logan claimed, "but there’s something about, I don’t know, the image of being protective that appeals to me. It’s not so much that the girl is cuffed as that she is, um, dependent on him. It seems very loving to me, on both their parts."
Then he smiled, recovering his own composure enough to tease his wife. "Besides, with a girl as big and as fit as you, I’d need all the advantage I could get."
"So you’d like to tie me up?" she asked, a teasing grin showing that she might be persuaded.
She didn’t get the quick and easy agreement she expected. Logan looked at her for a long moment, then said, "I’m not sure. I, that is, my frat brothers and I went to a porno movie one time, well, one time that had bondage in it. It didn’t really do anything for me. I know I wouldn’t like anything nonconsensual. Maybe what caught my attention is that she sort of presented herself to him already bound and that they just weren’t in any hurry to undo the cuffs, like she trusted him to do it eventually, and to take care of her until he got around to it. I don’t know, really."
Now it was Jayla’s turn to give him a long, studious look. After a moment they both turned their attention back to the movie. The damsel was indeed released, eventually, and the remaining villains satisfyingly whacked, eventually. When the lights came on in the theater, Logan remembered for the first time in a while that he was, as he had said earlier, ‘striking’ in appearance.
Once again, though, no one seemed to be paying all that much attention, so after a moment of furtive examination of those nearby, he relaxed. "Okay, beautiful, I’ve done the public thing with your warpaint on. Satisfied?"
"Um, sure," she said, showing hesitation that belied her words.
"Uh, oh," Logan said, his grin showing typical good humor. "What now?"
Jayla looked at her husband, specifically at the makeup she had so artfully applied under the promise that they would only visit a darkened movie theater, and tried to decide how noticeable, how ‘striking’ to use his word, he would be in a more open setting.
He really did look good. If it weren’t for tradition, men would be flattered if they could be as attractive as he was. Hell, there were women, lots of them, who didn’t look as good as he did, though her technique truly had only enhanced what was already there, and that subtly.
"Earth to Jayla: What’s going on in there?"
"Huh, oh, nothing. I was just wondering . . . "
This time he gave her a prod to continue her dangling thought. A literal prod - with a finger in her ribs - as well as a verbal one. "What are you wondering about?"
"I really shouldn’t ask."
"Ask what you want. Like I said, I’ll do anything for you."
Jayla laughed, but there was a longing still in her eyes. She said, "Anything?"
Now Logan laughed, but he nodded. "Even though it sounds like the opening to a bad novel, I mean it."
"Sure you do. Why, the next thing you know I might have you living in the doghouse wearing nothing but a leather collar."
"Again?" he said, snickering.
"Oh, you. You know I’d *never* do that. I like having you in my bed too much.
Logan quickly stuck out his hand and said, "Deal!"
She slapped at his hand, then moved in behind it to hug him anyway.
"Seriously, would you really do anything I asked?"
"If I could," he replied, serious now himself. "What do you want?"
"Oh, I don’t know," she answered in a frustrated tone. "I truly love you, and there isn’t anything that really ‘bugs’ me a lot, but . . . "
"But what?"
Jayla shrugged. "I’m just weird."
"Do you expect an argument from me?" he asked, squeezing her.
"What? Oh. No, not really," she said, smiling at his barb. "I just, um, well, I guess I need to think about it for a while."
"Whatever. I’m not worried."
"You’re not?" she asked, looking up at his highlighted eyes. "That’s a pretty blank check you’ve handed me."
Logan surprised her with a question she didn’t think he needed to ask. "Do you love me?"
"Of course. Don’t you know that by now?"
"Yes, I do. And that’s the point. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, certainly not deliberately. If you ask for something that would be too hard for me, I’ll tell you. And I trust you to respect that. So I haven’t really promised anything I consider risky, except in ways that I make risky by not sharing myself with you clearly enough."
"I love you," she purred, laying her head on his chest.
"Yep, and I love you which is, as I said, the point."
After a too-short moment, just long enough to taste the warmth of being in his arms without really . . . absorbing it, she raised her head again and asked, "So, what do you want in return?"
"Nothing."
"No, really," she persisted. "I’d like to show you the same sort of love you give to me."
"I’m glad, but I’m not doing this as some sort of negotiating position. I do it because I love you, and you don’t have to ‘pay’ me for that love."
"So, there’s nothing I could do for you?"
Logan laughed and said, "Goodness, no! There’s *lots* of things you could do for me. Lots of things you DO do for me. I just don’t want to cheapen them by making them something you OWE me. I cherish them because you GIVE them to me even when I don’t deserve them."
"Like what, specifically?"
"Like, specifically, if you have to ask, then you need to pay more attention to me. Figure it out for yourself. I’m sure I’ll be pleased."
"Oh, poo. That’s not fair," Jayla declared, showing a pout that had literally made her a million dollars.
He was unfazed. "Probably, but like I said, this is not some sort of negotiated deal. It’s a total commitment. You tell me what you want, and I’ll try to make it happen."
The pout vanished from her full lips, transformed into a teasing grin as an idea came to her. "Would you consider going out to dinner?"
"Now?"
She smiled and said, "Yes, that *is* what I had in mind."
"You think I look okay?"
"*I* think you look terrific," she said firmly. "But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I truly don’t know what others will think. That’s part of the problem."
Logan looked at her for a moment, trying to gauge the degree of her desire. And it occurred to him that he didn’t understand the basic need that was driving her. "Why do you care? I thought you just wanted to see how your stuff looked like on a redhead. What you did is subtle enough that even on a guy it didn’t cause any particular problem, so it would for sure work on a woman. What else do you need to know?"
"I don’t know," admitted Jayla. "I just have this, I don’t know, urge to push it a bit further."
"Planning to open a new line of makeup for men?"
"No, not really. There already are some, you know. But that market is pretty small and probably will continue to be small. Of course, I can remember when men didn’t wear earrings, so I’m sure that someday men will break the makeup barrier, too, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon."
"So, what’s the big deal then?"
Jayla pouted a little, frustrated in not being able to scratch the mental itch that was bothering her. "Maybe I just like the way you look," she finally said. "Or maybe I just want to show you off a little. My trophy husband."
"Now *that* is a strange idea," Logan said, laughing. "The supermodel with the computer geek on her arm, and I am supposed to be the trophy? Get real."
"I was never a ‘supermodel’," she said. "Just a working girl with a sense of what real-world women need."
"Well, you’re pretty super to me," Logan said, making the obligatory claim. "And if you want to go get something to eat, I can stand it."
They ended up in a salad and burgers place they both liked, modeled on an American Graffiti diner though the yuppy salads were hardly authentic from the period. It was, however, as brightly lit as a 50’s diner with lots of windows. Logan went to snag a booth, then tried to look inconspicuous while Jayla ordered. It didn’t really work. He noticed a few islands of whispering, accompanied by quick glances that were dropped when he looked back.
Jayla had noticed, too. "We shouldn’t have come here," she whispered as she sat facing him.
"It’ll be all right," he replied, smiling.
"You don’t mind?"
He shrugged and said, "I don’t enjoy the sense of being gawked at like a freak, but I can deal with it. Just don’t start doing the same thing yourself."
"Oh, Logan, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for this to happen."
"Don’t worry about it," he said, patting her hand. "It could be a lot worse."
"Well," promised Jayla, "I won’t ever ask you to do this again."
"It’s not that big a deal," Logan reassured her. "Do you think I’ve suddenly turned into a freak?"
"No!" she declared fiercely, for all that she kept her voice low. "I still think you look terrific. I just wish other people would let us do what we want without judging us."
"A noble sentiment," he said, lifting his glass - well, cardboard cup
to her in toast.
"Oh, you," Jayla said, tears forming in her eyes. "You really are special, you know?"
"I’m glad you think so."
They ate in silence for a while, quickly finishing their simple meal.
"Ready to go?" Logan asked.
"Very much so," Jayla replied, pulling out her lipstick to repair the damage from their meal.
"Do I need to do that, too?" her decorated husband asked, grinning.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," she said, smiling back at him. "But I seem to have forgotten to bring your shade of lipstick with me."
"Too bad," he replied, laughing in a way that banished any concerns, even those that were actually making Jayla feel guilty.
Still, when they got back to their home, she was unhappy. "I truly am sorry, Logan. I never meant for you to be embarrassed."
"I know that, beautiful. But you have to realize that I don’t care about anyone else’s opinion of me - just yours. Are you embarrassed to have been seen with a . . . whatever I looked like?"
"No! Just the opposite, in fact. I was so proud that you would, um, indulge me like that, even at some cost to yourself. And I *still* think you look terrific."
"Then that’s the end of any guilt. We had a good time. It might not have been exactly what we expected, but that’s part of what made it a fun evening."
She looked at him in surprise. "You had fun?!"
"Sure. It was certainly different. No ruts around you, milady.
Nor me when I’m with you."
"So, are you going to do it again?"
"Ah, well," he stammered, blushing. "Okay, you caught me. I’d do it if you want me to, but I can’t say that I would get all painted up just for my own amusement."
The he chuckled and said, "After all, we’ve done this now. It wouldn’t be ‘different’ to do it again."
"Ah, well," she said, mimicking him, "I guess I’ll have to think up something else, then."
"I’m sure you will."
She helped him cream off everything, showing him ways to cleanse and moisturize his skin that were good ideas for men, too, and then they went to bed.
In the morning, while he was packing for that week’s trip, he slipped a couple of extra items into his bags. Unknown to him, she was making her own plans for the week - and for his return at the end of it.
The pile of things he had placed by the door included his flying gear, so as he got ready to leave, she said, "You’re taking your plane?"
Logan nodded and said, "Yes. That way, I won’t have to fight for a flight out. I’m not sure just when we’ll finish. If I get the job, it will be Friday morning before I can leave, mid-afternoon before I get back. Of course, if they tell me to take a hike, I’ll be back on Tuesday."
"I guess I’ll just have to plan on a surprise for Friday, then."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said, hugging her. "You really are good for my ego."
"Even after last night?" she asked, frowning.
"Especially after last night," he declared. "And yesterday afternoon, and, oh, *lots* of times."
Jayla slapped his arm, but the frown disappeared and a bright smile replaced it. With a final wave, Logan gathered up his bags and left. She stood in the doorway until his car was out of sight, and while he noticed the gesture he was too far away to see her expression clearly. If he had, he would have seen a frown of concentration near her eyes despite her happily upturned lips. Behind those eyes, her own plans were churning rapidly.
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