A/N: Hello! I've been wanting to write a story that's really Lomille-centered, so here I am. I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Logan Mitchell stared wearily at the champagne flute in his hand and gulped down the last few dregs of the drink. Once again, he and the rest of Big Time Rush had been forced to go to yet another Hollywood party. They'd been fun the first couple times, but he was now twenty-six years old. All he wanted to do was get a few more hours of sleep in before being rushed to the studio for recording.
Logan vaguely noticed someone settle beside him, but with all the alcohol he had took in that night, he assumed it was just his imagination. He reached for an untouched glass of wine and a hand swatted his own. Logan recoiled and turned to see one of his best friends and fellow band member smirking at him.
"Logan, you've had more wine than even James tonight," Kendall said, brushing his golden bangs backwards. He jerked his thumb towards the crowd of people on the dance floor. "Why don't you stop drinking and go talk to someone? Must I remind you that you're the only one of us that doesn't have a girlfriend?" Logan groaned, pushing Kendall in his seat.
"Please don't," Logan replied, only slightly slurring. Sometimes, Logan couldn't believe he was the only single member of his group. James was a player, so he'd probably be breaking up with the girl he was with in less than a week, but he'd manage to snag another one within that week. Kendall had been going out with a cute movie star for a year or so and it was amazing that they were still together. Carlos was going out with the beautiful songwriter Crystal Waters, and Carlos was…well, he was Carlos.
Kendall was still looking at Logan expectantly, so he sighed and got to his feet. Unlike most people, Logan could still walk a straight line when he was severely drunk. He danced with a hot model named Skye and chatted with a pair of blonde twins, both of which had boyfriends.
About thirty minutes after one AM, Logan collapsed back into the chair he'd been in about an hour before. A girl with dark hair, almost blue-black, was now sitting across from him.
She had sharp, defined eyebrows that seemed permanently arched. Her eyes were cocoa brown, like Logan's. She had a cute, ski-slope nose and a faint beauty mark right above her full red lips.
The girl had an average height and a small frame decorated in a short teal dress. It was backless and tempting. The girl smiled, and something about this smile was oddly familiar to Logan. Once again, he guessed alcohol was doing things to him and waved away this thought.
"Hi," Logan greeted, trying to yell over "Sexy and I Know It". The pulsating of the loud music caused the glasses and other items on their table to wobble.
Both Logan and the mystery girl lunged forward to catch a falling wine bottle. Their hands touched just barely, but the shock caused Logan to drop the bottle. It shattered when it made contact with the ground.
"Sorry," they blurted in tandem. They both laughed nervously and lowered to their knees to clean up the mess. Logan tilted his head up and observed the girl once again. Her midnight blue, stick-straight hair draped over the sides of her face and her eyes were done up with metallic gray shadow.
The lights of the room cast a shadow on her face that made her look like a sexy vixen. She suddenly looked up at him, and Logan found that he wasn't able to look away.
He was feeling uncharacteristically shy, like he was sixteen again. Back then, he'd been the biggest nerd ever. He probably still was, but now, he was fully aware of it. He blushed and looked down at his shoes, but the girl lifted his chin back up and pressed her lips against his. It wasn't the least bit tentative, it was rough and hard. Logan was quickly addicted.
Logan felt his hands go to the girl's waist, as if he wasn't controlling this action. He remembered he didn't even know this chick's name, but it didn't matter now. He ran his fingers through her hair and "mmf"-ed into the kiss.
His lips moved to her neck and he felt the girl's hand travel up his arm to the area where his lapel was. It moved to the base of his neck and pressed gently. Then she pinched down hard.
This action wasn't significant to Logan until he began to feel a little woozy. Being the person he was—which was a giant dork-knew that the girl was attempting to perform a Vulcan nerve pinch. He was fairly sure it wasn't even possible in real, but his theory was proved wrong when his body dropped like a sandbag.
The girl pushed him under the table and smirked at his expression. She kissed his lips one more time and then rubbed her hands together sinisterly, like a villain in a cartoon.
"That was easy," the girl laughed. "Good work, Camille." She patted herself on the back and dragged Logan's body out the back way…
Logan's head throbbed, and the pillow tucked under it was doing little to help. The room he was in was dark. He figured he was finally back in his bed at the house he and the guys shared. They'd moved there about two years ago: best decision ever.
Logan reached for the glass of water he always kept on his bedside table, but it wasn't there. Neither was his alarm clock.
Come to think of it, there wasn't even a bedside table anywhere. Instead, Logan felt his hand land on a person. Had he gone home with someone? He called for Kendall, who still slept in a bed next to his own. Just then, all of the lights flipped on and Logan gasped. He was in a room he'd never seen in his life. It was small and windowless.
"Hi there," the girl across from him said calmly. Something clicked, and Logan remembered her from the party. What had happened? "Didja sleep well, babe?"
Logan tried to sit up, but he found himself strapped to the bed he was in. He thrashed and bucked, trying to escape, but it was no use. The fabric that was used to fasten him was starting to sting his skin.
"You shouldn't do that, Logan," the girl said to him. "Your pretty skin will burn right off, you know. And we don't want that." She put her hand to Logan's jaw and stroked. Logan slapped it away. The girl just giggled. "Does baby wanna be bad now?"
"Where the hell am I?" Logan yelled. "Get me out of here! And who the hell are you?"
The girl's smile wilted and she crawled over to where Logan was lying, inches from his lips.
"You don't remember me?" The girl looked frustrated by this.
"Well, I know you're the girl that kissed me at the party," Logan sneered, as if the makeout session had disgusted him.
The girl's soft brown eyes narrowed and turned a dangerous amber color. "You loved that. You kissed me back, Logan. And how the hell do you not remember me?" Logan scratched his head. She did look very familiar, but his head hurt too much to think about it.
"How do you know my name?" Logan asked. "Wait, are you a fan of BTR?" The girl looked like she wanted to rip him to shreds. But she didn't. A tear dropped from her eye and she quickly wiped it away. Logan almost felt sorry for her. Why was it so important that he knew who she was?
"Come on, Logan," she said softly. "Maybe this will jog your memory…" The girl shook out her right hand and then used it to smack Logan right across the face. Crack!
Logan hadn't even seen her hand move, but he had certainly felt it. He brought his fingers to his cheek and felt a recognizable sting. He looked up at the girl again, this time with fear in his eyes. "Camille Roberts?" He was sure it was her, even without her short brown waves.
"Bingo," Camille exclaimed, giggling maniacally. She pulled him by the collar of his dress shirt and kissed him, forcing herself against him. The position was awkward: Camille was on top of him, straddling his waist.
It was all so wrong, but for some sick reason, Logan was loving the feeling. Letting hormones take over, he clawed at the zipper on Camille's back, pulling it down halfway. Before Logan could take off her dress, Camille jumped off of him.
Camille smiled at the flustered, embarrassed look on Logan's face. "Boner alert! It's so easy to turn you on. I don't get why you broke up with me in the first place."
"You and one of my best friends kissed!" Logan screeched, trying to cover the tent he was now pitching. The bulge was humiliatingly noticeable. "Camille, we're in the past. Nothing is left between us. Can't you just let me go?" This wasn't the Camille he had used to know. She had changed, and not in a good way.
"Logan, don't you get it?" Camille asked. Logan was too afraid to shake his head; he just gulped and waited for Camille to go on. "I'm not letting you go until you're mine."
A/N: Camille has definitely gone crazy. Logan is 26 in this story, so Camille is too. What are your thoughts on this so far? Where do you think they are? Let me know!