The New Addiction [The OC; Ryan/Kirsten]
TITLE: The New Addiction
CHAPTER 2: The Deal
FANDOM: The OC
PAIRING: Ryan/Kirsten
SPOILERS: Early season four
RATING: Pretty intense R here
SUMMARY:
*****
Kirsten's suspicions about the motorcycle were confirmed after the first several seconds of her first ride -- she was going to become an addict. Luckily, this addiction wasn't as hazardous to her health as the last one had been. It was just hazardous to her marriage.
"Holding on tight?" Ryan yelled at her as they sped down the street and out of their gated community.
"Absolutely!" The flirtation still hadn't left her tone; with her arms wrapped tight around him, it was impossible to get rid of it.
They rode to Balboa Island, where they decided to stop for a couple of Balboa Bars. When they hopped off the motorcycle, Kirsten's hair was adorably wind-ruffled and she was certain her cheeks were bright pink. She knew for sure they were when Ryan smiled at her affectionately.
"So? What do you think?" He held out his arms and Kirsten allowed her eyes to flicker over him briefly.
If she was reading too much into that question, she could've easily thought he was asking what she thought of him, but luckily she knew better. "Not bad for a first ride," she downright purred, letting him lead her by the hand through the crowded boardwalk to the nearest ice cream stand.
An overwhelming sense of freedom had settled over her when they first left the driveway -- she wasn't sure if it was the speed, the feel of the motorcycle purring and vibrating beneath her, the warm wind whipping all around them, or the fact that she was pressed tight against her desire. Whatever it was gave her quite the rush of endorphins. Kirsten felt as if she could fly.
"Really?" Ryan finally responded to her comment, handing her a Balboa Bar with a smile. "I hope you don't take offense to this, but... you don't really seem the type to like motorcycles."
"I'm not," Kirsten giggled (she giggled. What was wrong with her?) and started walking from the ice cream stand, waiting for him to fall in line beside her. "But... what can I say? The time seemed right to give it a try." She tilted her head and watched him take a bite of his own Balboa Bar, trying not to watch his lips too closely. "Plus, I knew you'd be careful with me."
"Of course." Ryan squeezed her hand gently and Kirsten marveled at how easily their relationship could bend and sway. Minutes ago she was wanting to slam him up against a wall somewhere and touch every inch of his body with her lips. Now, strolling along Balboa Island with the sun starting to set, she wanted to be held by him.
They strolled over to the pier and leaned against the railing, staring down at the ocean. "So what really made you buy the motorcycle?" she asked, blinking slowly and licking some stray ice cream off her hand.
When she looked up again she was almost startled by how avidly he was watching her. Then, as if realizing what he was doing, he blinked rapidly a few times and cleared his throat. "Uh... well, like I said -- boxing's not working for me anymore. I needed a different... outlet, I guess, for my frustration."
"I thought you had kind of made your peace with what happened. I mean... Volchok's in custody now, so..."
"Yeah. I know. The anger just still bubbles up from time to time. It'll take awhile, but it'll go away."
"Yeah," Kirsten smiled. "You'll be fine in no time."
"And anytime I do feel the anger start to build up, I can just ride off on this for awhile."
"Feel like taking me with ever again?"
His grin sent her heart into palpitations. "Whenever you want."
*****
That was the deal they'd struck -- anytime Ryan felt angry, they'd go for a ride. Kirsten was able to play it off with Sandy as nothing -- he was a safe driver and since he was angry, she felt the need to go with to make sure he didn't get into any kind of trouble. As usual, it was easier to play it off as being from a mothering perspective than telling Sandy the truth.
With every ride, tension spiked higher and higher -- her urges were getting harder and harder to control. Ryan continued to wear snug-fitting jeans and tight tee shirts on each ride, and Kirsten wore jeans each time, purely because she got a strange but pleasant surge of desire every time their jean-clad legs would touch. There was something almost... adolescent about it. She felt like a schoolgirl-gone-bad -- the good girl that fell for the bad biker boy. And she was almost embarrassed to think it, but there was something almost inherently... naughty... about these rides.
Every time, she rode with her arms wrapped tight around Ryan's midsection. And sometimes, mid-ride, she'd allow herself the indulgence of sliding her hands slowly up his chest, to his shoulders, where she'd clasp him and hang on tight, her mouth resting ever-so-innocently against his upper shoulder blade. And every time she did this, Ryan would cock his head over his shoulder for only a second and give her this smirk. It was sexy and devilish and made Kirsten want to have him pull over so she could kiss the hell out of him.
With it being late October, Kirsten started wearing long-sleeved shirts, and Ryan would wear his leather jacket. Often times, before heading home from a ride, Kirsten would be the one wearing the jacket, her teeth chattering. Ryan teased her that she couldn't come out with him anymore if she was going to be a freeze-baby, which always incited her to whack his arm playfully. She was starting to love not just riding with him and being alone with him, but riding in general. He taught her how to lean correctly when they were making turns or going around curves, and one time before they headed back, he let her sit on the front seat, offering to teach her how to drive it.
"Here, there's room for both of us. Slide on," he beckoned her one night, patting the miniscule space left on the front seat in front of him.
Kirsten did so, a bit hesitantly, straddling the bike slowly. When she was seated, she felt Ryan pull her close, his front pressed almost completely to her back. She tried not to focus on how he gripped her hips -- she tried not to think that maybe he teasingly ground himself against her just a little bit -- that was insane.
"Okay, now..." His honeyed voice rasped against every nerve ending in her body as he leaned slightly around her, lips right by her ear. His hands left her hips, tripped feather-lightly up her sides and over her arms to grasp her hands. This riding lesson was suddenly turning sexual, and Kirsten had no problem with it whatsoever. She sucked her breath in as inaudibly as she could as he brought her hands up to grasp the handlebars. "These are your handlebars." He moved her right hand over slightly, gripping it with her. "Here's your right handlebar accelerator. See?" He manipulated her hand to rev the engine a couple times.
Kirsten was listening to what he was saying, but she was fading in and out. She felt him pressed up against her, could feel every contour and every hard plane of his body, like a puzzle piece finally matching hers. His left hand went to her hip again, resting right where hip met thigh, his long fingers resting on her inner thigh. Kirsten was close to crumpling.
He moved her right hand over again, helping her grip another section of the handlebar. "This is your right side handlebar brake." He helped her manipulate it and Kirsten felt a change in tension on the bike before it was released. Then he showed her the left handlebar clutch and brake, the speed gauge and fuel gauge, and taught her how to work the pedals.
"So." Both his hands rested low on her hips again, and Kirsten swore she felt his thumbs stroking her hip bones. That honeyed baritone touched her ears again as he asked her lowly, "Ready to ride?"
Kirsten closed her eyes and slid back against him ever-so-slightly. When Ryan gripped her hips a little tighter, she smiled to herself, breath shallow. If he could spout off a double-entendre, then so could she. "Let's do it."
"Where to?" he asked next, sounding almost breathless. One hand had curved around to her stomach, and Kirsten knew it was no mistake -- nothing innocent -- in the way he pressed her back against him.
So just as breathlessly, with her heart pounding in her ears and her blood singing, she replied over her shoulder, "Somewhere quiet, and deserted."
*****
With Ryan's help, she was able to steer the motorcycle in a straight line, although he did most of the driving. They drove to a secluded parking lot by the beach -- a hotspot for surfers during the day but completely barren at night -- and rolled to a stop, the motorcycle purring as it idled.
Ryan reached around her and gently shut off the ignition, one hand still resting on her hip. "So you did pretty well!" he congratulated her.
Kirsten beamed, proud of herself. "Thank you," and watched his other hand fall from the ignition to her thigh.
Silence fell over them -- nothing but crashing waves and the faint noise of crickets surrounding them, and Kirsten wondered just what made her suggest that they drive somewhere secluded. "That was intense," she breathed.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I thought we were going to fall over a couple of times," she chuckled nervously. "My heart's pounding." Without thought, she grabbed his hand and placed it just above her heart -- why the hell did she just do that?
"Yeah, wow." His hand stayed where it was and Kirsten's breathing went shallow as she felt his hitting her neck. Her head tilted without her conscious consent and her eyes very nearly slipped closed.
Ryan ran his hand across her collarbone, across her shoulder, and back down to her hip. On the way down, his hand tickled down her side, accidentally grazing the side of her breast through her tanktop, and Kirsten couldn't control the gasp that escaped.
They both froze. She felt Ryan's arousal stirring against the small of her back, and their legs were still pressed close together. His right hand traveled up her thigh, to her hip, and when his fingers boldly traced the seam of her leg -- her bikini line, effectively -- his name shuddered out of her. "Ryan..."
She reached her arm back, her hand curving around the back of his neck, toying with the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. God, she wanted him so badly. This had spun so far out of control. His hand then moved from her inner thigh up to the safe harbor of her stomach, sliding across it and boldly dipping his pinky finger just under the waistband of her jeans.
Kirsten gasped again at the feel of his hand against her, against the skin that peeked out when her tanktop had ridden up during the drive. Her eyes snapped closed, her tingling body driving away all thoughts of anything but Ryan as he gently popped open the button of her jeans.
She was almost panting with desire and heard Ryan's shallow breaths in her ear -- felt his response hard against the small of her back -- as she let him drag the zipper down. Then his hand slid across her stomach, across the waistband of her now-exposed panties, and she whimpered, "Please."
She arched her back and effectively nudged his hand beneath her underwear, gasping when his fingers slid against her most intimate of areas. Her hands clutched his thighs as she arched into his touch, her head falling back against his shoulder. Two fingers gently thrust into her and she cried out, pleasure curling at her core. She had no idea, when she first climbed on that bike days ago, what she was in for.
Ryan played her expertly, fingers twisting within her while his thumb circled the bundle of nerves at her center. Kirsten's whole body was practically vibrating as she writhed against his hand, moaning his name over and over again. When his lips closed around her right earlobe and he exhaled softly into her ear, that was all it took. Her body went rigid, completely still as she cried out, stars bursting behind her closed eyes before she convulsed.
When her cries began to quiet and her head slowly stopped its spinning, Kirsten sunk back against Ryan as he gently withdrew his hand, resting it in the neutral place of her belly while his other arm wrapped around her waist. He nuzzled against her while she absently stroked up and down his thighs. She let out what little breath she had. "God, Ryan."
He moaned softly into her hair in response, holding her tighter. He was still hard against the small of her back, and Kirsten turned herself around on the bike, wrapping her legs around his waist. She grabbed his face and just barely met his eyes before she plundered his lips. The kiss was hard, hot... aggressive. Kirsten, still highly-turned on from his talented fingers, ground against him, inciting both of them to moan.
Ryan held her tight against him with his fingers digging into her hips. When their lips broke and he latched onto her earlobe, Kirsten moaned loudly. "Ryan..."
"Mmm?" He left open-mouthed kisses down her neck as his hands slid up her sides and around front, cupping the soft mounds of flesh through her tanktop.
She gasped and bucked against him, breaking away. "I think we need to ride to a hotel."
"We do?" Ryan pulled back, hazy-eyed and looking so sexily rumpled, Kirsten wanted to take him right there on the bike.
"Yes. I need you... so unbelievably bad."
"What about the pool house?"
"No." She shook her head adamantly, leaning in so that her lips teased his with every word out of her mouth. "This is going to be hard, fast..." She flicked his bottom lip with her tongue and smiled against him when a breathy moan cascaded past his lips, "And I want us to be able to be loud. So, we need a hotel. Sound like a deal?"
"Deal." Ryan kissed her hungrily again. "Let's go."
Kirsten swung herself around to the backseat, her arms and legs still wrapped around him, her lips pressing kisses to his shoulder blade as he started the ignition. Then, they tore off in the direction of the nearest hotel.
TBC
{x-posted to rystenlove}
CHAPTER 2: The Deal
FANDOM: The OC
PAIRING: Ryan/Kirsten
SPOILERS: Early season four
RATING: Pretty intense R here
SUMMARY:
*****
Kirsten's suspicions about the motorcycle were confirmed after the first several seconds of her first ride -- she was going to become an addict. Luckily, this addiction wasn't as hazardous to her health as the last one had been. It was just hazardous to her marriage.
"Holding on tight?" Ryan yelled at her as they sped down the street and out of their gated community.
"Absolutely!" The flirtation still hadn't left her tone; with her arms wrapped tight around him, it was impossible to get rid of it.
They rode to Balboa Island, where they decided to stop for a couple of Balboa Bars. When they hopped off the motorcycle, Kirsten's hair was adorably wind-ruffled and she was certain her cheeks were bright pink. She knew for sure they were when Ryan smiled at her affectionately.
"So? What do you think?" He held out his arms and Kirsten allowed her eyes to flicker over him briefly.
If she was reading too much into that question, she could've easily thought he was asking what she thought of him, but luckily she knew better. "Not bad for a first ride," she downright purred, letting him lead her by the hand through the crowded boardwalk to the nearest ice cream stand.
An overwhelming sense of freedom had settled over her when they first left the driveway -- she wasn't sure if it was the speed, the feel of the motorcycle purring and vibrating beneath her, the warm wind whipping all around them, or the fact that she was pressed tight against her desire. Whatever it was gave her quite the rush of endorphins. Kirsten felt as if she could fly.
"Really?" Ryan finally responded to her comment, handing her a Balboa Bar with a smile. "I hope you don't take offense to this, but... you don't really seem the type to like motorcycles."
"I'm not," Kirsten giggled (she giggled. What was wrong with her?) and started walking from the ice cream stand, waiting for him to fall in line beside her. "But... what can I say? The time seemed right to give it a try." She tilted her head and watched him take a bite of his own Balboa Bar, trying not to watch his lips too closely. "Plus, I knew you'd be careful with me."
"Of course." Ryan squeezed her hand gently and Kirsten marveled at how easily their relationship could bend and sway. Minutes ago she was wanting to slam him up against a wall somewhere and touch every inch of his body with her lips. Now, strolling along Balboa Island with the sun starting to set, she wanted to be held by him.
They strolled over to the pier and leaned against the railing, staring down at the ocean. "So what really made you buy the motorcycle?" she asked, blinking slowly and licking some stray ice cream off her hand.
When she looked up again she was almost startled by how avidly he was watching her. Then, as if realizing what he was doing, he blinked rapidly a few times and cleared his throat. "Uh... well, like I said -- boxing's not working for me anymore. I needed a different... outlet, I guess, for my frustration."
"I thought you had kind of made your peace with what happened. I mean... Volchok's in custody now, so..."
"Yeah. I know. The anger just still bubbles up from time to time. It'll take awhile, but it'll go away."
"Yeah," Kirsten smiled. "You'll be fine in no time."
"And anytime I do feel the anger start to build up, I can just ride off on this for awhile."
"Feel like taking me with ever again?"
His grin sent her heart into palpitations. "Whenever you want."
*****
That was the deal they'd struck -- anytime Ryan felt angry, they'd go for a ride. Kirsten was able to play it off with Sandy as nothing -- he was a safe driver and since he was angry, she felt the need to go with to make sure he didn't get into any kind of trouble. As usual, it was easier to play it off as being from a mothering perspective than telling Sandy the truth.
With every ride, tension spiked higher and higher -- her urges were getting harder and harder to control. Ryan continued to wear snug-fitting jeans and tight tee shirts on each ride, and Kirsten wore jeans each time, purely because she got a strange but pleasant surge of desire every time their jean-clad legs would touch. There was something almost... adolescent about it. She felt like a schoolgirl-gone-bad -- the good girl that fell for the bad biker boy. And she was almost embarrassed to think it, but there was something almost inherently... naughty... about these rides.
Every time, she rode with her arms wrapped tight around Ryan's midsection. And sometimes, mid-ride, she'd allow herself the indulgence of sliding her hands slowly up his chest, to his shoulders, where she'd clasp him and hang on tight, her mouth resting ever-so-innocently against his upper shoulder blade. And every time she did this, Ryan would cock his head over his shoulder for only a second and give her this smirk. It was sexy and devilish and made Kirsten want to have him pull over so she could kiss the hell out of him.
With it being late October, Kirsten started wearing long-sleeved shirts, and Ryan would wear his leather jacket. Often times, before heading home from a ride, Kirsten would be the one wearing the jacket, her teeth chattering. Ryan teased her that she couldn't come out with him anymore if she was going to be a freeze-baby, which always incited her to whack his arm playfully. She was starting to love not just riding with him and being alone with him, but riding in general. He taught her how to lean correctly when they were making turns or going around curves, and one time before they headed back, he let her sit on the front seat, offering to teach her how to drive it.
"Here, there's room for both of us. Slide on," he beckoned her one night, patting the miniscule space left on the front seat in front of him.
Kirsten did so, a bit hesitantly, straddling the bike slowly. When she was seated, she felt Ryan pull her close, his front pressed almost completely to her back. She tried not to focus on how he gripped her hips -- she tried not to think that maybe he teasingly ground himself against her just a little bit -- that was insane.
"Okay, now..." His honeyed voice rasped against every nerve ending in her body as he leaned slightly around her, lips right by her ear. His hands left her hips, tripped feather-lightly up her sides and over her arms to grasp her hands. This riding lesson was suddenly turning sexual, and Kirsten had no problem with it whatsoever. She sucked her breath in as inaudibly as she could as he brought her hands up to grasp the handlebars. "These are your handlebars." He moved her right hand over slightly, gripping it with her. "Here's your right handlebar accelerator. See?" He manipulated her hand to rev the engine a couple times.
Kirsten was listening to what he was saying, but she was fading in and out. She felt him pressed up against her, could feel every contour and every hard plane of his body, like a puzzle piece finally matching hers. His left hand went to her hip again, resting right where hip met thigh, his long fingers resting on her inner thigh. Kirsten was close to crumpling.
He moved her right hand over again, helping her grip another section of the handlebar. "This is your right side handlebar brake." He helped her manipulate it and Kirsten felt a change in tension on the bike before it was released. Then he showed her the left handlebar clutch and brake, the speed gauge and fuel gauge, and taught her how to work the pedals.
"So." Both his hands rested low on her hips again, and Kirsten swore she felt his thumbs stroking her hip bones. That honeyed baritone touched her ears again as he asked her lowly, "Ready to ride?"
Kirsten closed her eyes and slid back against him ever-so-slightly. When Ryan gripped her hips a little tighter, she smiled to herself, breath shallow. If he could spout off a double-entendre, then so could she. "Let's do it."
"Where to?" he asked next, sounding almost breathless. One hand had curved around to her stomach, and Kirsten knew it was no mistake -- nothing innocent -- in the way he pressed her back against him.
So just as breathlessly, with her heart pounding in her ears and her blood singing, she replied over her shoulder, "Somewhere quiet, and deserted."
*****
With Ryan's help, she was able to steer the motorcycle in a straight line, although he did most of the driving. They drove to a secluded parking lot by the beach -- a hotspot for surfers during the day but completely barren at night -- and rolled to a stop, the motorcycle purring as it idled.
Ryan reached around her and gently shut off the ignition, one hand still resting on her hip. "So you did pretty well!" he congratulated her.
Kirsten beamed, proud of herself. "Thank you," and watched his other hand fall from the ignition to her thigh.
Silence fell over them -- nothing but crashing waves and the faint noise of crickets surrounding them, and Kirsten wondered just what made her suggest that they drive somewhere secluded. "That was intense," she breathed.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I thought we were going to fall over a couple of times," she chuckled nervously. "My heart's pounding." Without thought, she grabbed his hand and placed it just above her heart -- why the hell did she just do that?
"Yeah, wow." His hand stayed where it was and Kirsten's breathing went shallow as she felt his hitting her neck. Her head tilted without her conscious consent and her eyes very nearly slipped closed.
Ryan ran his hand across her collarbone, across her shoulder, and back down to her hip. On the way down, his hand tickled down her side, accidentally grazing the side of her breast through her tanktop, and Kirsten couldn't control the gasp that escaped.
They both froze. She felt Ryan's arousal stirring against the small of her back, and their legs were still pressed close together. His right hand traveled up her thigh, to her hip, and when his fingers boldly traced the seam of her leg -- her bikini line, effectively -- his name shuddered out of her. "Ryan..."
She reached her arm back, her hand curving around the back of his neck, toying with the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. God, she wanted him so badly. This had spun so far out of control. His hand then moved from her inner thigh up to the safe harbor of her stomach, sliding across it and boldly dipping his pinky finger just under the waistband of her jeans.
Kirsten gasped again at the feel of his hand against her, against the skin that peeked out when her tanktop had ridden up during the drive. Her eyes snapped closed, her tingling body driving away all thoughts of anything but Ryan as he gently popped open the button of her jeans.
She was almost panting with desire and heard Ryan's shallow breaths in her ear -- felt his response hard against the small of her back -- as she let him drag the zipper down. Then his hand slid across her stomach, across the waistband of her now-exposed panties, and she whimpered, "Please."
She arched her back and effectively nudged his hand beneath her underwear, gasping when his fingers slid against her most intimate of areas. Her hands clutched his thighs as she arched into his touch, her head falling back against his shoulder. Two fingers gently thrust into her and she cried out, pleasure curling at her core. She had no idea, when she first climbed on that bike days ago, what she was in for.
Ryan played her expertly, fingers twisting within her while his thumb circled the bundle of nerves at her center. Kirsten's whole body was practically vibrating as she writhed against his hand, moaning his name over and over again. When his lips closed around her right earlobe and he exhaled softly into her ear, that was all it took. Her body went rigid, completely still as she cried out, stars bursting behind her closed eyes before she convulsed.
When her cries began to quiet and her head slowly stopped its spinning, Kirsten sunk back against Ryan as he gently withdrew his hand, resting it in the neutral place of her belly while his other arm wrapped around her waist. He nuzzled against her while she absently stroked up and down his thighs. She let out what little breath she had. "God, Ryan."
He moaned softly into her hair in response, holding her tighter. He was still hard against the small of her back, and Kirsten turned herself around on the bike, wrapping her legs around his waist. She grabbed his face and just barely met his eyes before she plundered his lips. The kiss was hard, hot... aggressive. Kirsten, still highly-turned on from his talented fingers, ground against him, inciting both of them to moan.
Ryan held her tight against him with his fingers digging into her hips. When their lips broke and he latched onto her earlobe, Kirsten moaned loudly. "Ryan..."
"Mmm?" He left open-mouthed kisses down her neck as his hands slid up her sides and around front, cupping the soft mounds of flesh through her tanktop.
She gasped and bucked against him, breaking away. "I think we need to ride to a hotel."
"We do?" Ryan pulled back, hazy-eyed and looking so sexily rumpled, Kirsten wanted to take him right there on the bike.
"Yes. I need you... so unbelievably bad."
"What about the pool house?"
"No." She shook her head adamantly, leaning in so that her lips teased his with every word out of her mouth. "This is going to be hard, fast..." She flicked his bottom lip with her tongue and smiled against him when a breathy moan cascaded past his lips, "And I want us to be able to be loud. So, we need a hotel. Sound like a deal?"
"Deal." Ryan kissed her hungrily again. "Let's go."
Kirsten swung herself around to the backseat, her arms and legs still wrapped around him, her lips pressing kisses to his shoulder blade as he started the ignition. Then, they tore off in the direction of the nearest hotel.
TBC
{x-posted to rystenlove}