Title: A Man's Kiss is his Signature.
Author:cheekymice
Rating: Um…NC17
Beta: brandywine421. Thanks Brandy.
Disclaimer: I don't own The OC, Ryan or Benjamin McKenzie.
Story: Post finale AU
Notes: For elzed, mel39, monnie and everyone else who's recently had a birthday!

A Mans's Kiss is his Signature

There are usually three categories. The first are the men that use a kiss as a means purely to get in your pants. You can tell that they aren't really into it and are just going through the motions until they reach ground zero. That's their only goal and it's so damn obvious. That guy was the type that read the last page of a crime novel first and sex was usually a letdown.

The second are the men with no finesse, they think that slipping you the tongue immediately is the way to go and you just know with men like that the sex is going to be a huge letdown. His dick is going to be inside you before you can blink and just as quickly it'll be over and he'll be self-satisfied and smug thinking he's given you the ride of your life. In my experience a dull fuck usually always followed the 'no finesse' kiss.

Then there is the 'romantic', a guy who gently kisses you for hours whilst all the while thinking about marriage and two point four children, the whole package. You run from that man as quickly as possible before he starts phoning you every two minutes to find out how you are and to tell you that he's been thinking about you. Sex with a 'romantic' was nice but predictable like a warm pair of pyjamas. He'll take over your life in a heartbeat and suffocate you. I know, I've had my fair share of 'romantics' and I even married one, as it had seemed like a good idea at the time. I was young.

But there is a little known fourth category…one which is almost redundant as this man is as rare as rocking horse shit. The unicorn, I call him, not that there is anything remotely innocent or pure about him; my friends and I came up with the stupid term many years ago when we were drunk and all bemoaning the lack of real men on campus because he's just as rare and every woman dreams of finding one. He kisses like he wants to be part of you. He enjoys it and he's happy to oblige whether you want more or not but of course you always want more of what 'the unicorn' has got, you i never /i turn him down. He's a purebred stallion in bed but he doesn't possess the ego to know it. He's strong, with a hint of animal danger about him but better than that he's there when you want him and he disappears like the mythical creature when you don't. He offers you the best of both worlds…. oh and he's got the horn big time…hence the 'unicorn'.

I'd stopped actively looking for a 'unicorn' many years ago; the men in Newport were weak and almost certainly fell into the first three categories. I was always disappointed. I was on my third marriage. As I said, the first was a 'romantic'. My second was definitely 'no finesse' - I was a commodity to him. I thought I was playing him but it seemed like he had the upper hand all along when he up and died leaving me with nothing. My latest husband gave me hope that I'd finally found the right man. He was rich, which was a good place to start, but he was also kind and dependable. I needed that after my daughter died. He was there for me but he soon drifted away as work consumed him again and believe me - there is a hell of a lot of work for a plastic surgeon in Orange County. I hardly ever saw him and I was lucky if we had sex once a month, he definitely fell into the first category now.

And I'd gone searching again.

A few dalliances later and I still felt empty and frustrated.

Everyone had moved on and no one talked about Marissa anymore. It was like she had ceased to exist now. You weren't allowed to grieve beyond that timeframe here in Newport. Shallow was the order of the day and if you showed more than your allotted quota of emotion then your friends got uncomfortable and you were considered fit for the funny farm. Kirsten understood how I felt but I didn't need the affection of a woman, I wanted find my 'unicorn' I felt like I deserved something good in my life.

Then one day I'd found what I was looking for where and when I'd least expected.

Kirsten and Sandy were having a party to celebrate his return to the PD's office. I felt like I'd had to go because Kirsten had been a real friend to me but I seriously didn't want to be there. Neil had cried off, citing work, and I began to hate the people I'd once wanted to court. I was spoiling for a fight and I knew just where to go to get one. I'd found him skulking in the semi-darkness in his room in the pool house and one look at his face told me that he was just as thrilled as me that there was a party going on and he'd been forced to attend. I must confess that the only thing that had kept me going since the death of my daughter was picking fights with Ryan. I didn't blame him in the least for what had happened, the police report had totally exonerated him but we had too much history and I needed someone to hate and blame so I fell back on using Ryan as a scapegoat. I was impressed that no matter how vile I was to him, he obviously had never bitched about me to Kirsten or Sandy. He took whatever I threw at him with the fortitude of someone far older. He got upset - sometimes even angry - at my words but he never let that anger out even though I expected him to blow up at me one of these days. He just let me use him as a virtual punching bag for some reason. But something was off tonight, he'd told me in a flat voice that he wasn't in the mood; but that didn't stop me. I let rip taking out all my frustrations on him, I felt insecure that Neil wasn't coming home until after eleven some nights and I took it all out on Ryan.

The usual tirade followed, how things had been better for everyone before he arrived and how he'd ruined my daughter's life. I really didn't mean it anymore but by saying those things it somehow kept Marissa alive for me, it added some sort of continuity to my life. What I didn't notice was that there was something dark going on behind Ryan's eyes and before I knew it - he was up off his bed and standing in front of me. It flashed through my mind that I'd finally gone too far. I actually felt scared as he stared at me as if he was summing up what he was going to do and I didn't say a word. It did cross my mind that he was going to hit me as he was breathing fast and had his fists clenched. I thought that the best thing to do would be to walk away before both of us had to explain our actions because I knew that Kirsten and Sandy would not buy that Ryan had snapped of his own accord and maybe Ryan would finally tell them how much of a bitch I'd been. I tried to turn away from him but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I was about to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing and to get his hands off me when he did something that I was not expecting.

He moved forward and kissed me. I didn't have a chance to slap him because my brain short-circuited. His lips were soft and warm but he kissed me hard. One of his hands threaded its way through my hair and none too gently, he pulled my head closer to him. His mouth made the sexiest noises as he kissed - little moist smacks of turbulence that pulled on my stomach muscles and made my legs weak. He worked up and down my neck, my collarbone, my ears, and then he'd be back at my mouth. Fuck, he could kiss and I knew that I'd found my unicorn and unfortunately he was the worst possible person. Good sense should have had me slapping him across the face as I'd intended but his tongue then found its way into my mouth and I knew this was going to go all the way…I think we both knew then. He stepped back from me and looked into my eyes; I saw surprise there as if he hadn't meant to start this. I didn't let him have second thoughts, I needed this. I pulled him by his belt loops back towards me. I actually felt breathless when I felt him hard against my leg and for the first time since Marissa died I felt alive. We kissed like the teenager he was… we weren't in any hurry. It did cross my mind that this was not the best place for this to be happening as the chances we might get caught were high but that just added to it all. It felt good, so good.

This felt different to me, oh it wasn't the first time I'd taken something that belonged to my daughter, but what was different this time was that Ryan was no Luke. I always felt like Luke was like a big overgrown kid being offered a piece of candy. I don't think Luke was in the same league as Ryan even though he was about the same age. There was nothing remotely tentative about the way Ryan used his hands. He didn't go for the testosterone-fuelled grabbing of my ass and boobs, instead his hands skimmed and danced over my body and it was far more erotic than it should have been. He alternated between pressing himself into me and pulling away and it drove me crazy knowing that he was as charged up as I was. I wanted him sexually and it wasn't my usual bored game playing…I seriously wanted him and it shook me.

Usually I liked playing with fire but this went way beyond that.

My voice as sounded strange to my own ears when I told him we shouldn't be doing this. I was the adult here. He stopped kissing behind my ear and ran his thumb across my lips slowly and replied softly and huskily that 'no, we shouldn't.' I felt deeply disappointed at his easy acquiescence. I actually felt like a girl on a prom date that expected to be felt up but my date wasn't delivering. I was not used to having such feelings. He said again that this was a 'really bad idea' and common sense should have agreed with him but I couldn't think that way right now, as my whole body was alive with unleashed energy. I was just about to go postal on his ass for being a total cunt tease when he pulled me hurriedly up the ramp that led into his bathroom; he slammed the door shut behind us and turned on the light. Safer, he told me and I liked the way he thought.

It became a battle of wills as to who was leading whom, I didn't like to relinquish control but it appeared that nether did Ryan. We bounced of the walls and bumped into the toilet and sink as we pulled at each other's clothes. I yanked his tie off over his head and unbuttoned his shirt with shaking hands. He paused enough to let me and I thought I'd won the struggle but as I went for his belt he ducked away from me and knelt down. He must have unzipped my dress at some point because when he kneeled he pulled the straps off my shoulders and my dress sunk around my feet. He looked slightly ruffled when he couldn't but help notice that I was sans underwear but I smiled primly- after all I i was /i Julie Cooper hyphen Nichol hyphen Roberts - and I elegantly stepped out of the expensive puddle of chiffon fearing what my spike heeled stilettos would do. He got up and draped it carefully over the shower rail thus endearing him to me for life. It was a rare thing, a man that understood the necessity of being able to rejoin a party after a tryst without looking like you'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. I wondered how Ryan learnt this and felt a pang of maternal anger that this boy had laid his hands on my daughter I then had to quickly backtrack as he knelt back down. I'd been yearning for this type of contact and any man who swatted your hands away from his own groin and chose to go down on you, you let him.

His tongue alone nearly made me climax. Most men used a technique of thrashing their tongue around down there in the hope that they'd hit upon the right spot eventually. Ryan did not. He knew what he was doing and why, expertly parting my lips and homing in on my clit. He sucked, he licked. His tongue flicked indecently and he softy blew air on me in a concentrated effort that had me pulling at his hair and set my stomach muscles jumping. I'd never gotten off completely that way but he should've been proud that he damn near made me come with just his mouth. He finally made me so sensitive that I was near screaming and couldn't take anymore and I pulled him upwards.

Ryan shirtless was like looking at a censored version of 'David' although I hoped he was hung better than the statue, he certainly appeared to be if the hard ridge was anything to go by. I wanted to see what he was packing underneath his pants but I couldn't resist tasting myself on his lips. I captured his head between my hands and devoured his mouth again. He walked me back so I hit the wall again, I could feel his own hands undoing his belt buckle and he dropped his pants with a clatter to the floor and he didn't break away from my mouth as he lifted me up so my legs hugged his hips and I could feel his hardness pressing against me. I should have asked him to wear a condom, as god knows where he'd been apart… no, I wouldn't think about that.

His hands were cupping my ass so I reached between us and angled his cock, he pressed inside me with a hurried abandon that I matched as I clung on. He started to pound into me hard and fast with the energy of the first flush of youth. My shoulder knocked into the shelf next to us, cans of deodorant and tubs of hair gel scattered across the floor. It was like a scene from a farce as he over compensated to get me away from the shelf, his pants around his ankles, and I knocked over the stack of towels that sat on top of the laundry basket but there was nothing remotely farcical about the way he fucked and the hotness of his lips and the way he filled me completely. He was breathing heavily into my neck and that coupled with the feel of his fingers squeezing my ass made my insides clench and sent goose bumps up my spine – which would be totally bruised in the morning by the way he banged me hard against the wall each time he thrust – I came with a soft cry as my orgasm came out of nowhere. He slowed and let me ride it out before he resumed his frantic pace. When he came there was no big show, he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes as he shuddered.

We dressed in silence and I fully expected him not to look me in the eye but he did.

'No one can find out about this' was all he eventually said. I agreed. Kirsten and Sandy would actually kill me I believe if they found out what we'd...I'd done. He ran his hand through his hair smoothing it back in place and opened the bathroom door, looking out to check the coast was clear. He sat down on the bed and I noticed how old he looked. How guilty. Yeah well, I wasn't feeling too proud of myself right then.

I felt like I had to at least hold out the olive branch after that so I asked him why he was so down tonight. He paused for a long time before he answered but when he did I'm sure he meant to hurt me with his reply as he said it so nonchalantly as if it meant nothing before walking off.

Tonight was apparently the anniversary of when he'd first slept with my daughter.

Fin?