BONUS SCENE #1: Temptation

Rating: Y

Warning: Language, sexual situations

Word Count: 4,691

Summary: Two weeks prior to the events in Secrets. Stacy spends the night with Ryan under unexpected circumstances, and learns more about herself and her relationship than she bargained for.


Ryan and Stacy pressed through the crowd of the still packed-out bar, grateful for the chance to breathe in the fresh, cool night air as they exited the building. "That's one thing about the theater guys," Ryan mused, drawing Stacy into his side as they squeezed past those still waiting to gain entrance. "They might not be able to act, but they can throw one hell of a party!"

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm glad we decided to come, even though the play was – well…"

"Bad?" Ryan suggested.

Stacy nodded, a blush rising to her cheeks as she wrinkled her nose slightly at the memory. Student theater productions were always iffy, but this one was especially bad. The only reason they'd even gone was because Jason, Ryan's roommate, had a pretty hefty supporting role in the play. Stacy didn't think she'd ever experienced so much secondhand embarrassment, and one look at her boyfriend suggested Ryan felt the same way. They'd left the theater as soon as the show was over, but they weren't quite able to escape before Jason found them and invited them to the wrap party as his guests.

They'd been reluctant to go, but Jason was so excited – and gazed at them so pleadingly that Stacy began to suspect that he had no other friends – that they quickly acquiesced. The party was held on the roof of the Heights Bar & Grill a couple of blocks from the theater, and it had certainly been an experience for Stacy. She'd been into the city countless times, but she'd never had a bird's eye view of Broadway at night before, all of the marquees lit up in full glory. It had been simply breathtaking.

Ryan tightened the brace of his arm around Stacy's shoulders, bringing her thoughts spiraling back down to the present. "So you had a good time?" he queried, glancing at her.

She smiled, burrowing closer into his side. "I always do when I'm with you," she replied happily. Her smile deepened, and she found herself unable to resist teasing him – "Even when you're a cheap date."

Ryan chuckled. "And yet, you love me in spite of my cheapness," he returned loftily. "How did I ever get so lucky?"

Stacy drew to a halt, closing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his shoulder. How did you get so lucky? she wondered silently. More like – how did I? She breathed deeply, feeling herself melt into him as he returned the embrace, the arm at her shoulders drifting down over her back, his free hand brushing her hair from her brow, his thumb tracing the shell of her ear as his fingers swept past. Her eyes slipped shut as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, the rest of the world falling away around them. For a moment, she reveled in the security and strength of this warm, close embrace, this powerful, intense way he made her feel, like she was the only person in the universe.

"Why can't we stay like this forever?" she sighed longingly.

"Well," he mused in response, the word reverberating through his chest and into hers, sending a delicious shiver racing down her spine. "I suppose eventually, we'd have to go to the bathroom."

Stacy groaned, pushing away from him and rolling her eyes, but she couldn't suppress her smile. His humorous remark broke the heady tension that had been building between them, and that was probably for the best, considering…

"Oh, shit," she breathed, glancing down at her watch. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

Ryan frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked, reaching for her hand.

"That cannot be the time," she moaned.

He twisted her wrist slightly, bringing her watch up for a closer inspection. He furrowed his brow as he glanced back at her questioningly.

"I was supposed to be home two hours ago!" she burst out, breaking away from him. Her stomach sank. "My parents are going to kill me."

Ryan shook his head, still not understanding her sudden panic. "Why don't you just stay with your sister?"

"I can't stay with Renee," she sighed. "Guests are only allowed to spend five days a month with a student on campus, and I've already used up my allotted time for this month!" She swallowed hard, still staring at her watch, wishing that she could simply will time backward. "What am I going to do?"

Ryan clasped her shoulders. "Why don't you stay with me?" he suggested.

Stacy's heart stopped. Shock coursed through her, and she found she couldn't quite meet his gaze. "W-what?" she whispered.

"Look, it's late," he reasoned. "You probably shouldn't take the train alone at this time of night. And, well, I don't want to take you home and face your parents' wrath about you being late, or you being out with me. So – why don't you just stay with me tonight, and go back first thing in the morning?"

She quickly considered her options. It was a no-win situation – she could risk life and limb taking the last train back to Brooklyn by herself (an idea that scared the shit out of her, even as a native New Yorker), only to come face-to-face with her parents, who'd probably never let her travel into the city alone again. Oh, they liked Ryan well enough, but they only grudgingly accepted the idea of their sixteen-year-old daughter dating a nineteen-year-old college student. The only reason she was allowed at all was because Renee was close enough to keep an eye on her. So, Ryan showing up on their doorstep at two o'clock in the morning with her in tow would not exactly endear him to her parents.

Then, there was Renee. Security at her sister's dorm was ridiculously tight, and they made exceptions for no one, which she'd already learned the hard way. As a guest, she had to sign in and out and leave her ID with the guard, who knew her on sight by now. It was hard enough skirting the five-days-a-month rule as it was, and she knew there was no way she could sneak in. That left –

"I promise I won't try anything," Ryan said, breaking into her thoughts. He cupped her cheek with one hand, lifting her chin to meet her gaze. "That is, of course, unless you want me to," he amended playfully.

She inhaled sharply as her eyes fell to his mouth. That was just it – Stacy wasn't sure she could trust herself to be around him and not give in to temptation. Their attraction was so powerful that it scared her sometimes – and they had already grown very close in a relatively short amount of time. Still, she wasn't sure she was ready to take another step, especially not now, when she was already in so much trouble with her parents.

She swallowed hard, averting her eyes as a hot flush coated the back of her neck. "Won't your roommate mind?" she asked, hating the way her voice cracked at the end of the question.

He smoothed his hands across her shoulders in a soothing caress as he studied her. "We have a system," he replied with a smile.

"We-ell…" She hesitated, lifting her gaze back to his, only to find kind reassurance there. She bit her lip. "Okay."

He drew her into a light embrace, pressing another kiss to her temple. "Let's go," he directed softly, turning and leading her to the end of the block.

She clung to him as they crossed Broadway against the raucous sea of humanity flowing out of the theaters, trying to put her worry and hesitation out of her mind. She couldn't help but think of how much she would otherwise enjoy this impulsive decision to accompany him back to his dorm, if not for the fact that her parents were probably worried sick about her. She hated how guilty she suddenly felt, especially considering how magical the evening had turned out, dancing on the roof of a bar with her boyfriend under the bright lights of Broadway…

She was startled when he suddenly dropped her hand, only barely registering the fact that they'd made it back to his dorm when she realized he was digging into his pocket for his keys. They ducked into a side entrance of the building; almost immediately, he pulled her into a stairwell. Her heart raced as they climbed the stairs in silence, and it took her longer than it should have to figure out that he was sneaking her in. Emotions tumbled through her all at once: excitement, recklessness, trepidation, anticipation. Her breath was short in her lungs as they finally came to his floor; they stumbled out into the hallway, lit only by a dim overhead light.

The corridor was quiet as they headed for his room. Stacy couldn't decide if that meant his neighbors were out, or trying to sleep. She'd heard from her sister that McBain was the social center of the campus universe on the weekends, so it struck her as odd and eerie that it was stone silent, even though it was well after midnight.

She nearly collided with Ryan when he came to an abrupt halt in front of a corner door. "Here we are," he murmured under his breath. "Home sweet home."

He turned the lock and stepped inside, reaching back for her hand and guiding her into the pitch black room. Just as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, he switched on his desk lamp, illuminating the space in a soft, golden glow.

"Looks like we're alone," Ryan observed, glancing around, his eyes landing on his roommate's unkempt bed.

Stacy was looking around as well, and she couldn't get past how tiny the space was. The room was roughly the size of Renee's, and yet it was jam packed with furniture: two small desks, two narrow closets…two single beds. "Wow," she breathed nervously.

Ryan caught her attention when he crossed her path, reaching into his closet and extracting a bright red tie. She watched him curiously as he looped it around his neck and tied it loosely, only to pull it over his head and head back towards the door. "What's that?" she inquired.

"The system," he replied, slipping the tie over the knob on the outside of the door before closing it.

Stacy's eyes widened at the implication. "You don't have to do that," she yelped, pointing to the door.

"Relax," he assured her, pulling her into his arms. "All it means is that I don't want him coming back to the room tonight." He gazed her for a long moment, his dark green eyes intense as they bore into hers. "That's all it means."

A blush stole across her cheeks. "I don't want your roommate to be homeless, just because I'm here," she sputtered.

"He won't mind," Ryan responded, "and it's only for the night. Besides, he owes me," he added with a playful smile. "I've spent more time on the sofa in the lounge than I have in my own bed this semester."

She relented, twining her arms around his neck, her eyes falling closed as his mouth found hers. True to form, the kiss was sweet and gentle, his lips warm and pliant on hers. He tightened the brace of his arms around her, his hands drifting up the planes of her back and into her hair, drawing her body into his, and she yielded to him without resistance. A curl of heat ignited in her abdomen as their kisses deepened, but try as she might to concentrate on all of the wonderful sensations flowing through her at his nearness, she couldn't quite push the niggling doubt and anxiety from her mind and lose herself in the moment.

She broke away, exhaling sharply. "I'm sorry," she whispered, shame washing through her as she pushed the words from her throat. She let him go, her eyes falling to the floor, unable to meet his gaze.

He cleared his throat. "It's okay," he replied heavily after a moment. "I, um, I think the first train leaves pretty early in the morning anyway, right?"

She nodded silently, biting her lip as tears of embarrassment welled behind her eyes. He was – and always had been – so gentle with her whenever they were intimate, never aggressive or pushy, which only made her feel even worse about disappointing him. She recognized this prime opportunity, and she knew he'd be kind and romantic wonderful, but she just couldn't. Not like this, with her mind clogged with worry and fear and apprehension.

He sensed her hesitation, reaching for to her, running his hand through her hair and pressing it behind her ear before cupping her cheek. "Really, Stace," he reiterated softly. "It's okay."

She chanced to glance up at him, and he nodded reassuringly, a slow smile curving his lips. Her heart hammered in her chest as he leaned forward, and she was nearly startled out of her skin when she heard the drawer behind her slide open.

"Do you want something else to wear?" he asked, directing her attention back to the drawer.

She flushed again, her embarrassment renewed as she glanced down at herself. She had given exactly zero thought to the fact that they would still be sleeping together that night, even if they didn't have sex. "I, um, well – " she stuttered, beginning to tremble nervously and hating herself for it. He must think I'm a total baby, she thought to herself.

But, mercifully, Ryan was paying her no heed, giving her his back when he turned to his desk. "I'll be back," he said, plucking up his toothbrush. "Take all the time you need, okay?" He didn't look at her before heading out of the room.

Stacy glanced up into the mirror attached to the bureau, cringing at the sad, scared reflection she saw there. You are a baby, she admonished herself, kicking out of her shoes. No wonder he left, if that's what he had to deal with. She suppressed her tears as she pushed the drawer closed. It was awkward enough as it was; she couldn't imagine how she'd feel if she wore his clothes to sleep in his bed. She glanced down at herself again, deciding she could make it through a couple of uncomfortable hours in jeans and a scoop-neck cotton shirt. She reached under her top, unhooking her bra and balling it in her hands as mortification washed through her.

How as she ever going to explain this to her parents? She kept clothes at Renee's, just for this very reason.

Before she could change her mind, she dropped her bra on the floor next to her shoes, switched off his desk lamp, and dove into his bed, burrowing under the covers and pressing herself as close and as flat against the wall as she could. Even though the room was dark, she squeezed her eyes shut, holding herself tense and quiet and still, wondering if she'd ever be able to calm her anxious thoughts enough to sleep.

Sometime later, she heard the door swing open again, the dim light from the hall pouring in momentarily. She clutched her hands to her chest, hoping it was her boyfriend but too scared to turn around and actually look. When his desk lamp illuminated again, she relaxed a bit, turning her face into the pillow to blot out the light as she listened to his final preparations for bed. He was quiet, perhaps thinking her already asleep; she could clearly make out the soft thud of his toothbrush falling to his desk, the rustle of his clothes as he changed, and the final click of the lamp as it was once again turned off.

Ryan sighed in the darkness, pulling back the sheets of the bed and climbing in beside her. Stacy's heart thumped heavily in her chest as she felt the mattress sink beneath his weight. His back was warm against hers, their shoulders almost touching. She curled into a ball on her side, clasping her arms around her knees, the denim of her jeans rough against her skin.

"Goodnight, Stacy," he whispered softly.

Goodnight, she thought, the word forming and dying on her lips.

.xxxxx.

Sunlight streamed, unfiltered, into the room, warming Stacy's face even before she opened her eyes. She breathed deeply, burrowing further into the bed, not yet ready to admit that her mind was rising to consciousness. She felt completely and totally relaxed, having had the best, most restful sleep she could ever remember. Slowly, she became aware of her body – she was lying on her side, her head tucked into the pillow, her legs long and lazy and tangled up in the sheets, the material of her jeans scratchy against her thighs. She felt incredibly warm, warmer than sleeping in her clothes or laying in sunlight would suggest, and finally, she opened her eyes.

For a moment, she stared at the blank white wall in front of her, confused and disoriented. Slowly, she became aware of the warm, solid weight of the arm draped around her, and the way her own arm lay over it, following the curve of the hand across her abdomen. She heard soft breathing from behind her, felt the rise and fall of a chest against her back, the warm cradle of hips nestled so intimately against her own. A little thrill of pleasure scored her spine as she glanced down, curling her fingers around her boyfriend's where he held her. She drew his hand up, over the valley between her breasts, and pressed a light, fleeting kiss to the backs of his fingers.

He sighed in his sleep.

Her lips curled up in a small, secret smile, and she tilted her head back, careful not to move so much that she'd wake him – she wanted to savor this rare, tranquil moment. His head rested in the curve of her shoulder, his mouth tantalizingly close, his breath whispering against her skin in a deep, regular rhythm. Her heart began to pick up speed as she gazed at him, loving the way his dark hair tumbled over his forehead, resisting the urge to reach out with her free hand and brush it back. She didn't think it possible to find him any more devastatingly gorgeous than she already did, but somehow, his features were even more breathtaking in repose – the soft line of his brow, the delicate crest of his cheekbones, the sculpted perfection of his mouth.

She shifted slightly, wanting to have a better look at him, but he resisted, tightening his hold on her and pressing his head further into the hollow of her shoulder, humming softly in protest. She smiled, pressing her hips back into his, earning another muffled groan. He furrowed his brow slightly, lifting his mouth to press a half-asleep kiss into the line of her neck, as if to reassure himself that she was still there.

Prickles of electric heat flowed from the spot where his lips met her skin, and she moved again, rotating her back until it was flat against the mattress. He stirred awake at that, opening his luminous emerald eyes and blinking rapidly, his expression melting into surprised pleasure when he realized that he was staring down at her.

She reached up, touching his face, brushing her fingertips across his cheek and into his hair near his temple. "Good morning," she greeted him softly.

His eyes were hooded as his gaze fell to her mouth. "Morning," he returned, leaning closer and capturing her mouth in a languid, sleepy kiss. His lips brushed against hers once, twice, three times before settling at a most pleasurable angle. She raked her hand through his hair before allowing her arm to drift down over his shoulder and across his back, catching in the folds of his undershirt.

He trailed a line of light, fiery kisses across the line of her jaw as she shifted again, flattening her hips and opening her legs to accommodate the weight of his body on hers. She clutched at his shirt, balling the soft fabric in her fists as his mouth continued along the column of her throat, pressing a kiss against her pulse point.

The look in his eyes was all-knowing as he lifted himself up slightly, far enough to pull his shirt over his head. "Your heart's racing," he surmised, leaning over her once more.

She could only nod dumbly, her eyes wide as she tried to take in the sight before her. She'd seen him without a shirt before, but never at this proximity, and never with such implicit permission to touch and explore. She didn't know where to begin, so he helped her out, taking one hand in both of his and pressing her palm flat against his chest. "So's mine," he confessed, and she could feel it, his heart beating against his ribs, almost in time with her own.

Her lips parted slightly as she tilted her chin up, eager to feel his mouth on hers once more. Their kisses turned bold, tinged with blossoming desire as she let her hands drift, roam, explore. She traced the lines of his chest with her fingertips, moving away from his heart and down to the solid cords of muscle at his torso, each constricting in time with her feathery light touch. Though his years of playing baseball where well behind him, he'd kept himself in shape, and her entire body began to tingle with anticipation.

His hands had drifted down into the sheets, stroking the backs of her thighs through her jeans, before catching at the last behind her knees. She exhaled sharply when she felt him urging her legs even further apart, digging her nails into his back as her muscles strained against her restrictive clothing. He groaned in protest, turning his face into the pillow beside her to muffle the noise, and settled his weight against her once more, tilting back against the wall and rolling over.

She swallowed a gasp of surprise, closing her eyes momentarily as her stomach took a slightly sickened turn at the sudden movement, and incrementally allowed herself to relax, trying to find the most comfortable position now that there was something between his mattress and her. After a moment, she opened her eyes once more; the first thing she noticed was a bright red tie, looped loosely over the corner of his headboard. She tensed, furrowing her brow as she stared at it, trying to place it in her memory. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she couldn't suppress her gasp as she whirled around to look at the other bed a few feet away.

"Shit!" she hissed furiously, wrapping the sheets around herself even though she was fully clothed, and maneuvering away from her boyfriend.

Ryan caught her before she could completely disentangle herself from him, and glanced at her, his expression full of concern. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

She pulled away from him. "You didn't tell me your roommate came back," she replied in a rush, flushing a dark red as she glanced over at the other, occupied bed.

Ryan glanced over as well, his eyes falling shut as he fell back against his pillow. "I didn't know he was there," he sighed.

Stacy pressed her back against the wall. "What about the system?" she questioned, nodding her head toward the tie.

He shrugged as best he could, considering he was flat on his back. "You told me it wasn't necessary last night, so I brought it in," he replied sheepishly. "I didn't know you'd be frisky this morning."

She flushed an even darker red. "Neither did I," she confessed, not quite able to meet his gaze. Instead, she glanced at his desk, wondering if he had an alarm clock anywhere. "I wonder what time is it?"

He grabbed her wrist, tugging her closer to him so that he could read the watch face. "Seven fifteen," he reported, ducking his head to find her eyes.

She smiled as their gazes locked, impulsively leaning close and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I wish I could stay longer," she whispered against his mouth.

"Why can't you?" he returned, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her near once more.

She kissed him again, reluctant to leave his embrace. "Parents," she reminded him with a sigh. "I really should go."

He nodded, looking resigned. "Okay," he acquiesced.

She smiled that secret smile again as she climbed over him, settling her feet to the floor. "Walk me to the station?" she asked, reaching for her discarded shoes.

His gaze lingered appreciatively on her back. "Of course," he murmured, running his fingers through her hair.

.xxxxx.

Twenty minutes later, they were at the subway station, standing on the nearly deserted platform as they waited for the next train to Brooklyn. Stacy leaned against Ryan, her arms wrapped securely around his waist, her head resting against his chest. They stood in companionable silence, each trying to process the events of the weekend – the play, the party, the twist and turn of events from that night to this morning – and Stacy found herself coming to one very important conclusion.

She was ready.

The revelation had stunned her into silence, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she was. She'd felt none of the fear, anxiety, or trepidation that morning like she had the night before. Waking up in his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world, and there was no thrill on earth quite like the way she felt when she was so close to him, kissing and touching and exploring, pushing boundaries she didn't even know she had set until now. Just as she'd anticipated, he'd been gentle and kind, if not particularly patient – though even then, he didn't push. What would've happened if his roommate hadn't been there? Would she still have stopped it?

…would she have wanted to?

"Penny for your thoughts," he murmured, brushing his fingers through her hair.

She looked up at him, really looked at him, as if she was seeing him for the first time. "I was just thinking about this morning," she began tentatively.

His study sharpened at her words. "Yeah?" he mused, his tone decidedly neutral.

She nodded. "I didn't know that was going to happen," she continued slowly, searching his features for any hint of his own thoughts on the matter.

He considered his words carefully. "Are you sorry that it did?"

"No," she replied softly, reaching up to touch his face, tracing the crest of his cheek. "I trust you. It made me feel close to you."

He drew her ever closer, capturing her lips with his. "It made me feel close to you, too," he returned.

She smiled. "Close enough – to make me think…I'm ready," she finished, her gaze unwavering as she looked at him.

His features softened as he nodded. "Okay," he hedged. "Are you sure?"

She hesitated, pulling a deep breath into her lungs as she considered his question. She thought she was, but then, so much had happened in the last twelve hours. And besides, would she ever feel really, totally, one hundred percent sure?

As she opened her mouth to respond, the overreaching sounds of the train pulling into the station assailed them, and they both glanced back, already seeing the headlight fill the tunnel. Other straggling morning travelers appeared in the corners of their eyes, clasping cups of coffee and newspapers.

Stacy turned back to Ryan, standing up on her tiptoes. "I love you," she said, directing her words straight into his ear, "and I want you to be my first."

His arms tightened around her. "When are you coming back?" he replied, raising his voice over the sound of the train's brakes squealing to a stop.

"Two weeks," she said firmly, tilting her face so that she could look at him again.

He smiled, kissing her one last time. "I'll see you in two weeks," he promised.