4/6

Money didn't bring happiness. Whoever said it did had to either be a fucking idiot or one step away from the nuthouse. All money had ever done for Summer was bring problems. Everything wrong in her life could be tracked back to money...and her father -which were really two of a kind. Until she was three she'd called the gardener daddy and when she was old enough Mastercard and Visa had filled the role quite nicely.

When her mom finally did the smart thing and off-ed herself, Summer was still in diapers and it wasn't like she'd been the perfect role-model anyway. People still gossiped about the whole thing. Her father's affair -ultimately leading to marriage- with her step-mother, who'd only been eighteen at the time and barely out of highschool...her mother's stints in the psychiatric ward...her father's malpractice suits... All of it out there for everyone to laugh at during Sunday dinner. It had been the talk of the town. And she hated it. Hated being looked upon as the 'poor, neglected child.' Because she was. Neglected. Ignored. Invisible. At least to him. And she hated him for it.

So she left and didn't look back.

And now she was miles away from Newport and she still couldn't get away from the pitying stares of strangers.

They pulled up to a small one-level house, Ryan cut the ignition and helped her off the bike. She teetered and he grabbed her waist to steady her, the heat of his hands singeing her skin.

He went to move away but she held his hands to her.

"Don't feel sorry for me," she said, a little desperate. For reasons she couldn't understand, she wanted his approval. Wanted him to know that she wasn't some unfortunate kid he had to feel sorry for. She was too strong for that.

He squinted. "I don't."

She bowed her eyes. "I saw the way you were looking at me."

He smirked, she could see it from the corner of her eye. "It wasn't out of pity," he said and cut the space between them in half.

Summer looked up. His eyes were dark, getting darker by the second and she could see the moon reflected in them. "Then wha...oh. Oh!" she clued in and at the same time leaned forward, pressing her chest against his.

He was solid muscle. Firm under her fingertips when she reached out to touch him. She thought she was a good flirt, that she knew everything there was to know about sex...but something told her she didn't know a fraction of what he would be able to teach her...and, even more surprising, she wanted him to. Right here. On the front porch under the blinking street lamp.

She smiled. It was the smile she'd learned in seventh grade just before she kissed a boy for the first time. It drove guys nuts and she hoped it would work on him, too. "Then I should thank you." Her voice was husky, she was pulling no stops. Throwing caution to the wind. That had been the whole point of running away, hadn't it? To prove that she wasn't just another minion following the crowd.

"For what?" He was pressed up against her now and she could feel all of him. All of him. His mouth hovered over hers, his breath heating her lips. Heat seethed around them, filling every inch of space between their bodies.

She responded by letting her lips touch his, soft at first and then with more urgency. Teeth and lips and tongue working in ways she hadn't known she was capable of until he showed up and made her aware. So very aware. Faintly, she could taste cigarettes and beer as his mouth worked with hers, drawing responses she didn't know she had in her. She moaned and felt him smile against her lips as he kissed her deeper, taking control. Taking over everything. She let him. Let him take anything he wanted from her.

This kind of feeling was what she'd been searching for her entire life. This feeling of life. Of being alive. And being in a moment so completely with someone else that she could read his thoughts...angling and dipping deep into a vacant world she had only just gained access to. Something she had never encountered before. He was letting her in. Showing her. Allowing her to explore and find herself in him, with him. Bowing to his whims and then taking for herself. This had been the type of danger she had been looking for.

She kissed him for as long as she could hold her breath...her lips numb by the time she pulled away. She was pleased to find him out of breath, too.

His eyes were so dark. So dark and feral that she just wanted to taste him again and again and forget about everything.

Ryan was looking at her expectantly, the heat in his eyes not diminishing. He took a step back and that seemed to help.

She'd almost forgotten to answer his question. What was it again? Oh yeah, why was she thanking him.

"I was looking for danger, for something different... You're both." She smiled, feeling her cheeks heat, half from embarrassment, the rest from arousal. "Oh, and for not taking me back," she finally stated, winded.

Nodding, he accepted that answer. Unlocking the door with one hand, he took hers with the other, leading her inside. "Come on, let's take this inside. Half the neighbours are probably watching. It'll be more private."

"Don't you have parents?" she said and then clamped her hand, the one he wasn't holding, over her mouth like she couldn't believe she'd said it out loud.

He shrugged. "Sometimes."

Summer let it go. She knew that meant he didn't want to talk about it. Ryan dropped her hand to pick up the mail from the table and flipped through it. A minute later he threw it all back down in a messy pile.

They made it into the bedroom without touching each other and that had been enough time for him to cool off, apparently.

He didn't look at her when he spoke. "You can take the bed.... I'll take the floor."

"What? I thought..." She stood awkwardly beside the bed, watching him throw blankets and pillows around to create a little nest for himself on the floor. The tension in her body was not going to go away on its own. They both knew that. And they were both still rife with sin.

Ryan cleared his throat. "I have work in the morning," he said in lieu of explanation.

Summer knew what he was doing. He was giving her a reprieve, letting her back out of something they both knew she wasn't ready for and it made her want him more. Or maybe he was calling her bluff...knew she was in way over her head just like she had been on top of the bar, dancing to ease the pain. Whatever his intentions, she didn't care because she wasn't sure she could make the first move again...not when she knew it would lead to things she had never experienced before. It wasn't the way she'd planned on losing her virginity, but he made her want it to be.

He had to remind himself that Summer was an innocent, young and too damn naive for her own good despite all her bravado...and the way she kissed. She didn't know guys like him. Even if she had started it, he knew she hadn't wanted to go as far as it would if he didn't put space between them...if he hadn't stopped touching her. Because he was dangerous. And in danger of doing something reckless and stupid. After the night she'd had... It just didn't feel right.

And now he was going to give up his bed for the little Diva Princess because if he didn't...he would take that innocence away. And he didn't want that on his conscience.

The girl was filthy rich. He didn't know much about designer labels or fancy boutiques that sold panties for fifty bucks a pop. So it wasn't that. It wasn't what she wore. It was the way she smelled. She smelled rich. Sort of floral, like in the spring when all the flowers started to bloom. God, he'd be laughed out of Chino if people knew what he was thinking. Flowers and springtime? That was sissy shit. The kind of crazy talk that got your ass beat down.

He didn't know anything about this girl. But he knew enough to know she was bad for him. That she could destroy him if he let himself be seduced by her eyes...by what he saw there. Because she was going to get bored. And she was going to leave. And he'd still be here. Alone.

Lonely.

He had nothing to offer her. Who was he? Just some punk kid trying to make the mortgage payments while his father rotted away in jail, his brother ran drugs through Mexico and his mother...well, he wasn't quite sure where his mother was this time. It didn't matter, it still didn't change the fact that he was no good for her. Not good enough.

Summer sat on the bed, watching him. He looked up from the blankets he'd been arranging and rearranging for the past five minutes and finally met her eyes. "Aren't you tired?"

He knew that it was a stupid question. She was probably just as wired and horny as he was. She crossed her legs and he caught the slightest hint of pink panties as she did so. He swallowed hard. Being the nice guy wasn't all it was cracked up to be. In fact, it sucked.

It wasn't like he'd never taken home a woman for the night before. But she wasn't a woman. She was a girl. And it would do him well to remember that. Even if he was probably going to explode sometime during the night because his dick was that hard.

Settling back on the blankets, he closed his eyes and prepared for a sleepless night. The mattress squeaked as Summer shifted. He refused to open his eyes.

"Ryan?" she called softly.

"Hmm?" She hesitated so he cracked open his right eye. She was staring at him. "Summer?"

"I-I just wanted to say goodnight," she answered quietly and laid down, still facing him.

"'Night," he muttered and rolled away. Fuck it to hell, tomorrow was never going to come.