Thank you for all the good reviews, guys – you are too kind. And yes, I know this is sooo wrong. I do think there is potential physical attraction between the two – although I don't think they would ever do anything about it. But I had to try to and see whether it could work.

Please go on reviewing!

DISCLAIMER: Fox owns everything; I own nothing; sue me not.

AND: I'm indebted to Brandywine's recent fic "Some Bonding in an Elevator" for Julie Cooper/Nichol's past as a stripper. As soon as I read it I realised it made perfect sense. Thank you for the loan Brandywine – I hope you don't mind.

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Chap 2 – Booty call

This was just too fucking weird. Ryan rubbed his eyes and wondered briefly whether the beer was getting to him. Twice in a week was really getting freaky. Was she stalking him or what?

"Julie. What the fuck is going on?" he muttered. He was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he'd been fantasising about her a short while ago. The sight of her, tanned and fit in white trousers and a skimpy halter-top, was making him feel horny all over again. Also, he was drunk. And that was definitely not the best state to be in when Julie Nichol was around, judging from his recent experience.

"Is this about Marissa?" As far as he knew, Marissa was in rehab and didn't want to know about him. But he had to hope this wasn't what he feared it was.

She had the good grace to look uncomfortable. "No, Ryan, this isn't about her. I just wanted to talk to you. About the other night."

He was curt: "There's fuck-all to talk about and you know it." He felt in his back pocket for his cigarettes and pulled a crumpled packet. If this didn't call for a smoke, he didn't know what did. Even though he was trying to quit – again. He lit it and inhaled deeply.

Julie was looking expectant: "Can I come in?"

"Better not," he said abruptly. "I can't smoke inside anyhow." He noted the disappointment on her face, for a second, before the mask came back on.

"Okay," she drawled. "Then can I bum one of these off you?"

"Sure." Why couldn't these rich Newport bitches buy their own cigarettes, uh? Didn't they know the cost of tobacco? But it seemed churlish to refuse one to the woman who had effectively paid his month's rent.

She leant back on the porch's rickety balustrade as he gave her a light. She let out a small laugh as she blew out the smoke. "I haven't smoked in, what, ten years," she mused. "God this tastes good."

"So you came all the way from Newport for a cigarette?" Ryan lifted his eyebrows at her. "Tell me, I'm curious – how d'you even know where to find me?"

"Please, Ryan, it's not that hard to track you down," she snorted. "Don't worry, nobody knows I'm here. I looked you up in Marissa's address book."

Ryan was getting nervous again. He had the definite feeling that she wasn't here just for a chat. And while that made all sorts of scenarios pop into his head, some of them pretty steamy, he was damn sure that he couldn't let anything of them happen. He had to stay in control.

"Look Julie, can we cut the crap? I have stuff to do and I'm sure you don't want to spend longer in Chino than you need to."

"Actually, Ryan, I came to apologise," she sighed.

Ryan almost dropped his cigarette in shock. That was unexpected: "You what?"

"Look, can I come inside? This is... kind of awkward." She looked nervous behind her polished façade.

He nodded and ushered her into the living room. He was intrigued. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt an insane urge to push her against the wall and fuck her right there. He was positive she would respond in kind – she gave off the right vibes. Another part of his mind was screaming at him to move away, get behind the kitchen counter and keep his hands occupied. He went for that option and opened the fridge: "Beer?"

"Thanks". Julie took the can and drank deeply before continuing. "The other night, Ryan – it was your first time, right?"

"And last," he muttered, wincing. But he was curious. "What's it to you?"

There was a silence.

"When I met Jimmy," said Julie eventually, "I was a stripper. And I was eighteen. I remember pretty well what it felt like the first time I stripped for a guy. And even then it wasn't someone I knew already. So – I think I have an idea of what it was like for you."

Ryan just stared at her. He was stunned. Not so much by the fact that Julie had been a stripper – after her wedding shower he'd got the message that Caleb's bride had started life as trashy as they came, and he'd wondered how she'd ever hooked up with Jimmy Cooper. But why she chose to reveal this to him, of all people, was beyond him. He was also disturbingly aware that part of his brain was busy processing the "I was a stripper" bit and coming up with some graphic images to illustrate the concept. He bit his lip. Hard.

She looked straight back at him. "I'm sorry I treated you like shit," she said. "I was kind of rattled when you turned up."

"No shit, Julie," he snapped back. "How d'you think I felt?"

"Well, that's why I'm here." She sounded contrite. Ryan wasn't quite buying it though. He couldn't shake off the thought that she wanted more. He remembered the look in her eyes at the club that night, and how he'd suddenly clicked that her general dislike of him might have been covering something completely different. But he'd been thrown completely off balance by her apology.

"Look, Ryan, I just wanted you to know that. Because I think you and I have a lot in common. You know where I'm coming from." She still looked ill at ease.

"Yeah, I do now," snorted Ryan. "Come on, man, that's the kind of thing Sandy would come up with – I know how you must feel stuck with all these spoiled brats.... It's not really your kind of..."

"Oh please," interrupted Julie angrily. "Sandy Cohen? Sandy's never been white trash. He knows jack about what it really feels like. You do and I do. And that's something I can't share with anyone else in Newport."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm no longer in Newport," he shot back. "I guess I'm back where I belong. So, sorry, but there isn't much to share anymore. And I still don't get what the fuck you're doing here. You didn't come all that way just to say sorry."

Julie smiled. "Well, I did want to tell you that. But if we're going to be totally honest... I've also been thinking about the other night. A lot. And I'm sure you have, too. Don't pretend you weren't turned on. You were naked, remember?" She was regaining confidence.

The woman's cheek was unbelievable. And the reaction she was triggering in Ryan's sex-starved brain, not to mention his jeans, was unmistakeable. He could feel his resolve beginning to crumble.

"Yeah, so what?" he retorted. "I was also drunk as hell. And even if you did give me a hard-on, it doesn't mean I'm going to fuck you."

He really, really wanted this to be true. But Ryan was getting pissed off. He missed sex. Sex was his thing. Sex was good. He was good at sex. It made him feel right. He'd caught onto this precious fact of life early on when he was barely in his teens and he'd discovered that having sex was a good way of forgetting the bad stuff that happened to him at home. Sleeping with girls – ironically, more often than not Theresa – had started off as a survival strategy to drown out the anger and the pain. But he'd learnt to enjoy it for its own sake pretty damn quick. And he had a natural affinity for it – he was good with his hands and his mouth and his body; and patient when he had to be. Ryan had never had trouble getting laid in Chino.

But now sex was no longer simple. It was either a big deal, or a bargaining chip, or some guilt-laden trip. Or – in the case of his famous last fuck – a colossal mistake that had ruined his life. He mourned the loss of carefree, feel-good sex. He was fed up with the self-denial, fed up with constantly having to stay in control. He could never let go. He was trapped in a situation almost certainly not of his making (except, of course, he'd chosen to be there) and couldn't see a way out of it. And he wasn't even getting any. His life sucked – bad. At that point, Ryan was caught in a mood of self-pity, drunkenness and goddamn nearly overwhelming teenage hormone-driven horniness. So turning down a fantastically sexy MILF sitting on his couch looking at him with bedroom eyes – who'd only just mentioned that she used to be a stripper – that wasn't going to be easy. No matter what their shared past. Or the fact that this would hardly be carefree, no-guilt sex.

He had to try: "Christ, do you have to hit on all her exes? Haven't you learnt your lesson?"

Julie glared. That clearly stung. Maybe she'd leave now, and he could pretend this never happened.

Then she shrugged: "That was back in Newport, Ryan. This is Chino. You said it yourself – you're back where you belong. It's not like we'll be mixing at social functions in the near future." She stood up. Ryan was leaning against the kitchen counter, tense. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He knew he should move, walk away, run for the door – anything but stand there. But this time he just couldn't make himself.

He just stood there, his hips resting against the counter, blue eyes uncertain, breathing shallow and trying to pretend he didn't want her to jump him then and there despite the million good reasons this was a terrible idea. He looked breathtakingly sexy and vulnerable all of a sudden and Julie's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. She took a step forward.

She was way too close now. Ryan could smell her perfume, almost felt her breath on his skin. He swallowed hard. He looked at her eyes, hypnotised by her gaze, heavy-lidded, sexy as hell. He felt himself harden even before she put her hand on his thigh.

Julie ran her long manicured nails lightly up his jeans, stroking his leg, but purposefully avoiding his by now obvious erection. As her hand slid up and around, her nails still barely touching him, trailing on his ass and slowly creeping up his back, he clenched his fingers around the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening. He knew he had to do something to take control of this or he would end up disgracing himself. Right now, he felt like he was teetering on the brink. He took a shaky breath, grabbed her by the hips and spun her around. Now Julie was trapped against the counter, surprise showing in her green eyes. He slid his leg between hers, pressing himself against her hip.

She gasped and her eyes closed as she felt a rush of desire. He'd moved in such a self-assured way, all trace of uncertainty gone and she suddenly knew she was no longer in control. So soon, she thought. His hands felt hot through the thin fabric of her tight pants and god, the way he rubbed himself against her hip was driving her insane.

Ryan kept one hand on her waist and slid the other to the back of her neck, pulling her head towards him to kiss her. I'm kissing Julie Cooper, his mind screamed at him, briefly, and then he was lost in her hot, wet mouth, tongues merging, lips mashing against teeth as they kissed breathlessly. When he eventually pulled away, he noted with grim satisfaction that she whimpered as he broke contact with her. He stood there for a second, with a half-smile on his lips, looking at her. She was flushed and breathing heavily. Ryan felt he'd regained the upper hand. Just.

She licked her lips lazily, staring at him, and he felt himself losing it again. He pushed her back against the counter, this time more pressing. His hands slid up her back and he undid her halter-top smoothly, and let his fingers follow the fabric as it slipped down her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra. Christ, Julie had a nice rack. He lingered there, tongue following the fingers until she threw her head back and moaned.

He felt her nails scratching his back and pulling on his wifebeater, tugging to slip it off his back. Her hands stroking his shoulders, sliding down his front slowly tracing out his abs. The feel of her hard nails on his skin was giving Ryan goose pimples. He was starting to lose focus, caught in his own desire.

Kisses became more urgent, deeper. He bit his way along her neck, gently at first then more savagely. "Stop," she hissed. "No marks." She bit him back, sucking his lower lip then catching it between her teeth until he could almost taste blood while her hands roamed lower down his belly and into the waistband of his jeans. Things started speeding up. Hands unbuttoning, unzipping, slipping in. Fingers in underwear, his, hers, tangled, hot, hard, wet, slick. Her hand on him. His in her.

Older women. He remembered the first time he'd slept with an older woman. He was fourteen and she was the – young – stepmother of a guy he went to school with. She must've been thirty. She was hot. And uninhibited and not at all bothered by the fact that she was bedding a boy half her age. She'd taught him a lot about sex. But she had nothing on Julie. He caught his breath, pulled himself together, concentrated on his hand caressing her. If he was going to fuck Julie Nichol, he wanted to make damn sure she remembered the experience. He wasn't going to come in his pants like a fucking virgin. He had his pride.

She was undressing him now, pulling down his jeans as he helped her kick her pants off. Condom, fucking condom, now. With a jolt, Ryan pulled himself back into focus. "Fuck," he panted, "Wait." He staggered to the bedroom, picked a condom blindly in his bedside table, tore at the wrapper, put it on, came back. The look she gave him was pure unbridled lust as she braced herself back on the counter, lips parted, shallow breaths coming out. Ryan grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her to him. He fucked her hot and hard and fast against the counter, holding back as long as he could, jaw clenched, until she cried and he let go and he saw sparks and his knees shook and they slid down together in a messy heap on the floor.

Julie rested her head against his heaving shoulder. Her hair was sweaty and tangled and he resisted the urge to stroke it. They'd barely exchanged a word.

"I knew you'd be nothing like Luke," she said languidly, and smiled.

(tbc)

A/N: I have a newfound respect for the writers of any kind of smut or sex scenes - that took me forever to write, and it was not easy. I hope it works. I'm not entirely sure whether it stays within PG-13 rating, which seems to cover a multitude of sins judging by some of the stories out there. Review and let me know what you think.