Author: Kirsty Moseley

“Hi,” I purred seductively as I walked over to my bed and sat down.


“Hi,” he replied with a small smile. He made no moves to come towards me; I think he was trying not to rush me. I patted the bed beside me and he eagerly trotted over and sat down.

“Thanks for checking my room,” I whispered, playing with the neck of his t-shirt, tracing my finger along the skin there.

“Anytime. I’m just sorry I won’t be here for you tonight. Try not to have too many nightmares, OK?” He looked at me with sad eyes; we both knew that I would have nightmares without him here.

I got onto my knees and moved to him, throwing my leg over his so I was sitting on his lap, straddling him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his beautiful blue eyes. He looked a little taken aback but his eyes danced with excitement.

“I’m sorry that Kate’s staying over. I’m actually really going to miss you half crushing me to death in the night,” I teased. I said it as a joke but to be honest I really was going to miss him tonight.

“Well, I’m really going to miss half crushing you to death,” he joked, rubbing his hands on my back.

“Try and get some sleep tonight though, OK?” I pleaded. I really hated it when he went without sleep, it made me feel guilty because he only started sleeping here in the first place to comfort me and now he was stuck with it.

“I’ll try.”

I suddenly had the urge to kiss him and maybe tease him a little, but I was scared to do it. OK, just do it, Amber, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s Liam; he’ll stop if you ask him to.

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“Maybe I could give you a little something to dream about. Would that help do you think?” I asked, biting my lip and raising my eyebrows. He looked at me, his expression a little unsure; he obviously wasn’t expecting this much physical contact so soon. I could tell by the bulge in his jeans pressing between my legs that he wanted physical contact, but I could also tell that he was letting me make the first moves.

“It might help,” he said huskily, making my body tingle and my skin to heat up.

I leant forward and kissed him passionately, he made a small moaning sound as he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I ran my hands through his hair, loving the soft feel of it on my fingers. He didn’t make any other moves, he just kissed me, but I wanted a little more so I pushed on his shoulders, making him lay down so that I was on top of him. I ran my hands down his chest and slipped my hand under his t-shirt, tracing it over his sculpted abs, making him shiver slightly.

He rolled me so I was under him, he broke out of the kiss and looked at me, our eyes locked together trying to slow our breathing. I gripped his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, making him seem to stop breathing altogether. I looked down at his chest. He really was beautiful; I ran my fingers down it marveling that this boy wanted to be with me. He still hadn’t moved, he just hovered above me, looking unsure what to do, so I put my hands back around his neck and pulled him back down to kiss me. He kissed me back eagerly. The kiss was getting hot; he broke it only to kiss across my cheek and down my neck. His hand moved slowly to my stomach and he slipped it under my top, tracing his fingers across the skin there. He continued to kiss downwards over my top until he got to my stomach then he hitched up my top and started kissing my skin. I felt his tongue trail across just under my belly button making me moan. I was getting a feeling down in my core it was like a burning ache but I tried not to think about it, the feeling scared the life out of me.

He pushed my top slightly higher and I felt him kissing the material at the bottom of my bra. I was still OK with this; I was enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would. I thought that this would just give him something to dream about, but I had a feeling I would be revisiting this tonight too. My top rose a little higher and I heard him make a soft moaning noise as it completely exposed my bra. His hand snaked up my stomach and he gently brushed his hand over one of my breasts, just once, before moving it away as if he was waiting for me to stop him. When I didn’t say anything, he put his hand back there again and cupped my breast. I moaned again. It felt so nice to have him touch me; he brought his mouth back to mine and kissed me tenderly, still massaging my br**sts gently.

I could feel his erection pressing into my thigh and I started to get a little panicky because this was getting too hot, too fast. Oh God I need to stop! I broke the kiss. “Liam,” I said breathlessly. His eyes snapped to mine quickly and he took his hands off me, pushing himself up so that he was hovering above me, not touching me apart from our legs which were intertwined.

“Stop?” he asked, his voice sounding husky and full of lust. I gulped and nodded. He immediately pushed himself off of me completely and sat back on the edge of the bed, pulling on his t-shirt.

I sat up, blushing, feeling stupid and like a little kid. Jeez, I didn’t even let him get my top off! “Sorry,” I mumbled, not looking at him.

“Angel, you don’t need to be sorry. We didn’t have to do that. I told you, whatever you want. I’m not going to say that I didn’t enjoy that though, because that would be a lie. That was the hottest damn thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, shrugging.

I giggled at that statement. “The hottest thing that’s ever happened to you? Yeah right, you’ve probably slept with over a hundred different girls and done goodness knows what with them and to them, and you didn’t even get my top off before I freaked out,” I said sarcastically, feeling like an idiot. He didn’t need to lie to make me feel better.

“Angel, trust me that was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me. It’s just you, you make me feel different. Even kissing you is different, it’s a thousand times better than anything I’ve ever felt before. You make my body burn everywhere you touch me. I can’t explain it.” He frowned and shook his head as if he was annoyed at himself for not having the right words.

“I know what you mean.” I smiled, kissing him lightly on the lips.

He grinned at me. “Now’s where you’re supposed to tell me that that was the hottest for you too,” he joked, knowing that I hadn’t kissed anyone but him and that jerk that kissed me at the party.

I pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “I’ve had better.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I bet you have,” he replied, shaking his head in amusement. I grinned at him and he sighed. “I guess I’d better go. Thanks for today; I had a really good time with you. Sleep tight, OK. Oh and by the way, that thing we just did that was supposed to help me sleep, well, I don’t think that’s going to have the desired effect. I think it’s actually going to keep me awake all night thinking about it,” he said, tracing his finger across my cheekbone.

I giggled. “Me too,” I admitted, making him laugh too.

He stood up and held his hand out for me, I took it and he helped me up, we walked down the hallway hand in hand. He stopped at the corner and kissed my forehead before he sighed and let go of my hand. “Right, guys, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Liam called as he walked towards the front door.

“Yeah, see ya,” they both answered, still engrossed in their game of tennis on the TV. Liam smiled at me from the door but it was forced, I could tell it was almost hurting him to go, I smiled back and he shut the door. The moment the door closed my heart sank. The thought of having to spend two nights in my bed without him made me feel a little sick; it would have been horrendous even if we hadn’t just got together, but now it actually felt like torture. I sighed and went back to the couch to watch Jake whip Kate’s butt on the Wii.

That night was awful. I went to bed terrified of zombies, and even when I did go to sleep, I started to dream about my father. I hadn’t dreamt of him for over five months. The last dreams I had were when Kate and Sarah stayed over for Sarah’s birthday. Because the girls were here, Liam had to stay away, and I’d woken the whole house up with my screaming.

My dream tonight was bad. Jake was eleven and I was nine. We were playing in the yard to get out of the house because my father wanted to watch some football match on the TV. He’d been drinking all afternoon which made him even more temperamental. Jake and I were playing with his new soccer ball that he had got for his birthday a couple of weeks before. We weren’t supposed to play with it in the yard, only in the park, but Jake wanted to show me this new trick he'd learnt.

He was kneeing the ball to keep it up in the air; I was laughing and counting how many times he could do it, being all proud of my big brother. He lost control of it, and instead of letting it drop to the floor, he tried to save it by kicking it back up with his foot. The ball flew through the air and hit the window. Luckily, it didn’t smash, but it did make a loud bang. We both turned and looked at the door, waiting.

About ten seconds later, the back door opened and my father beckoned for us to come in. “Bring the ball,” he hissed. His face was murderously angry, making me go cold. Jake grabbed my hand and forced me behind him as we walked in, picking up the ball in his other hand.

My father slammed the door, making me jump and whimper. Jake gripped my hand tighter. “Who kicked the ball?” my father asked nastily.

“I did. I’m sorry, Dad. It was an accident,” Jake whispered, looking at him apologetically.

My father took the ball from his hands and put it on the counter, and then punched Jake so hard in the stomach that he actually lifted off the floor slightly. I put my hands over my mouth to stifle the scream that was threatening to come out of me. He raised his fist to hit him again, so I grabbed his hand to stop him. He turned to me and slapped me, hard, sending me flying into the wall, hitting my head. I could feel something trickling down the side of my face; my vision was a little blurry.

He turned back to Jake, hitting him again. He didn’t just do it once, he punched him over and over, in the stomach and thighs until Jake was on the floor crying. I was begging for him to stop. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back up, grabbing a knife off of the counter. I couldn’t breathe. Jake screamed at him to leave me alone and got up off the floor, pain stretched across his face from the beating he’d just sustained.

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