TWELVE #2
The storm outside sounded like it had ended, but the one between us felt like it was only just beginning. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
That question made my insides all fuzzy again. “I don’t know. Maybe. As an experiment?” I said hopefully. I wanted to know how it felt to have a boy's lips on my own, and even though he’d been so cold lately, Kieran was the only boy I saw doing that.
“An experiment? I’m not to be toyed with, Amelie.”
“I know that. I meant for me to see what it feels like. I trust you.”
He grimaced. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”
After a beat or two, Kieran moved forward and stroked my face with his thumb. “Are you sure? This can’t go anywhere, you get that, don’t you?”
“Yes. Please, just one kiss.”
And then Kieran made his move, so sure as he moved his body over mine, with a clear intention in his expression.
“OK, relax and just go with it. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. OK?” I nodded, worrying my bottom lip.
My entire body was burning up as Kieran raised his hand and slid his fingers around the side of my neck, his thumb pressing under my jaw. He then lowered his head, and his mouth found mine.
And. I. Saw. Stars.
I felt that first, gentle contact all the way down to my toes as pleasure burst through my chest, causing me to whimper with need. So many new emotions were crashing through my chest. My brain misfired as I tried to keep up with him.
My lips parted as Kieran ran his tongue slowly along the seam and then inside my mouth, deepening the kiss.
I opened for him like a flower drinking in the rain.
He was experienced, there was no doubt about that, and I shifted in the bed to bring our bodies closer, mine seeking his.
My fingers were trapped against his hard chest.
Kieran groaned into my mouth as his fingers splayed across my throat to cradle my head. I shifted my hands to his shoulders. And then I felt his hard torso pushing into mine and one of his strong thighs slid over my leg, trapping me there.
He pulled back for a split second and ordered, “Kiss me back.” And I did, following his instruction and moving my tongue against his. “Fuck yeah,” I heard him whisper.
Kieran Rook then consumed me.
The kiss became more frenzied, almost like he had started to lose control, and I felt a dampness between my legs.
I didn’t fully understand it, but I knew what he was doing to me was good.
I felt alive, and my arms wrapped around his neck, my fingertips pushing into his hair.
I pushed my body against his, suddenly ravenous, and he groaned into my mouth.
That feeling pulsating between us was unfamiliar but welcomed as his hard torso moved against my breasts.
A shiver danced through me as I started to melt, and my nipples were hard against the top of my PJs, the friction of his chest causing me to gasp into his mouth.
The strange ache between my legs suddenly intensified.
I knew I was aroused; I wasn’t totally stupid, but the fact that I had gotten there with only one kiss was mind-blowing.
Kieran’s tongue intertwined with mine, and then I felt what could only be his penis against my thigh; it was rock hard and sent a bubble of nerves through me. As I gasped, he ground himself against me. His actions were deliberate and unapologetic, and I panicked.
He must have felt my body tense as he lifted his head, breaking the kiss. I could see his entire face, but his eyes looked drugged with passion, and his lips were slightly swollen. “Are you OK? I was attempting to take it slow,” he huffed, his voice deep and husky.
I moved my hands to his shoulders again and glanced between our bodies. “Yes, I can just feel you. You know, down there, hard.”
I saw his lips curl up in a sexy smirk as he leaned down and placed his lips against mine in a quick, brief kiss, which tickled my lips before rolling onto his back with a huge sigh.
“And that’s why now would be a great time to stop.”
I relaxed back against the covers, my entire body singing.
Then Kieran asked in a deep voice. “So, what did you think?”
I raised my hand and touched my lips, no longer scared of the storm. The sensation there was warm and new. “I liked it. Thank you, Kieran.”
Turning my head to the side, I was faced with his shadowed profile. “How about you? Did you enjoy it?” I asked, feeling shy again.
He chuckled softly. “You felt how much I enjoyed it, princess.”
I didn’t reply at first and shuffled back onto the bed, thoughts of what it would feel like to touch him there circling my head.
“Is it always like that?” I asked, my eyes wide against the darkness.
I felt him shift next to me. “No. Now go to sleep, before I forget I’m a gentleman.”
And I slept.
* * * * *
I woke early the next morning to sunlight spilling through the uncovered windows. Golden beams stretched across the room, warming the tangled sheets and painting soft patterns on the walls. Apparently, Kieran wasn't the type to close his curtains.
For a few blissful seconds, I lay still, caught between being asleep and awake. Then I became aware of the solid weight behind me. I inhaled sharply as everything came flooding back.
Kieran.
I was tucked with my back against his chest; his arm draped loosely around my waist. One of his legs was thrown over mine, effectively pinning me in place.
The steady rise and fall of his breathing brushed against the back of my neck, sending an unexpected shiver through me. The realisation hit all at once.
The storm.
His room.
The conversation.
The kiss!
Heat flooded my face.
I squeezed my eyes shut and considered the possibility of simply remaining there forever rather than enduring the humiliation of turning around and facing him.
What had possessed me to ask if he thought I was pretty?
Worse than that! What had possessed me to coerce him into kissing me?
The memory made my stomach twist. Not because I regretted it, but because of the thought of facing him.
And somehow, that felt even more embarrassing. Carefully, I stared out at the bright morning beyond the window, trying to gather the courage to move without waking him.
The problem was that every second I remained trapped in Kieran's arms, the harder it became to remember why leaving seemed like such a good idea.
After around five more minutes of thinking time, I made my move, gently shifting his arm from around me and then sliding out from under his strong, hairy leg.
As I reached Kieran’s bedroom door, I paused, my gaze dragging across his sleeping form.
He looked entirely peaceful—a jarring contrast to the heavy-handed tyrant who usually threw his weight around the house.
In the daylight, I could see his room more clearly.
His massive bed dominated the space, a tangle of dark, unmade charcoal sheets.
Tucked into the corner, there was a mirrored wardrobe—reflecting the sudden, bright intrusion of the sun—and a heavy oak desk scarred with coffee rings and old pen marks.
Across from the bed, a massive flat-screen was bolted to the wall, flanked by two leather armchairs and a deflated, well-worn beanbag that had clearly seen years of use.
On the media console, a gaming headset dangled precariously off a dusty PlayStation, right next to a chaotic, leaning tower of paperbacks and what looked like car magazines.
He also had one of those large drafting tables people used to draw plans and stuff.
Kieran shifted in the bed, drawing my focus back. My lips still tingled from the heat of his skin. With a soft smile, I clicked the handle down, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet room. "Thank you," I said, smiling at the boy who was my first kiss.
The landing was eerily silent as I crept toward my room, every floorboard a potential trap.
Maisy’s door was open—her bed empty. Safely downstairs with Vanessa, I imagined, though my pulse spiked anyway.
Around the blind corner, Jessa’s room remained hidden, a looming question mark.
I slipped into my sanctuary, grabbed the towel robe on the back of my door and a wash bag and went to the bathroom.
Scalding water hit my back, but it couldn’t wash away the electricity buzzing under my skin.
Adam was coming that day to inspect the pool house, and my nerves were screaming.
I had to orchestrate a flawless welcome; the slightest hint of hostility would send him running again.
But as I lathered my body, my mind betrayed me, looping back to the devastating memory of kissing Kieran.
I leaned against the wet tile, staring at the drain. It would be OK. It had to be. The boys were of a similar age, after all—maybe they’d even find common ground.
I clung to that fragile hope, desperately trying to drown out the voice whispering that I was probably kidding myself.
When I emerged from the shower, I grabbed my journal and wrote about the experience of my first kiss. As I closed the book with a smile on my face after almost reliving it, I realised that the case worker I’d once met with, who had suggested writing my feelings down on paper, was right.
There was a benefit to documenting your life. It allowed you to reflect on the good times and how to cope with the bad.