He was wrong... I didn't like it.

I mean, I did. Too much. And that was the problem.

"Fuuuck," I hissed as his slid my panties to one side, and let his tongue play over my clit. I stared up at the ceiling, half expecting to wake from this dream in a moment, because there was no way this was happening.

I'd never liked this. Which was fine because very few guys I'd been with had actually been interested in doing it. Honestly, most seemed relieved when I pulled them up from their half-hearted attempts and told them they didn't have to. It was part of being guarded, of being careful, because somehow this...this thing Niall was doing to me right now...it felt far more intimate than any of the hurried and hasty bathroom fucks I'd had the misfortune of calling my love life up to this point. Putting myself in his hands and just laying back and trusting... being spread open like this...and at his mercy, had me feeling near hysterical. My head seemed to float away like a helium balloon and each one of my limbs gained an another hundred pounds. "Shit," I said, because it was starting to feel good, too good...

"Go on now," he murmured, humming against my slickened skin. "I've been imagining the way you look when you come, now I want to see it."

I shook my head, side to side. It was like being on stage. Too much at once. Too intense, too raw, too much like surrendering. I couldn't take it.

"I want you up here," I groaned, pushing away on my heels and scrambling up away from him.

He knelt up, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," I panted wildly.

His lopsided smile spread slowly. "You're beautiful, you know."

"I, um, thanks."

He licked his lips. "And you taste amazing."

"Stop."

"Please, angel. I want you to come for me."

"I can't...I can't, please, just kiss me Niall?"

His smile was a little sad as he slid up to meet my lips. The taste of me still clinging to his tongue made my cheeks burn. Too much. I couldn't let him.... "I want be on top," I told him.

"I'm not going to say no to that," he said, smiling against my lips.

I pressed my hands to his chest and gave him a light push. He obliged me, falling onto his back and letting me straddle him. "Fuck, yeah," he groaned, running his hands along my thighs.

Once on top of him I felt less like I was losing my mind. I grinned and struck a sexy pose, piling my hair on top of my head. "I'm in bed with a rockstar, so does that mean you're going to rock my world?"

He slid his hands up to my waist. "I plan to," he promised, "Now come here..."

"What, like - "

"Yes, up here - kiss me -"

"Wait...slide up, I just need to - oh!" I cried as I lost my balance and leaned hard against the headboard, sending it slamming into the wall. There was a slide, and then a scrape and suddenly my hand was stinging and Niall was cursing.

"Oh -" I clapped my hands to my mouth and scrambled back. "Oh, oh my god, I am so sorry, hang on..."

"Bloody hell," Niall hissed as he pulled his hand away from his head. I rushed back with towels from his bathroom. "What the fuck just - "

"The picture fell," I babbled. "I'm so sorry, here, hold this to your head, oh my god you're bleeding, shit,"

"What picture, what?" He looked up at the wall above the headboard and then down at the framed photo of the church that now lay in the center of the bed. Unbroken because his head had cushioned the fall.

"I lost my balance, I'm sorry, here, press tighter, Jesus you're bleeding like a stuck pig..."

"Oh my god," he groaned, pulling the towel away and staring at the bright red flower of blood that bloomed across the white.

I pressed my fingers to my mouth, wishing that the ground would swallow me up and I could disappear forever. "I'm so fucking sorry," I whimpered. "Here, put it on tighter, I'll call an ambulance."

"It's not," he gingerly touched his head and then broke out in a grin. "It's actually just a scratch."

"You serious? You look like something out of a horror movie."

He laughed. "I'm not saying it's not going to leave a massive goose-egg."

I giggled.

"What?"

"Sorry. I haven't heard anyone call it that before. But I know what you mean."

"Don't you have geese where you're from?"

I grabbed the hem of the towel and dabbed away a rivulet of blood that was sneaking down the side of his cheek. "Oh of course." My mouth was getting ahead of my brain and I wondered if I was making a bit of sense. "Big angry fuckers too. One time I was wearing this long skirt and the vicious bastard came running up and got tangled in it." I pulled back and narrowed my eyes at him. "What are you laughing at?"

He pressed his lips together. "You in a skirt."

"It was a phase." I planted my hand on my hip.

"So a goose got stuck in your skirt. How did you get it out?"

"Kicked it in the head."

He laughed harder. "I never had the guts. We always just ran."

"You can't show them fear. Gotta act like the bigger bird. Like this" I knelt up and spread my arms out.

He looked up at me and I looked down to see my naked chest. I clapped my hands over my breasts. "Oh god." I rolled off to the side. "I'm so sorry about your head.

"Least I'll have a good story as to how I got the scar."

I flopped back and leaned against the headboard crossing my arms tightly over my chest. "So, this thing we were about to do. It isn't happening now, right?"

Niall dabbed at his head. "I'm a little woozy, darling, but I'm willing to give it a shot."

I laughed and rested my head on his shoulder. "Want to pretend it never happened? Because I'm sort of leaning in that direction."

"What never happened? That you pushed me out of the way of a falling stage light only to try to finish its work in bed with me?" He looked at me. "Kidding. Okay, it never happened. I might wake up in the morning and think that anyway. Wait, what's my name, who am I?"

I smacked him in the shoulder. "Jerk." Then I winced. "Sorry, did that hurt?"

"Can we make a deal? Can I say we broke the headboard because I'm just that fantastic of a lay?"

"It never happened."

"Right. Right. Just friends." He extended his hand. "Co-workers?"

"Friends."

"Boss and subordinate?"

I gritted my teeth. "Friends." I leaned over him. "Let me see that cut."

"Could you put a shirt on first, darling?" He glanced down at his groin. "Mr. Johnson down there hasn't quite gotten the 'just friends' memo yet."