Blame Gravity

Chapter 11*

"Fuck, Lucy," He kisses my neck, thrusting inside me with every breath. I'm gasping for air, pushing his head closer to me. 

"Harder," I pant. He only slows down at that. Asshole.

"Beg for it."

I beg and beg and finally, he goes faster, so fast the bed is creaking underneath us, hitting my g-spot every time.  I scream. 

He covers my mouth with his hand.

"Be a good girl and stay quiet."  I nod, and he takes his hand off my mouth. He goes quicker, and I moan. At that, he slows down. I whimper, wanting that feeling again. I was so close to finishing, and now he slows down.

"Please, James." I smooch his neck, wanting to feel that closeness. He kisses my forehead and goes faster, even faster than before. When I climax, I scream, and he finally lets me. This feels way too good to be true. 

And, well, it isn't. I wake up, flushed, sweating, and feeling some sort of tingling sensation between my legs. Fuck, no. Did I just have a wet dream? Of James?

I stumble out of bed and struggle to the bathroom to drink a glass of water. I hate this. I should have forgotten about this whole thing lightyears ago. But I can't. I dream of him every night, even though I shouldn't, even though I have a boyfriend, even though it's wrong. The dreams keep getting more intense with each time, and I honestly don't even know how my mind makes up these kinds of things. 

I stumble back to bed and lay down. I just can't seem to fall back to sleep. And I really should. It's March 14, which means the coding competition is today. I look at my alarm. Yep, it's 3:45 AM. I have a good 4 hours left. I try to calm down, but I can't. 

I scream into my pillow. I want James right now. I want him on top of me, I want him to kiss me. I want him to-

No! Stop. Don't even think about that. 

It's dumb. It's just sexual attraction. It's nothing. It's natural.

And yet I can't stop thinking about him.

The competition itself is easy as fuck. I quickly finish with the tasks, and I lean back in my chair, looking at James. He's been studying me for a while, smiling in an annoying manner, making me want to punch him.

The competition is over, and we walk out of the classroom. I tap James on the back. He turns, around, surprised, and he smirks when he sees me. I feel my cheeks heat up, but decide to ignore it for now.

"We need to finish the project, Miller." 

He clears his throat. "Yeah, you're right. Um, my place or..."

"Library," I remember what happened last time we were at his, and I blush. 

"Okay." We drive to the library, and we start writing the pitch. 

He reads it through one more time. He suddenly smiles. "That's not how you write that."

"Write what?"

"Accommodate." He beams at me with a pitying face. "It's with two c's."

"No, it's not," I say. Fuck. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up. 

I'll never admit it, though.

"Yes, it is. Want me to find you a dictionary to prove it?" He smirks in that idiotic way only he can. 

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Fine. Find one."

We walk to the shelf stacked with dictionaries. I lean on the shelf, cross my arms and tap my foot, waiting. 

"Here," he opens a dictionary and shows me. He's right. It's with two c's. Fuck. He shuts the dictionary and puts it back where it was. He stands up, and looks at me, smiling like a fool.

"When I'm dead, I'm going to haunt the shit out of you."

"Wanna bet?" He moves closer. 

I swallow, feeling my cheeks heat up. 

"I hate you so, so much," I say, unable to break eye contact.

"Do you?" he breathes, placing his hand next to my face and thus pinning me against the wall.

"I do. You're annoying and arrogant and you think you're so perfect, even though you're not. You are way too proud, and you think of yourself as some sort of god. I hate you not only because of that but because you're so fucking h-"

He cuts me off with a rough kiss. 

We continue to make out, angry at both each other and ourselves. He slides his hand under my sweatshirt, and I let him. I push my hips to his, furious because we can't do what I want to do.  I want more of him. I want so much more of him.

He breaks the kiss for a moment and looks into my eyes. 

"Why do we always end up doing this when it's just the two of us?" he breaths into my mouth, his voice hoarse, trying to catch his breath.

"I... I don't know." I kiss him again, pulling him in by his sweater. I feel a tear streaming down my face. I missed this so much. 

"Ugh, get a room!" I hear someone shout. I break away, terrified. I'm glad to see it's just a bitter librarian. 

I look at James. He's flushed, breathing heavily. He has stepped away from me in the meanwhile. He's adjusting his clothes. I look down at mine and notice my skirt has slipped up a few inches. I start straightening out my clothes as well.

"I... I should go. You should edit the pitch. Uh, bye." I run away, wiping off the single tear. To my surprise, he doesn't run after me this time. I take the tram and go home as quickly as possible.

Fuck.

This always fucking happens.

When I'm in my room, I break down crying. What the fuck? I hate this. I hate all of this. I hate James, I hate his stupid fashion sense, I hate his jokes, and most of all, I hate that I can't have him.

He's with Maud. I'm with Mike. And Mike is awesome. So I guess I'll just have to forget about James.

I don't know how I'm going to do that, but I'll try my best.