Bloodstream | Nate Jacobs

Chapter three:

Rough callused fingers were pressed against my skin, but his body pressed into me harder sealing the space that had once lingered between us. Nate's tongue licked at my bottom lip, a hoarse growl escaping his lips. Using his other hand, he weaved his fingers through my hair, pulled a fistful of hair to the side hard enough that my was pulled to the side.  His lips pressed against my neck, suckling on the skin tenderly. I moaned softly.

"Fuck," I groaned, coming back to reality. How did I even let it get this far. What were all of these emotions that flooded through me.

I pulled myself away from Nate quickly. Holding my fingers to my lips. It felt strange. Everything felt strange. I stared at him for a second, contemplating the only choices I had in this situation.

"You aren't my type," I whispered quickly, walking toward the bedroom door.
"You aren't mine either," Nate replied, though I knew he was lying. I was exactly what he wanted. I was what everyone wanted.
"Good."
"Good."
I left the room quickly, leaving Nate sitting on the bed dumbfounded and insanely turned on. Well we both were. I weaved between the bodies of the intoxicated teenagers. My mind looping on Nate obnoxiously. It was always supposed to be a game. It was supposed to be just another victim to play with. There was never a kiss that made me feel anything, never a touch that I craved. I could have let him fuck me right then and there. And I was the one preaching that I wasn't easy.  My cheeks heated at the thought of him touching me that way, his rough firm hands against my body, how his cock would feel pounding into me. My inappropriate thoughts were interrupted as a solid body collided with mine.
"What the fuck," I hissed, looking up at the shirtless figure.
"Sorry," the random guy slurred.
Without thinking, I snaked my arms around the guy's neck, smashing my lips against his. The guy was hesitant for a second, confused by my actions. But none the less he kissed me back.  Nothing. It felt like nothing. No explosion of feelings, no heat that was radiating from my core. It was radio silence as my lips moved against his.
"Fuck," I growled, pushing the guy away from me. What the fuck was wrong with me. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck."
"Yo, whatever," the guy said blandly, walking away into the crowd of people.
Maybe it was just that one guy. Maybe he just wasn't being assertive enough. Maybe he just wasn't the right one.  I stepped into the crowd of drunk people who were dancing along to the music in a large area of the room that was dimly lit. Parties were just an excuse for lonely people to get lucky or feel the attention they desired or craved. Girls in revealing outfits grinding against each other seductively, hoping to catch the attention of lonely males. A mating ritual that usually ended in regret, tears and more or less a 'I don't a baby' pill. My hips swayed to the music, my fingers clung to the hem of my pink dress, as I moved with the music so did my hands exposing the tops of pale thighs. My mind tried to focus on all the hands that grabbed at my body, in hopes to feel something other than Nate's lingering fingerprints. A pair of soft hands pressed against my inner thigh, and a body followed pressing against me. Our bodies still swaying together to the music, the person breathed heavily into my ear, annoying the fuck out of me. Fuck this. I groaned in frustration, walking away from the dancing people. This was pointless. Nate was going to be my newest obsession, and he didn't have a choice. No one has ever captivated my mind in this way. I've never longed, craved, or wanted anyone. That's just not how my mind works. Though no one understands how my brain is wired. I have a strong attachment to my cat named Cynthia. Somehow how that fluffy Himalayan had captivated my heart from the moment I had saw her, but I've never shared those kinds of emotions with another human-being. When I was eight years old the doctors had tried to diagnose me with 'Psychopathy' but as the years went on everyone questioned the diagnoses. I'm normal like everyone else. I just don't feel physical attachments to people, or express feelings like lust, love, compassion, or guilt. I felt anger, loneliness, and sadness and few emotions in between. But I've never experienced the emotions that were flowing through my body at this very moment.

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Author- Hope everyone is enjoy the book so far. How are we liking Lily? Her face claim is Alice Chater, and her personality and attitude it based off the song Girls X Boys by Alice Chater. Also this book is definitely not going to be pg-13 as the show has tones of Nudity and drug use. I plan to carry the same theme.