Page 34 of Rent: Paid in Full
“Then why are you here?”
“Um, ‘cause MacAvoys get degrees from Ivy League schools.” He uses a deep, snooty voice that I assume is meant to sound like his father.
I have two more chapters of psychology to read by tomorrow, but I can’t concentrate for shit because I can feel him watching me. His eyes bore into the back of my head, frying my brain.
“What?”I demand, spinning my chair around to face him.
He’s on the sofa with his iPad in his hands. He puts it down next to him and parts his legs, showing me the swollen bulge in his pants. He flicks his head toward the money on his desk and says, “Take it.”
It’s only been three days since the last time I took it. There’s no way I can take it again. If it wasn’t for the money in my bank account, I’d have lost count of how many times I’ve blown himby now. It’s not good. Anyone could tell you that. I can’t let this shit become more of a habit than it already is.
I smile lightly and say, “Nah.”
One corner of his lips hitches up, digging a gentle laugh line into perfect skin. “Please.”
He sounds like I feel. Naked. Paired back, like someone has peeled a layer of skin off me.
I shake my head because I can’t trust my voice. He gets to his feet and closes the space between us. I stand up so I can move away if he gets too close, but I’m not quick enough. He’s already too close. His chest is inches away from mine, not touching but burning through my clothes all the same.
“Just give me something. It doesn’t have to be head. You can use your hand.Please.”
His face is close enough that when he speaks, I feel a soft puff of air on my cheek. I look into his eyes, watching him closely.
“No.” I smile when I see a flinch followed by a subtle burst of heat in response to the word.
He raises his arms like he did the first time he propositioned me, hands up at the side of his head, palms facing me. It’s meant to set me at ease. It doesn’t.
“Okay, no blowjob. No hand job. Fine.” His eyes flick down to my mouth and back up again. “How much for a kiss?”
A kiss? No fucking way.
I’m sure as hell not kissing Miller, so I say the most ridiculous number I can think of. “Same price. Five hundred dollars.”
“Fivehundred dollars for a kiss?” His eyes narrow, but instead of outrage, I see something that looks confusingly like fondness. “Jesus, Ryan. That’s extortion…but fine. Done.”
What? Is he insane?
“Five hundred dollars for one minute,” I clarify.
There. That’ll stop him.
He doesn’t blink. “Five minutes.”
“Two,” I hear myself say, though I’m very sincerely shocked by the sound of my voice, never mind my words.
“Deal.”
Wait. What now?
What just happened?
He moves closer, and I take a couple of unsteady steps back until I feel the coolness of the wall against my back. He takes his wallet out of his pocket, opens it, and starts peeling off notes, counting softly under his breath. He tosses the wallet onto my desk and folds the money in half, hooking a finger into my front jeans pocket. He drags my hips toward him and then pushes the money into my pocket, pressing it in a lot deeper than he needs to.
I try to step back again, but I’m met by the solid wall behind me. He places both hands on the side of my head, trapping me. Containing me. My heart skips a beat and then beats five or six times in rapid succession to catch up, leaving my breath shaky and uneven. He presses his body against mine, chests, hips, and dicks grinding against each other. His lips part and his jaw drops. I feel his breath again, but this time, I feel it on my lips.
“H-hey, Siri, set a timer for two minutes,” I stammer.
He gives me a cocky display of teeth, and his eyes don’t leave mine for several long seconds. When they do, they burn a trail down my face, over my cheeks, my lips, my chin. He leans in, and my head connects with the wall again, a subtle reminder that I’m going nowhere.