Page 41 of Rent: Paid in Full
I use the bathroom first and switch off the lights in our room to try to limit the amount of naked Miller I’m subjected to.
I’m spinning out. There’s no getting around it. I’ve been hard off and on all night. I feel hot and my skin feels too tight. There’s a deep pressure everywhere. Not just in me. All around me. I need to come so much I’m starting to get a headache.
My dick is determined to make my life hell. It’s been making a complete ass of itself since the day I moved in with Miller.
I swear to God, it’s like I’m permanently chained to an idiot.
It’s one of those nights where there are constant knocks at our door. Miller gets up a couple of times, and every time, it’s thesame. Quiet whispered words outside, and then he comes back to bed on his own. It makes my blood boil.
“Can’t you put up a sign or something? I’m a really light sleeper,” I complain.
“I know. That’s why I don’t invite anyone back here.” That makes my blood boil even more. “Unless…” I hear him smiling. “…you like sharing?”
I can’t tell if I’m annoyed or aroused. My dick is rapidly stiffening, but my mood is plummeting.
It’s not like I think I’m bad in bed. I’m not. I have moves, believe me. I have some moves anyway. Fine, I have one move, maybe two. It’s just that there may be women out there who’d describe my sexual performance astries super-duper hard but is ultimately underwhelming. I hope not, but there might be. That’s all I’m saying. I know myself and my capabilities, and there’s no way on Earth I’d like to go up against Miller fucking MacAvoy. That’s all I’m saying.
God knows I can’t handle that level of dent to my ego. I’m barely limping along as I am.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Okay.” There’s that loud fucking smile again. “Night then.”
“Night.”
I wake to a blissfully quiet room. The curtains are drawn. There’s no hint of gurgling from the coffee maker or any sign of Miller watching me sleep. It’s heaven.
Actually, the sound of the coffee maker might not go completely amiss right now. I have a bit of a headache, and I could use a shot of caffeine. I get up and walk over to the machine. It’s empty and the pot is cool.
He hasn’t made any coffee.
It’s not that I’m complaining. I can make my own coffee. It’s just that this hasn’t happened since I moved in. I don’t mind. It’s no problem. And I’m not mad that he’s not here. It’s lovely to wake up alone. Wish I could do it every day.
So yeah, definitely not mad and not at all bothered about where he might be.
Don’t care.
Could not give a shit.
He’s my roommate, whom I don’t like, and he’s an, erm, client. He can do what he wants. He doesn’t owe me anything.
With all that in mind, it’s not immediately clear why I’m stalking to the door and yanking it open. I peer down the hall and feel an unreadable mix of emotions when I see Miller three or four doors down talking to Abby Wentworth. She’s fully dressed, and he’s in a pair of sleeping shorts I’ve never seen him sleep in and a white tank that fits snugly around the broadest part of his chest. He has a stack of class notes pinned under his arm, and Abby has her hand on the hem of his top and is tugging at it gently.
“Are you sure you have to go?” She smiles mischievously and bites her bottom lip.
“Yeah, I have to,” he says. “Have to go and make Ryan his coffee. He’s grouchy as hell in the mornings. But thanks for the notes. I appreciate it.”
“Isn’t he grouchy as hell all the time? Don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile.”
He looks over her shoulder and catches my eye, smiling broadly when he sees me watching him. His eyes dance, and he raises a languid hand and runs it through his hair. Ash-blond and silky. It stays exactly where he puts it.
Goddammit. Seriously? Even first thing in the morning, without any product in it?
“Yeah, he is. He’s grouchy as fuck.” He shoots me a killer smile. “But he’s worse in the mornings.”
With that, I head back into our room and get into bed, waiting in what I hope is a dignified manner for my hot beverage.
He serves it to me in the blue mug. Cornflower blue. Vines and old roses and straining hard boners. I take it from him, ignoring the way he makes sure his fingers brush against mine, blowing the steam away before taking my first tentative sip.