Page 55 of Rent: Paid in Full

I mean, physically, he’s not that bad.

Fine, he’s attractive.

There, I said it.

He’s hotter than hell, and his dick is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Are you happy now?

Jesus.

There’s a soft tap on the door. My entire body tenses from the sound. I steady my breath and give my hair a last rub with my towel. That’s the hair on my head, in case you were wondering.

Then I open the door.

The only light in the room comes from Miller’s study lamp. Long shadows reach through the light and fill the space with an eerie foreboding. Something acoustic and bluesy is playing, wafting through the air and making it heavy. Miller is stark naked. Of course he is. He’s standing near my desk, one knee bent, hip cocked in my direction. Loaded, hard cock cocked in my direction too. Light bounces off him like he’s a god. He lets it. He stands there and smiles as if he knows exactly, precisely how attractive he is.

And fuck me, that makes me angry.

And horny.

“Ready?” His brows are arched high, and hope and excitement are carved into his features. He looks so different, so much softer than the Miller he shows other people. I have to fight the urge to smile.

I manage to. Just.

I’m naked except for my jeans. I know, I know, it’s ridiculous to put your pants on when you know damn well you’re walking straight into an activity that requires them to be around your ankles at a minimum, but I didn’t have the balls to saunter out here nude. I’m not Miller fucking MacAvoy.

The jeans situation made sense in the bathroom. I was pleased with myself when I thought of it, but now it’s making me feel stupid. Stupider than I was already feeling. Overdressed and silly. To make matters worse, Miller has moved to stand close to me, and he’s started touching me through the fabric. He’s not talking, but he’s tracing the line of my waistband with his fingertips, tugging at my belt loops and smiling as his nails bump over the stitching. I step in place as he inches closer and closer to my dick.

“So, no condom, right?” he says after an uncomfortably long silence.

I nod and try to stop myself from swallowing. The reasons behind this particular decision are vague and nebulous at best. Unprofessional at worst. I’m not sure I can fully explain it except to say that when Miller made reference to a fire hydrant going off in my ass the other day, something about it didn’t seem like a terrible time.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Plus, this is the only time I’m ever,everletting him do this, so I may as well add all the bells and whistles.

“Hey.” He taps a finger lightly under my chin, making me look up at him.

I know Miller well enough by now to be able to tell he’s about to start smiling. I’m right. His eyes flicker. Metal sparking and beginning to dance. Perfect white teeth peek out from pillowy lips. Not the full constellation. Just a glimmer. A glint.

I can’t stand it. I seriously can’t. I can’t stand here and see him like this, and I can’t possibly let him see me as I let him do thisto me. There’s no fucking way I can do that. The way he looked at me when he fingered me made me feel like my brain was going to implode. There’s no way I’m letting that happen again, so I unbutton my fly, pull my zipper down roughly, and push my jeans down in one uneasy motion. I step out of them and kick them away from me as Miller looks on. His chin draws down and his eyelids drop to half-mast.

My dick throbs at the sight.

I spin around and lean heavily on my desk. The sudden, rapid movement gives me a headrush. My elbows press against the wood, and I find myself looking down at tightly balled fists.

Miller breathes behind me.

“I thought you’d want to lie down so you’d be comfortable ‘cause I’m going to take my sweet time with you.”

“No. Nope. We’re doing it like this. Get in, get out, and pay me my money.”

His smile is quiet. Quieter than usual, but I hear it and hate it.

“Okay, but you know some people find it hurts more when your legs are straight, right? It can help to pull your knees to your chest.”

I did not know that, no.

“Are we doing this or not?” I ask snippily.