Page 59 of Rent: Paid in Full
He’s smiling, obviously. He’s never looked happier. That doesn’t surprise me. I expected that. Miller always smiles when he has sex. And God only knows, we just had sex and then some.
What does surprise me, what shocks the unholy shit out of me, is that there, right next to Miller, I see my own reflection, dazed and confused, with a big, dumb smile plastered all over it.
19
Miller
You know how theysay some people can’t stop winning? Yeah? Well, that’s my life right now. I can’t stop winning. Cannot. Literally couldn’t lose if I tried to. I have Ryan right where I want him. I mean, technically, I have himalmostwhere I want him, but it’s still such a dramatic improvement from how things used to be that I can’t find it in myself to complain.
He’s let me fuck him three more times since the first time. Every few days, roughly twice a week, he sighs and looks at the ceiling and says, “Fine,” as if it pains him greatly to give in. As if he’s doing it purely for the money, purely for me.
He keeps his eyes hard and guarded. Narrowing them when he talks to me. He squirms when I touch him, batting my hands away and hissing at me in that sexy, complicated Ryan way, but the second I have him naked, he loses his goddamn mind.
I’ve never been with anyone who loses it like he does. The solid wall he’s built around himself comes crashing down when we touch. Falling to pieces brick by brick. Turning to dust. Leaving him so naked, it feels almost wrong to call what we do sex. It’s so different from anything I’ve done with anyone elsethat it feels like it should have a different name. Like it should be in a category all on its own. A category just for us.
Just for him and for me.
I look up and quickly step back into the shadow of the economics building. I check my watch and smile. He’s right on time. I could set my watch by him. His shoulders are slightly hunched, and he glances around furtively, craning his head from side to side to see if he’s being followed. He’s so fucking sexy and sweet when he isn’t being mean. He’s brilliant but has no clue how to lose a tail.
He’s wearing his chucks and a new pair of jeans today. The denim is dark, faded in all the right places. It clings to his hips and ass in a way that makes my breath catch in my throat.
I watch as he heads into the library, his army-green messenger bag bumping on his left hip as he takes the stairs two at a time. I give him a few minutes to find a seat and settle in. I like to do that for him. I like giving him some time to unwind and relax before I surprise him.
I find him in one of his usual haunts: third floor, engineering section. He blinks hard when he sees me, grimacing and keeping his eyes closed for several seconds as if that will make me disappear. He huffs loudly when he opens them again and sees me sitting opposite him.
“What are you doing, Miller?”
“I’m studying,” I say innocently. “Finals start next week, Ryan. It’s go-time.”
“You never study.”
“You’ve never known me during finals. I could study.” I don’t. Not really. I pay people to do my assignments for me and keep my coursework average so high I can scrape through my finals and still be all right, but that’s neither here nor there.
He drops his head into one hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to follow the line of his eyebrows roughly. Heknows there’s no way he’s getting rid of me. He just needs a second to get used to the idea. “Fine, you can stay, but no talking.”
I take a textbook, a notepad, and a pen out of my bag. My stalking skills are now what I’d call better than intermediate. I’ve really got the hang of knowing what props I need for each outing.
He reads for a while, and I let him. I use the time to watch him. The table between us is narrow, and he’s a lot closer to me than he likes being when we’re not fucking. The sinews of his neck are slightly tensed, and I can see the clear beat of his pulse just below his jawline.
I wedge one of my feet between his, and he kicks it away roughly. He presses his lips together firmly and manages to get the smile that’s threatening under control.
I spend the next few minutes doing a little sketch for him. A little black-and-white drawing of a boner and balls, complete with unruly ball hair. When I’m happy with it, I rub my foot along his calf to get his attention. He glares at me. I’m getting on his last nerve, and even though that’s not exactly the nerve I want to get on, it still makes me happy.
I hold the dick pic up, and when he looks at it, I point emphatically to his lap and then to my mouth. When he doesn’t immediately react, I hold the picture near my open mouth and press my tongue repeatedly against the opposite cheek, making it bulge out. His head whips back in disdain, and he says, “Stop it!”
I probably would stop if it wasn’t for the fact his pupils have dilated notably, and his lips are quivering from the effort not to smile.
Kidding. We all know I wouldn’t.
“I thought you said no talking in the library?” I whisper, scandalized.
“Miller!”
“Ryan.” He loses the smile battle, biting down hard on his bottom lip, all but sucking it into his mouth to hide it. He likes it when I say his name. He likes it, and he can’t hide it no matter how hard he tries. “Mouth, hands, ass,” I whisper. “All yours.” He opens and shuts his mouth and sucks a stuttered breath in. “Yours. No charge.”
He’s still for a while, and then he nods. Barely, I can tell he absolutely hates himself for it, but his head moves up and down microscopically. It’s enough. I’m on my feet before he is, and I have him backed against a bookshelf before he’s taken another breath. My hand is on his dick, groping and squeezing, making him gasp in shock. He’s rock-hard. Solid steel in brand-new denim. Denim I paid for. Denim he bought with money he earned with his ass.
He thrashes against me, his dick thrusting into my hand and arms pushing me away and pulling me closer at the same time. “Not here.” His eyes flash wildly. “Someone could see us.”