Page 73 of Rent: Paid in Full

A wall other people built to cage me in.

Miller’s voice finds me in the mire.

“You know what, Haraway? Keep your fucking lunch money. This is what I want from now on. This.” He thrusts into me. “And this.” Again. Harder and deeper. All the way in. So deep my vision blurs, and I cry out. He punctuates his words with hard, no-nonsense thrusts. “Every day. From now on, this,thisis what I’m going to take from you, you hear me?”

I shake my head and moan in ecstasy.

“You know what you’re going to do from now on?” He doesn’t let me answer. “You’re going to wait for me right here after school. Every day, y’hear?” He draws almost all the way out, pauses, and then snaps his hips, burying himself in me so hard my head lolls back against him. “You’re going towait for me.” Quieter now. Slower but no softer. “Right here.”Thrust. “Somedays, I’ll turn up.”Thrust. “Somedays, I won’t. It’ll depend on my mood and whether I have anything better to do. But you.” He taps a forefinger firmly against my forehead so there’s no confusion about who he’s talking to. “You’re going to wait for me.”

His lips are on my neck now, his skin moving against mine. “Every day.” He plants a sweet kiss on my neck. Then a hard, grating bite. My cry matches the pain to perfection. “Every damn day. And on the days I show up, when you see me coming, you know what you’re going to do?” He thrusts roughly when I shake my head. “You’re going to lower your pants and your underwear. You’re going to spread your legs, and you’re going to bend over so I can use you.”

A yell and a whine cross wires and burst out of me. It’s a repulsive, strident sound, but I don’t care at all.

I like it. I want it. I need it.

“Miller, please!” I’m desperate. Wild. Beside myself and fully aware of it. A big, heavy thing swells in my core, fighting to break free. Racking me. Ravaging me. Still, even now, I’m aware of where I am. I know there are people close by, people who will hear me if I let the thing inside me loose. “Please,please,don’t let me scream.”

Miller acts quickly, clamping his hand against my mouth as tightly as he can. My orgasm is tightly coiled around me. A rope. A blade. Solid steel cutting into me. Tightening and pulling. Hurting. Pulsing. Pulsing again, and then pausing and punching a hole clear through me. Old things and new things. Big things and small things. A solid brick wall I built around myself.

All of them meet in the middle and collide.

Sparks fly. Bricks crumble and crash down.

My balls tighten. My mouth drops open.

Miller keeps fucking me relentlessly. Not breaking his stride. Not stopping or pausing as I’m laid bare and broken. He doesn’t stop until he’s caught my pain and my pleasure and holds them both in the palm of his hand.

Taking them from me.

Making them his.

23

Miller

Ryan is visibly shaking,hands and shoulders trembling so hard I can see it despite the low light. He pulls away from me as soon as my dick softens, scrambling to his feet and struggling with his jeans. At first, he tries to pull them up, but when he fails, he kicks his shoes off and hops from one foot to the other until he’s stepped out of his pants and underwear completely.

I reach for him. He recoils and steps back, making a feeble attempt at slapping my hand away.

“I’m fine.” He means to say it with force, but it falls a little flat.

“I’m not.” It’s true. I’m many things—spent, stunned, exhausted, euphoric—but fine isn’t one of those things. I’m scared and filled with concern for Ryan. Where we just went was the last place I was expecting. It was way bigger and deeper than I was prepared for. I’m scared for myself too. I feel unsteady, wobbly on the inside. The thought of being out of his body, being on my own, being away from him, hurts in a way I’m not sure I know how to handle. Big emotions swirl and swell in my chest, rising up and settling in my face. “I need to be held,” I whisper.

I wait for him to laugh, looking down and tensing my back so I’m ready for it.

The laugh doesn’t come. Neither does the huffy sigh or exasperated groan I’ve been trained to expect. Instead, he comes to me. His movements are jerky as he approaches. He’s close. Very close. There’s no more than a sliver of space between us, but he doesn’t touch me. He looks down at his feet for a while, lashes painting black shadows on his cheeks, hair tussled and forming a dark curtain he tries to hide behind. I feel the tension in him as if it’s my own, and I hate it. I hate the space between us. Hate that he’s close but so far away. I don’t move though. Much as I want to, I understand innately that Ryan needs to be the one to close the gap. To take the last step.

At last, he looks up and our eyes meet. Shiny shadows ripple in deep pools. Approaching and retreating. Pulling me closer and pushing me away. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and scrapes his teeth over it, and when he releases it, he leans his head down, resting his forehead on my shoulder. At first, his hands are on my upper arms, but they quickly find their way around my waist, and then it’s not just his forehead on my shoulder. It’s his cheeks and his lips and his tongue too. I wrap my arms tightly around him and start swaying almost immediately from how good it feels to hold him. It feels right. It is right for me. And even though I know he doesn’t know it yet, it’s right for him too. I’d bet my life on it.

When his breathing levels and his heart rate slows, I slide my hands under his T-shirt and gently pull it over his head. He lifts his arms of his own accord and lies on my bed with only the slightest persuasion. I pull the covers over both of us as we shuffle our hips and limbs to find a way to make the small space work for both of us. He’s on his side, facing away from me. A little spoon to my big one. I curl myself around him, molding our bodies together so as much of our skin is touching as possible.

“Ryan,” I say, stroking his hair out of his face, “there’s no part of me that thinks you liked what those dicks did to you.” The hand that’s on my arm hesitates and then clenches tightly. “For some of us, fear and excitement live close together, and they feel like each other. There’s no part of me that thinks you liked what they did to you, you know that, don’t you?” He doesn’t move, not even to breathe. I lower my voice to a growl and say it with meaning. “And you know there’s no part of me that won’t kick the living shit out of anyone who ever treats you like that again, right?”

He doesn’t reply, but he turns his head toward me. It’s his version of an offering. I accept it with my whole heart. I cup his face in my hands and plant soft kisses all over his cheek. I don’t stop until he’s squirming and the flesh I’m kissing is creased into a deep smile. I can tell he’s almost had enough, but I can’t bear for the moment to end, so I make him an offering of my own.

“D’you want to see something cool?”

There’s the deep sigh I know and love. “Will you stop talking if I say yes?”