Page 226 of Wrath

“Sorry I’ve kept you up tonight.”

“Are you kidding?” He slaps my soapy pec. “So worth it,” he says.

I soap up his junk because I’m evil, giving Mills a semi. I fuck with him till his legs won’t hold him and he’s on his back in the tub, spreading his knees, lifting his ass so his dick bounces. I use the soap to give him the one thing I haven’t yet—besides my dick: a finger.

Fuck, he’s perfect. Dark hair slick with water as he leans his head back, his cock jutting straight up, bobbing as I stroke it. His slim hips are pumping, bringing my finger deeper into his warm, tight hole. I add a second finger, and he’s flat on his back, his hands fisted as the shower pounds down on him and he sucks in steamy breaths.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” Mills lifts his knee, and I start humping it, just as a joke at first, but I’m so hard, we end up coming at the same time. Then we’re both laughing.

“Why is this sofunny?” Mills gasps.

I help him up. “I don’t know. You look so damn cute all the time. It makes me happy,” I confess in a whisper.

“You make me happy, too.” His hand strokes over my pec. “You look healthy. Like you’re eating okay.”

“I make myself.”

“Fucking good on you, dude,” Mills says.

Then we’re getting out, and I remember the drawer.

“I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but can I babysit that pile of Xannies?” I ask as he towels his hair. “Thinking of you taking street shit scares me.”

“Thinking ofyoubabysitting them scares me,” he laughs.

“God, we’re so fucked.”

“Let’s just flush them,” Josh says.

“No, we can’t. The fish!” I explain about the fish, and he nods slowly.

“Then let’s bury them,” he suggests. “Outside. We can go walking when we wake up in a little while, and pick a pine tree.”

“Then we’re poisoning some chipmunk.”

“Hell.” He makes a face. “What do you wanna do then, Einstein?”

“Maybe I’m more an Aristotle.”

As soon as I say it, my legs turn to Jello. Mills can tell. His eyes widen and he reaches for me as I grip the counter. I put my palms against the cool, damp countertop, hanging my head down as I pull deep, slow breaths into my lungs. Everything feels like it’s moving too fast.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

He hugs me from behind.

“Who said that?” I groan. “Which one of us?”

“I did,” he whispers. “We were on the roof.”

I feel sick. Like I might get sick.

“Miller?” I rasp.

“Yeah, angel?”

“Let’s lie down. I’m tired.”

“Okay. Let’s go to sleep, Ez. It’s been a long—wonderful—night.”

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