Page 125 of Whistle

And then… I wanted more.

The click filled the quiet interior, and the belt slackened and slid up. I guided it back, using it as an excuse to drag my fist over his chest and up to the side of his neck.

The sound of his thick swallow filled the car and me with satisfaction. “Try again,” I told him and unfolded from the seat. “Good boy,” I murmured when he appeared on his feet.

“I won’t swim,” he blurted, defiance and fear flashing in his eyes.

I caressed his cheek, enjoying the way his lashes fluttered. “Yes. You will.” I decided and went to unlock the natatorium door. Holding it open, I glanced over my shoulder, almost challenging him to disobey.

He came forward, sweeping past me on his way inside, avoiding my stare the entire time. After locking it behind us and pocketing the keys, I turned, noting the pitch-black space. It didn’t matter how dark it was, though, because I knew the place like the back of my hand. Sometimes it felt more like a home than my townhouse.

“Stay there,” I told Bodhi and walked to the control panel for the automatic cover. The gears started moving, the cover sliding back, and I hit another button to illuminate the lights inside the pool.

Inch after inch of the deep turquoise water revealed itself, the light beams dancing through the shifting waves. A sense of calm washed over me, watching it shift and glow. It was one of my favorite things about a pool, how it was ever moving, constantly changing, yet the more it changed, the more it stayed the same.

I liked its faithful presence and felt comforted that, even in change, it remained.

I also liked night swimming, something I didn’t indulge in nearly enough. With the overhead lights off, darkness muted everything beyond the water’s edge, which gave it the feeling of a secret lagoon.

The water was so crystalline you could see down to the bottom of its ten-foot depth. I knew without checking that the temperature was cold, and I anticipated the sting it would give to the skin.

Forgoing the rest of the lights, I went back to where Bodhi waited and led him into the locker room, down the dark, still row, and into my office where I flipped on a light.

I started stripping instantly, pulling off my shirt and pants, flinging them onto my desk.

“What are you doing?” Bodhi asked.

Reaching into a locker, I pulled out a black Speedo and tossed it in his direction. He caught it reflexively and stared at it in his hand. “Suit up.”

“You seriously want to swim?”

I dropped my boxer briefs, and he let out a choked sound. Once I had on a pair of identical Speedos, I turned to face him.

His eyes turned greedy, roaming over my body as if he’d never seen it before. Made me glad I put in the work to keep myself in shape, something I did because I made my swimmers do it and I wanted to lead by example. No point in yelling about fitness and athleticism if I was going to walk around lazy.

But seeing the appreciation in Bodhi’s eyes suddenly gave me another reason to keep up with the training. Because he clearly liked what he saw.

“You used to swim? Like compete?” he asked.

“Mm.” I agreed.

“Were you any good?”

I shrugged a little. “I had potential.”

His brow furrowed, those azure eyes lifting to mine. “What happened?”

I took a step closer. “You want me to tell you?”

He nodded.

“Get in the pool.”

“You know what happens when I get in the pool, Em.”

I liked the way he just took my name and shortened it, the way he called me that without even asking if I approved.

“You haven’t been in the pool with me.”

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