Page 151 of Whistle

“It doesn’t feel like it,” he whispered.

My heart cracked, and I pulled him into my arms, pushing his head against my shoulder. “You can’t feel me smeared between your thighs?” I murmured, sliding a hand down to palm his ass. “You can’t still feel what we just did?”

He didn’t answer, but I already knew. I hadn’t been overly rough, but I also had not been gentle. And though it satiated his anger, even his body, his heart was still not at rest.

“The dean asked me to do this, and so I will,” I murmured, stroking his head. “But once it’s over, I’ll find a way out of the date. Even if I have to pay back the bid. I won’t go, okay?”

He pulled back, hope glimmering in those baby blues as they searched mine. “Really?”

“I promise.” Then, “I don’t want to go. You know that, right?” I said, wanting him to be sure. “I want you. Only you.”

He nodded, relief evident in his features. “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

The corner of his lips hitched up. “Okay, Daddy.”

I tilted up his face, letting my thumbs caress just below his lips. “When I’m up there on the stage, it’s you I’ll be thinking about.”

His lashes swept down, and I kissed him gently but thoroughly. Stepping back, I adjusted his clothes, and he leaned in to straighten my bowtie and smooth out my lapels.

“You could have tried to look a little less handsome,” he grumbled.

And would you look at that? I didn’t even have to run to catch the butterflies suddenly in my stomach.

My eyes crinkled at the corners when I smiled. “I thought I was too old to look handsome.”

He made a face, and I palmed his shoulders to turn him around and gather his golden locks back into the low ponytail. He passed the elastic over his shoulder, and I fastened it, then whispered against his ear, “After this, we’ll meet at home, okay?”

He nodded.

“Go out ahead of me,” I said, glancing down at the broken glass. “I’ll clean this up.”

He started away, but I snatched him back, nipping at the shell of his ear. “And no more drinking tonight.”

“I’m of age,” he countered.

I bit down on his ear a little harder. “No more alcohol, Goldilocks.”

“Fine.”

I palmed his hip. “What was that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I let him go but snatched him back after only one step.

Bodhi let out an impatient whine. “What now?”

I smiled against his neck and pushed my hand into the inside of my jacket to pull out my most prized possession.

Resting my chin on his shoulder, I brought my arm around him, holding my hand palm up. “How about you hold on to this for me tonight?”

The change in him was quiet. Probably something I wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t have him in my arms. But, oh, it was significant.

“You want me to hold your whistle?” he asked, not making any move to grab it.

“Doesn’t really go with the bowtie.”

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