Page 168 of Whistle

I planned to toss it in the toilet too, but then I felt the aforementioned draft on my head and changed my mind. It wasn’t at all because I gave up the whistle he’d entrusted to me and I wanted something to replace it.

Pushing off the stool, I turned to lean my elbows against the bar, kicking one leg out in front of the other, and stretched my bare torso out on display. I might not have a lot of muscles anymore, but my skin was naked. And the piercing drew a lot of eyes.

Like Emmett’s.

Nope. Not thinking about him.

A new song came on, one with a heavy beat and sexy tempo. One of the men who’d been eyeing me since I’d walked in set aside his beer and strolled over, eyes sweeping me from head to foot and then back again. I straightened, lifted the beer to my lips for a fortifying sip, and had to hold back a grimace when the warm liquid sloshed against my mouth.

“Hey,” he said, stopping just in front of me. His eyes were blue.

I preferred hazel.

“Hey,” I said back.

“Wanna dance?”

I put the piss masquerading as beer on the bar and followed him out onto the dancefloor. The lights were flashing neon, and when he turned, a strobe of yellow beamed over his face and shoulder. My heart clenched when I thought of Emmett and the way he looked onstage at the auction.

Anger replaced the hurt, and I slung my arms around my partner’s neck and started grinding to the beat. His sweaty hands felt small when they fell on my hips, and I found myself wrinkling my nose and looking down.

Emmett’s hands are so much bigger.

Shaking off the thought, I smiled up at the man, pushing closer so our bodies were plastered together and I could feel his dick through his jeans. His hands started roaming, leaving my hips to drag up my sides, across my back, and then around to my waist. His fingers dipped closer to the diamond in my belly button, and a sick feeling squirmed inside me.

Spinning, I put my back to him and shoved my ass against his front. He yanked me in tight, grinding against me, his rigid dick stabbing my ass as his fingers curled around my abs and tugged the piercing.

I gasped in surprise. He seemed to think that was a favorable response because he did it again. I smacked his hand away, feeling nauseous that he’d touched the piercing.

His chuckle in my ear made my lip curl, his hands moving up to rub my nipples over the tight lace top.

I forced myself to relax against him, leaning my head back against his shoulder as we continued to dance. When the song ended, he grabbed my hand and towed me through the strobing lights, pushing me into the bathroom and up against the door.

A sense of déjà vu assaulted me. And I got lost in the memory of Em fucking me in the bathroom just hours before.

Lips latched on to my neck, and I jerked instinctively, shoving the body away.

Bar guy blinked at me and then smiled. “Playing hard to get?” he murmured, moving back with grabby hands and a wet mouth.

Ew.

The same panic I usually only felt when near the pool surged inside me like a tsunami and punched the air out of my lungs. I shoved him back again, much harder this time, and his eyes turned hard.

“What the hell?”

“I changed my mind,” I said, grabbing the door to leave.

“Yeah?” he intoned, slamming his palm against the wood over my head. “Well, I didn’t.”

Heart pounding, I spun in the small space he crowded me in, looking up through lowered lashes and pursing my lips. “Is that so?” I purred.

“Yeah.”

Dragging my finger over the front of his shirt, I continued until almost reaching his fly. He groaned, and I moved fast, slamming my knee up into his balls. His eyes went comically wide, face ashen, and then he curled in on himself while grabbing his knockers with his too-small hand.

Stumbling back, he fell into the wall with a whimper.

“No means no,” I barked and then fled the bathroom before he could give chase.

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