Page 50 of Whistle

His lips danced in the hair at my temple, breath warm against my skin. This time when he pulled away, he brought me with him. We ended up in his chair, me in his lap.

I was still naked, but oddly, I didn’t feel exposed. I brought my knees in, tucking as much of my body against his as I could.

His arms went around me, chin resting on top of my head. My eyes drifted closed as I soaked up this moment. This man.

Because I knew time was fleeting and we couldn’t stay like this.

13

Coach (Emmett)

Sometimes life is cruel.

So it’s better it is empty.

Sometimes life is sweet.

And you forget why it needs to be empty.

Always, though, life reminds you.

“You need to get dressed,” I said, knowing anyone could just walk in here at any moment.

“I didn’t bring a bag.”

“You can borrow something of mine.”

His shoulders rose and fell one last time before he pulled out of my lap. I told myself not to look at all that naked perfection. I looked anyway.

Every inch of him was fucking flawlessness. A literal dream in the flesh. I tried not to acknowledge it, but deep down, I knew I was ruined for anyone else.

And he hadn’t even touched me.

I went to my locker and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. When I turned back, he was right behind me, and I jolted in surprise.

His cheeks were pink, not the same kind of flush he’d worn when I sucked him dry. This was different… shy.

My heart skipped. God, I liked him like this. Soft, docile, and sweet. How satisfying it was to be the one who tamed him.

“Put these on,” I said, thrusting the clothes between us.

I expected him to argue. “These are yours?”

My answer was gruff. “I said they were.”

He pulled them into his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

Possession roared inside me, muffling all other thoughts. Forcing myself away, I stepped around him and kept my back turned so he could dress.

That possession in me roared again, demanding that any privacy he had was mine. Telling me I was stupid for offering him discretion when I’d literally just had his dick deep in my throat.

Fuck, did I love that. Having his rigid, pulsing cock against my tongue. It was like swallowing his heartbeat, hoarding a piece of his life. And the way he surrendered…

Completely ruined.

“What about you?” he said from behind.

I glanced down at the tent in my pants. “What about me?”

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