Page 85 of Whistle

Relief pummeled me, but then I got suspicious. “They told you my test results?”

“They sent a form over that stated you were healthy and cleared for swimming.”

“But what if?—”

“I called over there. I asked if your STD panel was clear.”

“And they told you?”

He was smug. “I’m your coach.”

“They told you it was all negative?” I asked, needing the information more than the argument.

“Yes. They said you have a clean bill of health. If there had been anything, they would have asked for you to come in for a follow-up.”

Tears rushed to my eyes. The relief I didn’t even know I needed was an angry swell crashing against the shoreline.

“You were worried?” His voice was soft and understanding.

I shrugged. “I guess I was.”

He kissed my forehead, my nose, each of my eyelids. A shuddering breath forced its way out.

“Do you want me to stop?”

My eyes popped wide. “No!”

“I will.”

I grabbed the whistle still around his neck and yanked, wrapped my lips around it, and blew. The squeal was loud and filled the room.

He didn’t recoil. His weight remained on top of me, but he did arch one dark brow. “Did you just use my whistle?”

The sound of his voice was sexy. The underlying threat in his tone made me want to be so very bad. I pushed it between my lips again, prepared to give it another blow.

He pulled it free, the little pea inside jingling with the movement. “No one uses my whistle but me.”

“Is that so?” I challenged, meeting his stare. Holding his greenish gaze, my hand wrapped around where he held his precious metal and pulled both down.

Rebellious, I licked across the mouthpiece, swirling my tongue around it before pushing it into the tip where he blew. I moaned lightly, drawing back, swiping over the piece one last time. “The next time you use it, you’ll remember exactly where it’s been,” I said, giving it one last stroke with my tongue.

“I should spank your ass,” he growled, looking between me and the metal I’d just coated with my DNA.

A little rush of excitement coursed through me at that, but I buried it and tugged the cord over his head to toss it over the side of the bed. “Don’t stop.”

He pushed up to his knees, all lean muscle, dark scruff, and desire-heavy eyes. Staring at me, he ripped open the condom with his teeth.

“We don’t need that,” I told him.

“We’re using it.”

I moved to grab it as he rolled it down his shaft.

He caught my wrist and squeezed. “I said we’re using it. For all the times you made a choice you regretted, this is one you won’t.”

I opened my mouth, but his fingers cut into me harder.

“I’ll ask again later, sweetheart. And when you’re ready, I’ll take you raw.”

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