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achievements just bring tears to my eyes. He’s already gotten offers from several orchestras around the world, even Paris.”
    “A young virtuoso?” Dimitri asked.
    “Yes,” Mr. Dubisson said. “I am proud of him. You must come to hear him play at the recital. He’s performing ‘Danse Russe’ by Tchaikovsky.”
    Dimitri whistled. “That’s a very difficult piece.” He extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Eli Coleman.” Eli hesitated at first but didn’t want to appear rude in front of his teacher and peers. He accepted Dimitri’s hand. It encircled his. Eli’s heart did that freaky little thumping thing again. The sound echoed in his ears. “Nice to meet you,” he said. He slid his hand out of Dimitri’s.
    “I’m looking forward to hearing you perform at the recital. Your parents must be very proud of you.”
    “His father is a judge,” Mr. Dubisson said. “And yes, they are very proud of him.”
    Dimitri raised an eyebrow.
    Eli looked away. If Mr. Dubisson didn’t stop singing his praises, he was going to choke him. Dimitri just seemed to take all the information in, smiling sweetly at him. Eli’s cock stretched in his briefs, more furiously than it had for Randall. He’d pay for the psychiatrist himself. Someone had to cure him of this new passion he’d acquired.
    “Everyone take your seats,” Mr. Dubisson finally said. He turned to Dimitri. “You can sit in the booth upstairs behind the bandstand,” he told him. “You can get a perfect view of the students from there and the acoustics are great in that room.” He led Dimitri to the room and then returned to begin the practice.
    Eli peered upstairs briefly and then raised his violin. It was a long, grueling two hours, and once it ended, he gathered his things and hightailed it out of the school and to his car. He didn’t expect to find Dimitri leaning against it. How did the man know which car belonged to him?
    “What kind of parents give an eighteen-year-old a BMW?” Dimitri asked.
    “Kiss off,” Eli said, opening the backseat and gently placing his violin case inside.
    Dimitri didn’t appear offended by the rebuff. “I’d rather kiss you,” Dimitri said.
    Eli nearly bumped his head on the top of the door when Dimitri said this to him. He looked around nervously, afraid their conversation might be overheard. “What are you doing here?”
    “I just came by to say hello to Mr. Dubisson. I never dreamed I’d run into you here.”
    “Liar,” Eli said, closing the back door.
    Dimitri chuckled.
    The chuckle did annoying things to the pit of Eli’s stomach.
    “You have a nasty little temper and one mean right punch.” He moved his jaw around with his hand as he leaned against Eli’s car.
    “I hope you didn’t come here for an apology?”
    “Nope, I came to invite you on a date.”
    Eli frowned at him. “Then you wasted your time. I don’t date men.”
    “I’ll remind you of that tonight when I’m thrusting inside of you.” Eli felt his eyes widen and his dick move.
    “Awe, come on. How are we going to get to know each other if we don’t spend some time together?”
    “I don’t like you,” Eli lied. “You can save yourself the trouble.” Thrusting ?
    “Then why are you blushing?”
    “I am not.”
    “Oh, well. It’s probably my imagination. Hmm, since I can’t convince you, I wonder if I can get Randall to accompany me to the French Quarter Seafood Festival.”
    Eli glared at him. “Don’t you dare go near him.” Dimitri chuckled. “Ah, did I touch a nerve? Do you like him too?
    He is something special with all that black hair and big blue eyes.” There was no way he was going to let Dimitri get his hands on his friend. “Randall’s not like that.”
    “How do you know?” Dimitri asked. “Have you ever tried to kiss him?”
    “No, don’t be ridiculous. You’re the only one…”
    “You’ve ever kissed. I’m flattered.”
    “Lean off my car.”
    “Not until you agree to go out with