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“Juliet,” he said, his voice a rough purr that sent a thrill of arousal through her. He didn’t sound sleepy this time, just interested.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Good girl. You didn’t make me wait long.”

“I just had to take my hair down,” she blurted, then rolled her eyes at herself.

“Mmm. Are you going to send me a picture?”

“I’m no good at selfies.”

“Be a good girl and send me a picture.”

“But why?” she whined.

“Because I want to see your face.”

Okay, maybe her heart just exploded a little. No biggie.

She did her best to take a nice picture, but her eyes were glassy—maybe it was the alcohol, but she suspected it was probably from talking to him. Feeling like an idiot, she sent it.

He sighed. “Such a pretty girl. You should be here in my bed.”

“You don’t play with drunk girls, remember?”

“Damn. I guess it’s a good thing I can’t do anything to you from here other than ask awkward questions.”

She sighed. It would have been nice to come home to him and jump his bones, although she doubted she’d have the upper hand for long.

“What was that sigh for?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You making me do things,” she whispered.

“I’d have to make you? You wouldn’t willingly do those things for me?”

She pressed her thighs together, feeling ridiculous for finding this relatively tame conversation so arousing.

“I might, but I like feeling how strong you are, and knowing that I couldn’t get away if you decided not to let me.”

“You want to struggle?”

She closed her eyes and imagined the feel of his hands wrapped around her wrists. How big he was, and how small and helpless she’d felt when he’d taken charge of her.

“Yes.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “I want you to show me who’s in charge.”

“You want me to take what I want?”

She thought of him forcing his cock into her ass and she clenched against the imaginary invasion. “I . . . want to be able to make it stop if I need to, but yes. I liked what your friends were doing at the club.”

“You like the idea of being punished?”

“Yeah. Is that weird?”

He groaned, not bothering to hide it from her. “Fuck. You’re making me really, really sorry I’m not there right now.”

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