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The phone stays pressed to my ear while my heart beats too hard in anticipation. I don’t know what he’ll ask of me, but I kind of like doing as he says.

“Stand with your back to the door.”

My legs feel unsteady as I slide out of bed. The floor creaks beneath my feet and I freeze, listening for movement elsewhere in the house. I cross the room and press my back gently to the wood.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

I pull the T-shirt away from my body to look at how plain it is. There’s no way to make it sound enticing.

“A pink T-shirt and denim shorts.” I glance down at myself. “A bra and panties.”

There’s a pause on the line, heavy with intention.

“Take off the bra.”

A simple request for someone alone in her room. But it’s charged with something more.

I set the phone down on the bed and unhook my bra to pull it out the bottom of my shirt. The relief of letting my breasts fall free is so immediate, I forget what I’m doing for a moment.

Then I pick up the phone. “It’s off.”

“I want you to be naughty for me, Zaiya. Touch yourself.”

“Where?”

“You know where.”

My eyes close as I lean my head back against the door. I don’t want to disappoint him. Not that he would know if I’m lying anyway.

The soft skin of my breasts almost shocks me when my hand slides under my shirt and inches up. I let my fingertips smooth over both of them, lingering on my nipples as they tighten.

“Tell me how wet your pussy is.”

A whimper of protest escapes my throat as heat floods my face. I feel weird doing this on the phone with him, but it’s even worse doing it with the Boltons sleeping across the hall.

As much as I’d like to deny him, my body just can’t. Not after knowing how good he makes it feel.

My hand moves down, fingers wiggling into my shorts and beneath my panties. When I feel the slickness there, I pause.

“A little wet.”

“Only a little?”

Recklessness takes hold. I’m torn between shame and the dangerous thrill of pleasuring myself for him.

“Rub your clit for me. You’ll need to be soaked for what you’re going to do.”

My response is only a whimper, though I have a hundred questions. I’m too nervous to ask what he has planned, so I do the simple thing and obey.

I let my middle finger slide down to gather the wetness and drag it up, rubbing it around my clit. Everything slips away, including him. All I think about is his body on top of me, his fingers inside me, how he rubbed my clit exactly the right way.

“Good girl.”

My eyes shoot open as if I’ve been caught. The praise goes straight through me, sending a fresh wave of heat right down between my legs. I don’t know why I crave it.

“Are you wet enough now?” His voice has that hint of mischief that makes me ache to know what he’s thinking.

“Yes…”