He tugs on her ponytail and, even though he isn’t rough, a tingling sensation travels from her scalp down, down, down. She lets out a small whimper, and Charlie freezes. “Don’t do that,” he warns, his voice quiet. “Or I’m going to have to bend you over this table and take you right here.” “Well, then don’t do that,” she counters, “or I’m going to have to let you.”
