Soulless (Lawless #2)(11)

“I may not ever be a good man, baby, but unlike my piece of shit old man, I think I’d be a good dad. I want a girl. Pink hair, just like you.

I cover my mouth so Bear won’t hear my sob and hold the phone away for a second so I can sniffle.

“Don’t worry about me,” he continues, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “And for f*ck’s sake do what you’re f*cking told. There is a plan in place. Bethany is working on getting me out. But it’s gonna take time. Trust me. Trust us. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you trust me?”

Yes. I can.

“Now we can talk, tell me something about you. Something I don’t know. Something that’s not jump-off-a-bridge depressing ’cause there ain’t a lot of shit in here worth smiling at.”

I smile into the phone and say the first thing that comes to mind. “I’ve always wanted a dog. A big one. We had one when I was younger, a Great Dane. My parents never let me get another one after he died, but I’ve always wanted one.”

“I’ll get you one, baby. The biggest one they’ve got. The second I get out.”

“Do you really think you’re coming home?” The question is twofold. Is he really going to get out? And will he really be able to survive this?

“I don’t really know that. But I know this, a lot of people in my life have tried to take me out when I had nothing to live for and they’ve never succeeded, and I see that as a good thing.”

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“It means now that I have something to live for, they are going to have to come after me with a f*cking nuke strapped to their chests in order to take me out, ’cause I’m not going anywhere, Ti. I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever. I promise.”

“I believe you,” I say, because I do.

“Now tell me where you are,” Bear says, his voice dropping an octave. “Are you in our bed?” he asks and there is something about his voice mixed with the OUR BED that already has me laying back on the bed and snaking my hand down the front of my stomach.

“I’m in our bed,” I say, practically purring.

“Panties and a tank top?” he asks, citing my preferred sleeping attire.

“Yes,” I say.

“Good, now listen to me, baby. You remember that first time I took you in the truck? Remember how I pushed my cock inside of you. You were so tight, I think it hurt me more than it hurt you when you gave me your sweet virgin *.”

I snake my hand down lower. “I remember,” I say and it almost comes out as a moan as I dip my fingers into my panties.

“Are you touching yourself?” Bear asks.

“Yes, I am.”

“Good girl,” he says, his voice straining. “Push your panties down and spread your legs for me.”

I tear off my panties and spread my legs wide as if he were between them viewing what’s his. “Okay,” I say.

“Do you remember the first time I tasted you? The first time my tongue touched your clit, your *? Do you remember what it felt like when I f*cked you with my tongue until you couldn’t take any more?”

Closing my eyes, I circle my clit with two fingers remembering in vivid detail every single thing that Bear is mentioning. His warm wet tongue, the tightening in my lower stomach when he relentlessly f*cked me with it. Faster and faster I circle until I’m already close to the edge. “Yes,” I say.

Bear chuckles. “Keep those legs spread wide. Remember what it felt like to hold on to my hair while my face was between your thighs.” Closer and closer I inch toward the edge, faster and faster I circle my clit. Then harder, until even the slightest of breezes might tip me over. “Bear,” I moan, “I’m so. I’m so…”

“I can’t wait to do that again. But I’m not going to let you come on my tongue next time,” Bear says, and suddenly I’m disappointed.

“You’re not?”

“No, because just when you are about to come in my mouth, I’m going to sit up and pull you onto my cock and slam into you. I’m going to f*ck you. HARD. Until we’re both f*cking screaming and coming, and coming some more.”

I fall, I fall, and I fall, and just as I am about to crash over the edge into the most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever had using my own hand, there is a commotion in the background. “Fuck. I gotta go, Ti.”

“Wait,” I pant, my eyes spring open. “When are you…?” I say, unsure of what exactly I’m going to ask.

“Love—” The “you” is cut off and the line goes dead. I hang my head between my knees. “He’s going to be okay,” I say aloud, trying to reassure myself.

I am high. I am sad. I am happy. I am anxious.

The phone call with Bear makes me one thing I haven’t been since he’s been gone and that is the thing I want to cling to until the second he’s with me again.

Hopeful.

I hang up the phone and hand it back to King who puts it in his mouth and swallows it in one big gulp.

That’s how I knew the entire call was nothing more than a dream. The reality was that Bear had issued a no-contact rule. I was not to reach out to him and he was not to reach out to me. No calls. No visits. King explained that visiting the man in jail who was accused of murdering my parents didn’t make me look like the innocent Bear was trying to make me out to be.