The tears are coming faster now, soaking into the pillow beneath my head. I think about all the reasons I should stay away. My mother's ultimatum. The police investigation. The secrets we're keeping, the lies we're telling, the grave in the mountains that could destroy us both.
But then I think about Phoenix. The way he looks at me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters and the way he killed for me without hesitation, without regret, without asking for anything in return except my love.
"I'll come back." The words leave my mouth before I've consciously decided to say them. "Tomorrow. I'll book a flight in the morning."
The sound he makes is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Really?"
"Really." I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, smiling despite the tears still falling. "But Phoenix, I need you to hear me. If you ever put a tracker on my phone again, if you ever block me from leaving, I will walk away. And I won't come back."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because I mean it. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, but I won't let that love destroy me. I won't become Olive."
"You won't." His voice is fierce now, certain. "I won't let that happen. You're not Olive, and I'm not my father. We're going to write our own story, Jade. Together."
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly it hurts.
"I wish you were here," I whisper. The ache in my chest has transformed into something else, something hotter and more urgent. Missing him isn't just emotional anymore. My body craves him in ways I didn't know were possible before we met.
"I wish I was there too." His voice drops lower, rougher. "Tell me what you're wearing."
Heat floods my cheeks. "Phoenix..."
"Tell me."
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening. "Just a t-shirt. One of Chloe's old ones."
"Take it off."
The command in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. I hesitate for only a moment before sitting up and pulling the shirt over my head. The cool air raises goosebumps across my bare skin.
"It's off," I breathe.
"Good girl." The words make something clench low in my belly. "Now lie back. Close your eyes. Pretend it's my hands touching you instead of yours."
I do as he says, sinking back against the pillows, letting my eyes flutter closed. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I can almost feel him there with me. The heat of his body. The calluses on his palms. The way he always knows exactly where to touch me to make me fall apart.
"Touch yourself for me," he murmurs. "Start at your neck. Trace your fingers down slowly, the way I would."
My hand trembles as I bring it to my throat. I trail my fingertips down the column of my neck, across my collarbone, lower. The sensation is electric, amplified by his voice in my ear and the knowledge that he's doing the same thing thousands of miles away.
"Are you touching yourself too?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
"Yes." The word comes out strained, breathless. "I'm imagining it's your hand wrapped around me instead of mine. Imagining the way you look when you take me in your mouth, those beautiful eyes looking up at me."
I moan softly, my fingers drifting lower. "I want you here. I want to feel you inside me."
"Soon." His breathing is heavier now, rougher. "Tomorrow night, I'm going to take you apart piece by piece. I'm going to worship every inch of your body until you forget your own name. I'm going to make you come so many times you'll be begging me to stop."
"I won't beg you to stop." My back arches off the bed as my fingers find the place where I need them most. "I never want you to stop."
"That's my girl." Pride and possessiveness color his voice, and instead of bristling at it, I lean into it. I am his girl. His and only his. "Tell me how it feels."
"Good." The word comes out as a gasp. "So good. But not as good as when you do it."
"Nothing compares to the real thing." His voice is ragged now, and I can tell he's close. "I can't wait to have you back in my bed. Back where you belong."
The tension building inside me crests and breaks, and I cry out his name into the darkness of the hotel room. I hear him groan on the other end of the line, and knowing he's falling apart at the same moment I am makes the pleasure even more intense.
