5. Stella
STELLA
My heart is hammering against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm born half from Easton’s overwhelming physical proximity and half from the cold dread pooling in my stomach.
Miller’s voice still echoes through the comms, but the reality has already set in: my apartment, my ultimate safe space, is compromised.
Is it hot in here? Has this room always been so small? My throat is raw and swollen, and it feels like I’m breathing through a straw. I steady myself with a hand against the cool countertop, but it does little to keep the walls from closing in on me.
“Got it, Miller. I’ll call when we’re at the safe house,” comes Easton’s voice. It sounds far away and fuzzy. “Hear that, Stella? …Stella?”
When I don’t respond, he turns around. Easton’s face remains hard and solid, but his brown eyes soften when he sees the embarrassing state I’m in. Why can’t I seem to keep my shit together around him?
My stubborn bodyguard takes a few slow strides toward me, until he’s standing a few feet away. I appreciate the space he’s giving me, especially since I already feel suffocated.
“I promised I’d keep you safe, remember?” he asks, his voice soft yet firm. “As long as I’m next to you, nothing bad will happen.”
I shake my head no, but the motion makes the room spin. I grip the counter, then lean into the familiar, warm embrace of Easton. He has a hand resting on the small of my back, gently guiding me to lean against him instead of the counter.
My body remains rigid for all of two seconds before I tuck my head under his chin and let the mountain of a man hold me. Like always, the world doesn’t feel so scary and lonely when I’m wrapped up in Easton’s arms.
“We’re going to a safe house,” he says as he straightens up and takes a few steps back.
The mention of going to an even more secluded place where I most definitely won’t be able to go outside or contact anyone in my life, has fire roaring through my veins. I don’t feel weak and lost anymore.
“I hardly agreed to come here with you. What makes you think I’d agree to another move?”
“We’re going, Stella. This is non-negotiable.”
I roll my eyes while Easton puts on a black tactical vest and proceeds to gather up more guns and other weapons than I’ve ever seen at one time.
“I thought you said as long as you’re next to me, nothing bad will happen.
Look, you’re right next to me now, so there’s no need to go anywhere else, right? ”
The giant man sighs, dropping his shoulders while he thinks of a response. “Don’t fight me on this,” he grumbles.
Oh boy, was that the wrong thing to say. “If I gave up the first time I heard that, I probably wouldn’t have survived foster care. Are you going to tell me to calm down next?”
Instantly, Easton shifts. The strong yet gentle protector from a moment ago vanishes, replaced by a ruthless battlefield commander.
"We have to move," he says, a sharp edge to his voice. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that leaves no room for debate. "Now." We stare each other down, waiting for the other to break.
When I don’t move, Easton steps into my space and anchors me to his side, half carrying me toward the door.
"Wait, no," I argue, planting my feet as he struggles to get the upper hand. "I need to go back to my apartment first. My backup drives are there, everything I’ve built, all the data—"
"You're not going anywhere near that building, Stella." His voice drops, a low, dangerous rumble that sparks a clash of wills between us.
"You don't get to dictate my life!" I snap, but my protests mean nothing to him. Easton doesn’t argue back, he simply scoops me up, bridal style, and loads me into the same SUV from last night. God, was that really less than twenty-four hours ago?
The stubborn man races to the other side of the car and hops in.
His door slams shut, sealing us inside the tense silence of the vehicle.
As the engine roars to life, the threat becomes more real.
Coupled with my confusing feelings about Easton and why I love/hate his commands, and it’s enough for the final thread to snap.
Frustration bubbles over, sharp and ugly.
"You are an arrogant, controlling brute," I lash out, the insults tearing from my throat. “One minute, you’re holding me while I fall apart, and the next minute, you’re kidnapping me. Again. Is this some twisted game to you? Are you even trying to take down the Shadow Syndicate? Maybe you just get off on manipulating people.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, a cold reflex takes over.
I flinch, bracing myself, fully expecting him to hit me for crossing the line.
I don’t really think he’s lying about the Syndicate, nor do I think he’s trying to manipulate me, but I can’t seem to control my mouth once I get too worked up.
Easton doesn't get offended, he doesn't yell, and he makes no move to slap me. He just watches me, taking my outburst completely in stride. I’m a huffing, puffing, red-faced lunatic, while he’s calm, quiet, and steady.
Slowly, deliberately, he reaches out. It reminds me instantly of last night when he gently tucked my hair behind my ear.
But this time, his large hand cradles my face, his thumb brushing a soft path across my jawline.
That simple, grounding touch sends my heart and mind pulling in entirely different directions.
“Are you done?” he asks softly. I nod. “I’m never going to hurt you, Stella. I won’t lay a hand on you in anger. Ever. You can scream and kick and insult me all day long, but the only thing I care about is your safety.”
My breath hitches. I know he means it. He’s been telling me the same thing from the moment we met.
I just can’t seem to fully accept it. "I'm terrified," I whisper, the truth slipping out before I can stop it. "I’m losing control of my life and I don’t know who to trust." I can feel myself starting to spiral, the panic threatening to take over completely. “I’m sorry, I can’t… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to trust someone even if I wanted to.
What does that say about me? Am I permanently broken?
Will I always be a lonely, bitter, distrustful–”
Easton silences my panic by cupping my jaw firmly and pulling me in for my first kiss. His lips meet mine, his tongue instantly seeking entry. Breathless, I open up for him, a soft moan escaping me when he strokes his tongue against mine.
His hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, where his fingers tangle in my hair. My head tilts back as Easton gently tugs on the strands, adjusting my position so he can dive deeper and give us both what we’ve been craving.
I fist his shirt, pulling him closer, closer, closer, until he’s nearly on top of me.
My arms wrap around his neck, making him growl into our already intense kiss.
My senses are filled with everything Easton, from his earthy, masculine scent to the minty taste of his mouth.
Not to mention his wandering hands, taking time to caress each and every one of my curves.
I have to break the kiss to get some air, but Easton isn’t done yet. He trails his lips down my neck, nipping and licking his way to my chest. His large hand cups my breast, squeezing it and molding it and driving me wild with the unexpected spike of pleasure.
He scrapes his teeth against my bare skin, then pulls down my shirt and the cup of my bra, instantly latching onto my nipple. “Oh!” I exclaim as he lavishes attention on my tight little peak. “Ohhhh… god, yes…”
This earns me a dark chuckle from Easton, who proceeds to swirl his tongue around my nipple and then bite it.
I arch my back, giving him more access to my body.
Fuck, I’ve thought about this more times than I’d like to admit, but nothing compares to the real thing.
I melt into him, my fingers combing through his hair as the raw adrenaline flooding my system transforms into pure, unadulterated desire.
“Fuck,” he rumbles against my breast, the sound vibrating through me and settling between my thighs.
Easton’s beard scratches my sensitive skin as he kisses his way back up my neck and claims my lips once more.
The kiss is heavy, desperate, a consuming fire that burns away the fear.
“Fuck,” he says again, softer this time.
When he finally forces himself to pull back, we are both completely breathless. He rests his forehead against mine for a fraction of a second, his dark eyes burning.
"We aren't finished," he growls, the promise tingling against my lips before he shifts the car into drive and peels away from his home.