Page 34 of Through the Flames
Most people couldn’t stand to sit with my silence, but she just took it in stride, like it was natural.
She didn’t try to fix my coldness, didn’t treat me like a broken vending machine of emotions. She just gave me her trust.
Contrary to her extroverted nature and the chaos that seemed to follow her everywhere, it wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was casual, and in a way, that made it worse.
I didn’t know what to do with something so gentle, handed to someone like me. But fuck, I wanted it anyway. When it came to Ella Kincaid, I was greedy.
I’d dismantle the entire system just to fucking make her mine.
Ella straightened up and stretched slightly, as if this whole thing hadn’t been a big deal at all, but just another night of plotting felony-adjacent chaos.
“Thank you, Hunter. You’re really the best!” She beamed.
My heart was pounding against my ribs, at the cusp of exploding. Then she reached over and squeezed my shoulder briefly.
Tingles spread rapidly down my arm, starting from the spot where her hand had rested.
Unlike the usual discomfort I felt when others touched me, her touch felt overwhelmingly exhilarating.
Every single fingerprint was a brand.
My whole body was tight as a fucking bow. Unable to form any words, I just gave her a sharp nod, watching her out of the corner of my eye.
“Gotta run now. Just let me know if you need anything else.”
You. To stay here forever.Obviously.
Ella gave me another smile before she left the room. She didn’t realize she’d crossed a line no one else ever has.
My skin sure as hell didn’t forget her.
She walked out casually, the door clicking shut, and I was still fucking recovering.
For a long time I didn’t move. Didn’t open the next program, didn’t look away from the door. I was frozen in time and space, endlessly replaying this moment, not to analyze it, but to relive it.
Blinking a couple of times, I finally snapped out of it. Fuck me. My balls felt tight as fucking rocks, and her scent was still lingering.
What would she have done if I’d bent her over my desk? Would she have been into it, or would she have pushed me away?
Funnily enough, I was fine with either option.
If I’d touched her, I wouldn’t have stopped. Not tonight. Not when she came to me, asked me for help, and trusted me with her mess like it was nothing.
She’d been in my space, sharing my air, and yet it hadn’t been enough.
But it had been a start.
Shaking my head as if it would clear my thoughts, I directed my attention back to the drop schedule and locked the final deployment to my command only.
Re-checking the encryption, I made sure there were no traceable points. Everything looked solid, routed through a web of anonymized channels, burner servers, and digital chaff.
Thinking five steps ahead always paid off.
Always.
Ella didn’t know it yet, but she’d never leave my web again.
***
