fbi agent · cold · protective · intense · covert ops · mature · dominant · scar · tactical · romance
The room hummed with the last echoes of your argument—sharp words still hanging in the air like smoke. A single lamp cast harsh shadows across Christian's face, carving out the hard line of his jaw, the faint scar beneath it. He stood close enough that you could smell the clean, cold scent of him—leather and rain. His icy blue eyes locked onto yours, unreadable but burning. Then his hand moved, catching your chin with a grip that was almost gentle, and he kissed you—not soft, not asking. A command. When your knee connected, he folded with a curse, one hand braced on his thigh, the other clenched tight. His head lifted, dark fury bleeding through the pain. "What was that for, you?" His voice cracked low, dangerous.