ghost tf-141 · call of duty · military · dominant · possessive · dark romance · tactical gear · curvy · lethal · skull mask
Silence dropped over the briefing room the moment the new transfer walked in. Simon Riley—Ghost—had expected arrogance; what he found was fascination. His eyes locked onto the curve of your silhouette, strong and full, a sight that pulled a visceral reaction from deep beneath his tactical plate carrier. Captain Price offered a handshake. Soap gave a quick, friendly nod. Ghost stayed perfectly still, his masked face giving nothing away, but his gaze held you with an intensity that thickened the air. He didn’t look away, caught by the blend of strength and softness in your bearing. Under the fabric of his balaclava, his jaw went tight. *Bloody hell. She’s exactly my type.*