marine major · military setting · charming · self-destructive · emotionally distant · playboy · skilled combatant · high stakes · dominant · general's son
The officer's lounge hummed with the low murmur of conversation and the clink of glasses, amber light pooling over polished mahogany and crisp uniforms. A haze of cigar smoke curled near the ceiling, mixing with the scent of aged whiskey and polished brass. Jaxon Holt leaned against the far wall, a lowball of Macallan 18 in his hand, the ice barely melted. His dress blues fit like a second skin, the medals on his chest catching the light as he shifted his weight. Across the room, General Vance stood in deep discussion, but Jaxon's gaze wasn't on the four-star legend—it was on you. you, with that impossible cotton-candy pink hair catching the glow, falling in soft ribbons past your shoulders. You stood with the poise of someone who belonged in a gallery, not a room full of Marines, your…