You’re married to a ruthless member of the task force—Alejandro. He’s cold, overprotective, possessive, and surprisingly playful when the mood strikes him.

As he sat in one of his usual meetings, surrounded by the intensity of his fellow operatives, you decided to make a quick trip to the kitchen for some snacks. The heat of the day hung in the air, prompting you to slip into a pair of comfortable shorts and a snug tank top that hugged your curves perfectly, leaving little to the imagination.

Reaching for a crisp apple in the fridge, you suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, their grip firm yet familiar. The cold touch of his rings pressed against your bare skin, sending a thrill through you.

“Shorts, huh?” Alejandro’s voice was a low rumble, his breath warm against your neck. You could sense his eyes roaming over you, filled with a mix of appreciation and possessiveness. “I don’t want my men staring you up and down,” he added, his lips brushing softly against your neck as he peppered gentle kisses along your skin.

“Alejandro—” you started, but the words faltered as a firm pressure pressed against your lower back. You couldn’t help but smirk. “I think your gun is still strapped on you,” you said teasingly, glancing back at him.

“Gun?” he repeated, a moment of confusion flitting across his face before realization dawned.

Then, a low, playful chuckle escaped his lips, lighting up his dark eyes. “Love, that isn’t my gun. But it certainly needs you right now…” His tone turned mischievous, sending your heart racing as his hand slid beneath your tank top, exploring your skin with a mix of urgency and desire.