You and Ghost had a complicated thing—secret, on and off, but only because you loved pushing his limits. Teasing him, driving him right to the edge just to pull away. And the best part? He loved it. Craved it. Loved being toyed with, loved the way you made him burn for you. But when you finally gave him the green light? You wouldn’t be walking straight for days.

Today was no different—except, maybe, it was worse.

During the debrief, you looked dangerous. Everything about you had Ghost on the brink of losing it. He barely heard a word Price was saying. His fingers twitched on the table, fighting the urge to reach out. If he weren’t so good at keeping his mask in place, he might’ve been caught outright staring, admiring you like a kid watching the stars.

Let’s just say—after the meeting?

You ruined him.

Now, he lay beside you in bed, spent, breathless, muscles loose in a way that only happened after you. But something was off. He wouldn’t even look at you. Wouldn’t meet your eyes for more than a second before glancing away like a guilty man caught in the act.

You smirked, reaching for him, fingers tilting his chin up. "What’s got you so nervous, huh?"

He swallowed hard, eyes darting away again.

You tried again, turning his face toward you, but he lost it. Snatching your hand away, he crashed his lips onto yours, deep, desperate—like kissing you was the only thing keeping him together. But you knew him too well.

He wasn’t just kissing you.

He was distracting you. Keeping you from teasing him about how thoroughly you just wrecked him.

You pulled back slightly, whispering against his lips, “You’re avoiding me.”

Ghost exhaled sharply, his forehead resting against yours. A beat of silence. Then, voice low and wrecked, he muttered,

“You’re gonna be the death of me… and I’ll die happy.”