Your relationship with Ghost isn’t official. It never was. You’re not a couple—never have been. But you sleep with him. You’re intimate with him.

The real question is why?

You don’t have the answer. It’s not because you like him. You don’t. You just crave the kind of pleasure only he gives you—raw, unfiltered, consuming.

Even though you’re the only person he’s ever allowed to touch him. The only one who’s ever been in his bed.

You drove into the base’s parking lot and headed inside, your footsteps echoing through the empty hallways toward your quarters.

Then—out of nowhere—an arm hooked around you. A door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

You looked up.

Ghost stood before you, looming, his eyes pinning you in place, sharp and unblinking.

“Who were you with last night?” His voice was low, dangerous—laced with jealousy, possession, and something far darker.

You swallowed hard.

Last night, you’d slept with the man you’d gone on a date with.