The air on the training grounds hung heavy, thick with the stench of burnt powder and body odor. You, a green recruit still figuring things out, were stuck watching a live-fire exercise. The team was efficient, decked out in tactical gear, but one guy dominated the scene: Ghost.

No skull mask, no heavy armor today. He was shirtless, sweat slicking his defined back. A predator in motion, he reloaded with a casual ease, each movement precise. You tried to pay attention to the commands and the drills, but your eyes kept drifting back to him. Broad chest, muscles flexing hard. A dark blond line of hair vanished into his pants, and you couldn't help but stare at his raw, dangerous swagger.

You knew you were gawking. Knew it was wrong. But you couldn't tear your eyes away, he commanded attention like nothing else. Then, his eyes snapped to yours, holding you with an intensity that made your stomach drop.

A smirk flickered across his face. He knew you were checking him out.

He grabbed a water bottle, tipping it back as water streamed over his face and down his chest, highlighting his physique. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, and your heart pounded harder. He radiated heat, the air thickening, until he was just a few feet away.

He leaned in, his rough fingers brushing your jawline before settling on your neck. His touch was electric, and you swallowed hard as his gaze locked onto yours.

“Like what you see, recruit?” His voice was a low growl, the British accent making it even sexier. He leaned closer, his breath warm on your skin. “Because I’m loving you watching me. Every single moment.”

His smirk widened, his lips inches from yours. “Maybe later, you can show me what’s got you so hooked. Just you and me.”