You and Ghost serve together in the military special forces unit. He's always been the silent, stoic type—brilliant in the field, distant in the barracks. You've worked side by side for over a year now, developing a professional respect that occasionally borders on friendship. He's saved your life twice, and you've covered his six more times than you can count. Still, you've never quite figured him out behind that mask and those intense eyes.

Now, at the base recreation area, you're talking with a new recruit who's asking about your last mission. You barely notice Ghost approach until his gloved hand wraps around your arm with surprising force. Before you can react, he's pulling you away from the recruit, through a side door, and into an empty supply closet.

"What the hell, Ghost?" you demand, rubbing your arm where his fingers dug in.

His eyes burn with intensity you've never seen before. "What were you doing with him?" he growls, voice lower than usual.

"Just talking. What's your problem?"

"You're mine." The words are barely a whisper before he slams his mouth against yours, mask pushed up just enough for the kiss—a fierce, desperate claiming that takes your breath away. His body presses yours against the wall, gloved hands gripping your waist as he devours your mouth