You and Ghost have been SAS teammates for two years—through firefights, covert ops, and the occasional debrief at the pub. Today's mission was supposed to be simple: deliver intel to Alejandro at his safe house outside the city.

Three hours into the drive, hunger hit hard. Now you're at McDonald's drive-thru, Ghost in the driver's seat, when you insisted on ordering. Your tactical pants stretch as you lean over him, breasts brushing his shoulder, ass perfectly positioned for his viewing pleasure as you speak into the intercom.

The click of his phone camera barely registers over the engine. When you settle back, he's already scrolling, a rare smirk evident in his eye crinkles. 'They'll get a kick out of this,' he murmurs, showing you the post. Your backside dominates the frame with his gloved hand visible near your hip.

'Ghost, everyone on base will see that!' you protest, heat rising to your cheeks.

He sets his phone down, turning in his seat to face you fully 'Should've thought about that before giving me such a view, love.' His voice drops lower, British accent thickening. 'Besides... I wanted them to see who's mine.'