I swallow hard, forcing my gaze back to his face, but it doesn’t help. That look in his eyes, that mix of challenge and something darker, sends a shiver down my spine.
And when he speaks for a second time, his voice low and teasing—“What can I do for you, Commander?”—it is all I can do to stay upright.
What the hell am I doing?
Before I can talk myself out of it, I close the space between us, my boots clicking against the floor until I am standing directly in front of him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch—just holds my gaze with those sharp, cocky eyes of his, like he is daring me to make the first move.
Fine. I will.
“I can think of a few things you can do for me,” I say, my voice low but steady, dripping with authority.
His smirk widens, his gaze dipping ever so slightly before returning to my face, waiting for the catch.
“But,” I continue, leaning in just enough so that my words brush against him like a whisper, “it will be on my terms and mine only. No one can know about this.”
His expression shifts, the playful arrogance flickering with something deeper—something that makes the air between us feel even heavier.
For a heartbeat, neither of us speaks. It feels like the entire room is holding its breath, waiting to see who will break first.
Then his face softens into something darker, and he tilts his head just enough to meet me at eye level.
“As you wish, Commander,” he says, his voice just as low as mine, and damn if it doesn’t send a shiver racing down my spine.
I don’t know what game I am playing here or if I can even win it. But right now, with him standing so close, his skin still damp from the shower, and his words laced with heat, I don’t care.
I take a step back, needing to put some distance between us before I lose my damn mind. My heart is pounding like I just pulled out of a high-speed dive, and the look in his eyes isn’t helping.
“We need some ground rules,” I say firmly, crossing my arms over my chest like it will shield me from the intensity radiating off him. “If this is going to happen—and that’s a big if—there are boundaries.”
His smirk doesn’t falter, but there is something sharper in his gaze now, like he is genuinely interested in hearing what I have to say.
“One, this doesn’t leave the two of us. No one finds out. Not Knox, not Noah, not anyone on the team.” My voice is steady, and I stare him down, daring him to challenge me.
He nods, his features softening into something that might be respect. “Understood.”
“Two,” I continue, “what happens outside the airfield stays there. The second we’re on base or in the air, it’s strictly professional. No looks, no comments, no…”—I pause, gesturing between us—“whatever this is.”
His lips twitch, like he is holding back a laugh, but he nods again. “Crystal clear, Commander.”
“And three.” I step closer this time, letting my voice drop an octave. “When I say it’s over, it’s over. No questions, no arguments.”
That wipes the amusement from his face. He studies me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, but eventually, he nods. “Your terms,” he replies, his tone softer but no less intense.
“Good.” I straighten my shoulders. “As long as we’re clear.”
As I turn to leave, his voice stops me in my tracks.
“Crystal clear,” he repeats, and when I glance back, that smirk has returned in full force. “But just so we’re clear, Commander—you may set the terms, but I play to win.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. Because the way my pulse quickens tells me he is already too damn good at this game.
I draga hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I watch Ash across the hangar. Three days. Three days, we have played the part of commander and rookie. Three days of “Yes, ma’am” every time I give an order. Three days of him keeping his hands to himself, following every damn rule I set like he is the perfect little soldier. It is driving me out of my mind.
I can handle Ash when he is cocky and playful, pushing my buttons just to see if I’ll snap. That is who he is, the reckless flirt who knows exactly how to get under my skin. But this? This obedient, disciplined version of him? It is a different torment. Because I know—know—he is doing it on purpose. Playing the long game. Making me want to break my own damn rules.
I narrow my eyes as he adjusts the strap of his flight helmet, his biceps flexing under the snug fit of his flight suit. Damn him. He catches me looking, of course, because Ash always knows when I am watching. And then—then—the bastard smirks. Barely there, just the slightest curve of his lips before he schools his face back into something neutral. But I saw it.
This is it.
