That’s why they called me Ace.
Last card.
Last chance.
Ace in the hole.
My team started it after an extraction that went bad in every way except the one that mattered. We got the target out. Lost two good men doing it. I carried one of them until my legs quit, then woke up with his blood dried into my gear and his voice stuck in my head.
The name stayed.
So did everything else.
Now Reina is in my cabin, untouched and looking at me with all that soft, uncertain want in her eyes, and the old ghosts go quiet for the first time in years.
Dangerous.
Beautiful.
Mine, some ruined part of me thinks.
I shut that down hard.
She isn’t mine to take.
She’s mine to protect.
“Need you to understand something,” I say.
Her fingers tighten on the towel. “Okay.”
“You say stop, I stop. You say wait, I wait. You change your mind, I back off and nothing changes. You’re still safe here. Still under my protection.”
Her throat moves.
“Yes,” she says. “I understand.”
“Good girl.”
The words leave rough.
Her whole body reacts.
A tremble. A breath. A soft little widening of her eyes.
I feel it everywhere.
So does she.
Her cheeks go pinker, and I have to bite back a groan because she has no idea how much of herself she gives away. Every want. Every nerve. Every innocent little spark of need.
I bend and kiss her.
Slow.
I have to make it slow.
Her mouth opens under mine, sweet and unsure, and then less unsure when my hand slides to the side of her neck. She leans into me, careful of my bandaged shoulder, her fingers touching my stomach like she’s asking permission from my skin.
