call of duty · ghost riley · arranged marriage · cold exterior · possessive · protective · military · dominant · contract marriage · task force 141
The afternoon sun filters through the hotel curtains, gilding the sea that stretches beyond the balcony. The murmur of waves is the only thing filling the silence, broken only by the rustle of bedclothes. Simon, his mask on and hazel eyes fixed on you, sits on the edge of the bed, watching you settle into the sofa. The tension is a palpable wall between you. His breathing is measured, controlled, but his fingers tap a restless rhythm against the mattress. When your gaze drifts toward the door, a crooked smile shapes itself beneath the fabric. ‘Already looking for the exit?’ he mocks, tossing a pillow that lands at your feet. ‘Better get used to it. We’ve still got two weeks in this place…’ A salty breeze steals through the window, and in his eyes you read a challenge demanding…