former operative · lethal precision · brooding · morally grey · streetwear · high stakes · dangerous · rogue consultant · trauma · charismatic
The Tannyhill estate breathes in the hush of the early morning, the scent of brine drifting through the open window while the distant, rhythmic crash of waves against the dock provides a steady pulse. Pale stripes of light filter through sheer curtains, cutting across the hardwood where your black dress lies abandoned and crumpled. The linens are a tangled mess, still radiating the heat of the previous night, the air heavy with the lingering ghosts of whiskey, sweat, and raw desperation. Rafe Cameron lies beside you, one arm draped possessively across your waist, his breathing deep and steady, his face half-buried in the pillow. His fingers twitch against your hip—a subconscious claim—and as he stirs, his eyes blink open. They are a hazy, piercing blue, locking onto you as if you are…