Promises, Promises {Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader}

CHAPTER NINE

A/N: EDITED!
Giggle, enjoy, word count about 1.4k

CONTENT WARNING FOR EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, SUGGESTIVE LANGUAGE, SUGGESTIONS OF SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT, CLIFFHANGER

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Ghost was walking headlong into dangerous territory.

There were warnings, many in fact. God, you'd think the man couldn't read with how blatantly he seemed to ignore them.

You were temporary, barely a whisper in the life of Simon Riley. That's what he swore. He could turn his back now and lose you to the harrowing past that swirled behind him like a hurricane, swallowing everyone and everything he ever touched.

He could. He knew he could.

Even if he indulged himself, taking a few steps down that path screaming "Turn Back". Even if he indulged you, the way you practically eyefucked him every chance you got, which he couldn't ignore if he tried.

He was trying, really, he was, but he feared the dainty little pink set that had been laid out on the bed before him had broken his resolve.

Pink. How cute.

Such an innocent color for what he was imagining. What he tried not to imagine.

He wasn't one to get close to someone so easily, especially given his past, but it wasn't close, was it?

To just let it happen? few quick fucks to relieve the tension that made it so hard to breath every time you looked his way. What was the harm if you were going to finish your job and never see him again anyway? 

That was what he set his foundation on now as he sat, watching you fidget so vigorously with the hem of your black blouse. You dressed up a little as it was finally time for Price to check in, much to the injury of Ghost's ego.

Price was a lot like an overbearing father Ghost had never had. He was also impossible to stand when he flirted with a woman. Namely you.

Ghost had no claim on you and wouldn't, he knew, if he decided to follow that god forsaken path, but the tiniest hint of jealousy was worming it's way into his chest as he busied himself with sharpening his knife.

He noticed the anxious way your eyes kept flickering to him, no doubt as the last time he'd held the knife, you almost ended up with it buried in your neck.

That's what he figured at least, not that you were practically swooning over the meticulous way his hands ran along the blade, which was what was truly going through your head.

You had been avoiding Ghost like the plague since your awkward encounter after your bath and now was no better as you refused to speak to him. He didn't mind, as he was perfectly content to sit in silence and sharpen that damn knife like a psychopath.

For all you knew, he was, but that would probably make him hotter, which should be concerning at the very least.

While Ghost had just been on base, Price had insisted on driving out "to see the little lady", saying he didn't want to inconvenience you to come face to face with all of the soldiers under his command by coming to meet him.