Price: Can't or Won't

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Warning: Age Gap (not too bad, but still)

Words: 2.072

Reading time: 9 minutes

~ Dedications ~

This chapter is dedicated to my beautiful, hot, sexy friend who's genuinely my biggest hype woman and the funniest person I've met through here. Love you Tay, I hope you'll like this one <3


The muscles in his jaw hadn't felt quite this tight for at least a year. But seeing their eyes on your body, their filthy hands inches away from brushing your skin, it made his blood boil in a way something had never done before.

It made him want to quit everything he was planning on and take on the task of ending the lives of these men for his own doings, and empty a rifle in each one of them.

Yet he couldn't.

Because he was a captain, and he had to make rational decisions, of course. A task that seemed impossible as his eyes were glued onto the monitor, showcasing his sergeant trying to seduce the enemy.

"Is it working?" Your soft voice came through his earpiece, asking for a hint of approval as you found yourself away from the men for a second.

"It is," Ghost responded before Price could. "Good work, Taylor. Continue."

Price shifted his gaze towards the masked man, his gaze narrowing just slightly. It was as if the word 'continue' triggered something in Price, making him hate his lieutenant for just a split second.

Price clenched his jaw tighter, trying to suppress the surge of anger coursing through him. He couldn't afford to let his emotions cloud his judgment, not now, not ever. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on the mission, and not on the way their eyes lingered on your skin.

Or the way they kept trying to inch closer to your body.

Or to the way their filthy mouths curled up into a smirk at the sight of you.

Fuck.

"Ghost, keep monitoring their movements," Price ordered, his voice steady despite the rage inside of him. "Taylor, maintain your cover and gather as much intel as you can."

He glanced back at the monitor, watching as you expertly played your part, your demeanor cool and composed despite the dangerous situation you were in. Price couldn't deny the admiration he felt for your skill and determination, but it only served to fuel his resolve to ensure her safety.

Because that's why he felt this way. He cared for his sergeant's safety. Nothing more.

As the seconds ticked by, Price remained vigilant, his senses heightened as he scanned the screens for any signs of trouble.

Minutes turned into hours, and with each second that had passed, Price felt himself growing more and more irritated. Even now, as you stand in his office, he hasn't quite shaken off the feeling of anger from the way these men had looked at you.

"Come on Captain, lose the frown," You joke, sitting down in the single chair opposite of his desk. "We got what we needed. You should be celebrating."

"I am celebrating."

"You press your lips together in disapproval. 'Liar. That's not what your celebrating face looks like,' you say, setting a few bottles on the desk. 'Drink with me. To celebrate.'

The request isn't out of the ordinary. A drink to celebrate is something the team does often, but this time, the rest of the team isn't around. Still, Price agrees.

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