The promise of coffee was enough to make her move quickly to her room where she slipped off her unzipped jacket and draped it on the back of a chair. She dropped her rucksack as well, then pulled her hair from its tight bun. With the strain gone, she was left a little more relaxed, then pulled her boots off and shoved her feet into a pair of slippers.
As she headed out of her room, she eyed the doors, unsure of which was his, but then she came upon one that was open. When she stepped in, her eyes fell to Ghost who was standing in front of a small kitchenette on the side wall as he prepped a pot of coffee.
"Why is your room so much nicer than mine?" she asked bitterly as she shut the door.
"Because I didn't get dropped here on a whim."
"Wouldn't really call a contract a whim," she muttered, moving to the couch and sitting down.
"At least you're not in a shared bunkroom."
"Thank fuck for that," she agreed as she pulled her feet under her. "Bootcamp was the worst."
"Don't miss those communal showers," he stated roughly.
She nodded in agreement, "I had a lot of whore's baths."
"The fuck is that?"
"A sponge bath? You know, over a sink?"
"I swear the shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes..."
"You'd have a time with my nan," she chuckled. "Proper bay, she is."
He turned, leaning against the counter as the coffee machine began to spurt. "What does that even mean?"
"Newfoundland is a big place; there's town, which is St. John's, and the bay, which is basically everywhere else. People can understand townies, but baymen got accents thicker than molasses. Especially the older ones. I grew up in town, but even then, I had to drop a lot of my accent when I moved for school. Drill sergeants weren't kind to Newfies."
"Cause they're known for bein' dumb?"
"Mhm. Education isn't great, along with the fact that Newfies are habitual mumblers and tend to have their own terms that others don't understand. But Christ, I miss a good bay accent. The Irish troops around are near enough, but it's not the same."
"When was the last time you were home?"
"Was on leave three years ago."
"A while then?"
"Mhm. What about you?"
He shifted, looking over at the coffee pot. "Was on leave last year."
"You go home?"
He hesitated, "Stayed in the city."
She noted his secrecy but didn't push. They were having a normal conversation for once—something she wasn't going to fuck up even if she was a shit disturber. "I was hoping we'd be able to head home for the holidays this year, but we'll be active duty instead," she said in annoyance.
"Nothing says Christmas like snow and terrorists."
She chuckled, "We gonna do secret Santa?"
He glared at her from across the room. "No."
"Come on, it would be so fun."
"We'll likely be in the middle of nowhere; what are we going to give each other?"
"We're on base for another ten hours," she said cheekily.
"You've got more important shit to do than go shopping today."
"You've mentioned," she teased.
He rolled his eyes, pushing off the counter and walking over. He dropped onto the couch, pulling the balaclava off and running a hand through his hair.
"Why do you always wear that thing?" she asked curiously, turning toward him.
"None of your business."
She groaned, leaning her arm on the back of the couch to prop up her head. "Come on, I'm curious."
"No shit."
"Do you like being mysterious?"
He rolled his eyes.
Without an answer, she continued, "Is it a habit from covid?"
"Jesus Christ," he muttered, looking away.
"Do you have a mask kink?"
He turned back to her, brow quirked. "You really wanna go there?"
She shrugged, "I told you, I'm curious."
"Wouldn't I want someone else wearing the mask if I had a mask kink?"
She shrugged again, "Whatever gets you off."
"I don't have a mask kink."
"Okay," she agreed sarcastically with a smirk before looking over to the coffee pot which had finished brewing.
"Daisy," he warned.
"What?" she asked as she stood, going over to the machine.
"Is it your mission to annoy me?" he asked.
There were already two mugs on the counter, so she began filling one. "Is it working?"
"Yes," he agreed, voice coming from directly behind her.
Her heart skipped, but thankfully she didn't falter and spill any of the coffee before she began filling the second one. "Is it your mission to try and scare me any chance you get?"
"Is it working?" he asked lowly, his breath tickling past her ear as his hands found anchor on either side of her.
As she replaced the pot into the maker, her arm brushed his and she noticed that his sleeves were rolled up; something she'd never seen him do before. Her eyes caught the dark tattoos that covered his skin, patterns she didn't have enough time to appreciate.
She abandoned the mugs and turned, their faces nearly touching.
"Not this time," she answered finally. But the words were so quiet, she barely heard them herself.
He stared at her, those coffee-colored eyes mixed with the scent of the coffee behind her and those last hints of cigarette from before they'd boarded the chopper.
Everything about him in that moment was so fucking tempting, but when had those feelings gotten so strong she was ready to pull clothing off? When had their anger transformed into a smolder? When did she start wanting him to run his hands over her skin?
Fuck; all he was doing was watching her and she was becoming completely undone. Did he see that?
He must. He must because that same desire seemed to burn in his eyes. And she wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but his arms seemed to be getting closer, closing the space between his hands and her body.
Her eyes dropped to his lips, to the scars that cut across the top. She wondered what they would feel like.
"Eyes up," he ordered hoarsely.
She followed the command, meeting his gaze once again but catching the smirk that came to his lips.
"That's a good girl followin' orders."
His words had her weak at the knees, simultaneously hating that she'd fallen for it while also wishing he'd keep speaking.
"For someone who likes to be a brat, you sure love praise, don't you?"
Her cheeks burned at that, unable to make a sound. She was too caught up in him.
"If only you were always this good at listening."
"That would be too easy on you," she countered, finally able to get words out.
He leaned in, "We could make another deal," he said quietly as one of his hands pulled away from the counter. "You could quit bein' difficult, quit challenging me," he proposed, lifting his hand to brush her hair over her shoulder, "and I could... reward you..."
She shivered at the lightness of his touch, her heart pounding as the tips of his fingers traced her jaw.
"Or you can keep up your behaviour, and I'll find ways to punish you," he countered, letting his fingers move to the back of her neck while his thumb traced a path down to the base of her throat.
Warmth built between her legs as she listened to him. His threats. His promises.
But to her, the punishments were as sweet as the reward.
"Why can't I have both?" she asked breathily, unconsciously leaning into his hand.
He quirked a brow and leaned toward her ear, "Just be a good girl for me, Daisy. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
She couldn't help tilting her head to the side, the feeling of his breath against her skin an unfair tease. Wanting more. Welcoming more.
"That's it, sweet girl," he whispered, "give in..." His thumb brushed against the hollow of her throat as he shifted his legs, staggering his so his thigh sat between hers.
Her eyes fluttered shut, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt enough that it untucked slightly. "Don't tease..."
"Say you'll be good," he countered, letting his breath run over her skin.
"Ghost."
"Say it."
"It won't last," she breathed.
"I don't expect it to," he replied as he pressed his lips against her neck. It was light, so light, but it shot her body full of electricity. His lips returned as he tugged her forward slightly—just enough that his thigh offered a whisper of friction that had her gripping his shirt.
"Fuck, don't tease," she repeated.
His teeth bit down slightly before he sucked at the skin, sending waves of excitement through her. He kept her in place with a hand on her hip as his lips stayed connected to her skin, not letting her have any pleasure other than what he was giving her. Even as she pushed to get closer to his thigh, he denied her.
It was a tauntingly long time before he pulled away, pressing a kiss to the spot he'd been giving attention to before meeting her eyes again. His hand shifted until it was behind her neck, his thumb rubbing against what she realized was a forming bruise based on its tenderness.
"You would look good covered in my marks."
She couldn't take it any longer, her hand snaked up to his neck, pulling him down. But he stopped himself only inches from her face.
"Ghost, please."
"I like the sound of you begging."
She shifted her hips forward, letting out a shuddering breath. "This would be more fun for both of us if you stopped teasing."
His lips broke into a smile, "I'm having lots of fun," he taunted.
"Ghost," she repeated, leaning her head forward until their foreheads touched.
"Tell me what you want."
"Fucking touch me."
He tsked, "Don't swear."
"You—"
"Come on, tell me," he encouraged, moving his thigh closer.
She shifted her hips, dropping her head to the crook of his neck. "Touch me."
Too quickly, he pulled his knee back, "Be polite."
"Please," she breathed, "touch me."
"Atta girl," he whispered, leaning forward again.
It was enough that she could grind her cunt against his thigh, giving herself much anticipated pleasure.
He hummed, pressing kisses against her neck as she rocked herself against him. "You're fuckin' desperate..." he mumbled.
She didn't respond, only let out a shaky breath as she pressed against him further.
"Is that all you need? You just going to ride my thigh?" he asked roughly. When she didn't respond, he clicked his tongue twice then tangled his fingers in her hair before tugging—not hard, but enough to get her to look at him. "I asked you a question."
"You got me all worked up," she answered accusingly, "and you aren't touching me."
He smirked at her, a hand moving to press her hips into the counter before he cupped between her thighs. "This what you want?" he asked rubbing up and down.
It was like torture; going from pressure to barely a touch. The pants were far too thick to feel enough.
"More," she shook her head.
"Be polite," he repeated, fingers tightening in her hair slightly.
"Please, Ghost, touch me; no more teasing."
He nodded, his hand moving up to her belt which he unfastened easily before going for the button. She panted beneath him, eyes rolling back as his hand slipped beneath the heavy fabric to rub over her underwear. Her hips bucked into him, encouraging him to do more.
"Really are worked up for me, hey, sweet girl?"
"Yes," she agreed, not wanting him to stop.
He chuckled, fingers rubbing up over her clit before moving down to her folds. His head ducked to her neck, brushing her hair to the side to make her bare herself to him while his fingers pushed her panties aside. It elicited a breathy moan as he rubbed up and down, spreading her wetness to her clit and rubbing softly. Then, his lips were back on her skin, sucking and biting.
His fingers brushed over her entrance, teasing before pushing two fingers in, pulling yet another moan from her throat. Her head tilted back as he began curling his fingers over and over, moving them in and out slightly.
Her hands grappled, fingers meeting skin to pull him toward her. She pushed to her toes, balancing her lower back against the counter as she tried to get closer. The pants that were around her waist fell, leaving her legs bare and giving Ghost that much more room to work.
His thumb reached up, brushing against her clit, the feeling mixing obscenely with the suction on her neck.
A whimper slipped out and she pulled against the hold on her hair, tucking herself against Ghost for support. Each movement inside her had her core burning, her hips bucking to meet his fingers.
"How does it feel, Daisy?"
She nodded into his chest, eyes screwed shut.
His fingers paused, "Tell me."
"It feels good," she nodded again, hoping for him to continue, "don't stop."
He chuckled, "I want to see you come on my hand, Daisy. And every time you see me, I want you to think about it. So be good and I'll keep goin'."
She bucked against his hand. "Fuck," she panted, "yes, sir."
He began moving his fingers again and his other hand released her hair, moving to grip her neck and pull her head up to face him. He rubbed her clit faster and she quivered, eyes fluttering shut.
"Eyes open," he ordered roughly.
She knew she agreed to listen, but fuck, it felt too good, she could barely keep herself standing, let alone keep her eyes open.
But then his hand met her cheek, the impact stronger than a pat but lighter than a slap. It surprised her enough to open her eyes, but more so, it made the fire within her burn hotter.
He smirked. "You like that?" he asked, "I can tell you did, you fucking clenched around my fingers," he said, curling his fingers harder.
She caught his eye, seeing how much he was enjoying this. Watching her become a quivering mess.
"But tell me, green, yellow, or red?"
She let out a breath, unable to comprehend his words. Slowly, his fingers came to a stop, waiting for her answer.
"Come on, darlin', you have to tell me," he encouraged.
"Fuck—green. Green."
He chuckled, plunging his fingers in and out a few times.
Every movement had her whimpering, so close to reaching her limit.
"You want to come already?" he asked teasingly.
She nodded, mouth parted in pleasure as she watched him through fluttering eyelids.
"Use your words."
"I want to come," she whimpered, bucking against his hand. "Please."
"Not yet," he mumbled as he leaned in, pressing kisses along the side of her neck. His hand reached around the back of her thigh, tugging it up until her slipper came off and he wrapped her leg around him. The new position only made everything feel so much better.
His thumb continued circling her clit, leaving her whimpering nonsensically beneath him. She begged, although she wasn't sure if he could understand her.
He pressed one last kiss to her neck before lifting his head to look at her. He watched her, and she watched him back, something about her pleasure being on display for him—about showing him how good he was making her feel—that made every nerve tingle on overdrive.
It was becoming too much; she couldn't hang on—and she thought she may have told him as much.
Then he nodded. "You're being so good..." he smiled, "so come on my hand like a good fucking girl."
She was done. The words had her legs trembling, the command so mouthwatering it pushed her over the edge immediately. The vulgar moan that spilled from her lips rippled around them, wavering with pleasure until she was left with her chest heaving.
Thank God Ghost was holding her up, otherwise she'd have slipped to the ground in a euphoric puddle—not that she would mind. With her energy gone, she slumped against him, hands gripping his shirt as he pinned her against the counter slightly to keep her upright.
He pulled his fingers from her gently, tracing over her clit and chuckling when she sucked in a breath. "You look good when you come."
She hit him lightly in response, "Don't or else I'll make you do it again," she warned breathily.
"Thought you learned who was in charge here."
Her head pulled up so she could look at him, still slightly dazed, "You were eager enough to initiate, I assume you'd be more than happy to start again."
"You were the one grinding your cunt against me like a desperate slut," he said knowingly.
"That's because you were teasing me like a dick," she countered, chin raised.
"Watch your tone, otherwise you ass is going to end up bruised."
"You sure that would be a punishment?" she taunted.
"It will on the helo this evening," he responded, "it'll be fucking hell."
Her mouth shut and he smirked.
"Smart decision," he said before pulling his hand away and slapping her over the cunt lightly.
Her fingers tightened on his belt and she dropped her head to his chest at the pleasure it produced. "Come on, stop teasing," she whimpered quietly.
He chuckled darkly, letting her compose herself before squeezing her hips. "Alright?"
She had finally gotten her breathing back to normal and she nodded, raising her head.
He hummed, releasing her leg before dropping in front of her. He tapped her calf, getting her attention where she looked down and noticed he was fiddling with her pant leg. She followed his silent order, lifting her leg while he slipped the fabric up. But before he could cover her legs, he leaned forward pressing light kisses to her thighs, his eyes flicking up to her.
Her breath shook and her hand fell to his head, "Ghost," she whispered warningly.
He chuckled, tugging her pants the rest of the way up and doing them back up before fastening her belt. As he stood, his hands smacked the sides of her ass, a playful smirk on his lips. "Good as new."
"Tell that to my panties," she muttered.
His eyes flashed with hunger again, "Now you're teasin' me."
She leaned forward, hands falling to his waist lightly, "I can fix that," she offered.
"We don't have time," he shook his head.
Pushing forward, she closed the distance between their bodies, feeling the arousal pressing against her. "We have enough," she whispered.
He watched her with hooded eyes, hunger growing.
"Let me make you feel good," she whispered.
"On the couch."
The words were stiff and unnegotiable, but she was happy to move across the room, dropping to sit on her knees as he stopped in front of her.
Her hands moved to his belt immediately and when her fingers brushed against the strained fabric, he let out a soft growl. She looked up, a smirk gracing her features as she finally undid the belt, making quick work of the button and zipper.
As his pants fell, he stepped from them, kicking them aside as her eyes stayed glued to the bulge he was sporting.
Then his hand took hold of her chin, pulling her face to look up. "You tap me twice if you want out, alright?"
"Don't think I will," she smirked.
He squeezed a little, "Say it."
She was surprised by his insistence, but it also only made her desire grow. "Twice if I want out."
"Good. Now get those pretty lips around my cock."
Her cheeks burned at the order before he released her face. She looked down, hands carefully pulling down the band of his boxers until his dick sprang loose.
Of course, she'd expected the size, but fuck, she was in for it.
Her fingers wrapped around it gently, leaning forward before flattening her tongue and licking a stripe up the bottom. Ghost shuddered at the action, hand falling to the back of her head where he caressed her hair.
She took it as encouragement to keep going, and did it again before swirling her tongue around his head. Then she wrapped her lips around him, hollowing her cheeks and pushing down.
The gentle caress turned to a strong grip as he pulled her forward slightly.
She obeyed, inching to the end of the couch before bobbing her head, letting her spit coat his cock and pushing him as far back into her mouth as she could manage.
"You like being a good slut for me, huh?" he asked in amusement.
That heat sparked in her core again and she swallowed, hand stroking the base of his dick as she did her best to push further.
His fingers raked over her scalp, sending pleasurable waves through her before his hands found grip, holding the back of her head while his hips moved forward. Something about it turned her on, so she stopped moving, letting him thrust into her mouth as her hand pulled away. She flicked her eyes up, catching his gaze that showed nothing but fucking lust and need.
He thrust forward again, as if testing whether she was alright. Then again, a little bit further. His hands held her head steady as he panted, his cock sliding over her tongue and to her throat in a way that had her insides quaking.
She squirmed, pressing a hand between her thighs, but Ghost paused.
"Did I say you could touch yourself?"
A breath escaped through her nose and she furrowed her brows before whimpering as Ghost pulled himself from her lips.
"You want my cock that bad?" he teased, guiding her hand from between her legs to his hard dick. He moved her hand up and down until she was doing it herself. Then he focused back on her. "You've already come; you don't get to touch yourself."
"Please," she asked. She was still extremely turned on, and the way he was handling her—fuck, she was desperate.
"You don't get to touch yourself," he stated. "Hands behind your back."
Maybe she was worried if she argued he would stop everything. Maybe she wanted him to praise her again. Whatever the reason, she followed the order, moving her hands behind her back and clasping them.
He nodded, "Color?"
"Green."
With that, his hand rose to his dick, rubbing it before his other hand went to the back of her head. "Open your mouth, sweet girl."
She complied, parting her lips and wrapping her mouth around his tip. She ran her tongue over it, before bobbing her head forward, getting back into the rhythm. But Ghost was more impatient, pressing her head further as she swallowed. He pulled back before thrusting forward again.
Her eyes watered at the intrusion and her air was cut off, but she kept her eyes on him, watching that lustful look return to his eyes. His hips snapped forward and she couldn't help but gag.
Ghost slowed, "Tap out if you need to," he said as he pulled back.
But she followed him, leaning forward to keep him in her mouth.
He chuckled above her, "You little minx," he growled, pushing forward again.
The pressure in her throat was a lot, but her entire core was burning, wanting more. Wanting to make him feel good.
A particularly strong thrust had a tear dropping from the corner of her eye, and as he noticed it, he looked so fucking turned on. But then slowed his thrusts, "Daisy—"
But before he could pull out, her hands were grabbing his hips and keeping him still as she pulled him as far as she could go. He moaned, watching her.
God she wanted to touch herself—
"Fuck, Daisy. You are the perfect little fuck toy..."
Fuck.
She whimpered, nails digging into his skin.
"You feel bloody amazin'," he panted.
Another whimper.
Begging him.
"You want to touch yourself?" he asked, thrusting into her throat before pulling back. "You've already come and you want more?"
He thrust again, her core burning with every centimeter moved.
"You feel... so fuckin' good around my cock, Daisy. So good, takin' me like this."
She ground her thighs together, desperate as he snapped into her mouth roughly.
"Go ahead, spread your legs; touch yourself."
She immediately reached for her belt, unclasping it before tugging them open and moving her hand beneath the band to brush her clit.
His hand brushed the hair from her face before coming to a rest beside the other behind her head. And then he thrust. And then again. And again.
His movements were fast and hard, the pressure and strength causing tears to begin tracking down her cheeks—and fuck, her finger circled her clit just as erratically.
Each time he thrust forward he panted—but then the pants turned to grunts, which turned to stretching growled moans.
"You take my cock so fucking well," he breathed, holding her head down for a moment before releasing her, letting her suck in a breath before shoving himself back in, further and harder.
Her moans mixed with his as her pleasure rose, each garbled sound from his lips pushing her further. Her eyes were closing at the feeling, everything going haywire.
"Hands off," he stated, voice breathless.
She snapped her eyes open, trying to understand.
"You didn't listen and moved your hands from behind your back, so you don't get to make yourself come."
She whimpered. Another beg.
But he gave her a warning look as he slowed. "Hands off."
Reluctantly she agreed, squirming to chase any friction to push her over the edge, but nothing helped. It brought another whimper from her throat.
As if trying to please him, to make up for it in the hopes that she would get to finish, she pulled her arms behind her back, clasping them together.
He smiled at the movement, slamming into her throat again. His movements became less controlled, more ragged. They were short but hard thrusts that had tears dripping steadily.
But she blinked past them, keeping her eyes on Ghost as he abused her mouth.
"So fuckin' pretty like this," he growled, jacking into her throat. "Fuck, sweet girl, that's it—so perfect for—" he grunted loudly, thrusting into her throat and holding her there as he came down her throat. The sound of his rough moan was nothing short of erotic; she wanted it to continue, but it was already dying out, replaced by panting. His hips thrust weakly a few more times, and she bobbed her head again, helping him ride out the high.
"Atta girl," he growled, raking his fingers through her hair a few times.
When he finally pulled from her mouth, his dick was a mess of cum and spit, the same that had dripped from the corners of her mouth.
"Fuckin' hell, Daisy," he muttered, "you look good with my cum on your face."
She panted, finally sucking in some well needed air.
But she didn't expect his hand to press against her chest, pushing her onto the cushion before he tapped her legs. "Off."
She furrowed her brows, but then his fingers wrapped over the waist band of her pants, tugging them down. In realization, she moved her legs from beneath her, letting him tug her pants off before he kneeled in front of the couch.
"Color?"
"Green," she panted voice shaking before his fingers found her folds again, running them up and down before shoving two fingers inside her.
Her head dropped to the back of the couch, body overly sensitive from their activity. She moaned in pleasure, bucking her hips against him before she went rigid at the feeling of his tongue over her clit.
He circled and sucked it, and her hand dropped to his head, twisting his locks between her fingers.
"Please don't stop, Ghost."
He hummed against her, pulling his mouth back, "So polite now, aren't you?"
What was meant to be a sound of agreement turned into a throaty moan as his mouth returned between her legs. He curled and pumped his fingers, everything feeling like fire as he pulled her closer to the edge.
"Ghost—"
He sucked harder, his free hand wrapping around her thigh and squeezing roughly.
The mixture of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, and as he thrust into her hard, she felt herself clench around his fingers as she came again, arching to shove her cunt against him.
He slowed his fingers but his tongue continued, extending the pleasure considerably as she moaned out his name again.
Eventually he pulled his mouth away pressing kisses to the inside of her thigh before he sucked at her skin, adding to the bruises already on her neck.
"You learned to listen real quickly, hey?"
She pushed herself up to sit, meeting Ghost's eyes as her hands raked through his hair. "Don't expect me to behave past those doors," she whispered.
"We'll see."
She didn't answer. It was a quiet moment, the sun peeking through the blinds behind her, the frustratingly idiotic man in front of her—who just gave her two mind blowing orgasms.
"You called me sir," he said, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
"What?"
"Earlier, you called me sir. You have an authority kink?"
She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her, "Must've slipped."
He hummed, obviously not believing her.
She pushed him lightly, reaching beside him to pull her pants nearer as she swung her leg over and tugged them and her underwear past her ankles. Ghost did the same, grabbing his own pants and pulling them on until everything that was inappropriate was covered.
Until he grabbed a tissue from the table and stepped closer. His fingers took hold of her chin and he wiped away the mess of spit and cum that she'd forgotten was there.
"You really do look good like that," he commented quietly.
She huffed in amusement, grabbing the tissue from him and wiping her own cum from his face. "And you look good between my thighs."
"There's no better place than between a woman's legs."
"Women are great," she agreed with a chuckle. "Now, do I look presentable enough to make the walk of shame?" she asked, taking a step back and turning in a circle.
"Like a true soldier," he muttered, eyes watching her lazily.
"I'm sure you're going to have questions from your neighbors."
"With the way you were moanin' my name? Of course I will."
"They'll wonder what girl you managed to score," she continued with a smirk.
"I'll be sure to tell them its someone they don't know... Someone who took orders so fucking well," he breathed.
She rolled her eyes, "You gonna let me live that down?"
"Not when I know how to make you submit."
"I didn't submit, I knew how to get what I wanted," she countered.
"Really? Then why were you so surprised when I told you to take your pants off?" he asked knowingly. "You didn't know I was going to let you come again."
"You didn't let me," she said pointedly, although she knew he was right.
"Yes, I did. No point arguin', sweet girl. You melted in my hand."
"And yet I got what I wanted in the end," she continued.
His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, "That's because your moans are fucking addicting."
"Lucky for me," she mumbled, eyes flicking between his before going down to his lips, tracing that scar again. She knew they couldn't get into anything again. "I'll see you later?"
He nodded, hand dropping to slap her ass before releasing her. "Gonna be fuckin' hard all day, thanks to you."
"Good luck not showin'" she teased before stepping away. "Later, Ghost," she called as she pulled open the door, eyes scanning the hall.
"Bye, Daisy."