Jin's jaw clenched as Veyra laid out the mission— border breach, rogue espers, shadow incursions.
But his focus kept slipping.
Every time he glanced up, Ming Ji was already looking at him.
Not even subtle about it— just watching him with half-lidded eyes and that *damn* smirk like he knew exactly what Jin was thinking.
And worst of all?
He *was.*
A flicker of memory— a hand in his hair, a whisper against his skin: *"You're mine."*
Jin swallowed hard.
*Damn him.*
They broke into mission groups, and of course— because the goddamn universe had it *out* for him—
Ming Ji ended up on his team.
He fell into step effortlessly beside Jin, his shoulder bumping against his and his gaze *smoldering.*
"You're quiet," he murmured, leaning closer than necessary as they made their way toward the breach.
Jin gritted his teeth.* "I'm focusing."
Ming Ji chuckled, the sound low and rough.* "You sure? You were much more verbal last night."
Heat spread through Jin's belly, his irritation mixing with... *something else.*
But he kept his shoulders straight, eyes forward. He didn't look at him as they walked. He did *not* notice how good he looked in his gear.
He didn't think about all the things those big hands were capable of.
He *did not.*
"Shut up."
The corner of Ming Ji's lips tugged up in a half-smile.
The bastard knew *exactly* what he was doing, and he was enjoying it too much.
Jin wanted to punch him.
He also wanted to pin him against the closest wall and kiss the hell out of him, but that was *not* going to happen.
"You're cute when you're mad, you know," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower.* "Those little scowls..."
Heat flushed down his neck to the tips of his ears.
"I am *not* cute—"
He didn't get to finish his response, his protest cut off as Ming Ji suddenly caught his wrist.
He yanked him backward into a shadowed corner, backing him up against the stone and pinning him there.
And then there was nowhere to look but *up.*
Jin's breath hitched as he found himself staring at the smug, infuriating, *infuriatingly* attractive face above him.
Those sharp silver eyes were focused entirely on him, and it made his breathing go shallow.
He should snap at him. *Should* push him away.
But he found his hands gripping Ming Ji's jacket, holding on *tight.*
Damn him for being so *tall.*
Damn him for being so strong.
Damn all the *memories* rushing through his head like lightning.
Ming Ji's gaze flickered to his lips.
"You're thinking too loudly," he muttered.
And damn him for being able to *tell* what he was thinking.
Jin's breath caught as Ming Ji's gaze returned to his eyes. He leaned closer, his body pressing against his in a way that should *not* leave him so breathless.
He still had him pinned there, and the shadows around them seemed to shift and close in, making the moment intimate, almost *too* private.
"I'm focused."
His protest sounded like a goddamn *lie* to his own ears.
Ming Ji's lip curled into that half-smile again, his voice *still* too damn sexy when it lowered like that.
"Liar."
Jin's heart clenched, heat pooling in his belly.
But he didn't falter.
He kept his chin raised, meeting his gaze.
He *wasn't* going to let him know the effect he had on him.
...Even if his breath was still shaky.
"Are you going to let me go anytime soon?"
̶Ming Ji tilted his head, studying him like he was trying to decide whether to tease him more or kiss him senseless.
Then, slowly— deliberately— he leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of Jin's ear.
"*No,*" he whispered,* voice rough as gravel.* "Not even a little."
And then he pulled back just enough to catch the flush spreading across Jin's face.
"But fine. For now."
He stepped away— but not before sliding one thumb over Jin's bottom lip, slow and deliberate.* "Save that look for later."
Jin's breath hitched as the warmth of Ming Ji's thumb lingered.
Damn it.
*Damn him.*
He wanted to say something sharp—something that would wipe that smug look off his face. But nothing came out. Not when his skin was still buzzing from the touch, not when his body remembered *exactly* what those hands could do.
Instead, he just stood there, jaw tight, pulse racing.
And Ming Ji?
He turned with a quiet chuckle,* tossing over his shoulder,* "Try to keep up."
Jin clenched his jaw and pushed off the wall, forcing his legs to move.
He fell into step beside him, trying to ignore the way his pulse still raced.
But it was damn near impossible when Ming Ji kept shooting him little looks out of the corner of his eye, gaze skimming over him like he was already picturing getting him out of that gear later.
Jin wanted to snap at him— to tell him to quit looking at him like that—
*Damnit.*
But the words stuck in his throat.
Because a part of him— the part that couldn't forget the memory of Ming Ji's hands, his breath, his *moans*— wanted him to keep looking.
He clenched his jaw tighter and picked up the pace, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
The mission briefing loomed ahead, but Jin could still feel the weight of Ming Ji's gaze like a brand.
He walked faster, hoping the others wouldn't notice how flustered he was.
But as they reached the edge of the breach zone— where dark energy pulsed like a heartbeat in the air— Ming Ji fell back just enough to murmur:
"Relax, sweetheart."
Jin's breath caught.
"Tonight… I'll make you *unravel* again."
To be continued...
Please read read if you are very kind, kindly please support me, because it is very hard for me to write. I only sleep 3 hours per day and it is so frustrating for me. I might take days to write this novel but you will use only some few minutes to read read this, that's why I need your support in this. Thank you.