Marin logged into Pre-Emptive Strike, atmospheric graphics filling her screen. She knew some of the tech team had virtual reality goggles to play with, but not that many sets had survived the attack.

She tapped the screen and activated voice control. Her character appeared. PrincessBadass lived up to her name. Tall, muscular, with straight, blonde hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. Marin’s character carried a carbine that glowed pink. Every time Marin saw her avatar, she smiled.

She checked the login screen. Her partner was late. She felt a little flutter and bit down on her lip. Maybe he wouldn’t show up tonight?

At that moment, a dialogue box popped up on the screen, and words started to appear. How’s my badass princess tonight?

Marin smiled. A huge, tough soldier appeared on the screen, towering over her character. He had cool, battle-scarred armor, dark hair cut super-short, and black ink down one arm. SuperSoldier3.

“Hey, you,” she said into her headset. She knew that somewhere in the Enclave, he’d be watching the words appear on his screen.

Ready to kick some ass?

Marin flexed her fingers. “Always.”

Others began to join the game, and a timer appeared, counting down to the start of the fight. Tonight, they’d be battling giant mutated animals that had broken out of the Earth’s crust to destroy the world.

Did you have a good day?

She thought of the alien cubes. “Yes, and pretty productive. You?”

Uneventful.

Three, two, one. The battle began.

Let’s move along that brick building. Watch out for anything falling off the roof.

She moved in sync with SuperSoldier3. He was always very strategic, thinking of cover and vantage points. They hugged the wall, turned a corner, and faced an incoming mob of monsters.

Marin’s fingers danced over the controls. PrincessBadass lifted her carbine, and fired. Together, they plowed into the mêlée. When her ammo ran dry, SuperSoldier3 was there, tossing her more. When a monster burrowed right up beneath him, Marin leaped in close and shoved a healing pack his way.

They fought side by side, watching each other’s back. Marin mowed down three wild beasts.

Nice work. His character spun and jammed a wicked blade into the gut of an oncoming monster.

“Not too shabby, yourself,” she said.

As she watched other players’ characters going down in the onslaught, she imagined that this was just the tiniest taste of what it actually felt like for the squads to be out there, battling the Gizzida in real life. She shivered. Even just playing the game got her heart pumping and anxiety tensing her muscles. She felt fear, stress, elation, and frustration.

How would it feel to know it was real? To know one wrong move could mean your death?

She knew she’d never be brave enough or strong enough for that.

Incoming. Twelve o’clock. SuperSoldier3 moved in close to her.

Marin saw a giant, multi-legged monster pull itself out of a hole in the ground. Then she spotted movement behind them. “We have a pack of crushers coming in from the rear.”

The crushers looked like dog-like apes, moving with a loping gait on their large front legs.

She pressed her back to SuperSoldier3’s and started firing her weapon. She grabbed several grenades off her belt and tossed them. The roar of SuperSoldier3’s carbine echoed around her.

They fought, and then ducked for cover. Tucked behind a wall, Marin popped up to fire, her shoulder pressed to SuperSoldier3’s hard one.

They’re getting too close.

“Cover me.” Marin touched the controls. PrincessBadass leaped over the wall, pulled out a huge grenade, and ran straight at the group of monsters. He laid down cover fire, and she tossed the device. Rolling out of the way, she jumped up and sprinted back toward SuperSoldier3.

The controls shook in her hands as the grenade exploded. Her character dived over the wall and landed beside him. The screen exploded with flames and rearing, screaming monsters.

That was badass.

Warmth burst in her chest. She’d never truly been badass before. The last monster tottered sideways, then collapsed.

Suddenly, words appeared on the screen. Battle winners. PrincessBadass and SuperSoldier3.

Blood pumped thickly through Marin’s veins. She flexed her stiff fingers, and grinned. Congratulatory messages from other players popped up on the screen. She threw her arms into the air. “We are the champions of the Enclave!”

Loved that move at the end.

“Thanks. I wish I was that fierce in real life.” She dropped back in her chair, staring at his words on the screen.

And, right at that moment, she wished she knew who he was.

I bet you’re fiercer than you think. I love watching you kick ass. It’s sexy as hell.

Marin felt heat in her cheeks. “My character is sexy. I designed her like that.” The opposite to real-life Marin. She knew she was smart, and not unattractive, but sexy escaped her.

Sexy has nothing to do with what you look like, Princess.

She stilled, her gaze riveted to the blinking cursor.

And it has nothing to do with your character in the game.

Her breath hitched. She knew what was coming.

The words came up on the screen. You want to have some fun again? Celebrate our win?

She watched the blinking cursor, heat curling through her belly. “Yes,” she whispered.

Good. Unbutton your trousers, Princess.

Marin couldn’t exactly remember how this had started. A week into their gaming partnership, they’d started talking. Sometimes for hours in the middle of the night. She’d told him things she’d never told a soul before.

And then one night, things had turned…hot. Sexy.

Did you open them?

Marin leaned back in her chair and flicked open the button on her shorts. “Yes.” Her voice was breathy.

Good. Now, press your hand to your belly.

In her head, she imagined his voice—deep, low, and sexy. She could almost feel the brush of his warm breath on her neck. She did as he commanded, sliding her hand down her quivering belly.

Go lower, Princess. Slide two fingers inside your panties.

God. She closed her eyes, her fingers sliding under silky cotton. She imagined a big, masculine hand moving over her belly and between her legs. In her fantasy, that arm was covered in tattoos. Strangely, they weren’t the black designs on SuperSoldier3’s character, but splashes of ink in different colors.

Are you wet?

“Yes.” Her panties were soaked. Her belly was tight, desire pooling inside her.

Touch yourself, Princess.

She stroked herself, a gasp escaping her throat. That felt so good.

I bet you’re so damn pink and pretty. How wet, Princess?

“Wet.” She knew if he was here in the room, she’d never have the courage to talk to him like this.

Touch your clit.

Marin did, pressing that swollen nub in small circles. Sensations flared outward inside her, and she cried out.

Fuck. I wish I could hear you. See you. Touch you.

Open-mouthed, she stared at the words on the screen. “Are you…touching yourself?”

Hell, yeah. My cock is in my hand and it’s so fucking hard.

Marin moaned and sank her teeth into her lip. She could imagine it.

Now, slide a finger inside yourself.

For the last two years, Marin had only had self-induced orgasms. She usually only gave her clit attention to get the job done and relieve a little stress. “I haven’t done that much lately.”

Baby, you’re killing me.

She wondered if he was groaning. Wondered what he was feeling. She slid her finger inside herself, gasping.

How’s it feel?

“Good.” But not enough. She needed more to fill the emptiness.

Tell me how you taste, Princess.

Taste? She blinked. “What?”

Lick your fingers, baby.

Was she brave enough? She trembled, feeling her orgasm looming.

Be fierce, Princess.

Seduced and feeling so hungry, Marin lifted her fingers to her lips and tentatively licked. She tasted musky, different, not unpleasant. “It’s different.”

I bet it’s the tastiest honey. Now, rub your clit some more.

Her hand moved back into her shorts, and she found her rhythm, her hips jerking.

You’re going to come for me now.

“Yes.” Her head slammed back against her chair, and she kept working her clit. She imagined a big, tough body kneeling between her legs, a dark head between her thighs.

“SuperSoldier…”

Right here. Come for me, Princess.

Her muscles tensed and sensation exploded through her. She cried out, throwing herself back against her chair. So. Good.

As the orgasm subsided, and the world around her came back into focus, she blinked. She was sprawled in her chair, a boneless mess.

Did you come, baby?

“Yes. Hard.”

I’m in agony here. You are so sexy. Never forget it.

“I’ll try,” she whispered.

Good night, Princess.

“Night, SuperSoldier.”

She watched as the text disappeared from the screen. He’d logged off.

Marin looked up at the ceiling and worried her bottom lip. She had the skills to hack the system and see where he was in the Enclave. It would be easy to work out his identity.

But if he wanted to change their relationship, he’d ask her, right? She huffed out a breath. She wished she was brave enough to tell him that she wanted to meet him.

She sat there for a long moment, belly tight, not quite able to find the courage.

Then her computer made a soft ding. Excited, she scrambled up. Maybe he was contacting her to suggest they meet?

Marin scanned the screen and her shoulders drooped. It was a message from Noah. She quickly did up her shorts. He’d scheduled an early meeting first thing in the morning. One of the squads had seen something on a mission, and they needed Marin to take a look at the images.

With a sigh, Marin stood. Time to get ready for bed. Alone.

* * *

Ash stroked his cock with hard, firm pulls. A groan ripped out of him. In his head, he thought of sexy, smart Marin Mitchell sprawled out before him, with her skin flushed and her thighs wet.

Pressure coiled around the base of his spine. He grabbed the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier off the bed. His orgasm hit him with the strength of a grenade blast. With a groan, he spilled in the fabric bunched in his fist.

Fuck. He dropped back into his chair, and stared at his comp screen. Somewhere in the Enclave, he knew his gaming partner was still getting her breath back, her muscles relaxed and the soft folds between her legs swollen and sticky.

Ash groaned again. The pretty tech team member had no idea he was SuperSoldier3. If she did…well, Ash wasn’t sure what she’d do. He wasn’t sure when his little fascination with Marin had started. He’d caught glimpses of her here and there back at Blue Mountain Base, and the first time he’d heard that sexy voice of hers—huskier and deeper than he’d expected—it had given him ideas. But it had all been cemented a few weeks ago, when he’d dropped off some alien cubes in the tech lab, and noticed she played the game he sometimes enjoyed.

He’d played around on Pre-Emptive Strike when he’d first arrived at the Enclave, but since he’d started playing with Marin, those hours had become some of the best for him.

Damn. A part of him wanted to storm through the Enclave corridors and find her. Push her back on her bed and put his hands on her. He wanted to touch her between her legs and hear her breathy cries as she came. He wanted to claim her and make sure she knew who she belonged to.

He blew out a long breath and stood. He tossed his shirt in his hamper, stripped off his jeans, and strode naked into his bathroom. He flicked on the shower.

As steam filled the stall, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He saw the tattoos, and a few scars, too. Each rough mark on his skin was a testament to the life he’d led. He knew exactly what he was. A fighter, a biker, a big man with tough hands who got the job done.

Once, he’d had a shot at a different life. University had been fucking amazing. Growing up in the motorcycle club had been pretty rough. But then, going to college, playing ball, studying to be a doctor…it had been a bright, shiny world he’d never known had existed. He’d dreamed of helping people, of putting people and things back together, not breaking things. He’d had pretty, cute sorority girls throwing themselves at him, he’d been acing his classes. The future had been wide open.

Until it had all been jerked away.

Ash shrugged off the old, hard feelings. He lifted a hand and flexed it, studying the scars that ran across his knuckles. Some had come from fights as a kid, some from being Levi’s right-hand man in the Iron Kings. More still from battling the raptors.

Whatever the reason he had them, he knew that Marin deserved more than what he could offer. It would be a disgrace to put his rough, scarred hands on her smooth skin. Hell, who was he kidding? She’d run long before he even got close.

After a quick shower, he slung a towel around his hips and stared into the mirror, again. Maybe it was time to quit gaming and torturing himself by letting himself have this tiny taste of Marin.

The comms unit beside his bed chimed. He saw he had a message and quickly listened to it. It was from Indy. Looked like they had a meeting in the Command Center in the morning.

After that, there would be another mission. There was always another mission, always more aliens to fight.

The Gizzida invasion had changed everything. The Iron Kings, the men he’d called brothers, were gone. But thankfully, he still had Levi, and now he had new brothers in his squad. The berserkers were the baddest motherfuckers he’d ever fought beside.

Ash dropped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was good at fighting. He needed to stick to what he knew. And that didn’t include pretty, sexy tech geniuses.

But something told him that despite his best efforts, his dreams were going to be full of a cute face and a mass of blonde curls.