AN OPPOSITE ATTRACTION TO MY COUGAR COMMANDER: A FORBIDDEN MILITARY, SINGLE MOM, AGE GAP ROMANCE

Major Derek Thatcher spent his life mastering the art of control. Battlefields weren’t won with brute force or instinct. But won before the first shot. Strategy. Precision. The ability to dismantle chaos, that was his weapon. At 25, he was the youngest strategist ever appointed to Special Forces. Men twice his age followed his orders without question. He didn’t predict the enemy’s next move. He dictated it.
Thatcher’s a prodigy. A child genius who had been solving complex tactical equations before most kids had mastered basic algebra. By 16, he was dismantling military simulations. By 18, he was consulting on real-world operations, his mind a weapon. Others fought on instinct, he saw patterns, probabilities, invisible threads tied to inevitable consequence. He was playing chess while others played checkers.
When he met her gaze, he felt it—the crackling electricity, a challenge unspoken but undeniable. He could outmaneuver any enemy. But could he outmaneuver her?

She’s so Fuckin Hot!

Lieutenant Colonel Catalina Barrett wasn’t just a soldier. She was a storm. Unrelenting. Calculated. And utterly untouchable. Thatcher had read her file, but the ink on paper hadn’t prepared him for the woman standing across from him now—arms folded, stance unshaken, and a fire in her eyes that threatened to incinerate anything in her path.
Barrett, a legend, an enigma. At 34, she carved her name into history. Walked through warzones untouched, led soldiers through fire. Left ashes in her wake. She was made of molten steel, control, completely lethal. Soldiers worshipped her. She had an instinct for battle. She was a single mother.

“They assigned me a strategist . Not on my watch.”

Higher-ups decided she needed a numbers man, a desk jockey who calculated probabilities instead of field experienced.

She took one look. Tall. Lean. Too young. So, Fucking Hot!