AGENT PROVOCATEUR

Troy lunged low and fast. With a growl, Mercury sidestepped the sneaky attack by walking directly into his reach, right under his outstretched arm. She delivered a quick one-two-three jab in his ribs with her middle knuckle protruding, rewarded by a grunt of pain. Then still spinning, she let her right foot arc high—he was a tall man—and aimed for the back of his head. Her heel never landed. Surprisingly fast, he pivoted, caught her heel. For a split second, she could only stare into his dark eyes, note the menace there, before he flipped her. Hard. Despite some serious gymnastics and midair twisting, Mercury landed on her back and the next second received at least two hundred pounds of muscles.
She oomphed when Troy landed a punch in the solar plexus. Pure instincts triggered the knee-jerk. He barely seemed to feel her kneecap connecting with his crotch. A long hand wrapped around her throat, squeezed.
“You play a dirty trick on me again,” he pushed through his teeth. “And I might get pissed off enough to kick your ass for real. Got it?”
Disheveled dark blond hair fell in a veil around his head, created a barrier that only their two faces occupied. In her right eye, his angular face took on a demonic shade of vermillion and amber. Like flames. After he moistened them, his lips glistened. Rendered gold to her heat-sensing vision. She’d never seen anyone with such mesmerizing heat patterns. Like a painting from a master, but with only reds and gold as palette.
“Like to beat up on women, do you?” she breathed. Stubbornly stared into his eyes.
“No, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”
The fricative revealed perfect teeth that gleamed like polished alabaster. She couldn’t stop looking at his mouth, that wicked and dirty thing.
He relinquished her throat to grab her other hand and force it above her head. She resisted for as long and as hard as she could. Mercury relished the obvious effort it took him to plant her knuckles into the granular tar.
Troy’s lips quivered, curved into a lascivious grin. “I bet you like to make a guy work for it.”
“If it’s easy, it can’t be good.”
“Ha! Isn’t that something, we finally agree.” He lowered his face enough that only heat patterns filled her vision.
Sexy.
Without warning he pressed his mouth to hers. Not in a proprietary manner. More like a test. Mercury pushed up with her chin to meet him halfway. Remnants of a metallic tang on his tongue fired her sensory system.
She usually kissed with her eyes closed because her right messed everything up that close. Not this time. Plus, she wanted to watch his reaction. She shouldn’t feel the need, but she did and that was that.
Two hard lumps dug against her hipbones. His guns. A third in the middle pressed against her mons. His rocket.
She tried freeing her hand again but couldn’t. While she twisted, her pelvis rose to push against his, and effectively ratcheted up her arousal at the same time. He sucked the moan from her mouth before pulling away.
“Nice rocket you have there,” she taunted, rolling her hips.
A wicked sparkle lit his dark eyes from within. “You call dicks ‘rockets’?”
“Why not? You call them ‘dicks’. How’s that sexy? At least ‘rocket’ makes for a nice visual.”
“Rocket,” he repeated with a shake of head.
Mercury craned her neck so she could plant her mouth against his. He didn’t seem to mind and returned the favor. In turns tender and demanding, his mouth covered hers, travelled side to side. Deepening the kiss, his tongue...