bigamy or mess up her taxes any. Maybe she’d even polish his halo for him. With her tongue.
Or she just might kill him. He’d give it even odds at the moment. She leaned toward him, not intimidated in the slightest.
She’d slicked her dark, glossy hair back from her face in a severe style that made her look all cheekbones. With less than two feet between them, he could smell her perfume, which was another first for him. She didn’t wear that stuff in the field, and apparently he’d been missing out. She smelled like warmth and fruit and some kind of flower thing. Damned if he knew what it was, but he liked it. He should get a bottle and spray the boys in the foxhole next time he had to camp out for a week in the jungle.
She made a give-it-up gesture. “Some time this century, Brandon.”
Given their eager audience—he’d counted ten agents and four secretaries plus a maintenance guy messing with a thermostat—he kicked the door shut with his booted foot. Probably not what she’d intended, but she should know by now that she needed to be specific with him.
“How do you want me?” he drawled, keeping his eyes on her. Her lips tightened. She was wearing lipstick in a nice nude shade. No flashy come-do-me red for her in the office. Did the agents she worked with know the calm ice-princess facade was a front? She had a wild child hiding underneath that gorgeous face, and she was a demon in the field. She would have made an excellent SEAL.
“Sit,” she snapped, as if he was some kind of trained poodle. News flash. He only pretended to be civilized. If she didn’t play nice, he didn’t have to, either. He definitely wasn’t planting his ass in a chair while she stood over him in the power position.
Time to take charge.
“If I sit like a good boy, will you park that pretty ass of yours on my lap?”
* * *
ASHLEY’S BRAIN SPLUTTERED to an outraged halt, because who said sexist stuff like that these days? Naturally, Levi used her momentary distraction to circle the desk between them. She hesitated a moment too long, distracted by the sexy SEAL prowling toward her. Dark hair buzzed short with military precision, brown eyes that crinkled at the corner when he laughed, and just the hint of a dimple in his right cheek...damn it. She’d seen him in action and the man was quick. He also fought dirty, and any words that came out of his mouth were just one more weapon. She should have remembered that.
He pulled her toward him until her thighs were plastered against him, his muscular, denim-covered leg thrusting between hers as he danced her backward smoothly. Her back hit the wall, her heart simultaneously taking a nosedive toward her stomach. Darn it. Being close to Levi was too much like riding a roller coaster.
A sexy, dangerous roller coaster with bad manners.
His big body radiated heat and carefully leashed power as he boxed her in, and she didn’t know if she should take a moment to admire the sheer masculine ballsiness of the move—or knee him in the nuts on principle. She hadn’t known he was in town, although it wasn’t as though they shared social plans. They’d worked in the field together. Sometimes they’d killed together. None of which was drop-in-and-have-a-beer material.
His mouth shifted, brushing her ear. “Hello again, Mrs. Brandon.”
How much trouble would she get in if she pulled her gun in the office? Because the thought of plugging Levi’s fine ass with a bullet got more and more appealing by the moment.
“That joke got old about the twentieth time you trotted it out on Fantasy Island after we did the beach thing. Do I look like a missus? Maybe I missed the part where you tattooed property of on my ass.”
She bent her knees, ducked under his arm and pushed him hard against the wall. He let her slam him into the paint job and that pissed her off even more. Life was one big joke to Levi Brandon and she hated it when he played with her.
“It’s not a joke, babe. We’re married.”
“Uh-huh. Tell that one to the judge and back the hell off.” That was another thing about Levi—he could deliver a joke with a perfectly straight face.
“You need to listen to me on this one.” He flipped her around smoothly, face to the wall, wrists pinned over her head. Since the man had to have almost a hundred pounds on her, she was at a definite disadvantage in close quarters.
“Scared?” Sure, it wasn’t nice to taunt him, but around him her inner five-year-old came out to play.
“Not exactly,” he said cheerfully. “But someone’s going to end up in the ER if we keep showing each other our moves. Plus kink’s not my thing. I didn’t come here to hurt you.”
“So you’re manhandling me to be nice?” She didn’t bother hiding the disbelief in her voice. Truth was, Levi did what he wanted and he didn’t worry about the consequences. It must be nice. She was also fairly certain he had a much broader acquaintance with kink than she did.
In answer, he kicked her legs wider, which was a challenge given the lack of give in her skirt. Heat hit her hard between her thighs, her panties dampening as she felt him against her back. Chemical reaction. That was all. Sure, it sucked that she got horny around Levi, but he came in a pretty package and looking at him had never been a hardship. It was when she had to listen to him that things went to hell.
It took him less than fifteen seconds to find the gun tucked in the small of her back. He slipped it out of her waistband and set it on her desk. “Sexy.”
“Back off and tell me why you’re here.” Had the Marcos brothers managed to shake the charges against them? If they’d been assigned a third mission together, surely the special agent in charge would have notified her.
“You think I need a reason to be here? Maybe I had a couple of weeks of leave coming to me and just missed your lovely face.” He pressed harder against her, tucking his dick against her butt as if he had some kind of right to do so. Clearly, it had been too long since she’d had sex—working undercover with SEAL teams had definitely put a crimp in her social life—because she couldn’t even work up much outrage at his erection. He was huge, he was turned on and apparently her sexual drought had lasted long enough that she was willing to cut him some slack. Sucker her brain crowed at her libido.
“Well, I’m not helping you with that.” She wriggled her butt against his front just to make her point and he hissed.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Dick’s got a mind of its own and it really, really likes your skirt.”
And that was the problem with Levi. The outside package was hot—hello, she’d never met an ugly SEAL—but then he opened his mouth. Too bad she couldn’t duct tape his lips shut and just admire the view.
“Could you be more offensive? Is this your idea of a joke?” Because she didn’t feel like laughing and she was this close to kneeing him in the balls the next chance she got.
“You hear a punch line coming out of my mouth?”
“You want to know how many practical jokes I’ve been the butt of over the years? When you’re the only female on a team, you hear it all.”
He whistled. “You work with some nasty people, Dixon.”
She drove her head back, pulling free of his hold and swinging her elbow toward his
