Mesmerized by the Alien Mercenary
most part, we do—”“Your mom’s a blond, isn’t she?”
“Yes. My hair is a bit more green than most. Makes me… unique.”
“Ah, is that the only thing about you that’s unique?” I ask.
Am I flirting? Maybe. I’ve had plenty of guys hit on me before, even unwitting targets, but I’m not usually the flirting type. I’ve had a few relationships, but nothing too serious. No one gets me, really gets me, and I would have to be over the moons for someone in order for me to want them to move in with me.
“I haven’t been here on Earth long enough to know what makes me unique compared to Earthlings, but I have to say that I’m certainly unique among the Kurians.”
“Just because of your hair?”
“Because I’m willing to do whatever I want.” He leans toward me, and I catch a whiff of his scent—woodsy and cinnamon and something else that I can’t quite place.
“And the others aren’t?”
“They are, but I might be willing to go to more extremes.”
I lift my eyebrows. “What extremes?”
His grin returns, but it’s more playful this time, and his eyes—a bright blue with a hint of neon—light up. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get the house I want.”
“You want a house? On Earth?”
“I do.” He nods.
“And let me guess, these extreme measures, it’s how you’re going to pay for your house.”
“Damn straight.” He winks at me.
“And just what extreme measures do you take?” I cross my arms, unconsciously making my breasts lift a bit despite my sports bra.
His gaze drifts downward but only for a second. I’ll give him that.
“I’m a mercenary,” he says.
“Oh, ho! Are you now?” I beam.
“What’s with the smile?” he asks suspiciously.
“Oh, nothing.” I brush my black hair back over my shoulder and start walking again.
He easily keeps pace me with. “No, that smile isn’t a just because smile. That’s a smile that means I have a secret.”
“That so?” I peer at him out of the corner of my eye.
“That so.” He nods.
I stop walking and face him. “I’m a bounty hunter.”
His eyebrows lift, and he takes in my appearance, giving me a slow once-over. It’s not him checking me out sexually. It’s him assessing me as a fighter, and my hand clenches and unclenches.
“You know how to handle yourself?” he asks.
His tone’s changed. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and I don’t know if he thinks I’m pulling his leg or not.
“I think I might,” I murmur. “Might be a good bounty hunter. I don’t know. Maybe you should hope no one ever takes a bounty on you.”
“You think you could take me down?” he asks.
I just give him that same beam as before.
He snorts.
What an ass.
But I just keep on smiling. I tap his chin and then turn around, so my back is to him. I'm not usually one for pulling crap like this, but I rub my ass against him, and then I'm moving lightning quick, grabbing his right arm, bringing it across me like a seatbelt. I shove a foot between his as my other arm goes around his waist. I bend over, flipping him over my head, and he lands flat on his back hard.
The heavier they are, the harder they fall.
But he reacts immediately, starting to get up, but I’m not done with him yet. I go into side mount, my knee near his hip and ear, my chest to his chest, pressing down as much as I can with my body weight, an arm under his neck, the other trapping his arm, my hands clasped together in a gable grip.
He tilts to one side, and I bring my arm trapping his arm over to lean against his throat, but he’s a bit too strong for me. Even when I shift my weight to be entirely on his chest, he’s able to sit up.
Not willing to admit defeat, I slide around to take his back, hooking my heels in hard to his upper thighs. My one arm comes across his chest to act as a seat belt, and then I bring it up around his neck. My other arm goes behind his head to try to finish the choke, but he leans forward, rolling out, and before I can react, I’m the one flat on my back, staring up at him.
We're both breathing heavily now, and I struggle to try to get my legs to wrap around his waist, to continue the grappling bout.
“You want to keep going?” he murmurs huskily.
I struggle beneath him a bit more. “If we sparred—”
“You want to spar me?” He brings his face down. He’s inches from me. All I have to do is lift my head a tiny bit, and we would be kissing.
“You ready? I’m game. I’ll win.”
“You lost grappling.”
“Barely.”
“I wouldn’t say barely,” he protests as he stands.
I accept his offered hand and stand beside him. “I hope your ego isn’t too bruised. You’re what? Six six?”
“Six seven,” he corrects.
“Oh, yes, that inch is so important.” I burst out laughing. “Dude, you have almost twenty inches on me.”
His grin is wicked, and I swear I’m a mind reader because I just know he’s thinking about certain inches and wanting them in me.
“I have to admit that you do know your moves. You’re strong.”
“Despite being a woman?”
“I was going to say that you know how to use your side. I’m stronger, but you’re faster, and your movements are fluid. You’re constantly thinking ahead, and you’re a decent fighter. I would love to spar with you one day, but, ah, no knees.”
“No knees? Come on. That’s not sparring then!”
“No knees,” he insists.
“To your stomach.”
“With you so short, you’ll miss my stomach and hit me elsewhere.”
I bring my knee up. I’m short, but I can bring my knee up high, almost to my chin.
“You’re flexible,” he murmurs.
“Like a pretzel. Get yourself a cup if you’re so worried about your jewels.”
“A… groin cup.”
“Bingo.” I wave. “See you around, Tox.”
I stroll away, listening to see if he follows. He doesn’t, and I’m not