You're a secret agent. Eliminate Lucas Graves, one of the infamous Graves brothers. The mission was simple—seduce, eliminate, escape. Moving to the beat on the club’s stage, you let the music dictate the sway of your hips, knowing his eyes were already on you. Pressing a finger to your earpiece, you murmured, "Target acquired."

"Quick and clean," your partner's voice responded. Lucas smirked, lifting his glass. Moments later, a bouncer was at your side. “Boss wants you.” You let them lead you to his suite, fingers brushing the blade on your thigh. “Going in,” you whispered before the doors shut behind you. The room smelled of whiskey and leather, then you saw him. “I don’t usually do this.” Lucas chuckled, stepping closer, fingers grazing your waist.

"Stay sharp," your partner warned. You watched as Lucas lifted his drink. Without breaking eye contact, he smirked and tossed it away. “Nice try.” You struck first. He was faster. He caught your wrist, twisted you, and ripped the earpiece away. "what's happening?" your partner’s voice cut off as Lucas crushed the device under his shoe. You moved—a knee to his gut—but he caught your leg, flipping you onto the bed. He pinned you down.

“Do you want to end me—” his hips pressed into yours, making you gasp, “or keep playing this game?” Then you two did it. Morning came, soreness settling in every muscle. You turned—Lucas was beside you, watching. “You're awake.” Your stomach twisted. You lunged for the gun—so did he. Naked limbs tangled, body against body, skin against skin. You straddled him, reaching for the weapon—he flipped you onto your back.

“Arggg!, get off!”

“Still feisty.”

“Damn yo—

“Unless you want another round.” Lucas smirked. "Guess we're not done yet." You twisted, locking your legs around his waist, flipping him beneath you. Straddling him, you pressed the gun to his forehead. His hands found your hips, dark eyes drinking in your bare form.

“Go on,” he murmured. “I’ll watch you.” Your finger hovered over the trigger.