Chapter 34 – Remi
Thirty-Four
Remi
“You missed your floor.”
The bag of food is tucked against Thiago’s side as he looks at me with a furrowed brow, then watches the elevator pass my level and continue toward an unmarked floor.
Our dinner is probably cold as hell by now, but I can’t bring myself to care.
As much as it annoys me to admit it, I’m enjoying his company, and the thought of ending the night by going back to my condo alone sounds depressing as fuck.
So, instead of pressing the button for my floor, I bring him up to the terrace.
It’s the one place in this building that’s entirely mine, where the noise in my head quiets enough for me to breathe.
Bringing Thiago up here wasn’t part of the plan, but apparently neither was most of tonight.
“I know where I’m going, Braga.”
“Of course you do.”
The metal doors slide open, and cool night air sweeps through my hair as I step onto the terrace. No one else in the building has access to this floor, though many have asked over the years. I’ve never brought anyone up here except family, and that thought almost makes me reconsider what I’m doing.
Thiago steps out behind me, and the elevator doors slide shut at his back.
“Wow.” He looks out over the terrace, then spots the water. “A pool? Up here?”
I shrug. “I need somewhere to get my laps in, especially now that I’m avoiding the gym.”
Thiago turns to me with a scoff. “And why is that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I walk to the railing and look out over the city. “Some creep who clearly doesn’t value his life seems incapable of taking no for an answer.”
“That’s a very serious accusation.”
“It gets worse.”
“Does it?” He steps in behind me, bracketing me against the railing as he rests his arms on either side of mine.
“He keeps showing up everywhere.”
His laughter vibrates against my back as his lips brush the side of my neck. “Sounds like a dangerous individual.”
“The worst,” I murmur, closing my eyes.
I hate how good he feels against me and how easily my body leans into his.
“This is your place?”
I nod. “Just mine. Trust fund baby, remember?”
He chuckles against my skin.
“The city looks beautiful from up here.”
“It’s perfect.” I rest my forearms against the cool metal. “You hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Everything. The world never shuts up.”
He falls silent. “You like the noise.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “I need the noise.”
Thiago doesn’t ask why or give me the same confused look I get from people when I try to explain it. He just nods, as if needing constant sound to quiet my own head makes perfect sense to him.
This place works the same way for me. The city is always moving from up here, filling the night with cars, sirens, music drifting from open windows, and hundreds of conversations I’ll never hear clearly.
There’s always something for my brain to latch onto, which keeps the rest of the chaos from getting too loud.
“Thank you,” he says, his thumb tracing over my knuckles. “For sharing this with me.”
“Your lake for my pool.”
We stop talking again, but this time, my attention doesn’t drift back to the skyline. I find myself listening to his breathing, feeling the steady warmth of his body behind me and the subtle rise and fall of his chest against my back.
Usually, having someone this close only gives my brain one more thing to process, but with Thiago, it’s different.
Most people add to the noise already crowding my head.
Somehow…he quiets it. I’m starting to understand why sitting beside him at the lake felt the way it did.
It wasn’t the water or the city’s absence.
It was him. Thiago feels like quiet, and I’m not sure when that stopped being something I wanted to avoid.
“Are you ready to eat?” I ask before I can think too hard about what this all means.
“I am.”
There’s enough hunger in those two words to send heat crawling beneath my skin, and I’m pretty damn sure the food in that bag has nothing to do with it.
“Thiago—”
My feet suddenly leave the ground, and I gasp as the city tilts behind him. He lifts me away from the railing and tucks me securely against his chest.
“Come here, fera.”
“Braga, what are you doing?” I ask as he backs toward the pool, clearly up to something.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would.”
“My panties were just starting to dry.”
His arms hold me closer as his heels reach the edge. “You won’t need them.”
My nails dig into his shoulders, and my thighs press against his hips. The smug bastard knows exactly what saying shit like that does to me.
“Thiago, wait...”
He ignores me and steps backward into the pool, taking me with him. I shriek and throw my arms around his neck as the cold hits, and we disappear beneath the surface. When we come up, I’m sputtering and laughing while Thiago looks entirely too pleased with himself.
“You asshole.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just getting that lake water off us.”
I wrap my legs around his waist and push my wet hair away from my face. “Ever heard of a shower?”
“No time and no patience.”
He carries me to the underwater ledge, sets me down, then looks around the terrace. “You said no one has access up here?”
“No one,” I murmur, licking a droplet from my lip.
He steps closer, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of my top. “Good.”
That one word sends a shiver over me that has nothing to do with the cold water.
Thiago lifts my shirt slowly, peeling the wet fabric from my skin, then pulls it over my head and tosses it onto the concrete behind me.
“You know there are easier ways to get me naked.”
“Not interested in easier.” His hands return to my waist, and I watch him slowly unbutton my shorts.
“You’re taking your time for someone with no patience.”
“I changed my mind.”
“About?”
His mouth brushes mine as he slides the wet denim down my legs. “Taking my time with you.”
I lift my hips enough to help him, and he pulls the shorts free, my thong with them, then tosses both onto the growing pile behind me. He steadies me at the waist, and I reach for him, but he catches my wrist and lowers my hand back to the ledge.
“Thiago.”
The warning in his name only earns me a grin. I try again, hooking my leg around his waist to drag him toward me, but he plants his hands on either side of me and refuses to budge.
“You enjoying this?”
“Very much.”
I slip my fingers into the waistband of his shorts and pull him closer. “Then you’re wearing too many clothes.”
He catches my wrists again. “This isn’t about me.”
“It is if I say it is.”
“Bossy.”
“You like me bossy.”
“I like you every fucking way.”
He kisses me, slow and gentle, and the teasing answer on my tongue dissolves as his hands slide around my waist, drawing me against him.
The water moves around us as he steps between my legs, and I instinctively press closer.
“Are you cold?” he murmurs.
“Not even a little.”
His mouth glides up my neck as his hands creep between my thighs, tugging me to the edge of the ledge.
“Take your pants off, Braga. You’re naked from the waist up. I’m naked from the waist down. The math is pissing me off.”
He chuckles against my neck. “Better fix that, then.”
Stepping back, he strips, tossing his shorts onto the concrete with the rest of our clothes. As soon as he’s within reach again, I grab him and pull him back between my legs.
His mouth crashes into mine.
There’s nothing gentle or patient about him now. One hand slides into my wet hair while the other locks around my waist, his cock hard against my abdomen. I reach between us and wrap my fist around him, my thumb brushing over his piercing, then glance up to watch his face tense.
I fucking love knowing I did that, that right now, I own him and his pleasure.
“Fera, you make me crazy,” he rasps, my hair tight in his hand as he thrusts against my grip. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone, you know that?”
I’m still not fully sold on the friends with a cop part, but the benefits are making one hell of an argument for themselves.
Except fuck buddies probably don’t have heartfelt talks, spend time at a lake that means something to one of them, and end it at a place the other only shares with people they love and trust.
I shove that thought aside before it can become something I don’t want to examine. This doesn’t have to mean anything. I wanted him up here, so I brought him. I want him now, so I’m going to have him.
It’s that simple.
“Fuck me already, Thiago. We’re the worst friends with benefits. You’ve only fucked me once.”
Thiago lets out a low laugh. “Keeping count?”
“It’s not exactly difficult when the number is one.”
His hand slides beneath my ass. “Sounds like I’ve been neglecting my responsibilities.”
“You absolutely have.”
He kisses me again, and the teasing leaves his voice when I tighten my legs around his waist and rock my hips, grinding against his cock.
“Then I should probably fix that.” He grips my hip, but instead of giving me what I want, he pulls back. “But there’s still that little problem.”
“What?”
“I don’t have a condom.”
I bite my bottom lip.
Well, fuck. That’s right.
We used one last time, and going without one was never part of whatever arrangement we made. But with him naked between my legs and my body already aching for him, the idea suddenly feels a lot less terrifying than it should.
“I’m on birth control.”
He looks me directly in the eye. “You sure? I’m clean, but I want you to be sure.”
I hesitate, actually giving myself enough time to answer that question instead of letting my pussy do it for me.
I started taking the pill years ago, because apparently my uterus enjoys trying to murder me once a month, but pregnancy isn’t what makes me pause.
It’s the intimacy of it, knowing there’s nothing between us.
Fuck, I want that.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
His forehead presses to mine. “You change your mind, you tell me.”
“I will.” I rock against him again. “Now stop making me regret being responsible enough to take birth control every damn day and fuck me.”
“My girl is needy,” he rasps against my ear.
“And you’re still talking.”