Chapter 44 – remi
Forty-Four
remi
The warm night air rushes over us as we step onto the terrace, and the city spreads out in every direction beneath the dark sky.
I walk toward the railing, then turn to look at Thiago. The hunger in his eyes unravels me from the inside out. There’s nothing subtle about the way his gaze moves over my body, as if he’s already thinking about peeling this catsuit off, and I’m starting to wonder what the hell he’s waiting for.
“Don’t,” I warn.
He stops walking, his mouth lifting at one corner. “Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that.”
His eyes make another slow pass down my body. “Like what, exactly?”
“Like you’re having inappropriate thoughts, friend.”
He laughs as he closes the distance between us. “Fera, if you showed up in that catsuit hoping I wouldn’t have inappropriate thoughts, I’ve got some bad news for you.”
“Yeah?” I trace a black-painted fingernail along his cheek. “What if I came here banking on that very thing?”
My hand trails down the front of his shirt and over his belt before slipping between his legs.
Thiago catches my wrist before I can get very far.
I lift an eyebrow. “Problem?”
His eyes drop to my hand, and I swear it pains him to pull it away.
“Relax, Officer Braga. I don’t bite unless you’re into that.”
With his eyes on mine, his other hand slides around my throat, and his thumb brushes beneath my jaw as he brings his mouth close to my ear.
“I’m very fucking into that.” His grip firms just enough to make my pulse jump. “I’m also very fucking aware that half this building is under surveillance.”
I smile and lean into his hand. “So what I’m hearing is that the cameras are the problem.”
“The only problem.”
“Good to know.” Pushing myself onto the ledge, I pat the concrete beside me. Thiago sits, and I draw a slow breath.
Coming here tonight wasn’t a decision I made on a whim. I spent days weighing every reason this was a bad idea and every way letting him get closer could eventually hurt me. But beneath all that fear was a truth I couldn’t talk myself out of.
I wanted to come, wanted to see him.
More importantly, I was tired of pretending that whatever existed between us was still casual just because naming it scared me.
For weeks, I’ve felt us moving closer to this moment, even as I did everything I could to resist it. Tonight, I’m done fighting.
“I don’t want to be friends anymore.”
His smile sours. “Remi...”
“I can’t keep doing this.” I draw my legs beneath me and lean closer. “I don’t want to be just your friend, and I don’t want to be just your fuck buddy, Braga. There are so many reasons why we don’t work. You’re a cop, I’m me, and our lives make absolutely no fucking sense together.”
Thiago doesn’t interrupt me.
“But I’m tired of letting everything that could go wrong keep me from admitting what I want.”
As he slides his fingers into my hair, his attention remains fixed on me. “What do you want, Remi?” His voice drops. “I’ll give you anything.”
The heat in those words nearly undoes me. I choose not to hide behind a joke or change the subject. I lean closer and slowly drag my tongue along the side of his cheek, giving Catwoman and her Batman their moment.
His jaw flexes.
“I want to be yours,” I whisper against his ear.
For several seconds, neither of us moves. The city hums below us, and music drifts from the ballroom, but none of it matters while Thiago looks at me like I just handed him the fucking world.
“You’ve been mine for a while now. You just didn’t know it.”
I smile against his mouth. “How bold of you.”
His hold on my hair pulls me closer. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you want anyone else.”
I hold his stare, but no answer comes because we both know I can’t give him one.
His mouth curves slightly. “That’s what I thought.”
I crawl into his lap and straddle him.
“Let’s get out of here,” I tease, pressing a trail of kisses along his throat. “I’m more of a show-than-tell kind of girl.”
Thiago tips his head back and exhales slowly before looking at me again. “Your place or mine?”
The sprint to our cars is a blur. I barely have time to start the engine when Thiago’s name flashes on my console.
“Miss me already?” I say with a laugh.
“I missed you the moment I left your garage that night we met.”
My cheeks hurt from all the smiling.
“Liar. I almost shot you in the face twice.”
“Thank God, you didn’t. That would’ve sucked.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I say as I peel out of the garage.
My eyes find the rearview mirror and Thiago’s truck behind me. I tell myself I’m only checking because we’re driving together, but the lie holds for only two seconds. I keep looking anyway, watching him and making sure he’s still there, as if he’ll somehow disappear.
Remi, I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.
The truth is, I don’t. I don’t know what tomorrow will look like or where any of this ends, but maybe I don’t need to know yet. I’m tired of doubting everything I want and of sabotaging myself the moment something starts to matter.
I deserve this.
“Will your boss be upset when she notices you’re gone?”
“Nah. Maybe.” He laughs. “I’m not worried about her.”
The woman looks at me like I pissed in her Cheerios. There’s something about me she can’t stand, even though we’ve only met twice. It’s strange, but easy enough to shrug off. At least for now.
I’ve never exactly been a girl’s girl. Aside from Valentina, I didn’t have many female friends growing up.
Maybe one or two from childhood, but that was about it.
I always felt like the odd one out. While other girls talked about makeup, crushes, and whatever trend was making the rounds at school, I wanted to be in a garage, helping my dad take apart engines, getting my hands dirty or at a racetrack.
I never seemed to fit, and I spent years pretending their rejection didn’t bother me, even though it did more than I cared to admit. It probably explains some of the fights, the revolving door of detentions, and more than one suspension.
My poor mom had her hands full.
As much as I drove her crazy during the worst of it, she never stopped trying to understand me.
She showed up to every meeting, answered every call, and sat through every lecture from a teacher who was convinced I was a lost cause, without ever treating me like one herself.
Even when she was frustrated or didn’t understand why I did the things I did, she tried, and I’ll always love her for that.
I make another mental note to stop by to see her tomorrow, even though I’ve been telling myself the same thing for over a week and somehow keep finding reasons to put it off.
My thoughts drift back to Elena. It’s been a long time since I let anyone get under my skin, and she won’t be the exception. She just pisses me off, mostly because I’m convinced she’s got a thing for what’s mine.
The thought makes me smile.
“Thiago, catch me.”
“What?” he asks, confusion in his voice.
“Catch up to me. If you want me, race me.”
The line goes silent for a beat, and my heart sinks. He’s a cop. What exactly was I expecting? Then his laugh comes through the speakers.
“Fuck, Remi. You’re really making me do this, huh?”
A grin spreads across my face. “There he is.”
“You know this is illegal, right? My job depends on upholding the law and all that.”
“Not if we’re careful.” I glance into the rearview mirror. His headlights are still there. “Well?”
“I’m trying to decide if this is a test, a trap, or just plain crazy.”
“All of the above.”
“Of course it is.”
The city lights blur past my windows as I merge onto the next stretch of road.
“Remi, stay within the speed limit.”
“Braga.”
“Yeah, fera?”
“Shut up and catch me.”
His answer comes without hesitation. “Baby, I’ve been trying to catch you since the day we met. And when I do, you’re going to let me fuck you the way you drive. Hard and recklessly.”
A thrill races through me. “I’m not here to play hard to get, Officer Braga. I’m just here to make you earn it.”
The line goes dead.
A second later, the growl of Thiago’s engine reaches me through my open window.
I drop a gear and press the accelerator as I weave through the late-night traffic. When I glance into the rearview mirror, I see his headlights closing in.
“Shit,” I say with a laugh.
Taking the next turn harder than necessary, I shoot through an opening between two cars. His truck shouldn’t be able to keep up, especially if he’s trying to avoid getting pulled over, but when I check my mirror again, his bumper is damn near glued to mine.
The phone rings through the speakers, and I answer without taking my eyes off the road.
“What happened to upholding the law?”
“What happened to being careful?”
I laugh. “I’m being very careful. This is me granny shifting and going easy on you.”
“Is that right?”
“What would happen if your buddies in blue caught you out here street racing with Catwoman?”
I glance at him in the mirror again and catch the wide smile on his face. Even from here, there’s no missing it, and the sight only makes the ache between my thighs worse.
“You know,” he says, “most couples go out for dinner after they admit they have feelings for each other.”
“We can still get dinner.”
“At midnight?”
“I know a taco truck.”
Thiago laughs, and I can’t help joining him. I haven’t heard him laugh like this enough, and God, I like the sound. “Take the next exit,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because that’s the way to my place.”
“Or maybe you’re trying to trick me into losing.”
“Fera, the fact that you think everything is a competition is deeply concerning.”
“Sounds like something a loser would say.”
His laugh comes through the speakers again.
I signal and take the exit. The roads grow quieter as we leave the heart of the city behind, and by the time we turn onto his street, neither of us seems interested in winning anymore.
I pull into a parking spot outside his building and kill the engine. A moment later, Thiago’s truck pulls into the space beside mine. The sudden silence feels strange after the constant hum of the road, and I sit there for a second, staring through the windshield.
Then my phone lights up.
Thiago: I won.
I laugh.
Me: In what universe?
Thiago: The one where you still came home with me.
My heart stumbles.
Before I can think of a reply, a knock sounds at my window. I look up to find Thiago standing there with a cheeky grin and a dark curl hanging over the Batman mask still covering the upper half of his face.
The moment I climb out of the car, one arm circles my waist, lifting me effortlessly until my boots leave the ground, and he kisses me.
I’m smiling too much to kiss him properly at first, but neither of us seems to mind. A laugh slips out against his mouth, and he kisses me again, more slowly.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi.”
“I caught you.”
“Seems that way.” I brush the curl back from his forehead. “Now, what was it you said about fucking me like I drive?”
He groans deep in his throat. “I’m more of a show-than-tell kind of guy,” he says, throwing my own words back at me.
Laughter bubbles out of me as I tip my head back, giving him easier access to my neck. “Touché, Officer Braga.”
I’ve never been the type to swoon over muscles or brute strength, but I’d do questionable things for this man simply because he can lift me like I weigh nothing.
He carries me through the parking garage without breaking stride, his grip on me steady as his mouth glides along my neck.
Normally, being carried around like this would annoy the shit out of me.
I like my feet on the ground and my decisions in my own hands, but with Thiago, giving up a little control doesn’t feel like losing it. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop smiling.
Tonight, I told him what I wanted, raced him through the city, and ended up exactly where I chose to be. In his arms, heading upstairs, happier than I’ve let myself be in a long fucking time.
The realization hits me all at once, and another burst of laughter escapes me before I can stop it. Thiago pauses midstep and looks at me, equal parts amused and confused.
“What’s so funny?”
I lean in and kiss him softly. “You, me, this, us,” I whisper, unable to stop smiling. “Thiago, this is crazy.”
The happiness on his face fades for a second, as though he’s already bracing himself for whatever I’m about to say next.
I cup his face in both hands. “But you know what? I like crazy.”
Relief relaxes his shoulders.
“And I want this,” I say. “I want you.”
His eyes hold mine. “Me too, chama. Me too.”
I don’t know what the word means, but I don’t need a translation. The way he looks at me tells me everything I need to know.
“Thiago, take me upstairs.”
He nods once and starts walking again without making any attempt to put me down.
We cross into the lobby, and I’m sure there are people around, since it’s barely nine o’clock, but I don’t bother looking. No one else matters. And if anyone is staring at Batman carrying Catwoman through the building like she’s the only woman in the world, they might be right.