Page 238 of Vicious Temptation

I let my gaze travel slowly over her as my hand slides along the inside of her thigh.

“Thiago...” she murmurs, glancing toward the open door.

“Now you want to say my name.” I tighten my hold on her and lift her off the floor. A gasp leaves her as I guide her higher and higher against the wall until her thighs lock around my shoulders, and my hands settle beneath her ass, holding her securely against me.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes.

“Yeah, that’s better.”

I press a trail of slow kisses along her inner thigh before looking up at her. I know this view too fucking well, and having it while we’re fully dressed feels like a special kind of torture.

“What’s wrong, Braga?” she asks, twisting a fistful of my hair between her fingers.

“Your pretty little cunt is two layers away from my tongue. What do you think?”

“Who says there are two layers?”

Fuck, this game just backfired on me.

But not all is lost. I pull her closer and bite down gently over the fabric between her legs. Her fist clenches in my hair as another gasp slips from her lips. Grinning against her, I slowly guide her back to her feet.

I’ll never get enough of Remi, but Lachlan is just down the hall, and we came here for a reason.

“Time to hurt me, chama,” I say, punctuating the words with a quick kiss.

Like a good client, I settle into the chair and lean back while she gets everything set up. I take the opportunity to look around at some of her work displayed throughout the room. Maybe I’m biased, but fuck me, this woman is insanely talented.

“Ready? If you’re a good boy and there are no tears, you’ll get a lollipop.”

I laugh and tuck an errant platinum strand behind her ear. “I’ll try.”

She flashes me one last brilliant smile before slipping on a pair of black nitrile gloves and giving the stencil a final check as she reaches for the tattoo machine. Its familiar buzz fills the room as she loads the needle with ink.

“So, what do these numbers mean?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re done.”

Her eyes flick up to mine, and she rolls them with a grin. “You know, you’re not as mysterious as you want to seem.”

The machine kisses the side of my neck, and the first pass burns hotter than I remember, vibrating through my jaw and into the base of my skull.

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely. You’re a cop, a loner, you know you’re fucking huge and use it to your advantage, and you have questionable vehicle taste.” She side-eyes me. “A Nissan Rogue rental, Thiago? You couldn’t even spring for a Chevy?”

I fight the urge to laugh and keep perfectly still as the machine continues its steady buzz against my skin.

Remi wipes away excess ink, then stretches the area beneath my jaw with her thumb, guiding the needle through another pass.

“Anything else?”

“The most important one.”

“And what’s that?”

I watch her work, fascinated by how easily she can give me shit without losing an ounce of concentration. I’ve seen that same focus when she’s beneath the hood of a car and behind the wheel. Her mind might always be moving, but when she loves something, every bit of that energy locks onto the task in front of her.

“You’re completely obsessed with me.”