“You’re right,” he says, shifting his weight but maintaining his position over me. “I make problems disappear. But I also know when something needs to stay visible.”
My laugh comes out harsh, bitter. “And you expect me to believe this is one of those times? That you’ll help expose the very people who pay your bills?”
One of his hands moves from the headboard to brush a strand of hair from my face. The gentle touch sends unwanted shivers down my spine. “I expect you to understand that not everything is black and white, Eve. Sometimes, the best way to destroy something is from the inside.”
I turn my face away from his touch, but the warmth of his fingers lingers on my skin. “Pretty words from a man who has me handcuffed to his bed.”
“A precaution,” he murmurs, “because you’ve proven you can’t be trusted to stay put.”
“Rich, coming from you.” I test the handcuff again, metal biting into my wrist. The USB drive feels like it’s burning a hole in my conscience, safely hidden where he’ll never find it.“So what’s your play here, Remy? Keep me locked up until Stockholm syndrome kicks in?”
His other hand leaves the headboard, and suddenly, he’s cupping my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. The intensity in his dark eyes steals my breath. “My play is keeping you alive long enough to finish what you started. But we do it my way.”
The implied possession in those words sends a shiver. I hate how my body responds to him, how easily he breaks through my defenses. Eight years and nothing’s changed—he still affects me like no one else can.
The atmosphere shifts, charging with electricity as Remy leans closer. His breath fans across my lips, and my heart thunders against my ribs. I yank at the handcuff again, testing its hold, but this time, the motion draws his gaze. His eyes drag down my restrained wrist, then trail slowly down my body with unmistakable heat that sets my skin on fire.
“Tell me to stop,” he challenges, his voice rough. His hand leaves the headboard, fingers tracing my collarbone with deliberate slowness. The touch ignites something dangerous between us—a volatile mix of trust warring with suspicion, desire clashing against fear, and power tangled with surrender.
I meet his gaze, refusing to back down even as desire coils tight in my stomach. “Would you?” The words come out as barely more than a whisper, betraying how affected I am by his proximity.
His dark laugh holds no humor, the sound vibrating through me as he closes the final distance between us. “No,” he admits, his lips brushing mine as he speaks, “but I want you to know this is your choice.”
When he kisses me, it carries all the violence of our confrontation transformed into raw passion. I arch up against the handcuff, my body warring between fighting his control andsurrendering to the electricity crackling between us. The metal bites into my wrist, but I barely notice the sting.
Remy growls at my movement, the sound sending heat straight through me. His carefully maintained control finally cracks as his hands begin to explore my body with possessive intent. His touch brands me through my clothes, claiming and demanding in equal measure.
I gasp against Remy’s mouth as his hand slides beneath my shirt, his touch scorching against my bare skin. Every rational thought screams at me to stop this, to remember who he is and what he does, but my body betrays me. His fingers trace patterns up my ribcage that make me shiver.
“You’re playing with fire,” I warn him between kisses, though the threat in my voice is undermined by the way I arch into his touch.
He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “So are you.”
The raw honesty in his voice catches me off guard. There’s no pretense now, no careful manipulation or strategic moves. Just hunger, and something deeper that makes my chest tight.
His thumb brushes the underside of my breast, and I bite back a moan. The handcuff rattles against the headboard as I instinctively try to reach for him with both hands. The restriction only heightens every sensation, making me hyperaware of his touch, his scent, and the weight of his body pressing mine into the mattress.
“Let me go,” I breathe, tugging at the restraint. “I want to touch you.”
“No.” His response is immediate and definitive. He captures my free hand and pins it above my head, leaving me completely at his mercy. “I know you, Eve. The moment I release you, you’ll run.”
He’s right, of course. Even now, part of me is calculating escape routes, weighing options, and planning my next moves. But a larger part wants to surrender to this moment, to forget about investigations and betrayals and just feel.
My body trembles as his lips trace down my neck, his teeth grazing sensitive skin. Each touch is deliberate, designed to break down my resistance. And it’s working. God help me, it’s working.
Chapter 13
I crush my mouth against hers, swallowing her gasp. The kiss burns with violence barely contained, a match striking gunpowder. Eve’s response mirrors my urgency—her free hand grips my collar, pulling me closer even as tension radiates through her body.
Her lips part beneath mine, and I taste the conflict in her submission. The silk of her borrowed pajamas whispers against my suit as she arches up, seeking more contact while her mind fights against it. The metal of the handcuff clinks against the headboard, a sharp reminder of our precarious situation.
I devour her mouth, memorizing every response, every hitched breath. Her teeth graze my bottom lip—defiance even now. The familiar scent of her skin clouds my thoughts. I need to stop. Need to break away before I lose the last threads of my control. But I don’t want to.
Rising abruptly, I leave her breathing hard against the pillows. The distance between us crackles with unspoken accusations.I cross to my dresser, maintaining my composure even as my pulse hammers against my collar. The drawer opens silently.
Eve’s breath catches when I withdraw the knife. Fear and anger flash across her face, but she doesn’t speak. I ensure she sees the handcuff key in my other hand.
“It’s all about trust, Eve.” My voice remains steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “Maybe you can’t fully trust me with your investigation yet, but your body trusts me.”
