Page 179 of Vicious Temptation

“Sometimes the law isn’t enough.”

There’s something different about the way he says it, and I study what I can see of his face behind the mask. “That’s a pretty questionable philosophy for a cop.”

“Maybe.” His gaze drops to my leg again. “But doing the right thing and doing the legal thing aren’t always the same.”

“You know, Braga, you might be a shittier cop than I thought. I knew I liked you.”

A small smile returns. “You have no fucking idea.”

I laugh, and after a beat, he joins me.

Whatever put that look on his face disappears when I let my thighs fall open, and I decide I’ve spent plenty of time interrogating Batman when I could be having much more fun with him.

“You know, I bought this catsuit and barely got to show it off tonight. It would be a terrible waste not to actually play the part.”

His gaze travels over the black leather covering me. “Trust me, nothing about that suit has gone to waste.”

The reminder of exactly how much he appreciated it earlier has me tempted to let him have his way with me. But I’m not ready to let Batman have his prize that easily.

“You seem pretty confident for a man who’s only managed to catch me once.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Maybe you should be.” I shove my heel into his chest, and he staggers back. I use the opening to roll across the mattress and hit the floor on the other side of the bed.

“Remi.”

I straighten with a grin. “I think you mean Catwoman.”

His head tilts slightly, and even with half his face hidden behind the mask, I catch the slow narrowing of his eyes and a hint of a smile at his mouth.

“Okay, Catwoman.”

I crook a finger at him. “Come get me.”

Thiago slowly rounds the bed, and I match each step in the opposite direction.

“You know how this ends.”

“Do I?”

“With me catching you, pinning you down, and giving that smart mouth something better to do.”

My pussy clenches at the image he just put in my head, and I hate how badly I want him to make good on it.

“Again with the confidence.”

“Again with pretending you don’t like it.”

He moves without warning. I dart away from the bed, but instead of running for the door, I turn and swing. He blocks my fist with his forearm, and I follow with another that he dodges.

“Oh, so we’re actually fighting,” he says with a smirk.

“What did you think we were doing?”

“Foreplay.”

I laugh and throw another punch. “Of course you did.”