Page 253 of Vicious Temptation

“Why would you ask me that?”

I know the answer almost as soon as I say it. My duffel sits half-open on the floor by the vanity, cuffs inside.

“No.” I shake my head. “Whatever you’re thinking, absolutely not.”

A crease forms between her eyebrows. “You don’t even know what I’m thinking.”

“Yes, I do. And the answer is no.”

Crossing the room, I grab the cuffs from the side of my bag and shove them deeper inside.

“Thiago.”

“No, Remi.”

She steps toward me. “I need you to listen to me. I want you to cuff me.”

My thoughts immediately race through every reason she could be asking for this, and none of them make me feel any better.

“No. That isn’t changing.”

Her eyebrows rise. “I need you to hear me out.”

“No, I’m won’t. Because you told me cops put you in handcuffs while pointing guns at you.” I take one of her wrists carefully and turn it over, her skin still red where the cuffs had been.. “Your wrists are still fucking bruised.”

“I know. But remember when you said there wasn’t anything I could ask that you wouldn’t do?”

Meeting her eyes, I shake my head. “Don’t use that against me. I’m not putting you through this, not when it just happened.”

Her attention falls to my hand around her wrist, and her fingers close gently over mine.

“That’s why I want you to.”

I go still, her answer surprising me. Remi takes my hand.

“They took the choice away from me. I put my gun down because I was trying to protect everyone, and they still treated me like I was dangerous. They decided when I could move, where I could stand, what I could do with my own fucking hands.” Her voice stays steady, but I can feel her pulse beneath my fingers. “I hated that I couldn’t do anything about it. But with you…I’m choosing.” She turns her wrist and settles it fully into my palm. “I’m choosing to give you control because I know you’ll give it back the second I ask.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why do you need this?”

“This is for me. And because I trust you, Thiago.”

I want to deserve that trust more than anything.

“When I remember being in cuffs, I don’t want to remember them.” She comes closer until there’s barely any space between us. “I want to remember you.”

There are a thousand reasons I should refuse, and the biggest one has nothing to do with the bruises around her wrists. She trusts me while I’m still keeping something from her that could destroy everything between us.

My hand moves to the back of her neck, holding her close as guilt sits right in the middle of everything good about this moment.

I look down at the marks again and realize this isn’t about what makes me comfortable. It’s about trusting that she knows what she needs.

“Okay. But if we do this, you tell me the second anything hurts or feels wrong.”

Her expression softens, and some of the fight leaves her face. As if hearing me finally say yes matters almost as much as what comes next. “I will.”