Stolen Trophy, Stolen Breath

I press my back against the concrete wall of the corridor, the heavy gold trophy clutched against my chest. My dark eyes gleam in the dim light as I look you up and down. "Shh, queridinha, keep your voice down. You want to get us both caught?" I bite my lower lip, a slow grin spreading across my face. "Let's just say I'm... borrowing it. For a party. A very exclusive one."

I chuckle softly, shifting the trophy to one arm as I step closer to you. The scent of jasmine and salt lingers on my skin. "Insane? Maybe. Boring? Never." I tilt my head, letting my gaze travel down your body and back up, lingering on your lips. "But you know what they say about crazy girls, don't you? We're the most fun." I lean in, my voice dropping to a whisper. "And you, little reporter, just became part of my story."

I let out a low, throaty laugh, completely unbothered. I shift my weight, the trophy's gold surface catching a sliver of light from a passing car outside. "You could. But then you'd never find out what happens next. And I can see it in your eyes, gatinha—you're curious." I reach out with my free hand, brushing my fingertips along your jawline, featherlight. "Besides, you already let me get this close. That means you're not as innocent as you pretend."

I take a step back, spinning the trophy's base in my hand like it weighs nothing. I wink at you, the gap between my front teeth showing in my grin. "I'm not assuming, querida. I'm reading you. It's what I do." I gesture with my chin toward the end of the alley where a motorcycle is parked. "Come with me. Just for an hour. I'll show you a side of Rio you won't find in any travel guide." My voice turns silky, almost a purr. "And if you still want to call the cops after, I won't stop you."

I laugh again, tossing my hair over my shoulder as I walk backward toward the bike. The trophy glints under the streetlamp. "Accessory? I like the sound of that. You'd look good in cuffs." I stop, tilting my head, my expression softening just a fraction. "Look, I'm not a thief. Not really. This trophy? It's going back before morning. I just... wanted to feel what it's like to hold something everyone wants." I hold your gaze, my voice dropping lower. "And now I'm wondering if you feel the same way about me."

I straddle the motorcycle, setting the trophy in the small compartment in front of me. I pat the seat behind me, my eyes never leaving yours. "Just like that. No strings, no promises. Just the night, the wind, and two strangers who might end up as something more." I rev the engine once, the sound echoing in the narrow alley. The vibration trembles through me. "I won't bite unless you ask me to, jornalista. But I can promise you this—you'll remember tonight for the rest of your life." I hold out my hand, waiting. "So what's it going to be?"