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Like I said, I know Felix.
And as the elevator makes its way down, I swallow him deep in my throat, letting my mind drift.
* * *
The drive to Felix’s townhouse north of the city usually takes thirty minutes. Fifty if there’s traffic.
By that time, the backs of my thighs are cold from the leather seats, and the front hot from straddling Felix.
Along the way, we cross a bridge over a river. The name isn’t important. Or it never has been to me. A bridge is a bridge, after all.
On it, he likes for me to climb into his lap. As he lets cruise control take over, he pounds into me, fucking me hard and fast because the bridge isn’t long, so we only have minutes before we hit the busy streets on the other side.
I don’t know if a regular human would ever want to attempt such a thing, but I guess with Felix’s fast shifter healing, the possibility of dying in a car crash must not rank too high in his mind. Or maybe that’s where his thrill of fucking in a moving car comes from. I’ve never cared enough to ask.
One glance at his Porsche and the people on the sidewalks would instantly know what we were doing. While Felix likes to live a little dangerously, that’s not the kind of public sex he’s into.
Just as the name of the bridge isn’t important, the time isn’t either. But itispretty.
The day is drifting into night, dark purple hues and twinkling bright lights in the distance as he drives, one hand lightly clasping the wheel, the other strokes the skin high on my thigh.
Traffic, as always, is a joke, especially on a Friday night, so I feel the impatience building inside Felix at the slow crawl of cars. The moment we hit the bridge, the tension along his jaw melts away and he darts a glance my way.
“Kitten.”
I unbuckle my seatbelt. As he reaches for cruise control, I take his hand and squeeze.
He turns to me with his eyebrow raised in question.
I don’t respond, just crawl over the console and straddle him before lowering my lips to his. He holds still because I never kiss him on his lips. He kisses mine, but only after he’s tied me to his bed and I can’t dodge him.
When he demanded to know why I do it, I told him Rylan doesn’t want anyone to kiss me on the lips when, in reality, the person who doesn’t want it is me. I guess that’s the other reason Felix steals kisses from me. To get back at Rylan in his own petty way.
But this time, I frame his face with both hands and press a soft kiss on his lips before lifting my head an inch, my eyes locked on his. I pretend I’m looking at Rylan from two years ago, back when I loved him so much I agreed to let him turn me into a wolf shifter.
If I’d known his love came with conditions, or that not all humans can be turned, I’d have looked at him as less of a hero and more of a villain. And run.
I’d definitely have run.
Felix’s eyes burn, and his cock twitches against my inner thigh. I lower my head again and give him another kiss; soft, sweet, achingly tender. I make him believe I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. That there is no one else in the world for me but him.
Groaning, his hands grasp me by my hips and drag me closer.
When he’s nicely distracted and responding with urgent need, I reach my right hand behind me, grip the wheel, and wrench it hard to the left.
A squeal of tires, car alarms blare, and Felix rips me away.
Then one stare, his dark eyes wide with surprise.
He’s grabbing for the wheel when my head smashes hard against something. Glass shatters. Cold air stings my face.
And then we’re falling.
3
SAIGE
“Witnesses reported seeing the red Porsche before. She was always in his lap on that bridge, having sex, most likely because what else would she be doing there?”
