32 ~ Felix

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Felix rode her Harley down highway sixty-four toward the airport, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. The last time she traveled that stretch of road she was heading in the other direction, away from the assholes. The feel of Ryan's mouth on her body kept Felix's spirits up. She had become addicted to his touch and his taste and the rush of adrenaline she felt whenever his eyes dissected her. She sensed the affection behind those looks, and it would serve as motivation as she took on the assholes.

As her headlights reflected off the nature preserve sign, Felix's heart rate picked up. Not a good thing when seven hundred pounds of Harley roared beneath your ass. Felix made the turn, and when she found the parking lot empty, she felt a strange sense of relief, although no cars didn't mean no people hiding in the shadows. Trees surrounded the parking lot on all sides, closing her in, and Felix swung into a space near the entrance, making use of any advantage she could find. Ryan assured her he and Fulton would be less than five minutes away, but she could bleed to death in three if a bullet hit the right spot. Damn. Why was she letting her mind go there?

Felix dismounted and retrieved her phone from her saddlebag, swiping through her settings and engaging the GPS. She left her helmet on while she waited for a call back, reducing the chance of someone taking a pot shot at her head. Not that it would matter. A clean shot through the heart would do the trick. Ugh.

It didn't take more than a minute before her phone rang, and Felix pulled the helmet off her head to answer. "Hello?"

"Hola, chica. Are you excited to be reunited with your family?"

She groaned inwardly. She really wanted to kick Carlos in the balls. "I'm at the meeting point. Where are you?"

"We are on our way. We wanted to be sure you were alone before we came out of hiding."

She deposited her phone in her helmet as a black dual cab truck pulled into the parking lot and rolled up next to her. A burly man she didn't recognize climbed out of the passenger's side. He was dressed in jeans and a tight-fitting shirt, but her gaze immediately went to his waist, where a leather whip wound around his belt loop. She decided it was best not to wonder what he used it for and focus on Carlos, who was strutting up to her like a Lucha libre wrestler.

"You are looking as tasty as ever," he said. "Maybe now that you are through with your estupido boyfriend, you will let me taste you."

Despite the fact that Felix often used sarcasm with Carlos, she reeled in her smart mouth, opting for a more reserved approach to start out. "I'd rather not talk about estupido boyfriends." Whipping boy arrived next to Carlos and Felix sized him up. Based on girth and circumference, she knew he could take her in a nanosecond. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Hector," Carlos said as if he knew Felix had been doing the math. "He is Donovan's personal assistant, and tonight he will be my assistant. We will be taking you and your Precious to the airport, but first I need to make sure you are not carrying any weapons. This, I will do without Hector's assistance."

"I'm not packing, Carlos, and my Tomcat is in my duffel. It's the only gun I own." She reached inside her saddlebag and pulled out her duffel, shoving it into his chest.

Carlos checked her bag and passed it off to Hector. "I still have to pat you down. Donovan's orders."

Felix rolled her eyes and submitted to his dumbass request. It probably wouldn't be her only humiliating experience over the next few hours. Carlos started under her armpits, feeling his way down her sides and trailing them along the edge of her bra. He leaned into her chest, inhaling ragged breaths at her ear as he patted around the back of her jeans. Wearing a poorly disguised grin, Carlos crouched in front of her, running his fingers along her inner thighs and taking his damn time to do it. The guy was itching for a serious knee to groin injury.

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