I glance at Zephyr, who is not staying down as I said, then check the rearview and sure enough, there is an unmarked car hauling arse to keep up with my breakneck speed.
“Shite.”
My mate shifts around to get a better view, her mind seemingly racing by the jumbled thoughts and wide range of emotions. “It’s not the same group.”
I quirk a brow. “Pardon?”
“There’s only three in the sedan. The ones that were following us are most likely moving in another vehicle. You should get on the expressway.”
“We need to get back to the house. It is secure, and though they proved their stupidity now, those males would not be so daft as to follow us home.”
But my mate is shaking her head. “They’re already following us. We need to get rid of them in order to get home in one piece. Get on the expressway so we can lose them.”
Who in the bloody hell is this female?
She is most definitely not the weak and timid little flower she thought herself to be, not with the stern look on her face and analytical eyes searching out the back window. The female before me almost appears to have some sort of experience in this sort of thing and while it confuses the hell out of me, I find I like it very much.
“Your safety is my priority, my love. If I get on the expressway—”
“It’ll be less compact, less busy at this time of night. We’ll have an easier time keeping tabs on multiple vehicles and put less people at risk. It’ll be easier to lose them or take them out.” Zephyr turns to me. “Do you have any weapons in here?”
Seriously, who in the bloody hell is this female?
But I just nod toward the glove box. “Should be two Glocks in there, a third under your seat.”
I watch in awe as my mate removes all three weapons, checks to make sure they’re loaded, then sets them all on the dashboard.
The timing isn’t ideal, but watching Zephyr go into what I can only describe asdefense modehas Excalibur taking notice and he is just as pleasantly surprised as I am by this new discovery.
Which is incredibly awkward when my mate leans over the center console, maneuvers under my arms and leans her face a mere few inches from my crotch.
Well, shite.
“Zephyr, my love, please take no offense but…” Her fingers move to the buckle of my belt and my cock goes from half mast to full salute in no time. “Zephyr…“
She quickly undoes the Italian leather then rather aggressively tugs and pulls until it comes free of my trousers. And I fear this is far more dangerous than the males we are fleeing from because flying down the on-ramp of the expressway with my gorgeous mate’s face in my lap while she removes my belt and god only knows what else, that has scenarios playing in my mind that will cause an accident quicker than my ninety-five mile an hour speed.
“Zephyr… ” I fucking groan as her hands brush my erection. “Love, what in Christ’s name are you doing?”
“Trying not to lose an eye,” she mumbles as she turns to face the steering wheel.
I glance down in my lap. “Cheeky, but not quite appropriate.”
Another almost audible eye roll. “Focus on the road, Wraith.”
I do, the world’s hardest dick aside, but I can’t help but be curious over Zephyr’s actions. So while I dart in and out of the small burst of traffic and head south, I periodically peek at my mate and become even more intrigued, though slightly perplexed, by her than I already am.
Zephyr has looped my belt through the bottom portion of the steering wheel in a V shape, around the divides and through the middle, and she seems to be attaching it to something under the seat.
Interesting.
“Zephyr?”
“Found another gun,” she says as she smiles up at me from between my thighs. “And I just secured the steering wheel so if you have to let go for some reason it should stay straight.”
My brow lifts. “Really?”
She nods, shimmies out from under my arm as she checks the Glock, turns off the safety then sticks it under my leg.
