Page 8 of Covert Mission
It’s not helping that I can’t breathe. He’s got me crushed so hard my lungs are pancaked.
My head swims. Black dots appear in front of my eyes.
I give one last, “Mmmmlp,” against his hand.
This is it. I’m going to die crushed against a human furnace. Flattened and burned to cinder.
He stiffens when the sound of shouting reaches us. Angry men’s voices in a language I can’t make out. The man holds so still. Coiled tight. Not even breathing.
The voices don’t draw closer. But they don’t recede, either.
A weird throbbing starts in my chest. I’m not sure it’s my heart, but if it is, there’s something broken.
He drags me off toward the tree line. With my last ounce of energy, I try to knee him, but he deflects and shifts me.
Uh oh.
That went all wrong.
He situates me against his hip. My arms are pinned at my sides, the rest of my body angled away from his family jewels.
So much for that plan….
His breath fans over my temple as he leans close to my ear. Goosebumps explode all over my body.
“Don’t make a sound.”
His timbre is so rough, I’m sure a feral animal just whispered in my ear.
ChapterThree
Little damned fool.
What the hell is a woman like her doing in a place like this without a guard?
Fucking hell.
I’m going to chew someone’s ass.
Once I get us the hell out of here, that is.
The woman’s light as a feather. She weighs nothing against my side as I retreat into the dense, humid jungle.
I move quickly. Silencing my strides.
As I pull away from the edge of town, I cue up my mic by tapping my thumb on the silicone ring on my left hand. “I’m moving along the west side of the village in the tree line. I’ve got the redhead. Report your locations.”
One by one, Storm, Truck, Scout, and JT report in.
Each of us works our way toward our designated rendezvous.
Their quick action makes me proud. A few of the guys know each other, served together. But first missions as a new team can be hard. Looks like they are coming together well.
Now if I can just get there without my cargo disclosing my location.
Thankfully, all wiggling has stopped.
She’s frozen now, like a plank with soft womanly curves, locked against my side, except for the little gasps for air that are making her ribs expand and contract like a panicked bird.