Dangerous in Transit Page 19

  Jackie grasped his other wrist with her free hand and guided it to her mound.

  They were wearing far too much clothing.

  He let go of her, only to bunch up the dress and pull it up over her head. She didn’t have so much as panties on underneath.

  Jackie leaned up against the wall, her tanned skin standing out against the white washed walls. She was so fucking beautiful, standing there like a God damn queen. He did not deserve this, it shouldn’t be happening, but he’d lost the ability to care about why that was. The only thing that mattered right now was keeping that smile on her face.

  She reached for him, grasping the front of his shirt and his pants.

  “My turn,” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  He stared at her, momentarily confused. She bent, and the next moment her lips wrapped around his cock.

  “Oh—fuck.” The words came out choked and strained. His vision blurred to the point his sense of up and down wasn’t correctly calibrated.

  Felix braced his hand on the wall just in time, too. Jackie’s tongue rubbed along the underside of his cock. He flexed his hips, pushing into her, wanting to be inside of her in every way, as though that would make her his. This beautiful, vibrant woman who changed everyone around her. Even him.

  He shuddered when his cock kissed the back of her throat, his toes curling.

  “God damn,” he muttered.

  There was no way he’d be up for a second round, not after today, and not with the way she was touching him. He’d be utterly spent.

  Felix reached down and grasped Jackie under the arms. He hoisted her up to her feet, her grin wide, her lips damp and her eyes bright. In a moment those same lips would be gasping his name.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist.

  There was a step missing here.

  He paused, his fuzzy thoughts grasping for something he’d missed.

  “Condom,” he groaned.

  Fuck.

  They were still in the nightstand at the hotel.

  “No, no, no. We talked about this last night, remember?” Jackie bunched his shirt in her hands. “I have an implant? We both had blood work recently?”

  He had vague recollections of that.

  “But...”

  “Felix.” She groaned his name and stroked his cock nestled between their bodies.

  “Are you sure?” He’d trust her memory more than his right now. He had taken a bullet to the back of the head.

  “I wouldn’t put your cock in my mouth if I we hadn’t had that conversation.”

  “How do you know I didn’t lie?” He pressed his hips against her, enjoying the feel of skin on skin.

  “My gut says I can trust you.”

  “Is your gut always right?”

  “Close enough.”

  He picked her up, bracing her back against the wall. She laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock slid against her folds, no barrier whatsoever between them.

  “Yes,” she hissed and shifted her hips.

  He reached around her and grasped his cock, finding her entrance by feel. He thrust and slid into her wet channel. They both groaned, clinging to each other.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “Yeah.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer still.

  There wasn’t a big physical difference between condom or no condom, least not that he could tell. The defining thing about this moment was that spark of something more, something deeper, he felt for Jackie. These moments of vulnerability, the way she pushed for what she wanted, they changed him.

  “Oh, Felix.” She groaned his name, a touch of frustration in the mix.

  He chuckled and kissed her neck and jaw.

  Jackie was a woman who liked a bit of control, and she’d handed that over to him. She tipped her chin, just enough so he could suckle her lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. Her hips moved, and she dug her nails into his shoulders, but that was it. Her pussy constricted around his cock, a delicious, intimate hug, but he wanted more. He wanted her to be as crazy as he was right now.

  He slid a hand up, cupping her breast and rolled her nipple between his fingers. She panted against his mouth and called him something that probably wasn’t very flattering in a language he didn’t understand. She drove her heels into his ass, but all that did was deepen the physical joining. He leaned all his weight into her, going as far as he physically could.

  “Felix, fuck me already,” she said.

  “Not yet.”

  He lifted his other hand and cupped her other breast. She arched her back, eyes closed, lips parted. He lifted up on both nipples and her pussy constricted again, her face creasing into a mix of pleasure and need. She shifted her hips, grinding against him.

  Fuck, playing with Jackie might be the next defining moment of his life.

  Felix bent his head, licking and kissing her neck and shoulders, all the while caressing and toying with her breasts. He didn’t move his hips, didn’t fuck her, but her motions increased until she was rubbing on him.

  “Oh!”

  Jackie tossed her head back, eyes wide, mouth open. He felt the way her body trembled in orgasm.

  It was damn well beautiful.

  He grinned and kissed her panting lips.

  She’d set out to drive him crazy, and in return he’d make her come a few times to start.

  Felix grasped her hips and withdrew.

  “Oh—God.” Her eyes snapped open, and she clutched his shoulders.

  He thrust into her tight, hot pussy, still rippling from release. She buried her face against his neck, her teeth biting down on his shoulder, the yelp muffled against him. Was that pain?

  “Don’t you dare stop.” Jackie raked her nails over his shoulders.

  Felix grinned and hoisted her higher, the better for kissing. She held on tight to his shoulders and met his mouth with a hunger he could taste. He bent his knees and thrust up, into her, not holding back. Her moaning noises of pleasure drove him on.

  “Jackie—I need you to come,” he panted.

  “Haven’t...stopped...” She arched her back, face twisting into an almost painful mask.

  “Oh—fuck.”

  He gripped her hips and pulled almost out until her muscles grasped at the head of his cock. He thrust, seating himself deep inside of her.

  She gasped his name.

  Felix did it again until the roaring of blood past his ears was too much. He buried his face against her neck, groaning her name as his orgasm rolled up through his body, nearly robbing him of the ability to stand.

  Monday. Yenna M'Barek’s home, Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  “There is no way we’re fitting in there.”

  Jackie glanced at Felix and then their rescuers busy loading stuff on the truck to send to the refugee camps springing up outside the city.

  She could see his point, but what option did they have?

  “Look.” She turned to face Felix. “If you sat between the crates with you back up against the boxes, I could sit in front of you, and your pack in front of me. Nothing about this is going to be comfortable, but we’ll be covered on all sides.”

  “Then if we get stopped and they pull crates off, I can’t protect you.”

  “You’ll crush me if we sit the other way.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Maybe not, but that much of a tight space is already going to give me enough anxiety, I can’t sit like that.” Jackie wouldn’t call herself claustrophobic, but she did avoid tight spaces when she could.

  “Is there another way? Another truck going out?” Felix glanced around. There were other cars in the courtyard. “We could drive ourselves.”

  “And get caught at one of the stops around the city? If we drive ourselves, we’re going to get caught.” Jackie had gone over this with Felix when the plan was pitched to them. The military had places they were checking and PPM the rest.

  “I don’t like this.” He frowned at
the truck. “I could sit facing you?”

  “You could. And that is an option.”

  “But if someone opens the back, I’m turned the wrong way in a tight space to defend us. Shit.”

  The driver called out the time.

  “We’ll do it your way.” Felix said.

  “Okay. Then we better load up. They need to put the last of the crates on and there’s only about ten minutes to go.”

  “I fucking hate this.”

  Felix stepped onto the tailgate and offered her a hand up. He shed his backpack, but kept the rifle. That done, he backed into the space between the two crates, scooting further and further back. The cargo was arranged with crates along either side, providing a not quite two-foot-wide space for them to sit. If Felix was an average sized guy, it wouldn’t be such a problem, but with his Viking shoulders Jackie was anticipating an uncomfortably tight fit.

  She held onto his bag and chewed her lip watching Felix twist and slide to the bottom of the bed, his back braced against a stack of smaller boxes that would block the view from the cab.

  It really was an ingenious way to smuggle them out of the city.

  Felix settled with his back to the small boxes, rifle tucked against his side, muzzle pointed at the sky, and his knees drawn up. If the situation weren’t dire she might laugh at the way his face twisted into a frown. The only thing that kept him from looking like a pouting toddler was the thick stubble along his jaw.

  “We need to hurry.” The driver paused at the tailgate, eyeing the crates that would need to be loaded after them.

  She nodded and climbed onto the truck. The driver handed her several bottles of water she hoped they wouldn’t need. It wasn’t like there was anywhere to pee if she had to.

  Jackie turned and backed into the space. It wasn’t all that bad for her, but she’d always been on the slender side.

  “You’re good. Down,” Felix said.

  She eased into place, Felix positioning her between his thighs. She tucked his pack in front of her and the bottles of water wherever they would fit.

  “Ready.” She gave the driver a thumbs-up.

  The loading staff lost no time boxing them in. Crates were loaded on top of them, straddling the divide and the ones at the rear pushed together. They were trapped.

  “They’re going to tie those down, right?” Felix asked.

  “I hope so... Kind of feels like we’re being buried alive, doesn’t it?” The crates blocked out almost all the light.

  “Don’t think like that. Just close your eyes. It’ll be over soon.”

  She leaned her head back against his shoulder, listening to the voices. They were too muffled to make out the words, but she didn’t need to know what they were saying.

  “Let’s hope we get some airflow when we start going.” Felix pulled at his clothing.

  It was warm wearing his Kevlar vest, but after seeing how his helmet had stopped a bullet yesterday, Jackie wasn’t going to complain about the ill fitting protective gear.

  Barely a few moments after loading up the truck rumbled to life. There was hardly any pause before it shifted into gear and rolled forward.

  “Here we go,” Felix whispered.

  Breeze—and sand—sliced through the crates. They had air, but it was a hot wind out of the east. She didn’t want to mention the likelihood of a sand storm in these conditions. Not until she had to.

  The truck bumped and chugged along, staying in lower gears. It twisted and turned, never hitting a stretch of straight road.

  “Things must be pretty blocked.” Felix twisted as though he might be able to see through boxes. “You don’t get motion sickness, do you?”

  “No, thankfully. You?”

  “Nope.”

  On and on they drove until Jackie’s bottom and limbs grew numb.

  Jackie and Felix didn’t talk. It was hard to over the noise, and she didn’t know what she could talk about that wasn’t going to make her feel more helpless. The power was still out and cell phone service was cut. They had no way to know if their friends were still alive, dead, captured or what.

  The truck slowed to a stop. Men’s voices yelled orders.

  “What are they saying?” Felix whispered.

  “Sh.” She tilted her head to the side. “The driver is telling them to stay back... Don’t come closer...”

  The voices were nearer despite the order.

  Felix shifted his grasp on his gun.

  The unmistakable sound of a shotgun ka-chunk had goose flesh breaking out along her arms.

  “That’s a gun,” Felix said.

  “Yeah. He’s telling them to stay back or he fires.”

  “Are they?”

  The voices faded, and the truck rolled forward.

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  Felix squeezed his arm around her waist a bit tighter.

  Things had to be worse than she knew if this was the expected roadblock. The next time, would there be armed opposition? The men who’d attacked her medical convoy in the beginning had guns. Not many, but enough she and her team hadn’t stood a chance. If this truck were taken, and the driver killed over some sundry items, then it really was up to Felix to save her—or kill her.

  If Jackie’s only option in how best to help was eliminating herself from the equation, death was an obvious choice. But was she willing to do that?

  15.

  Monday. Presidential Bunker Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Duke wouldn’t have believed it if he weren’t seeing it himself. His head still spun from the twisting, turning staircase that led below the streets headed toward the Presidential Palace.

  The underground bunker was teeming with activity. To one side, people had old, switchboard-like devices they were muttering into. Ahead of them, a long table had people clustered around it. And on the other side of the chamber, surrounded by discarded, bloody bandages, the president lay on a cot.

  Val strode toward the cot with an air of purpose. He’d seen her single-handedly stitch the Imam back together. If anyone could make magic happen, it was her.

  “Our Court Advocate.” A familiar man strode toward Duke.

  “It is good to see you again.” He shook the hand of Yenna M'Barek. He was one of the smartest men at work in politics, the master of the quiet strike.

  “What is this place?” Kyle muttered in English.

  “Kyle, meet Yenna M'Barek.” Duke gestured at the politician.

  “I owe you a debt of gratitude from what I hear.” Kyle shook Yenna’s hand. They’d had a brief moment to contact his headquarters and learned the bare bones of Jackie and Felix’s plans.

  “Come this way.” Yenna gestured to the table. “We are short on time. General Taleb is withdrawing his forces—and support—from the city center. Samba Hamadi’s men are taking control, and if we do not stop him soon, he will force parliament to vote.”

  “You think he could force a coup that way?”

  “At least a dozen members of parliament have been rounded up and are being held captive.” Yenna gestured at a list to one side of the table. “Without those members, I am not sure what I can do to hold Samba off, even if I can make it to the parliament building.”

  “We spoke with the Imam at the hospital.” Duke peered at Yenna’s face. “I’ll tell you what I told him. If the people want their president back, they need to know he’s still alive. That there’s something to fight for. I have a plan if you’re willing to hear it?”

  “I’ll hear it, but if he doesn’t survive, there won’t be anything to do.” Yenna glanced at Val, doing what she could to save the best hope this country had.

  Monday. PPM headquarters in Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Samba wiped the American’s blood off his fingers.

  They knew nothing, but he couldn’t be done with them yet. They were still valuable bargaining chips.

  “Sir?”

  He glanced at his fill-in assistant. The man could not replace Lemine or even touch what he’d been ab
le to do. For all Samba knew, Lemine was dead.

  “What?” Samba snapped when the man didn’t say what needed to be said.

  “The perimeter guards have checked in. They haven’t seen the woman or Lemine.” The man flinched on both points.

  This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

  He should have the Davis girl, which would allow him to control the gold company’s support of the president.

  Someone knew where the old bastard was holed up. It wasn’t the military. It wasn’t parliament. So it had to be the financial backers of the establishment. If Samba could get his hands on her, this whole thing would be his before evening prayers.

  If his blockades hadn’t caught the woman yet, she was still inside the city. Between cutting the power and taking down the cell networks, they’d cut off communication. There was no way for her to call for help or counter his statement.

  “Bring me the satellite phone.” Samba pivoted and strode toward the stairs.

  It was time to make a bold move. Davis didn’t know Samba wasn’t in possession of his daughter. They’d waited weeks to have the girl, but every time she slipped through their fingers. Well, now it didn’t matter.

  Zeina would counsel that this was a bad idea, but she wasn’t in control. Samba was the future leader, and she was his pawn. He would not wait to play it safe while General Taleb marshaled his forces. The old man was biding his time. Well, when Samba had control of the palace, it would be too late. He’d have the support, and Taleb would go down in history as an ineffective leader.

  Monday. Refugee Camp outside of Nouakchott, Mauritania.

  Jackie held her breath, her whole body straining to make out the words.

  “What are they saying?” Felix whispered.

  “They’re coming closer. I can’t tell.”

  The truck had rocked to a stop what felt like ages ago. The temperature difference in their oven hideout when the vehicle was moving and stopped was unreal. She’d have thought the crates might insulate them, but it seemed to only make the temperature more extreme. Even sitting on the truck bed was burning her bottom and thighs.