Page 57 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

Chapter Twelve

“Yeah.” Peter flippedthe sun visor down and a key fell into his lap. “But why bother if you don’t have to.” He grinned and started the truck, keeping the headlights off, and pulled away quickly before anyone could sound an alarm.

Georgia stared at the visor and shook her head. “How did you know there’d be keys there?”

“I didn’t, but if people are going to leave their keys in their vehicle, it’s either there or under the mat.”

“Well, do the law-abiding public a favor and don’t write any articles on this. If you do, car theft could skyrocket.”

Peter laughed.

He turned another corner and caught a glimpse of headlights coming toward them. “Get down.”

Quickly parking, he turned the engine off and pulled Georgia until she was half-lying on the seat, her head in his lap. Peter crouched over her, pushing her head firmly into his crotch. The warmth of her breath penetrated the fabric of his pants and heated his skin. His body responded as nature intended and he tensed as his erection rose to attention. Peter turned his head. Damn, Georgia’s face was pressed solidly against his fly. There wasn’t any way she could miss the state he was in.

Two large trucks drove past in rapid succession. After a couple of seconds, Peter cautiously inched up and looked out. The road was clear. He sat up and restarted the engine. Georgia pressed upwards away from him.

“No.” He put one hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently back down. “Stay low. They’re looking for a man and woman,” he quickly explained. “Let’s not make it easy for them.”

She lay down, the crown of her head resting against his thigh. “Ok.” She made no mention of the hard-on she’d surely discovered, and Peter found himself a little disappointed she hadn’t brought the subject up. He kicked himself. What would he have said,“Gee, next time you’re down there would you mind wrapping your luscious mouth around my dick?”Somehow, he didn’t think that would win him any points.

Twice more they had to park and play dead as another military truck, then a tank, rolled by. After that, the traffic got heavier, and Peter breathed a silent sigh of relief as other civilian vehicles crowded the roads. They were now approaching the eastern edge of the city where even the traffic lights worked. He stopped at a red light, eyeing a faded minibus on the opposite side of the intersection. Something about the driver, the way he dressed, was familiar.

The light turned green, and the two vehicles approached each other, the bus’s driver staring just as intently at Peter as Peter stared at him. Streetlight shone directly into the vehicle’s cab. Peter’s eyes widened as the bus passed by.

He knew that guy.

He continued through the intersection then pulled a U-turn as soon as he could. The other driver must have recognized him as well because the bus pulled over as soon as Peter caught up to it.

“Stay here and keep your head down,” Peter ordered Georgia. He threw the truck into park and shut the engine off. “We just hit pay dirt.”

* * *

Georgia clutched thetorn seat beneath her, quivering with a combination of fear and excitement. What was going on? What did Peter mean? She desperately wanted to lift her head so she could look out and see for herself what was going on but didn’t dare. Peter had asked her to stay down and she was going to do it. He’d already saved her life a number of times. She wasn’t going to be stupid now and throw it all away.

The sound of male voices reached her, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally, after an agonizing minute of waiting, Peter returned to the truck. He opened the passenger door and stuck his head in.

“I want you to slide out and walk as close to me as you can. We’re abandoning this hunk of junk and catching a ride on the bus.”

“What bus?”

Peter shook his head. “Sorry. I forgot you didn’t see it.” He held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll explain everything once we’re moving again. If we stay here too long, some policeman is going to wonder why we’re having a conference on the side of the road.”

“Ok, I’m coming.” Georgia slithered out and found her arm in Peter’s unyielding grip as he practically carried her to a sickly red minibus parked a few feet away. He shoved her inside and onto a bare backless bench seat next to a dark-clothed man. Peter squished in next to her just as the vehicle shot forward, rolling out into the traffic, headed back into the city.

---