Hot Pursuit (8 page)

“Good luck with your job hunting,” she said, smiling. Zoey didn’t want to tell him that finding a job in Zounds would be hard as hell to do, unless the job was with her father.

“I was sitting on those porch steps thinking about wandering around, getting a feel of the town. It would be perfect if someone who lived here gave me a tour.”

“It’s just about dark,” she pointed out. “You wouldn’t get a good view of the town.”

Ben was by far the best-looking man she’d ever laid eyes on. There wasn’t a man in Zounds, single or otherwise, who compared to him. Zoey hastily pointed out to herself that he probably would have asked anyone who came along to give him advice on the town. If they talked to him as she had, he might have asked for a tour. He was a man, just like her father’s thugs, his accountants, his business partners, and gave her an appraising once-over like all the rest. None of the men on her dad’s payroll looked like this, though.

“You’re right, of course,” Ben said.

For a moment she thought he had responded to her thoughts, which was ridiculous.

“How about a ride?” he asked.

“A ride?” Zoey looked up at him, and a slow, lazy smile appeared on his lips. She wasn’t convinced yet that Ben wasn’t on her father’s payroll or trying to be. But wouldn’t it be scandalously wonderful to spend time with someone who had absolutely no ties, voluntary or otherwise, to her dad?

“Stay right here,” Ben ordered, pointing at her before turning and jogging back toward the bed-and-breakfast.

Every inch of her demanded she march across the street to the library and get in her car. She might have actually done that, but she was mesmerized staring after Ben as he jogged away from her. He didn’t look like any jogger she’d ever seen. His legs were thick with muscles that pressed against his blue jeans. And his ass, holy crap! “Buns of steel” was just too cliché—an overused expression. There wasn’t anything clichéd about his ass.

For the most part asses had never been her favorite part of the male anatomy. Zoey would have to say a hard cock was her favorite part of a man’s body. However, if asked, Zoey would say the chest appealed to her the most. If a guy had a broad, muscular chest, it caught her eye every time.

She continued staring, lost in the perfect formation of his body. Ben didn’t really jog, she decided. He ran slowly, like a dangerous beast, content with his surroundings already and satisfied that anything in his way would move so he could reach his destination. That level of raw, carnal confidence appealed to her as much as his perfect body did.

“Shit!” she hissed.

When he disappeared from sight, the trance he had her under broke. Zoey scowled at the sidewalk, trying to shake sense back into her head. No way would she be lured by a man she didn’t know. And in spite of physical perfection and an incredible show of self-confidence, she didn’t know anything about him. Her attention shot to the bed-and-breakfast when the sound of a motorcycle starting up grabbed her attention. She couldn’t go riding with Ben on a motorcycle. Why hadn’t she been thinking? When he said “a ride,” of course he had meant on a bike. He had been the man she had seen on the bike earlier.

The thought of being on that large, rumbling motorcycle immediately had her trembling with need. Not just wet between her legs. And not just feeling her breasts swell as lust created a feverish desire inside her. But a full-blown tsunami-strength wave of passion that pressed under every inch of her skin.

Ben revved his bike, and she swore she felt the vibration in the sidewalk as it seared up her body. There was no way she could do this. Even if she wanted to, and God, she wanted to, taking off with a strange man on his motorcycle was absolutely insane. Beyond the obvious, her father would have her head if she was seen in the company of another man when she was supposedly engaged.

Zoey darted across the street. Her car was one of only a few left in the library parking lot. She slowed when she neared it, but her timing was off. Ben entered the parking lot and slowed his bike, then came to a stop in front of Zoey.

“Get on,” he instructed.

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I do.” He did sound sure of himself. “I only have one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know your name.”

“Zoey Cortez.” Zoey watched for his reaction.

“Well, Miss Cortez,” Ben began, and pushed down the kickstand to the large, rumbling bike and climbed off it.

Zoey was entranced by his long, powerful-looking legs. There were roped muscles pressing against his blue jeans, and they flexed in his thighs and just above his knees as he agilely slipped off the bike and faced her. She bet if he weren’t wearing his jeans, his legs would be covered with a thin spread of hair. A man as rough and tough looking as Ben probably would have a scar or two. Her gaze rose slightly when she tried picturing his flat stomach. But she didn’t look that high up his body. Her view got locked on the slight bulge in his pants.

Before she let her mind wander down dangerous territory, Ben grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the air.

“Oh God!” Zoey cried out, immediately clutching his tan arms.

“Spread your legs,” Ben instructed, his voice soft and so calm sounding.

“What?” she gasped. It was more like a yelp—a very unladylike yelp.

“Wait! Oh my God!” Zoey would have screamed. It was right there in her throat ready to come out. But instead she clipped out an, “Oh!” when he placed her on the back half of the long, wide leather seat on his motorcycle.

Instantly she felt the vibration of the motor between her legs. Then Ben raised his leg and straddled his bike once again. He situated himself in front of her, which basically meant her crotch was pressed against his ass and her inner thighs rubbed against his outer thighs.

“Put this on,” he instructed, handing her a black helmet.

Zoey took the helmet. She slipped it over her head just as he pulled the bike around and left the parking lot.

“This is kidnapping!” she yelled over the loud motor.

“Oh?” Ben slowed instantly and began crawling down Summer Street, the main street running downtown. “Want me to go back?”

Zoey wanted to bury her head in his back. It wouldn’t do any good. Most shoppers had headed home for the evening. But the slower he drove, the easier it was for anyone to glance up, check out the new guy in town, and wonder what the hell Zoey Cortez was doing on the back of his bike. Her father might very well already be getting a call.

There was a mixed blessing in that. He would be pissed, beyond livid. And there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it. He wouldn’t control her. If, somehow, Zoey could tarnish her reputation by riding on this motorcycle with some drifter and it resulted in Hector Isley never wanting to see her again, she’d do it. At the same time, her father’s temper was nothing to take lightly. Zoey had spent her life learning how to keep her father from hitting her, and on how to convince the few people she called friends to believe he didn’t. Not because she cared about her father’s reputation but because she cared about her own. It was exhausting work being her own bodyguard. Zoey wasn’t a tyrant like her father. Bodyguards deserved vacations from time to time.

“No!” she yelled over Ben’s shoulder, which she was able to do only because her part of the seat was noticeably higher than his. “Just keep in mind everyone knows me in this town and you just paraded us through downtown. So don’t even think—”

His laughter cut her off. “You’re in the most trustworthy hands in the state of California.”

She prayed he was right. For once, she would take a walk on the wild side, or make that a ride on the wild side. She was doing something because she wanted to do it. It was daring, spontaneous, and dangerous. And she prayed she wasn’t making the worst decision of her life.

Zoey was terrified, stimulated, turned on, and entranced all at the same time. Her heart beat too hard in her chest, and her tummy was doing flip-flops. Gorgeous men simply didn’t come along and sweep her off her feet, literally.

She adjusted the helmet on her head so she could see better around her. If anyone did step out from any of the shops downtown to get a better look, Zoey wanted to know who was doing the staring. Or if early-evening strollers stopped in their tracks to check her and Ben out, Zoey would know who. So far no one had, not that Zoey could see inside shop windows. But if her father informed her he’d received a phone call, before going on to berate her for humiliating him and the Cortez name—not that he didn’t do that every day—she would at least have a good idea who made the phone call. So far, Zoey had seen no one staring at her and Ben.

Daring to relax just a bit, she dropped her hand on her leg. Already one of her hands rested on his waist. If she wrapped her arms around him, leaned into his hot, muscular backside, she might very well forget about the potentially dangerous situation she was getting herself into. Instead she allowed herself to enjoy the muffled rumble of the motor from inside her helmet. It gave her the odd sensation that she was suddenly in her own world where nothing else she’d just left mattered anymore.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Ben said over his shoulder, and straightened his arms in front of his handlebars.

His legs moved, and she was forced to adjust hers. Then they were moving. Really moving. Instinctively Zoey wrapped both arms around his waist, clinging to him at first. After they’d ridden a few blocks and were no longer downtown, her grip relaxed. Zoey realized she’d had her head pressed against his back and raised it to look around.

“So give me the tour,” Ben said, looking over his shoulder at her.

“It seems more as if you were giving me the tour.”

Ben had an ornery smile. Dimples appeared on either side of his mouth as he smirked at her. It was harder to see his eyes, but focusing on his profile she also noticed his eyelashes were long and thick. His blond hair bordering the strong features on his face helped give him a charming look. Zoey imagined Ben to either be an incredible troublemaker or the type of man who would always save the day and make sure no one was ever harmed. She couldn’t imagine him being both but also couldn’t decide which way his nature went.

“Are there factories in Zounds, or maybe any contractors who might need a painter or a carpenter?” he asked. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

She just bet he was. “Rod Greene hires temporary help from time to time when he’s working on a home,” she offered.

“Greene?” Ben asked, again turning his head slightly when he spoke to her. His hands rested on his handlebars, and he leaned forward slightly but then straightened his arms once again when they reached the end of the street. “Left or right?”

“Umm, right,” she decided. Not that it mattered. It was dark now, and there wasn’t anywhere she could take him at night that would help him find work. Nor could she think of any part of town worth showing off in the dark. “And yes, Rod Greene. I don’t know how he hires his help, but whenever he’s working on a home he always has men with him that I’ve never seen before. And I know they aren’t always the same guys.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because if Rod always had the same crew I would know his men.”

Her heart fluttered when he did that little smirk thing with his mouth. “Drive me by where he lives,” Ben instructed.

“You can’t stop by his place tonight.”

“Nope. Wasn’t planning on it. But if I know where he lives, I can hopefully be in the right place at the right time in the morning to find work.”

Ben had no intention of looking for work. He honestly hadn’t planned on trying to pick up on one of the locals, either. That was until he’d spotted Zoey and his entire body had responded to the regal way she’d walked down the sidewalk. He was incredibly aware of the short skirt she was wearing and how, at the moment, it had to be scrunched up around her hips. He knew it was wishful thinking, but Ben swore he felt the heat from her pussy soaking through the back of his jeans.

Her arms loosened around his waist, and her hands began slipping from where they were to his thighs. Before she could relax her grip too much, Ben took both her hands in his and held them against his waist. It forced her to lean into his back. She was wearing two tank tops, one white and one pink. Their thin straps draped over her slender shoulders, and the material from the shirts swooped low over her breasts. He had guessed she wore a strapless bra, which he hadn’t seen. It might be made with lace instead of a lot of padding, because when her fairly large breasts pressed against the middle of his back, there was no mistaking her nipples hardening and poking into his shirt.

It was a cool evening, but he guessed Zoey was a lot more used to this climate than he was. He wasn’t driving fast. Not to mention his big body was likely blocking the chilly breeze from her petite, perfectly shaped, hot, little body.

Instantly Ben was hard. Feeling her against him, imagining how tight she might be if they had sex, had his dick stretching against his jeans, which made it uncomfortable as hell to turn corners or shift his body weight in any direction as he rode down the dark, sleepy roads in this quaint little town.

There hadn’t been that welcoming curiosity on any of Zounds’s town folk’s faces when he and Marley had driven into town. They’d both gassed up, refurbished the caffeine, and asked about the best place to stay the night. The middle-aged man working at the gas station had stared at the two of them for a moment, his masked expression either aghast that they would want to stay the night in his town or wary of why they were here in the first place.

Ben had noticed that same masked expression on many faces as he and Marley had gone from the gas station, to the bed-and-breakfast, then to a small grocery store, and finally back to the bed-and-breakfast. He’d finally broken free of Marley when he’d perched his ass on the front-porch steps and tried to understand what vibes he was getting off this town. If Micah was still hiding out here, Ben seriously doubted anyone in Zounds would know who he was or that he was even here. That’s when Ben had spotted Zoey.