Hot Pursuit (9 page)

She had strolled down that sidewalk with her long black hair swaying slightly just above her ass. He could tell, even from the distance when he first spotted her, that she wasn’t wearing stockings. Her dark, perfectly shaped legs were bare and her pretty little feet shown off in her high-heeled black sandals. The tight black skirt she wore could have been seen at a high-class function in L.A. With the loose-fitting tank tops hanging off her slender figure, she had that casual look about her. But when she got close enough for Ben to see how incredibly beautiful she was, he also noticed that same masked expression on her face that was on the face of every other citizen of Zounds he’d seen so far. Her good looks turned him on, but her composed features intrigued him even further. It wasn’t until he lifted her on his bike, mainly because she was too short to straddle it easily on her own but also to see if he could rattle that all-too-composed expression that he’d seen true fear appear in her large, doe-like eyes.

“Left or right?” he asked again at the next intersection.

“Right, then left in two blocks. Rod lives on Autumn Street.”

Ben drove by the contractor’s house, feigning interest, then turned at the next corner without asking which way to go. He caught a whiff of the ocean and continued in that direction until they reached the calm bay where tons of boats rocked silently against the waves. He didn’t get a lot of chances to go to the beach back home. Something told him if he suggested they do something, Zoey would want to be taken back. So instead of voicing his plans, Ben rode until the road T’d off and narrowed into a one-lane road running parallel to the sandy and rocky beach.

“We can’t park or anything,” Zoey complained when he stopped his bike. “I mean it. You have to take me back to my car now.”

He left the bike in neutral and straightened his legs so that his boots were on the road. “You’re safe with me, Zoey, always. I want you to know that.”

“And I should just take your word on this? I don’t know you,” she snapped, her tone rising as her uneasiness flourished. “I shouldn’t have ridden with you at all. Now just take me back to my car right now.”

“You aren’t enjoying yourself?”

“That’s not the point.”

“That’s the entire point,” he cut in. “Unless experiencing pleasure is somehow forbidden in this town.”

“Huh?”

Ben shifted on his bike but couldn’t see Zoey’s face to his satisfaction. Her thin, smooth legs almost seemed to clamp down against him when he decided to get off the bike. It was as if she seriously thought pinning her legs against his would prevent him from doing anything. He stood, stretched, pulled off his helmet, and took in the black blanket embedded with millions of stars over his head. When he straightened, Zoey had taken her helmet off, too, and was combing her hair with her fingers. He caught her staring at his belly where his shirt had risen up inches from his belt.

“What is it I’m sensing in this town?” Ben asked, and took Zoey’s helmet from her without asking.

Her long, incredibly straight black hair was breathtaking when it tumbled over her shoulders, over her breasts, and down her back. Zoey grabbed it with both hands, pulled it to her nape, then continued meticulously combing tangles out with her fingers. Ben ached to take over the task and watched with fascination.

“I’m not sure,” she said offhandedly. “I don’t sense anything.”

Zoey wasn’t giving him wary looks any longer. Her tone had gone noticeably flat, and that masked expression he swore every citizen in this damned town had to practice in their mirrors was back on her face. As she tugged her fingers through tangles and slowly had her hair falling in glossy black tumbles down her sides, Zoey slipped off his bike and stared at the ground in front of her. Not only did he sense that his question bothered her, but he also got the feeling she knew exactly why everyone in this town acted the way they did.

Which bugged him. At the same time his curiosity was piqued. Not only did he want to know the answer, he also wanted to know the woman sitting on his bike a lot better. Zoey was one of the most sensually distracting ladies he’d ever laid eyes on. Most women seemed at least mildly interested in him after meeting him. There had to be at least one woman who simply saw nothing in him at all that appealed to her. Maybe Zoey was that woman. If that was the case, though, wouldn’t she have been more adamant about not going on a ride with him?

He decided it was better not to care. Ben was here to protect Micah, to return the huge favor that had been done for him. Micah had helped turn Ben’s life around by leaving all that money. There was no way Ben would ever be able to pay it all back, but Micah would have known that. If it was at all possible, though, Ben would help save Micah’s freedom.

Ben knew Micah was trying to turn his life around. He had retired and was no longer an assassin—alleged assassin. Unfortunately, the statute of limitations would never run out on the crimes Micah was accused of committing. Ben could make sure Micah wasn’t hauled in. At least not this time around.

“Are you sensing something weird right now?” Zoey asked.

Ben blinked. He didn’t realize he’d been staring into space until he snapped out of his thoughts and focused on Zoey’s face. A small, amused smile lit up her face. That masked expression he knew he hadn’t misread a moment ago was no longer there.

And goddamn! Zoey was so far beyond beautiful it stirred more than his groin to life. Her caramel-colored skin glowed in the moonlight, with the help of a nearby streetlight. Her dark eyes were large and looking up at him. For once, he had all of her attention. Her lips, which were full and appeared moistened, were just a few shades darker than her skin.

“Actually, yes,” he murmured, and dared a step closer.

Zoey couldn’t be much more than five feet or so. She wore heels, which helped bring the top of her head possibly to his chin. She wasn’t petite but thin. Zoey didn’t strike him as fragile, in spite of how small she was. There had been something wary in her eyes, possibly because she’d agreed to do what women were taught never to do. Ben would have thrown a fit if any lady he knew took off with a man she didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to force Zoey into the ride, but since he had, he needed her to know she was safe.

“And what might that be?” Zoey didn’t look wary now.

Ben reached out and stroked her shiny black hair. “It has me curious.”

“My hair has you curious?” Zoey had to lean her head back to look at his face. “I’ve never heard that line before.”

He shook his head slowly. “I’m not giving you a line. Honestly, that really isn’t my style.”

“And what is your style?”

He’d just convinced himself leaving her alone was his best bet. Making a move on her wouldn’t help convince her he was a trustworthy man passing through her town. Ben didn’t want Zoey talking about him or in any way drawing unwanted attention to his being in Zounds.

The last thing he needed was some hot cutey with large brown eyes that seemed to stare up at him with wonder interfering with him helping out Micah. Ben needed to be discreet. He needed to remain focused. He also needed to leave soon and spend his evening trying to find Micah. It wasn’t as if the guy would have a cell phone or address that Ben could look up.

Ben couldn’t argue with any of his thoughts as he finished stroking Zoey’s hair and cupped her chin. It took a bit more reminding of why he was here to get himself to let go of her.

Zoey grabbed his wrist. Her hand was noticeably smaller than his. Her fingers didn’t wrap all the way around his wrist. She held on to him with a cool touch. Her hand was soft and her fingers smooth. Not that he wouldn’t have guessed it about her, but whatever she did for a living, it wasn’t physical labor. He needed to leave her as a stranger and quit being curious about the different layers he was already noticing in her in the short time they’d been together.

“This isn’t my style,” she began, her voice sultry as she spoke just above a whisper. “Zounds makes me nuts. I go stir-crazy. There’s nothing to stimulate me and I’m—” She cut herself off, breathed in slowly as if to regroup, and quit staring at his chest. She raised those big dark eyes to his. Zoey blinked, flashing thick black lashes that were more distracting than such a small body part should be. “I’m trying to say that this isn’t how I usually behave.”

“Do you mean taking rides on motorcycles with men you don’t know?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” she said with a quiet laugh.

He got an odd impression that she didn’t laugh enough. Ben knew from enough experience not to judge a person too soon.

“This was a bad move, stupid, incredibly dangerous, and I’m going to ask you in a minute to return me to my car. I’d appreciate it if you did just that and not keep me out longer.”

“In a minute?”

“Yes,” she said. “Since I’ve made this bad, stupid, incredibly dangerous move, once I go home I’d rather not berate myself over it all evening. I would prefer to go home and think about other things.”

“What do you want to think about?”

“Kiss me,” she said. It wasn’t quite a sentence and not completely a question.

The two words hung between them only for a moment.

Ben pulled his wrist free from her grip, then wrapped his hand around her arm. He pulled her closer when he lowered his head and kissed her.

All thoughts against Zoey dissipated from Ben’s brain. His curiosity about the town and the impression he’d received so far from everyone living there vanished. There simply was no room in his mind for anything else other than that kiss.

Ben let go of her arm and slid his hand behind her neck. Her skin was so soft. Her lips were full, wet, and a feast he could spend hours enjoying. As his fingers stretched around the slight curve at her nape, Zoey let her head fall back and opened for him.

God! She tasted of everything that was perfect in the world. This was nothing like kissing Stacy, who by now would have one of her long legs wrapped around him while her hands frantically tried to undress him. The thick blanket of lust enclosing his brain thinned to a veil, allowing him to see through it.

Zoey’s hands weren’t on him at all. Her head was tilted back. In fact, he supported it with his fingertips pressing against the base of her skull. Her mouth had opened for him without him pressing for her to do so. Her tongue had ventured into his mouth but now swirled around his in her own mouth. She had relaxed, almost gone limp, and her breathing was so calm he barely felt her lungs fill with air when he pressed his hand against her back. When he slowed the kiss down and simply moved his lips over hers, she remained relaxed. Zoey didn’t straighten, touch him, try to end the kiss, or keep it going.

Had he ever had a one-sided kiss before? Ben was fairly certain he hadn’t. Women had dumped him in every way humanly possible. But he was pretty sure he’d never been snubbed with the first kiss.

Ben moved his hand from Zoey’s back and found her hand. It was damp, and for a moment he thought she trembled. He intertwined their fingers together and ended the kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, straightening and studying her face for her immediate reaction.

Zoey hummed instead of answering. Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted, and the prettiest shade of pink he’d ever seen was splashed across her cheeks. Ben stared down at her, speechless. He’d fought not to get hard kissing her, since already she’d taken a leap of faith in riding with him and she’d said as much to him. But now as he gazed down at the result of kissing her, there was no fighting it. Ben was hard as stone so fast it made him light-headed.

Maybe it hadn’t been a one-sided kiss. Had he only been with aggressive women in the past?

“It was amazing,” Zoey purred. There was no other way to describe how her words sounded.

Ben hadn’t detected any type of accent in her voice when they first met. And he wasn’t sure he could dub this a Hispanic accent now, but there was a thickness in her words. It was absolutely erotic. Even more blood drained to his cock.

Her long, thick black lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. She stared up at him with her milk-chocolate orbs. As she licked her lips, he imagined her tasting their kiss and without giving it thought touched her full lips. They were the color of wine, he decided, and damn if they weren’t as intoxicating.

But when she looked at him, more than his cock got hard. Never had a woman drawn forth such a primal desire inside him to hold her, caress her, and guide her through every step of earth-shattering sex. Zoey’s expression almost looked grateful, as if he’d just given her some incredible gift and she wanted more.

She made no demands, offered no propositions. Zoey didn’t say a word. Ben waited until she looked away to try to put his brain back in the proper gear before he proposed they find a better location to continue. Already he was picturing her naked. A small smile remained on her face, and color stayed in her cheeks. That made it even more challenging to draw the blood back into the head on his shoulders and remind himself what he needed to be doing tonight—and without Zoey.

“I’ll take you back to your car before I kiss you again.” Ben didn’t add that if he did, it definitely wouldn’t stop with just a kiss.

Chapter Six

Wolf was up at six. He could have slept longer. The bed in his room at the bed-and-breakfast was comfortable as hell. Nonetheless, he tossed the sheet and thick blanket back and walked barefoot over the oval carpet to the cool wooden floor at the edge of his room. Parting the curtains, he stared down at the small parking lot behind the large old Victorian-style house. Ben’s motorcycle was there. It hadn’t been at two in the morning when Wolf had woken up last.

After showering and dressing, Wolf left his room, taking care to close his door quietly. He’d heard someone enter one of the rooms around eleven the night before, which told him the walls were fairly thin. It hadn’t been Ben, who’d rumbled out of the parking lot around seven the night before and still had been gone at two.

Wolf was dying to know what the man had been up to. Whatever it was, if Ben had been trying to find the assassin, he’d either had no luck, or decided not to cut Wolf in on his action.