Free Hot Pursuit by Lorie O'Clare Page A

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