In the Company of Wolves (SWAT, #3)(17)

She nodded, gesturing for him to walk ahead of her, then followed as he turned and led her back in the direction they’d come. She kept her distance, still cautious he might try something, though she wasn’t sure what. And as fast as he could move, she wasn’t sure she could stop him if he did try something.

She was surprised when he turned in a public parking lot after a few blocks. But the bigger surprise came when they stopped in front of an expensive-looking red-and-black Harley. That’s when she remembered him saying something about having a bike. She’d been so freaked over him knowing her name, she must have missed that little detail.

He undid the chin straps on the helmet attached to the small square of leather-covered cushion that constituted a backseat. How did he expect her to sit on that? It would be like balancing her butt on a piece of two-by-four. She was just realizing the small seat probably meant she was going to have to put her arms around him if she wanted to stay on the bike when another thought popped into her head.

“Did you park here knowing I’d run this way or is it just coincidence?”

She hoped it was the latter. If this guy was so good that he could figure out which way she was going to run before she even decided herself, she was completely screwed.

He handed her the helmet, then got on the bike. “A little bit of both actually. I was hoping you wouldn’t run, but if you did, I figured it’d be down this way.”

“But how did you know I’d stop?” she asked.

He tilted the bike to the side and used his heel to shove up the kickstand, then turned that devastating smile on her. “Honestly, I expected you to get tired and stop well before we got here. But you’re in better shape than I gave you credit for, and a hell of a lot faster.” He motioned with his chin toward the back of the bike. “Get on. I promise not to bite—unless you ask nicely.”

As she eyed the small backseat, she realized she should have probably been insulted by that comment about being in better shape than he thought. But she got the feeling he was trying to give her a compliment. Strangely, she found herself liking the silly idea that he thought she was fast. But just because she appreciated his compliment, that didn’t mean she was ready to jump on the bike with him yet.

“How do I know you won’t just take me to the nearest police station?” she asked.

He pushed a switch, making the bike rumble and vibrate. She’d never been on a motorcycle before, hadn’t even stood this close to one while it was running. It felt powerful.

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me,” he said. “Besides, if I wanted to arrest you, I would have done it already.”

Jayna couldn’t argue with that. She put on the helmet, then cinched the chin strap and climbed on the bike.

“Why aren’t you wearing a helmet too?” she asked as she tried to figure out how to position her feet on the metal pegs below her and where to put her hands. She finally reached around and twisted her hands into the material of his hoodie, just above his hips. She couldn’t help but notice the rippling of his abs and hip flexors as he pushed the heavy bike backward out of the parking space.

He grinned at her over his shoulder. “I only have one helmet and I figure it’s more important to protect your pretty face than my ugly mug.”

She found herself smiling back at him. It had been a long time since any guy had thrown so many compliments her way, even ones so cheesy. But cheesy or not, she appreciated them.

Eric pulled the bike out onto the road, heading back toward Canton Street and the center of the city. She almost fell off as he sped up, and she had no choice but to lean in closer and wrap her arms more firmly around his waist. Not only did it press her breasts tightly against his muscular back, but it also put her hands really close to a part of his body she refused to let herself think about. She focused on his scent instead. He smelled even better than he had in the warehouse, and it wasn’t long before she had to lick her lips to keep from drooling. What was going on? She’d never felt like this around a guy before, not even another werewolf.

After a few minutes of zipping in and out of traffic, she had to admit this motorcycle thing was more fun than she’d expected. Being able to see the road racing by under her feet while the wind whipped across her face and through her hair was pretty cool. It was a lot like the sensation of freedom she felt when she got out in the country and could run as fast as she wanted. It made her feel like she could outrun all the problems waiting for her back at the loft.

She was almost disappointed when the bike slowed and Eric turned into the parking lot of another Starbucks. They were less than two miles from the loft, but it was far enough off the main road that there wasn’t much chance of anyone she knew stumbling on them.

By the time Eric ordered their drinks, she’d gotten most of his scent out of her nose and cleared her head enough to think straight. The ride had been nice, but there were some things she needed to know—now.

“So, Cop. How did you find me?” she asked the moment they sat down at a table in the corner.

He took a sip of his boring black coffee before answering. Why go to a Starbucks and order plain coffee? That was like going to a pizza place and ordering a cheese sandwich.

“Like I said, the name’s Eric,” he said as he set down his cup. “But my friends call me Becker.”

“Okay, how did you find me…Eric?”