Page 26 of Paws and Claws

He growled low in his throat but grabbed the clothes. "Fine. Turn around."

"Prude." But she spun to face the wall.

When he finished changing, she turned back and whistled. "Now that's more like it. You almost look dangerous."

"Let's just go." He headed for the door, but she caught his arm.

"We're taking my bike."

"No way."

"Your squad car definitely screams cop even more than your clothes did." She jangled her keys. "And I'm guessing you don't want to take your prized Mustang to that part of town."

He ground his teeth. "Fine."

Outside, she soon straddled her motorcycle, the engine purring to life. "Hop on, big guy. And hold tight."

Dominic climbed on behind her, his hands hesitating before settling on her waist. The heat of her body seeped through her jacket.

"Tighter than that," she said over her shoulder. "Unless you want to fall off."

He pulled her closer, his chest pressed against her back. Her hair tickled his nose, carrying the scent of jasmine and something wild.

"Now that's more like it." She revved the engine. "Try not to let go, Sheriff."

The motorcycle roared to life beneath them as Tabitha accelerated down the empty street. Dominic's hands tightened instinctively around her waist, his fingers pressing into the soft leather of her jacket. The wind whipped through his hair, carrying away the last remnants of his usually rigid control.

His lion stirred inside him, reveling in the raw speed and freedom. The beast had always loved to run, to feel the earth beneath its paws, but this - this was different. This was flying.

Tabitha took a corner at speed, and Dominic leaned with her, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Her hair streamed behind her, tickling his face with strands of purple silk.

"You still with me, Sheriff?" She called over her shoulder, her voice carried away by the wind.

"Just drive," he growled. His heart hammered in his chest, but not from fear. When was the last time he had felt this... alive?

They wove through the darkening streets, the city lights blurring past them like shooting stars. Dominic found himself tracking the subtle shifts of Tabitha's body, the way she telegraphed each turn with a slight lean or twist. His hands stayed firm on her waist, his thumbs brushing against the strip of bare skin where her shirt had ridden up.

All too soon, the neon signs of The Underground came into view. Tabitha cut the engine, letting the bike coast to a stop in front of the bar. The sudden silence felt heavy after the rush of wind and engine noise.

Dominic swung off the bike, his body humming with leftover adrenaline. When he looked up, he caught Tabitha watching him with an expression he'd never seen before - something between surprise and appreciation.

"Well, well," she said, sliding off the bike with fluid grace. "Who knew the straight-laced sheriff could actually let loose? You didn't even flinch when I took that curve on Fifth."

"I've ridden before," he said, running his hand through his wind-tousled hair.

"Sure, but not like that." She stepped closer, reaching up to adjust the collar on his leather jacket. "You actually look... relaxed. It's a good look on you."

Dominic caught her wrist, his thumb pressed against her pulse point. "I think I just needed the right teacher."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with something dangerous and electric. Then she pulled away, clearing her throat. "Come on, Sheriff. We've got work to do."

The moment they stepped inside The Underground, Dominic's shoulders tensed and his spine straightened. His eyes swept the dimly lit space, cataloging exits and potential threats with practiced efficiency.

"Stop that," Tabitha whispered, her fingers brushing his arm. "You're practically screaming 'law enforcement' right now."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do. You're scanning the room like you're about to raid it." She pressed a drink into his hand. "Here. Pretend you're actually here to have fun."

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