1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Seven Page 14

  It was all too damn much.

  “Wow, Ike. Thanks for clarifying how serious this situation is. Because I was really confused about what the guys with the guns ransacking my apartment last night meant. So much clearer now.” She crossed her tattooed arms over her chest and nailed Ike with a glare. Anger felt so much better than fear.

  Ike’s gaze narrowed, but then his face relaxed and his shoulders dropped. “Fuck. Didn’t mean to—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she said, blinking the sting out of her eyes. No way was she crying in front of Ike. He already treated her like an overprotective big brother as it was. And that was really freaking annoying because it meant her fantasies of climbing him like a tree and having her wily way with him weren’t ever coming true. Unrequited lust sucked big hairy donkey balls. “So, what’s three?”

  “No cell phone, no e-mail, no using credit cards,” he said in a gentler tone. “In fact, give me your cell. Just to be sure.”

  The only reason Jess didn’t gripe was because she knew enough about Nick and Jeremy’s über-scary mercenary enemies to know they could probably find her easier than she wanted to think about if she didn’t stay off the grid. She fished the smartphone from her bra and smacked it into Ike’s palm.

  His eyebrow arched as his gaze moved from the phone to her breasts and back again.

  “What?” she asked, more comfortable with him ogling her boobs than giving her that serious, concerned look he wore a moment ago. “I was afraid it would fall out of my back pocket on the bike.”

  Ike shook his head and slipped the cell into the pocket of his jeans. Which immediately made Jess jealous of her phone because her hands would burrow the fuck into those jeans if he gave her half a chance.

  But alas…

  “Anything else, warden?” she asked.

  “You’re not funny,” he said.

  “I’m a little funny,” she said.

  “You’re a little pain in my ass,” he said.

  Jess schooled her expression. Because she wouldn’t be surprised if there was more than a little truth behind his words. She and Ike had worked together for years and become friends, but all this was way, way above and beyond. When the scumbags who’d broken into her home finally left last night, she’d been too scared to come out of the crawl space behind her closet and hadn’t been sure who she should trust. The police were out because Jeremy and Nick had learned that the authorities were in bed with at least some of the bad guys who’d attacked Hard Ink. It was mindboggling to believe that an international drug ring that had injured Nick and killed six of his Special Forces teammates in Afghanistan over a year ago had spilled over into Baltimore. And that Nick’s investigation with his surviving SF teammates that had been operating out of the Hard Ink tattoo shop had exploded all over Jess’s life. But that’s exactly what was happening.

  Crouched in the dusty darkness of the crawl space, she’d finally settled on calling Ike. Given his protectiveness of her, his all-around bad-assness, and that he already knew all about the Rixeys’ troubles, he’d seemed like the natural choice. But when she’d called, she’d never expected the barely restrained rage that vibrated off Ike as he gently coaxed her from her hiding place, nor the way he tugged her into his arms and just held her once she was out. And she’d certainly never expected him to put his whole life on hold like this. For her. “Yeah, well,” she said, forcing the thoughts away. “I’ll try harder next time.”

  Ike’s smirk held a hint of amusement for the first time since they’d arrived. “No doubt. So, last rule. No busting my balls.”

  “I wholly object to that one. I’m already going to die of boredom out here. You have to let me have some fun.”

  Ike got right up in her space, so close that she had to tilt her head way back to look him in the eye. “You think I don’t see how you use humor to deflect when you’re scared? But I see it, Jess. I see you. So let me be clear. You are not gonna die. Not on my watch.”

  A riot of reaction erupted inside Jess’s head. The uncertainty of being laid so bare. The scary satisfaction of being seen when Jess always worked so hard to only reveal what she wanted of herself. The red-hot lust caused by Ike’s hard body being pressed so close to hers.

  Despite the heat inside the house, Jess nearly shivered at the intensity Ike was throwing off. She became aware of him the way you become aware of the electricity in the air before a summer storm—slowly, insistently, magnetically. Her lips parted as she scrambled for a response, but her nipples were pebbling against his chest, which made her wonder if he’d be able to feel her piercings there.

  Ike took a small step backward, but it was enough to break the crazy physical connection pinging between them. Had he felt it too?

  “Okay, so, no dying,” she said. To her own ears, her voice sounded like a throaty purr. “And, um—” She swallowed hard, trying to gather her wits about her. “—the boredom part?” She peered up at him, hoping against hope that she wasn’t the only one as affected by whatever had just passed between them.

  Ike’s eyes narrowed as if he was on to her game. “Nick and his team know what they’re doing. Hopefully this situation will get resolved fast and you won’t have to be here that long.”

  “Right,” she said. Jess hoped that, too. She wanted her friends safe and their enemies to be gone. For good. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if Ike was eager for her to be out of here. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never been to his apartment in the city, nor had he ever invited her out to the Ravens’ compound for any of their parties or the races they ran at their dirt racetrack. It had always felt like, on some level, Ike held her at a distance. No doubt a guy as hot as Ike had plenty of offers, but Jess didn’t think his reserve with her was because he had a girlfriend tucked away somewhere. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never once heard him mention a relationship, nor had he ever brought anyone around. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that there was a part of his world he didn’t want to share—with her, at least.

  And now, here they were for the first time ever, hidden away from the world in a tiny cabin. All alone.

  Get a grip, Jess. This isn’t some romantic cabin getaway.

  Right. Ike wasn’t here with her because he wanted to spend time with her, he was here because she’d asked for his help, because he was a good guy, and because he knew she needed protection.

  When Nick’s team finished its investigation and nailed their enemies, she’d go back to her regular life, and she and Ike would go back to being friendly colleagues with tons of sexual tension and flirty innuendo buzzing between them. It was already embarrassing enough that everyone knew she’d unknowingly slept with one of the bad guys. The last thing she needed while they were stuck together here was to make it clear just how much she wanted and cared about Ike—not just as a friend, or even a friend with benefits—which she’d half-jokingly suggested once in a moment of tipsy weakness. No, she wanted Ike much more than any of that. Despite the fact that she had no chance with him whatsoever.

  Which meant Jess needed to put her fantasies about Ike Young aside. Once and for all.

  Chapter 2

  Ike needed to get the hell out of there before he ended up giving Jess a hands-on demonstration of all the ways he could distract her from the shit storm that had become their lives. Because a distraction of the his-skin-on-her-skin variety was the last thing either of them needed.

  No matter how hot Jessica Jakes was—and she was like goddamn molten lava with her tight little body, inked porcelain skin, and smart mouth—she was precisely the kind of woman Ike had vowed never to get twisted up with again. A woman in trouble.

  Been there, done that, still had the shrapnel lodged in his heart. Fuck you very much.

  Even if Jess did have piercings in places Ike would’ve given his left ball to see and tongue and suck. Just once. And even if she looked at him with all kinds of invitation in her eyes. Which she was doing. Right now.

  But he couldn’t ju
st drop her there and run without at least showing her around the place. He wanted her to feel comfortable for however long they had to be there.

  “So, here’s the dime tour,” Ike said. “TV has cable.” He pointed to the flat-screen that hung over the fireplace, then crossed the room toward the kitchen. He pointed to cabinets and drawers as he spoke. “Cups. Plates and bowls. Silverware. Basically, just feel free to poke around for whatever you need.” One by one, Ike unlocked and lifted the sashes to two windows in the kitchen. “There’s no air conditioning here, but the breeze off the mountain usually keeps it comfortable.”

  “No worries,” Jess said, her eyes following him as he moved around the open space of the main floor. “I don’t mind the heat. We didn’t have air conditioning when I was growing up, so I’m kinda used to it.”

  Ike nodded. “It’ll be nice in here at night, though.” Next, he opened the window to the left of the fireplace, and the cross-breeze immediately swept through the cabin. Work as the club’s betting officer—the man who took off-site bets on the Ravens’ racing events, and collected debts when owed—originally sent him to Baltimore six years ago, and then his job at Hard Ink made it a permanent move. Right from the start, Ike had been into Jess, but he figured the daughter of a cop, even recently deceased as he’d been then, was the last person he wanted to bring into the Ravens’ fold. They weren’t outlaws, but they weren’t angels, either.

  He breathed in the clean air coming through the window. Four years later, the city had become home, but Ike always appreciated any chance to get away from the grind and return to the peace and quiet of the mountains, and to his brothers in the club.

  He just wished he was there under better circumstances.

  Shoving the thought away, he reached into the small room beside the stairs and flicked on the light switch. “Bathroom. There are some towels under the sink.”

  “And the bedrooms are upstairs?” she asked.

  “It’s a loft,” Ike said, nodding her toward the steps. The second floor had a pitched ceiling that followed the slope of the roof, and one wall that stood only waist-high, making it so that you could look down onto the living room and kitchen table. A queen-sized bed filled most of the brown-paneled space. A small nightstand and a stuffed brown armchair made up the only other furniture in the room.

  Jess’s gaze took in the small room, and Ike could see the question on her face before she gave voice to it.

  “This will be yours,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the couch. My clothes are in the closet there, but I’ll pull some things out so you can have privacy.”

  Jess’s eyes cut from the bed to him. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Jess—”

  “You’re way bigger than me. I’ll be more comfortable there than you will.”

  Ike shook his head. The last thing he needed was to be able to see her as she slept. “This is yours for as long as you’re here.”

  “Ike, you’re already doing enough for me.”

  “If I was doing enough, you wouldn’t be in trouble in the first place.” Ike wanted to bite back the words the second they escaped his mouth. Jess didn’t need to know how protective he was of her and how much he really cared. Just the memory of the fear in her voice when she’d called last night and how badly she was shaking when he’d pulled her out of her closet made his blood boil.

  Her brow furrowed and she stepped closer. “How were you supposed to know this would happen?”

  “Given the situation, I should’ve planned for the worst-case scenario and had you stay at Hard Ink with everyone else. Jeremy’s employees being targeted for information wasn’t that big of a leap.”

  “Ike,” Jess said, compassion and affection plain in her voice. She closed the gap between them and rested her hand against his chest. The soft touch shot through him, setting his body on edge and making him want so much more. “None of this was your fault. You can’t think that it was.”

  He wasn’t going to debate it with her. Ike wasn’t a boy looking to duck his responsibilities, he was a thirty-five-year-old man who fully owned it when he’d fucked up. Because, Jesus Christ, when he fucked up, he did it spectacularly. What happened to Lana proved that. And the same thing had almost happened to Jess. What would Jess think if she ever learned Lana had died on his watch? How safe would she feel right now if she knew how badly he’d let another woman down?

  Sonofabitch.

  Jessica’s hand gripped his shirt, and she softly beat her fist against his chest. “Ike, tell me you know I’m right.”

  Ike cupped her fist in his big hand and pressed her fingers against his chest. For just a moment. Problem was, he liked her touch. He wanted more of it. And restraint had never been his strong suit.

  He looked over her shoulder to the bed. In his mind’s eye, he walked her backward toward it, his hands in her hair and his mouth claiming hers. Desire roared through him.

  Shit. Time to fly.

  “Listen, I haven’t been up here for a while,” Ike said, giving her hand a squeeze and then stepping away, breaking the contact. “I need to pick up some food for us. Any special requests?”

  “Aw, look at you being all domestic,” Jess said, a playful, ball-busting grin on her full red lips. “I’m seeing a whole other side of you.”

  Ike rolled his eyes, pretending like he didn’t enjoy her taunting even though he did. Jess was fun and adventurous and the kind of woman who grabbed life with both hands and didn’t let go. She played hard and loved freely, and he admired her for both. She didn’t let other people’s expectations run her life or set her agenda. She wore her heart on her face and in her eyes and on her skin. And she was brave and loyal, too—things that meant everything in his world. Those were core tenets of the code by which the Ravens lived and died.

  “What-the-fuck-ever,” Ike said, starting down the steps. He needed some distance from her. And he sure as hell needed to get his head on straight and his body under control. “Just some damn groceries. You have special requests or not?”

  Her footsteps followed behind him. “I’ll just go with you—”

  “No,” he said, his tone harsher than he’d intended. He turned to watch her make her way down.

  Standing on the next-to-last step, Jess planted her hands on her curvy hips. Hips that would feel so damn good in his hands, provided he ever let himself off the leash where she was concerned. Which he hadn’t. And wouldn’t. “Why the hell not?” she asked, brown eyes flashing.

  Shaking his head, Ike gave Jess’s body a long, slow once-over, from her wavy red-streaked black hair, to the fucking luscious cleavage created by the red lace push-up bra she wore under the form-fitting black V-neck shirt, to the knee-high Goth boots she wore over a pair of torn-up black jeans that wrapped around her thighs like a second skin. Against all the black, the color of the tattoos on her arms and chest stood out like sun breaking through the clouds.

  That his hands had put a lot of that ink on her skin? Made him more possessive of her than he had any right to be.

  “Can’t chance having the wrong person notice and identify you. You don’t exactly blend in to the crowd.” Understatement of the year, right there.

  She smirked. “I can tone it down when the situation calls for it.”

  Ike immediately hated the thought. Jess was loud, vivid Technicolor in an in-your-face kinda way. Exactly the way it should be. “Not a chance. You could shave your head and wear a paper bag and I’d still know exactly who you were from a football field away.”

  “Ooh, kinky.” Her smirk slid into a sexy grin.

  Her word choice sent Ike’s brain to all kinds of places it didn’t need to be. Like envisioning Jess ass-up over his bike wearing only her ink and a pair of heels while he buried himself deep from behind, or imagining Jess with a ball gag taming that smart-ass mouth of hers while he made her come with his mouth and cock until she was boneless and more satisfied than she’d even been in her life. With black fastening straps and a red ball, the gag woul
d match her hair. Something about that image pleased him greatly. And proved he’d fantasized about it a few times before today. Okay, a few thousand times. Whatever.

  Did he always have to be so fucking attracted to women in trouble? Because he wasn’t any fucking white knight, that was for damn sure. Cop father and friends, drug-addict-cop-killing friends, stalkerish ex-lovers who wanted more—Jess had been in one form of trouble or another for as long as Ike had known her. “Special requests or not, Jakes? Jesus Christmas.”

  She laughed, and Ike tried to ignore the way it lit him up inside. Despite her size, Jess had a big belly laugh so infectious it could make you chuckle even if you weren’t in on the joke. Sometimes it even included snorts that would set her off laughing even harder. “You’re too easy to rile up,” she said through her laughter. Finally, she calmed enough to add, “Okay, okay. I’ll be serious. Let’s see…I’d love it if you could get iced blueberry Pop-Tarts or Lucky Charms for breakfast, and, like, pepperoni pizza Hot Pockets for lunch and dinner. Oh, and diet Coke. That would be awesome.”

  Ike frowned. “Anything else?”

  Her eyes went distant for a second and then wide with excitement. “Oh, Doritos, too, please. Might need a couple of bags.”

  “Why do I feel like I’m talking to a nineteen-year-old frat boy right now?” he asked.

  “Dude, you asked what I wanted. I can’t help my junk food proclivities. I’m a terrible cook and Hot Pockets are freaking good. But wait. How are you going to get all that on the bike?”

  Ike shook his head and pulled a key ring from his pocket. “I’m not. I’ve got a truck in the garage.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I really would come help.”

  “I know you would. Just stay put. I won’t be gone long. Use the house phone if you need me.” He pointed toward the end of the kitchen counter, where the handset for the landline sat.

  “I will,” she said quietly, looking over her shoulder toward the phone.

  Something about her tone made Ike pause, despite the fact that he could really use a breather from the sexual tension that always seemed to crackle between them no matter how unaffected he tried to act. “You okay being alone?”