1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Seven Page 19

  “Let me help you up,” she said, barely budging him.

  He shook her off. “S’okay. Get me drugs?”

  “Of course.” While she rushed toward the bathroom, Ike heaved himself back onto the sofa, the effort it took to move his ass like he’d just done an extreme weight-lifting workout. “Here you go,” Jess said as she settled next to him on the couch.

  He accepted four little red pills and a glass of water into his hands and choked them down. The water was both a blessing and a curse—the cold brought relief, but even just water against the back of his throat was torture.

  “Lay your head back,” Jess said.

  When he did, she draped a cold, wet washcloth over his head from eyebrows to bald crown. “Fuck,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. She pressed a second cold cloth against the side of his neck.

  Ike groaned. “Don’t be. That helps.”

  “Good.” For a few minutes they sat in silence, Jess moving the rag over his neck, his face, his chest. Touching the one lying on his head, she said, “These are warm already. Let me wet them again.”

  He tried to nod, but the movement sent the room on a Tilt-A-Whirl. Ike wasn’t sure how long it took before the combination of the cold compresses and the Ibuprofen made him feel good enough to stretch out and doze off. What he did know was that every time he woke up, Jess was right there, sitting on the floor beside the couch, ready with more drugs or a soft, soothing touch.

  As the gray light of early morning streamed through the windows, Ike found her asleep with her head resting on her arms by his hip. Shit, she’d sat on the floor all night. For him.

  He pushed himself up onto an elbow. The walls stayed in place, which Ike took as a good sign. As he stood, Jess didn’t react to his movement at all. No doubt she was exhausted after mostly pulling an all-nighter right after being so sick herself. He had to get her off the floor.

  Curling his arms around her back and legs, he lifted. Annnnd the walls started spinning as the floor went wavy beneath his feet.

  “Ike?” Jess grabbed onto his arms, steadying him. How fucking pathetic was he? “Did you fall off the couch again?”

  “Was trying to put you back to bed,” he said, shifting to sit his weak ass down.

  Jess pushed herself up to sit next to him. “In case you didn’t get the memo, it’s my turn to take care of you right now.” Ike dropped his face into his hands on a groan, and Jess’s cool hand massaged his neck. “Oh, my God. You’re so hot.”

  He chuffed out a small laugh. “Why, thank you.”

  Jess chuckled. “You realize you don’t have to fish for compliments, right? Not from me. Because I will straight-up tell you that the sight of your Ravens tat stretched over all these muscles gives me a lady boner.” Her fingers traced the design across his shoulder blades—a spread-winged raven perched on the hilt of a dagger sunk into the eye socket of a skull. The block letters of the club’s name arched over the menacing black bird.

  He threw her some major side-eye. “I know I’m sick because the perverted part of my brain just heard you say my ink gives you a lady boner.”

  She waggled her eyebrows and laughed. The sound was so free and playful, he almost eked out a smile in return. Right before he thanked God that he was too sick to react to her saying something so ridiculously hot. Under any other circumstances, he had no doubt he’d be popping a boner of his own after hearing that spill from her lips.

  “I didn’t know your brain had any other parts,” she said, grinning.

  Fuck, smiling hurt. “Stop making me laugh.”

  “But I like to make you laugh.”

  Ike groaned. “I’m dying.”

  Jess’s expression was full of sympathy. “I know. Think you could stand a cold shower? Might help.”

  He barked out a laugh that turned into a scratchy cough. If she knew the shit that had been going through his head, she’d realize how ironically appropriate her question was. “Yeah, I’ll try that.”

  Ike stood under the cool shower for a long time, his hands braced against the white tile, his head hanging on his shoulders so that the water rained down on his neck. By the time he was done, he was freezing, which he took as a good sign. The fever must’ve broken. At least for now.

  Having just witnessed Jess go through this, he knew it wasn’t likely gone for good. Dried off and wearing a pair of dark-gray boxers, he found her leaning over the kitchen counter eating a blueberry Pop-Tart. “Breakfast of champions,” he said.

  “Pop-Tarts make me happy,” she said around a bite. “Want some?”

  He looked her over from pigtails to short-shorts. He wanted a bite, all right. “Ugh, no. Thanks, though. Happiness is all yours.”

  She chuckled. “Go upstairs and take the bed for the day. The more you sleep, the less aware you’ll be of how shitty you feel.”

  He frowned. “Don’t wanna leave you alone.”

  Jess rolled her eyes. “You’ll be right upstairs.”

  “Fucking hate this,” he said. She nodded, no doubt thinking he meant being sick when what he really meant was not being able to do the job he was here to do—watching over her. Goddamn, he hated giving in to weakness, but the sooner he got better, the sooner he’d have his head back in the game. Finally, he nodded. “All right. Call me if you need me.”

  Chapter 8

  Jess reached her hand into the Doritos bag only to come up empty. She looked inside the foil. Annnd, yup, she’d polished off the whole thing over the course of the day. Oops.

  She was going straight to caloric hell for that.

  So worth it.

  Besides, she hadn’t eaten for the better part of three days, so noshing on the crispy nacho cheese goodness of Doritos was her way of celebrating not dying of the fever from hell.

  Speaking of which…

  Her gaze drifted to the loft. She hadn’t heard from Ike since he’d called down for more medicine around four. It was now pushing ten thirty.

  Jess turned off the TV and cleaned up her mess. In the bathroom, she washed the neon orange off her fingers and brushed her teeth for good measure. And then she went up to check on Ike, meds, water, a wet cloth, and his cell phone in hand—it had buzzed incoming messages all evening.

  When she settled on the bed’s edge, his eyes popped open, bleary and unfocused. “Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve just gone ass over handlebars and eaten some major asphalt,” he rasped, rubbing his hands over his head. “Think it’s getting worse again.”

  “Drugs,” she said, handing over the pill bottle. He swallowed them down.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Going on eleven. Thought you might want to check your messages,” she said. “Phone went off a few times.”

  On a groan, Ike pushed himself up and worked his fingers over the screen. “Shit,” he bit out.

  Dread curled into Jess’s belly. “What happened?”

  “Nothing yet. For some reason the commanding officer from the team’s base in Afghanistan—the one who oversaw their trumped-up discharge from the Army—is in town. And because he was friends with her father, he called Becca and asked to get together. She’s gonna do the meet tomorrow morning. They’re sending her in wired, just in case.” Becca Merritt was Nick’s girlfriend, the daughter of his Special Forces A-Team commander who’d died last year.

  Worry curled into Jess’s belly. She’d gotten to know Becca over the past few weeks. She was nice and sweet and she smoothed Nick’s sometimes too-hard edges. And the woman had been through a fuck-ton already—way more than Jess, that much was for sure. “Man, Nick must be flipping out.”

  “No doubt.” Ike tossed his phone to the mattress beside him. “I’m useless like this. I gotta get out of this bed.” He shifted like he meant to get up.

  Jess planted a hand in the center of his red-hot chest. And not the good kinda hot, either. “Not ’til you’re better.” The fact that she was able to so easily push him ba
ck down proved he still needed to be in this bed.

  He sagged back into the mattress and his eyelids fell closed. “Don’t like being apart from you.”

  Even though she knew he meant that in the protective sense, warmth still bloomed inside her chest. “Want me to stay?” she asked.

  His lids flipped up and those dark-brown eyes peered up at her. “Yes.”

  He was sick and flat on his back, but something about the quickness of his answer and the intensity of his gaze sent a ripple of awareness through her body. “Well, then scooch over, ya big lug.”

  “You say the sweetest things,” he said, voice like gravel.

  “I know, right? I’m such a peach.” Jess stretched out beside him, just barely resisting the urge to curl into all that hard muscle and inked skin. But it wasn’t like she could still use the excuse that she needed to steal his body heat.

  He stretched out an arm toward her and patted his chest. “C’mere.”

  “I don’t want to make you too hot.” She said the words even though she really didn’t want him to change his mind.

  “You make me feel good,” he murmured.

  Jess settled right into the side of his body, not minding the heat radiating off of him one bit. She tried not to feel so pleased by what he’d said. She really did. But she was pretty much giddy inside.

  The sigh he released was full of comfort and satisfaction. Because of her.

  Gah!

  Okay, Jess. Don’t be ridiculous.

  She’d still been talking herself down from reading into his words and actions when she’d apparently drifted off to sleep…

  Voices woke her. No, one voice.

  Ike. Talking and restless in his sleep. She couldn’t understand the slurred words, so she turned onto her back and closed her eyes. Ike’s body followed hers. He turned on his side and curled himself around her—close enough to feel that his cock was totally hard against her thigh.

  The heat that shot over her body had nothing to do with Ike’s fever.

  God, he felt big and thick against her. Her hands itched to stroke him. She licked her lips, her mouth hungry to feel his heaviness on her tongue, against the back of her throat. She shifted her hips, her core clenching at the thought of feeling him penetrate her, open her, ride her. Hard.

  Nearly holding her breath, Jess stayed still. His erection would go away and her heart would stop racing, and then she’d fall back to sleep and forget this ever happened.

  As if. In the dark, she rolled her eyes at herself.

  There were cocks and then there were cocks. This one did not feel forgettable, thank you very much.

  “Jess,” Ike whispered.

  “Uh, hey.” Because it wasn’t weird at all for them to talk while his hard-on was touching her.

  No answer. And then: “Fuck, Jess.” His hips rocked, grinding his erection against her thigh. He released a rough breath and nuzzled his face against hers. His lips dragged across her cheek until he was pressing his lips against her ear.

  Holy fucking shit.

  “Uh, Ike?” she said. Was he awake? If not, did she want him to be?

  A hand dragged up her stomach, pulling her tank top with it. He squeezed her breast, hips grinding, harsh breaths in her ear.

  My God, she was gonna die from how fucking hot this was.

  He mumbled something that sounded a helluva lot like “need you,” and Jess was pretty damn sure if he kept this up, she was going to come without him getting anywhere near her clit.

  Not to mention, if he was dreaming about being with her and needing her, what did that even mean? Something? Nothing? Everything?

  He didn’t give her time to debate it. Ike shifted, his body rolling partially on top of her. It was too much weight on her thigh and knee, which she forced up and out from under him—unintentionally putting her thigh under his waist and his big body between her legs.

  He rocked against her, but this time his cock ground against the very top of her thigh. Fuck, so close to where she was absolutely throbbing for him.

  She didn’t want this to stop, but she couldn’t let it go on, either. Could she?

  The blunt head of his cock pushed closer to home, and the only thing separating them was the cotton of his boxers and the silk of her sleep shorts. On the next thrust, his length ghosted over her clit. But it was enough to make her moan out loud and clutch at his shoulder.

  “Aw, yeah. S’good,” he whispered, his hot, sweaty cheek pressed against hers. God, he was on fire. What if he realized this happened and regretted it?

  What if you regret it? No, she wouldn’t. If this was all she would ever get of him, she’d tuck the memory away somewhere deep inside her and hold on to it tight.

  Ike’s hips moved a little faster, shifted closer, ground harder, until his cock stroked her pussy on every single thrust.

  Fuck it.

  Jess dug her nails into his shoulders and met his hips thrust for thrust. “Yes, Ike,” she cried.

  His movements slowed. Stopped. And then every single part of his body went rigid.

  “Don’t you fucking stop,” she said, breathing hard. “I’m so close to coming I might die.”

  “Jess—”

  “Ike, you want me. I want you. So have me. It doesn’t have to be more than what it is,” she said, an uncomfortable twinge going off in her chest. But Jess didn’t care. The pleasure would be worth whatever pain she’d carry from knowing how good they were together while being denied anything more.

  “I didn’t mean to…” His words drifted off and he trembled above her, as if holding still took great effort.

  But Jess was done with Ike holding himself back. “I know. I don’t care. I need to come.” She kissed his forehead, his cheek, his ear. “Please make me come.”

  * * * *

  The room spun. His brain was dazed. His feverish body was strung tight.

  And Jess was begging him for something he’d yearned to give for so fucking long.

  Ike hadn’t meant to start this, but now that he had, he couldn’t seem to make himself do the right thing. More than that, he could no longer figure out what the right thing was in the first place.

  His head hurt, making it so hard to think.

  So he followed his gut and went with feeling instead.

  “Not like this,” he said, pushing himself down the bed. If he was going there, he was going all the way. His movements were jerky and imprecise, but his hands fumbled their way to stripping her bare. He wished the light was on so he could see her, but maybe the darkness was better. It made it feel more like the dream he’d thought it was.

  Goddamned coward.

  He shoved the thoughts away as he pushed Jess’s thighs wide. “Thought of this so many fucking times,” he said. And then he was done with talking. He absolutely feasted on her. Licking her cunt, plunging his tongue deep, sucking her clit—her goddamned pierced clit. Over and over.

  “Ike,” she screamed, his name turning into a low moan as her thighs tried to close around his head.

  Her muscles pulsed and she came on his tongue. He sucked down every delicious drop.

  It was like he’d been starving and now that he’d had a bite of food, he needed to gorge himself in case he never had more. The minute her body stilled, he dove right back in, his lips sucking her clit while his tongue strummed it, toying with the little hoop piercing there. She was so wet he could easily sink two fingers inside her, then three. Jess whimpered and moaned, clutched and pressed at his head, rocked her hips and rode his fingers. Fuck. He knew she’d be like this—passionate and fierce and unapologetic in her pleasure. It was goddamned fantastic.

  His cock was hard as a rock and his balls ached with need, but he’d be content giving her as many orgasms as she could stand having. Her juices ran down onto his hand and he slipped in a fourth finger, nearly fisting her.

  “Fuck, yes,” she cried. “Damn that’s good, Ike.”

  He couldn’t agree more. He lost count of how many times she cam
e on his mouth and fingers, but at some point he became aware that she was whimpering and almost chanting something under her breath.

  “Fuck me. Fuck me. Please fuck me. Oh, God, I want you to fuck me.”

  “Jess?”

  “Jesus, Ike, get in me. Please.”

  The plea hit him in the gut, making him want nothing more than to satisfy her. But hadn’t he already taken more than he should?

  Chapter 9

  Jess was too needy to worry about pride, and they’d gone too far to avoid things getting awkward between them if that was going to happen. She needed him inside her, just this once.

  “I want to fuck you, trust me,” Ike said, voice gritty. “But I’m…that’s what it would be for me. So I get it if—”

  “That’s what it would be for me, too,” she lied. “Just for tonight. As often and in any way that you want. In the morning, it’ll all have been a fevered dream,” she rushed out, her mind racing. “And we’ll be the same friends we were yesterday.” She nearly held her breath waiting for him to make up his mind.

  And then he was pushing off his boxers, climbing up her body, mounting her. There was no pretense about it. His cock found her opening and sank deep. Jess’s head snapped back into the pillow on a long moan because, omigod, him being inside her was a total freaking rush—one Jess had never thought would happen. And, God, he was big. It was so damn good, so much better than she’d dreamed.

  “Fuck, that’s a tight little pussy,” Ike ground out—and then he froze. “Shit, protection.”

  “On birth control,” she said, wrapping her legs around his hips. Now that she had him, she wasn’t letting go. “Take me, Ike. Don’t hold back.” Just this once.

  He didn’t. He plowed into her like there was a place inside her he needed to get to but couldn’t quite reach. His pubic bone pounded into her clit, her piercing making her so freaking sensitive. His balls smacked against her ass. His hands groped and squeezed and gripped her body—her breasts, her shoulders, her hair.