Hard As Steel: A Hard Ink/Raven Riders Crossover (1001 Dark Nights) (2 page)

“What’s funny?” Ike asked, eyeballing her as he scrubbed his hand over his bald head.

Jess gave Ike a long, appreciative glance—and there was so damn much to see. Besides being
way
over six-feet tall, Ike had a black abstract tribal inked onto the left side of his head, the sharp blades of another abstract tribal reaching out of the collar of his black T-shirt, and tattooed sleeves running down both muscled arms. He was a feast for her eyes. One that her hands and mouth had always longed to join.

“Nothing’s funny. Your house is just so…cute.” She released her helmet into Ike’s big hand.

He frowned as he looked at the house, like he was trying to see it through her eyes. “It’s not cute. It’s a damn cabin.”

Jess smirked. “Okay, well, it’s a cute cabin then. Do you even fit inside this place? Because standing next to it, you look even freakishly bigger than usual.”

Of course, most everyone looked big compared to Jess. At five foot one inch tall, she made up for in snark what she lacked in height. But that was okay, because she
liked
big. Ike’s kinda big.

Ike shook his head and gave her a droll stare, then turned to pull her duffle from a leather saddlebag on the back of the bike. He hiked her bag over his shoulder. “House rules for as long as we’re here,” he said, staring down at her with those piercing, dark eyes. “One. No leaving without my permission—”

“Where would I even—”

“Two.” His eyebrow arched, and he nodded toward the porch, beckoning her to follow. “If anyone comes to the house, stay out of sight.”

Jess climbed the two steps and waited while Ike unlocked the door—at three different places. Under any other circumstances, she’d have teased him about being overly cautious, but given her current situation, those locks seemed more reassuring than funny. “Anything else, boss man?” she asked with more bravado than she felt.

“Yeah.” He pushed open the door, then stood aside and gestured for her to go first.

She stepped inside, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dimness. The house was warm from being closed up, the air still.

Ike turned on a lamp, casting golden light over the small first floor. The living room consisted of an overstuffed brown couch facing a rustic stone fireplace. A flat-screen television hung over the mantle. A console table sat behind the couch, and not too far from that a two-seater wooden table made up the entirety of the dining room. With its white appliances, cabinets, and Formica countertop, the galley-style kitchen was old school all the way, but clean and neat. Brown paneled walls, wide plank floors, and exposed wooden beams made the house feel like the cabin Ike said it was.

Still cute, though.

A series of clicks brought Jess’s gaze to the locks on the door.

You’re safe, Jess. You’re with Ike, out of the city, away from…whoever the hell broke into your house and tried to grab you. Just breathe.

Right. Breathing. Check.

Except, she couldn’t help but feel that she’d brought this whole damn situation on herself. Still, how the hell was she supposed to know that the man she’d picked up at a bar last Friday night had been a bad guy intent on using her to get to her friends? Just thinking of it made her skin crawl and her stomach toss.

“Three,” Ike said, apparently not realizing she was having a mini-meltdown in the middle of his living room.

“Three? I might need to write these down,” she quipped, hoping her voice sounded lighter than her chest felt. Because Jess
hated
to be scared. She despised feeling helpless and cornered and trapped. Once, she’d fallen apart and let fear get the best of her.

Never again.

Ike was in front of her in an instant, a scowling, unamused wall of muscle and ink. “I’m not fucking around here, Jessica. Take something seriously. For once.”

Sweat dampened her neck under her long hair, and anger lanced through Jess’s chest until her bones nearly vibrated with it. Anger about the danger Jeremy and Nick Rixey—her employers and friends for the past four years—were in. Anger about the fact that their tattoo shop had been bombed and closed…until God only knew when. Anger that her own house was a shambles, too, after a middle-of-the-night invasion that sent her scurrying like an animal into the crawl space at the back of her bedroom closet.

Anger about being targeted and used and hunted by the very animals that had attempted to hurt her friends.

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 just 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.