Hard As Steel: A Hard Ink/Raven Riders Crossover (1001 Dark Nights) (8 page)

She threw a smirk over her shoulder and he shook his head.

When she was clean and dressed in actual clothes for what felt like the first time in forever, she met Ike in the kitchen where she found two plates on the counter. One with very lightly buttered toast and a banana, the other with a big-ass ham and cheese sandwich and a mound of Doritos.
Her
Doritos.

She planted her hands on the counter. “That is so not fair, Ike Young.”

He scooped the plates up and transferred them to the table. “Better?” he asked, throwing a single chip onto her plate.

“You are not funny,” she said, glaring at him as she sank into the seat.

He held his hand up, thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart. “I’m a little funny,” he said, stealing her words from the day they’d arrived.

“Have you heard from anyone at Hard Ink?” she asked as she took a bite of her toast. Amazing how something so simple could taste like heaven after days of not eating much.

“I’ve talked to Dare a few times. Seems like things are in a holding pattern right now as they track down some leads. Guys are getting antsy.” Ike tossed a chip in his mouth and made a big show of enjoying it.

“You suck,” Jess said. “Better save me some, too.”

Ike chuckled and gave her a wink. “I bought three bags.”

“Good.” They ate in silence for a few minutes as Jess wolfed down her food. When she was done, she brushed off her fingers over the plate. “I’m worried about everyone.”

“Nick and his team know what they’re doing, and the Ravens can handle themselves. Don’t worry.” Ike gave her a look full of confidence.

It helped. Jess nodded. “I know. But these aren’t any run-of-the-mill criminals they’re up against.”

“True enough,” he said. “But the neighborhood around Hard Ink has been cordoned off and no one is getting in or out without our guys knowing it.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “It’s just…” Jess hesitated to finish the thought, but given the danger they were all in, it felt like it should be said. “You and Jeremy, and even Nick…you guys have become my family the past few years. And I couldn’t take it if anything happened to any of you.”

Chapter 7

The only thing Ike didn’t like about Jess feeling better was that he no longer had an excuse to sleep with her. Selfish bastard.

They’d been sitting on the couch for a few hours trying to find something to watch. Cop and military type shows were out—too much like real life.
The Walking Dead
marathon was out, because people you liked always died on that show—too much like what they feared life might become. Ike had suggested the
World Series of Poker
, but Jess thought watching people play cards was boring. She’d suggested a dancing reality show, but Ike put the kibosh on that idea with a single look. Ike’s desire to put off sleeping alone again had him finally agreeing to a house hunting show Jess liked where the couple saw three houses and had to decide which to buy.

Ike’s conclusion: people were idiots sometimes.

“Should’ve picked the older house. More character,” he said.

“Right?” Jess said, smiling. “You can fix up an older house, but it’s harder to give a newer house that kind of character.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” he said, giving her a wink.

“Because I’m awesome.” She turned toward him on the couch and propped her elbow on the back of the couch.

Well, Ike couldn’t disagree with that, but he probably
shouldn’t
agree with it either. Lest it lead them into saying—or doing—things they probably shouldn’t. Now that Jess was feeling better, Ike’s brain kept resurrecting the memory of their fucking amazing kiss as Ike had carried her to the loft. And his body was completely on board with the idea of picking up where they’d left off.

Ike stretched his arms over his head and yawned so big his jaw cracked. “Man, I’m dragging.”

Jess peered up at him. “Can’t imagine why. It’s not like you’ve lost any sleep the past couple days while taking care of anyone.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know if you remember me telling you this the other night, but I really didn’t mind, Jess. Still don’t.”

She nodded, her gaze assessing, maybe even hopeful. “You know, you could still sleep in the bed if you want.”

Oh, he wanted, all right. “Nah. Be fine here.”

Hell, if the disappointment that flickered across her face wasn’t a kick in the gut. But he was doing the right thing for both of them. Besides, he’d rather have Jess in his life as a friend—even if he wanted more—than fuck things up with her one way or another and lose her altogether.

Her words from before still echoed in his head.
You guys have become my family the past few years. And I couldn’t take it if anything happened to any of you.

Ike felt the same way about her and Jeremy. Since he saw and worked with them every day at Hard Ink, he’d come to be as close to them as he was with the Ravens, who he’d known for over a decade.

And Ike knew for goddamned sure that he wouldn’t be able to take it if anything happened to Jeremy or Jess, but especially Jess—whose safety and protection rested squarely on his shoulders.

Thus why he would not be sleeping in the bed again.

“Okay, then,” she said, rising. “I’ll go up so you can get some rest. Besides, I want lots of sleep tonight so I have enough energy to sit on the couch all day tomorrow eating Doritos and watching trash TV.”

“It’s important to have goals,” Ike said, shaking his head.

Jess chuckled. “My thoughts exactly.”

When she disappeared into the bathroom, Ike took the opportunity to grab a pillow and blanket from the closet in the loft as well as something to sleep in and clothes for the morning. By the time she came out, her wavy red and black hair pulled into two low pigtails that sent Ike’s thoughts right into the gutter, he’d made up a bed on the couch.

“Night,” she said, heading up the steps.

“Night,” he replied, watching her hips sway in a pair of silky black shorts. Combined with the form-fitting black tank top and those perfect-for-grabbing pigtails, she was going to make it damn hard for him to fall asleep tonight.

Damn hard, indeed.

 He turned out the light and went horizontal, the soft couch so comfortable against his sore back even though it was a little too short to fit his whole body. He adjusted his erection, willing it to get with the no-sex-with-Jess program. Problem was, in the quiet darkness, Ike could hear her moving around in the loft. Soft footsteps on the wood floor. The shifting of covers. The squeaking of the box spring. And all that did was invite his imagination out to play. Easy, since he had so much material to work with after sleeping with Jess wrapped around him the past two nights.

His shoulders and chest knew what the silk of her hair felt like when it skimmed over his skin. His hip knew the heat of her core when she slept with her knee across his thighs. His hands had memorized the curve of her lower back and the shape of her biceps and just how much of her luscious ass he could fit in his palms.

Ike knew what her mouth tasted like, how tight her legs could wrap around his waist, and how fucking beautiful the combination of ink and steel was on her skin.

Jesus, his cock was never going to let him go to sleep at this rate.

And was it fucking hot in here or what? He tossed the cover off, wishing he had a ceiling fan downstairs, too. Something for the to-do list around this place.

Ike sighed and flung his hand over his head. And wondered why the hell he was torturing himself this way.

He
could
just go up there and get in the bed—and take what he wanted, and what he knew Jess would be only too happy to give. Neither of them was immune to the mutual attraction that had always been there between them. And her reaction to his kiss the other day made it crystal fucking clear that she was waiting for him to make his move.

Jess had plenty of one-night stands and casual hook-ups. Ike knew she was perfectly capable of handling that kind of relationship.

Except.

Except Ike wasn’t a clueless idiot, and he wasn’t in the habit of doing things he knew damn right well would hurt someone he cared about. Jess wore her emotions like she wore her ink—out loud and unapologetically. He had a pretty good idea that she was rocking some more-than-friendly and more-than-physical feelings for him. Right now, she thought them unrequited, and that kept a kind of sexually tense equilibrium between them. But if he let himself off the leash more than he already had—even just once—he’d very likely raise and dash her hopes, give her all kinds of mixed signals, and screw things up royally between them.

He shook his head and heaved a deep breath. If he wasn’t going to go the distance with her, he had no business taking the first step.

End of.

* * * *

Oh, fuck. He was dying.

Pain throbbed in every joint and the bass beat of his pulse pounded against the inside of his skull. Dizzy and disoriented, he reached for the lamp—

Thud
. The floor body-slammed an agonized groan out of him. What the fuck just happened? Where was he? Why was it so goddamned hot? His face, his neck, his chest were all damp with sweat.

“Ike, is that you?” came a soft voice. Somewhere above him, soft golden light glowed.

“Jess,” he rasped, his throat feeling like sandpaper.

“Oh, my God. Are you all right?” Footsteps raced down the stairs, and then Jess was kneeling on the floor beside where he still lay. Her hand fell on his shoulder, so cool against his skin. “Oh, no. I made you sick.”

“I don’t get sick,” he said, and then he realized how ridiculous the proclamation was given that he was currently laid flat-out on the floor. “Not usually.”

“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.