by Shayla Black
“That’s good. Sleep is probably the best thing for you. Ready?” He threw another towel over his shoulder. When she nodded, he gently slipped his arms beneath her knees and around her back and lifted her from the tub. God, she was a little slip of a thing in his arms, even with all her curves, and he fucking loved the feel of the bare skin of her side against his abs.
Even awake and aware, she curled her face against his chest. She pressed a kiss above his heart. “Thanks, Ike. Sorry I’m always such a pain in the ass.”
“Don’t say that,” he said, carrying her back up the stairs. “You’re not a pain in the ass.”
An expression flitted over her face, one that said she didn’t believe him.
He hated that she thought for even a second that he minded taking care of her. “I mean it, Jess. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than where I am. Right here, with you.”
* * * *
The good news was that her fever seemed to have broken, but now Jess was absolutely freezing and, no matter how many covers Ike added to the bed, she couldn’t get warm.
“Any better?” Ike asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Jess peered up at him. “A little.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re still cold, aren’t you?”
She shivered and pulled the cover tighter around her shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Fuck.” Ike scrubbed a hand over his bald head and mumbled something she couldn’t quite make out. “Maybe I shouldn’t have put you in the tub after all.”
“I think it was the right thing, Ike. I was so out of it. It is better than it was before.” She worked at a small smile. No matter how bad she felt, the last thing she wanted was to make him feel bad given everything he was doing for her. As if he hadn’t already gone out of his way in giving her a place of refuge and his personal protection for as long as she needed it, now he had to play freaking nursemaid to a sicky. Which, on top of everything, was super attractive.
The only upside to that ice-cold bath was that Ike had gotten wet and tossed his shirt, and Jess thought she might be willing to be sick more often if it meant getting to see him shirtless. Because, holy bad-ass tattooed biker on a stick, he was so freaking hot. Cut muscles, ink everywhere, two insanely delicious indents low on his waist. And scars Jess had no idea how Ike had gotten.
All that goodness and Jess couldn’t even see the big Ravens tat that she knew covered Ike’s broad back. But she’d seen it before, back at Hard Ink when Jeremy occasionally did a new piece for Ike. She’d seen it enough to know that she’d love to have a good reason to dig her fingers into that tat…
Oh, for fuck’s sake, even sick she couldn’t stop fantasizing about what it would be like to be with Ike. Just once.
“Jess?”
Her gaze snapped to his eyes. “Huh?” Hopefully the warmth crawling up her cheeks would pass for a fevered flush. Because she was so busted.
“I, uh, asked if you thought it would help if I got in with you.” The expression he wore said he was dubious about the idea.
And as much as Jess loved the idea, she didn’t want him doing anything with her that he didn’t really want to do. “That’s okay. Why don’t you go get some sleep now? It’s gotta be almost morning.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and then he tapped his hand against her arm. “Scoot over.”
“Ike—”
“Damnit, scoot your scrawny ass over already.” He cocked an eyebrow, humor sliding into his eyes.
“Well, I’ll scoot over,” she said as she made herself move. “But you and I both know there ain’t anything scrawny about my ass.”
“Jessica?” Ike said as he got in next to her wearing only his jeans.
“Yeah?” The minute he was down, she nearly dove into the crook of his body, her forehead against his neck, her breasts against his ribs, her bare legs intertwined with his denim-clad ones. She wasn’t sure where to put her hand, because the not-sick part of her brain wanted to touch him everywhere right now. Oh my God, I’m in bed with Ike! But she settled for resting it on his chest, the hair on his pecs ticklish against her fingers.
“Shut up and go to sleep.” He took the edge off the words by clasping her hand in his and pressing it more firmly to his skin.
“Be nice to me. I’m sick,” she said, burrowing in further.
Ike wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tighter against him. God, he felt good, warm and hard and strong. “Woman,” he said, his voice full of gravel. “This is me being nice.”
* * * *
Most of the next two days were a blur to Jess. The fever had come back, so she’d alternated between long sleeps and short periods of wakefulness where she choked down enough medicine and water to let her sink into unconsciousness again. Ike was still beside her every time she opened her eyes, taking care of her in every way she needed.
Ike’s attentiveness did funny things to her insides—it wasn’t something she was used to. Her dad had been great, but he’d never been overtly affectionate and certainly never fussed over her when she’d gotten sick. Hell, he went to work with fevers, migraines, and bullet wounds, and was pretty much of the mindset that if you weren’t bleeding out, you were good to go.
After her dad died, Jeremy had played a big role in helping Jess pull herself together. Luckily, she’d inherited enough money to take care of herself, but it was really the job at Hard Ink that finally forced her to start getting dressed again and face the world. Day by day, with Jeremy’s constant friendship and encouragement, things had gotten easier, life had gotten better, and the hole inside her shrank—at least a little. Getting back on her feet had given her the strength to start to forgive herself for falling in with a crowd of friends who’d been into way more trouble that she’d known—trouble that had gotten her father killed in the first place. She wished like hell he was still around to say “I told you so,” because he’d been a hundred percent right.
In her whole life, besides her father, no one had been there for her more than Jeremy and Ike. And that made them the two most important people in her world.
Stretching her aching limbs, Jess blinked open her eyes. Ike was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched. “Hey,” she said.
He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile. “There you are. How ya feeling?”
“Sore. And tired. And really freaking disgusting.” She adjusted Ike’s big T-shirt on her shoulders as she turned over onto her stomach—during one of the periods where the broken fever left her shivering, Ike had dressed her. “And I hope you bought a couple bags of Doritos because I swear to God I could eat every single one.”
“Maybe you ought to start with some toast,” he said, eyebrow arched.
Fair point, given that she’d only had the broth and a few noodles from chicken noodle soup the day before and part of a banana that morning. She asked Ike to get Pop-Tarts and Hot Pockets at the store, and he came home with fruit. Go figure. “Toast is boring. Doritos are life.”
Ike shifted toward her on the bed. “Yeah, but Doritos will be way worse coming back up.” He pressed his hand to her forehead. “Feels like the fever’s gone.”
“I think so,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Which is good because that really sucked.”
“Apparently, you got taken out by a six-year-old. I talked to Bunny earlier and Ben’s been sick, too.”
“Aw, hope he’s okay,” she said. It had to be terrible watching a little kid be so sick.
Emotions Jess couldn’t read moved across Ike’s rugged face. “If you want to grab a shower, I’ll throw some dinner together for us.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said. “I need to get out of this bed anyway. I’m not even sure what freaking day it is at this point.”
Ike rose and offered her a hand. “Tuesday.”
“Wow,” she said, allowing him to help steady her as she got out of bed. Ike’s shirt was so big on her it nearly hit her knees, and part of her was sad to change out of it. But, h
onestly, it should’ve probably been burned at this point.
“You okay to go it on your own?” he asked, half looking like he expected her to fall on her ass.
Jess grabbed a few things from her bag and made for the steps. “I’m good,” she said. “Though if you still feel inclined to carry me around everywhere, I won’t complain. A girl could get used to that, you know.”
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 u
p 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.”