by Laura Kaye
The thought that he might mark her had her trembling again. “Fuck, do it harder,” she said.
His grip tightened, his mouth sucked more intensely, his hips slammed into her ass.
Jess came until she saw starbursts in her vision, until she barely knew her own name.
Ike shouted out his release. “Shit…take…all of me.”
God, she so would. For as long as he’d give himself to her. Because…because she loved him.
Aw, fuck, Jess.
But was this really news? No. No, it wasn’t. Not if she was honest with herself.
When their bodies stilled, Ike collapsed behind her, but he didn’t let her go. Arm around her waist, he pulled her back tight against his front. “Gotta sleep,” he said, sounding like he was already halfway there.
And that was okay, because Jess was right there with him.
* * * *
Eyes still closed, body still trying to hang on to sleep, Ike reveled in having had the best dream of his whole damn life—fucking Jessica to the point that they both passed out.
Except…slowly but surely, his body came back on line and he became aware of warm, fragrant skin. Soft, silky hair. His hard cock nuzzled between two sweet ass cheeks.
Ike opened his eyes to find Jess pressed up against him, just as they’d fallen asleep. It was just shy of dawn, which meant there was enough light to make out the curves and shadows of her, but not much more.
Jessica. It hadn’t been a dream.
The whole night rushed back to him—him making out with her in his sleep, her begging him for more and saying words that made it all okay, the best sex he’d ever had.
The heat of his skin and the ache in his head told him he still wasn’t well, but that didn’t keep his hips from moving and pushing his cock into the cleft of her ass.
He wanted more. No, he needed more. More of her.
Taking his cock in hand, Ike found her pussy and rocked into her until her wetness coated him and she moaned her awareness. He grasped and lifted her thigh, opening her to his invasion.
“Make yourself come,” he whispered against her ear. “I wanna watch.”
“Jesus, Ike,” she said as her hand traveled down the front of her body. She squeezed a breast, tugged at a pierced nipple, and stroked teasing fingers over her soft stomach until her fingers toyed with the silver hoop pierced through her clit.
“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he said in her ear. “So wet for me.”
“Yes,” she said, her face pressing back into his. “For you.”
The words unleashed a deep male satisfaction Ike probably had no business feeling, but that didn’t keep it from being there. He wanted all her pleasure to be for him, because of him, with him. Why did she have to be so fucking perfect and so goddamned wrong at the same time?
Knock it off, Ike.
Forcing himself out of his head, he watched her find a circling rhythm over her clit. The sight had him fucking her faster, deeper, harder, loving the sounds spilling from her mouth, sounds that told him she loved it every bit as raw as he did.
And then she blew his mind. Slowly, she worked two fingers into her cunt with his cock. It made her tighter and added a whole new sensation to being inside her, and it stimulated the dirtiest, raunchiest part of his mind.
“That pussy is so damn hungry for me, isn’t it?” he said.
“God, yes,” she moaned.
“Tell me how much you want me, how much you need me,” he said. He wanted to know despite the fact that knowing would make resisting his desire for her so much harder.
Her other hand slid down to rub her clit. “Oh, I do. I want you, Ike. I need you,” she said, her voice breathy and deep. “Want your cock everywhere.”
The words drove him harder. “In your mouth?”
“Yes.” Her fingers moved faster.
“In your cunt?” he gritted out, eyes on her hands.
“God, yes,” she moaned.
“In your ass?”
“Fuuuck,” she said as her pussy contracted and her orgasm detonated. Her body shook and for a moment she didn’t speak, didn’t breathe. And then she moaned out, “Yes, yes, in my ass.”
Ike almost came right there. He pulled out and banded his fingers around the base of his cock—hard.
Jess pushed off the bed, and Ike frowned—until she started searching her small purse and came up with a packet of something. She tossed it to him—Aquaphor, one of the small sample packs they gave out for new tattoo after-care at Hard Ink.
Basically petroleum jelly. Goddamned perfect.
“You sure?” he asked, cock still steel in his hand.
Without a word she bent over the edge of the bed, and then she stared, eyebrows raised, dark eyes full of invitation, the sexiest fucking expression on her face. “I said you could have me any way you wanted, and I meant it.”
Ike shoved away the dizziness that threatened when he went vertical, but he held on to her until the unsteadiness passed. He tore open the packet and coated two of his fingers with the ointment, and then he rubbed circles against the rosebud of her asshole. Having her here would make the claiming total, and that roared a deep and dangerous satisfaction through him down to his very soul. Because it was an illusion if he kept his heart out of it, wasn’t it? But that was more thinking than his fever and his cock would allow him to do.
When her hips started to move, Ike sank a finger deep, then two. He finger fucked her until she was moaning and shaking her hips and reaching between her thighs to rub her clit.
“I’m ready, Ike,” she said.
He moved behind her and stroked lube all over his length. God, she was small. He didn’t want to fucking hurt her, which meant he really needed to know. “Have you done this before?” Part of him didn’t want to learn the answer, didn’t want to think of her being with anyone else before him.
Or, worse, ever again.
Fuck.
“Yes,” she said. “I can handle you. Promise.”
He lined the head of his cock up with her rear opening, and damn if it wasn’t erotic as hell to watch himself push into her, sink deeper, disappear inch by fucking mind-blowing inch into her luscious ass.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she said, her back arching, her thighs shaking.
“Too much?” he rasped, trying to hold himself back, to restrain himself from just taking every piece of her.
“Yes,” she moaned. “But it’s so good, too.”
“Your ass is so tight,” he said, watching himself withdraw and then sink back in even deeper.
A stream of sexy, desperate babble spilled out of Jess’s mouth, some of it muffled against the covers as she lowered her upper body to the bed and reached back both hands to grab her ass cheeks.
This girl was going to be the death of him. She really was. “Jesus, that looks good,” he said.
When she started pushing back onto him, Ike moved faster, harder, until he was hunched over her on the edge of the bed and digging in deep. They grunted in unison, the sex raw, animalistic, the best of his entire fucking life.
Without warning, he pulled out, pushed her body further onto the bed, and then was right back on her again. “Hold your ass open,” he said, tone harsh, urgent.
Crouched above her, he plumbed her ass, holding his cock downward so he could sink deep, then pulling all the way out so he could enjoy the wide gap of her hole. So goddamned hot.
In, out, gape. In, out, gape. Until they were both sweating and cursing and Jess was thrashing beneath him.
On a groan, she pulled one hand away and shoved it beneath her, and the very idea of her masturbating while he fucked her ass had his balls boiling.
Her body bore down on his and she screamed into the mattress, her back going rigid as she came and came. Ike couldn’t hold back another second. He sank onto his knees and hammered his cock into her ass until he was shooting in her, filling her, making a mess of her inside and out.
Jesus, she stripped him bare and turned him on
his head and absolutely rocked his world.
His Jessica.
His smart-ass, flirtatious, fun-loving, brave, sometimes maddening, always loyal Jess.
One of his very best friends. Who was in trouble…which was his fucking Achilles’s heel. So check yourself, Ike. Right fucking now.
Right.
He was in check, or at least he would be when he had to be. But the sun wasn’t all the way up yet, which meant technically it was still the night.
On a shudder, he eased out of her. Despite his aches and fever and shakiness, he carefully cradled her into his arms and carried her down to the bathroom. An arm still around her shoulders, he turned on the shower water nice and warm. He might not be able to keep her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take care of her every way he could—for however much longer he had.
Just tonight.
He ignored the fuck out of the ache in the center of his chest. So much for claiming her, huh, asshole?
As they stepped into the shower, neither of them said a word. Ike positioned her so the water would mostly stream over her and threaded his fingers through her hair until it was wet. He washed her hair and her body, working to keep his thoughts a nice steady blank.
“How do you feel?” she finally asked.
“Exhausted. Not complaining, though.”
Her pleased smile was full of mischief and satisfaction. She wore both really fucking well. She grabbed the soap and worked her lathered hands over his skin. “You still have a fever,” she said.
He nodded.
She peered up at him with such softness. “You need the sleep you didn’t get last night.”
“Yeah.” Not that he could bring himself to regret not getting it.
When they were done, Ike wrapped her in a towel and dried himself off while she did the same. As she brushed her damp hair at the sink, Ike came up behind her.
Damn, he’d given her a hickey on the side of her neck. He traced his fingers over it, then met her watchful gaze in the mirror. For just a second, her eyes were completely open books. And revealed a boatload of emotion he didn’t want to see, wasn’t strong enough to see, if you wanted to call a spade a spade.
It made him an asshole. He knew it did.
But then she gave him a flirty, playful smile, and the shutters dropped back over her expression. Letting him off the hook, allowing him an out.
And because he was a coward and a bastard, he took it.
Chapter 10
Jess was really glad Ike had slept all day. It gave her plenty of time to perfect her air of nonchalance about what had happened the night before. Namely, the best sex of her entire life. Not the best because Ike’s cock was a thing of wicked beauty. And not just because Ike was skilled at the same kind of rough sex she craved.
It had been the best sex of her life because she found all that with the man she loved.
Oh, Jesus. I’m in love with Ike Young.
Sitting in a ball on the corner of the couch, Jess dropped her forehead into her hands, the revelation sucker punching her anew.
“You are so screwed,” she whispered.
She’d known she had feelings for him, but somehow she’d chalked them up to things like being close friends, and being like family, and being in lust.
And all those things were true. But it was so much more than that. At least for her.
Jess loved the stubborn, overprotective, bald motherfucker. And she’d willingly made an agreement that they’d pretend that nothing had happened—and that it wouldn’t change a thing between them.
In the morning, it’ll all have been a fevered dream. And we’ll be the same friends we were yesterday.
She was such an idiot.
A screwed, screwed idiot.
Upstairs, a cell phone buzzed a few times. “Yeah?” Ike answered, his voice rough.
Oh, shit. He’s awake. Butterflies whipped through her belly.
Because it was show time. She had to make good on what she’d told him because there was no freaking way she was letting last night harm their friendship, no matter how difficult it was to bury her more-than-friendly feelings.
While Ike was still on the call, Jess hopped off the couch and checked on the frozen lasagna she’d put in the oven over an hour before. She wasn’t sure if Ike would be up for real food yet, but she’d made it just in case, and she could always reheat it for him later.
Plus, after a whole night of incredible sex, Jess had been ravenous all damn day.
Her ears listening for the sounds that revealed Ike was making his way downstairs, Jess set the table and sliced up part of a loaf of Italian bread he’d bought. She needed to be ready to act normal. Annnd even thinking that almost guaranteed that she would fail, didn’t it?
She sighed.
Footsteps on the stairs.
Jess turned to find Ike stepping down into the living room wearing jeans and a ratty gray Van Halen T-shirt. At least most of that delicious inked skin and hard muscle was covered. That helped.
“Hey,” she said. “How ya feeling?”
For a split second, she felt him analyzing her, like he was wondering if things were truly going to be normal between them. It made her think of that look he’d given her in the bathroom mirror this morning—after he’d carried her downstairs and washed her freaking hair. How she was supposed to keep her stupid heart out of things when a guy did that for her after giving her a crazy number of mind-blowing orgasms, she didn’t know.
“Better, actually.” His gaze slid from her to the oven to the table. “Smells good.”
“Think you can eat? I made the lasagna.”
He nodded. “I’m actually kinda starving.”
“That’s how I was, too.” She waved him closer. “Let’s feel that forehead.”
He eyeballed her like he was suspicious of her intentions. Soooo glad things were totally normal. Jess just barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Finally, he closed the distance between them.
She pressed her hand to his face. Much cooler than it had been. Relief flooded through her, easing some of the tension in her shoulders. “I think it’s gone. At least for now.”
“Yeah,” he said, taking a step back. Away—from her. “Good news, huh?”
“Yup.” She turned and peeked in the oven. The cheese was bubbling and brown. Perfect. Look at her being all domestic. She lowered the door and grabbed two hand towels, and then she lifted the pan with the lasagna out of the oven and rested it on top the stove’s burners. “Aw, look at that.”
He came up next to her, but not so close that they were touching. “I’m going to demolish that.”
Jess chuckled. “Good.”
“Lemme go get cleaned up while it cools,” he said, already heading to the bathroom.
“Okay,” she said, grabbing a diet Coke from the fridge.
The minute he closed himself in the bathroom, Jess sagged against the kitchen counter. Was that awkward or was that awkward? Or did it just feel awkward to her because she felt all different around him now?
Jess wanted to bang her head against a wall.
Instead, she finished taking everything to the table, grabbed a drink for Ike, and then sat her butt down to try to chill the fuck out.
He came out seconds later and joined her at the table. “Thanks for doing all this.”
“No worries. Neither of us have eaten much this week so I thought we could use a real meal.”
Nodding, he scooped her a big portion, then gave himself an even bigger one.
“I don’t mean to be nosy, but was your call news from back home?” she asked.
He cut a piece of lasagna with his fork. “Yeah. The team confirmed that their former base commanding officer lied about why he was in Baltimore, and a tracking device they put on his car showed that he went to a location known to be part of their enemy’s business. They also found a tracking device in Becca’s purse after she met with the guy, and the Ravens had to provide a diversion to keep her from being followed.”
“Oh, my God,” Jess said. “Is everyone okay?”
He nodded. “The team also got their hands on some new incriminating documents, so things are coming to a head.”
“Well, I guess that’s good news.” She took a bite of food that she barely tasted.
“It is. But this Army officer is a highly decorated general with all kinds of political connections. Who the hell knows what kind of resources someone like that might have. Shit’s about to get real.”
God, if it wasn’t real already, Jess didn’t want to know what real looked like. After all, two Ravens died when the roof at Hard Ink collapsed last weekend. And it didn’t get any more real than that.
“You know,” she said, the words getting all tangled in her mouth. She rarely talked about her dad to anyone because his memory was all caught up in the worst mistake of her life. But this whole crisis had her thinking about him more and more recently.
“What?” Ike said, studying her.
She shrugged. “Was just thinking that I wish my dad was still around. He would’ve been able to help Jeremy and Nick. I know he would. And then they would’ve had someone in the police department they could trust for sure.” Early in the team’s investigation, they’d found solid evidence that the people they were fighting had at least some BPD in their pockets. “Dad is probably rolling in his grave knowing there are dirty cops working in the department he loved.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your father before,” Ike said as he took a bite of bread. “Were you close?”
Jess smiled. “We were. My mom split when I was eight, so it was just the two of us.”
“Probably explains why you eat like a guy.”
She laughed. “Probably. He wasn’t much of a cook either.” She pushed a piece of noodle around on her plate, then she took a deep breath and let the words fly. “I don’t talk about him that much because…it’s my fault he’s dead.”
Ike froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. His gaze narrowed. “I don’t believe that.”
She dropped her fork and sagged against the back of her chair. “It’s true,” she said, twisting her paper napkin in her fingers. In her mind’s eye, scenes from that night took form like some macabre silent-era movie. “I’d fallen in with a bad crowd. I didn’t realize how bad at the time. I just thought they liked to party. They seemed cool, fun, like they didn’t have a care in the world. After living at home with my super serious, everything-by-the-book dad—even while I went to college part time, I was itching to be more independent. I made every wrong choice you could—loser guys, getting drunk, trying drugs. I was working all day at the tattoo parlor where I first met Jeremy and partying all night. My dad and I fought all the time. I was actually planning to move out of the house.” Jess shook her head.
