by Shayla Black
“Bunny said you might be staying here for a few nights,” Jeb said, sitting on the side.
“I don’t know how long,” she said, studying Blake as he tried to make a hard shot. “But definitely tonight.”
“Nice,” Jeb said. “Where are you staying?”
“Oh, uh, here?” She looked to Ike, her gaze shuttered, her expression that careful neutral she’d been wearing around him all day. It was making him insane and causing a feeling in his chest like someone had punched him there and yanked out some important stuff. “I’ve never been here before, so…”
Ike studied her eyes, but he couldn’t get a read on her. He couldn’t tell what the look meant. Was her question purely informational? Was she wondering if she and Ike would sleep together? Was she looking for his permission to sleep wherever she—or her and the prospects—might want?
Fuck if that last possibility didn’t make the blood go from a simmer to a low boil in Ike’s veins. He almost felt like the fever was back, though he knew it wasn’t. This heat was coming from the possessive, territorial part of him. The part that said, She. Is. Mine.
He squeezed the neck of the beer bottle hard enough that he feared it could break in his hand. “We’re upstairs,” he bit out, not including the detail that Bunny had given them separate rooms. Or that Ike had requested it be that way.
“While most of the club’s away,” Blake said, “we’re upstairs, too.” He gave her a look that made Ike want to break things. “Your turn.” The guy winked at her.
Jess grinned as she lined up what should’ve been an easy shot—and missed. She was a little thing and had now thrown back part of a beer and four tequila shots. Ike had only seen Jess drunk a handful of times, not enough to remember how fucking fluid and sensual her body got under the influence. She had him gritting his teeth and aching in his jeans.
“Aw, shit,” she said at her miss, making the guys laugh.
“’Bout time I give you a spankin’,” Blake said, his gaze very obviously skating down to her ass.
Jess raised her eyebrows in challenge. “Think so, huh? Do it if you’re man enough.” She used the pool cue to hold herself steady.
“Better get that ass ready for me,” Blake said.
Annnd that’s when something snapped inside Ike’s brain. “Game’s over,” he said, shoving off his stool. “You two, clean up and get the fuck out.”
The fact that the prospects hesitated before following his order ratcheted up his pissed-off factor by about ten. The fact that Jess was glaring at him like he’d ruined her fun—and her chance to get laid—had him wanting to destroy things with his bare hands. The fact that Blake paused in the doorway like maybe he was thinking of asking Jess to come with him pushed Ike all the way to homicidal.
“What part of get the fuck out don’t you understand?” Ike said, glaring at the prospect. The kid disappeared into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind him.
“What’s your problem?” Jess said, hands planted on her hips.
A few pages past rational, Ike got right up in her face. “What’s my problem? Really?”
“Yeah. Really,” she said, tossing her cue on the felt.
Ike backed her up against the pool table. “You wanna fuck that guy?” he bit out, knowing he was being an asshole but unable to keep all the noise inside him buttoned up tight.
“Are you shitting me right now?” she said, eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed.
“No, I’m fucking serious. You’ve been flirting with the pair of them all night. Shaking your ass in their face, hanging on them, getting fucking drunk.”
Fury blazed from Jess’s eyes. “First of all, I haven’t done a damn thing wrong. Second of all, I’m an adult and you don’t get a fucking say in who I do anything with. And third of all,” she said, planting her hands against his chest and shoving him, her volume escalating. “You made it crystal freaking clear we’re not together and never will be, so why does it matter to you who I wanna fuck anyway?”
Everything she said was true, but the shit storm in his head wouldn’t relent. He got right back up in her face. “Because…I…” He shook his head.
“What?” she shouted.
“I… Fuck.” He dove at her. Clasped her face in his hands and devoured her mouth with every bit of denied desire he had inside him. He was rock hard and aching and out of his mind.
Together, they were an angry, roiling flash fire. Jess clawed his neck, bit his lip, and sucked on his tongue until he saw stars. Ike gripped her hard—squeezing her breasts, clutching her ass, pulling her hair.
He tore her jeans open and forced them down around her thighs, and then he kicked her feet apart and sank a finger deep into her pussy. “Tell me you’re so wet for me,” he growled, finger fucking her fast.
“You’re an asshole,” she rasped, her hips moving with his hand.
“Yeah,” he said, claiming her mouth again. Jesus, he had to get in her. It was the only place he felt like he wasn’t starved of air and solace and life.
Ike spun her around, bent her over the pool table, and freed his cock from his jeans. A twinge of something shot through him—guilt? Uncertainty? Concern, for her?
“Jesus, Ike, are you going to fuck me or not?” she asked, anger clear in her voice.
He pushed his cock into her until he was balls deep.
On a groan, he fucked her hard, fingers digging into her hips. Jess was screaming and cursing and moaning loudly—and Ike hoped Blake heard every fucking sound.
She. Is. Mine.
The thought had his hips snapping faster as his cock worked that pussy so damn good. Planting a hand on the felt, he hunched himself around her, bearing down on her, going deeper. The tenor of Jess’s moans became more desperate, more urgent.
“Come all over my cock, Jessica. Fucking come for me.”
Her orgasm was goddamned glorious. Her pussy fisted him again and again and again and her come coated his cock and ran down his balls. And then he was right there with her, shoving into her deep, but not deep enough. Never deep enough. He came so long and so hard that he got light-headed.
For a long moment, their harsh breathing was the only sound in the room.
Jess pushed herself into a standing position and pulled free of him. Without looking at him, she drew up and fastened her jeans.
Eyes glued to her, Ike did the same. Dread snaked into his gut.
“Can you show me where I’m sleeping?” she asked, that careful neutral back on her now-flushed face.
Ike fucking hated it, but he nodded. He grabbed their bags from where he’d dropped them in the front lounge and guided her upstairs. Theirs were the first two rooms on the second floor. “You’re here,” he said, pointing at the first door. “And I’m there.” He indicated the next room over.
“Okay.” She reached for her bag, and Ike handed it to her.
“Jess—”
“What happened tonight,” she said, turning the knob and cracking the door open a little. “You should know, it didn’t mean anything to me. And it won’t be happening again. But thanks for scratching my itch.”
With that, she disappeared inside the room and closed the door in his face. A click told him she’d engaged the lock.
Ike was so fucking hosed.
Chapter 12
Ike had been lying in bed for hours and hadn’t once drifted off to sleep. His brain was so full of churn and burn that it wouldn’t shut the fuck off and give him even a minute of reprieve—from the guilt, from the grief, from the soul-deep knowledge that he’d been kidding himself where Jessica Jakes was concerned.
Not just since he’d slept with her. And not just this week that he’d been alone with her. But pretty much for as long as he’d known her.
He’d been a hundred and fifty percent sure he’d been doing the right thing when he’d made it clear that they’d never be more than friends. But now that she was the one pulling the full stop…
Funny thing about having choices taken away from you—i
t tended to make things all kinds of crystal clear. You either felt relief all the way into your bones because it was the right decision even if you hadn’t made it, or every cell inside you cried out in rebellion and loss and regret because you learned—too late—what it was you really wanted.
Ike shifted in the bed, kicked off the covers, and stared unseeingly up at the dark ceiling. On a sigh, he threw an arm over his head.
He wanted Jess. But he’d fucked things up with her more than once, and now she was done with him.
And though he still had all kinds of bullshit about his past and his failures and his shame whirling around in his brain, knowing she wasn’t even a possibility now cut right through it all—and made it clear that a lot of the rationale he’d been clinging to all this time was nothing more than fear-turned-convenient-justification. Which it turned out Ike was really fucking good at since he’d been working at it for the last eighteen years.
Sonofabitch.
One of the things in particular that Jess said yesterday had really been shaking things loose in his head.
You survived. You didn’t give in to what your father wanted. You got free. Living life on your terms is the sweetest vengeance of all…
Prickles ran over every inch of Ike’s body.
He’d gotten free of his father physically, but not mentally, not emotionally.
Jesus. He hadn’t been living life on his own terms, had he? Not really. Because he was still running from his father. Still internalizing his father’s terrible will. Because that’s what harassing Lana had been about—teaching Ike a lesson.
How much longer was Ike going to let his father control a single thing about his life?
And did it even matter now that things with Jess were beyond repair?
When morning finally dawned, Ike managed to doze off for a while, but his sleep was so restless that he woke up more exhausted than if he’d just gotten up without sleeping at all. His guts felt like they’d been through a meat grinder, and a solid, blaring ache had settled into his head. He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold.
Ike exchanged some texts with Dare to learn that the meeting between the team and the leader of their mercenary enemies was that afternoon following a funeral for the brother of one of the SF teammate’s girlfriends. That meant in a matter of hours they would know if this whole situation was coming to an end or about to get a whole lot fucking worse.
Finally, Ike had no other reason to hole up in his room. It was going on ten o’clock, after all.
He was dreading seeing the disappointment and distance on Jess’s face, but he was just pathetic enough to want to be in her presence anyway. Knocking on her door, he called, “Jess?” No answer. He knocked again.
Frowning, Ike set off to find her. It didn’t take long. She was in the big industrial kitchen with Bunny, who was regaling her with a story about her and Doc when they were younger while she flipped pancakes on the big grill. Next to her, Jess was scooping scrambled eggs off the grill into a big tray, her discomfort in the kitchen even more noticeable next to Bunny. It might’ve made him smile if the expression on Jess’s face hadn’t fallen so hard when she noticed him in the doorway.
“Hey,” Ike said.
“Hey, Ike. Good morning,” Bunny said. “Coffee’s on if you want some. And brunch will be ready soon.”
Jess didn’t say a thing, so Ike nodded and moved to the counter where the three-pot coffeemaker sat. He poured a cup and took a long sip, the hot liquid inside him making him feel incrementally better. Standing off to the side of the kitchen allowed Ike to watch Jess as she worked. She was wearing a loose white T-shirt pulled tight into a knot at the waist. Beneath it, a black bra was visible. On the bottom, skinny ripped-up blue jeans hugged her ass perfectly and ended inside her tall black boots. She pulled all of her hair into a thick side braid that laid over her left shoulder, the braid highlighting the red in her jet-black hair.
Jeans and a white T-shirt had never looked so damn good.
Jesus, he was a goner, wasn’t he?
“You realize if you stand in my kitchen, I’m gonna put you to work, right?” Bunny asked after a minute.
“I’m at your service,” he said.
She laughed. “My favorite words ever.” No doubt, she heard a version of them often enough since Ike didn’t know a single Raven who wouldn’t drop everything to give Bunny a hand. As Doc’s sister and Dare’s great-aunt, she commanded a lot of respect within the club.
Put him to work, Bunny did. He set the table, earning some ribbing from Doc and Rodeo when they arrived soon after. He carted food out. He brewed fresh pots of coffee. And he didn’t mind a bit of it—except that it gave him no time to pull Jess aside and apologize for…a damn long list of things.
The food was good for fuel, but Ike hardly tasted any of it. He kept trying to catch Jess’s gaze, but she seemed to be looking right past him—or avoiding him altogether. When everyone was done and just sitting around the table shooting the shit, Ike’s cell buzzed in his pocket. He checked it to find he had a missed call from Dare and had a text that simply said, Call me. But Dare hadn’t left a message, which was strange.
“Excuse me,” Ike said, pushing back from the table. Finally, Jess looked at him, questions clear in her gaze. She knew shit would be going down today, and no doubt she was nervous about it. Ike gave her a little nod. “Be right back.”
Ike moved out into the lounge and called Dare.
“Ike,” Dare answered.
“Hey, sorry I missed you. Bunny made up a big breakfast here and—”
“Ike,” Dare said again, something in his tone making Ike’s instincts blare. “I’ve got bad news here, man. And I’m really sorry to have to be the one to deliver it.”
* * * *
Jess was in the kitchen helping Bunny wash the dishes. She almost regretted how much she liked the older lady because after all this was over, Jess couldn’t see any reason why she’d get to spend time with Bunny again.
But Jess had been so happy to find Bunny up and around this morning because the lady’s company would provide the perfect buffer between her and Ike. With Bunny around, the pair of them probably wouldn’t fight and certainly couldn’t fuck. And clearly Jess needed that kind of third-party intervention after she’d so easily given in to Ike’s desire last night.
On the pool table.
Still mostly dressed and possibly more angry than she’d ever been in her life.
God, it had been so damn hot.
And another in a long line of mistakes where Ike was concerned. Maybe he was right after all—maybe Jess couldn’t help but get in trouble, find trouble, and generally cause trouble.
One good thing had come from their rough-and-dirty quickie, though, and that was bone-deep resolve. Jess had known letting the sex happen—no matter how much she wanted it, too—had been a mistake. But she was done. She wouldn’t make it again. Her resolve wasn’t about revenge or playing hard to get, it was about protecting her heart before it got any more beat up.
The door to the kitchen swung open and Jess felt Ike’s presence like a physical caress. Would she always be so aware of him? Footsteps told her he was coming her way, and then the hair rising on the back of her neck let her know he was right behind her.
“Jess?” he said. “I need to talk—”
“Not now,” she said, rinsing a plate and bending to put it in the huge dishwasher.
“I’ll give y’all some privacy,” Bunny said, settling a dried pot on the stove.
“That’s okay, Bunny,” Jess said. “We don’t need it.”
“Yes, we do,” Ike said quietly.
Something about his tone was…odd. He wasn’t being his usual bossy self. She peered up at his face, and ice skittered down her spine. Ike’s expression…was a breath away from being shattered. A soapy cup fell out of Jess’s hands and clunked against the sink. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Let’s go outside—”
With wet hands, she c
lutched his arms. Her stomach squeezed. “No, tell me. Now.”
Ike gently rested his fingers on her hips. “Everyone from Hard Ink went to the funeral for Emilie’s brother this morning.”
“Okay,” Jess said, her thoughts scrambling. Emilie was dating Marz, one of the guy’s on Nick’s team, but otherwise, Jess didn’t know her well.
“The mercenaries from Seneka showed up. There was a firefight. It was bad.” As Ike spoke, Jess’s heart was sinking to the floor. “Jess…”
“Oh, God,” she said, time slowing, the room going a little wobbly around her. Not Jeremy, not Jeremy, not Jeremy. Without him, Jess wasn’t sure she would’ve survived her father’s death. And she couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t include her funny, generous, talented friend.
“Nick and his sister were both shot. And Jeremy…Jeremy sustained some kind of head injury.” A moan spilled from her throat. Ike pulled her in closer, his hands gently cupping her face. “Jeremy and his sister were serious enough to be airlifted to the hospital for surgery. I don’t know anything else yet.”
Jeremy…with a head injury?
Jess shook and her eyes went blurry, and then the tears fell as a sob ripped up her throat. “Oh, my God,” she said through thick tears. “Oh, my God. Not Jeremy.”
“I know,” Ike said, his voice strained. He pulled her against his chest and wrapped her in his strong arms.
“Ike,” she cried.
He stroked her hair. “So damn sorry.”
And then it occurred to her. “Oh, God.” She pushed back far enough to meet his gaze. “What if Nick loses both of his siblings?” Since he’d come home from the Army, Jess had gotten to know Nick pretty good. He could be stubborn and opinionated and a pain in her ass, mostly playfully, but he was a good guy and a great brother, and she knew that his family meant the world to him.
Ike shook his head. “Don’t think that way. They’re getting treatment. There’s no reason to think they won’t pull through.”
