Go It Alone (A Go Novel Book 2)

by Scarlett Finn

  “For the interruption,” she said.

  Ryske stole the pillow and tossed it away. He dropped down and began to kiss her neck; his lips found their way to her ear. “You want me just to eat you, that’s all I’ll do.”

  Grabbing his head, she forced it around so she could bite his earlobe, hard. “I want you to come inside me,” she whispered and pushed him back to confirm her need through eye contact. “I don’t care if I climax… Fuck yourself inside me until your balls are empty… I want every drop, Crash… All of it is mine.”

  His nostrils flared and she wondered if he was still breathing because he hadn’t opened his mouth for a few seconds. “Goddamn… I’ve never met a woman so good at teasing me.”

  With both hands, she reached between her thighs and pulled on his hand. Folding his other fingers out the way, she sucked his middle finger into her mouth all the way, loving the way his breathing started to come hard and fast.

  Soon as she was done with his hand, Harlow sat up and grabbed his hair to pull him into a kiss. Sliding her tongue across his, sharing her taste with him, she reminded him of what he’d been missing.

  Before he could sink into it, she hauled him back. “If you loved me, you’d be inside me already.”

  Like that was challenge enough, he pushed her shoulders, throwing her down and grabbing her thighs to force them far apart. The sting of his strength manipulating her body aroused her so much that she deliberately tried to push her hips up against his will, fighting him to provoke him into being more forceful.

  Pinning her down, he didn’t even let her go to take his underwear all the way off. With one hand holding her hip, he pulled his cock from his boxer-briefs and pushed himself into her.

  Harlow hadn’t had sex since Rupert. Both of them looked a little surprised when he paused just a couple of inches inside her. Was she too tight for him or was he worried he was close to going off already?

  She didn’t mind if it was the latter. Sacrificing her climax wasn’t a reflection of her expectation of sex or any sort of self-esteem issue. There was just something alluring about the idea of being with a man as powerful as Ryske and making him lose control.

  Remaining over her, he thrust in a little deeper then slid his hand up the center of her body to coil his fingers around her throat.

  Oh, shit.

  So much for him losing control. Her own need began to build. Her body loosened around his, granting him entry to drive himself deep inside her.

  His groin hit her and she whimpered, but he tightened his fingers. “Shh,” he said, not because he was afraid of them being discovered, he was giving her a command. “Don’t make a fucking sound.”

  Pulling back, he thrust in again, using his hold on her neck to anchor himself. If she thought about making a noise, he’d grip her tighter, narrowing her airway, not enough to cause her alarm, but plenty to arouse her.

  Hormones danced and effervesced within her, warming her blood and softening her core. Ryske skimmed his fingertips from her hip to her clit and began to rub in slow circles while thrusting his dick into her.

  “You are going to come,” he grumbled. “You’re going to come with me right here.” He pushed in hard, shoving the head of his cock against her cervix, making her yelp, and his fingers grip tighter. “You’re gonna do what your told, Trink. You want my spunk in you, for only you, you’re gonna come when I say and only when I say.”

  “Crash,” she hissed, feeling the pressure of need increasing.

  “Shh,” he said again and pulled out to slam into her, giving her the final shunt she needed to tumble into the chasm of orgasm that kept going in waves of mounting pleasure.

  Desperation to call out almost overwhelmed her. With her eyes closed and her head back, she feared losing control of herself until he fell over her and plunged his tongue into her mouth, stealing her scream into his own throat. In time with the rhythm of his tongue, his body granted her wish. He came inside her, but kept moving his hips, working his groin against her clit until her second orgasm subsided to the shivers and quakes of enduring aftershocks.

  Ryske didn’t look at her when he moved away. Harlow couldn’t focus on his reasons for putting space between them, she couldn’t focus at all. One of her hands fell to her upper chest and the other spread on her belly.

  After sex with Rupert she’d always accepted his polite goodnight kiss and gone to the bathroom to wash up before settling down to sleep.

  Somehow, she knew that routine wasn’t going to work tonight.

  22

  Harlow was still lying on her back, trying to come to terms with what they’d done, when Ryske shifted to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Oh, I’m in fucking trouble,” he said, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

  Her head flopped to the side. Making any of her muscles move took effort. Keeping her elbow on the mattress to keep her forearm steady, she let it drop until her fingertips came to rest against his spine.

  “That’s not something a woman wants to hear straight after sex.”

  Reaching around to catch her hand, Ryske managed to wind her arm around his head as he dropped onto his side next to her. “I love you. How’s that?”

  The sensation of him nuzzling his face in her hair made her smile. “It’s better.”

  Moving onto her side made it easier for her to draw her fingernails around his shoulder tattoo. As long as he could cup and caress her breasts, he seemed fine with letting her. “Mm, Trinket.”

  “I think I like sex more than I thought I did.”

  There was a purr in his voice. “You’re good at it, baby.”

  “I feel better that we’re not treading the line of deception now. It always bothered me that people assumed we’d had sex.”

  “Should’ve told me, I’d have cleared up that guilt for you,” he said and stole a kiss.

  She didn’t mind his teasing. It hadn’t taken him long to get back to being his usual cocky self. Harlow sort of liked that she was one of the few people, maybe the only person, to have seen his softer, more tender, side.

  Opening her hand on his arm, she stroked him. “You should go back to your room.”

  “Prefer this room,” he said, forcing his arms around her waist to pull her body against his. “You Sweetings are mighty hospitable.”

  “Yeah, and if you stay, I’ll end up hosting you again. We’re playing with fire doing it here when no one can know.”

  He groaned. “Okay, okay… I guess I have to break up with my fake fiancé before I tell your dad you enchanted me,” he said and kissed her head before springing off the bed.

  “Oh, he’d love that.”

  “He’ll get used to me,” he said, offering her his hand. “Not like I’m going anywhere.”

  She sat up to take his hand, but concern made her frown. “You’re still going to stay for the weekend?”

  Ryske pulled her onto her feet. “Why not? I’ll tell them my fiancée dumped me on the phone or something. Doubt they’ll ever talk to Ophelia about it.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that,” she said, resting her forearms against him when he put his arms around her. “My father and Rupert were courting Hagan. They might meet Ophelia… I think Rupe understands I’m not a fan, but I’ll check they’re not planning to continue pursuing his business. I would never trust that man to employ my father or fiancé.”

  His brows rose. “Excuse me? Your what? Hagan doesn’t employ me.”

  Smiling, Harlow let her arms slink around his neck to pull herself up for a kiss. “You’re not my fiancé, and I don’t think anyone could employ you. You’re an in charge kind of guy.”

  “That’s right, I am,” he said, taking her elbows to pull her arms from around him.

  The frown on his face took her aback. “What’s wrong?”

  “You meant Marlowe. He’s your fiancé.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s premature, we haven’t talked about marriage, but—”

  “I thought that damn kiss at dinner w
as a sham to piss me off,” he said.

  Glancing at the door and then back at him, she rushed to grab her robe from the head of the bed. “Will you keep your voice down?”

  Typical that they could get away with having sex without rousing the house, but he’d lose his temper and blow their cover two minutes after.

  “You think I’m gonna let you marry that fucking guy?” he snapped and pointed at nothing like Rupert was right there with them. “Are you fucking him?”

  “Ryske,” she hissed, trying to quiet him.

  “I know something went on with that sap you used to work with. He came into Floyd’s this week,” he said, his anger apparent when he looked to the side. “That fucker. I should’ve put him in the ground when I had the chance.”

  Storming over, she got in front of him. “You have no right to hurt him, or any other man who’s ever touched me.”

  Ryske bowed to get in her face. “It’s my right to do what I damn well please when it comes to my woman.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” she said and started to turn, but he grabbed her arm to haul her back.

  “You belong to me and we’re going to make this work.”

  “My future is with Rupert,” she said, losing some of her anger when she realized there was one thing she hadn’t been clear about. “Baby—” Now it was Ryske’s turn to back off when she tried to touch his face. “I’m sorry, Crash. I’m so sorry. I thought you… I thought you knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  But the truth was, now that she gave it some thought, he couldn’t have known something that only she and Rupert knew.

  “That was the deal,” she said. “The money.”

  For a second he examined her, then he exhaled in relief. “Is that all? Shit, baby,” he said and grabbed her wrist to tug her to him. “I’m getting the money together. We’ll have it soon. Just keep holding him off.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not about the money. He doesn’t care about getting the money back. I wanted the money back from you as a show of self-respect. Rupert never wanted it back.”

  The way he scrutinized her grew more intense. “He only wanted you,” he said. “And you agreed?”

  Harlow shrugged. “It didn’t matter, did it?” she asked. “It was what you wanted… and I knew I wasn’t going to find love like I felt for you, so what did it matter who I was with?”

  He let her go, but he didn’t push her away, just set a disapproving eye on her. “Do you want to be with him? Is this the life you’ve decided that you want?”

  This life had been available to her since she shunned it the first time. “You know the answer to that,” she said. “But what choice do I have?”

  “Do you want to be with me?”

  Harlow had never thought of that as such a perplexing question. Usually, when she was asked a direct question, she knew her heart and her head well enough to know what she wanted. A fog of possibilities could be overwhelming and disorienting, but if it was boiled down to a simple yes or no, usually it was easy for her to come up with an answer.

  “Wow,” he said and took a step back. “Guess I’ve still got work to do.”

  “Ryske…”

  Though she was sure she’d just hurt him, he didn’t pout. Her Ryske was too persistent to pout. He bowed to kiss the top of her head. “I prefer Crash from those lips,” he said, his mouth in her locks. “You’re gonna be a Ryske soon, baby. I guarantee it.”

  He smacked her ass, hard, and ignored the shock in her loose jaw to saunter to the door and out of her bedroom.

  Having sex with Ryske when so many things were up in the air probably hadn’t been smart. Yet, she couldn’t say she was sorry she’d done it.

  After slipping into bed, she lay staring at her ceiling but wasn’t awake for long. Her body relaxed and she drifted off into a sleep more satisfying than any she’d had in her childhood room for a long time.

  23

  Harlow came down the stairs the following night to find everyone already waiting in the lower hallway. Their polite conversation faded when they all turned to her.

  Their inspection made her pause a few steps from the bottom. “What?” she asked.

  “Do you think that’s appropriate?” Jean asked.

  Looking down at her outfit, Harlow opened her arms to present herself. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s… short,” Rupert said.

  “And tight,” her mother followed.

  Spinning on the step to give them the full view, Harlow peeked over her shoulder. “And backless.”

  “I love it,” Ryske said, making her smile.

  The rest of the room were still on pause, which didn’t matter because she was focused on Ryske’s exuberant grin. The way he was checking her out wasn’t the same way as her family and Rupert were, which probably wasn’t a great idea given that they weren’t supposed to know each other.

  They hadn’t seen each other since he’d left her bedroom last night. By the time she got up, Ryske had returned to the city with her father and Rupert. What they talked about all day, she had no idea, but he was making an impression anyway.

  “My breasts are covered,” she said, descending one stair and then another. “I haven’t gone all out.”

  “Only thing I don’t like about it,” Ryske said.

  His appreciation was risky… and flattering. In her attempt to be subtle about nudging Ryske with her hip when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she caught Rupert’s eye, and realized he was watching her, a frown set on his face.

  Aiming her wide smile at Rupert, Harlow left Ryske’s side to go and take his arm. “Are we ready to leave?”

  “Yes,” Rupert said, tucking her hand inside his elbow. The group began to move outside. “I didn’t mean to imply you don’t look beautiful… you do.”

  It was sweet of him to apologize, but when she turned to offer a grateful smile, she couldn’t help but notice Ryske right at their backs.

  “Thank you, Rupe,” she said, trying to ignore Ryske. “You look very handsome too.”

  Raising his arm, he showed her his cufflinks. “I wore your favorite.”

  “That’s very sweet,” she said.

  They came to a stop in the driveway and the group fanned out. Her father’s car was there, Rupert’s too, but there was a third car, one that made her smile falter. Pointing at the gleaming BMW, she intended to ask where it had appeared from when Ryske spoke up.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ryske asked, sliding his hands into his pockets as he sauntered up at her side.

  Rupert was discussing travel arrangements with Brysen, giving her some cover to grumble at Ryske. “You did not.”

  “No, I didn’t,” he said, a tease in his smile.

  Leaning in closer, she glared at him. “You know damn well that when I say you, I mean Noon… Did he do this for you?”

  Picking up his hand, he showed her a key. “For us.”

  Her growl of aggravation only seemed to heighten his amusement. “And, if you’re pulled over in a stolen car… what happens to your elaborate cover?”

  “Not that elaborate,” he said. “I’m a rich fuck here to take what’s actually mine.”

  “Mr. Ryske,” Jean said, interrupting their stare. “Would you like to drive? Brysen and Rupert are both happy to, if you’d prefer not to—”

  “I’m driving,” Harlow said, snatching the key from Ryske’s hand and striding toward the BMW.

  Getting it out of her parent’s driveway was preferable to leaving it there and having the cops bust into the country club to take them down. If she got pulled over, she’d act drunk, and let the cops take her in for that before they ran the license plate.

  The car opened, which was impressive, that meant the key was genuine… or that Maze knew how to program them. Adjusting the seat and the mirror, she turned on the engine and was checking her lip gloss when Ryske slid into the passenger seat next to her.

  “Want to tell me how he did it?
” she asked.

  “He’s a magician,” Ryske said. “Doesn’t reveal his secrets.”

  “He showed me how to pop a lock once.”

  “I’ll tell the cops that if they stop us.” His obvious attempt to rile her didn’t last long. “What you doing letting him show you shit like that?”

  Rolling her eyes toward the mirror, she touched her lashes. “You should see some of the things his buddy shows me.”

  Her eyes trailed to his. Their eye contact only lasted a second before his gaze descended to her covered chest. “Next time, I want you to show ‘em to me.”

  Pushing her shoulders back to accentuate what he couldn’t see, she was proud of her wardrobe choice. Tormenting Ryske was fun. “What makes you think there will be a next time? I picked this one because I know they’re your favorite part of me.”

  “Tease,” he muttered a moment before the two back doors opened.

  Harlow hadn’t thought to ask if anyone wanted to join them. The decision was made without her input. Her mother got in one side and her sister the other. Typical that all the women were drawn to Ryske.

  “Ready to go?” Jean asked with an edge of apprehension.

  “When was the last time you drove a car?” Lena asked, pulling on her seatbelt.

  Harlow put on her own too. “I borrowed a friend’s in the city. You’re good, Lena. I need to keep you around, so you can marry your millionaire.” Rupert’s car pulled out of the driveway, so she turned to follow behind him. “You do know I plan to exploit him for all he’s worth.”

  “Oh, Harlow,” her mother chastised.

  Lena laughed. “We can go on shopping trips together.”

  “Shopping trips?” she said, glancing at her sister in the mirror. “I want a house, and a Mercedes, and a safety deposit box filled with jewels.”

  “Why would you want that? You don’t even wear jewelry,” Lena said. “Except that bracelet… where did you get that anyway?”

  Glancing from her bracelet to the man at her side, Harlow was surprised by how quickly the energy of the air between them changed. “Off a dead man.”