Go With It (A Go Novel Book 1)

by Scarlett Finn

  “She loves you, Ryske,” she said. “I’m not telling you to act on it, but it does change things.”

  Ryske was still shaking his head. “Baby, we’ve never been together.”

  The warning wasn’t rooted in jealousy. He didn’t see the trouble that could lie ahead. “You need her on your side. A scorned woman can be a dangerous thing.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Stepping in close, she tilted her head back to murmur, “Watch your ass, Crash. I’m saying you have to watch your ass.”

  On a slow blink, the corner of his mouth rose. “Always do, Trinket.”

  Dipping down, he covered her mouth with his. Harlow closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feel of him. His kiss was powerful in its delicacy. There was no denying that he was practiced, and not just in kissing. Ryske knew what women wanted, how to make them feel like they were the most valued thing on the planet, and she was not immune.

  In that moment, basking in his kiss, Harlow felt like the only female who existed. He didn’t push, didn’t force himself harder against her. Cupping her head, he held her with a gentle insistence, tipping her head to the side to consume more of her with his tender mouth.

  Their kisses were usually urgent or anger fueled. This wasn’t like that. It was soft, slow, full of need and yet filled with wonder. She didn’t feel him untucking her towel or hear it falling to the floor. The first Harlow was aware of her nudity was the sensation of his hand skimming up her bare waist. Cradling her breast, he brushed his thumb over the apex, tormenting her nipple to a peak while his mouth kept softening her resolve.

  “I’d wait an eternity to be inside you,” he murmured, tilting her head the other way to kiss her from a new angle. “Just tell me I’ll have you.”

  His body didn’t seem to agree with the idea of waiting; she’d felt the welcome intrusion of his dick against her since they’d started kissing. There was no time for her to respond or tease. He clamped one strong arm around her waist, pinning her body to his to pick her up off her feet. Without raising her higher to wrap her legs around him, he locked their gazes and began to walk across the room.

  When her spine met one of the dressers, he put her back on her feet. “Crash—”

  He cut her off with a kiss and winked on his way down to his knees. She stayed still and mute until he picked up her ankle and directed it around to his back, hooking her knee over his shoulder. His lips kissed each angle of her groin before his tongue slid between her folds, searching for her clit.

  When he found it a moment later, she gasped. Her head fell back and she whimpered at the sensation of his mouth licking and sucking on her. His focus started on her clit, tantalizing the flesh until it tingled and sparked with the need for release.

  Using one arm to steady herself on the dresser, the other fell into his damp hair, scrunching and kneading as he increased her pleasure. His mouth slid lower, and he slipped his tongue into her. Circling and delving deeper, he fucked her with his mouth.

  Harlow didn’t want casual. But for all she knew, that’s what this was for him. He’d told her himself that when he wanted to comfort Anwen, he’d had sex with her because it was what he knew how to do.

  In her opinion, he didn’t give himself enough credit. What he made her feel was more than sex, and more than casual. But maybe this was what Anwen had felt with him too. Maybe he made every woman feel this way.

  Harlow had told him no promises, so it wasn’t like she could push for more. Ryske had been clear that he had no more than pleasure to give her.

  Even as her teeth dug deep into her lip and she tried her hardest to hold onto the scream that wanted to leave her lungs, Harlow dedicated herself to him. It was insane to feel such an intense draw to a man. But she couldn’t deny feeling it.

  Ryske had told her he couldn’t make her a promise he might break. He might be a criminal, but he had his own moral code, and doing that with her went against it. With her. He’d said that breaking promises to her would bother him.

  Maybe it was a con and he told every woman they were different. So many maybes. Harlow wanted to believe he’d meant what he said when he told her he couldn’t feed her lines.

  Reasoning and rational fled her mind when Ryske returned his effort to her clit. He sucked harder this time and flicked his tongue over her with finessed speed, giving all his focus and force to that tiny corner of her being.

  Everything else vanished. There was no stress. No family pressure. No career worries. No college assignments. No Hagan. No Ophelia. No Anwen.

  Just this man and her.

  Yelping, she tightened her hold on his hair when orgasm slammed into her. Restraint was lost and her mouth opened in the cry of climax. It hadn’t taken long, but he’d warmed her up in the shower and he didn’t seem to be the type to leave anything undone.

  Heat inside her head made her thoughts blur and she felt groggy, like she’d just woken from a deep sleep.

  Ryske rose in front of her and brushed her hair away from her face. “I could’ve done that in the shower,” he murmured. “That wouldn’t have been so bad, would it?”

  Crooking her arms between them, she nestled against him when he wrapped both arms around her. “I wish you had a bedroom.”

  “We’re alone right here,” he said.

  Smiling, he started to descend for a kiss. As if on cue, the door opened, making her gasp. Only Ryske’s body concealed hers from the view of whoever was in the doorway. He turned his scowl on, twisting to land it on whoever had interrupted them.

  “We’ve got to get going,” Noon said. “I have that other thing to do later.”

  Ryske nodded once and the door closed, so she guessed that Noon was gone. “It’s amazing none of you can keep a girl when this is what she has to put up with.”

  “None of us ever brought a girl here,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Leaving her by the dresser, he went to another and pulled out his clothes to begin dressing.

  Harlow stayed there, folding her hands against the wood at her back. “None of you?”

  He glanced at her. “None—yeah, well, not since we were kids and Floyd was around. We were dumb teenagers back then, desperate to cop a feel.”

  Her lips curled until a laugh slipped out. “And that’s different than now… how?” He tossed a wink her way. “Guess I should say I’m privileged.”

  Grabbing a shirt from a rack close to him, he pulled a pair of sweats from another drawer and tossed both to her. “Didn’t have much choice with you.”

  She began to put on the apparel he’d thrown her way while he finished dressing. “Wow, you know how to make a woman feel special.”

  “Think I just did,” he said. Straightening after he finished pulling on his socks, he wiped the corner of his mouth like he’d just finished a meal. “You taste good, Trink.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” she said, crouching to fold up the sweats. She was going to look ridiculous, but at least she only had to get from here to Noon’s car and then into her apartment. “How long do you think I’ll be here?”

  Ryske ignored that last question and addressed the first thing she’d said. “You don’t like oral?”

  Eyeing the desk, she crossed the room and pushed aside some papers to look for a rubber band. She didn’t like tying her hair up with them, but it would be better than leaving it loose in the wind.

  Harlow sat in the desk chair to finger-comb her hair before scooping it up into a loose messy chignon. “I think as long as all this is going on, we have other things to focus on, don’t you?”

  Coming around to prop himself against the front of the desk, he folded his arms. “This is life, baby,” he said, bending over to kiss her. “If we wait until there’s none of this going on, we’ll never get it on.”

  She wrinkled her nose and tipped her head back to tease him. “Really bothers you that we haven’t had sex, doesn’t it?”

  “Shh,” he said in a mock pa
nic. “Don’t say that around here, someone might hear you.”

  “Wouldn’t want to dent that reputation of yours.”

  Bowing again, he tried to kiss her, but she leaned away. “We could take care of the oversight right now.”

  Struggling to hold onto her laugh, Harlow was about to let him kiss her when the door opened again.

  Ryske groaned. “Right! Fuck, Noon! We get it, you want to leave!” he called and glared back at his friend. “Remind me never to miss an opportunity to cock-block you.”

  The poor guy was standing there stunned by his friend’s outburst.

  Ryske took her hand and slid his other arm around her. “You’re coming?” she asked when he pulled her to her feet and began to guide her to the door.

  “Not as long as Noon’s got the chance to keep my dick out of your pussy,” Ryske grumbled, tossing another scowl at his friend as he guided her out of the room. “Prick.”

  She knew he didn’t mean it, and Noon didn’t really mean to interrupt them. Everyone was in close quarters, and she was sure they’d get used to living together. After all, it was only temporary.

  Once Hagan was dealt with and they’d figured out how to free her from his scope, Harlow would be able to go back to her life and Ryske’s crew could do the same.

  29

  It felt like an age since she’d seen her apartment. Harlow hadn’t lived there for long, so it wasn’t like she had a deep emotional attachment to the place. Still, it was nice to see that everything was where she’d left it.

  Wasting no time, Harlow got a suitcase and a sports bag out of the closet and began to pack her clothes. Ryske had made himself at home, leaping onto her bed to stretch his legs out while he leafed through the textbook she’d left on the nightstand.

  Noon loitered in the bedroom archway. “When was the last time you saw Rupert?”

  Harlow opened out her suitcase on the bed next to the sports bag, letting the lid fall onto Ryske’s legs. “Uh… a few weeks ago.”

  “But he works here in the city, right? Where does he live?”

  Taking some things out of the nightstand, she put them in the sports bag. “He works at Sweeting Securities,” she said, retrieving shoes from the closet. “So, yes, he works in the city… with my father. But he lives near my parents in the suburbs.”

  “That’s got to be a helluva commute.”

  “Only an hour or so either way,” she said, tossing Hagan’s shoes into the corner and shirking her sweatpants. Grabbing a skirt from a drawer, she wriggled into it under her shirt. After putting on her own shoes, she went to the dresser to collect more of her things. “How long am I going to be staying at Floyd’s? I never got an answer before.”

  Ryske turned the page of the book and tucked his hand behind his head again. “Bring everything silky or lacy you’ve got.”

  “I don’t wear lace,” she said and went into the closet.

  “You should wear lace,” Ryske called after her. “Want to stop at Victoria’s Secret on the way home?”

  Popping her head out of the closet, she pinned a glare on him, wondering if it would be wrong to swear at him for something her former fiancé had done to piss her off. “I dumped the last man who bought me lingerie.”

  As he arched a questioning brow, his chin rose. But, Harlow didn’t respond to his silent query because Noon spoke again. “You lived with him, didn’t you? You were going to marry him, you must have lived together.”

  With her stare locked on Ryske, it took Harlow a minute to catch on to what Noon was talking about. Shaking her head to force her gaze away from the man strewn on her bed, Harlow refocused. Ryske went back to his reading.

  “Rupert?” she asked. “Yes, we lived together for about a year. We moved in together after he proposed.”

  “Why are we talking about her jackass of an ex? The guy’s a fucktard who cheated on her. He’s a waste of air.” Ryske peeked at her over the top of the textbook. “He did cheat on you, right?”

  Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head, which made interest deepen his expression. “No, he did not cheat on me,” she asserted. “Geez, Ryske, what a thing to say to a woman you were intimate with this morning. Was it that bad?”

  Slapping the textbook shut, he sat upright. “No, baby. Shit, I’ll eat you right here. Right in front of Noon, if that’s what you want.”

  Leaning over the top of her bags, she took the textbook from him and put it inside. “I don’t want you to eat me at all and I definitely don’t want your friend to watch.”

  Settling back against the pillows, Ryske made himself comfortable again. “He’s less my friend now than he was before he started interrupting us every time you’re naked. But, you better get used to him watching, his bed is right next to ours.”

  “Reminding me of that only makes it less likely you’ll ever be allowed into that bed with me. I’m not sharing with you if you won’t promise to keep your hands to yourself.”

  “You said no promises,” he said, so cocky and proud of himself.

  Harlow had said that. To her, it was less about promises and more about decency. “It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

  His mouth opened wide. “Oh! Okay, yeah, I see what happened. You forgot you got with a criminal.” He smiled. “There’s not much that will stop me from getting what I want. The law won’t do it. Your lame objections sure won’t and if you’re relying on me being a gentleman…” Sneering, he shook his head. “You’ve gotta find yourself another guy, baby, ‘cause playing dirty is what I do.”

  “You’re saying if I’m in your bed, I have to let you into my panties?”

  He laughed. “Baby, I’m saying if you’re in my bed, you won’t be wearing panties. Panties are banned on women as beautiful as you.”

  “Given the lack of rules in your place, I can’t even keep a straight face while trying to buy that BS you’re selling. And I wore panties in your bed last night.”

  “That’s gonna be the exception.”

  “Whose choice was it not to live in the city?” Noon asked.

  Tearing her attention from Ryske again, Harlow tried to work out what the hell Noon was talking about. “I don’t know what—”

  “Rupert,” Noon said. “You must have talked about it.”

  Closing her eyes for a second, Harlow was trying to follow this conversation, the one with Ryske, and pack her things all at the same time. “He wanted to stay in suburbia, near my parents, and my job was there.”

  “Again with the ex,” Ryske said. “If you’ve got a hard on for the guy, ask him out, Noon. What the fuck? Why are you talking about him so much?”

  Noon lounged against the frame of the archway. “Just thinking, it might make sense for Nightingale to crash with him instead of us. She dumped him, and she’s hot, so he must still be into her. He’d take care of her.”

  Sitting up again, Ryske locked his straight arms behind him to support his weight. “You want my girl to go and sleep with the ex who wants to fuck her? Why the hell would I let that happen?”

  That wasn’t the first time he’d referred to her as his girl. The glow of that flattery was somewhat reduced by his use of the word “let.” Harlow didn’t want the man she ended up with to think she needed his permission for anything. Ryske might not be her white picket fence guy, as he’d admitted himself, but he was her right now guy.

  Playing with him was a good way to make her point. “Rupert never did get his goodbye lay,” she said. Contemplating it, she reached over to close the flap of her suitcase. “Might be nostalgic and romantic to do it in our bed again.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, Ryske slid onto his back and linked his hands behind his head.

  “You’re cool with that, Ryske?” Noon asked, dubious like he didn’t quite believe it. “Seems like you’re cool with it.”

  Ryske’s eyes shut. “I’m picturing what it will be like to decapitate a guy while his hands are on my girl.”

  “I know you’re not talking about me because I don
’t belong to anyone,” Harlow said, backing toward the closet.

  “And, I know you’re not going anywhere near your ex,” Ryske said, tipping his head to glare at Noon. “You’re an asshole for suggesting it.”

  “We’re not in the protection business,” Noon said. “I’m thinking about what’s best for Nightingale. We can take care of ourselves and each other, but—”

  Ryske straightened to lift his arm, presenting the line of stars on the back of his right forearm. “What’s that?” he said. “Highs and lows until we’re dirt in the ground.” Noon seemed nervous when he glanced at her. “That’s right. You fucking watch who you’re casting out—”

  “No, man, I wasn’t—”

  “I’ll let you men duke it out,” Harlow said to the quarreling pair.

  Heading into her closet, Harlow took her time about selecting clothes and things she’d need for a stay at Floyd’s. Whether it was a few days or a few weeks, Harlow wanted to be prepared for whatever might crop up and would always rather bring too much than too little. Anything she took to Floyd’s, she’d be able to bring back when this was over.

  Retrieving things from her closet, she put them in the suitcase and then went into the bathroom to pack up what she needed from there. Checking through what she’d stowed in her luggage to ensure that she had everything, Harlow didn’t pay much attention to Ryske and Noon’s conversation, which had moved onto something else.

  She changed her top and left Ryske’s clothes in her closet. The possibility that his possessions might find a home among hers was appealing. It was sentimental, but she would get away with it. He was a guy, he wouldn’t notice a missing shirt or pair of sweatpants.

  Both men were seated on the bed now, Ryske against the headboard and Noon at the end with his feet still on the floor. Neither looked her way when she passed by to go into the living room to gather her college things together.