Dover was still in the kitchen when Harlow got there. The first thing she saw when she rounded the fridge was him holding up a steaming mug of black coffee. She might have kissed him if his expression hadn’t morphed to confusion.
“Take a shower?”
“Something like that,” she said and accepted the coffee. Dover sat at the breakfast bar and pressed some buttons on a tablet laid there to open a news app. “I should call work.”
“Maze is going to check that out. He’s been in their system. You’ve been marked as being on personal leave this week.”
Whatever this week had been, it wasn’t personal leave, and she hadn’t requested it. Trying to figure out why her boss would put something like that on an official record when it wasn’t true, Harlow kept drinking her coffee.
Noon appeared around the corner from the bathroom. “When you’re dressed, I’ll take you over to your place to pick up your stuff,” he said.
She hadn’t expected to get a chance to go to her apartment, and looked at Dover, expecting him to object. It took Dover a second to register the silence. He raised his eyes from his app to see her waiting for his reaction.
“The rule is you’re not allowed to go anywhere without one of us,” Dover said and must have seen her surprise deepen. “You didn’t like the idea of being stuck in here twenty-four seven… don’t think I would either.”
Rushing around the breakfast bar, she hugged Dover as tight as she could without putting down her coffee. She’d still rather have her independence and would fight for it any chance she got. But being protected by Ryske’s crew was nothing like being locked up by Hagan.
“You watch those wandering hands of his, Trink.”
Ryske’s voice made her straighten from the hug, but it was Noon’s groan that made her turn around. “Do you gotta wave that thing around?”
In his full naked glory, Ryske went to the coffee machine, but found the pot almost empty, so he came over to take her cup. Dover didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t care about, Ryske’s nudity.
“You’ve got to be used to seeing it by now,” Dover muttered, going back to reading a story on his app. “Nightingale, you’ll find out there’s not a lot of boundaries around here.”
Apparently not. “I haven’t found one yet,” she said.
“There is one,” Ryske said, drinking from her mug. “An important one.”
“One?” she asked, taking the mug when he gave it back to her. “Where?”
Using his body to push her against the curved edge of the breakfast bar, he slipped a hand between the flaps of her towel. “A threshold not to be crossed… Right here.”
His fingertips just touched her pussy. Smacking both her hands to his chest, she shoved him back. “Whoa,” she said.
“A boundary for them, not a boundary for me,” he said, trying to reach for her, but she slapped his hand away.
“I’m going to get changed,” Harlow said, pinning a glare on him.
Ever confident, Ryske grinned at her.
Everything he did seemed designed to seduce or tease her. He might have touched her in intimate places, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to pick up where he left off with his friends watching.
Leaving the kitchen, she took her coffee into the room deemed the closet. It was a huge space, at least seventeen feet by twelve. Although it had once been intended as a bedroom, it wasn’t one anymore. There were racks of clothes and drawers, with overflowing hampers and a scattering of cufflinks and watches by the only mirror in the place.
It was a messy room, even the area rug was crooked. The filing cabinets were closed, but there were files piled on top and a mess of paperwork on the desk, which seemed to also be hiding a computer and printer. The couch in front of the closets faced into the room; it had a scattering of clothes on it too. These men weren’t poster boys for cleaning up after themselves.
The only way Harlow would have any chance of finding something clean to wear was to go searching through the drawers. Usually, she’d find such an invasion of someone else’s privacy distasteful. But when it was that or go outside in a towel, she’d pick the former every time.
Of the half a dozen dressers in the room, none of them matched. They did have one thing in common, they all looked kind of beat up. All were chest height or there about and broad enough to contain a wide selection of apparel.
Putting her coffee on top of one of the dressers, she began to peek in drawers. Leaving the underwear alone, she didn’t think there was any need for her to put on boxer-briefs, which seemed to be the choice of each man.
Shoes would be a problem. She’d have to wear her heels from last night.
“Your dress is right here.”
Turning away from the drawer she was exploring, Harlow discovered Ryske by the door, still naked, but holding up her dress.
“I don’t want to see that thing ever again,” she said, thinking she should’ve retrieved her bra from next to Ryske’s bed.
Heading for the door to do just that, she expected him to step aside, but he didn’t, which forced her to stop and meet his eye. “What I told you last night… Anwen and I, it was… complicated.” Raising his curled fingers to her jaw, he traced them across her skin, but she tilted her head away from his caress. “That doesn’t change this.”
“Doesn’t it?” she asked, taking his wrist to guide his hand away from her face. “You were honest with me, but… there’s something I didn’t tell you.”
Though his expression became more serious, he didn’t back off. “Nothing you could say would change how I feel about you, Trink.”
She believed him. Even knowing that he lied for a living, she didn’t believe he was insincere about his attraction to her. “This isn’t about our feelings… about us… it’s…”
His frown deepened and he shook his head once. “I don’t…”
“Ophelia,” she said. “She’s in love with you.”
The tension left him at the same time as the concern seeped away; he cupped her head, her ear in the crook between his thumb and forefinger. “She’s not your competition, Trink. That slap, it was part of the con. She wants her brother to think we’re together, she had to act jealous. I want to rile her brother, to provoke a reaction… I want him on a hair trigger with me, that’s why—”
“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 panic. “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.