39
Opening the door to Ryske’s room, she zeroed in on her man in the middle of the couch. Penzance and Maze were in the same positions as before. Parratt was in the corner, but she only looked at Ryske.
“Miss me?” Ryske asked.
Harlow started to strut toward him. “Feels like you’re punishing me when you send me away.”
He smacked his thighs. “Come tell me what you want for Christmas.”
Skirting the small table in front of the couch, she climbed on to straddle his lap. He slid a hand into each of the slits in her dress to snake his hands around to her a*s.
Leaning in, she kissed his mouth, but trailed her lips to his ear. “She’s with us,” she whispered.
His mouth was lost in her hair. “We own him.”
One of Ryske’s hands stayed under her dress, slithering around to press her
