Make Me: A Broke and Beautiful Novel (13 page)

Another shudder passed through Russell, and it sent realization coursing through Abby. An understanding that this man had made mistakes, maybe he would make even more, but his feelings for her were real. As real as hers for him. There was no room for a barrier between them at that moment, and she needed to take advantage. Find out why Russell would charge into an ocean for her but didn’t want a serious relationship. For crying out loud, from where she was standing, their relationship was more serious than most marriages she’d encountered among her parents and their friends.

“You don’t call anyone else angel.” She leaned back to meet his gaze. “I thought all the way back to our first hang out. Not a waitress, not my roommates. No one. You only call me that.”

She’d caught him at a weak moment, when he was still coming down off the imagined tragedy. It was evident in the way his eyes closed, his head tipped forward to rest against hers. “Yeah. I know.”

“Why would you tell me otherwise?” She swallowed what felt like a handful of pebbles. “Do you want to push me away?”

“You think there’s an easy answer to that?” The question burst out of him with the force of a gale wind, warming her face. “Yes and no. There’s your answer.”

“Why
yes
?”

Russell didn’t speak for a long stretch, just continuing to hold her so tightly, as if she might try and escape. They breathed together, bodies moving as one in a way that felt natural. How it was supposed to be. Abby didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes until Russell finally spoke, forcing them open. “Look at me, angel.” She leaned back and did as he asked, gulping in the face of such intensity. “Look at how fucked-up I am. You can’t even go for a walk without my being convinced the world is going to swallow you up. It’s not normal.”

Abby tried to interject—with
what,
she wasn’t sure—but he cut her off.

“There’s a reason.” His muscles tensed against her. “It’s not good enough. Nothing excuses the way I act when it comes to you. Remember that, okay?” He sucked in a breath. “I lost someone. My mother. She . . . died. It was a long time ago, but I remember what it felt like. It could have been prevented if we’d just found a way to make her feel better. And it’s not right, Abby, it’s not right, but I have to make sure I don’t feel that way ever again. You’re the only one who could make me. The
only
one.”

The taste of salt invaded Abby’s mouth, a mixture of tears and the surrounding ocean. Russell’s pain harpooned past her ribs and struck deep. She hadn’t been the only one keeping a secret, and it killed her. Killed her knowing he’d been harboring it on his own. She wanted to ask how his mother died, but the hurt radiating from him was already so profound, she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she clung to him like her life depended on it, laying kisses on his collarbone and neck, whispering comfort that only made sense to them.

“There’s more, Abby. She—my mother—would still be around if . . . if maybe she’d had a hero. I don’t know . . .”

Russell trailed off, and Abby waited, but he didn’t finish his thought. She didn’t want him to. She could practically feel the wounds gaping on his flesh where it pressed against her. He’d opened up enough for one night. The need to heal and distract rising within her was so powerful, it was almost visible in the air surrounding them.

She had the ability to make him forget his pain tonight.
Always
, if he’d let her. Hadn’t every secret shared, every touch exchanged, been leading to this moment? Heat tickled her belly, thinking of how Russell had been in the guest room, how in control he’d been . . . and all the while, just a hint
out
of control. Craving the experience again, needing to soothe the memories they’d dug up, Abby didn’t second-guess herself as she trailed her tongue up the side of Russell’s neck, breathing against his ear.

“Now tell me why you
don’t
want to push me away.”

Chapter 14

R
USS
ELL SLIPPED A
hand down Abby’s back, over her slick bathing suit. He wanted to peel off the tight nylon and see his girl naked in the moonlight, feel her bare ass in his grip, but he forced his hand into a fist at the base of her spine. And breathed. Which was a mistake because she smelled like white grapes with a hint of tequila. Naughty and nice, wrapped around his body, ready to give him everything.

She was giving him an out, this sweet, beautiful girl he loved. He really shouldn’t take it. Should come clean about everything. His insecurity over her money, his failed attempts to close that financial gap, his plan to try one final time. The reality of his family life . . . how that family had broken apart. Hell, he’d already chipped away at the dam, telling her something he hadn’t even told his friends. It had felt good. Right. Would he feel better for spilling everything?

“Russell,” she murmured at his mouth, obliterating his concentration. “Tell me the reason you can’t push me away.”

His heart drummed faster and faster, matching his breath. Jesus Christ. He knew what was coming, knew she would offer herself to him tonight. On a regular basis, he felt unworthy of Abby, but right now? Right now, she looked like some exotic mermaid, glowing under the night sky, the ocean as her backdrop. She wasn’t something a man like him was allowed to experience. A painfully sexy virgin, tempting him to fuck her on some rich man’s beach. It was like a pornographic postcard. Or it would be if he wasn’t prepared to die for this girl at the prompting of one, single word from her mouth.

“You know why I can’t stay away, angel. Work your hips up, and you’ll feel it.” Eyes sparking with excitement, Abby flexed her thighs around his waist, lifted, and rolled her body, gasping at the pronounced thickness inside his wet board shorts.
Shiiiit.
When had she started to move like that? She knew right where he needed to feel her pussy, knew to give a tight, little buck that conjured thoughts of his own hips doing the same. Only she’d be beneath him with her thighs spread. Christ, he needed to take this slow. Needed to make an
attempt
to deserve this. Deserve
her
. “Hey. Let me see your eyes, Abby.” Her hazel gaze was foggy as it lifted, snagged on him. It was a moment before he could speak normally. “I want your body. Want it bad as fuck. But I can’t stay away from you, Abby, because you’re
you
. Okay?”

“Okay,” Abby breathed. She went for his mouth with such unexpected eagerness, the impact of her taste sent him back a step in the water. Her moan as their tongues met had the effect of a smooth hand wrapping around his dick. The familiar voice that growled
mine
whenever he touched Abby increased in volume, competing with the ocean. Her thighs started moving restlessly on either side of him, climbing his waist and grinding down, all the while making these head-wrecking, whimpering noises when her sweet spot met his cock. Their mouths were competing for the best taste of one another, lips greedy and desperate.

Closer. Need her as close as possible.
With one arm wedged beneath her ass, Russell used the opposite hand to yank down the straps of her bathing suit. As soon as he got the stretchy material around her waist, he kissed down her neck and sucked each of her nipples in turn. “I can’t believe you’re going to let me inside this body. So hot . . . so smooth. I don’t belong there, but it’s mine all the same. Isn’t it?”

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she leaned back to give him a perfect view of her tits. “I don’t want anyone but you. How many ways can I say it?”

Goddamn.
If he didn’t get her out of the water and into someplace private, he would fuck her standing up. Which sounded
awesome
to his Abby-starved brain, but no way in hell would he cause her more pain than necessary. Keeping a tight hold on her, Russell began wading toward the shore, pausing every few feet to get his mouth on her nipples or kiss a whimper out of her. In the dark, pressed so close to the girl he craved, secrets contained inside his head so long made for the exit. “What I said . . . about how I worry about you. There’s a huge part of me that loves it, Abby.” His hands found her ass and kneaded. “I love covering your body up with my clothes. Being the one who gets you home safe. I love it. It’s
my
job.”

She brushed her lips over his ear, making him shiver. “I was mad at you earlier for ripping my bathing suit . . . but I wasn’t mad, too.”

“What do you mean?”

They reached the shore as she answered, Russell’s footsteps eating up the sand on his way to the closest cabana. “I’m still figuring it out. But . . . I know when you tied me up, I realized that’s what I’d wanted all along.” She rested her forehead against his. “Does that make sense?”

His heart squeezed, then boomed louder. Faster. Some part of him had known all along she was made for him. These unfamiliar impulses she’d woken inside him corresponded to hers. They couldn’t be wrong if she needed them, too, right? “Yes . . . I think it does make sense, angel. I hope like hell it does.”

They reached the cabana, and Russell shouldered past the hanging canvas that kept the inside private. Side-by-side beach chairs, reclined to their flat position, were just inside, and he quickly picked the left one, laying Abby down. When she kept her arms wrapped around him, he had no choice but to descend with her. Their positions stayed the same, but when laid vertical, his dick shoved between her thighs with five times the pressure and friction.

“Ahhh, fuck.” He captured her wrists and locked them over her head, giving her a tight twist of his hips. “I’m not a duke, Abby.”

Her eyes popped open on a moan. “W-what?”

No way.
No way he’d just said that
out loud
. Russell dropped his head into the crook of her neck, using the opportunity to feel her pulse against his lips. Because any second now, she’d realize she’d entrusted her virginity to a guy who took pointers from imaginary noblemen. “I, uh.” She ran her fingertips up his spine, and nothing had ever felt so amazing in his life. “My brother’s wife leaves these books lying around. Romance novels. And this duke—his name is Sebastian, but that’s not important—he . . . it was his girl’s first time. He went so slow, letting her get used to his . . . manhood.” Russell reached between their bodies and palmed Abby’s breasts. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Manhood?” Her body vibrated with laughter. “You read a romance novel for me?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “I’d
kill
for you, Abby.”

When her smile vanished, Russell wished he could snatch back the words, bury them back down where they belonged. At least, he wished it until she pushed up on her elbows and kissed him. Her tongue licked against his, slow and sweet, the teasing action making his dick thicken, an effect she felt right between her thighs, if the sexy purr she let out was any indication. “Russell,” she said, in a shaky whisper, “there might also be such a thing as going
too
slow.”

“I’ll remind you of that in a few minutes.” He slipped his hands down her rib cage, snagging the edges of her bathing suit. “I need a hit of that pussy first. It’s had me on edge all fucking day, wondering when I’m going to get a lick.” Russell moved to a kneeling position, growling at the way her bathing suit’s material hugged her core. Was it possible to be jealous of a piece of clothing? Yeah. When it came to her, anything was possible. Russell stripped the black suit down her legs and tossed it aside, every ounce of his blood rushing south at the site of her. Bare and waiting. “Come on, angel. I want those knees pointed at opposite ends of the beach.”

His harsh speech started her tits rising and falling with deep gulps of breath. A naked, beautiful, goddamn sight he could feel branding itself in his memory bank. But she hesitated. “I’m . . . are you supposed to put your mouth there when I’m already so wet?”

Praying like hell he wouldn’t come in his board shorts, Russell pushed her thighs open and fell on her with a groan. A groan that didn’t stop as he lapped at Abby, delved his tongue inside her heat and worshipped that tiny bud with his lips. He swore he could taste her shyness, and it cranked his lust to a fevered state, giving him no choice but to release his cock, the hungry weight of it dropping down onto the reclined chair. “
Damn.
Maybe I shouldn’t have gone down on you.” He licked up her belly, over the taut flesh between her tits. When he reached Abby’s neck, he scraped his teeth up and down the sensitive skin, his way of comforting her while his knuckles dragged over her pussy. “How am I going to hold off on fucking you hard when I can taste how much you want it?”

“I don’t know.” She arched her back. “P-please keep doing that.”

Russell braced himself to have his fingers inside Abby for the first time. “You know how many times I’ve fantasized about slipping my hand into your panties and giving you an orgasm?” He rotated his finger and added another, pushing into her tight entrance with a curse. “The one that always gets me off is picturing you on my lap in the bar, while I stroke your clit under the table.” He followed through on his words with a rough thumb, gritting his teeth as she jolted on the chair. “Would you have played along, Abby? Let me finger-fuck you beneath one of those loose skirts?”

“
Yes.
” Her belly hollowed and shook, her hands grabbing at his wrist, pressing his touch closer. “I would have done anything. I’ll do
anything
.”

“Do anything for what?”

Like she’d been transported straight from his filthiest subconscious, she threw both arms over her head and begged him beneath heavy eyelids. “You know what I need, Russell. You always know.”

That was the end of going slow. He slid both fingers from inside her, using them to circle her clit, faster and faster. “Come.
Come
so I can give you the real thing.”

As always when she climaxed, her heels dug in, hips lifting. He fucking
loved
knowing that about her. Loved knowing that no one else would ever know but him. Dampness met his fingers as she twisted on the chair. “
Russell.
Feels so
good
.”

A drumbeat ricocheted around his skull. He didn’t even register positioning himself between her thighs until he was there, running the head of his dick through her wetness.
Need need need.
With one hand, he shoved the confining shorts down and felt a hard slap against his thigh. His wallet. Condom.
Condom
. Jesus, what if he’d forgotten? Hoping Abby hadn’t noticed his almost slip, Russell drew out the leather wallet and ripped out the single condom, opening it with his teeth.

She shifted beneath him. “Do you always carry those with you?”

He marveled over the touch of self-consciousness in her voice. Had he not made it clear as crystal that other girls might as well be invisible for all the attention he paid them? If she hadn’t gotten the message, they weren’t moving forward until she did. “Give me your hand,” he demanded, rising up over her. When she did as he asked without question, he curled her fingers around his dick. “I bought them the night you hurt your ankle.” He watched that sink in. “I knew I’d never be able to say no if we got here. And what is my job, angel?”

“Worrying about me,” she murmured into the near darkness. “Protecting me.”

“That’s right.” Slowly, he thrust his cock into her grip. “
Abby’s.
That’s Abby’s.”

Eyes unfocused, she grazed his sides with her knees. “Show me.”

Russell rolled on the latex, then fisted his hardness. He pushed the tip inside her, stopping when a shudder wracked him. “I’m afraid to hear you scream. I don’t want to know what a bad scream sounds like from you.” He aligned their bodies, both of their skin having grown slick in the summer heat. “If you need to, do it into my shoulder.”

Abby nodded and placed her lips where he’d indicated. They plumped against his shoulder, reminding him they’d been on his dick just hours earlier.
Don’t even think about a replay, or you’ll never last.
The anticipation, the excitement in her eyes, the churning need for release clawing to get out became too much, and he shoved deeper, wincing at the tight fit. Something else was happening, too. A bone-deep impulse to ram himself home and lay claim to her in an irreversible way. Dammit, this is what he’d been terrified of. This ever-present conflict when it came to Abby. Never—ever—wanting to harm her while experiencing the sense that she wanted an unknown amount of . . . force.

“Russell, more plea—”

He drove his remaining inches inside Abby, her choked cry splitting the air between them. His instincts propelled him forward to cut it off with his mouth. Comforting words tried to find their way up his throat, but the pleasure choked him, made it impossible to speak. He hadn’t been ready. Never would have been ready for the tight clutch of her pussy, the sensation of her feet digging into his ass. Was she struggling or attempting to move, to get closer? He couldn’t hear or discern a goddamn thing over the rushing between his ears.
Wake up, asshole.

“I won’t move. I won’t. Just tell me when—”

“Now.
Now
, please.”

“Thank fuck,” he growled, rearing back with his hips and fucking into her with a satisfying slap of damp flesh. “
Ahhh God.
Am I hurting you?” How would he stop if he
was
? It would be worse than losing a limb. Getting impatient for a response, he pushed her knees up toward her elbows and bore down. “An answer, Abby.”

“A little. It hurts a little.” Her teeth raked over her bottom lip. “But if you stop, it’ll hurt worse.
Please.
”

Not helping. She was as conflicted as him. “I waited too long. Let it build up too much. All this fucking
want
.” Another tether inside him snapped loose, setting free the enveloping need to shake the confusion out of them both, force a decision. Russell lost his grip on control, or maybe he did it voluntarily. In one hand, he pinned Abby’s wrists over her head, bringing them face-to-face. A flicker of relief and encouragement made her eyes sparkle.
Please don’t let me be imagining it.
With the opposite hand, he gripped her jaw and tilted her head back in a single, rough movement. When he spoke, it was right up against her ear. “What did I tell you in my house that day, Abby? What do I want to do to you?”