Make Me: A Broke and Beautiful Novel (17 page)

God, she loved this man. Odd that her heart would pick this moment of asserting her independence to remind her. Odd and unacceptable. There it was, though. This bone-deep knowledge that if she could be this
furious
with him while still aching to hold him close and soothe his sadness . . . it was real, bone-deep love. The kind that would never go away unless she did something about it. Her heart told her to step back and examine the situation from all angles before trying to exorcise Russell’s hold on her, but the newfound stubbornness that had served her so well of late smothered the inclination.

Abby tossed her hair and sailed toward Russell, who backed away with an expression that said he knew resistance was futile. When she slid a hand into the front waistband of his jeans and walked them backwards, toward the bathroom, he came as if in a trance. “We need to
talk
, Abby.”

They entered the bathroom, both of them immediately enveloped in steam. She used her free hand to close the door, then pushed Russell’s big frame up against it. “Let’s get the fun part out of the way first.” She slipped her hands beneath his T-shirt and scratched his abs with her fingernails before dragging them lower, lower, and unfastening his belt. His erection was prominent beneath her hands, and she reveled in knowing the attraction ran deep, even if it was where their relationship ended. “Five days
is
a long time.” She inwardly cursed at the quaver in her voice. “How are you going to make up for it?”

“Any way you want. As soon as you let me explain everything.”

“No.”

“
Yes.
”

She went up on her toes and got in his face. “
No
—”

Russell seized her wrists and pulled them behind her back, wrenching a gasp free from her mouth. The fight went out of her instantly. She sagged against him, as if her bones had liquefied, her body held up between his grip and muscular body. It shocked even
her
how swiftly every nuance of her being responded to the show of authority. Blood whizzed through her veins, rejoicing, anticipating an outlet for pent-up energy and tension she hadn’t been aware of holding hostage.

Russell’s breath was labored, gaze unfocused. “I’m trying to control this thing, angel. You have to help me.” Tortured eyes fell to her parted mouth. “Show me where I hurt you, so I’ll stop.”

Her fingers twitched behind her back with the need to indicate the center of her chest. “What do you mean?”

“The bruises.” He released Abby’s hands, stacking his own atop his head, falling back against the door. “Show me how bad I am for you, as if I didn’t already know. As if I don’t think about it every hour of the day.”

“Bruises,” she whispered, a dull pain forming in her side. “How . . . who told you—” Her mouth snapped shut at the memory of Mitchell’s shrewd, seemingly innocuous glance at her wrists the morning after they’d spent the night at the beach.

“The lawyer said you were upset. He asked me if I bruise up girls. I’ve been sick for days, Abby. So fucking sick.”

Her knees almost buckled under the weight of relief. It all made sense now. Why he’d left without saying good-bye. Why he’d stayed away. Her big protector thought he’d hurt her. He’d been put through five days of torture for no reason. They both had.

“Russell.” She smoothed her hands up the sides of his face. “You didn’t hurt me. Or, when you did, it changed into something that felt good.” Steam drifted between them, obscuring his face, so she moved closer. “I was coming back down to the beach so we could do it all again.”

His long exhale of breath shifted the steam. “Is that true? You weren’t upset?” He dropped his hands to his sides, and she could feel the effort he put into not reaching for her. “I was so rough for your first time . . . there are nail marks all over my back. I don’t even remember your leaving them.”

It turned her on hearing that. Made her feel possessive in a new, momentous way. “We left marks on each other, then.” She swiped her rapidly dampening hair back from her face. “Is it wrong that I like that?”

“I don’t
know
,” he grated. “But I’m making a promise to you, Abby. If you give me a chance, we’ll find out together. Find out everything about these things I feel and make sure they aren’t bad for you.”

“For us. Bad for
us
.” She licked the condensation from her lips. “And I feel them, too, in a different way. In . . . reverse.” Her voice sounded fainter in the drumming of her pulse. It was coming. They were going to be together again, and she could barely breathe around the eagerness. Praying he wouldn’t protest or insist they talk more, Abby went up on her toes and lifted Russell’s shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. Oh boy. Had he gotten bigger, more cut? The heat inside the bathroom had caused him to perspire, making his rising and falling chest glow with masculine sweat. “Will you take a shower with me?”

His Adam’s apple rose and dropped. “There’s more to talk about.”

No. She wasn’t having that. Anticipation pumped too brightly, consuming her from the middle and radiating out. Keeping her gaze locked with Russell’s fevered one, she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down, leaving him in a pair of white boxer briefs. She couldn’t help perusing the body she’d revealed. The sweat dripping down his stomach, absorbing into the hem of his underwear, made her tongue jealous. “I have this fantasy where you . . .”

“What?” he prompted in a harsh voice.

“You wash me in the shower.”

Chapter 18

U
NTIL NOW, HE’D
been attempting to keep his attention glued above Abby’s neck, but with the uttering of those words, Russell broke. He groaned and swayed toward her, preying on her breasts with eyes starved for the sight of her flesh. She’d known—
known
– he’d have the corresponding desire. It was there in her knowing expression, the way she lowered her chin and regarded him through long eyelashes. Yeah, she’d known the act of caring for her would be the ultimate temptation. Caring for his Abby.
Doing
for her.

His cock stretched longer inside the damp boxer briefs, feeling strangled. He bent down and ripped a condom from his pants pocket, impatience spurring him toward Abby and
fuck
, somehow the way she backed away with that . . .
obedient
expression made him feel like a king. Her king. And her king was feeling thick below the waist and ready to blow.

“The way you’re looking at me is a fucking hazard, Abby.”

“Should I stop?”

Christ, with every word, every movement, she handed him more and more control. After a week of solitary confinement, he was sprinting past the prison walls.
Not going back. I can’t go back.
“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

Her back hit the glass shower door, shaking it. “Okay.”

She turned and started to climb into the running shower, but a vision of her slipping had Russell lunging forward to help. After that, touching her dewy, bare skin, he was totally fucked. With Abby’s back to his front, he walked them under the spray, groaning louder with each step. Couldn’t help it with the way her ass cheeks lifted and fell against his dick. “Getting ready to touch yourself, were you?” He tugged her head to the side and nipped hard at her ear. “Were you going to stroke where my fingers stroked? Push your fingers into that tight little space where my cock goes?” Her nod was jerky. “Turn around and see what you’re getting instead.”

He didn’t wait for her to move but spun her himself. Droplets of water had the privilege of spotting her face, her neck, her tits, reminding him of where he’d come their first time together. How she’d looked wearing him in the filtered moonlight.

“I’m coming between your thighs this time, understand?” Russell nudged her belly with his pulsing dick
.
“Ah fuck, what I’ve got stored up for you . . .” He scraped the foil edge of the condom wrapper down Abby’s spine and felt her shake, heard the whimper he’d missed like hell.
Craved.
“We’ll catch it with this for now, but someday, there won’t be a goddamn thing between us.”

She nodded, her gaze dropping to his boxer briefs and the flesh they barely contained. Watching her closely, Russell jerked the waistband halfway down his length, letting the elastic hold it up against his stomach. Her tongue skated out, her body dipping, as if she meant to service him from her knees.

With a harsh noise, Russell gripped her arm and pulled her upright. “No, Abby.” He steadied himself with a fortifying breath. “When I said I’ve got it stored up for you, I meant it. I haven’t touched myself since we were together. I wouldn’t last a second in that mouth.”

She traced a finger down his chest, ending at his belly button, circling it once. Twice. “Later?”

His throat dried up. “Are you asking me if you can suck my cock later, Abby?”

“Yes,” she breathed, hazel peeking out from beneath her eyelashes. “I’m asking you.”

The way she made him feel in charge was again releasing the powerful urges he’d allowed to run free that night on the beach. He reminded himself that she hadn’t been upset or hurt. That she’d wanted more. More. Russell reached behind Abby and gathered a handful of shower spray, bringing the water between their bodies and letting it wash over his erection. “Look down at me.” He nudged the waistband down a little more, revealing another inch of himself. “Does it make you want to touch your pussy?”

“No. It makes me want
you
to touch it.”

His moan echoed off the wet tiles. “You have that soap that makes you smell like white-grape sunlight? I’m going to rub it over every inch of you.”

As if magnetized, their mouths hovered closer as Abby reached blindly for the plastic bottle. “Can I wash you, too?”

“Later.” He brushed their steam-coated lips together. “A lot of things will have to wait until later, angel. Right now, I’m just trying not to jerk off to the sight of you.” When her eyes went glassy, Russell laughed through the pain. “That turns you on, doesn’t it? My girl isn’t so innocent anymore.”

She was staring at his lips, giving him no choice but to kiss her . . .
and kiss her and kiss her
until her thighs turned restless against his, her stomach pressing and lifting where it met his cock. Tight nipples dragged through his chest hair, making him feel too big for his skin all over. He rolled the condom on and dropped the wrapper, freeing his hand to palm her wet backside, massage the taut cheeks in time with his tongue dipping past her lips. The ends of her hair tickled his wrists and forearms, a product of her head falling back to receive the rapidly intensifying kiss. If he didn’t break away from her mouth, he’d lift her onto his erection and take her too hard. But no. He wanted to take his time. It had been over too fast on the beach. He’d come here to fix everything, to reassure her. Had he accomplished that? No, not yet.

With a low groan, Russell tore away. “Everything is going to be okay now, Abby. No more games, okay? Everything is fixed now, okay?”

She slipped the bottle of body wash into his hand. “Talk after.” Russell wanted to clasp both sides of her face and talk, talk, talk until everything poured out . . . but his body agreed with
after
. After he got over the worst of his lust and could focus. She needed it, too. As if to prove his thoughts true, she shoved his briefs down, making his dick drop heavily between his shower-dampened thighs.
Fuuuuuck.
“Stop thinking, okay? The way you look . . . it’s making me so hot.”

“
Stop.
” Russell slicked a hand down her belly, nudged her pussy with his knuckles. “I can’t concentrate when you say things like that.”

“
Good.
”

Stepping back to get an eyeful of her wet curves, Russell poured some body wash into his hands and set the bottle aside. “Is that where your fantasy ends? Being washed by me?”

Abby shook her head, making her sexy, palm-sized tits jiggle. “No.”

“Good,” he said, echoing her sentiment. His hands gravitated to those pretty mounds first, squeezing and lifting, rubbing her nipples with his palms. The harder he rubbed, the more she moaned, so he followed his instincts and pinched them between his index and middle fingers. He felt her knees shoot together, the rough touch affecting her where it counted. “I’m going to learn every little thing that gets you off. I want to know a hundred different ways.” He grabbed the bottle and poured more body wash into his hand. She must have known what was coming because she held her breath as he reached down and cupped her pussy. “This is where your fantasy ends, isn’t it?” He knelt in front of her, working her sensitive flesh, feasting on her with his eyes. “I’ll never fuck you until you’ve been licked here, angel. It’s a personal rule. Need to worship it before I take it.”

“I can live with that,” she gasped. He gathered a handful of shower spray to wash away the soap, his cock jerking at the sight of water rushing over her smoothness. Compelled, he licked out and took his first taste, just a gentle lapping of her clit. And
oh shit
. That white-grape scent that drove him crazy was now a flavor, going all the way back to his throat. His hands moved on their own, digging into her ass cheeks and yanking her forward, grinding her pussy against his mouth. He delved with his tongue and sucked, her cries to keep going entirely unnecessary. Making him stop would be like dragging an alcoholic from their first morning drink. “Russell, I’m . . . going to—”

When she broke off in a scream, the wet, shaking perfection against his lips would have sent him crashing to his knees if he weren’t already there. His hand dropped from her ass to stroke his length, fast and rough, mind spinning in circles with the taste of Abby. But when her foot slipped on the bathtub floor, and she wobbled, Russell shot forward with a shout, wrapping his arms around her middle. Somehow, the residual fear of Abby’s getting hurt only made his urgency to get inside her soar. “Need to get you out of this tub . . . you could slip—”

“No. Please, I need—”

“Can’t chance it.” He was already out of the shower, dragging Abby into his arms and carrying her to the sink vanity. And Jesus, Abby dripping wet, looking well pleasured and slightly miffed, was just about the sexiest goddamn thing he’d ever seen in his life. Feeling a surge of love and protectiveness so strong he could barely breathe, Russell pressed their foreheads together. “Do I need to remind you I’d lose my mind if something happened to you?
Do I?
”

“No,” she whispered, the irritation fading from her eyes, once again being replaced with heat. “Even if I don’t understand it . . . it’s you. My Russell.”

“Say that again,” he begged, squeezing her hips in his hands.

She surprised him by turning around, locking her gaze on his reflection in the fogged-up mirror. Then she pressed her ass into his lap and twisted her hips, ruining him for any other experience life had to offer. “
My
Russell.”

His cock surged under her declaration of ownership—ownership he hadn’t known he’d been craving—blowing his restraint out of the water. He gripped his throbbing inches and tucked the head between her smooth thighs. “This how you want it, angel? A little dirty? You want to watch me try to hold back and fail?” He pushed the top half of her body forward, looked down at her sweet, perked-up ass. “Ah, Christ. This is going to end with you screaming.”

She reached back and urged his hips forward. “I
want
to scream.”

Goddamn.
Russell wedged his forearm between her stomach and the vanity, refusing to leave a single mark on her body this time. He gripped her chin in the opposite hand, tilting her face up. “I don’t ever want to be inside anyone else, Abby. I want you to unzip my pants whenever you’re wet and know I’ve been waiting—just fucking
waiting—
to get inside my girl’s pussy. I want you to forget how it feels to sit down anywhere but my lap, right on top of my dick. Yours. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

Her eyes had darkened with each word, her breath joining the steam to fog up the mirror. “I want that, too. All of it.”

“You have it.” He pressed his mouth to her ear, gave a quick pump of his hips against her still-slippery ass. “You’re tight enough without your thighs squeezed together. Spread them for me, Abby.”

She’d only put a sliver of room between her legs when Russell thrust his entire length inside her. His hand dropped from her chin to catch her when she fell forward with a muffled cry. “Oh my God. So big . . . so big.”

“
Jesus.
” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t say
that
.”

Her breaths came out sounding more like sobs. “Y-you don’t like hearing that?”

“
Every
guy likes hearing that, Abby.” He ran his teeth up the side of her neck, struggling like hell to maintain some sense of control. Over his body. Over his emotions. “Just save it for next time, okay? When I don’t have five days’ worth of needing to fuck you weighing down my balls.” He reared back and thrust deep, felt her pussy stretch around him. “You feel it?”

“
Yes.
I feel it, I feel it.”

Knowing he only had a few minutes before he lost the battle with his lust, Russell dropped his forehead onto Abby’s shoulder and set a slow rhythm. “It’s got to be inside you this time. I’m not pulling out of all this tightness.”

“I don’t want you to,” she breathed. “Please, don’t.”

Ah God, the little muscles in her pussy were gripping him, making each stroke mind-blowing. So fucking hot that his pace kicked up a notch, as he’d known it would. The heavy flesh hanging between his thighs slapped her with each pleasure-seeking drive, echoing off the slick bathroom tile. He was grunting like a goddamn animal, and he didn’t give a fuck, it felt so good.

Abby pushed her legs apart a few more inches, and white light flashed in his vision. No way he’d just sunk even deeper.
No way.
He lifted his head to see her eyes closed tight, mouth open, tits bouncing as he broke her off.

And felt his control begin to slip. “Hips tilted back. The way you do when I’m giving you my mouth. I want your ass up on my stomach.
Do it.
” His hand found her backside, palm tingling with the need to slap it. But he tamped down on the impulse and drove into her harder, instead. Harder,
harder
. “Ask me for it, Abby. Ask me to give you what I’ve been storing up.”

Her voice vibrated as she bounced. “Please, can I have it?”

“This?” He reached around and found her clit, teased the bud with his middle finger. “You want this?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, imploring his reflection. “But I want . . . I want you to use your hand on me. I can tell . . . can tell you want it.”

Russell cursed at the realization that his left hand held her ass in a punishing grip, to prevent himself from spanking that supple flesh. Fuck, the sight, her request, made him thrust all the harder. “No. Not until I know how not to hurt you.”

She fell forward onto the sink, bracing herself on two elbows. “
Please.
”

Slap. Slapslapslap.
The pinpricks of disappointment in his lack of restraint were eclipsed by Abby’s response. She moaned, body writhing as the flesh that held him captive tightened on his cock, shaking the climax right out of him. Demanding he follow her into the oblivion she created. Russell buried his forehead into her upper back and growled as achy pressure drained from below his waist. His arms banded around Abby, dragging her upright.
Absorb her. Crawl inside her. Mine. Mine. Can’t get close enough. Love her. Love her so much.