Make Me: A Broke and Beautiful Novel (8 page)

“
Russell,
” she cried, reaching out to tug his head closer, without shame. She had no capacity to feel anything but beautiful, blazing relief as every muscle she possessed clenched like an iron fist. “I can’t breathe.”

Abby didn’t realize her eyes were closed until they opened to find Russell standing over her . . . with his erection in his hand. It looked heavy and painful as his touch moved base to tip in hurried movements, his ridged abdomen flexing as he stroked. “Jesus, I’m sorry. It’s too much. You know how fucking sweet you taste?”

“What do you need?” The words tumbled out before she knew what they meant. Russell’s agonized groan hit her with a brutal punch, forcing her into a sitting position. “Do you want me to—”

He let go of his erection. Abby only had a second to watch in fascination as it bobbed against his belly, before he yanked her off the table, spun her around and bent her forward. “Say what you were going to say,” he demanded, laying his arousal on her backside and pumping his fist around it once more. “Do I want you to
what
?”

A mixture of shock and renewed heat coursed through her. She focused on the latter, marveling over how desired it made her feel. How
bad
. “Do you want me to suck it, Russell?”

Her name sounded strangled as he shouted it, just before she felt warm moisture coating her bottom. “Ah, Christ.
Christ.
That ass has been teasing me for months. I’d love to give it a good fucking
smack
.”

“Do it,” she gasped, craving the new, the unexpected. Wanting to ease the misery she’d seen etched into his face even if she didn’t fully understand how it would help. “Please.”

Abby’s body jolted against the table, hips bumping the hard edge as Russell’s palm connected with her offered bottom. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry, fingers scratching at the table’s surface.
Oh. I-I want more of that.
A new, almost stickier pleasure ticked the inside of her thighs, feathered the inside of her belly. She wanted Russell to do it again so she could explore the new development, but her backside was covered with soft material—a T-shirt?—the evidence of what they’d done being wiped away.

When Russell finished, she turned to find him facing the other direction, refastening his jeans. His shoulder and back muscles were tense, movements jerky. Abby’s self-consciousness didn’t just creep in—it
roared—
until he glanced at her over his shoulder and she saw shame in his gaze as it moved over her.

“God
dammit
.” His hands found his hips, head falling forward. “I told you, Abby. I told you, and you wouldn’t
listen
.” Then quieter, “I’m sorry, angel.”

Abby crossed to her discarded dress and stepped inside, pulling it back up around her, feeling as though she was preparing for battle. No . . . there
was
a battle there, right in front of her. Intuition wouldn’t let her deny it. The battle might not end today or in the near future. She didn’t know what the outcome would be should she lose or win. But she had no choice but to fight. Starting now. “I’m not sorry.”

“Oh, yeah?” His boots scraped on the floor as he turned, visibly pissed off. “Do you have any idea where these . . . things I want to do to you end? I don’t. I don’t
know
.” His Adam’s apple rose and fell. “How can I want to protect you and want to do them at the same time?”

Abby’s heart lurched. “Do you only want to do them to me?”

His breath whooshed out. An answer seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, but he turned away and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “This can’t be permanent, Abby. I’m sorry if that’s what you expected, but—”

“You’re not in the market for a girlfriend. I remember that part.” Pain and embarrassment threatened, but she kept her features schooled. Again, she experienced the feeling that something was eluding her. Sure, her physical relationships with men had been limited to awkward high-school dances and the rare kiss, but she couldn’t remember any of them behaving like Russell did when they touched. Would he treat
any
girl the same way? Her intuition said no, but if she pushed and turned out to be wrong, the resulting humiliation would be awful.

So he didn’t want a girlfriend. Did she want Russell to be her
boyfriend
? She hadn’t allowed herself to consider it, but now that her mind had presented the question?

Yes. Yes, if that meant spending more time with him. Having him touch her whenever she wanted. At the very least, she wanted to
try
, but only if Russell wanted it, too. He didn’t. Should she leave, then? Forget today ever happened? Or trust her gut, trust him, and have faith the missing puzzle piece would eventually fall into place? The alternative was leaving now, letting Russell go on believing she deserved someone better and losing her chance to explore this daring, new side of herself. And wow, it had felt good letting her inhibitions go and just
feeling
.

“I don’t need a boyfriend,” she said, even though it felt dishonest. Even though it made her throat tighten. So she tempered it with honesty. “But I need this.”

Russell paled. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“What am I doing to you?” Abby waited, but he didn’t answer, merely watched her like she’d just buried an ice pick in his chest. It made no sense. He was attracted to her but didn’t want a relationship. Shouldn’t her offer make him happy? “You, uh . . . you don’t have to answer now. I need to get back to work, anyway. So . . .” She headed in the direction of the door, having to bypass Russell to get there. His tense energy warned her to give him space, but she didn’t want to get used to avoiding him, so she stopped and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Bye, Russell.”

He didn’t say a word or move a muscle as she left the room.

Chapter 9

R
USSEL
L MADE SURE
no one was watching as he cracked open the beat-up paperback book and continued reading. If Alec caught him reading a romance novel on his lunch break, the ball-breaking he’d receive would be the stuff of nightmares. Honestly, he would deserve every painful second of it, but nothing could force him to put the goddamn thing down. It had started as a guilty exploration, or possibly his newly revealed masochistic streak, but when he’d noticed Darcy reading
The Dark Duke’s Virgin Bride
over breakfast, he’d pocketed it without a second thought. Unfortunately, the more Russell read, the certainty that he was screwed with Abby only amplified.

With another furtive glance over his shoulder, he read on.

Dreading the inevitable pain he would cause Violet, Sebastian paused at the barrier of her virginity, sucking in a breath at the loveliness of her naked body. The way her breasts shook with excited breaths, even though her eyes held a touch of nerves.

Right. Okay. Russell was with the Duke so far. Hot virgin. Check. Shaking breasts. Double check.

Violet’s bit her lip as Sebastian pushed forward, speaking of discomfort that couldn’t be avoided. He tried to console himself with the knowledge her pain would only be temporary. That she would finally be his.

This is where the head shaking started. The duke was one selfish motherfucker, wasn’t he? As far as Russell could tell, Violet hadn’t wanted any part of the marriage to some weird-ass recluse in the first place. She’d only agreed to wed the dude to save her disgraced family from bankruptcy. Didn’t the duke give a shit that he was taking away her freedom? She’d be stuck with him for
life
.

Sebastian braced his hands on either side of Violet’s hips and whispered a heartfelt apology beside her temple. With a single, measured drive, he claimed his bride as his wife in every sense of the word. Her body tensed beneath his much larger one, a cry of surprise passing her lips. “I’m sorry,” Sebastian rasped, sweat beginning to dot his brow. “The pain will pass in but a moment. I won’t move until then, but . . . ah, you feel so perfect, Violet.”

Russell shoved the book into his glove compartment, wondering why the hell he’d waited to read the sex scene while at work. Operating a buzz saw with a hard-on probably wasn’t the wisest move.

“Damn books should come with a warning,” he muttered, adjusting his cock through his work pants. Nothing could stop him from replacing himself with the duke and the lip-biting Violet with Abby, however. Which was completely out of bounds. Before yesterday, he’d only dreamed of going all the way with Abby in moments of total weakness. Since she’d shown up with cupcakes and offered to get on her knees for him? He’d mentally fucked sweet, little Abby up one side and down the other, in several positions, in every room in his house. Immediately after he came—every single time—he would renew his vow never to sleep with her in real life.
Never.
He could
not
let it happen. But nothing short of a lobotomy could stop him from picturing it. Over and over and
fuuuuuck
.

Would Abby cry out in pain like that when he got inside her? The duke was a class-A prick in Russell’s estimation, but man, the way he’d just stayed still while Violet got used to him? Admirable. Russell was pretty sure he’d fail then and there. When he got physical with Abby, something inside him took over. He’d never been gentle in bed, but he’d never spanked a girl. He’d never wanted to pin a girl down and never let her up, the impulse so intense it choked him.
Scared
him. If he hurt Abby, going on with his life would be torture. Every waking minute would hurt.

But that’s exactly what he was considering, wasn’t it?
I don’t need a boyfriend, but I need this.
Need. Abby
needed
something from him, and his every instinct, at all times, demanded he give her anything and everything she needed. It was a compulsion. An honor. His intention yesterday had been to drive her away, show her how unworthy he was, what an asshole he could be. Instead of cursing at him in Italian as he’d expected, she . . . she’d kissed his cheek.

Russell realized his palm was pressed to the side of his face and forced his hand to drop. If she’d only stormed out, calling him every name in the book.
That
he might have been able to handle. But she’d offered him no-strings-attached sex, and he didn’t know if enough nobility in the world existed for him to pass that up. Not with Abby. Maybe he could say no at that moment, but put her in front of him with her dress off again? He’d be a fucking goner.

Having a physical relationship with Abby without labeling her as his girlfriend was low.
So
damn low. Move over Duke Sebastian, there’s a new dickhead in town. But Russell had woken up this morning with a glimmer of hope lodged in his rib cage, refusing to budge.
What if. What if. What if.
He had the bank meeting next week. If by some miracle he secured the loan, Hart Brothers Construction could go to the next level. It would take a shit ton of hard work, but it would be enough to give a comfortable life to Abby. More comfortable than the one his father had provided his mother. And if Russell could have Abby in his life, he’d work fifteen jobs and still take side gigs.

So, as of now, he had a plan. A plan to be with Abby if everything went exactly right. If he managed to put on a suit and convince the loan officer he was a responsible man with a vision to expand his business, he’d ask her to be patient while he built it into the best damn construction company in New York City. He couldn’t believe he was allowing himself to even consider a future with her, but after yesterday, resistance was futile. He
needed
Abby.

Now he just had to avoid her until then, so he didn’t fuck everything up. He couldn’t allow them to become friends with benefits, something that would be beneath her. God, did she really believe that was all he wanted to offer her? Thought he didn’t feel enough to give her the real thing? Knowing that hurt after how close they’d become, but he’d fix it. He’d fix everything soon.

A knock on his truck window sent him shooting up in the driver’s seat, his head hitting the ceiling with a bang. “What the—” He turned to find Ben staring back at him through the window, sipping a paper cup of coffee and looking highly amused. He stepped back when Russell pushed the door open. “What are you on a field trip or something, professor?”

“Nope.” Ben surveyed the construction site. “Although, I have no doubt my English students would learn some colorful language here.”

“Fucking-a.” Russell shut the driver’s side door and leaned against the sun-heated side. “What brings you and those shiny loafers to this neck of the woods?”

“You didn’t answer your cell phone, and I need a head count.”

“For?”

“A road trip to the Hamptons. Tomorrow through Sunday.” Ben shrugged and tossed his now-empty cup into the nearby trash can. “Honey and Roxy came up with the idea, and since I don’t have a death wish, here I stand.”

Russell frowned. “
Death
wish?”

“Take Abby out of town without telling you? I’d like to keep my anatomy intact.”

“Abby.” Russell stood up straighter. Of course she was going. Those three girls didn’t do anything apart anymore. Except for surprise trips to Queens, apparently. And while he wanted to laugh off Ben’s assumption that he’d blow his top if she went out of town without his knowledge . . . it had been accurate. For the million and first time that day, he wondered where the hell this protectiveness with Abby ended.
Did
it end? Would it grow? The back of his neck had already started to sweat, just envisioning her in a car driving farther and farther away. “Where did they come up with this idea?”

The way Ben eyed him made Russell nervous about what was coming. “Between you and me, Honey mentioned that Abby’s been stressed. They thought the trip might help—”

“
Stressed about what?
” Based on Ben’s raised eyebrow, Russell knew he’d shouted the question. Christ, please don’t let it be because of him. It couldn’t be. Could it? She’d seemed tired yesterday, but no more than she had been for the last month. But that was due to work. Right? She’d been working too hard. Why hadn’t
he
thought of getting her out of town?

Ben gave his shoulder a shove. “I assume from the smoke coming out of your ears that you’ve decided to join?”

He was supposed to be avoiding her, dammit. The timing couldn’t have been worse. When he noticed Ben watching him curiously, he stalled. “Uh. Where is everyone staying?”
Where will Abby be staying? Will she be safe?

“That’s kind of the crazy part.” Ben adjusted his glasses. “Honey was all set to book some affordable motel until Abby casually mentioned her family owns an estate in Southampton. A big one. We’re staying there.”

Russell’s stomach sank to the ground. An estate in Southampton. He could work seven days a week for the rest of his life and never give her that. Was there even a point in trying? Yeah. Fuck yeah there was . . . it was Abby. But he needed more time. He’d had a damn plan up until a minute ago. Now he was facing two days of being in the same house with Abby, knowing she was sleeping down the hall and wanting to continue what they’d started. A nightmare and a dream come true, rolled together in a ball of total mindfuckery.

“Look, I checked, and there are enough bedrooms for you to keep Abby in the friend zone. If that’s what you want.” When Russell only stayed quiet, Ben laughed. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, man, but if Honey was going to be in a bikini on the beach, the only single girl in the bunch, I’d be shitting a brick.”

“
I’ll go
,” Russell grated. “I’m going.”

I
T WAS
S
ATURDAY
morning. Abby should have been packing her travel case for a lazy, sunshine-laced weekend with her friends. Instead, she was staring over the top of her Mac computer screen at the company’s lawyer, Mitchell, and one visibly irritated stepmother.
Her
stepmother, to be exact.

Abby had woken early, thinking to drop into the office to tie up some loose ends so she could relax over the weekend, but she’d stumbled upon a meeting between her stepmother and Mitchell, who were less than enthused about her impromptu vacation. Oh, they were trying to hide it, but her stepmother’s tell had always been rummaging through her purse. And the Balenciaga bag had been rummaged within an inch of its three-thousand-dollar life.

“You’ll be on call, though, won’t you?” her stepmother asked, pulling out her wallet and replacing it seconds later. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’re finally taking advantage of the estate. I’ve been begging you to accompany me for a visit for years. But, Abigail—”

“The situation here is minute to minute,” Mitchell interjected. “We appreciate the time and effort you’re putting in, as does your father.”

Abby didn’t look up from her keyboard. “How would I know that when he won’t see me?”

“Sweetheart, he doesn’t want you to see him this way. You know what a proud man your father is. Soon, I promise. Everything will be back to normal.”

Abby inhaled deeply, reminding herself to stay calm. They weren’t in Southampton just yet, but she’d resolved to breathe this weekend. Over the last week, the pressure had mounted to the point where, not only was this trip meant for fun, it might even be necessary for her health. A thought that terrified her, knowing what her father had gone through at the helm of the company. “Yes, I know. And I have everything under control. If it makes you feel better, I’ll have my phone and laptop with me while I’m there.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard, entering reminders into next week’s calendar before switching screens to respond to a client email. “It’s not unusual for father to be unreachable by phone over the weekend. Our clients know they can communicate with him via email, and I’ll be there to handle any concerns.”

“There is a conference call with Venezuela on Monday morning,” Mitchell said, consulting the datebook in his hand. “You’ll be back by then, won’t you? It’s your father’s account, and no one else is familiar with it.”

“Yes. I’ll be back Sunday night.” She spun in her chair and opened a file-cabinet drawer, slipping out the client’s information. “I’ll take the file with me, so I’m up to speed. Is there anything else?”

Her stepmother started to speak, but a familiar voice shouting in the hallway interrupted her. “Mayday, Mayday. We’re down one party girl. I repeat, party girl has gone rogue. Must recover.”

Roxy.

“Roger, that, chopper one.” Honey. “We’ve got our eyes peeled for an off-the-grid party girl. We’ve been advised her killer legs are registered weapons and will proceed with caution. Over and out.”

When Roxy and Honey sailed into her office wearing goggles and duck-shaped flotation devices around their waists, Abby burst into laughter, ignoring her stepmother’s mask of horror. Not exactly a traditional way to introduce your best friends to your stepmother, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Dang. There was a tight welling in her chest telling her this weekend might be more in order than originally thought.

Last night, she’d been lying in her bed, formulas and risk evaluations overflowing from every crevice of her brain, when Roxy and Honey had burst into her room like a pair of Tasmanian devils. As soon as she’d stopped screaming from the shock, Honey had pounced on her, holding her shoulders down as Roxy straddled her waist.

“Thought this intervention was over, didn’t you?” Honey crooned.

Every inch the actress, Roxy released a truly chilling, haunted-house cackle. “Oh, it has only just begun. We’re taking a road trip, baby.”

Abby tried to get up, but Honey held fast. “Have you guys been hanging out with Louis’s twin sisters, or something?”

“Say what you will, but the terror twins get shit done,” Roxy responded.