Make Me (Broke and Beautiful #3)(44)

“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 * first. It’s had me on edge all f*cking 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 *. “How am I going to hold off on f*cking 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-f*ck 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 f*cking 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.”