Make Me (Broke and Beautiful #3)(66)

“Christ, me either, angel—” She rolled her hips and Russell saw sparks behind his eyes, but somehow found the wherewithal to reach over and slam the office door. “You need me now? God knows I need you so damn bad.”

“Yes.” She tugged down the straps of her dress to reveal her lack of bra. The sight sent Russell’s erection surging between her legs, making her gasp. “I can’t wait.”

They both reached for his zipper at the same time with shaking hands, lowering it carefully to take out the arousal she’d inspired. Russell groaned against her mouth as he hurried to remove a condom from his wallet, quickly rolling it on. Abby’s panties were shoved aside seconds later, and, fuuuuck, he was inside her. Neither one of them moved, simply breathing into one another’s mouths. “Tell me you . . . love me again while . . . I’m inside you.”

“I love you, Russell,” she husked, looking him in the eye. “I’ll never stop. I couldn’t.”

“Marry me, Abby.” His voice was urgent, breaking as she started to move, her body undulating on his lap. The perfect feel of her made it difficult to focus, but he battled to stay present. “Tell me you’ll marry me.”

The way she looked at him spoke of love, more than words ever could. “Make me.”

So he did.





Epilogue



“SEE, THERE ARE obstacle courses, like the one the Army uses for training.” Alec paused to make eye contact with Ben, Louis, and Russell. “And then you have the real deal. Not many men have attempted the American Ninja Warrior obstacle course and survived to be the best man at his brother’s wedding.” He spread his hands wide, pulling the lapels of his tuxedo wide. “Take a good look. I’m a rare breed, gents.”

“I don’t think anyone can argue that,” Russell said, his tone dry but good-natured. There wasn’t a damn thing that could bring him down. He was marrying Abby today. Making her his wife. Hell, he wasn’t sure a single thing—even his brother—would exasperate him for the rest of his life. What was there to complain about when he had Abby at home?

Home. Russell hadn’t known what the term meant until they’d moved in together. The first week of waking up in the same bed, eating breakfast in their own kitchen . . . he’d thought eventually they would stop smiling like crazy people when their eyes met across the dining-room table. Or while folding laundry on the living-room floor. But it hadn’t happened yet. It never would, either. They would make sure of it.

The four men stood waiting in tuxedos at the base of the Ninth Avenue stoop where he’d seen Abby for the first time and fallen hard and permanently for her. They had spent the last four months since Abby had given him another chance looking at churches throughout Queens and Manhattan, but none of them had felt right. One morning, they’d driven across the bridge for breakfast, and it had hit them both at the same time as they climbed the steps. The stoop was the spot. Twenty minutes later, Louis had come downstairs to break up their kissing jag and haul them up to the apartment for pancakes.

Ben, looking perfectly at home in his tuxedo, nodded in his direction. “How are things at the office? We haven’t been out since the grand opening.”

“Great. Better than great,” Russell responded, not bothering to hide his cheeseball grin. As if having Abby at home wasn’t unbelievable enough, she’d fallen into the role of office manager for Hart Brothers Construction. In a matter of months, she’d turned them into a major contender for city contracts and developments they never would have tried for without her staunch confidence in the company. In him. “I don’t know what we would do without Abby. She keeps the place running.”

“Yeah,” Alec chimed in, elbowing Russell in the side. “She works us a little harder than I’m used to, but it keeps this * happy. As soon as the lunch bell rings, he’s peeling out of the site to get an hour in with her.”

“Damn right,” Russell said. It was true. In the beginning, he worried that Abby’s being exposed to his overwhelming need for her day and night might be too much. For her, not him. He’d never get enough of Abby. Thankfully, every time he walked into the office on his lunch break, she was on him like white on rice, begging for a trip to the stockroom. And there were no words for how that made him feel.

True to his word, he’d done some exploring of the urges Abby tempted to his surface, and they’d learned together how to indulge both of their needs safely. He’d been relieved to find out that his nature didn’t make him a threat to Abby, but rather, the dominant counterpart to her softer spirit. She loved the way he controlled what happened in the bedroom . . . required it, some days, it seemed. Giving her what she needed was a privilege he would never take for granted. Not for a single moment.

As it turned out, their bedroom was the only place where Abby liked to be controlled. Over the last four months, he’d watched her transform into a woman who didn’t take no for an answer. She was . . . dynamic at work. More than once, he’d been late to a job because he couldn’t tear himself away from listening to Abby negotiate over the phone. Or haggle with a supplier. God, she was amazing. He couldn’t believe she was about to become his wife, but no way would he question her decision to be with him ever again. They needed each other.

Louis narrowed his eyes at the apartment-building door, as if willing them to open. “They say weddings put women in the frame of mind for marriage.” He lifted his chin in Russell’s direction. “You think you can convince Abby to toss the bouquet to Roxy?”