Undercover Bromance

He slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her firmly against him until she was molded against his chest. “Do you feel that?”

“Uh, is this where I’m supposed to say, is that a baseball bat in your pants, or . . . ?”

He ignored her sarcasm. “I’m talking about my heart, Liv.”

He felt her breath catch before she exhaled quickly. “It’s

racing,” she whispered.

He lowered his forehead to rest against the back of her head. “It’s been like this since the minute you kissed me in that bar, and I can’t get it to stop.”

“Do—do you want it to stop?”

“Only if yours doesn’t race too.”

“There’s a big difference between romancing someone and loving someone.”

He was the founder of the damn book club but the only one who’d never experienced the real thing

Mack whistled. “Damn, girl. Who hurt you?”

“The patriarchy,” she deadpanned.

You need a hug, yes?”
“Not really—mrph.” The Russian pulled him into an awkward, muscle-bound embrace. His face was smooshed against the Russian’s shoulder, and it actually felt kind of good, so he stayed there for a moment and closed his eyes. Hugs were underrated.

She gulped.
He winked. “I get that reaction a lot.”
She shook her head. “I knew it. Your mouth is going to ruin this.”
“You have no idea what my mouth can do.”
“Promises, promises.”

Have you started sleeping with Mack yet?”
“Never going to happen.” Her libido made a sad face at her words.

“I should’ve kicked you in that shriveled-blob fish dick of yours when I had the chance,” Liv sneered.