Undercover Bromance Page 36

“It feels like sex,” she moaned.

“Then you need to do it more.”

She had just started to whimper incoherently when he shoved the fabric aside to bare her flesh. He did the licking thing again, and when he slid two fingers inside her, she was done. Just like that. Fireworks exploded. She bit her own arm to keep from belting out the national anthem.

He wasn’t done, though. In her haze, she became aware of him nibbling his way up her body, fumbling with his pants, the sound of a condom wrapper—

She paused. “Where did you get that?”

“My back pocket.”

“Good thinking.”

“I like to be prepared for anything.”

So did Liv, but she wasn’t prepared for him to hoist her in his arms, press her against the apartment door, and enter her with a powerful thrust. Maybe he hadn’t exactly been prepared for it either because he didn’t move for a moment. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, and he made a noise that was half pleasure, half pain, and lord did she understand that. The door handle dug into the curve of her butt cheek, but the feel of him inside her was so intense that she didn’t care.

And then he started to move. Hard thrusts that pounded her harder against the door, which made her intimate muscles start to pulse again like the rockets’ red glare. Mack covered her mouth with his to smother the sound of her bombs bursting in air.

Mack grunted, his hands digging into her backside where he held her. She clung to him, arms around his neck, legs around his waist.

“Liv,” he suddenly groaned. “Ah God.”

He came with a final hard thrust and another grunt.

She had barely returned to Earth when she felt him yank up his pants with one hand and then start carrying her toward the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed.”

“No. Nu-uh. You’re not staying.”

“Yes, I am. I don’t do this kind of thing. I don’t do the sex-and-run thing, Liv.”

She expected him to drop her on the bed, but he didn’t. He bent and gently lowered her, shedding the tough-talking alpha thing as quickly as he’d shed her pants from her body. He gazed down at her in a way that reminded her why she’d avoided him for two days, because a girl could get attached to a look like that, and wouldn’t that be the dumbest thing in the world?

“I just want to wake up next to you,” he said quietly. “Is that all right with you?”

She didn’t actually agree before he lifted the shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. His jeans quickly followed. She barely had time to scoot out of the way before he pulled back the covers and slid under them. Liv clutched the comforter to her chest.

He rolled his head and let out a laugh. “You scared of me?”

Scared? Yes. He terrified her.

“Night, Liv,” he yawned. And then the bastard closed his eyes. His breathing slowed to an even rhythm within minutes. How the hell could he sleep? Her entire body was on fire. One prompt, and she would climb on top of him. But he seemed completely unaffected by their proximity.

Men. They could turn their emotions on and off like faucets. It wasn’t fair.

“Jerk,” she whispered.

“What did I do this time?”

Liv gasped. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I know. I was letting you admire me.”

“I hate you.” She flopped on her side to face away from him. Behind her, the bed dipped and shifted, and a heavy arm fell across her waist. He tugged her against his chest. The contours of his rock-solid body molded against her. If she scooted her hips back just an inch, she’d probably feel his you-know-what.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he said quietly. Sincerely.

She rolled over to face him. “I’m sorry for not calling.” She could at least give him that much.

Mack slid his hand up her side until it framed the outline of her jaw. She didn’t need encouragement. She leaned into his kiss. Into him. Until she found herself on her back once again. He slid his hand down her side, hooked his hand behind her knee, and drew it over his hip.

“I used to think I knew what I was doing with women, Liv,” he whispered. “But then I met a certain pastry chef, and my whole fucking world turned on its head.”

Sometime later, she fell asleep in his arms, wondering whether he knew what he’d done to her with those simple words.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

She awoke sometime later with the heavy weight of his body on her.

What the—?

“Be quiet.” His hand covered her mouth, and his lips brushed against her ear as he whispered. What the hell was he doing? Was this some kind of kinky sex game? She squirmed beneath him, but he held tight.

“Is this payback for hitting you?” she hissed.

“Just listen to me,” he ordered. “There’s someone downstairs.”

She rolled her eyes. Yeah, right.

“I want you to lock yourself in the bathroom—”

What? No way. She shook her head beneath his hand.

“Jesus, Liv. Just listen to me for once!”

And that’s when she heard it. The unmistakable squawk of a pissed-off man-hating rooster.

Mack yanked on his jeans and raced down the stairs. Liv, of course, refused to stay inside.

“Help!” The cries of a desperate man were drowned out only by Randy’s vicious screech. Mack leaped off the bottom step and ran into the driveway, where a shapeless form lay on his back, arms raised to ward off the talons.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Help,” the man cried again, hands now over his face.

The man suddenly swung his arm wide and knocked Randy away just far enough to roll and dodge another attack. With his butt to them, he rose on all fours. “It’s me,” the man bellowed.

“I don’t know who you are.”

He stood and turned around, and by now Liv had joined Mack’s side. She let out a surprised scream.

“Geoff.”

“Christ,” the man barked, covering his ears.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mack boomed.

“Livvie!” Another man’s voice. Hop. This time from the house.

Liv turned. Mack turned. Geoff turned. And all three let out a collective scream because—

“OH MY GOD, WHY ARE YOU NAKED?” Liv covered her eyes.

Mack understood her reaction. Jesus God, Hop was naked. Running. Naked.

And then Geoff let out another startled grunt because Hop was flying in slow motion through the air in a tackle that would’ve made the NFL proud. Dust rose in a cloud around them as they hit the ground, Hop on top. Bare-ass naked.

“Oh God,” Liv groaned. “I’m never going to recover from this.”

Hop had an arm to the guy’s throat. “You have five seconds to tell me who you are and why you’re here.”

Geoff grunted and gasped for air. Hop lessened his hold.

“It’s one of Royce’s goons,” Liv said.

The back door to the house banged open again. Rosie ran out wrapped in a robe, her hair flying wildly around her shoulders. She carried a pair of men’s jeans and a flannel shirt in her hands. She handed them both to Hop and gave him eyes.

Liv’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.”

“We can talk about that later,” Rosie admonished. “What the hell is going on?”

Hop quickly filled her in with the slim details they had. Rosie clutched her robe.

Hop hauled Geoff to his feet. “What the hell do you want?”

“To help,” Geoff panted.

“Bullshit,” Mack barked.

“I swear.” Geoff wiped his face with dirty hands. “I don’t want any part of Royce’s bullshit anymore.”

Hop was unmoved. “How do we know we can trust him? This could be some kind of trap.”

“It’s not a trap,” Geoff said. “I swear. Just listen to me. Please.”

“Talk.”

Geoff pressed the ice pack Rosie had given him to his cheek and kept a wary gaze trained on Hop, who—thank fucking God—had put on his jeans.

“I want to help.”

“So you said,” Mack said, arms crossed. “Help with what?”

“I know you guys are trying to expose what Royce is really like.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Hop said.

He’d gone into full cop mode, and Mack had to admire the act. Geoff actually blinked for a moment as if he’d been wrong maybe. But then Geoff got wise. “Jesus, I’m not recording this or anything.”

“We’re supposed to just trust you?”

“Want me to fucking strip?”

Hop smacked him upside the head. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Please don’t strip,” Liv said. “I’ve been subjected to enough unsolicited balls lately to last a lifetime.”

Mack hoped his weren’t among them.

“I swear to God, I’m here to help you,” Geoff said. “I didn’t sign up for this crap. I thought I was going to be a bodyguard! But he’s lost it, I swear.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s paranoid!”

“Slow down. What does he have you doing instead of being a bodyguard and intimidating my future employers?”

“You know about that?”

Liv nodded. “We know about that.”

He shrugged. “At first it was just, you know, watching your Facebook accounts and shit to see if you talked about him.”

“And then?”

“Then, when Jessica told him you guys came to her campus, he lost his shit. He . . .” A deep swallow revealed either shame or trepidation at whatever he planned to say next.

“He what?” Mack growled.

“He made us start following her everywhere. And you.”

The last two words rang the loudest.

Mack cursed, and Hop pointed. “See. This is what I was talking about. You guys went and messed around in shit you had no business—”