Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) by Lyssa Kay Adams

            Another squeal went up from the dining room. Cheese Man was now waxing poetic about the aphrodisiac qualities of Parmesan.

            “I hate him so much,” Vlad seethed.

            “Kick him out. It’s your party.”

            Cheese Man trailed his fingers up Elena’s arm before feeding her a slice of Parm.

            Then the room became painted in a red filter as Cheese Men lowered his head.

            And kissed his fucking wife.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN





And just like that, the party was over.

            One minute, Elena was wincing in anticipation of a kiss on the cheek. The next, Vlad was standing on both his legs and bellowing for everyone to get the fuck out.

            The guys all gathered their wives with we’ll talk about it later urgency and hurried them outside, followed quickly by the Loners, who were already whispering like gossiping hens.

            Face flaming, Elena walked Cheese Man to the door. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into him. He’s not usually like this.”

            Cheese Man lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I have a pretty good idea.”

            “No, you don’t. We’re getting a divorce.”

            Cheese Man studied her with a small smirk. “Are you sure about that?”

            Elena shut the door, clenched her fists, and stormed back to the living room. She found Vlad huffing and puffing, his hand wrapped around a half-empty glass of something that was probably bad for his stomach.

            “I. Cannot. Believe you.” Elena grabbed the remote from where it had landed on the floor when Vlad leaped to his feet. She zapped off the game. “What the hell were you thinking, jumping up like that? You could have hurt yourself again. And do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”

            “I have some idea, yes.” He took a long drink and hissed at the burn. He downed the rest of the liquor and dropped the empty glass to the floor.

            “You need to stop drinking. That can’t be good for your stomach.”

            Vlad pointed. “Stop taking care of me. And you want to know what is humiliating? Watching another man kiss my wife right in front of me.”

            Indignation burned like a bite into a scalding pelmeni hot from the oil. “You have no right to be jealous, Vlad.”

            His voice dropped an octave. “He kissed you.”

            “He kissed my cheek.”

            “Only because you turned your face at the last minute. If you hadn’t, he would have shoved his tongue down your throat.”

            “Which is a lot more than you ever did to me!”

            “Maybe because you’ve never wanted me to!”

            Elena advanced on him in angry steps, drew back her fist, and socked him in the chest. He hopped back on one foot, blinking in surprise. Since he was obviously clueless, she did it again. Her fist landed in the valley between his pecs with a dull thud.

            “Elena—”

            “Of course I want you to kiss me. I’ve always wanted you to kiss me. I wanted you to kiss me when you proposed. I wanted you to kiss me on our wedding day. I wanted you to kiss me last night.” Whack. Another punch. “And I want you to kiss me right now.”

            Elena grabbed the front of his shirt, yanked him down, and smashed her mouth to his.

            For the first time since they said I do at the altar, she kissed him, but this time, there was nothing chaste about it. There was no pretense this time, no confusion. No one to convince but each other. She softened her lips against his, pressing gently in an unspoken plea to let her in. With a whimper, she nudged his mouth. Once. Twice. Until finally she felt him give in. Vlad parted his lips a fraction of an inch, and she slanted her mouth to go deeper.

            At the touch of her tongue against his, Vlad came to life. With a groan, he palmed the back of her head with one hand and pressed the other against her back, pulling her tightly against him. Together, they stumbled until she collided with the wall, never breaking contact, never letting their mouths lift. Her arms wound around his neck as she rose on tiptoe. He devoured her. Consumed her.