The Consequence of Loving Colton (Consequence 1)

“Uh . . .” I pointed.

With a jerk he had me in the bathroom under the stairs and closed the door. Words and sounds were coming out of his mouth but I couldn’t make anything out. Max pushed me against the door and pointed his finger in my face. “I’m going to kiss you, damn it, and you’re going to like it. And I’m going to take off my shirt and you’re going to manhandle me, and you’re going to stop being so damn nervous or so help me God I’m going to bend you over that sofa in the living room and spank your sexy ass.”

Shocked, I was paralyzed in place. “Where did that come from?”

“Inside.” Max looked at me and smirked. “I have lots of feelings and I’m sick and tired of you looking at me like I don’t have a penis. I may be used to your innocence, but for my own pride, at least try to be attracted to me. Now close your damn eyes.”

“Stop cursing at me.”

“Stop being difficult! I’m trying to help you. And stop squirming. Shit, take a Xanax or something.”

“Max.” I closed my eyes and huffed. “This isn’t going to—”

My hand was on something hard.

I blinked my eyes open.

Since when did he have a six-pack?

I tilted my head, you know, to get a better look. His skin was really smooth but bumpy, each muscle defined so much that there was enough of a ridge for my hands to play with.

“Oh, look, he’s a man after all,” Max said, sounding bored. “I’m not your sexless friend. I’m not your damn brother. I’m not your gay friend. And I sure as hell am not thinking about anything right now except that your hands feel really good against my skin. So I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to respond like the idea of my mouth on yours doesn’t make you want to cry—and you’ll like it.”

“I’ll like it,” I repeated.

“There’s my girl.” His eyes flashed, and then he was kissing me again, only this time his body was on fire as it pressed against me. I felt every ridge of his abs; the length of his body was beyond devastating.

Slowly I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him closer.

CHAPTER SEVEN

COLTON

“I don’t like him,” I said for the tenth time while Jason and I set up the tables.

“Dude!” Jason rolled his eyes. “Why does it matter? She’s like a sister to you. We’ll protect her if he goes all ape-shit.”

“Right.” Because that’s exactly what I was worried about. Her virtue. That was why I’d spent the better part of the night reliving that kiss and woken up so sexually frustrated that I threw my pillows across the room.

Because I was being protective.

Hilarious as hell.

Little sister. Little sister. It was a no-poaching zone. And once you went in for the hunt, you either didn’t make it out alive or you wished you had gotten mauled.

We would never work.

Ever.

Never. Ever.

“Uh, you okay?” Jason asked¸ his eyebrows arching with what I could only assume was curiosity as to why I looked ready to rip a tree in half and throw it at all men named Max.

“Yeah, why?”

He pointed. “You look like you want to punch the shit out of that table and your hands are balled into such tight fists that I’m a bit concerned you’re going to pass out from blood loss.”

“On edge,” I snapped.

“Shocker,” Jason mouthed, just as Max and Milo came around the corner. Holy shit, I was going to lose my mind.

Her hair was tousled.

Lips bruised.

Well, that was it. Jason was going to have to arrest me. I was going to prison. At night I was going to sneak into Max’s room, beat him senseless, smother him with a pillow, and then dump his body into the pool.

Just kidding . . . the pool wasn’t deep enough.

A pond.

A large pond.

A lake.

The ocean.

“Colt?” Jason waved in front of my face. “I asked you a question.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “What was it?”

“Max says he’s terrible with arrangements so he’s going to finish up with the tables and you’re going to go help Milo, okay?”

“Sure. Whatever.” I dropped the table, hard. Unfortunately it landed on Jason’s foot.

“Shit!” He hopped around on one foot cursing a blue streak.

“Sorry?” I winced.

“Ice.” Jason glared. “Get me ice.”

I ran toward the house, Milo close on my heels. “What happened to Jason?”

“I dropped a table on him,” I said calmly, searching for ice. The guy already had a black eye and now he was going to have a broken toe. Yeah, I was the worst best man ever.

“Why would you do that?” Milo grabbed a towel and held it out as I put ice in it.

“Oh, you know, for shits and giggles.”

“Ah, I see—you’re in love with the bride,” she teased.

I rolled my eyes. “Jayne? No thanks.”

Milo’s face fell. Shit. Now she knew for sure her brother was marrying Satan.

“I didn’t mean it like that . . .”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “You did, but maybe she’s different now, more mature, not as—”

“She’s a whiny bitch,” I said honestly. “But he loves her and that’s all that matters, plus she’s always been a bit spoiled.”