The Consequence of Revenge

by Rachel Van Dyken

  And I couldn’t have walked away even if she’d wanted me to.

  I slowly inched into her, I mean we were in the water and to be fair I’d never actually done anything remotely sexual in the water, it just seemed unclean and I was a clean guy and I didn’t like . . . “Shit!”

  I blacked out.

  Okay, fine, I didn’t black out. But it sure as hell felt like it, because before I knew what was happening, before I could get the car ready, she’d hit the accelerator and I was powerless. She’d stripped me of everything as I moved inside her, as our eyes locked.

  “This changes things . . .” I whispered as she tilted her head back in ecstasy. “Let me take care of you.”

  Becca nodded, then let out a slight moan as her nails dug into my back.

  “After the show”—her head fell back as I kissed her neck—“this doesn’t stop when the show stops.”

  “No,” she agreed, her voice hoarse.

  Our bodies rocked into one another, fitting perfectly.

  Everything felt right.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” I demanded, my voice urgent as I felt her tighten around me.

  “Yes.” Her forehead touched mine. “Yes. I promise.”

  I wouldn’t fail her—I wouldn’t be the same Max. I’d be better, starting now. I moved my hand between our bodies and watched her.

  Every breath.

  Every moan.

  Every movement.

  I had it memorized.

  And when she found her release, I took that moment as a treasure, one I’d keep forever. If she’d have me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  BECCA

  I didn’t have time to regret sleeping with Max—and it was all the goat’s fault. I opened my eyes and rubbed them, then tried to lean up and yawn. The minute my hands reached above my head the goat made a noise and then huffed at me. Okay, so I finally understood why Max had been so terrified. The damn thing could sense my terror or something!

  “Max,” I hissed, smacking him in the shoulder. It really was a shame waking him up. His dark tan looked so . . . pretty against the white sheets. I wanted to stare. Again, let’s revisit, he was beautiful. A beautiful man I’d had the pleasure of exploring all night long.

  Not once.

  Not twice.

  Three times.

  So not only was I officially a whore, but I’d gone and done the ONE THING I’d sworn to myself I’d never do. I’d had a one-night stand with a guy who in the heat of the moment made promises to me, but outside of that moment, nothing. We weren’t even really dating. For crying out loud, we were on a dating show! And he was going to be kissing other girls today. Four of them!

  Crap, I really should have thought things through.

  But then Max had gotten naked, and his kisses had made me forget everything but the moment, and I’d wanted to hang on to it forever.

  “Stop biting your nails,” Max grumbled, his eyes still closed. “And stop staring at me. And stop hitting me with your pillow. I get it—it’s morning. No need to keep reminding me over and over again.”

  “Aw, you remind me of my roommate.”

  “No!” Max’s eyes burst open. “She’s a terrible excuse for a human being and most likely put Jason in a thumb cast last night.”

  “Thumb cast?” I repeated.

  “Hey, you’re naked.” Max reached for me.

  I slapped his hand away.

  “Ouch.” Max grinned. “But it’s cool, I’ll play.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Hades is upset.”

  “Uh, wouldn’t you be upset too? He lives with dead people.”

  “Max,” I warned.

  “Fine, why’s the goat upset? And how do you suddenly read minds? Holy shit, did you read my mind last night? Is that why you did that thing with your tongue, because I have to admit—it was hot.”

  “Max!” And I was officially bright red. “We can’t . . . I mean, we can’t do that again . . .”

  “Define that.” Max pulled me into his arms and kissed my mouth. “Or better yet, can you show me?” He easily moved on top of me so our bodies were literally inches from being joined again. “Or how about”—he leaned down and kissed me softly between my breasts—“I just keep guessing until you moan, or yell or say yes Max, no Max, more Max—”

  “Max, you better not be talking to that goat!” Reid shouted.

  Max froze on top of me.

  I froze beneath him.

  We shared one look and I dove under the covers.

  Max propped up the pillows around him and fluffed the bed just as the door to the hut swung open.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  MAX

  Son of a possessed goat. I was screwed. Oh, wait, no, that’s what I would have been doing had my satanic brother not knocked on my door and barged in.

  Becca moved slightly, her face planted against my stomach. Her breath hot on my skin. Shit, I was in a bad place, a very bad place. She would be the death of me and the last thing I needed was for Reid to think I was getting all hot and bothered because Hades had eaten another pair of my underwear.

  “ ’Sup, Bro?” I tried to act casual as I placed my hands behind my head and exhaled.

  Reid’s eyes narrowed. “You look funny.”

  “I just woke up.” I faked a yawn. “You’re no perfect male specimen in the mornings either, my friend.”

  “Right.” Reid looked around the room, his eyes wildly searching for something. “Have you seen Becca? I went to her hut to remind her about the morning confessional and also make sure she knew what time her date with you was, but she was gone.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe she died.”

  Becca pinched me in the ass.

  My body jerked.

  “Maybe. She. Died.” Reid repeated, his eyes narrowing more and more by the second.

  “I was kidding!” I laughed nervously. “She’s probably just . . . swimming. You know.” My throat was drier than the desert. “With the fish.”

  “Becca hates fish.”

  “She hates sharks,” I corrected. “Fish aren’t sharks. Do you even watch the Discovery Channel when I turn it on?”

  “Swimming, huh?”

  “Yeah, she loves swimming, one of her favorite things to do, next to, you know . . .” Me, HA! “Art.”

  “Art?” Reid looked confused. “What kind of art does she do?”

  I can neither confirm nor deny that Becca was actively squeezing something that should never be squeezed in that way. Ever. And I do mean. Ever. Ever. Ever. “Er . . . she does nude art.”

  And the squeeze just got worse. I kicked my feet, hoping to land one on her, but she kept squeezing.

  “Nude art?” Reid laughed. “Wow, that’s kind of hot.”

  “Everything about Becca’s hot.” I shrugged.

  The squeezing stopped. Hey, I’d done something right!

  “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, man, I really do. She’s . . . incredible.”

  Was it wrong to be a bit sad at the loss of her hand?

  “Hmm.” Reid scratched his head. “Hey, what’s Hades have in his mouth?”

  I followed the direction of his gaze and felt my face pale. Becca’s dress. Hades had somehow grabbed it in the middle of the night and was now apparently trying to find the best way to deface it, if the way he was sitting on it was any indication.

  “My dress!” I blurted. “I brought one just in case . . .”

  “Dude!” Reid held up his hands. “What? Is there something you need to tell me? I mean you’ve always been sort of, like, metro, but . . .”

  Damn it!

  While trying to think of a great comeback . . . I nearly seized. As what had once been a hand was replaced by something a lot more inviting.

  Damn that woman.

  Damn that tongue!

  I shuddered.

  “You okay?” Reid got closer to the bed. “You look a little sick.”

  “Stop!” I gasped. Holy shit, I
didn’t know my name. What was my name?

  Reid, most likely sensing my distress, chose that moment to sit, yes, SIT on my bed. The same bed that I planned to purchase and send home and put in the middle of my living room and stare at. I would refer to it as the miracle bed. Because what was taking place? Miracle.

  I clenched the sheets in my hand and swallowed as sweat trickled down my face, “No, man, hell.” I trembled. “I’m just . . .” Breathing ragged, I licked my lips. “Not feeling, right . . . shit, right there.”

  “What?” Reid’s concern quickly turned to suspicion.

  “Er . . .” I shook my head. “I’m going to puke!”

  Reid jolted off the bed. “Dude, you know how I feel about puke!”

  “Then”—oh look, heaven!—“go away!” I clenched my teeth together, snapping them as my entire body went rigid.

  “Fine!” Reid held up his hands. “Just don’t forget about your confessional.”

  The door slammed behind him at the exact same time I saw a billion stars give birth to tiny planets. It was also the same time that I saw the secrets to the universe and waved at a unicorn as it floated by me.

  I lifted up the sheet. Becca looked at me innocently, then shrugged.

  “Can I keep you?” I asked.

  “That depends . . .”

  “I’ll sell Reid.”

  “You don’t have to sell Reid.”

  “Really, I don’t mind. He can go live in Alaska for all I care, just tell me I can keep you. I want to freaking wrap you up, put you in my pocket, and never let go. Don’t make me beg.”

  “Yeah.” Becca laughed. “You can keep me, but we may have to do something about the goat.”

  Hades stomped and then promptly peed on Becca’s dress.

  “So naked art, huh?” She winked.

  “A fantasy of mine.”

  “Ah.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I need to.” She kissed me quickly on the mouth then hopped out of bed. “But I need sweats. I think the dress has seen its last day.”

  “Too bad you can’t walk around naked. I think it’s my favorite outfit on you, the color is just . . . outstanding.”

  “Max.” Becca grinned, her cheeks blushing.

  “Fine, I’ll loan you a T-shirt, just know one thing.”

  “Hmm?”

  I pulled her into my arms. “I’ll collect interest on that loan.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  BECCA

  Getting back to my room was like something out of a James Bond movie. Seriously. I ran to one palm tree and hid, then ran to the next one. I knew I had to avoid Reid at all costs because I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face, and the last thing I needed was more steamy footage. Reid was scouring the beach with binoculars! Seriously? Swear Edward the snake was following me, I mean when Max set him free I’d thought he’d run away. But nope, he was sitting outside Max’s hut just waiting for the inevitable invitation to join the farm.

  “Shoo!”

  “Becca?” Reid shouted from his position a few hundred feet away. He waved.

  Luckily Grumpy was already ready for the day and most likely eating breakfast so she wasn’t going to pester me about where I’d been all night. I quickly showered and threw on a pair of shorts and a black tank top just in time to open the door and see Reid standing there with his hand raised.

  “Oh!” He stepped back. “Weren’t you just on the beach? Could have sworn I saw Max’s old football shirt on you.”

  “Max played football?” I blurted. I mean, come on. He so did not look the type.

  Reid laughed. “Of course he played football. Max plays all sports. Hmm, I’d think that with all you’ve”—he tilted his head—“shared recently you’d know that about him.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Heat invaded my face as I blushed. “We haven’t had much time to talk.”

  “Talking is overrated.” He grinned.

  “Did you need something?”

  “Just making sure you’re safe.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Well.” I lifted my hands in the air. “I am. Totally. Completely safe.”

  Safe. Why did safe make me suddenly freak out? Safe, safe, safe, ho-oly crap! My eyes widened just as Reid’s did.

  “No! No, I didn’t mean it like that! I mean whatever you do in private time with men or my brother or anyone for that matter, you’re a responsible, consenting adult who—”

  “Move!” I ran past him and jogged back to Max’s hut. I knocked twice, three times—the bastard didn’t answer!

  And then I remembered his confessional.

  Stupid Becca, stupid, stupid Becca! We’d had sex. In the ocean, of all places. Of course we hadn’t been safe!

  I hadn’t been thinking.

  He clearly hadn’t been thinking.

  I found Max talking to Rex using wild gestures.

  Yeah, so he was acting normal.

  I waited patiently.

  Finally Max turned.

  I motioned him over while Rex shouted, “Becca, just in time for your confessional.”

  “One sec!” I yelled back as Max approached.

  He sighed. “I miss the nakedness.”

  “Max!” I gripped his arm. “Last night, in the ocean—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there before I have to excuse myself and take a cold shower.”

  “No!” I gripped his shoulders. “Max, listen!”

  “O-okay.” He sat down on the sand with me. “What’s wrong?”

  “We . . .” Oh, my gosh. I couldn’t say it. Why couldn’t I say it? “You know how with the shrimp . . .” Awesome, and I was officially turning into Max. It was only a matter of time before we had our own nickname, BecMax or something stupid like that.

  “Did the shrimp make you sick?”

  “No! Okay, you know how you cover the shrimp with, er, sauce? And I mean not everyone likes sauce so sometimes it sucks that you have to dip it, but whatever, the sauce keeps you safe, Max!”

  He leaned in. “Am I the shrimp or the sauce?”

  “You’re the shrimp and something else”—I held out my hands—“is the sauce, and while most guys don’t particularly enjoy eating with the sauce it’s necessarily to prevent . . . types of . . . disease.”

  “Okay.” Max nodded and then his gaze shot to mine. “Ohhhhh, okay. Gotcha. So you’re worried because the first time you ate the shrimp there was no sauce.”

  “Right.” I exhaled in relief. Because yeah, sure, I was on birth control, but still!

  “My sauce is boss.” Max grinned and then gripped my hand. “Becca, you have nothing to worry about. Granted we could have been smarter and were when we got back to the love hut . . .”

  “Please don’t call it that.”

  He winked and flashed me that gorgeous smile again. “But how do I put this carefully . . .” He nodded. “Right, so before the show I was examined by a complete monster, who did everything within his power to keep it so that when I wanted to eat shrimp I cried instead. Classically conditioned me to hate all doctors and men over the age of fifty, but the point is, my shrimp is awesome, even without the sauce my shrimp is still perfectly fine and yours . . . is . . . too . . . wow, this conversation would have gone a lot better had you straight-up asked me if I’d been tested for STDs.”

  I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder. “Right, but I was trying to do it the Max way.”

  “Always more complicated but tons of fun, mainly because there’s usually props,” he agreed. “We okay?”

  “Yes.” I swallowed. “A lot better.”

  “Good.” Max kissed my cheek. “Because I’m buying stock in shrimp and probably going to tie you to my hut so you can’t escape.”

  “Empty threats.” I waved him off.

  “See you on the last date. I may have convinced Rex that we should save the girl I liked for the very end.”

  “And he was okay with that?” I asked, surprised that Rex ev
en cared.

  “More than okay.” Max winked. “Let’s just say I promised him that if they filmed it, I’d finally kiss one of the girls like I meant it.”

  Warm fuzzies radiated through my stomach. “Oh.”

  “See you later.” He kissed my cheek again, then lingered. “Damn, I don’t want to go.” When he rose he put on his sunglasses and sighed. “Dream of shrimp, Becca, because I know I will.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  MAX

  Becca walked off toward Rex to do her confessional and I stared . . . I mean, it wasn’t one of those creeper stares that get a lesser man arrested; it was more of an appreciative . . . glance. Now that I’d seen that body of hers up close and personal, well, let’s just say I was going to try my damndest to convince that girl we should join a nudist colony, you know, to save money on clothes.

  “Hey,” Reid yelled from behind me. Sadly I stopped watching Becca and turned around.

  “Yes?”

  He tapped his fingers against his mouth, then leaned forward and sniffed.

  “What the hell!” I pushed him away.

  “You had sex.”

  “I did not!” I did, I did, I did. My body rejoiced, Little G popped up in my pocket, and I’m pretty sure had Hades been on the beach I would have given him a significant head nod.

  “Did too.” Reid scowled. “How’d you manage to escape the cameras? Was it with Becca? Wait, does she know?”

  “Um, she was there,” I said defensively.

  “I knew it! You did have sex with her!”

  “Keep your voice down!” I smacked him in the shoulder. “And of course she knows it happened.”

  “You never know.” Reid huffed. “Apparently you snuck drugs into a foreign country so yeah, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “When have I ever needed to use pharmaceuticals in the bedroom?” I squinted. “Furthermore, if we’re laying our cards all out on the table, between the two of us, who do you think’s going to need help getting it up during future . . . activities?”

  “Please.” Reid rolled his eyes.

  “Grandma.”

  “Shut up. I hate you!” Reid pushed against me and whispered under his breath toward his . . . manhood, “He didn’t mean it.”