No Strings Attached [Climax, Montana 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  “An apology isn’t good enough,” said Jet coldly, “but we’ll discuss that at home. You’re riding in the truck with Houston. Until a doctor tells me otherwise, you are not going to bounce on that horse.”

  “I don’t bounce!” she blurted at the insult. His glare had her lowering her voice. “And there’s nothing the matter with me riding a horse.”

  “There is when you promised to stay home.” He snarled the words.

  “But—”

  “You will be punished for this.”

  “Punished! But I said I was sorry.” She looked to her grandmother. “Gram!”

  “You disobeyed an order,” replied Gram quietly. “One that was put in place for your safety.” She shook her head. “You’re on your own for this one.”

  She would not fall apart. She would be defiant until the end!

  “You can’t ride Blue,” she told Jet. “She’s got my tack. You’ll get saddle sores so bad you won’t be able to sit for days.”

  “My back end will not be as sore as yours,” Jet replied drily.

  She gulped. She turned her face just enough to see him. She shivered at the intensity of his glare. Her pussy, the traitor, quivered in delight. She tamped it down, hard.

  “Are you threatening me?” she demanded. He quirked that damn eyebrow at her. The rotten so-and-so must be enjoying this!

  “I don’t make threats. I tell it the way it is. You disobeyed a direct order, one you promised to uphold. You need something intense so you will remember, and not disobey again.”

  He lifted the chair by the arms, with her in it, away from the table. He turned and set it down, facing the truck. Houston leaned his hip against the hood, arms crossed. Her chin trembled when she looked at him. He slowly shook his head in disgust.

  “In the truck,” he said. “Not a word.”

  She did as ordered with as much dignity as possible. Even Rascal seemed mad at her, for he stayed in the back seat, ignoring her. Houston climbed in but didn’t start the truck. Jet rested a hand on the open passenger window.

  “Do you have any idea how worried we were?” he said quietly.

  One look and she realized his anger was because he’d been so worried. He was disappointed with her. She hated herself for causing it. Knowing she was in the wrong, she couldn’t look at him, so she closed her eyes. The damn baby hormones made tears well up. She fought them, and lost. She didn’t give in, ignoring them as they ran down her face.

  “I’ll see you two at home,” said Jet.

  He banged the side of the truck, making her jump. Houston started it up and drove away. She wanted to say she was sorry, but even if she felt he would listen, her throat was too tight to speak.

  All she’d done was ride her horse across her neighbor’s ranch to visit her grandparents. She’d done it hundreds of times before. Yes, she promised she’d stay home. But the men were being ridiculous. She knew enough from her mom that her baby was perfectly safe. Plus, Lance said she’d have a healthy baby.

  She paused. Lance said she would have a healthy baby. He didn’t say it would be this one. Dread wormed its way under her defenses. No! She refused to be worried, so she got angry instead.

  How dare these two men tell her how to run her life? One teeny little sperm wiggling into an egg did not change her into a helpless weakling. Okay, she made a promise and had not kept it. But there was nothing to be worried about. Mother Nature would take her course, no matter what. If it was not to be, she would accept it. Later on, she could have a healthy child.

  She stewed all the way home, worried over what might happen to that spark of life inside her, and full of fury at the high-handed way the men ordered her around. The windows at the senior’s home had been open on the lovely spring day. She had no idea how many people had listened. She stifled a groan. Did she really need someone to make sure she didn’t do stupid things? And why did she do them in the first place? What was the matter with her?

  Would having Jet and Houston guiding her stop her craziness? She’d not worried about thinking before acting before. Maybe, if she had to think about their reaction first, it would slow her down.

  Did she want to be accepted so badly that she would submit to their domination?

  No, this wasn’t about her being accepted. She was going to be a mother. Did she want her child to grow up wincing at her actions, embarrassed about her lone parent?

  She only had a few weeks, perhaps a few months, to learn how to rein herself in. If it took obeying Jet and Houston to break this habit, it would be worth it. She shuddered at the thought of obeying two dominant men. A shiver of sexual need immediately followed. She stared out the side window, though she didn’t look past the glass.

  Why did she have two, totally opposite, reactions?

  In BDSM romances, the Dom often gave orders to the heroine to help her curb self-destructive behaviors. He didn’t do it out of pettiness, or a bully’s need to control. He did it because he cared, and eventually loved, her. After all, they were romance books, and fiction.

  She’d grown up with these relationships, but had purposefully turned away. Looking back, she realized she filtered everything she saw through her own prejudices. She did not like being told what to do, so therefore all her aunts, and her mother, should hate the same thing. Even at the party the other night, she’d turned away in disgust when Aunt Aggie eagerly obeyed Uncle Keith’s growled orders.

  If she stripped away that filter and thought back, she could see her aunt’s shining eyes and her uncle’s loving embrace when Aggie did what he wanted. Yes, he could’ve got his own food. But he trusted Aggie to get him what he wanted, knowing she enjoyed pleasing him.

  Wasn’t she the same, enjoying doing a good job on the ranch and getting a hug from her fathers in return?

  If Houston had agreed to stay out of the pasture holding the demon bull, and he’d gone in anyway, saying she was making a fuss over nothing, she would be furious. Not because of the bull, but because the man could have been killed. Neither of her hired hands were petty, or stupid. There was a reason they’d ordered her to stay on the ranch. A reason they had not seen fit to tell her about. As ranch boss, and as the woman they were sleeping with, they should not have kept their reasons to themselves. And that was something she had every right to get angry about.

  She rubbed her arm over her itchy nipples, trying to hide the motion by scratching her cheek. It only made things worse, as the bumps hardened into tight buds. She shifted on the seat. It didn’t stop the throb of need in her pussy. Why did she eagerly anticipate and dread her punishment, and at the same time feel resentful about it?

  She’d spent her life fighting to be independent and self-reliant. Yet a big part of her wanted to kneel before them, drop her head and obey, giving up control to feel safe and protected.

  Should she listen to her confused brain, or her eager body?

  Chapter 36

  “Lila’s ass is going to be so sore she won’t sit down until her baby’s born!”

  Jet switched position again, but there wasn’t much leeway on the saddle. His legs were too long, even with the stirrups on the last notch.

  He’d considered giving Blue her head and going cross-country, but decided to take the longer way, by the road, instead. Blue’s gait was bad enough on a flat road. He didn’t want to chance it cross-country. The longer trip also gave him time to think about the Switzers.

  All this time, he’d had parents. Brothers and sisters. Four of them!

  He’d dreamed for years about having a family that cared. He rarely slept well as he tried to fit into each new foster home. From the time he was fourteen he was always too big for the beds. Six foot tall with muscles, trying to sleep in a kid-size bed. At some of the places he slept on the floor, especially if they insisted on a perfectly neat room and bed.

  And all along, he’d had a real family. He didn’t know if they could have got him back if they’d found him. It didn’t matter, they hadn’t looked until he was eighteen. He
couldn’t blame them for giving him up. His mother was fifteen when his father got her pregnant. She must’ve been scared out of her mind. He was terrified of raising Lila’s baby, and he was twice the age his mother had been. It gave him a whole new appreciation of what Madison was going through.

  He’d look the Switzers up after things got settled with Lila. He’d like to see someone who looked like him. The baby Lila carried would most likely be blonde, just like Lila and Houston. But the next one might be dark, like him. Even if he only had photographs, his children needed to see what their other father’s family looked like. He’d had no family. Lila’s children would have five grandparents, not counting Houston’s family, plus everyone in the valley.

  Life was going to get extremely complicated, very quickly. First on his list was Lila. He shifted again on the saddle. It was a mistake not to tell her about the danger from Tank. Yes, she’d broken a promise, but she hadn’t realized why it was important. He’d been so scared when Simon had called out that Lila was at the senior’s home, having ridden Blue over. Houston would be calling the MacDougals to reassure them as soon as he got Lila home.

  The sound of an engine coming up behind had him slowing. He didn’t know the mare well enough to judge how she was near traffic, especially with him on her back. He nudged her to the left side of the road and turned in the saddle to wave the vehicle past. The sheriff rolled down his window, so Jet stopped. He pressed down on his heels, lifting his butt from the saddle to give his ass bones some relief.

  “We have to talk,” said Gibson, craning his neck out the window. “Climb down and walk. We’ll both feel better.”

  It was a relief to get off the horse. “What now, Sheriff?”

  Gibson drove at the speed of Jet’s walk. The first few steps were painful, but it was still better than riding.

  “My eager deputy was a bit too efficient,” said Gibson. “He ran both your names before I could stop him.”

  Jet winced. “So you know that assault charge is true, though I did it to protect a girl.”

  “There’s no charges listed. All you have are sealed juvenile records, and I only know about them from Tom. He said that anything you did was nothing compared to what was done to you.”

  “Glad that monkey’s off my back,” said Jet. The judge had promised to wipe the slate clean after three years, but Jet never believed a promise unless he had proof. That was another thing that was changing. “So we’re both clear.”

  “No, there’s an outstanding warrant for the arrest of one Roger Sheldon Simpson. Seems he stole his mother’s car a few years back.”

  Jet stopped. Blue kept on going, and so did the Sheriff. The horse pulled on his lead. Jet hurried to catch up.

  “Houston is no thief, Sheriff. I bet that came from his mother. She will say, and do, whatever she wants to get her own way. If she finds out about this baby, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  “That explains a few things,” said Gibson. “The charge was created years back, but never put in the system until a couple days before you boys showed up. Did something happen to trigger it?”

  “Yeah, something happened all right,” said Jet with a growl. “Houston’s mother tracked him down in the army hospital in San Antonio. She threatened him and we lit out. Running Houston’s name gave her detective a red flag to follow. Thanks for the heads up. We’ll keep a closer eye on Lila.”

  “I have to bring him in until this can be cleared up. Can you protect her by yourself?”

  Jet turned on the sheriff. “Protect her! Do you know why I’m leading this horse?”

  “Yep. Your ass hurts too much to ride it.” He laughed at Jet’s glare. “I heard about that scene in front of her grandparents, so yes, I do. Word in town is Lila won’t be sitting down for a while. I’d say more than a few figure it’s about time.”

  “It’s the only way I know to get her attention,” said Jet. “She’s been let off the hook too often. That’s not going to happen anymore.”

  “Because I’m an ethical man, I won’t tell you the number of spanks I bet she would get from you two.”

  “The people in town are betting on how many spanks Lila gets? What’s next? How many times Mr. Tanner’s old dog will lift his leg in an hour?”

  “No, the latest is whether Lance MacDougal will go after you with his claymore or his bullwhip for getting Lila pregnant.”

  Cold shivers trickled down Jet’s spine like a late winter rain. He had bad memories, and a few scars, from a bullwhip when he was sixteen. Another time he’d protected the innocent, and paid for it. At well over six feet, he could handle the whip. The skinny fourteen-year-old who’d actually broken the tractor, completely by accident, couldn’t, so Jet admitted to the deed. He still had the scars.

  “People around here will bet on pretty much anything,” continued Gibson, “especially at the end of June when the weather’s great and the crops and animals are doing well. I only told you so you’d keep track. Of every stroke,” he added. “If you start over because she tries to cover her ass, write down the number to add to the total.”

  “How many did—whoa!” said Jet. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know what people bet. She’ll get what she gets.”

  “I’m one of the ones who’ve been waiting years for this.” Gibson grinned like a schoolboy. “I got my fair share of lickings as a kid. I’m glad my little cousin is catching up. I’ll meet you up at the house. I’m not taking Houston in until you’re there to protect Lila.”

  “Any word on Tank?”

  “He’s keeping low, which is unusual. I don’t want to underestimate him.”

  “There’s no chance he would just slink away, is there?”

  “It could go either way. Now that the word’s out about Lila being pregnant, and you boys stepping up to the plate, the court of public opinion will be against him. He could decide to quietly leave, or go out in what he’d think was a blaze of glory.”

  “I guess the good people of Climax are also betting on the chances of Tank against us?”

  “Yep. And I won’t tell you what those odd are, either. But my money’s on you. See you up at the house.”

  The sheriff turned up the lane to the Circle C. Jet followed in his slow trod, still stretching out sore muscles.

  “That woman will be the death of me yet,” he said to Blue, who ignored him. “And I would die happy,” he admitted, knowing there was no one but a horse to hear.

  * * * *

  Lila heard deep male murmurs as she drifted through dreams of hugs and kisses and more.

  “Wake up, Lila. I met your Mr. Quartermain on the road. He’s bringing your horse home.”

  She knew that voice. She opened her eyes. Josh Gibson grinned down at her. If he mentioned what Jet intended to do when he got home, she would hit him. Hard. He backed away. Considering what part of his anatomy she could reach from her position, it was a good idea.

  “What are you doing here?” She struggled to sit up, having fallen asleep on the window seat, waiting for Jet after Houston brought her home.

  “I’m making an arrest.”

  ‘For riding my own horse!”

  “Are you Roger Simpson?”

  She blinked at him, still half-asleep. “Who?”

  “Me,” said Houston, coming down the stairs.

  “Why’re you arresting him?” She crossed her arms, trying to rub her itchy nipples without them noticing. Houston’s eyes lit up.

  “Want some help with that? You want fingers, teeth, or both this time?”

  Her breasts swelled at the memory of his teeth on one nipple while his thumb and finger tweaked the other. She sent him a glare. He winked, then turned serious.

  “Long story short, this arrest is a set-up by my mother,” said Houston. “She now knows I’m here. And that means you have to be even more careful.”

  “Why were you so worried about me riding alone when your mother didn’t know you were here?” asked Lila. Josh and Houston exchanged glances. “There’s
something else happening, and you don’t trust me enough to tell me.”

  It took her back to her early teens when her cousins would arrange to do something. They’d make sure she knew they were up to something great, and refuse to tell her. After, they’d laugh about what a great time they had, in her presence.

  More of those damn baby tears threaten to erupt. Blue’s welcome-home whinny was a relief.

  “I’ve got to go help,” she said. “Jet’s not used to my mare. I don’t want her to bite or kick him.”

  Josh and Houston followed her outside. Judging by his expression, Jet’s mood had not improved. At this point she didn’t care. She was pretty pissed off at him for hiding the information about Houston’s mother. If she’d known there was a reason why they wanted her to stay on the ranch, she probably wouldn’t have taken that ride. Probably.

  “Don’t blame me for your sore butt,” she called out. “I told you not to ride Blue home.”

  “I wouldn’t laugh about a sore butt if I was you,” he replied crisply. “What you did was severe enough that I’m considering a riding crop, instead of my hand.”

  She shivered at his cold glance. Part was due to a touch of fear, but the rest was from anticipation. The thought of him putting his hands on her, for whatever reason, revved her up. As for the riding crop, there wasn’t any on the ranch. Unless he had one in his bag? Another shiver of delicious fear revved her up. Was something wrong with her for feeling like this? If so, it affected most of the valley.

  “Dayam, it ain’t right I have to miss Lila’s spanking,” said Houston, pouting like her young cousin, James. “C’ain’t y’all wait around ’til we’re done?” he asked Josh. “We could do it right here on the porch—”

  “What?” Lila shot him a look of horror. He grinned, and she realized he was pulling her leg. Something had changed between him bringing her home and her waking up. She backed away from the men. “This has nothing to do with the sheriff.”