The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “She knows it, and pushes you anyway?”

  Keith nodded. He stared at the door as if the two women would magically appear.

  “Yep. But now and then she needs a reminder.” He tossed his beer into the garbage bin. “I go after her and haul her back. It takes a while for her screaming and fighting to wear off, but by then she’s on a hair trigger to explode.”

  Lance thought for a moment. Had Keith said what Lance had heard? If so, it meant sometimes Aggie wanted to be taken against her will, and would make sure Keith knew it. She’d even plan ahead, making sure she wore something she didn’t mind being ripped off.

  Lance would never harm a woman. But what man didn’t have dark fantasies of taking what he wanted, no matter what? It seemed some women had the equal but opposite fantasy.

  “Happen often?”

  “Not often enough. But the way she’s been sassing me, I think she’s overdue.” He nodded. “After she feeds Sophie the two of us will be taking a drive. We’ve got a line cabin back in the hills with good sound insulation. When I take her there she knows she’s going to get what’s coming to her.” Keith’s lip twitched. “I told her not to wear those jeans. Tonight, I’m going to cut them off. Sheriff better not be stopping my truck on the way back as she won’t be wearing much other than boots.”

  “Of course, you’ll take a well-rutted road for her sore ass?”

  The corners of Keith’s eyes crinkled.

  “Always thought you were a smart man.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Marci twirled, her hand over her head in Lance’s, before being pulled back against his chest. He held her snug as they moved across the floor. After a few hours of dancing, and four beers, she was relaxed enough to enjoy herself.

  “You ready to try again?” he asked, and grasped her hips.

  “Oh, God!”

  He didn’t wait for her approval. Grinning like a crazy fool, he lifted her up in a swooping arc. She put her hands on his shoulders and balanced with her feet toward the ceiling. He held her hips with his big hands, but soon gravity took control and her feet went sideways. She shrieked as she toppled, but he tossed her up, then easily caught her in his arms as she fell.

  “Took you long enough to find yourself a good woman,” yelled one of Lance’s friends over the music.

  “Do it right, do it once,” he replied before looking down at her. “You did better this time. Having fun?”

  “The best in my life,” she replied.

  It was true. She’d had a chat with Brenda as well as Aggie, though about different aspects of Lance. Brenda had assured her that both men were good family men who’d stand by her no matter what. She’d overheard a number of people say how glad they were to have Lance back in town. More than a few had shot a look at her and asked when the wedding was.

  “Good. But it’s time to head home. Chores come early.”

  “I guess you were up early, driving here?”

  He shrugged it off. “I wanted to meet you.” He tugged her closer to him. “Kissing you would help make up for all that driving.”

  As in the truck, he brought his face close to hers slowly, giving her the option of retreating. The beer, and getting used to his touch by dancing, had revved up her arousal levels. She wrapped her arms round his neck and opened her mouth to him.

  He tasted of pretzels and the soda he drank instead of beer. She was just getting into the kiss, wishing they were in the truck with no one around, when someone jostled them. Lance pulled away. She blinked, finally focusing on Keith’s face.

  “Marci, I need you to roust Aggie.”

  “What?” she asked, still reeling from the intensity of the kiss.

  “My wife has decided to hide in the washroom,” he said dryly. “If you’ll make sure there’s no one else in there, I’ll haul her home.”

  His expression, stern but eager, suggested Aggie was going to get what she wanted. But she really wanted Keith to work for it. Marci wanted to have a front row seat of the action, to learn what she might be in for. Considering how the evening had gone with Lance, there was a very good chance she’d be spending her life here. The thought warmed her heart, as well as other places farther south.

  Lance set her feet on the floor, made sure she could stand upright, and released her. She walked to the washroom and, knowing eyes were on her, made sure she swung her hips. She wasn’t against a bit of sexual teasing herself.

  Aggie sat on the counter between the sinks. She was pulling the label off the empty bottle in her hand. Marci decided to use the facilities while she was there since it was a long drive home. She confirmed they were alone and faced her friend as she washed her hands.

  “I’ve been sent to, as Keith said, roust you.”

  Aggie toasted her with the empty bottle. “Thanks, but if Keith wants me, he can come in here and get me.”

  “Are you sure? He seemed a bit wired.”

  “Very sure. And you can tell him that for me.”

  “Aggie!” Both women jumped at the heavy pounding at the door.

  “Guess I won’t have to,” replied Marci. She put her hand on Aggie’s arm, discovering she trembled. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Haven’t done this in a few years, so I’m a bit nervous. But I’m eager, too.”

  “Call me, will you?” asked Marci. “Or even better, let me know when Donny and Keith are gone and I’ll drive over. I don’t want to intrude, but I’ve got more questions.”

  “You like Lance, don’t you?”

  Marci nodded. “That’s what confuses me. I shouldn’t want him to do those things to me, but—”

  “Get that sweet butt of yours out here or I’ll be paddling it on the dance floor!”

  “Oh, oh,” said Aggie. She giggled. “He’s never said that before.”

  “Would he do it?”

  Aggie jumped off the counter. “Keith does not make threats. What he says, goes.” She handed Marci the beer bottle. “You’d best get out of the way while you can.”

  “Good luck, and call me.”

  Marci pushed the door open to find Keith with his hand up, about to pound it again. He glared down at her. She held up her hands, still holding the bottle in one of them.

  “Aggie’s all alone in there.”

  “Not for long.”

  Marci realized not only had the music stopped, the entire crowd was eagerly watching. Keith rolled back his shoulders, gently pushed Marci aside, where she was caught by Lance. Keith went inside, pushing the door shut behind himself.

  A shriek pierced the silence. It was followed by a deep roar, and another shriek. Lance pulled her back, closer against his front, just before the door opened. Keith triumphantly carried Aggie over his shoulder. One hand held her feet from kicking him while the other spanked her upraised bottom. Each spank was followed by a feminine shriek.

  Marci looked up when they passed. Aggie pummeled Keith’s back with her fists. She raised her head, saw Marci, and grinned. Keith’s hand descended again and she howled, punching him even harder.

  Though she wanted to follow the others out, Lance kept them still until the saloon emptied. She could hear good-natured comments, for and against both Aggie and Keith, with a few in Donny’s favor as well.

  Then Lance’s hand captured her breast. She gasped, inhaling as she arched her back. He skimmed his palm over her protruding nipple. She couldn’t move. His head descended until his teeth brushed the tight spot between her neck and her shoulder.

  “Aggie’s been wanting Keith to overpower her for a long time,” whispered Lance against her skin. His teeth lightly nipped their way up toward her ear. She tilted her head to encourage him. He squeezed her breast, then rolled it in a circle. “Something tells me you would like a bit of rough play some day.”

  Was that what they called it, rough play? Would she want to be tossed over Lance’s shoulder, her bottom spanked, and hauled out to his truck in front of everyone in town?

  “Would you want your man to pr
ove how much he wants you? To give you the hard loving that you crave?”

  “I…I don’t know,” she whispered.

  His face was nestled in her neck, so she felt his smile.

  “A good, honest answer. Everything is negotiable as long as you don’t say “never”.” He turned her body so they were chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around her and inhaled. “Time to go.” Instead of releasing her, he lifted her into his arms.

  Embarrassed at being seen like this, she struggled to get loose. “Put me down! I can walk.”

  “I will if you don’t want my touch. But if you are complaining because others will see me carrying you, then no.”

  “But—”

  “I care for my woman. You walked toward the washroom as if your feet were sore. I don’t want you to get blisters. So I will carry you.”

  It was true. Her feet were sore, as the boots fit worse each hour she had them on. She hadn’t realized how bad it was until he mentioned it. Now that he had, they burned. She couldn’t wait to get them off.

  His reasons for carrying her made sense. Not to show her off as a prize he was taking home to plunder, but because he noticed she was hurting. Because he wanted to take care of her.

  She liked him, a lot. He’d been attentive but not overwhelming all night. He’d introduced her to people, not as his woman, but as a woman under his protection. While she didn’t know exactly what that meant, others got the message quickly. She curled her head into his neck, inhaling his scent.

  “Thank you for caring for me, Lance. Please, take me home.”

  She thought she heard a low growl resonate in his chest but laughing and chattering people burst into the room.

  “What’s the matter with Marci?” asked Brenda, rushing forward with a frown.

  “My feet are sore and Lance is such a gentleman that he wanted to carry me to the truck,” said Marci before Lance could say something about her boots. She didn’t want to draw attention to them in case someone recognized them. Because her jeans covered the shafts, no one had noticed.

  Brenda’s look of concern evaporated, replaced by a sly wink.

  “Right,” she said, nodding while grinning. “Sore feet. Of course.”

  People moved out of the way as Lance strode past. Knowing looks made Marci blush. She counted on the dim light, along with her dusky skin, to hide it. She waved goodbye, telling herself it was for Lance since his hands were tied up with holding her. She’d never been in a group of people so intent on having fun. Part of that seemed to mean playing practical jokes on friends, or saying things to embarrass them. Nothing she’d heard was cruel or mean. These people seemed to care about each other, even though they laughed at their foibles.

  She relaxed against Lance as he crunched his way across the gravel to the truck. When he set her down to open the door she couldn’t stop the gasp. The next thing she knew the door was open, she was on the passenger seat facing him, and he was gently tugging at her left boot heel.

  A sharp pain erupted. She gasped, clutching his shirt with her fist to hold on to something.

  “That bad?” he asked.

  “It’s okay,” she said, fighting tears. “Pull it off.”

  “If I pull this boot off and hurt you because you’ve lied to me, you will get a spanking.”

  “What?” she glared at him. “What’s the logic in that?”

  The dome light was on so she could see him clearly. She didn’t understand his expression. Was he angry, sad, or something else?

  “Marci, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. If you lie to me, and I end up hurting you, I will not be happy.” He leaned closer, until they were almost eye to eye. “You do not want that to happen. Tell me the truth, always.”

  “It hurts,” she replied. “Like a burn. I was trying to be tough. You know, to cowboy up.”

  “If our child was about to step out onto the street when a car was coming by, I would expect you to run after him in these boots no matter how much it hurt. That would be cowboying up. These boots are garbage. Nothing will be harmed by you admitting your pain.”

  He reached down, lifting his right foot up at the same time. She couldn’t see what he did. A very long, very sharp knife appeared in his hand. He pushed up her jeans, motioning for her to hold them. Then he split the seams on her boot. Her foot came out. The chill air was a relief, and she groaned. He looked at her foot, cursed under his breath using a language she didn’t understand, and repeated it with her other boot. She lifted her feet. Blisters had formed and broken on her heels and a few of her toes.

  “It hurt, but I didn’t know it was that bad,” she said.

  “I should have noticed earlier,” he murmured. “My fault.”

  “Why is it your fault?”

  He took one of her feet in each big hand, wrapping his fingers underneath her insteps. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and hummed. A tingling sensation spread out from his hands. She watched silently. Whatever it was he did, the pain dropped drastically. When he was finished he still looked furious.

  “Are you angry at me for this?” she asked quietly.

  He dropped his head. His shoulder-length glossy black hair rippled as he shook it.

  “I’m angry at me. It is inexcusable that I allowed my woman to come to harm.”

  “Maybe you should be horsewhipped.”

  He jerked his head up. She shrugged, giving a wry smile. “You’re too big for me to put over my shoulder and spank, like Keith did Aggie.”

  He stared at her for a second then exploded into a laugh. He continued chuckling as he helped her turn around and do up her seatbelt. When he shut his own door he exhaled, looking out the front window. He seemed far more relaxed than he had at any time since she first saw him.

  “I need a woman like you to keep me on my toes.” He turned to her and held out his hand. “No matter what, I would like you as a friend.”

  She took his hand. “Friends,” she agreed.

  She saw a glint of devilment before he scooted closer and raised her hand to his lips. She didn’t know how he could make her tremble all over from just one kiss on the fingers.

  “Friends, yes,” he murmured. “But even better, would be friends as well as lovers.”

  Her body felt so aroused from his presence, his dark edge, and too many hours of arousal denied, that if they’d been anywhere near a bed she might have thrown herself on it and begged him to take her. Hard. Repeatedly. The laughter she saw reflected in his eyes suggested he knew it, too. But he just released her fingers with a last, chaste, kiss.

  “When we get home you’ll soak your feet while Simon feeds you. I’ve got something that will heal them quickly.”

  “While Simon feeds me?”

  He snapped his seatbelt into place, started the truck, and put it into gear before turning back to answer.

  “If I get within three feet of your naked body I will find it very difficult not to keep you in constant orgasms for days.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Marci thought about Lance’s words all the way home. She was primed and ready. So was Lance. Why not enjoy each other? She knew enough about Simon to be sure he would be just as eager.

  She was quiet as Lance carried her into the kitchen. When Simon saw her bare, bloody feet, he cursed. She wasn’t sure at whom. He rushed off to get a bucket while Lance set her down on a chair. She cleared her throat, wanting to get this over while they were still alone.

  “What you said about touching me? I don’t see a problem with that.” He reared back, stuffing his hands in his back pockets. “I’m in favor of constant orgasms.”

  She tried to make it sound light, rather than desperate. Lance didn’t take it lightly. He stared at her so hard she had to drop her head. What had she said that was so bad?

  “The problem, dear lady,” he said, using quiet precision that suggested just how upset he was, “is once I touch you, I will never let you go. Unless you are very sure you want Simon, and me, forever, and will abide by what I’
ve told you, I will not touch you again. Neither will Simon.”

  “You won’t?”

  “If you want us, it’s forever. Once you make your decision, there is no going back.”

  His face, lit by the harsh light directly over his head, resembled his ravens more than she’d thought possible.

  She’d already made a forever decision and had spent twelve years regretting it. And now Lance was forcing her to do the same. Why couldn’t they have a trial run, like she and Simon had. Spend a few weeks getting to know each other, in bed and out, and making sure that this was not a bad decision.

  Lance was putting it all on her shoulders. She could have what she wanted, but she’d have to live with it. Live with him telling her what to do. With him punishing her like a child, if she disobeyed.

  No, it wasn’t like a child at all. Aggie loved it when Keith proved how much he cared for her by doing what she secretly craved. The question was, did Marci want the same thing?

  How could she find out unless she tried it first? The man watching her insisted she make her decision, one that could not be revoked, before she knew what she was getting into.

  She wanted to fight him, to attack with fists and feet and everything else, just as Aggie had. He was so big that he could easily overpower her. Then he’d hold her down and laugh, knowing he could do anything he wanted, because he was a man.

  And if she said no to part of it, he’d throw her out. She’d lose Simon as well. And, because she couldn’t live here and see them, she’d have to move. She’d lose her sister, and all the friends she’d made.

  Just because a man thought he was more important than a woman!

  Deep inside arousal at the thought of Simon and Lance’s touch fought with something she’d locked down for far too long.

  She stood, too upset to sit quietly. She paced, arms wrapped around herself. Her emotions had been in turmoil since the night of the fire. Her worry at meeting Lance, and everything he and Aggie had said, added to the things from her past she had yet to deal with.