The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  Not only was he horny, having gone without Nikki’s sweetness for days, he was irritated from having to put up with Brewster. Time for his pet to relieve all that frustration. Sex by itself would be good, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted her on her back, begging with silent eyes for him to allow her to come while he tasted every fold.

  The click of a lock had him moving. He pushed open the double doors to the suite as her fanny escaped onto the deck. Damn! Too much woolgathering.

  He didn’t hurry, but he did take long strides across the room. The cats, who’d of course taken over the bed as usual, glanced idly at him. They’d move when he tossed his woman on the bed.

  She’d left the sliding doors open behind her. She was working at the tricky lock at the top of the stairs. They had lots of children visiting, and many of them were just as wild as their parents used to be. The barrier went up to his waist, and the door even higher. She’d just managed to find the lever when he stepped near. Since she had to pull the door toward herself to open it, all he had to do was stand behind to trap her.

  She trembled, her hand shaking on the latch. If he couldn’t see that her nipples pressed hard against her shirt, he might have been concerned.

  “Going somewhere, pet?”

  “I believe I mentioned a walk,” she replied stiffly.

  “And I said no.”

  “What makes you think you can tell me what to do?”

  He rested his right hand on her hip. Just lightly, a reminder only.

  “I’m bigger.” He kissed her temple. “Stronger.” Her cheek. “More powerful.” He nuzzled behind her ear. “And far more determined.”

  He bit the cord of her neck, just enough that she’d feel it, but not enough to bruise. She inhaled sharply, arching her back. Her nipples stood out from the fuzzy blue sweater she’d thrown on. The skimpy bra underneath barely held her breasts up. It didn’t even cover her nipples. And thank God for that!

  “What’s your safe word?” he asked.

  Wide eyes met his over her shoulder. She blinked, focused, then spoke. “Aardvark.”

  “Good girl.”

  He took a step back, giving her space. She bolted, as expected. Before she could get far he grabbed her around the waist from behind. She screamed when he lifted her. She kicked out, punching and screaming. She had a lot of tension to release before settling, and making her furious would speed the process. A good fight would also make her horny as hell. Him, as well.

  “Let me go, you brute!”

  “Brute?” He smacked the right cheek of her ass. She screeched again. “This is nothing, pet.”

  He allowed her a few moments of rebellion, which she used to fight and kick and scream for him to put her down.

  So he set her down facing one of the sturdy posts holding up the wall. She grabbed it and tried to haul herself over the support. It was a good twelve feet from the deck to the ground, plus the height of the wall. He pushed her belly against it, grinding his groin into her ass to hold her snug.

  “Are you ready to submit to me?” he demanded.

  “No!” She screamed the word, shaking her head so hard her short hair flopped. “Let me go!”

  “Not until you submit!”

  He held her against the pole with his groin and knee as he undid her skirt’s button and zipper. Then he pulled it down. The whole time she screamed and fought and called him names, threatening him with everything under the sun.

  She did not, however, use her safe word.

  It took nothing to yank down her loose pants and bare her ass to the sun. He used his foot to pull the last of the fabric to the deck. When she lifted her foot to kick, he pulled it free.

  Then there was nothing between her pussy and his cock but his jeans.

  His cock fought to sink into her heat, proving his mastery in the oldest way known to mankind. That would come, but not yet. First she had to break free, but not of him. Of her past. No matter how much he enjoyed this, he did it for her.

  “You have been naughty, pet,” he said calmly. He ran his callused palm over the soft curve of her ass. She trembled, fighting to breathe. “Do you know what happens to naughty girls who don’t do as they’re told?”

  “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman,” she replied, choking out the words.

  He let his fingers drift into the cleft of her peach-like ass. She was so wet and eager that his middle finger slid right into her pussy. She clenched it. He tsked, and withdrew.

  “You’re certainly a woman, all wet and eager for my cock. But you’re also a naughty girl. And naughty girls get spanked.” He gave her a light tap. She jerked. “How many are you up to now, pet?”

  “None!”

  He swatted her harder. She squeaked, but said nothing.

  “You’re new to this, so maybe I should take it easy on you.” Her head shook, just the tiniest bit, but he picked it up. “But you stole my truck, and that deserves more than a couple of taps.” She inhaled, holding her breath. “For that, you’re getting a bare-assed walloping. That will teach you to behave.”

  “Don’t you dare put your hand on me!”

  Since he already had his palm covering her cheek, he gave it a good squeeze. “I’ve had my hands on you for a while, pet. And you want more.”

  “No! I want to go home!”

  He snuck his arm between her belly and the post, getting a good grip on her.

  “You are home. And you’ll stay here until I say, doing exactly what I want. Understand?”

  He backed up, yanking her from the pole. She went crazy, fighting to escape. He held her snug, careful to let her rage but not hurt either of them. When she slowed enough to walk, he manhandled her into the bedroom. There was a sturdy bench at the end of the bed. He sat, then flipped her over his lap, her pussy directly over his eager cock. He brought the flat of his hand down on her white cheek.

  A moment of shock, then she screamed in fury. He held her down with both hands as a large pink handprint blossomed on her right cheek. He admired it for a moment, then provided a matching one on the left. He wasn’t doing this for his own pleasure, though he did enjoy the feel of her squirming under him. Nikki had held everything inside for too long. All her life she’d had to be strong for Marci, for her mother, for her patients—and that meant denying her pain, worry, and more.

  He began a series of spanks, carefully spaced to allow her to react to one, before another landed. He watched her closely to ensure he gave her enough, but stopped at the right time.

  When Nikki arrived in a new town, shoved into a classroom of strangers halfway through the school year, she’d had to pretend it didn’t matter the other children shunned her. It didn’t matter she didn’t fit in. It was the only life she knew, and she went into it with her head high. Because of her size, perhaps she had to fight back with her fists as well as words.

  Fists hurt, but pain passed a lot faster than ugly words that crawled into your soul.

  He hadn’t moved, needing to prove himself with different people each time. He’d grown up in one place with people who knew his entire family history. Perhaps in some ways that was harder as it mattered what they thought. Mattered to parents, his relatives, and to Matt.

  Nikki had been alone, other than her sister and mother, both of whom loved her. He’d been surrounded by an entire town who said they cared, but only if he was like them. When he said no to the life they held dear, they’d turned their backs on him. He’d run, like a scared kid.

  He was no child now. He had no job to use as an excuse to escape. Few knew it yet, but when he didn’t leave, how would they react? He hadn’t burned bridges, but he’d taken an ax to a few. His parents, for instance. He’d hated seeing the pity in their eyes, pity that he didn’t measure up.

  At least, he’d thought it was pity.

  He watched Nikki carefully as his thoughts ran all over the place. She wasn’t in conscious control of herself, but her state of mind was telegraphed by her actions. When her efforts to fight like a she-devil slowe
d, so did his hand. When she slumped, limp and sobbing, her gently picked her up, turned her around, and let her curl into him. Her shrieks had near-deafened his ears, and his palms were almost as sore as her pink bottom must be. That was all immaterial. She’d surrendered herself to him. She’d let go of her control, breaking through the protective shell she’d created over all those years.

  “That’s a good girl,” he murmured as she sobbed into his chest.

  He stood, cradling her sobbing body. He held her snug against him as he carried her to the porch swing, kept in the huge room during the winter, and set it gently rocking. She clung to his neck as great, wracking sobs filled the room. In many ways she was like one of his cousin’s babies with a sore tummy. Not knowing why it hurt, or that the pain could pass, only feeling pain and wanting comfort.

  “Let it all out,” he said, rubbing her back in slow circles. “You’ve kept everything in for so long. All those times you didn’t cry because you had to be strong. All those times you were scared, or embarrassed, or angry. You aren’t alone anymore. I’m here, sweet Nikki. Let it all out. I’ll take care of you. You’re safe.”

  Rocking and comforting, he repeated those words, or ones like them, until she wound down. He needed a box of tissues, but that could wait. Everything could wait. Nikki needed him. When was the last time someone he cared about had needed him? Him specifically?

  He’d thought Vivian needed him, but he’d just been convenient. A tall, decent-enough-looking cowboy with delusions of grandeur. She’d never wanted him, just a protector who gave her everything she wanted without counting the cost. He hadn’t counted it either. Not at the time. But he’d learned a lot since then.

  He wasn’t a naïve kid far from home, believing that the woman in his arms felt the same way he did. Nikki was the one who’d invaded his world, sneaking under his radar and into his heart—

  His heart? The rhythm of the swing ruptured. He set it going again, needing to soothe Nikki as she emerged from her cathartic release. The adrenaline surging through his body made him want to fight whatever attacked, or run. But he’d given up on running. It didn’t solve anything, just put off the inevitable.

  He’d run from the nightmares, refusing to demand Max tell him what had really happened that night. But they’d gotten worse, increasing in strength each time he came home and found himself alone. The more he pretended they didn’t exist, the larger the invisible monsters grew. Only by opening that closet and shining a light on them had he reduced those terrifying shadows to the bare facts. He hadn’t had a nightmare since.

  He and Max had saved a younger girl and boy from hours of torture, maybe even death. The pair might still have horrid memories, but they’d been rescued and returned to their homes. They also knew the ones who’d attacked them had gone to prison.

  The prison cell his sleeping mind produced was a product of his fear, not reality. Was it tied into that night in the Gibson shed? Looking back, it wasn’t the rattler bite that had him shivering. It was knowing how bad his mother would feel if he died.

  And what had he done? Caused her pain by refusing to come home for long, for rarely calling them, and for cutting short the few visits they had to HQ in Texas.

  As an adult he’d caused the very thing that had terrified him as a boy.

  Had he been wrong about other things as well? He’d braced himself for rejection this visit when he entered the feed store, the mercantile, and the barbershop. He’d avoided the diner at breakfast because the old men sat around and compared stories and he was sure they’d pull out all the things they remembered he’d done as a boy.

  But no one had shunned him. They’d called out greetings, asking how he was, if he’d heard from his parents, how long was he staying this time, and did he have a special lady yet?

  Would Nikki feel the pounding in his chest over her own? He rested his chin on her head and inhaled. Strawberries. From scented shampoo? It reminded him of sunny days in hot meadows picking the wild fruit, stuffing as much into his mouth as went into his basket. He and Matt would try to find the best patch, one with more berries, bigger berries, or anything else they could boast about. He’d watch Mom with Dad and Pops as they laughed and said things he didn’t quite hear, things that made Mom turn pink.

  The eyes of a child were self-absorbed, but those of a man shouldn’t be. He’d misjudged so much, acting like that child instead of facing the truth.

  Nikki inhaled, shuddering. He tightened his arms around her. She was the focus now, not him. Later, when he was alone, he’d reexamine his life. He wasn’t sure what would come out of it, but one thing was clear. He had one hell of a lot of humble pie to eat.

  He rocked, holding Nikki close, enjoying the warmth of her curving body. Her bottom snuggled into his lap, her left shoulder pressed into his chest. Her breathing had slowed as she relaxed after her emotional storm. He concentrated on doing the same.

  She’d given her trust to him, completely. A sharp pain touched his heart, piercing something, then was gone. After how many years, she’d finally leaned on someone else.

  Could he do the same?

  Another thing to put aside until later. The only thing that mattered right now was Nikki. She’d broken through her emotional shell, and needed comfort. His cock throbbed in eagerness, but that wasn’t the comfort she needed.

  Not yet.

  He released her just long enough to snag the tissue box he’d placed on the seat beside them. She grabbed a few, used them, then settled back against him again.

  “Better now?”

  “I soaked your shirt.”

  Her soft words, interrupted by a hiccup, made him smile.

  “It’ll dry.” He kissed her temple. “You okay here? We could lie down. Just for a cuddle, or maybe a nap.”

  “I just want you to hold me,” she said in a small voice. She sounded like one of his tiny cousins.

  “That’s good, because I want to hold you, too.” He slightly adjusted her position to make it less obvious what his underlying intentions were.

  “You want more than that,” she replied, then followed it with what might almost be a giggle.

  So much for hiding the woody straining his pants. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. You need cuddles and chocolate, not me pawing you.”

  “Chocolate?”

  He’d prepared for damn near everything. Beside the tissue box was a bowl with broken pieces of dark chocolate. The rest of the bar, wrapped in gold foil, was on the table. He held up one of the pieces.

  “Open up.”

  She parted her soft lips like a hungry bird, or a trusting child. Nikki was no child. Far from it. But she trusted him enough to do as he asked.

  Or maybe she just wanted the chocolate, fool.

  The reason didn’t matter. She was in his arms, and for once he was content.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Nikki let the rich, dark chocolate slowly melt in her mouth. She didn’t want to move from Eric’s warm embrace. Didn’t want to think about what had happened, or what might. She just wanted to be here, now, like this.

  With him.

  His heart thudded under her left ear. She’d made his shirt wet with her tears. Her right hand, curled under her shoulder as she leaned against his chest, grasped the damp cloth. His hand gently rubbed her back in slow circles as he rocked them.

  Was this what it felt like to be cherished and loved? Not that he loved her, of course. He had an agenda and this was part of his plan. A good part, but still something he wanted. Though Eric had done the unthinkable and spanked her, what he’d done, and her reaction to it, had nothing to do with childhood.

  Her mother had never needed to discipline her. From birth she’d done as she was told, because it was necessary. Her mother must have played with her, simple baby games such as peek-a-boo. She remembered playing with Marci that way, so she had to learn it from somewhere. Many of those games were a way to pass time until their mother came home. No matter how worried she was, she had to pret
end that everything was fine, for Marci’s sake.

  How many times did they pretend they were stranded on a desert island and had to make do with stale crackers and slimy peanut butter? They couldn’t afford the name brand version that the other kids at school had in their lunchboxes. She hated the cheaper stuff, but it was protein, and filled their stomachs.

  She’d survived, and prospered, and so had Marci. That’s all that counted.

  And now, six feet tall and thirty-six years old, she was curled in a man’s lap after being spanked. She’d fought with everything she had, kicking and screaming, straining her muscles against his. She’d attacked, using him as the embodiment of everyone who’d shamed her because of who, and what, she was. She’d attacked her fear of being alone and unprotected, and of being rejected, denied love and affection.

  She wanted a man who desired her no matter what she said, or did. One who could take everything she threw at him, and still stand firm. There was a child within her who needed someone bigger and stronger to protect her. Someone to prove she was not alone, unwanted, and unworthy of love.

  The intellectual physician part of her understood Eric used his hand on her as a physical stimulus, a way to reach her core of fury through tactile means. He’d taken her in his hands and used the sting of his palm to prove she was alive. The arousing pain had both grounded and infuriated her.

  He’d held against her storm until she was forced to break through the protective shell she’d erected to protect her from the world. A shell that kept hurtful memories in, and the chance of love out. She’d broken that barrier, and in doing so, submitted herself to his care. Eric Frost had overpowered her, proving he had the physical strength to protect her. In submitting she passed him the responsibility of caring for her. She trusted him to take the place of her shell, protecting her from the world.

  The emotions she’d kept inside for all those years had erupted. He’d taken her in his arms and held her, rocking and soothing her as she cried for the little girl who couldn’t. His arms still wrapped around her like a safety net. And it felt good. So good that she opened her mouth for another piece of sinfully rich dark chocolate.