The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

She moaned then rolled onto her back. Her firm breasts were topped with large nipples, hard nipples that pointed to the sky. Was she dreaming? Another moan and her hand drifted toward a breast. Yeah, she was dreaming, and it was a humdinger. Her hand flopped back to the rug.

  Those two nipples called to him. They told him they were lonely, that they could use a pair of soft, wet lips on them right about now.

  I can’t touch her breasts without an invite!

  She licked her lips and moaned again.

  What about kissing her lips? Gently, just to see if she was interested? If she wasn’t he’d find out. She’d slammed Sam pretty damn fast. Was tasting her worth getting a black eye?

  Oh, hell, yes!

  Trey cleared his throat, testing to see if she’d wake. Nothing. He walked closer, stepping heavily on the rug. Still nothing.

  “You awake? Because I really want to kiss you.” Her lips moved, as if puckering up for a kiss. “That was a yes, right?” She sighed, and her mouth opened. “That’s good enough for me.”

  He knelt beside her, rested his right hand by her shoulder, and slowly brought his face close. Her nostrils flared as if she was inhaling. She didn’t open her eyes, scream, or screw up her face in disgust, so he kept going.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

  “Kiss,” she murmured. The corners of her mouth turned up.

  He took it slowly, wary about her punch. The smell of lemon cleanser was strong, but he was sure there was something enticing underneath. He’d think about that later. Their lips touched. She parted hers, enticing him in. He deepened the kiss just a bit, a question rather than a violation.

  She answered by curling her arm over his head and pulling him down. Though startled he managed to land on his right shoulder and hip rather than crush her. Somehow he did it without breaking the kiss. She growled and rolled, pinning him onto his back as she took over. Trey was sure she was awake and demanding more. He eagerly slid his hands down her sides to cup her very nice ass. He squeezed his encouragement.

  She pulled back. Green eyes glared down at him. Or were they blue?

  She scrambled off, barely missing his erection with her knee. She rolled to her feet and went into a fighting stance. Though she was vertical he wasn’t sure she was awake so he stayed where he was, knee bent protectively over his cock. Just in case, he lifted his hands to fend off a punch or kick. The way his cock and balls were swollen an attack could do significant damage. He noticed her nipples hadn’t gone down.

  “It’s okay, Katie,” he said, sounding calm though his heart still pounded. “You’re at the Rocking E Ranch. We hired you to do some heavy cleaning for a few days.”

  “Who the hell is ‘we’?”

  “I’m Trey Elliott, and Sam’s in the barn. You punched Sam this morning then worked at Tom and Dorothy Wright’s roadhouse. Our mother hurt her arm so you came here to clean. Any of that sound familiar?”

  He watched recognition dawn. Her fear faded, replaced by anger. She stuck her chin out.

  “You kissed me!”

  Fury looked good on her. Trey knew enough about women not to mention it. He would love to have a wrestling session with her one day. Maybe put the California king-sized mattress on the floor as a mat, then when he had her pinned, he’d have his wicked way with her. Of course he’d have her full cooperation in a refusal-to-give-in way. There was nothing like a bit of full-body-contact wrestling to get the sexual juices flowing, especially when ripping off her clothes was part of the play. Katie’s clothes were in such bad shape they’d be perfect.

  She wasn’t ready for that yet, unfortunately.

  “Yes, I did,” he admitted. “I saw you were going to get a crick in your neck from sleeping on the floor so was going to wake you. After you slugged Sam I held back but you moaned, and then you…” He made a hand motion, hoping he wouldn’t have to go into detail.

  “I what?” She narrowed her eyes, making it an ultimatum.

  He straightened to his full height. Her blush paled, then like a knee-high terrier facing a mastiff she set her feet. Her eyes dared him to try something so she could attack.

  “You puckered up your lips, which I took for an invite. I asked if you wanted a kiss. You said, ‘Kiss.’ Our lips barely touched when you grabbed me, flipped me on my back, and took over.” He chanced a hint of a smile and a knowing wink. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

  Her color deepened. She crossed her arms under her breasts, likely to seem tough. Instead, it emphasized her considerable assets. Though a bit thin she had a woman’s curves. His hands tingled in memory of her full ass.

  “I was dreaming!”

  “Face it, you had lustful intentions toward my body.”

  “Not consciously!”

  At least she didn’t try to deny attacking him. “That must’ve been some dream. Care to share?” Her blush suggested what she refused to speak out loud.

  “Why did you kiss me?”

  That stopped him. He wouldn’t tell her about Sam’s dare. Women didn’t like that sort of thing.

  “Seriously?”

  “Always.” Her chin rose even higher.

  “You mean, other than you’re a damn fine-lookin’ woman, your nipples were hard, and when you hauled me on top of you—”

  “I never did!”

  Her hands, curled into fists, dropped to her sides. She held her arms rigid. The pink of her blush clashed with her hair, though it suited her. He bet her nipples were the same shade of pink, like a rosebud.

  “Hate to argue with a woman, so since I’m right, I’ll just stop.” She pressed her lips together as if to stop herself from speaking. “You are one damn fine kisser, Katie. Anytime you want more, just whistle. I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  He stuck his arms in his front pockets and leaned back on his sock-clad heels. It put his erection front and center. He looked at her from head to toe and back up again, going slow on all the interesting bits. Her eyes dropped to do the same to him. When she hit his belt buckle she gulped, clenched her jaw, and glared up at him.

  “Don’t expect me to whistle anytime soon!”

  He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a caress. “If you didn’t like it, why was I flat on my back with your breasts holding me down?”

  She choked. “I wasn’t…you held me down.”

  “How could you have rolled to your feet so easily if I was on top of you?” Her blush now matched her faded pink T-shirt, snug over swollen breasts.

  “Are you saying I attacked you?” she demanded.

  Trey shook his head, keeping his eyes on hers. He sent out calming vibes as if she was a skittish horse. Calming, but arousing as well. He wanted more of her, whether she could whistle or not.

  “You were in an erotic dream and when I touched you, you reached for what you wanted.” He winked. “It’s not an attack if the person enjoyed himself.” He dropped his eyes to her breasts, making it obvious. “Looks like I’m not the only one who wanted it.”

  “Well, don’t touch me again!” This time she crossed her arms to cover her breasts. Again, she didn’t deny her actions.

  “I won’t touch you unless you’re awake, aware, and ask me for it.” He used his index finger to make a cross over his heart. “I keep my promises.”

  She suddenly yawned, her mouth opening wide before she slapped her hand over it.

  “Bed,” he said.

  “You just said you won’t touch—”

  “Katie, you’re exhausted, still half-asleep, and unsteady on your feet. I’ve got the water running for your bath.”

  She stilled. Those blue-green eyes opened wide.

  “Bath?” she asked, soft and hopeful.

  His urge to care for her, to have her turn to him with trust, surged past his arousal. He realized the two were linked. He wanted to caress her sore muscles, and to drive her wild with passion. At the same time, he wanted to make those eyes spark with fury and turn her over his lap, knowing she wanted it as w
ell. That was not going to happen. Not yet. She needed a bath, food, and sleep.

  “This tub’s so big someone like you could almost swim in it.”

  He swept her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest.

  “Put me down!”

  She struggled, so he tightened his grip. “Nope. I’m carrying you. You’re too tired. Don’t want you to slip on the stairs.” He gave her his best ‘listen to the man’ look. She pouted, but stopped struggling. It was agony to hold her knowing he couldn’t do more, but the thought of not touching her at all was worse. He went through the doorway, past the bed, and kept on going into the en suite bathroom. He set her feet on the bathmat, made sure she was steady, then knelt to turn it off, leaving silence.

  “I put your new stuff on the bed along with one of my T-shirts and Amy’s old sweatpants. They’ll be a bit big, but they’re clean.”

  She blushed even deeper, dropping her eyes to the floor. She ran her hand over her head. “Ugh, my hair is greasy,” she said. “And I smell.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  “That’s what the bath’s for. And when you’re done, hop in that bed and have a good sleep.”

  “I’m supposed to work.”

  He couldn’t help the snort of laughter. She was barely able to stand.

  “Sweetie, you had a hell of a night. You worked the early shift at the Roadhouse and put a couple of good hours into that kitchen. You’re dead on your feet. I’m going to put together some cheese and crackers while you soak. I want you to eat everything on your plate and then sleep as long as you need. There’s a new toothbrush on the counter. If you want anything else, just ask, and I’ll be happy to provide.”

  He thought his smile was friendly, but her little hands turned into fists. She gave him her version of the evil eye. He barely held back a snort of laughter. He’d had horses glare at him with more evil than this fiery gal.

  “Why are you doing all this?” She waved her hand around the room.

  “You’re tired, hungry, and dirty. We don’t get many visitors, but I remember what Ma taught me about making guests comfortable.”

  “I’m not a guest. I’m the hired help.”

  “You’re a woman who’s had a hell of a time. I did what I figured my sister-in-law, Amy, would want.” Other than the kiss. That was all about Katie.

  “Oh.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Not everyone would do this.”

  “Why not?”

  “The people in my family don’t help others unless they’ll get something out of it.”

  “What a bunch of selfish…” He stopped himself from saying something very insulting. “That is way wrong. A family takes care of each other. They love one another, even if they can’t stand each other sometimes.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. He got the impression that was the only way she’d gotten hugs. He wanted to give her one, but didn’t think she was ready for it.

  “A child doesn’t know any different,” she murmured as if to herself. “They accept what’s around them as normal, and believe what they’re told. I’ve been away, traveling, for the last six months. I’ve realized I’m not incompetent, lazy, or stupid.”

  “What?” She winced at his bellow. He lowered his voice though he couldn’t stop his anger. “Why the hell would anyone say that about you?”

  “I’m the youngest, smallest, and least experienced in my extended family. Pretty much all my life, everyone could do things better and faster.” She gave a weak shrug. “I learned to think I wasn’t much good.”

  Trey bit his tongue on all the things he could say about her screwed-up family. Most of his female relatives were strong-minded and smart. Though many were submissive to their husbands, they were equals and didn’t put up with bullshit from anyone. His cousin Lila Frost had grown up with a huge chip on her shoulder about being female. Since meeting Jet and Houston she’d realized she could be a rough, tough rancher and still paint her toenails pink. Getting pregnant with twins, one from each husband according to their resident ghost, great-whatever-grannie Beth, was about as feminine as you could get.

  “Ranching is a tough business, for men and women,” said Trey. “We do everything we can by ourselves, but when we need help, it’s there before we can ask. Everyone has something to contribute. My niece, Emily, who’s three, helps Aunt Marci make cookies. Her five year old brother, James, brings in loads of kindling for their big black woodstove. Everyone helps in their way, and everyone benefits as they need. We support, rather than attacking each other.”

  Most of the time, he added silently. Brothers and cousins sometimes needed taking down a peg or two.

  “That’s the way things should be,” she replied quietly.

  “Hop into that bath before it gets cold. Don’t fall asleep, or you might drown.”

  She looked over. “It’s the biggest tub I’ve ever seen.”

  “In a town where most men grow over six feet and have muscle, we like our furniture big.” He pointed to the corner with the shower. “And because of our living arrangements, our showers have to hold three adults. With extra room for a bit of fun.”

  Her face pinked up again. He decided he’d better get out before he found himself kissing her again. Would he start at her head, her toes, or in the middle this time? “I’ll, ah, be in the barn with Sam. We’d appreciate if you made supper but don’t worry about it. If you sleep too long we’ll make do.”

  He pulled the door shut behind him. The distinctive click of a lock followed. He kept on going. He didn’t want to hear the unmistakable sounds of a gorgeous woman removing her clothes. He brought her snack, leaving it on the bed. Faint splashing made him shudder in need. He hurried to the barn, his pants six sizes too small.

  Fate had taken both his fathers in accidents far before their time. Fate had also directed Katie Winterbourne’s arrival in Climax right when she was needed. He looked up to the mountains.

  “If you’re watching, do whatever you can make this work. Katie’s made Sam come alive. I want him to take a few uncalculated risks and realize he can survive them. Maybe that will make him realize life is more than just getting by.” Trey was tempting fate, but wasn’t that what his life had been all about until recently? “If you can get Katie to invite us into her bed, it would be icing on the cake.”

  He was counting on his fathers knowing that he ate dessert first, and he started with the icing.

  Chapter Six

  It was mid-afternoon when Katie woke. She’d had the best sleep she could remember. Being clean, fed, and sleeping in a room with a lock did wonders. So did the erotic dream. She didn’t remember details, but she woke wet and horny. Though she was tempted to continue with her own hands, she got up. She straightened the bed, puzzling at its strange design. Many beds had metal bars but the series of fist-sized rings welded to the top of the headboard and footboard was unusual. They looked homemade, so perhaps someone had liked the design and made their own.

  She washed up, dressed, folding up the legs of the sweatpants a few times, and came downstairs ready to work. She found a note from Trey on the table saying they’d be back for dinner. Since she had the place to herself she took a tour. In addition to the huge kitchen, mudroom, and massive sunroom, there was an office on the main floor. She peered through a covered glass jar on the corner of the desk, finally deciding the gold-colored nuggets could not be real. No one would leave them sitting out like that.

  The second floor held Sam and Trey’s large bedrooms to the right, separated by a bathroom which had a large shower, but no tub. She only peeked in their rooms for an instant. They were fairly neat, with the beds made. Not that it took much to throw a comforter over the sheets. Their shared bathroom wasn’t clean to her standards, but at least she didn’t need a hazmat suit to enter.

  There were two doors on the left. One opened to an empty bedroom, again connected to a bath. The second door was painted a dark gray and had an ancient-looking padlock on it. She tapped, discovering the door was stee
l. Whatever was in there, it was not her business. She had enough to clean with the rest of the house.

  She went downstairs and got to work, singing along with Toby Keith as she peeled and chopped vegetables and meat for a stew. When she got to the chorus she belted out “How do you like me now?” at the top of her lungs. Her family had made fun of her all her life but she was now on her way, and would not be denied.

  She loved to sing, but Winterbournes did not make a spectacle of themselves by singing in public, other than hymns in church. Nor did they sing and dance barefoot, dressed in a too-big T-shirt and sweat pants, even in their own homes. Winterbournes didn’t do anything enjoyable, as far as she could tell. They also didn’t scrub cupboards, floors, cook, or do laundry. Katie enjoyed seeing how she’d made the dingy room sparkle. Just cleaning the windows had done wonders.

  The farmhouse needed more than a good scrubbing from top to bottom, though. It needed paint on every wall, especially the trim, and curtains on the kitchen windows. They’d been used to dry a man’s big hands too often so she’d pulled them down. The linoleum floor was badly worn in heavy-traffic areas. The stove had so many chips in the avocado enamel it looked like it was rotting. Rust crept over the harvest gold fridge, making it look like lichen on a rock. The motor, which ran too often, had a grinding noise that set her teeth aching. Yet, with a little TLC and a few replacements, the home could be very welcoming.

  The CD ended, leaving her with the loud rattle of the fridge and call of raucous crows through the open window. The slam of a truck door made her twitch. She’d had the music up so loud she hadn’t heard anyone arrive. She wiped off her hands before opening the door and stepping onto the porch. An older woman with black hair streaked with silver waved, smiling widely.

  “You must be Katie. I’m Marci MacDougal, from across the valley. I brought you some clothes.”

  Marci pulled a large black garbage bag out of the passenger seat. She heaved it over one shoulder as if she was Santa Claus. Katie moved to help, but Marci insisted she was fine. She dumped the bag on the kitchen table and straightened. They were eye to eye.