Lustful Intentions [Climax, Montana 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 1
Climax, Montana 5
Lustful Intentions
When Sam Elliott wakes the waif huddled in the Roadhouse doorway he's rocked onto his ass by a punch to the jaw. After living hand-to-mouth for six months, Katie Winterbourne will protect herself against any threat, including an arousing rancher twice her size.
Desperate for work, she accepts a job on the Rocking E ranch before discovering ultra-responsible Sam and his wild and sexy brother Trey, will be sleeping down the hall. An erotic ménage romance book gives her a few ideas and sleepless nights. Realizing this is her last chance for a wild fling before settling into corporate dormancy, Katie seduces Sam and Trey. They in turn up the ante by giving her a personal introduction to the joys of bondage and submission.
Katie loves the ranch and enjoys the people of Climax but has a contract to return to the stifling family corporation. Then a change of management destroys her plans…
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 90,645 words
LUSTFUL INTENTIONS
Climax, Montana 5
Reece Butler
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
LUSTFUL INTENTIONS
Copyright © 2015 by Reece Butler
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-768-8
First E-book Publication: January 2015
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Lustful Intentions by Reece Butler from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Reece Butler’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Reece Butler’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate this book to the woman who got an e-reader for her 90th birthday and discovered the Bride Train series. She has to buy prepaid cards for her books so that her daughters (in their sixties), don’t find out what she is reading.
Life would be wonderful to be wild and crazy, full of joy at ninety.
This is also for those who support authors and readers by purchasing books, posting reviews, and providing authors with what they need to get to The End. Thank you, Barbara.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
About the Author
LUSTFUL INTENTIONS
Climax, Montana 5
REECE BUTLER
Copyright © 2015
Chapter 1
Though the sun was barely up, Sam Elliott carefully looked both ways, twice, before backing his pickup into the angled slot by the Climax Roadhouse. He’d have a good breakfast then be off to the feed store, groceries, and back to the Rocking E. His Friday schedule had not changed in years, and he was fine with that.
He stepped out of the truck and stretched. His elbows were around his ears when something out of place caught his eye. He dropped his arms and squinted. There was a body slumped in the Roadhouse doorway. Red curls poked out of a stained jean jacket. Below it were equally dirty jeans and scuffed shoes. Considering the size of those feet, the boy couldn’t be more than twelve or a small fourteen.
A runaway? From where? Climax was in a valley between Dillon, fifty miles to the east, and Wisdom, even farther to the west. How had the kid gotten here? Whatever the reason, he’d chosen the right place. Tom White was a tough ex-soldier, but he had a good heart. Since Tom also had investigative resources better than an FBI regional office, he’d soon know a heck of a lot more about the kid than he did himself.
Sam walked over and crouched. The boy’s head drooped into his jacket. Just looking at him made Sam’s neck sore. He reached out to touch him on the shoulder. He heard a snarl before something slammed into his nose. The shock of pain and surprise knocked him on his ass. He scrambled to his feet, though not as fast as the kid. Tom opened the door and nabbed the kid before he could escape. Within seconds Tom had one arm wrapped over the kid’s chest and another around his hips. The kid still fought, silent, as Tom hauled him inside.
Sam got up slowly, taking his time so not to suggest he was angry. He brushed off his jeans and followed inside. Tom had his own version of self-defense, and though the kid seemed to know a bit, he had no chance.
“Give it up. I’m not going to hurt you,” said Tom quietly. “You’re safe here.
The guy you hit won’t return the punch. We don’t hit kids here, or women.”
The kid stopped resisting. Tom kept hold for a second to make his point before releasing him. The kid whipped around and crouched, eyes flicking all over. Tom blocked the back exit and Sam had the front. There was no way the kid would escape. Sam touched his nose then checked his palm for blood. He found none, but he glared anyway. The kid was barely five feet tall so of course Sam wouldn’t hit him back. He’d like to set him chopping a cord of wood to use up that anger, though. The kid was glaring at him as if it was Sam’s fault!
“I should call the sheriff to throw you in jail for assault,” said Sam, keeping his voice calm. He never got upset about anything. Emotions created chaos, which led to mistakes. Getting knocked on his ass while trying to help was pushing his limits, though.
“Me? You’re the one who attacked! And don’t call me kid.” He pulled his jacket over his front and crossed his arms.
The boy’s voice hadn’t broken yet. Sam downgraded the age. “Why not? What are you, twelve? Did you run away from home?”
The kid straightened up. Glaring Sam in the eye even though he had to look up to do so, he hauled his jacket off. Underneath was a tight T-shirt, either pink or a very faded red. Sam’s body surged in response before his mind clicked in.
Breasts.
He blinked, dropping his eyes. Thin ribs, a small waist and hips proved she was no boy. She must be frozen after spending the night outside. That would explain why her nipples stuck out like cherries on a man-sized bowl of ice cream.
“Ma’am,” he said with a nod, using good manners as an excuse to pull his hat off. He held it in front of him at belt level, covering his reaction. With that body, Tom had to have known her gender within seconds. Yet he hadn’t said a damn thing in warning! His eyes flicked up. She’d crossed her arms again, this time without the jacket. His cock jumped at the way her breasts looked, all plump and eager.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” the furious pixie said with a sneer, “but I’m twenty-four years old. And no, I did not run away from home.”
She turned, giving Sam a view of her heart-shaped ass. He looked away from the temptation but it did nothing to cool his blood. Her expression changed from spitting wildcat to that of a polite schoolgirl when she smiled at Tom.
“If you have a few hours of chores I could do in exchange for breakfast, I would appreciate it, sir.”
“And if not?” asked Tom, expressionless.
She slumped, but only for a second. “Then I will thank you for keeping me from this brute, and be on my way.”
“Brute? I didn’t even touch you!”
“That’s right, you didn’t,” she said with far too much satisfaction. She ran her eyes over him, smirking. “Aw, the big, tough cowboy got his boxers in a twist because the little woman got the drop on him?”
She pushed full lips out in a pout, taunting him. His pulse, which had been steady for years, shot through the roof. He gripped his hat even harder to stop from reaching for her. She needed to be taught a lesson, preferably by applying his palm to her ass. Her naked, about-to-turn-hot-pink ass.
God! What was he thinking? He gave himself a mental shake. And wasn’t that perfect? The first single woman to land in Climax in months, the first time his cock jumped to attention, and she was a nut job. She had to be single with that tough-gal attitude, as no self-respecting man would allow that behavior.
Her fists were clenched, her jaw set as she glared. He took a breath, slowly hauling it deep in his belly, and assessed the situation. Her fists and jaw were tight to stop them trembling. She was scared, and refusing to show it. She had guts, if not any sense. How the heck had she turned up here, overnight?
“Where’s your stuff, and where’re you going?” he demanded.
“That is none of your business.” She bared her teeth like a riled kitten.
“It’s mine, if you want breakfast,” said Tom, his tone matter-of-fact.
Tom got a look of respect, but then he was the one who might provide food. Sam didn’t want anything to do with her. She was trouble, pint-sized trouble with a great rack and a fine ass. She bent over to scratch her knee and he noticed a hole in her jeans right where her butt met her thigh. That tiny slice of white flesh made bells go off in his brain. They sent signals south, causing an even greater surge. He shifted his feet, unused to the painful reaction.
“I was on the bus to Oregon,” she said in a soft monotone. “It was crowded, so I had to shove over and share my seat with a chatty cowboy heading home after getting tossed in a rodeo. I was tired, the bus was warm, and I fell asleep.” She exhaled, staring at the floor. All trace of belligerence was gone. “The driver stopped to check tickets when we crossed into Montana, and woke me up. I discovered the cowboy was gone, along with my pack, my money, and my ticket home. He left a note saying he was sorry and that he’d pay me back some day.” She shuffled her feet, looking down. “Unfortunately, that’s not much help at the moment.”
Damn, no wonder she’d popped him one. What kind of lowlife would rip a woman off? That was easy. One who thought he would get away with it. She was small and cute. Asleep, she looked like a kid. He gritted his teeth, furious. How dare she put herself in such a position! Women shouldn’t…
He caught himself before completing the sentence. Women should be able to travel on a bus without being bothered, or anywhere else. He was not going to blame her for something done without her consent. It still left him with a problem needing solving. His cock would eventually shrink, taking care of that issue.
“Do you still have the note?” asked Tom gently.
She had to fight to wiggle her fingers into her tight back pocket. She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, ripped from a notebook. Tom put out his hand, so she placed it there. He glanced at it, nodded, and stuck it in his shirt pocket.
“How about ID?”
This time she stuffed her hand into her front jeans pocket. Again, she had to wiggle to get her fingers down. He told himself to look away but his eyes refused to obey. She pulled out a small folded piece of paper. She bent to smooth it on her thigh, revealing that slice of white once more. He cursed silently at the pain in his groin. She handed her ID to Tom, who checked it carefully, front and back, before returning it. She stuffed it in her back pocket, her fingers curving over her ass. His cock jerked again, refusing to submit to his control.
“Why’d you come here?” demanded Sam. “The closest bus stop is in Dillon, so why didn’t you stay there?”
She checked with Tom to see if she had to answer. At his nod, she spoke, but to Tom.
“I was tossed off the bus in Lima when my lack of a ticket was discovered. Another passenger, an old guy, was also getting off. He said he had a truck parked a block away and could take me to Dillon. The bus driver said Lima had no shelter but Dillon was a big town and I could get my folks to wire money in the morning. It was cold and windy and the middle of the night. I figured I had little choice, so accepted the ride.”
Her voice faltered at the end. A knot of worry formed in Sam’s gut. People didn’t turn up in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, unless there was a damn good reason. The sun had gotten higher and light flowed in through the open door. It showed a smudge on one of her pale cheeks. When she raised her chin, he saw there was one there, too. The bags under her eyes had bags of their own. No wonder she’d slept so deeply that someone stole her pack without her noticing.
“How’d you get here from Dillon? It’s fifty miles.”
“I didn’t get to Dillon. I thought that was obvious.” Her expression said Sam was a complete dolt, though her voice had a tremble in it. “I had no map so it meant nothing when we turned off the highway and then crossed those high passes without seeing a town.”
“Did he drop you here because this was the first town?”
She gritted her jaw, and her fists. It didn’t stop her hands shaking. His knot of worry tripled in size.
�
�He didn’t drop me here. I walked after I jumped out of his truck.” Her voice shook as well as her body.
“What did he do to you?” asked Tom quietly.
“Nothing.”
Tom gave her a look, one Sam had grown up fearing. Few could resist answering, and she wasn’t one of them. She swallowed, hard, and continued.
“It’s not that he didn’t try,” she said. “I escaped when he slowed down just after the second pass. When I asked why he was slowing he said it was time for me to pay for my ride. I didn’t have to see his leer to know what he wanted. I jumped out while the truck was still moving and ran. When he gave up looking and drove off, I started walking.”
The surge of intense rage caught Sam by surprise. He didn’t want to feel sorry for the petite, sexy-as-hell woman. He didn’t want to feel anything, but she pushed his buttons without even trying.
“Why did you come to Climax?” he demanded. His mother would tan his hide for behaving this way but he couldn’t stop himself. She gave him the same wide-eyed, falsely innocent look his younger brother had used on their parents when they were teenagers. He’d hated it on Trey, and didn’t like it now.
“Gee, maybe because this town is downhill from the whatever-thousand-foot pass we’d just gone through, and I’d seen no signs of life on the far side?”
“You’ve got a smart mouth, lady!”
“And a brain to match,” she shot back.
Tom chuckled, reminding him they weren’t alone. Sam quietly cursed. He rubbed a hand over his face, keeping his hat in place over his belt with the other. He never showed emotion, or felt it. He kept his life calm, scheduled, and safe. She was a stranger, here for a short time. All he had to do was eat breakfast, walk away, and forget her. The first two would be easy. The last one might take a while.