by Reece Butler
Eric nodded at his grinning younger brother. Matt’s last two words, said with easy simplicity, summed up the situation as far as Matt was concerned. At thirty-six, Matt had found the woman he wanted to marry. Decision made, he wanted action. After days of nonstop travel from Peru, Eric struggled to think what that meant.
“Say that again?”
With two six-foot-plus men, a bed, battered side tables, and dresser, there wasn’t much space in the motel room. Matt’s long-suffering sigh easily filled it.
“I want you to take care of Nikki while I’m at the cattle auction,” said Matt slowly and distinctly. “I won’t marry her if you two don’t get along.”
“Take care of her?” Eric frowned. “Is she hurt?”
“No, she’s not hurt, she’s fine. Better than fine. I want you to take her for a test ride.”
“A test ride.”
“You know, to see if she bucks you off, or accepts the reins.” Matt’s eyes unfocused. A sappy smile curled up his lips. “She wore this blue dress that hugged her curves. A long strand of pink pearls dropped between her breasts. I wanted to follow that necklace with my tongue, all the way down.”
After sixty-plus hours of travel, Eric’s brain was operating on only two cylinders. His spark plugs had no spark, and his battery was drained. He picked out the salient facts. Matt had found The Woman. He wanted Eric’s approval. A “test ride” meant—sex! The engine below his belt shifted from neutral into first gear.
“You want me to haul her into bed and make her purr like a kitten?”
“That’s what I said,” replied Matt with false patience. “But Nikki’s a wildcat, not a kitten.” His grin lit up his eyes. “She keeps her nails short for work, but I bet she scratches your back.” He leered. “Maybe she bites.”
After Eric spent frustrating years trying to find a woman to suit him, his little brother had found one, right here in Climax? He scratched both sets of fingernails through his hair, hoping it would wake a few brain cells. His cock was awake, though. For the first time in months it was alert and eager to get the job done.
“You want me to tame her?”
“Heck, no! I like her fire.” Matt stared at the wall, obviously seeing something far different than fly-speckled paint. “We’ll ease her into enjoying us, starting with you.”
“Pearls, huh?”
Yeah, he could see curling a long string of pearls around a woman’s generous breasts. Even better would be running them back and forth between her pussy lips, rubbing against her clit, making her hot and horny. Or using them to tie her wrists behind her back. She’d be on her knees, taking Matt into her mouth, while he knelt behind her and—
His cock saluted the idea, straining against his pants.
“What’s she think about sharing us?” he demanded.
Matt gave a one-shoulder shrug. He stuck his thumbs in his front pockets and stared at his boots, rocking slightly. That usually meant Eric would not be happy with his answer.
“Did you tell her about what I like, or the way we do things in the valley?”
Another shrug. Eric gave a silent groan. He took it as a definite “no.”
His little brother was as stubborn as the rest of the Tanner’s Ford Valley males. Matt wouldn’t budge once he made a decision. Once he climbed on, he dug in his size-twelve boot heels and rode until the bell rang. Eight seconds on a bull or fifty years with the same woman, was the same thing to him. Make a decision, get job the done, and move on.
Eric wore size-thirteen boots and, though he’d specialized in steer wrestling due to his size, he’d ridden his fair share of bulls and broncs. Matt was a charmer, but Eric didn’t have the ability, or desire, to flirt and cajole women. He only took what was offered, but once the decision was made, he took over.
Matt seduced, while Eric commanded obedience. Since few women were big enough for him, and they hadn’t wanted the demanding sex he enjoyed, Matt had bedded a whole lot more buckle bunnies than Eric. But that all ended years ago when Matt took over the ranch and Eric…left.
“Have you even spoken with her?”
“Course I have.” When Eric just waited, Matt rocked back again, cleared his throat, and elaborated. “I asked her to dance after the bride and grooms left.”
Eric tilted his head, demanding more. All he got was another half shrug.
“That’s it? You waited until the wedding party was almost over, then had one dance?”
“That’s all I needed.” Matt’s eyes unfocussed again. “When I put my arms around her, I knew Nikki was the one. We had us a long, slow song by George Strait. I pulled her in snug, chest to breast.” He gave Eric an eager grin. “Did I tell you how big her rack is? Mother of God! And when I held her she made this little sound in the back of her throat. My cock jumped. She must’ve known it, too, as she put her arms around my neck and held on tight. We moved just enough to rub against each other. Bein’ so tall, she rubbed me in all the right places.” He nodded decisively. “She wants me, sure as shootin’.”
Matt’s slow grin made alarm bells go off in the back corners of Eric’s brain. Matt didn’t go off the rails often, but when he did, the end result was hellacious. And every time, that grin was the start of it.
“A dance is only five minutes,” said Eric. “Marriage is forever. Does she know you want her to be your wife and live on the Circle C? That we want a bunch of kids? That she’ll share her bed with both of us when I’m in town?” He took a breath. “That I want a woman who likes it hard and heavy, and will obey?”
“You’re the one with the big words. It’s your job to tell her all that while I’m at the auction.”
Eric sputtered for a moment before he could connect his brain and his mouth.
“I’m to seduce a woman I’ve never met and you’ve barely talked to, convince her to let you join us in bed, and that she will be happy ever after if she marries you. All in less than a week?”
“You got it!”
Matt’s eager puppy smile blew Eric away. He hadn’t seen it in far too many years. Matt used to follow him around, copying everything he did. There were only the two of them on the Circle C, and they’d been thick as thieves. Eric was five, practicing mutton busting by riding sheep, when three-year-old Matt decided to do the same. They never did tell their parents where the bruises came from, but Matt proved to Eric he was a big boy who didn’t give up. In some ways, Matt was still trying to prove it to himself. Was that why he wanted Eric to entice this woman into their bed?
As the oldest, Eric was expected to take over the ranch. It still rankled that his parents couldn’t accept how badly he had to escape. When Matt, the natural-born cowboy, agreed to take his place, he’d freed him from that burden. Eric travelled the world, working anywhere he wanted, knowing he had a home to come back to. He never stayed too long, as the memories and weight of their disappointment crushed him, but he always knew he could return.
And for that, he’d do anything to make his little brother happy. He had time to seduce a tall, sexy woman. He certainly had the inclination. Once she was in his bed he’d convince her Matt was a damn good man and would make an excellent husband and father. Just as long as she understood he wouldn’t be providing any of the “happy ever afters.” He would not be tied to the Circle C, Tanner’s Ford Valley, or the town of Climax. No way, no how.
Decision made, Eric rolled out his stiff shoulders. Economy seats were not designed for men his size. Thank God the short guy on the aisle took pity and switched seats. That kept him from having his knees jamming his nostrils from Lima to Miami. Having direct access to an escape kept him as safe as possible, though he white-knuckled it the entire flight. He didn’t like takeoff and landing. Or flying over water, hills, mountains, or flat land. That pretty much covered any situation. But he had a couple of weeks before he needed to head back to work in one of the infernal death machines.
“Nikki’s interested in us,” said Matt, breaking in on Eric’s shiver of unease. “Brenda showed her t
hat picture of us in the diner, back when we won those buckles. She said Nikki took a close look at it, then asked about us.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “The lady’s never had a proper boyfriend. She’s six foot tall, and those city boys can’t handle a real woman.”
“That big?”
“Told you that we fit.” He gave a sharp nod. “Brenda said Nikki spent all her time studying and working. Her ma had two kids, no husband, and no education. Nikki wasn’t gonna get caught the same. You know what that means?”
“Sorry, bud. My brain was fried ten hours ago. Spell it out for me.”
Matt leaned forward as if imparting a great secret. “She’s a filly, not a mare.”
“Matt,” said Eric, letting his exhaustion show in his voice. “I’m an engineer, not a rancher. Say it in words I’ll understand.”
“The lady doesn’t have much experience with a man,” explained Matt slowly, as if Eric was a four-year-old getting his first lesson in driving a tractor. “She’s not shy, but she’ll need a soft touch to get her goin’. You know, to ease her into the saddle so we can ride her.”
Matt looked at his callused hands. A typical rancher, nicks and scratches, scabs and scars, decorated his skin. He rarely left the ranch, which meant he’d find it hard to find a randy woman to share a night with. Eric had a few women in Dallas who liked no-strings sex, but he’d not called any of them in…He thought back. Had it really been over a year? No wonder his cock swelled at the possibility of action.
“You’d best give her a few orgasms before saying much,” added Matt.
He could do orgasms. Lots of them. He’d even find time for one or two of his own. But even the thought of hot sex with a woman his size couldn’t get his brain excited. He wished he had a tenth of Matt’s energy. With the rumors of a hostile takeover after the company founders were killed in a small airplane crash, he’d worked weeks of long hours to finish the job.
That was followed by three days of travel, much of it with fingers clenched as he waited for the airplane to fall out of the sky. But that was his other life. He had three weeks before he had to climb into one of those death traps again. And in that time, he had an important job to do for his brother. A tough job, but one he could handle. Oh yeah, he could find time to handle a woman, no problem.
“What’s this Nikki look like, other than tall?”
“Big. As in boobs, ass, thighs, and mouth,” replied Matt, a sappy look on his face. “Her voice is deep and sexy. Her legs are so long I bet she can wrap them around me, lock her ankles, and pull me in.”
The image of a woman doing just that made Eric realize he wasn’t as tired as he thought he’d been.
“If you want her so bad, why leave her for me?”
Matt went back to rocking. “She works in the clinic. You know I won’t go there ’less I’m half dead.”
Eric ran one hand over his face to give him a moment to regroup. Most of the local men were the same. Injuries and pain were a part of life. Cowboys don’t complain, they push through and get the job done. Saying you hurt, unless there were major broken bones, or slashed arteries, was like admitting you still wet your bed. No boy over the age of five would show pain in public. A man could enjoy being comforted by his woman in private, but that was a whole ’nother thang.
Matt must have fallen for the receptionist or clerk. Or maybe an accountant if she had all that studying. Any of them would be good jobs for a rancher’s wife. She’d have a steady paycheck to keep them going when the harvest was bad. Maybe they’d get basic medical protection as well.
Eric hauled his brain back to the here and now. He’d been this exhausted before, but not often. And, like all those other times, he dug even deeper and cowboy’d up. Matt might be the rancher and Eric the engineer, but nothing could take the Montana cowboy grit out of either of them. Matt needed him, and his little brother rarely asked for help. Eric would do whatever was necessary to make sure Matt got this woman to the altar. Even if he had to hog-tie her first.
Make that especially if he got to hog-tie her. Even better, tie her spread-eagled on their giant bed, blindfolded. Put a couple of thick pillows under her ass so her pussy was right there for him. Or maybe he’d cuff her ankles to a spreader bar, bend her over the back of his couch, and take her from behind. His cock rose at the challenge, pressing hard against his zipper. Thank God, it still works.
“Looks like you’re up for the job,” said Matt with a chuckle. “No pussy in South America?”
“Not unless you want women who come up to here.” Eric put his palm at the level of his ribs.
“That’s no problem with this gal. That gorgeous rack of hers rubbed against my shirt, and her cheeks filled my hands.” He held out his cupped hands and squeezed as if he pressed warm female flesh tight against his groin. “Before I let her go I gave her a quick squeeze.” He looked at the hand that had done the deed. “Might have done more if I’d had time.”
“She that good?”
“Wait until you see her,” replied Matt. “I bet you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
Chapter Three
Eric sniffed his right armpit, then grimaced. He smelled like a dead capybara after three days in the jungle. He leaned forward, grabbed the back of his shirt with both hands, and yanked. He balled up the sweat-stained cotton and lobbed it at the trash can. Two points.
He was filthy, hungry, exhausted, and had no clean clothes. The airline thought his bags could have gone to Malibu, Moscow, or Montreal. It sure wasn’t Missoula. They said they’d deliver them when they were found. If they were found was more like it.
He’d borrow a shirt and pair of socks from Matt. He’d learned to go without undershorts in tropical heat and humidity. It was different here, especially if he had a woman to seduce. He needed something to protect his cock so he didn’t get zipper marks embedded into it. He also needed food, a shower, and twelve hours of shut-eye. Or maybe twenty.
“Best not tell her about the marriage thing,” said Matt, interrupting his wide yawn. “Brenda says Nikki doesn’t want a husband, but I want you to show her different. Everyone knows you don’t want to live here, so she’ll cozy up to you. You show her what she’s been missing, then I’ll show her why she doesn’t want to lose it. Between us, we’ll change her mind.”
“Why don’t you seduce her yourself? You’re a successful rancher. The ladies like you. Hell, you’ve flirted with more females than you can shake a stick at.”
Matt shook his head in denial. “Buckle bunnies only liked me when I was winning rodeos. Then they dropped me faster than a fat tick off a dog.” He looked at his boots. “I’m just a red-necked rancher from a small town in Nowhere, Montana. Nikki’s got an education. She won’t want me unless you sweet-talk her into it.”
An education was a good thing in a wife. A wicked body didn’t last, but a woman he could talk intelligently with between and after screaming orgasms was the stuff of dreams. To him, education was a bonus. Matt, having struggled to complete his agriculture diploma, avoided educated women like the plague.
“She an accountant?”
“Nuh-uh.” Matt shook his head. He started pacing like a caged animal, squeezing his hands into fists and shooting them out again.
Eric felt the same. After too many months away, he needed to be on a horse, riding the Circle C in the fresh spring air. Needed the scent of snow in the wind off the mountains, with new grass and the promise of summer. Needed to look and not see anything for miles but sagebrush, antelope, and the mountains encasing the Tanner’s Ford Valley. It was nowhere near as spectacular as the Cordillera Blanca, part of the Peruvian Andes, but they were home.
He hadn’t told his bosses because of the recent takeover, but he wanted out. He was done with leeches, poison frogs, tarantulas, and pythons as big around as his thigh. What he wouldn’t say to anyone was that the dark jungle spooked him. He wanted to see his enemies before they found him. He’d grown up in wide open spaces with a blue sky that went on forev
er. The jungle’s green walls felt like a prison. He’d pushed through to get this job done. But the last few months he’d been twitchy, thinking there were people with guns and poison-tipped spears just out of sight.
A few weeks ago he’d stripped in a sudden rain to let it wash him clean. A new man, one of the locals, had said something and pointed to Eric’s crotch. He thought the guy was making the usual comment about his size. “Big man, big feet, big cock,” he usually said.
But it wasn’t his cock the man pointed at. It was a big, fat, leech damn near as long as his finger. Not on his balls, thank God, but hanging high up his thigh. He hadn’t screamed like a girl, but it took a lot not to. He’d held out his hand for a lighter, flicked it and, protecting the important parts with a cupped hand, held the flame close enough to make the thing release. When it fell with a wet plop, he’d damn near fainted with relief.
He was either in the wet jungle of the lowlands, or in the high, dry stony plateaus. One was hot, humid, and full of critters. The other was cold, dry, and starved his lungs of oxygen. Instead of the adventure it had been for many years, working there was now a pain in the ass. Add the guerillas and the drug trade, and he wanted out.
No doubt about it, he was getting old and tired. Another two years and he’d be forty. Fieldwork was for the young. He was mature enough to want some comfort in his life. Comfort like an eager woman, blindfolded and tied to the bed, begging for him to let her come.
But that was for tomorrow, when he got back to Climax. Tonight was his chance to get as much intel from Matt as possible. The more he knew about Nikki, the easier it would be to show her that he was a man she’d want to heat up the sheets with. Especially if she was as inexperienced as Matt suggested.
“You going to tell me about her, or wear out the carpet?”
Matt stopped pacing, and looked down. Too many years of what stuck to cowboy boots had turned the carpet a disgusting color. It was thin and worn, but the owners kept the beds and bathroom clean and the price low.
