Having It All [Climax, Montana 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  “Oh, no.”

  Her car went over nose first and flipped, landing on its roof with a crash. It stuck there for a few minutes before more debris encouraged it to follow the pull of gravity. They didn’t have floods like this where she’d grown up. It had rained, but though it fell hard sometimes, they didn’t have mountains covered in snow.

  Now she understood the warnings about floods. A few inches of fast-flowing water could sweep a person off their feet. Once down, they could be hit by trees and knocked out. They then became a statistic for other fools who thought the warnings didn’t apply to them. She didn’t want anyone to become a statistic in her town.

  Especially if she was pregnant. She touched her lower belly. Marci no longer needed her, but she might have another reason to live, beyond herself. She might be carrying a miracle. Now she understood the women who demanded to know if they were pregnant, and why they got upset when she told them to wait a couple of months and just let things be.

  She wanted to know, right now, if she was carrying Eric’s child.

  She’d woken to the possibility that her period had come, and had told Eric. She’d rushed from the truck, not wanting to know his reaction. He wanted her to be with child, and to marry Matt because of it. Would he want her the same without a baby? A touch of spotting in the morning after a long weekend of vigorous sex did not rule out the possibility of pregnancy. Was she, or not? Only time would tell.

  Seeing how easily her life could have been swept away with the car made her shiver.

  “I’m alive, and I will survive,” she chanted. It had gotten her through other situations, and this was no different. “I’m also cold, wet, hungry, and lonely.”

  Eric had promised to take care of her. But he couldn’t do it if he didn’t know where she was, or that she was in danger. How could he know, when she hadn’t told him her plans?

  Nikki turned her back on the remains of her car and looked for a place to spend the night. No one would be looking for her. Brenda would have her head for not telling a friend exactly where she was going, or even leaving a note. She wasn’t used to thinking about telling others her plans. Being alone, with no one to depend on, limited the reasons for letting others know one’s whereabouts.

  She trekked across a fairly flat area. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the dark clouds suggested more was on the way. She had a window of opportunity to set up her bright orange survival tent, stake it down, and get inside. A stand of pines with broad-sweeping branches caught her eye. There might just be a few dry pinecones or sticks underneath. She could even set up her one-person tent under the branches for more protection.

  A deep, sudden roar erupted behind her. She dropped to the ground, sure it was a landslide or something. But instead a light blasted her. She shaded her eyes with her hand. A helicopter hovered above her. Likely the same one she’d heard crossing town earlier, heading up the valley. She got to her feet and waved, jumping up and down so she could be seen. It came lower, blasting her with a downdraft.

  A man, strapped to a rope or something, dropped from its belly. He dangled, spinning slightly as he was lowered. He wore a large pack on his back. As the man came lower she realized he looked familiar.

  “Eric?”

  It was him! He’d come to rescue her. Somehow he’d found out where she was, found a helicopter, and was going to take her home! She waved, jumping up and down and crying from relief. Matt had said Eric was nervous about airplanes, but he’d come here to get her! Surely that meant she could trust him to care for her.

  “Oh, Eric. I think I love you.” The words were torn away by the rotor blades.

  He landed on the top of the nearby rise. After dropping the pack he scrambled out of the harness and stepped away. She expected him to hold out the empty harness for her to take. She’d never tried anything so thrilling. She stepped forward, but stopped when the harness started going up. Her heart almost stopped, then thumped a staccato tattoo against her ribs.

  Oh, no. He wouldn’t…

  The helicopter rose. It dipped so steeply she thought the nose of it would catch the rock. Then it turned and roared back down the mountain. She slumped to the ground, uncaring that cold water seeped into her pants. Her hopes for a hot bath, good food, and a warm bed, had disappeared.

  The drizzle increased, matching her mood. Eric stumbled downhill toward her. Her tears of frustration and rage were obscured by the rain. She rolled to her feet as he came near.

  “Are you all right?”

  She slammed her fist into his shoulder. “How could you!”

  He blanched, taking a step back. His foot slipped and he went down on his cowboy ass. If she wasn’t so mad she would have laughed at his expression. The great Eric Frost, fallen on his ass in a puddle, stunned that he wasn’t received joyously.

  “What did I do?”

  “How could you leave me here?” she repeated, shrieking the words. “All I had to do was strap myself into that harness.” She pointed to where the helicopter had been. “A ten minute ride and I’d be back at the ranch, taking a hot shower. Instead I’m soaking wet, cold, hungry, and,” she took a deep breath, “furious!”

  “But…” A deep line appeared between his eyebrows. “Aren’t you glad I rode that death machine to rescue you?”

  “Death machine?” she repeated sarcastically. “I saw it as a rescue chariot. R-E-S-C-U-E, as in ‘taken off the mountain of danger and brought to a warm, dry, safe place.’ Not left with a man to spend the night in a tent!”

  She exhaled loudly when Eric didn’t reply. Deal with it, Nikki. You’ll survive. So will your cracked heart.

  “Please tell me there’s a waterproof tent in that giant pack you brought?”

  He growled and roared to his feet. “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, woman!” He pointed his thick finger at her. “You’re the idiot who drove a useless piece of tin up the mountain in a rainstorm, right across a streambed…”

  She stood up to his fury, ready to break that finger if he didn’t pull it back. But his face crumpled. He grabbed her and pulled her against his big, warm body. So tight she couldn’t breathe.

  “Oh, God, Nikki,” he said, near choking. “When I saw that shitty car of yours upside down in the water I thought you were dead. My heart almost burst, right there. I didn’t think anything could be worse than climbing into that death machine of Tom’s. But I forced down that fear, to save you. And then I saw what was left of your car, and thought I’d lost you forever…”

  She barely had time to inhale before his lips devoured hers. Hot, demanding kisses rained down. His tongue thrust into her mouth as if claiming her again. She was just getting into it when he shoved her to arm’s length and glared at her with more fury that she’d thought possible.

  “Nikki Meshevski, I am going to spank you so hard for this stunt that you are never, ever going to sit down again.”

  She held herself stiff. If Eric was ever going to hit her, as in meaning harm, it would be now. She’d seen the result of a man’s brutal fists. But the ridges of rage in his forehead smoothed out. Chapped lips covered his bared teeth. He gave her a gentle shake.

  “Baby girl, don’t you ever, ever, do something to scare me like that again.” He pulled her against him as if she was spun sugar. His breath shuddered.

  “Oh, god, Nikki, I can’t live without—” The skies opened up, drowning his tender words. “We’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” he shouted.

  She pointed to the big pine she’d picked out as a possible shelter. He looked, nodded, then turned her. A swat on her rear started her journey. She grabbed her pack on the way. By the time she’d picked her way between the rocks, Eric’s long strides had brought him to the same spot. Now that they were under partial cover, the deluge had stopped, of course.

  She stood aside, letting him take over. The numbness which had protected her from panicking, began to fade. She’d been furious that he hadn’t immediately removed her from danger, but maybe there was a reas
on. She knew nothing about helicopters other than not to walk under the spinning blades.

  Maybe it could only carry two people in this wind, especially if one of them was as heavy as Eric. She was no lightweight either. The two of them, and their gear, might weigh as much as five hundred pounds. Eric could have put her on the copter and spent the night out on the mountain alone. But then she would have felt terribly guilty. Warm and dry, but guilty.

  He worked quickly and efficiently, as always. A thought struck, making her smile. No one knew of her silly childhood dreams, not even Marci. By the time she was ten she knew no handsome prince would ever ride up on a white horse, rescuing her from a life of hunger and scarcity. When she overheard other girls swooning over movie stars, imagining themselves being rescued, she’d quietly snorted at their stupidity. A real woman rescued herself.

  “Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good,” she reminded herself. “Luckily, this is not difficult.”

  At eighteen she’d agreed with the words of Charlotte Whitton, the first mayor of a major Canadian city. Nikki had not been impressed by any males at that point. Her father’s abandonment was followed by cruel attacks by boys who didn’t like a girl to be smarter. Worse were the physical attacks by men who didn’t like her turning them down. Her size, voice, and strong right fist had saved her virtue. As a result she’d written off ninety-seven percent of the male species as not worth her time or effort.

  Then at thirty-six she’d moved to Montana. There she’d discovered a large proportion of men who did not suit Ms. Whitton’s words. Eric and Matt were two of them. They valued her education, her intelligence, and her profession. They also valued her as a woman. Not just for sex, though that was absolutely stupendous.

  She knew Matt loved her. He showed it by the twinkle in his eyes, the way his fingers brushed over her whenever he passed, and the timbre of his voice. He was constantly doing little things to make her smile. The other day she’d looked for a pen and discovered a note tucked in the outer pocket of her pocketbook. She had no clue how long it had been there. Just a simple pencil drawing of a daisy with his name beneath, but it warmed her heart. Matt had put it there without expectation of thanks, or that she’d even see it. He did it because it made him happy to brighten her day.

  She’d cried when she found it. Brenda found her blubbering in her office, and had given her a hug. More, she’d agreed that such a note meant more than a bouquet of roses which cost nothing but money. Many men gave roses to pacify their wives, said Brenda. Few thought of what their woman really wanted.

  Eric would never give her a love note. He let his actions speak for themselves. He was, as he said, like a grizzly bear. He didn’t try to hide who he was, or his intentions. If he was angry, or lusty, everyone knew it.

  He made her feel dainty and feminine, while still appreciating her strength. When he called her his baby girl and hauled her into his lap for a sweet cuddle, she felt protected and safe. An hour later he might have her bent over the bed, restrained with soft leather cuffs and harsh metal chain, as he pounded into her eager pussy. A few hours after that, they could be discussing politics, or scientific theories, or how to increase the productivity of an old man’s sawmill.

  Eric wanted her body and her mind. Matt wanted whatever she could give him.

  “Get naked. Now.”

  The harsh words yanked her out of her musings. Eric had not only put up a large tent, he’d made a small fire just downhill of the door. He’d set up a shiny metal screen so it curved behind and over the fire, directing the heat toward the tent.

  “I didn’t think you could make a fire in the rain.” She held out her hands. The warmth made her realize how chilled she was. He took her hands in his. “Oh, you’re so warm.”

  “I gave you an order, Nikki.”

  His low-pitched growl, combined with that icy stare, started a fire in her belly. This was the barbarian caveman who sometimes came out at night and rocked her world.

  “Are you going to follow my order, or do you need a reminder?”

  That tone of voice sent a shiver of lightning between her pussy and breasts. Both swelled, aching for his touch. Did she want to disobey, and face the delicious consequences of a commanding, aroused, protective male? Oh, yes!

  She couldn’t run without twisting her ankle on the rocks or slipping and getting bruised, so that was out. But she could refuse to obey. Not outright rebellion, as that would cause a swift reaction. No, she could slowly conform, teasing him by taking her time to reveal what he wanted to see.

  “Out here?” she asked, looking at the pine needles under their feet.

  “No,” he replied, tightlipped. “In the tent.”

  After taking off her coat under the canopy, she bent to remove her boots. She tried not to bed her knees while pointing her bottom at Eric. His muttered curse had her biting her lip in triumph. She stepped onto the waterproof mat, leaving her boots. Keeping her back to him, she tried to unzip her jeans. Her chilled fingers didn’t want to work. She turned around.

  “I can’t get the button undone,” she said, and lifted her shirt to expose her belly.

  Another curse erupted, then he knelt to work on her jeans. He got them unzipped, but didn’t stop there. He yanked them down her thighs. Her crocus-yellow panties came down as well. That left him nose-to-pussy. He inhaled, eyes closed. He grasped her back cheeks in his hot hands and laid his forehead on her skin.

  Cold, wet hair touched her warm belly, making her gasp. His dark, straggly hair looked so stark against her white skin. He inhaled, and then groaned. He nuzzled her, his nose rubbing her clit, and it was her turn to groan. He looked up at her then. His stark need had her dropping her hands to caress his head.

  “I don’t know whether to spank your ass for scaring the hell out of me, or strip you naked and pound my cock so far into your pussy that I hit bottom.”

  He rested his head against her again, as if praying. She didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Didn’t even think. When he looked up again, she saw determination, and maybe a touch of fear.

  “I want to hold you, Nikki. All night, in my arms. Just hold you. Maybe then I’ll believe that you’re really here.”

  Chapter Forty

  “I don’t give a damn if it’s too dangerous!” roared Matt. “Either take me to Nikki or I’ll take the damn thing up myself!”

  He clenched his fists to keep himself from slugging the helicopter pilot. Eric’s good buddy looked carved in cold stone.

  “She was fine when I dropped your brother off. Let it go.”

  “Let it—?”

  “No.”

  Matt violently shook his head, but didn’t attack. He’d seen what Tom had done to Eric. If he lashed out he might end up trussed like a chicken and in no shape to go after Nikki.

  “Listen, buddy,” he growled. The airman crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the wall as if bored. “I let you take Eric up there first because I had to make some calls to people so they wouldn’t send out a search party. That’s done, and I need to hold my woman to know she’s safe.”

  A thin knife appeared in Tom’s hand. He used it to clean under a fingernail. Matt snorted a laugh.

  “If you’re doing that to try to scare me, don’t bother. I’ve got a friend who carries at least half a dozen of those all the time. Lance’s knives are so sharp he can split a hair.”

  “How’s his aim?”

  “Why? You think you can best him?”

  “Not many can,” replied Tom with easy confidence. “You willing to put your ranch on the line? If something happens to this bird, I won’t be the one on the hock to replace it.”

  “This ranch means nothing unless Nikki’s here with me.”

  “You’d give it up to save her life?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Fair enough.” Tom put the knife away and straightened. “Nobody gives a damn if I die. Might as well do what I can to help you marry the woman. I’ll hold y
ou to the promise of naming a boy after me.” He grimaced. “Maybe someone will think kindly of me when I’m gone.”

  “You’ll do it?”

  Tom scowled. “I said I would, didn’t I? I don’t make many promises, but I keep the ones I do. Get your stuff.”

  Matt tucked his hands under his armpits after getting strapped in. There were more dials and switches in that Army helicopter than in the civilian version. He did not want to accidentally bump something and make Tom abort the mission.

  “You really think you’re going to die alone?”

  Tom continued his pre-flight inspection. When he was done he met Matt’s eyes. He looked haunted.

  “I just accepted the closest thing to a suicide mission. If I survive the next two years, maybe I’ll find myself a woman and settle down.”

  “You don’t seem to be the type of man who’d settle.”

  “For the right woman, a man will do anything. Now shut up so I can get rid of you before the storm starts up again.”

  The roar of the engines cut off any further communication. The rain held off while they swooped up the mountain. He couldn’t see a damn thing except what the spotlight lit up. And what he did see was not good. They followed a raging torrent, what once was a road, to a fairly flat spot. Tom pointed. Matt saw the glow of a tent before the copter’s spotlight found it. Tom held the copter steady as Matt descended. As soon as he was loose, the bird whipped up, turned half upside-down, and was gone.

  Matt turned on his flashlight and quickly, but safely, hurried to the tent. Slipping and breaking a leg, or even twisting an ankle, would be a stupid move. Eric’s face peered out. He scowled, using his forearm to block the beam. Matt shone the flashlight on his own face so Eric would know who was there.

  “Matt? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “She’s my woman, too. And I’m going to prove it.”

  “Matt’s here?” Nikki stuck her head out beside Eric. She beamed. “You are!”

  Oh, God, she looked good. Her hair was messed, her lips swollen with his brother’s kisses, but she was alive, and that was good enough for him. His frantic worry morphed into a need to prove that she was his, that they were alive.