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The Climax Montana Complete Collection

Page 18

by Reece Butler


  Falling in love?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marci half swallowed, tried to breathe, and ended up choking. She rolled forward, coughing, unable to hear what else Simon said.

  An hour ago she’d told him almost everything, even how she’d killed Ted to save herself. No one but Nikki knew that. Even her sister didn’t know how scared she was of going to prison. That was why she hated elevators and wouldn’t close the bathroom door. Yet she’d told Simon about her fear. What was it about him that made her trust him with such a secret? She never told Ted anything about herself. Not that he was interested, but deep inside, she didn’t trust him.

  Realizing that was a relief. It meant she wasn’t a bad judge of character after all. Which meant that wanting Simon after only a few days, was not necessarily wrong. It wasn’t rebound love. It couldn’t be when she’d never loved Ted.

  But the man who made her heart race, who she trusted to fall asleep on and tell secrets to, had just told the person closest to him that he loved her. She couldn’t marry Simon, not that he’d asked. She would never let such a good man be legally tied to her. Not with the potential of a lurid trial and years spent in prison looming over her head.

  She listened to them banter, two brothers who loved each other yet used insults as praise. She got up from the bed and walked to the door. Simon sat with his back to her, his cast resting on a chair. At least he’d listened to her and put his foot up. His head bent forward on his chest. He held the phone to his right ear as he listened intently.

  “I have to tell her, but I don’t know how she’ll take it.” He ran his free hand through his red curls. “No, it’s not like that. She’s had some bad stuff happen and just told me about it.” Simon listened for a moment. “No! Nothing like that. Her goddamn husband slashed her face with a knife because she fought back when he tried to burn their house down with her in it.”

  The statement, though horrid, was true. Simon winced and moved the phone away from his ear. Lance yelled so loud Marci could hear the muffled shout. What was it Simon needed to tell her, but didn’t know how she’d react? She knew Lance had darker skin, but so did she. And none of it made a bit of difference. Their mother was a nasty piece of work, and their father hadn’t stood up for his children. What else could be so bad?

  “Calm down, man, she’s fine, except for having nightmares. I heard her moaning something about being locked up and being burned alive. I climbed in beside her and told her I was there to protect her. She calmed right down and went back to sleep.”

  She’d had another nightmare, one that Simon had eased? She usually woke up screaming, either from agony as she was burned alive, or from the terror of being locked in a cell with no escape as flames roared toward her. Just thinking about it made her shake. Then Simon’s calm voice flowed over her.

  “The way she feels about the bastard, I’ll never have a reason to be jealous of her ex,” said Simon. “And your ravens like her.” Another pause. “Yeah, she wants kids.” The tone of his voice softened. He relaxed back in the chair. “You should’ve seen her with Aggie’s brood. She had the three older ones over Saturday night, for the six-week night after Sophie’s birth. Marci was telling knock-knock jokes that had Riley holding his belly laughing. Even Florrie got the giggles.”

  It had been fun. The Adams children reminded her of the best reasons why she wanted some of her own. She loved how much interest they showed in the world around them. Their laughter, even the way they tried to manipulate the people in their lives, fascinated her.

  “What if she doesn’t want to be a ranch wife in a dinky little backwater Montana town? She’s used to the city. I bet she had a fancy house, expensive clothes, and lots of fussy friends. You know how Aggie was until she realized the whole town wanted her to stay. People mind each other’s business in a small town. That shows they care. City folk don’t understand that. They want to keep inside their little world where no one sees what’s going on or does something about it. I don’t want a wife like that.”

  Marci almost stomped over and punched Simon in the shoulder. She’d had the wealthy country-club life and was sick of it. Many of the people Ted wanted her to befriend were selfish, jealous, and bitter. Trophy wives had to look perfect or their husband would trade them in for a newer model. Younger women, married or not, were potential successors to be kept in their place. She’d tried not to take it personally. All they had were looks, and it was a commodity that diminished each day.

  That was why Ted slashed her face. In his mind a scarred woman was flawed, and, therefore, no one would value her. He certainly didn’t. Simon, on the other hand, said he loved her. But he was forty years old. He could just be desperate for any woman who’d live with him.

  Simon lowered his voice. “Oh, man, wait ’til you see her. That ass alone will take you to paradise. She smells of vanilla and chocolate when she’s baking and God! she tastes good. When she comes in my mouth!” He shuddered, then shifted on the hard chair. “That aside, Marci’s good people. You’ll see.”

  Simon liked her big behind? She pushed away what he said about tasting her. That just brought hot memories and made her want more. She’d swallowed him deep and had him erupt on her tongue. She’d only tasted the one man, but had enjoyed it immensely. Simon listened for a moment, then barked a laugh.

  “Yeah, as soon as I can. Too bad, brother. You’ll just have to use your right hand while you think of how I’m taking care of our woman. And how she’s taking care of me.”

  Their woman? I don’t think so!

  Lance made such loud noise that Simon held the phone from his ear. He was laughing because Lance was obviously not happy.

  “So, you’ll be home soon?” He shook his head as if Lance could see. “Nah, she’s nothing like Mom. Her skin’s like coffee with lots of cream. Beautiful. But wait’ll you use that Bannock touch on her. Then you’ll see why I want her to marry us.”

  She slapped her hand over her mouth to hold back her gasp. He’d said love, and that she was “their woman,” but going from don’t-shove-this-woman-at-me to love and marriage in three days? That wasn’t to be believed. He wanted her for a reason, and she suspected it had something to do with what Simon hadn’t yet told her.

  They needed her for some reason and would marry her to keep her around. But she didn’t need Simon, or Lance. She would not marry anyone with the potential of a manslaughter conviction hanging over her head. She did not make promises lightly. She was not her father. Any vow she gave was forever. Therefore, she would make darn sure it was one she could live with for the rest of her life.

  If the police and insurance people said they had nothing on her, and if Ted’s insurance money came through, she would be set. The money wouldn’t allow her to buy a ranch outright. But if she married into the ranch she could pay off some of their bills and put a good dent into the ranch’s Must Do list. Simon and Lance knew nothing about the potential of money. So what did they want from her?

  “Got a question. What’ll we do if she only wants one or two kids?” Simon paused. “Yah, you know I want daughters just as much as you. But what if the Spirits say we’ll have six of them before we get the boy, and Marci says she’s had enough after five?”

  Simon believed in spirits? It would make sense if he’d spent time with his Bannock relatives. Living close to the land for generations would also bring a different viewpoint than a city person. There’d be no drive-by shootings, but stampeding cattle, snowstorms, floods, or rattlesnakes could easily kill.

  Here, nature provided, and nature took away. Having a number of children to carry on the ranch made sense. That suited her. Even when she was a little girl, she’d wanted lots of children. She was often lonely, and Nikki had her head in a book most of the time. She wanted to make sure her children would never be lonely. When Ted told her children were impossible, she’d cried for a week. Not where he could see, of course. He would have enjoyed her pain too much.

  Aggie had four children, and wasn’t
upset at the thought of having more. Ginny was pregnant with twin boys, Anne had her precious daughter, Marsha, and Brenda had a few of her own as well. While Brenda worked long hours, the others were home full time. And every one of them was happy in their choice.

  She’d grown up in a tiny trailer with a mother who was desperate to be with her daughters but had to spend too many hours working just to meet the basic necessities. Marci had vowed to do everything possible to stay home with her children and be a homemaker. Not a wife taking care of a house, as she’d been for Ted. No, she wanted to be a woman who made a house into a home, filling it with her heart, products of her hands, lots of laughter, and a few tears.

  If she’d had a couple of children with Ted, she would have put all her love into them and ignored her husband. But he’d made sure it would never happen. It sounded like Simon and Lance would welcome as many children as she could produce. But this time around she was going to make sure that she chose the right husband. She blinked. A giggle rose up. Husbands.

  Simon snarled a curse, grabbing her attention.

  “Of course I’ll tell Marci before asking her to marry me. But that damn contract was written back in eighteen-sixty-something by a miserable bastard!” He grabbed at his hair, yanking it in obvious frustration. “If we don’t have a son, we lose everything. And I don’t want some son of a bitch from Texas taking over our ranch!”

  Marci blanched. So that was the big secret. They needed a wife to produce a son. No wonder Simon wanted to marry her after only three days. He was forty years old and desperate!

  Was everything he’d told her a smokescreen to get her to marry him? Was he like Ted? She exhaled and let her head fall back against the wall.

  No, Simon would never manipulate facts to suit the fiction he wanted to be true. She knew Simon better after these few days than she had Ted after twelve years. Ted wouldn’t know an emotion if he stumbled over it. Even when he was urging her to marry him, he was cold and calculating. Nikki had seen it, but Marci had wanted that idyllic life he described so much she’d chosen to buy into the fantasy.

  Simon had shown her thoughtfulness, caring, and tenderness. His emotions had been raw when he spoke of how his parents treated Lance, and himself. And he’d just promised Lance that he’d tell her they wanted to keep having babies until they got at least one boy.

  That she could do.

  If Lance was anything like Simon, she would find him sexually attractive. She’d thought herself weak because she bowed to Ted’s will. But she’d found ways to be herself, outside Ted’s influence. She was the one people turned to for help. She could be strong if she wanted to. After all, she’d defeated Ted!

  “Yeah, I trust her, but I figured you’d want to push her, to make sure she was nothing like Charlene. If she can put up with you being head of the household, controlling her in return for everything else, then we’ll do fine. And you’re right. I think she’ll enjoy a good tussle before giving in to the inevitable. She needs to know that she’s safe with us, that we’ll provide for her and protect her. In return, she’ll give obedience to your command.”

  Controlling her? Giving in to the inevitable? And as for being obedient, she’d had enough of that crap with Ted!

  Marci rolled off the bed and stomped toward the kitchen. She stopped herself just before reaching the door. Once more, she’d let her experience with Ted cloud today’s reality. Ted demanded the obedience of a well-trained pet. Was that what Simon and Lance wanted?

  No, she couldn’t see either MacDougal brother wanting a robot. Choosing to follow a man’s order, when she understood the why and wherefore of it, was different. Why would she get upset if Lance ordered her not to step over a rattlesnake? Doing so was a quick way to die. Therefore, his order was acceptable.

  But what if he ordered to, say, wear heels, stockings and a garter belt under her skirt, as in no panties? That was not a life-or-death situation. It could be very arousing, however. And if she refused? How would he force her to obey him? Spank her? Her pussy spasmed at the thought of fighting him off, of not really wanting him to stop but needing the illusion of being taken. She hadn’t been able to trust any man to care for her, much less protect her. Would she trade that life in return for following orders, and being spanked when refusing? Marci shook her head, unable to contemplate that possibility. She needed a plan of action.

  If Lance pushed her limits, egging her on to see if she broke, she would push him back just as hard. She wasn’t sure how you pushed a big man, but she had a few ideas. Teasing a big man while pretending to be all innocent was one thing a small woman could do.

  Simon turned to ranch questions, something about feed, so she tuned out. Should she pretend she was asleep and hadn’t heard a thing about Lance’s plans, or the need for a son? And did it count as keeping a secret if he intended to tell her?

  She returned to the bed and flopped onto her back. Did she want to marry Simon? And Lance, she corrected herself. Marriage to one meant having sex with both of them. At once.

  Of course she was not going to have sex with Simon while his brother was there. Not unless she wanted to have both of them pleasuring her. Her pussy and breasts swelled at the thought of being on her hands and knees, naked, sucking a hard cock. She’d raise her bottom and spread her knees as she worked that cock, licking it, sucking each ball into her mouth and rolling her tongue around them. She’d feel a second man’s strong hands grab her hips as he took the hint and knelt behind her. He’d fill her pussy as his brother filled her mouth. Two cocks, front and back, all for her.

  Or she could ride one of them while the other pressed her forward and sank into her bottom. What would it be like to have a cock go there? Simon’s finger felt so good when he pressed just inside her anus. If they took the time to stretch her so it wouldn’t hurt, how much better would a long, thick cock feel? Either man could play with her breasts, concentrating on her nipples. If she sat up, her clit would be free for a finger or two to play with. And if she leaned forward she could drag her clit over his pubic bone and—

  “Feeling better, sleepyhead?”

  She jerked her hands away from her breast and pussy just before Simon stuck his head in the door. He saw she was awake and thumped his way in. Should she pretend she hadn’t heard the conversation? No. She wasn’t good at keeping secrets. She wouldn’t tell him what she’d heard, but would let him figure it out. And if he noticed she was aroused, maybe they could finish what she’d started.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Marci looked at the man she might very well marry.

  “The phone woke me,” she said.

  He stopped. He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. “You heard me talk with Lance?”

  “I wasn’t trying to listen.”

  He sat down gingerly on the side of the bed. She shuffled over to give him room. When he didn’t move, she patted the space beside her. He finally took the hint and settled on his back. She immediately curled up half on top of him. She hadn’t thought, just reacted to his presence. It felt right being there. His arm rested across her back. He drew idle circles with a finger, making her shiver.

  “I don’t know what you heard, so I’ll tell it straight. Before my great-great-grandfather, Finan MacDougal, moved to Texas, he wrote an ironclad contract to keep this land in the hands of the MacDougal Clan. Unless each generation has ‘legitimate issue,’ as in sons born within a legal marriage, everything goes to some Texan. We almost lost the ranch once, until my grandfathers, Keir and Gavin, were born. And since we’ve never married, we’re likely to lose it for real this time.”

  “When?”

  “Five years. Finan MacDougal’s father was forty-five when he was born. He said that was as late as a man could produce a son and raise him right before dying.”

  “So, you want a brood mare for the MacDougal Clan?”

  Simon winced. The heartbeat under her ear raced.

  “That’s pretty blunt, but I guess you’re right. We need a wife to pr
oduce at least one son in the next five years or we get kicked off the ranch with nothing.”

  “And you want the woman producing that son to be me?” His heart pounded even faster. The fingers trailing down her back sped up as well.

  “No, Marci, I want to marry the woman I love,” he said quietly. “I want to have her love me, and my brother. As part of that marriage I want us to have healthy children.” He cleared his throat. “I told you my oldest brother, Fergus, was the perfect heir. I was called the spare even though Lance is a couple of minutes older.”

  “That’s terrible!” She got up on one elbow to look at him. He shrugged.

  “That was my mother’s doing. I’d like a bunch of kids, but I want them to know they are loved no matter what. They can do whatever they want with their lives. If one of them is a boy who wants to be a rancher and keep the MD Connected going, that would be wonderful. If not, then our lives will go on somewhere else. All that matters is that my family is together. Whoever I marry.”

  She looked away. Though she’d heard him say he trusted her, he very carefully hadn’t said he wanted to marry her. It was a relief because she wasn’t ready to answer the question. She couldn’t until she knew if she’d end up in a prison cell.

  “If Lance and I get kicked off the land, I hope we wouldn’t have to move far, but we’d find a way. Lance is a whiz with horses. He can find lots of work. I’ll do anything I can. Maybe Donny and Keith would hire us. Me to work on the ranch and you to see to the house and children. Aggie’d love that.”

  She wanted her own home and family, not running someone else’s. She thought of the money that might be coming to her. Money that Simon knew nothing about. There might even be an explanation about money in that letter she didn’t want to open. Not likely, but it was a possibility. Would it bother the two proud men if she insisted it go toward paying off the ranch’s debt?

 

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