The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “Am not! “

  “Are so!” Nikki grabbed a pillow, laughing as she crowed, whacked Marci with it. “I bet you’ll talk back to Lance on purpose, forcing him to spank you. And when he does, you’ll fight and scream, loving every minute.”

  “Not true!” Furious that Nikki had seen through her, Marci rolled off the bed, a pillow in her hands. She whacked Nikki’s ribs as hard as she could. “I do not want to be spanked by Lance MacDougal!”

  “Oh, yes, you do. And you want him to tie you up, all spread-eagled so he can taste every part of you.” Whack!

  She couldn’t deny that, after what Simon had done.

  “Oh yeah? I bet you’re the one who wants that!” Whack!

  “Yep. And I bet you want one of them to take you doggie style while you’re sucking his brother’s cock!” Whack! Nikki gathered up the end of the pillow more firmly in her hand and took aim. “You’re going to do that with Simon and Lance, aren’t you?”

  “Not tonight.” Both women halted mid-swing at the deep, authoritative growl of an amused male. “But she will. Very soon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Marci whirled around, heart pounding from the fun fight and surprise arrival. A man who vaguely resembled Simon stood just inside the doorway. There was a family resemblance, but this man, in addition to the hawk nose and high cheekbones, was many shades darker with black hair. He set his feet shoulder width apart, crossed his massive arms, and assessed her, like a predator deciding what part of his prey to eat first.

  Lance MacDougal had arrived.

  A series of familiar thumps and Simon stomped into the room beside Lance. His hot blue eyes shot to her aroused breasts. She raised the pillow, clutching it as if to hide the evidence.

  Nikki nudged her hard in the shoulder. Marci gasped and inhaled, only now realizing she’d held her breath. Could they tell that her panties were wet? Simon had seen her taut nipples. Though they were now hidden by the pillow she clutched like a shield, Lance’s amused glance, and his satisfied nod at Simon, suggested he knew she was aroused.

  Her pussy thrummed, vibrating in need. Simon was a strong man, no doubt about it. But Lance took over the room merely by being there. He commanded respect by his bearing, his ease with the mantle of authority, and she suspected, looking at his size, by his physical ability to do whatever he damn well wanted.

  Ted had tried to made her feel weak, and she’d always felt unprotected. Simon would die protecting her and their children. But Lance wouldn’t die. He would protect her and their children from every danger, even herself. He would gently but securely hold her as she fought and struggled, knowing she needed to fight before giving in to her desires. Then he’d do to her exactly what he wanted. Even more, he would know it was also what she wanted.

  Simon was all man, complete in himself. But Lance had that extra something that drew her like a moth toward a flame, sensing danger but knowing she needed it to live. If it shortened her life, at least she would have embraced her life with passion.

  She wanted that passion, but like everything worthwhile, it came at a cost, which would be acknowledging Lance’s control of her. Now that she’d seen him in the flesh, there was a good chance she could accept his control. But only if her name was cleared and she married into the MacDougal family. One thing she would make clear first was that her value was equal to Simon and to Lance.

  Equal, but different.

  They had Bannock and Highland Scot chiefs as ancestors. Her mother might have had peasant roots, but her father was of Spanish nobility. Though he was a coward who lied and then ran from his responsibility, he had the blood of Conquistadors in his veins.

  So did she.

  Marci tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Waves of power flowed from Lance’s direct gaze. She could almost feel tendrils of energy caressing her, inside and out. Erotic tendrils which aroused and inflamed.

  It didn’t matter whether he put on a business suit, the MacDougal Clan kilt, deer-hide garments, or those well-worn jeans, boots, and washed-out striped shirt. Every pore of him radiated the fact he was a warrior, and would rule over all he surveyed, including her.

  Only seconds had passed since Lance stepped in the room, yet Marci’s world had shifted. She wanted Simon at her side, and would accept this man as their shield. She tossed the pillow aside and straightened up, facing him with determination and pride.

  Lance glanced briefly at Nikki, dismissed her, then stared directly into Marci’s eyes. She’d planned to put on a more flattering top, a clean skirt, and tidy her hair but it was too late. So be it. He would have to take her as she was. From the way his eyes caressed her, he’d take her any way he liked, no matter what.

  “Marci Meshevski, I’d like you to meet my twin brother, Lance MacDougal,” said Simon formally. “Lance, this is my woman. I told you she was something special.”

  “Your woman? Says who?” demanded Marci.

  Though deep inside she thrilled at Simon’s pride in her, she automatically bristled at the suggestion of ownership. That was something for her to bestow, not Simon to offer.

  “Let me correct that,” said Simon.

  “Dang right!” said Marci defiantly.

  “What I should have said was, Marci is our woman. Mine to provide for—”

  “And mine to protect and control.” Lance’s words came out in a growl.

  “I don’t think so!” She automatically responded with equal determination.

  “I know so,” Lance replied with complete confidence.

  His arrogant assumption that she would need protection, and that she’d let him control her, both aroused and infuriated her. She’d let Ted, a man who deserved no respect, steamroller her into a doormat. When she finally stood up to Ted, the night he tried to kill her, he’d crumbled.

  Would Lance crumble? Without thinking of the consequences she bent over and snatched her pillow. She got a good grip and rushed forward. Simon was the one laughing at her, so he was the one she attacked. She thumped him hard in the stomach. She couldn’t reach much higher. Simon, caught by her attack, gave a surprised oof and clutched his gut. Clenching her teeth in a victorious grin, she wound up for another blow. She raised her arms, pillowcase clenched in her fists, and started to swing.

  A band of iron wrapped around her ribs just under her breasts and lifted her off the floor. A hand yanked the pillow away. She struggled to escape, flailing with feet and arms. She elbowed the man holding her. Instead of releasing her, he gave a small grunt.

  “My woman needs a lesson in manners. Calm yourself, or face the consequences.”

  The low, controlled voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine. If sounds had color and texture, his would be thick black velvet. The expensive silk type, not the cotton. He wasn’t threatening her. He was stating a fact. Worse, he sounded amused by her attempts to escape.

  “I’m not your woman and this isn’t funny!” she hollered as she fought harder to escape. “Put me down!”

  “Stop resisting my control.”

  “No!”

  “Yes.”

  She grabbed the brown arm holding her against a warm, broad chest. She curled her fingers around his wrist but couldn’t budge it at all. Her chest tightened toward panic. He was strong enough to hold her like that all day. She could attack him all she liked and he’d still keep her close. She was trapped, unable to breathe. Suddenly she was thirteen, grabbed by a man who’d been hanging around the trailer park. He stank of old sweat, rancid breath, and cheap booze. She’d tried to escape but he’d trapped her with his arm around her ribcage. He’d hauled her backward into the woods. She’d screamed for Nikki. Her big sister had run over, screaming even louder, and smashed him in the knee with a thick stick. He’d dropped her and they’d run home, hand in hand.

  She’d never felt safe again. She thought Ted would protect her, but he was also a monster, only of the mind rather than the body.

  She’d never told anyone about her fear.

  M
arci exploded in terror, flailing to get free. She tried to scream but couldn’t inhale. Stars exploded behind her eyes as her panic increased. Then the tight band around her ribs loosened. Her feet touched the floor. She hauled air into her lungs. There was no stench here, no woods. But there was a man holding her. She couldn’t stop shaking as she fought to breathe.

  “Shh, you’re safe, little one.” A calm voice whispered the words near her ear. “Let it go and the panic will fade. I’ll protect you. No one will ever hurt you again. Never.”

  His words eased her terror, but he still didn’t release her. She shivered, muscles tight. Her bottom lip quivered. Nikki must have tried to rush to her defense as she was held the same way by Simon. Both stared at her in concern. But she needed comfort from the only person who’d ever protected her.

  “Nikki?” she whispered.

  “Let me go,” demanded Nikki. “My baby sister needs me!”

  “No, she doesn’t,” replied Simon. “She needs Lance. I know you want to help, but Marci is our responsibility now. We’ll work it out, together.”

  Nikki struggled but Simon had wrestled with cattle and horses all his life. He could hold one woman his size. Marci realized Simon was right. She was a grown woman and no longer needed her sister at her side. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen tonight, but neither man would harm her.

  “It’s all right,” whispered Marci. She forced her lips to curve up at the edges. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “You’re sure you want to stay with these men tonight? You can even have my bed and I’ll take the couch.”

  “No, I’m not sure. But I’m going to do it anyway.”

  Marci trembled in Lance’s grip—or was it an embrace?—as Simon helped Nikki leave. Lance continued to hold her with an easy grip that she knew would tighten if she tensed to escape. Shortly after she heard the sound of Nikki’s car.

  “You’re mine now, and I will protect you,” repeated Lance into the silence.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lance had been prepared for a fun-loving woman who teased Simon by dabbing chocolate on her breasts. The wild-eyed sprite with messy clothes, her hair all over the place from a pillow fight with her much bigger sister, was a surprise.

  So was her continued arousal. Though she’d fought his hold on her, she was not frightened. Not by a long shot.

  He was hard long before he arrived home. But his cock turned to steel at Nikki’s description of him spanking, tying up, and tasting his woman. He’d wanted Marci since he realized his twin was not joking about what she was pressing into Simon’s mouth. He was surprised he hadn’t got a dozen speeding tickets the way he’d sent his truck roaring toward Climax. The name of the town perfectly suited what he wanted to provide the hot little fox.

  One look and his spirit entwined with hers. He felt her pussy quiver, her expectation of his demands, and her determination to stand tall. This woman, tiny as she was, had something in her that proclaimed she would fight to the death to protect those she loved.

  A warrior, just like him, but with a different strength.

  She was female, designed to create and nurture life. It was hard to “see” those of his blood, but faint lines linked Marci to Simon. He could not see his own.

  She bristled when he informed her of his protection, and control. That was her way, to challenge before accepting. As he’d told Simon, he would provoke her to gauge her reactions. Though he felt that she was the one, he needed to prove it to himself and Simon, and to let Marci prove it to herself. She would not accept them fully into her life unless and until she knew her strengths were accepted, and that they cared more for her than themselves. She must also accept that he was in control of the relationship, not her.

  He would get her as aroused and furious as possible to see how she reacted when provoked. He hoped she’d attack him physically so he could calmly subdue her. It would be best if it happened in a private place, where his physical control could be followed by sexual. Once she knew she could trust him to care for her physically, and that he could more than meet her sexual needs, she would accept him, and her place within their family.

  But if it was necessary, he’d put her across his lap in the middle of the Climax roadhouse with everyone in town looking on. He’d have to apply his hand on top of her clothes, of course. But she’d get the real thing sooner rather than later.

  He didn’t show off. He took charge and did what was required.

  Marci was a complex woman. She had bad memories, needing to be exorcized as if they were demons. When she rushed forward with her soft weapon he let her attack his brother, but only once. Then he had to touch her. An elbow in the gut was nothing to a man who worked with horses. His warning, as expected, had provoked a reaction. But it went far beyond the fury he expected.

  He felt her terror as she fought a memory. He had to tamp down his need to destroy anyone who’d harmed this woman. He released her, just enough to keep her safe.

  Declaring that she belonged to him, and that he would protect her, sealed their lives.

  He would let Simon marry her, since such trappings meant more to his brother. It wasn’t necessary to him, as he felt the link and knew it would last forever.

  Unfortunately, Marci didn’t feel it. He would give her time to adjust to her new reality. Part of that adjustment was getting used to his touch.

  * * * *

  Marci accepted the feeling of calm assurance that flowed from Lance. It took a moment, but she realized his words didn’t spring from arrogance, but from an unshakable confidence that he would protect her. The flip side of that concerned her more. He expected her to obey him. That concept would take some discussion. Unless his definition of the word was different from hers, it was not happening. No matter how hot and wet it made her.

  This was 1988, for God’s sake! Men did not control their wives in return for protecting them from saber-toothed tigers! Women had jobs, and lives, and could bring home the bacon just as easily as men.

  She’d dreamed of turning a house into a warm, loving home for her herself, her husband, and their family. That dream had died with her marriage to Ted. But she had another chance now.

  She’d had the society wife and perpetual volunteer life. It had satisfied her, but only because she had no other choice. Now, she did.

  Given a choice, she wanted to be a full-time wife and mother. She wanted to raise children and cook the bacon her he-man brought home to her. She wanted to surprise him at the door now and then in little more than a negligee, spike heels, and a smile.

  Providing a comfortable home to raise a family was a damn good choice of career, even if it went against what society now said women should want. She was not going to be like those old sitcoms from the fifties, wearing an apron and high heels with perfect makeup and hair as she vacuumed the carpet.

  She bit back a smile. She might do housework wearing only an apron and heels if her husband was about to arrive home. She’d scrub a floor on her hands and knees wearing a really short skirt, knowing he was likely to walk past and see her. The more she thought of it, the more she realized all the opportunities to present her availability and eagerness for hot sex. If she married Simon, she’d get Lance as well. Even more opportunity to have her needs met, and to enjoy meeting theirs.

  As she relaxed against Lance she felt his large, hard cock press into her lower back. Her body must be on autopilot because it responded, flooding her senses. She inhaled a mix of pine, leather, and the faint tang of sweat. Different from Simon, but no less arousing.

  She heard steps and swung her eyes to Simon as he appeared in the doorway. He had the same bulge in his pants. His stance was equally possessive. She had not seen this side of him before. Or at least, not to this extent. Was it because Lance held her?

  She wanted to be protected, loved, and to belong to a family. Finally free of her controlling, abusive husband, the last thing she wanted was to find another. Though she wanted their bodies, she had to push back at L
ance’s controlling ways. It was best to start as she meant to continue.

  “You are not going to force me into this,” she said calmly to Simon. Lance held her close, not changing his grip or pressure. “I spent too many years being controlled by a bully. The last thing I need is another one.” She tilted her head to look up. “Or worse, two of you.”

  Eyes as blue as Simon’s met hers. She expected them to be cold, but they were warm, like a cat’s dark fur in the sun. So were the hands which brushed up her arms. Each of her hairs stood on end, as if he was an energy source.

  The corners of Lance’s hard mouth curved up, barely enough to notice. “Simon tells me you wish for a family, one with deep roots, and a wide circle of good friends.”

  She swallowed, hard. Unable to look away from his intense gaze, or to speak, she gave a small nod. One of his hands curled around her shoulder as the other dropped past her waist. It was difficult to think as that trail of fire moved over her.

  “We can give you that family. But as with everything there is a cost. I am the leader of this family. I expect to be obeyed, instantly. If you disobey, you will discover there are consequences, to everything.”

  His hand caressed her right bottom cheek, an unspoken warning of a much harder touch. Nikki might enjoy the thought of being put over a man’s lap and spanked like a child, but that was not going to happen to her.

  Lance didn’t touch her like Simon, with an eager appreciation as well as a bit of reverence. He put his hand on her as if he had every right to use her body as he wished. She fought the instant arousal at his possession. She might like it, but she was not going to give in without a fight. She pulled away. Point made, he let her go.

  “We leave in twenty minutes.” Lance released her, walking into the kitchen as if he didn’t give her another thought. She felt cool where his hands had been.

  “Leave to go where?” she asked.

  She heard the sound of the fridge opening. “Roadhouse.”