The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “I like the job just fine, honey. But I’ve always wanted to say that to someone. I love your fathers, but you know how old school they are. They think a woman is only fulfilled if she’s taking care of people. Well, I can do a lot more here in town to take care of others than fussing over three men at home.”

  “You’re hired,” said Marci. “But it will take a few weeks to get things set up. If you quit this job, what will you do until then?”

  Mrs. Gibson took in the lot of them with one eager glance. “I am going to be Climax’s best ever wedding planner. I hear I have about eight days to pull together a wedding ceremony.”

  “I’ve never planned a wedding, but I’ll help,” said Marci.

  “You’d better, since it’s your wedding I’m planning!”

  Marci laughed. “It’ll be a good excuse to be together while we work out how we want the foundation to operate. Can we talk about the foundation, since we’re all here?”

  Nikki joined Marci and Sandra, as she insisted she be called.

  “You’re in for it now,” Nikki heard Max say to Simon. “Didn’t you help tie a certain groom to a light post a while back, then hand a black permanent marker to a biker, the night before the wedding? And then there was my wedding, when you—”

  Their voices faded. Nikki couldn’t wait to see what would happen.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” said Marci, trying not to giggle at Simon as they swing danced across the Legion Hall. It had been transformed with lots of tissue paper flowers and streams of white crepe paper. “And it’ll rub off. Eventually.”

  “I know just want I want to rub against it.”

  Simon sent her out with a twist of his wrist and then curled her back into his chest. They came together awkwardly due to Simon’s cast. Marci had just learned about the custom of a groom’s so-called friends doing things to him the night before the wedding. In Simon’s case, it involved a permanent black marker and a certain part of his anatomy.

  “I kind of like the idea of the elephant ears I hear they drew on your thighs,” she said, continuing to press him. He snorted his disagreement. “Well, actually,” she added, lowering her voice to make him lean closer, “it’s the elephant’s trunk that has me wet.”

  She brushed her leg between his thighs to emphasize her point. She felt his point, hard and long, respond. Simon groaned. Sandra Gibson, in her role as wedding planner, had insisted Marci live with Nikki. She’d made the men promise not to be anywhere near Marci without her. Marci had finally met the senior Gibsons at the reception. She could see why Sandra wanted to get away from them now and then. They had the same eager glint in their eyes as her grooms.

  Lance appeared behind Simon. He tapped him on the shoulder, told him to take a hike with a thumb gesture, and took over dancing.

  “You try any of that teasing with me and I will put you over my lap.” Lance gave her That Look that said he was serious. Her pussy responded eagerly.

  “Oh, no,” she said with a groan. “Now I won’t be able to sit down without making a wet spot on my dress.”

  Lance’s hand slid from her waist to cup her bottom cheek through her dress. He patted it lightly, teasing her with his touch as much as he did with his eyes. His thumb strayed into the cleft of her buttocks. The loosely flowing dress didn’t stop his explorations. She faltered, missing a step. He chuckled and moved his hand back to her waist.

  “More than half these women are just as wet,” he murmured in her ear. “I doubt any of the Tanner’s Ford wives are wearing panties.”

  Lance turned her to face Aggie and Keith. Marci had already complimented Aggie on her knee-length dress of dark blue jersey. Her cowboy boots were made for dancing rather than mucking out the barn, and shone. When they’d met earlier in the ladies’ room, Aggie had muttered that the only reason she was wearing a dress instead of pressed jeans was that Keith had laid the outfit on the bed while she was showering. That was when Marcie saw the telltale bumps that couldn’t be avoided when wearing a garter belt and hose. Marci had the same bumps on her thighs.

  “How long do we have to stay?” she asked.

  “You just say the word and we are on our way home.”

  “The word.”

  He leaned back, looked at her, and proved how white his teeth looked against his skin. He stuck out his jaw and pursed his lips. A shrill whistle pierced the room. The band stopped and everyone stared.

  “Simon! Get the truck. We’re taking our wife home.” He turned to the crowd. “Enjoy the party, folks. Thanks for coming. We’ll see you in a week or two.”

  He moved to bend over. Marci backed up.

  “No!” she said. “You are not putting me over your shoulder!”

  Apprehension tightened Marci’s chest. Her mouth went dry. She tried to step back, but he had her in an iron grip. Her heart pounded, but her pussy also throbbed. She shifted her feet. It made her thighs rub against her naked, shaved pussy lips.

  Sheriff Gibson appeared at Lance’s elbow. He was in uniform.

  “I warned you already, Mr. MacDougal,” he said. “Paddling a woman in public is not tolerated in Climax.” Boos rang out, both from males and females. Max winked. “I suggest you take Mrs. MacDougal home to do that.”

  Lance scooped her into his arms. Whistles and cheers erupted throughout the room. She hid her face against his chest as he carried her past the throngs of well-wishers. The evening was cool but between her arousal and his warmth, she needed no coat. She pulled her head up when he stopped beside a rumbling pickup truck. It looked ancient, with a rounded hood and wooden sides to the box. More tissue flowers and crepe paper decorated it.

  “We’re riding home in that?” she asked.

  “Bench seat,” explained Simon as he opened the passenger door. Lance placed her on the seat, encouraged her to push over, and slid in beside her.

  “I thought you always drove?” she asked as Simon climbed behind the wheel.

  “Simon’s driving the truck,” explained Lance quietly. They drove out of the parking lot to cheers and the clanking of tin cans dragging behind.

  “Lift up,” said Lance when Simon turned onto the main road.

  When she hesitated, he gave her a warning look. She used her fists to raise her bottom. He put a white towel under her, making sure there were no wrinkles. Then he slid her dress to her waist. Her wet thighs glistened when they passed under one of their five streetlights. The vibration of the old diesel engine transferred to the flat seat, making her quiver.

  “Damn, you smell good, Marci,” said Simon.

  “You drive the truck,” ordered Lance. “I’m driving our woman.”

  He sank his fingers between her thighs. She moaned and spread her knees. His index finger found her clit. She gasped, pushing her bottom into his hand to beg for more. Lance chuckled.

  “Driving our woman crazy.”

  Simon reached down to help. His finger swirled around her clit. She bucked, shaking. How could she have forgotten how good this felt? How much she loved their touch, their voices, the scent of them.

  “How fast does this thing go, Sy?”

  “Not fast enough.”

  Lance flipped open his belt, unzipped, and shoved his pants to his knees. He lifted her by the waist to turn her. She cooperated eagerly holding on to the seat back to support her until—oh yes!—she sank onto his cock. He was thick, and hot, and everything she could ever want in a man. She tried to move, but Lance held her still

  “Don’t,” he said. He pulled her close, dropping his head over her shoulder to hug her for a moment. He sighed, then smiled at her. “This is all I need right now,” he murmured. He drew his knuckle over her scar, his eyes showing more love than she thought possible. “Just to be in you.”

  Simon rested his hand on her thigh. It was not a sexual touch, but a loving one. She placed her hand on his, and they joined fingers. They were connected now, all three of them. Four, with the spark of life growing in her.


  “We’ll be home soon,” said Simon gently.

  She looked from Lance, to Simon, and back. Their faces were blurred by the tears that filled her eyes.

  “I am home.”

  THE END

  WWW.REECEBUTLER.NET

  Climax, Montana 2

  Having It All

  As the doctor for Climax, Montana, Nikki Meshevski counsels poly families. Rejected for her height, brains, and take-charge attitude, she's still a virgin, but is eager to change her status to better serve her patients.

  When she sees engineer Eric Frost, home for a quick visit, she realizes her fantasies of domination and control could become reality. An affair with the Frost brothers seems the perfect solution, especially as she's already fallen in lust with his fun-loving younger brother, Matt.

  Nikki wants a short-term solution, but Matt wants a wife for the Circle C Ranch, and children to love. Sister Marci is a happy ranch wife, but Nikki's never been domestic. While she loves both Eric's commands and Matt's gentle touch, and wants them in her life, she will not give up her career to become a wife.

  Must she choose between their love or her profession? Or can she have it all?

  Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 117,670 words

  HAVING IT ALL

  Climax, Montana 2

  REECE BUTLER

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  June 1988, Climax, Montana

  “But you have to dance with Matt! He’s Simon’s best man, and you’re my maid of honor.”

  Doctor Nikki Meshevski shook her head at her younger sister. They were having a few minutes of privacy before getting dressed for Marci’s wedding to Simon and Lance MacDougal. Soon Marci would no longer be a widow. Thanks to two husbands, she would certainly stay merry.

  “Matt can’t stand the sight of me. Ever since I bumped into him in the mercantile, he’s avoided me.”

  “Avoided you? In a town the size of Climax?” Marci shook her head, making her dark hair swirl all the way to her bottom. “Impossible.”

  “Whenever he sees me he steps into a store, or turns away.”

  Most of the men she’d met in town were tall ranchers, men with a natural sense of confidence who were not intimidated by her six-foot, sturdy frame. Matt was a few inches taller, yet when they met in the sundries aisle he’d flicked his eyes over her and bolted. She’d turned and watched his first-class curved butt as he strode away, his cowboy boots thunking on the wood floor.

  She’d since watched him strut past her office window, seemingly oblivious to her gaze. For some reason his broad chest, wide shoulders, and deep brown eyes made her panties damp. So had his rodeo buckle, a large silver oval, which drew attention to his belt and what lay a few inches lower. He had a wide, easy smile, which he gave to every child, pet, and woman in town, except her.

  It was unfortunate, but she’d fallen in lust with the only bachelor cowboy in town, and he didn’t want anything to do with her. A disappointment, but nothing she couldn’t get over. His reaction didn’t stop her fantasies of hearing his boots hit the floor before he dove into bed with her. A giant bed, one long enough for her to stretch out. Or be stretched in.

  She ran the tips of her fingers over the long strand of pale-pink pearls descending into her cleavage, a wedding gift from Marci’s men. As she was much shorter, they’d given Marci a necklace proportional to her height. With her darker coloring, the creamy pearls looked lovely resting against her collarbone. Neither of them had ever owned anything so beautiful.

  “Maybe it’s a coincidence,” said Marci, hedging. She sipped her chamomile tea, then curled her lip at the taste. At her stage of pregnancy, even the scent of coffee was a definite no-no.

  “Excuse me? A coincidence that a bachelor cowboy ducked into a hair salon full of gossiping women when I walked past? I think not.” Six years older, Nikki also had ten inches on Marci and had no problem using her height to intimidate.

  “Lance says Matt’s just shy.” Marci looked at her over the rim of her mug, immune to Nikki’s attitude. “He turned red when Simon told him he’d be your escort.” Her cheeks dimpled. “We both know what it means when a cowboy lowers his hat to cover his belt buckle. He likes you, no matter what you think.”

  Women had an easier time hiding their arousal. Her pearl-colored satin bra would hide her tight nipples, and her matching tap pants would cover her damp curls, both of which appeared whenever she thought of him. Brenda Gibson, her head nurse, had seen her interest when Matt walked past, and the blush that followed when discovered. She’d told Nikki plenty about Matt and his older brother, Eric. Matt had been wild during his buckle-bunny days, so Nikki figured he knew his way around a woman.

  She was thinking of asking Brenda to set up an accidental meeting when she’d learned Matt was desperate for a wife. Unlike Marci’s MacDougal twins, he wouldn’t lose the ranch without a son, but he was lonely and wanted a wife and children on his ranch. As they were Tanner’s Ford ranchers, there was an unspoken assumption that Matt’s wife would also share her bed with Eric when he was in town.

  And didn’t that send her fantasies into high gear!

  A photo of the two brothers was on the wall in the diner section of the Climax Roadhouse. Both were tall with brown hair. Both had made her respiration increase. Matt had grinned as he held up his new champion rodeo buckle while Eric had a commanding presence which made her shiver. Since then, her fantasies included powerful, barbarian men who enjoyed overpowering women.

  When she heard Eric was rarely in town, wanted nothing to do with a wife, and would to be at Marci’s wedding, she decided he would be perfect for an affair. Surely after months in the Peruvian jungle he’d be eager for a woman like her. Like a sparkler, they could burn bright for the few weeks he was there and then fizzle out when he left.

  Then last week he’d sent a telegram that he was delayed by work and might not make it in time. That left her dancing with the brother who didn’t want her.

  “Why couldn’t I be paired with Keith Adams? He’s Lance’s best man.”

  “Aggie’s wearing a dress today, which means Keith won’t let her out of his sight.”

  Nikki’s tension meter dropped a few degrees at the news. Like Aggie, full-time ranch wife and mother of four, she always wore jeans and boots as it was practical for work. She genuinely enjoyed Aggie and her husbands Keith and Donny, but there was no way on God’s green earth that she would ever, ever live her life of rustic domesticity.

  It was a life that Marci was eagerly jumping into with all the joy of a woman who’d finally found what she’d dreamed of and never in her wildest fantasies expected to happen. She and Marci were as different as their fathers had been. The only thing the two men had in common was lying to their mother about marriage and then abandoning her as soon as they discovered she was pregnant.

  “I’m wearing a dress because you asked me to,” said Nikki. “But why is Aggie?”

  “Lance said Keith put his foot down.” Marci sighed like a woman in love, fanning her face while smiling broadly. “When our men give an order, we obey it or else. Of course, sometimes we want the ‘or else,’ and refuse.” She looked down. Under her near-see-through slip the outline of a white thong could be seen. “Lance told me not to wear panties. I decided to be naughty.”

  She knew why her sister challenged Lance. She wanted to be spanked, bare-bottomed over his lap. The town of Climax not only had a large proportion of women with two husbands. Often one of those men had a rather feudal view of his wife. Perfect examples were Keith Adams and Lance MacDougal. Both were tall, commanding men who exuded a sense of power and control. That control extended to their women. When Marci spoke her vows today, it would be to obey Lance and to cherish Simon. Just as Aggie had with Keith and Donny.

  Spanking was a big part of Nikki’s fantasy
repertoire. Sometimes she imagined being ordered to lay her torso on the bed. She’d fight him all the way, but he’d overpower her, pull down her panties and, though she screamed and fought, do whatever he wanted with her. By the time he entered her she would be approaching her second or third orgasm and screaming for a quite different reason.

  All she would have were fantasies, unless she could find a temporary lover.

  She was about ten when she’d vowed to never marry. She’d made her career her life, and it suited her fine. When she accepted the position of Climax town physician, she’d promised to stay until she was old and gray. It was hard finding good doctors willing to live in small towns. Climax had gone through two in the last five years. Both men had demanded more money, then left when they learned it was impossible.

  Things were a bit different now. Marci had insisted on donating the money from her ex-husband’s life insurance policy to create a fund to help those who needed it the most. They’d already hired Doctor Dick Hudson part-time. He was an older widower who’d wanted the fishing and hunting small-town life that Climax could provide. He had investments from his years in the city and wanted just enough to get by.

  Having grown up in poverty, Nikki had few needs: a home of her own, friends to laugh with, and family nearby. With Marci marrying into the MacDougal ranch, with a baby already on the way, Nikki would have everything she needed.

  Everything but sex.

  No doubt about it, Nikki wanted to experience sex. But not just any sex. She wanted good sex. She wanted to scream with passion and erupt into the orgasms she’d never experienced. Nikki had been kissed exactly seven times. She’d enjoyed none of it. No man ever made her hot and bothered. She figured she was broken until she saw Matt and felt a zing throughout her entire body. But, even if he’d liked her, Matt Frost was the happily-ever-after type, with his wife working in the kitchen, raising their children.