The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “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 forever. 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.

  “Her name is Doctor Nikki Meshevski,” said Matt.

  Eric heard the words, but they didn’t make sense at first. Then it hit, full bore.

  Matt, a man who’d barely made it through one year of agricultural college, had fallen for the town doctor? No wonder he wanted his big brother to ease his way. Matt was a person who had to be outside doing things with his hands. He was damn good at it, too. But he backed off fast if a stranger talked in big words, or had a college degree and an office job. Eric bit back his usual tirade about education, smarts, and ability being totally separate things.

  “I’m impressed that you asked the doc to dance,” he said.

  “I knew it was my only chance. She’s the bride’s sister. As Simon’s best man, it was expected we’d dance. I waited until everyone was half-drunk so they wouldn’t notice.”

  “You didn’t talk with her when you danced?”

  “You’ve been all over the world, doing and seeing things,” replied Matt quietly. “You’ve got all those years of school, and use ten-dollar words, just like she does. I don’t know what to say to a woman like Nikki to break the ice.” He looked up with a hint of a grin. “I’ll be fine once she’s in my bed and we get cozy-like. But I need you to get her there.”

  Eric released his belt and unzipped. His pants dropped to the floor with a thud thanks to his heavy buckle, leather belt, and holstered knife.

  “I know being away at college damn near killed you,” he said as he stepped free. “I respect you for finishing your year. You’re a damn good rancher. I know I can come home and you’ll have everything working fine. You always know when an early storm is going to hit, so you move the cattle down from summer pastures. You can find the best-hidden cattle and roust them at round-up. Sitting in a classroom won’t teach that. I might have been born first, but you’ve got the land in your blood.”

  Ever since he could crawl Eric wanted to find out how things worked. He wasn’t yet four when he took apart his tricycle. That wasn’t a problem. It was using his mother’s expensive face cream to grease it that brought Dad’s wrath down on his ass. Pops watched him put it back together, but he hadn’t needed any help other than holding parts so he could bolt them together.

  When he started school Pops took him to Mr. Peters’s garage. His son, Kenny, was in Eric’s class. After that, once a month on a Friday he went home with Kenny. The three of them would work on machines all weekend. Pops picked them up in time for Saturday’s supper. After working on the ranch with Eric and Matt as they got older, Kenny’s parents would come out for Sunday supper and take him home. Of course, the balance of work and play depended on the day, the time of year, and how much trouble they’d got into.

  He did the ranching work that needed to be done, without complaint, of course. But he loved keeping the machinery going, inventing new tools and jigs, while Matt loved working the land. It had taken years, and leaving for college without a word, for his parents to finally realize he wanted nothing to do with being a rancher. All along they’d assumed he’d get over his itchy feet and be just like them.

  Yes, Eric had a couple of extra years of formal education, but his ability to think and create wasn’t any different than Matt’s. Education didn’t matter, but Matt wasn’t yet convinced of that. Eric waited while Matt stared at the floor. His brother’s shoulders rose as he hauled air deep in his lungs, and then dropped when he exhaled.

  Matt cleared his throat after the silence. “You want three double cheeseburgers with your fries, or four?”

  “Four. Haven’t eaten in a while and might want a midnight snack. Make it a strawberry shake this time.”

  “Oho, big brother is living dangerously!”

  The door closed behind Matt with a snick. Eric stared after him as he gathered the strength to shower. It had been a hellacious trip. And now Matt wanted him to seduce the woman he planned to marry? Eric had passed the stage of wanting whatever sex he could get. He wanted quality, not quantity. Specifically, he wanted a woman unafraid of the beast who lived within him. He’d heard it was the ones who were strongest in public who wanted to submit in private. If this doctor was interested, maybe she could meet his needs as well as his brother’s. And if the woman had a few fantasies that itched to be scratched…

  Eric adjusted the water temperature, stepped into the shower, and pulled the knob. Gallons of fresh, sweet water blasted his breastbone. He ducked to get his head wet. The only showers tall enough for men his size were in the bathrooms he’d designed. One was at the ranch, and one at his new house. Each was big enough for three big people. They also had a wide seat that folded down. After he provided the lady with a few orgasms, maybe that seat would finally get a workout.

  He flipped the tap to the cold end of the spectrum. It didn’t make his cock any less hard, but it woke him up some. He soaped his chest, luxuriating in the feeling of being clean.

  Doctor Nikki Meshevski might not want either of them. But if she was at all interested, he would do anything and everything to haul her into bed. His bed, not Matt’
s. After meeting her needs a few times he would sink his cock deep into her. His balls would bang against her ass as his cock filled her pussy to the hilt. Usually he had to hold his fist around the shaft when he entered a woman so he didn’t bottom out. But if she was a six-footer she should have a deeper pussy. Maybe deep enough even for him.

  His soapy hand grasped his eager cock. He slowly stroked, thinking of what he’d do with a decent-size female. He pictured a tall, voluptuous blonde in spike heels, black hose, garter belt, and nothing else but a smile. His hand sped up. He’d order her to her knees. Her mouth would be the perfect height. She’d take all of him, sucking him deep until he touched the back of her mouth. And then he’d—

  “Yes!”

  His cum shot across the shower, blasting the wall like a fire hose. He slumped, chest heaving. It was far too long since his cock had touched a woman. Any woman. He rinsed himself, tilting the showerhead to remove the evidence of his need. The next time he put his cock to use it would be with Matt’s woman, whoever she was.

  Food was next, then sleep. Tomorrow morning he’d drive to Climax. He’d find Matt’s mystery woman, and prove, repeatedly, how the town got its name.

  * * * *

  Matt almost whistled as he drove back to the motel. The bag of burgers, fries, and drinks tempted him, but he’d wait and eat with Eric. It was well after midnight, and cold. But the memory of Nikki kept him so warm he didn’t bother with the heater.

  He hadn’t asked his brother for anything in years. Eric pitched in when he was at home, doing necessary chores but preferring to spend his time fixing anything remotely mechanical. He always checked out the old folks, having a visit with them while he fixed door hinges, replaced porch steps, and did the things that needed doing but the old uncles weren’t quite up to. He’d just pick up a hammer or whatever and start working as the men talked about how things used to be and how life was going to hell in a handbasket with the young whippersnappers of today. He’d nod and keep working until an aunt or granny came out with lemonade or coffee and home baking.

  Eric would smile back and laugh in the right spots, but it never reached his eyes. Matt first noticed that bone-deep sadness when Eric finally came home after almost a year away. It had taken Pops getting sick to haul him north. He’d come back regularly since then, but his spark had gone. Matt hadn’t asked what happened, figuring Eric would tell him one day. But he’d kept it all bottled inside.

  Matt hoped Nikki could bring him back to life. She sure had changed his life the day they’d come face to face in the mercantile. He’d heard about the new doctor, that she was tall, blonde, and gorgeous. But it wasn’t just her looks that grabbed him by the balls.

  She was smart, a physician for God’s sake, but she didn’t walk around with her nose in the air the way the other town doctors had. He’d watched her kneel down and lift up a child who wanted a hug, even if the kid was grubby. She listened to the old men jawing outside the mercantile, adding respectful comments that made them think, or saying something that had them busting a gut.

  And when she laughed…He’d do dang near anything to make her laugh.

  He’d already been half in love with her when he heard about her home visits. Doctor Nikki had insisted the town let her spend her spare time visiting shut-ins and those who couldn’t afford to visit the clinic. All the people had to pay was for medicine. She told them that, since she was hired to serve them, they could repay the town any way they could.

  He’d heard about the plan for Climax to book a table at the big Dillon summer flea market. They’d sell whatever was donated, with the money going to support the clinic. They’d have baking, quilts, handmade soap, sausages, wooden toys, leatherwork, and anything else a body could make.

  Only by chance did he hear it was Nikki’s idea. Unlike many city folk, she understood people out here didn’t take charity, they helped each other out. Small town folk and ranchers may not have much coin in their pockets, but they paid their debts, and then some. What they did have was sweat off their backs and the craft of their fingers.

  That’s the type of woman he wanted. Strong, capable, honest, hard-working, loyal, and sexy as all get-out. But rumor said she didn’t want a husband, that her profession was enough for her. That made him think he didn’t have a hope in hell of her even looking at him.

  Their chance meeting in the mercantile, when he’d darn near burst into flames just from being that near, had given him hope. She had dumped her coat in her basket, revealing a snug sweater that proved just how big her chest really was. And when she looked at him, nipples popped out of that sweater. Big ones. Her face had turned pink as she checked him out. He’d had to escape before she saw his raging hard-on. He hadn’t trusted himself near her after that. All he could offer her was a hard cock and a ranch that took every moment of his time, so he’d backed off.

  But in the run-up to Marci’s wedding, being Simon’s best man, he got a chance to learn more about the two sisters. When he heard they’d had a hardscrabble life, he got a ray of hope. Nikki was fine with living in that tiny apartment Perkins had over his garage. If she could put up with that, she might not mind being the wife of a rancher. The Circle C had a fine house, thanks to the extensions his parents had added.

  As for refusing to take on a husband, much less two, he had an answer for that as well. Nikki was the best doctor Climax ever had. She loved her work, and made a decent income. If she’d be his wife, they could hire a full-time, live-in housekeeper. Nikki could come home to hot meals, a clean house, and his open arms.

  But for that to happen, she had to first accept him into her bed. He could talk to anyone, flirting and chatting. But he couldn’t think of a thing to say to a medical doctor who could crush his heart with one stomp of her size-ten boots.

  That was why he needed Eric. Once he joined Nikki in bed, he knew he could show her how much he cared for her. He wouldn’t be tongue-tied after that tongue had licked her until she screamed and came in his mouth.

  And then maybe, just maybe, she’d agree to make him the happiest man in Montana.

  Chapter Four

  Twin male groans erupted at the shrill ringing of the telephone. It was by Eric’s side of the bed so he reached out a long arm. After fumbling a bit in the dark he snagged the receiver. Without opening his eyes or rolling from his stomach, he pressed it to his ear.

  “This better be damn important.”

  “And good morning to you, too, sunshine.”

  Eric recognized the flippant voice. Tom was the other engineer who worked in the field with him. They got along fine, mostly because they left each other alone.

  “Dammit, Tom! What’s so important it can’t wait a couple of weeks?”

  “Hey, buddy. You sound out of sorts. Did I take you from a woman?”

  Tom showed far too much enthusiasm for this hour of the morning. For any hour, in fact.

  “Piss off. It’s just me and Matt here.” Eric had mentioned Tom over the years to Matt, and vice versa. Not much, just that they existed.

  “Aw,” continued Tom, “did rushing to your buddy’s wedding interrupt your search for that tall, sexy woman?”

  Matt turned on the bedside lamp, blinding Eric, then got up on one elbow. He used his free hand to yank the receiver away.

  “The search is over,” said Matt loudly into the phone. “I found her.”

  “You found something decent in your ass-freezing, one-horse cow town?”

  Tom’s voice was loud enough to be heard even though Matt held the receiver.

  “One-horse town?” exclaimed Matt. “There’s more horses in Climax than there are people.”

  “Exactly,” replied Tom.

  Giving up on sleep, Eric hauled himself up to lean against the headboard. Matt was another one far too cheerful for the hour. His brother had always been a morning person, just like Dad. It was a useful trait, and another reason Eric didn’t like ranching. He was more of a night owl, working into the wee hours when a problem surfaced.


  “Good talking to you, Matt,” said Tom, “but I got some bad news for your brother. Give him a pillow to punch or you’ll be paying to repair drywall.”

  “He’s footing the bill.” Matt tossed Eric the phone. He followed it with a couple of pillows, aimed at Eric’s head, before padding off to the bathroom.

  “What’s gone down the tube that has you tracking me down in Missoula?” demanded Eric.

  “How ’bout losing your job?”

  “What the hell?” Suddenly awake and alert, Eric hauled himself farther up the headboard.

  “You heard the rumors of a hostile takeover?”

  “Yeah, but no details. I came here without calling the head office. Still missed the damn wedding. What’s up?”

  “Those greedy little bastards sold off what their fathers spent their lives building. There’s a new broom and it’s sweeping clean. Anyone who knew the old boys was axed. I wouldn’t work for them anyway.” He paused. “They’re closing down the operation, which means closing out the village.”

  Eric’s stomach dropped to his knees. After the years they’d lived and worked together, the locals were like family.

  “If those bastards hurt—”

  “The people are okay. They’ll make new homes.” Tom’s voice hardened. “I told them to take every damn thing they could carry and haul the rest behind them with sleds. I might have suggested a few booby traps, but don’t quote me on that.”

  Eric had learned a few things about defense from Tom, things that were not taught openly. Rumors were he’d spent a few years in a branch of the government that didn’t exist. He wasn’t one for pyrotechnics. He used snares, stealth, and strength. Anyone he thought needed to disappear would never be found.

  Tom could move like a ghost, but he was no friendly Casper. At five foot eight with medium build, light-brown hair, and average build, he could blend into any place that spoke English. A perpetual tan, acting skills, and a gift for languages ensured he could disappear in most of the world. Before anyone knew he was there, he was gone. Those he let live could never identify him.