The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “Just so you know,” said Eric, his deep voice slow and arousing, “I’ll be sleeping in my bed. But there’s lots of room for two. Or three,” he added. “Matt’ll be back the end of the week.”

  She closed her eyes as a new wave of lust swept over her. One session with the oldest Frost brother had been overwhelming. How could she handle two?

  One step at a time, girl. Just like school. And this will be a lot more fun.

  But it could also be dangerous. She was in far more control at school. The word went out the window when she was near this man.

  She took a deep breath and fought back. His eyes caressed her, up and down between her breasts and her groin. She pushed the thought of Matt away. He wasn’t here. Eric was, and she wanted him to take her to new orgasmic heights. If she pushed him enough, he might show her the commanding, arousing he-man that she craved.

  “Just so you know,” she countered, raising her chin, “I am not giving up that comfortable bed. I can put up with your snores for a couple of weeks.”

  Another of those low, knowing chuckles and she’d come in her panties!

  “I don’t snore, baby girl,” he said, almost purring. “But I plan to do a hell of a lot more in my bed than sleep.” His smoldering eyes sought hers. “If you’re there, you’ll be part of it.” The look he shot her promised things she couldn’t imagine. “You ready to play?”

  An electric ripple erupted at his challenge. Every hair on her body jumped to attention. Everything she’d seen or read about sex came down to this moment. She could hide behind her carefully constructed walls, or show him the woman within.

  Walls crumbled into dust as she slipped off her white doctor’s coat.

  Moving as slowly and as sensually as she could, she placed it over the chair Max had used. She bent so her bottom faced him, then stood and pressed her shoulders back. It made her sweater stretch over the breasts which had always caused her negative attention. She had a different perspective now. His nostrils flared. He sucked air between his near-clenched teeth.

  She sauntered forward, swinging her hips. She stopped in front of the bars and raised her eyes. His were a rich brown flecked with amber. He’d washed, but he still smelled of whiskey. It might be a couple of days before his true scent returned. A hint of spice made her think she’d enjoy it.

  “I’m more than ready,” she murmured. “I want your hands on me. Now.” The flecks glowed, turning an intense gold. Her breath caught. She looked down. His battered knuckles were white from squeezing the bars.

  “You have no idea what you’re asking, Doc.” She had to lean her head forward to hear him.

  “I’m not asking you to touch me, Mr. Frost. I’m demanding it.”

  His deep growl rumbled through her chest as if they were touching. She moved so her toes touched the metal bar that ran along the floor. Her breasts fit between the bars. Her nipples, barely covered by her lace bra and sweater, touched his bare skin. His heat seared her. From the way his breath rasped, he liked what pressed into him.

  “I hear you’ve sworn you’ll never to marry because you refuse to be tied down,” she said.

  “That’s right.” He narrowed his eyes. “So don’t be getting any ideas.”

  She rubbed her nipples back and forth over his naked chest, loving the lighting zapping her. He hissed and closed his eyes as if in agony. She lowered her voice even more, making it as sultry as those movies with Marilyn Monroe or Mae West.

  “Oh, I’ve got ideas, Mr. Frost. But they have nothing to do with marriage. All I want from you is hot sex. Lots of it.”

  His eyes blazed with fire. He caught both her nipples between his thumbs and fingers and pinched. A jolt of lust slammed through her. She grabbed the bars, arching her back and silently begging for more. He did it again, harder. This jolt had a slight touch of pain that made her moan in need.

  “The only one who’ll be tied down is you.”

  “What?” She gasped the word. She had a vision of being blindfolded on his huge bed, arms and legs spread and tied so he could take whatever he wanted.

  As he spoke he ran his flat palm over her breast, then slid the other under her sweater. He teased her, running his fingers along the skin at her waist. Then his fingers dropped between her thighs. He pressed her skirt tight against her. Nothing existed but the touch of his fingers over her clit. They kept rubbing as her nerves tightened down to that one spot.

  Then he released her and stepped back.

  “Oh, God, don’t stop!”

  “You want any more, you spring me from jail.” His voice was so full of gravel that he had to clear his throat. “Then we’ll have a talk about rules. My rules.”

  His words brought reality crashing down. She found herself clutching the bars with knuckles as white as his had been. She clung, leaning her forehead against the metal to try to cool her hot face.

  “Rules?” She couldn’t manage more than whisper.

  “You can be as commanding as you like at work, but when you’re with me, I’m in charge. That means you obey me.” He leaned close and lowered his voice. “In everything.”

  Another jolt slammed through her as his fingers pinched her nipple. Other ones found her clit. A high-pitched hissing noise filled her ears as her orgasm swelled. She pushed her groin into him, panting too hard to speak, demanding more. Then he was gone. She groaned in need.

  “You’re leaving me like this?”

  “You’re not getting a reward until I get mine.”

  Since she was looking down she couldn’t miss him adjust himself. He cursed, unbuttoned and unzipped, then rearranged his cock. It pointed up. The wet, winking eye rose beyond his waistband. When he’d entered her, she was sure he was the size of a baseball bat. He’d gone slow and she was so aroused the stretch was pleasurable. But because of her arousal, and the fact she lay on her back, a lot of what they’d done yesterday was a blur of need and release. Not so today. She had a clear view of what she wanted.

  He pulled his undershorts over his cock to protect himself and carefully zipped. It didn’t hide the evidence of his arousal.

  “You’re so big,” she whispered, more to herself.

  “Yep. All over. You got a problem with that?” he demanded aggressively.

  She shook her head. She’d been rejected for her size, and likely so had he. A man with a cock that big would have problems finding a woman to match. Those hard muscles, the ones which had carried her as easily as a sack of potatoes yesterday, would frighten many women. So would his deep, demanding voice.

  But those things made her want him even more.

  She wanted a big man, one who would fill her, body, mind, and soul. As a physician she knew vaginas could expand to match most cocks. His, however, was more than extra large. Instead of frightening her, it made her wet. He was built for a woman her size. He’d proven it yesterday.

  His voice and manner were harder today. Sober, and likely hung over, he was far more controlled than the eager, smiling man who’d bedded her. As a virgin, she’d needed that easygoing man. Now she was ready for a commanding man, just like the ones in her fantasies. But would he take charge of her, meeting her craving for dominance and control? He did suggest he’d tie her up. It wasn’t by chance that each corner of his bed had a post screwed into the ceiling.

  “No, problem, Mr. Frost. I think your size is more of a bonus. I want a man big enough to, um, hold me.” She mentally cursed herself for chickening out.

  “Hold you?” he murmured. “Or hold you down while I spank your bare ass?”

  She inhaled as another jolt hit her. He growled, low in his throat, and pulled her to him. The cool bars made a pattern contrasting to his heat. Her pussy lined up with the ridge of his cock. Her breasts rubbed his chest. Or would have if the bars weren’t there.

  “If you disobey me,” he whispered into her ear, “I will haul you over my lap, lift your skirt, and turn your naked ass red. Your pussy will get all wet, wanting my cock to take you. And I will take you,�
� he added, his voice louder in emphasis, “however and whenever I want. Your body will belong to me. Mouth, pussy, and ass. And no matter how much you want it, you will come only when I give you permission.”

  He gripped the short hair over her ears and tugged until she met his eyes. They pierced her like nothing before. She felt exposed, as if he’d looked into the dark corners of her mind.

  “There’s only one rule you need to remember. And that is to obey me, in everything. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said, gasping.

  His fingers tightened. She squeaked at the sharp tug.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she amended, barely getting the words out between pants. He instantly released her hair.

  “Good girl.” He rewarded her with fingers stroking her clit over her skirt. “If you obey me for the rest of the day, I’ll let you come tonight.”

  Her mind was in too much of a fog to process his words. He nuzzled her face, leaving a trail of light kisses. He’d just brushed his rough lips against her swollen ones when the metal door behind her clanged open. She tried to jump back, but he held her still.

  “You’ve got lousy timing, my friend.”

  “Hey, I’m a natural,” replied Max. “I see you’re working things out.”

  Nikki pushed on the bars. Eric released her. She managed to step back without tripping. Her head spun at the storm of hormones flooding her body. She’d thought she knew what it was like to be horny. Her previous knowledge was like skim milk compared to this whipped cream froth of arousal.

  Whipped cream. That’s what she wanted him to lick from her breasts.

  Max chuckled. “Doc? You want me to lock you in with my prisoner and keep you here awhile?”

  Eric growled something too low for Nikki to hear. Max’s sudden snort must mean he understood the man-talk they shared.

  “Nikki needs help moving her stuff into my place,” said Eric. “Is my truck where I left it?” He rolled out his shoulders, frowning. “Where did I leave it?”

  “Right in front of the Roadhouse,” replied Max. “While you drank yourself some Jack courage you hollered for me to meet you in Pioneer Park. Things were just getting interesting when the doc waded in.” Max grinned. “You took one look at her and stared. All it took was a right to the jaw and you were gone.”

  Eric winced. “Anybody watching?”

  “Nah,” said Max, shaking his head while he chuckled. “Not unless you count the whole town.”

  * * * *

  “Got a few things to say before I let you out,” said Max to Eric. He’d already escorted Nikki to the front office to wait, leaving Eric cooling his heels. They were the only part of him that wasn’t white hot with the need to get Nikki naked.

  “Talk,” ordered Eric.

  “You’re not driving. I’m giving the keys to the doc.”

  “Like hell!” Eric glared through the bars. “Nobody touches my ride except Matt!”

  Max switched his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “Then you can wait here while Kenny helps Nikki move. He and the doc get along just fine.”

  Eric tamped down his rage. It was one thing for Nikki to drive his truck. Quite another for Kenny to get near her. He’d waited too damn long to find a woman who wanted something beyond vanilla sex. Once Matt got in on the game, Nikki might change her tune about permanence. He was fine with Matt marrying Nikki. Better than fine. It would make things perfect. He’d have a well-trained sub eager for his touch whenever he stopped by. No strings, just good times. And his brother would finally be settled and happy.

  He’d have to spin some strategy into the situation with Max. The sheriff was not going to let him out unless he let Nikki drive his truck. She’d been in town long enough to know such a thing was not acceptable. He would use that to his advantage. He’d wait until she was relaxed and then inform her she’d be spanked for it. How she reacted would determine what happened next. If she was a true sub, she’d be afraid, unsure, and eager, all at once. He needed her to trust him, and that meant following through on punishments as well as rewards.

  “Give her the keys and let me out,” he replied. “After we move her stuff, Nikki’s going to wash my back. About an hour later, I’ll wash hers.”

  Max shook his head. He wasn’t acting the sheriff now. He was the buddy who liked to twist Eric’s tail.

  “Not so fast,” said Max. “Even if Nikki’s agreeable to joining you in bed, it’s Sunday.”

  “So? Around here we work no matter the day. We can play just as hard.”

  “Sundays are for family,” explained Max. “Marci makes a huge dinner. Lance and Simon want to see you, and if Marci’s anything like my Ellie, she’ll want to have a visit with her sister. That means you’ll have to wait.”

  Like many of the Valley women, Max’s wife and her sisters regularly got together for gab fests while they baked or sewed or whatever else they got up to. The new Mrs. MacDougal would be no different. He’d just have to keep his pecker in his pants for a few more hours.

  Eric readjusted his plans due to the intake of new data. Heading out to the MD Connected would give him a chance to see his buddies as well as watch Nikki with her sister. He would catalogue her ways, learning the nuances that would allow him to guide and train her to serve him.

  “I could use a good home-cooked meal.” Eric could tell Max had more to say. “Get on with it. I want out.”

  “Marci will have also invited Aggie and her family. I suggest you have a talk with Keith and Lance about Nikki.” The toothpick shifted again. “Keith saw her talking with Aggie after the wedding. He called Aggie to him. Nikki was all eyes as he gave his wife a touch of command.”

  “And?”

  Max made a show of looking at his open palm. Eric had seen Keith use the same signal on Aggie. No words needed to be spoken, but the woman knew exactly what she’d be in for as soon as her man had her alone. It kept her color high and her eyes bright.

  “Doc’s all wound up with nowhere to release her tension.”

  “Noticed that,” replied Eric with the same tone of indifference.

  “She doesn’t want anything permanent.”

  “So I hear.”

  “Figured you might be just what she needs. But if you harm her, the women of this town will hang your balls from the courthouse door like a bunch of mistletoe.”

  Eric winced at the image. He noted Max’s choice of words. He would never harm a woman, but he was looking forward to showing Nikki how a bit of pain could push her orgasm higher. Max had suggested he’d done it with Ellie as Keith had with Aggie, and now Lance was doing with Marci.

  Just as the Valley women liked to natter with each other, the men also communicated. That didn’t mean they spoke about their wives, as a nod or an eyebrow lift would silently pass a message that their women didn’t notice.

  Just as it had been back in 1870s, ranchers in Tanner’s Ford Valley did things their own way. They chose women who were intelligent, with strong personalities who refused to bend to someone they considered inferior. Of course, they had to test their men to ensure they’d chosen correctly. That meant pushing and prodding like a rebellious teenager eager for the punishment that would prove they were loved.

  If a man gave in and let the woman walk all over him, she’d keep on walking, right out of his life. But if he proved she could trust him to protect and provide for her, forcing her to obey him the way she needed deep inside, she would be his forever.

  “By the time Matt comes home she’ll be purring like a kitten,” he said.

  “Or screaming like a wildcat.”

  “Oh, she’ll scream,” said Eric with satisfaction. “Loud and long as my hand spanks her bare ass. And when I flip her over, she’ll scream about something else. And she’ll love every minute of it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nikki waited ten long minutes before Max brought Eric out of the back of the police station. She was absently reading posters for missing childre
n when the sound of boots made her turn. Her stomach dropped as her pulse raced.

  Oh, lord. What had she got herself into?

  Eric had put his cowboy boots on but was still naked above the waist. Gloriously naked. Gloriously male, decorated with the marks of battle. Oh, yes, he was a prime specimen whose head barely cleared the door. Same with his shoulders. Broad, tanned, pussy-wetting shoulders above an impressive chest and abdomen. Small nipples hid under brown curls on his pecs. His forearms were large, and his biceps, triceps, and deltoids were…oh my, they are magnificent!

  She couldn’t wait to trace every muscle with her tongue. Or her nipples.

  No, both.

  He was her own personal Conan, at least in the shape of his body. The last few minutes suggested he had the personality to match. He’d seemed to be easygoing yesterday under the influence of alcohol, but not today. He crossed his thick arms over his chest and leaned back on his heels. It thrust his pelvis forward, the tight jeans proving he was certainly interested in her body.

  His commanding position produced a delicious shiver of dread and anticipation. In her fantasies, he’d order her to kneel, naked, with her head down. He’d lock her leather cuffs behind her back, forcing her breasts to jut out.

  Sometimes she meekly obeyed. More often, she refused, forcing him to act.

  Her throat swelled. She opened her mouth to breath as her lungs couldn’t take in the oxygen she required. He watched like the predator he was, cataloguing her every response.

  Could he tell what she was thinking? She reached out a shaking hand, using the wall to keep her upright. She used the excuse of moving to break eye contact.

  Had he found the red lace thong he’d shoved in his pocket yesterday? She squinted at his left pocket but, with his thumb in the top and the fabric tight over his cock, she couldn’t tell if it was still there. Maybe she could offer to do the laundry and remove it before he found it and wondered how it got there.

  “Like what you see, pet?”

  “I’m not your pet,” she replied frostily. “And I was looking at your pocket.”