The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “Yeah, my parents are going to have a wonderful time while I do the laundry,” she said, grumbling.

  Great. For the first time in her life, she was really, really, horny. Her parents were going to have hot sex, and she’d be thoroughly frustrated, going without.

  “I think you can figure out something more interesting to wash than dirty jeans.” Her mom waggled her eyebrows.

  “What?”

  “As a medical professional, I’m horrified that an injured man is sleeping in a truck in my yard. I want you to take care of him. Because of his injury, Houston will need help climbing the stairs and showering before he can sleep. I expect he’ll need help getting undressed, at least his boots. He also might have problems standing in the shower.” Her mother winked.

  “Did my mother just tell me to seduce an injured man?”

  “This is your chance to have no-strings-attached sex. If Jet intimidates you, his injured friend shouldn’t. You might need to take charge, because Houston won’t be able to do a few things, due to his sore leg. If he’s been in the hospital since he was injured, he might think certain parts don’t work. It would be very helpful of you to show him. Two hours, honey.” Smiling widely, she turned and walked out the door.

  Mom was right. Jet made her shiver, but she was a little bit afraid of approaching him. Not that he’d hurt her, but that he’d overwhelm her. If she could learn what an orgasm felt like when given by a man rather than a vibrator, she’d be more relaxed with Jet. Her mom was a doctor, and understood men well. Houston would heal faster if he was in a positive frame of mind. Sex would make him feel good, and shouldn’t a person always follow doctor’s orders?

  The ache in her pussy started to throb. This was her chance to prove she wasn’t frigid. Though her nipples stood out as if it was January, she wasn’t cold. Houston’s facial scars didn’t bother her. His broad chest certainly did, in a good way. Since he couldn’t walk well, she could always run away if she didn’t like what was happening.

  She’d made some crazy impulsive decisions in her life. She hoped this one would turn out better than most. If all she got out of it was learning her body did react properly with a man, it would be worth it.

  “Once Jet’s gone, if Houston is at all interested, I’m going to have my wicked way with him.”

  Chapter Six

  “We’ll be having supper at the MacDougal ranch tonight,” said Matt to Jet. “I want you and Houston to escort Lila. You’ll meet the whole family at once and get it over with.”

  Matt’s wide smile did not put Jet at ease.

  “Make sure you stop by the clinic first thing,” continued Matt.

  “The army medic checked me out just fine, sir.”

  “I want our doctor to check you out anyway. The Circle C Ranch will cover costs.” Matt gave a slow smile. “We get a discount, since my wife’s been the town doctor for the last twenty-five years.”

  Jet blanched. “Your wife’s not examining me!”

  “Nope. She’s pretty much retired now. It’ll be a test for the new doc.” Matt slapped him on the back. “Welcome to Climax.”

  Jet and Rascal headed to town. He’d checked the grocery list, and made sure there was an insulated cooler for the ice cream. He also had a list for the feed store. Matt said to put everything on the Circle C account. He’d also advanced him one week’s pay, which Jet hadn’t expected but appreciated. He’d pick up some new clothes for tonight, for both of them. He had no doubt Lila’s relatives would give him the third degree. It had been years, but good manners had been beat into him. He could pull a few out to make the next month run smoother.

  Houston was the opposite. He’d learned how to behave at a white tuxedo, sit-down meal with the President, though he’d rather act the good ol’ Texas country boy.

  Jet had just passed the sign welcoming him to Climax when a black SUV came toward him. He wasn’t surprised when it pulled a U-turn and came up behind him, lights flashing. After all, he was a stranger driving a local truck. He pulled over, put down the window, and turned off the engine. He set both hands on the wheel and waited for the local law to harass him.

  He watched in the rearview mirror as the sheriff approached. He’d run into small town law often enough to learn many were badge-carrying bullies. Jet looked for the swagger that showed the belief that any man carrying a badge had the right to whatever he wanted, especially from strangers. Instead, this man walked with confidence, both hands swinging loosely at his sides. The sheriff rested his right hand on the door behind Jet’s head. He leaned over, his eyes sweeping inside the truck.

  “Afternoon, sheriff,” said Jet pleasantly. “Something I can help you with?”

  “Name’s Gibson. Let’s start with your license, registration, and proof of insurance, Mr. Quartermain.”

  He didn’t think Lila would have called the cops on him. That meant Matt must’ve given the heads up.

  “News travels fast,” he replied.

  The seemingly simple statement could be taken as a challenge, which it was. The sheriff’s reaction would say a lot about his attitude.

  “It’s my town.”

  The mild reply was both a warning and a statement of fact. Jet was to know that if he took a wrong step, the sheriff would learn about it almost immediately.

  “Understood,” replied Jet with a nod. “Mind if I reach for my wallet? It’s in my back right pocket.”

  “You carrying?”

  “No drugs or weapons, unless you count Rascal here.” The dog thumped his tail at his mention of his name.

  “Lila’s dog is a mark in your favor.”

  The sheriff held out his palm, so Jet carefully reached for his wallet. He removed the papers, holding them out with two fingers.

  “Is this when you warn me to toe the line, not to touch any of the local women or get in a bar fight, or you’ll tar and feather me and run me out of town?”

  “Haven’t used tar and feathers since my great-grandpa’s time.” The sheriff took a good look before handing things back. Jet put them back in his wallet. “You’ll be staying with my cousin, living in her home with her parents away. You’re damn right I’m going to keep a close eye on you. Mom plucks a chicken for Sunday dinner. I’ll tell her to save the feathers just in case.”

  Sheriff Gibson didn’t crack a smile. Jet had not expected him to have a sense of humor, much less a dry wit. After meeting Tom and Dorothy White, Matt Frost, and now the sheriff, he’d have to stop making assumptions about the locals. Climax was nothing like where he’d spent his teen years. He might even enjoy his time here.

  “Your mom won’t need to hand over those feathers,” he replied. “I don’t intend to get in any trouble.”

  “Most people don’t, but things happen anyway. Mind if I give you a bit of advice?”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “You’ve got an attitude and a smart mouth.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  The wide smile was unexpected. So was the hand held out to shake. The grip was strong enough to test, but not to crush.

  “You take care of Lila, and you’ll do fine. Need I say more?”

  “No, sir. I got it.”

  “I’d better see your truck parked in front of the medical center in the next ten minutes.”

  Jet coughed to cover a laugh. “Been a long time since I lived in a small town.”

  “I grew up here. Can’t hide much from me, especially when my father, Judge Max Gibson, was the previous sheriff, and his dad before him.” He gave Jet a sharp look. “Each one of us earned it.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  Gibson backed up two steps. “I’m keeping an eye out for Jefferson, but don’t tell Lila. She doesn’t know the whole story and it’s best to keep it that way. Tank’s grown a lot, learned some, and is even meaner than before. Lila won’t think of that, she’ll just charge at him, fists flying, like she did in high school.”

  Tom White, the owner of the roadhouse, must have called the
sheriff right away with the details. A diner was the perfect place to hear, and start, rumors.

  “He won’t be getting near the lady. Not with me and Houston around.”

  The sheriff nodded once, abruptly. “I’m counting on that. Welcome to Climax, Mr. Quartermain.”

  Jet gave Rascal a rub, taking his time starting the truck. He waited as Gibson backed up, pulled another U-turn, and was gone. Jet was impressed with the man. Towns elected officials who matched their morals and ethics. His were high, which was the main reason he’d had a few issues in the army. He relaxed in the seat. Meeting Gibson right off had given him a good clue about the place.

  Unlike many of the small towns he’d passed through on his way north, this one didn’t look close to death. None of the stores were boarded over. Some were even freshly painted, with bright flowers set out in pots on the sidewalk. A few buildings were made of squared logs with those false fronts to make them look as if they were two stories high. They looked like they’d been there forever, though they had modern foundations. Had they been moved from somewhere else? One was the Tanner’s Ford Mercantile. He could use some new work clothes, and decided to stop in after seeing the doctor. He passed the Climax Roadhouse, and then saw the sign for the clinic.

  “If I leave the window open will you be all right?” he asked. Rascal stretched his legs, yawned, then curled up again. “I guess that answers the question.”

  When Jet got back in the truck he’d been poked and prodded, had blood taken, and been touched in places no woman had seen in far too long. The only good news was that the female doctor wasn’t Lila’s mother. They’d shown him the form to get his permission for the blood tests. The doc had ticked off everything from sexually transmitted diseases to hepatitis and tuberculosis. He wouldn’t be surprised if rabies was on the list as well.

  He looked in the open window at Rascal, who didn’t crack an eyelid, and went in the Mercantile, figuring to get that and the feed store out of the way before groceries. Matt said Lila wanted some special type of chocolate ice cream, so that would be last. He picked out Wranglers, T-shirts, boxers, wool socks, and a couple of long-sleeved thick work shirts for each of them. He eyed a pair of cowboy boots but didn’t have the cash. His old steel-toes would have to do. He added bright plaid rodeo-style shirts for that evening. He laid the lot on the table in front of the older man working the cash and reached for his wallet.

  “This all goes on the Circle C ranch account.”

  “I pay my way, sir.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Matt said your first set of work clothes was on the Circle C. Out here you’re either trusted or you’re tarred and feathered and rode out of town. You’ll pay for those Saturday night shirts, though.”

  “Sheriff Gibson says it’s been a few years since he’s had to run someone out of town,” replied Jet.

  “You can be the first.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lila wiped her hands on the sides of her jeans as she walked toward the rusty pickup. Her parents had headed up the trail, hand in hand on horseback, ten minutes earlier. She went to the driver’s side so she’d be able to see all of Houston. Plus, if he was awake he’d be able to see her without twisting his neck. She was still aroused from Jet’s kiss, and eager to see if Houston was as good at the job. The window was open, so she leaned her elbow on the edge and checked him out.

  Straggly blond hair and beard. He slept on his right side, his back against the seat. That put his left side up. His face wasn’t pretty, but he was alive and, with care, would be healthy again. His body was…very nice. Wide shoulders, sturdy thighs and long, narrow cowboy boots. The soles faced her. They were well used, but not abused.

  Yes, Mister Houston might be of more use to her than just fixing tractors and trucks. Just looking at him made her motor hum. She could certainly use a valve job. The tingling spread from her pussy up into her belly.

  “It’s five bucks to stare at the freak.”

  Rudely yanked from her erotic daydreams, she acted on impulse. “Don’t you call me a freak!”

  He got up on one elbow. His eyes were a light color, and pierced her.

  “I was talking about me.”

  Houston’s rough voice wasn’t quite as deep as Jet’s, but it was easy to listen to.

  “Oh.” She refused to feel embarrassed. “Someone I dislike very much called me that.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes dropped to window height, which meant he stared at her breasts. Her swollen, aching-to-be-touched breasts.

  “Tank said I wanted to be a man and called me Freaky Frost. I said he wasn’t enough of a man and called him Septic Tank, because he was full of it.”

  A sound, more like a croak than a laugh, erupted from him. It brought on coughing, forcing him to sit up. His head almost touched the roof of the truck. He was only eighteen inches away now. Her temperature shot up thirty degrees.

  “Darlin’, from what I can see, you’re all woman.”

  Her heart sped up. Jet had kissed her, but she wanted more. She was inexperienced, but she could seduce Houston. She looked him over, making it obvious.

  “I like what I see, too,” she said. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if waiting for another line, this one sarcastic. “Yes, you’ve got scars, but so do most people. Yours just happen to be on the outside.”

  “You’ve got scars, pretty girl?”

  Her hand automatically went to her crooked nose. “My name’s Lila. I’m the ranch boss. I hired Jet for a month to start, and he said you’re a package deal. Welcome to the Circle C Ranch.”

  “Thank God for that,” he muttered. He squared his shoulders. “I’m Houston, ma’am. Pleased to meetcha. Who’d you beat up to get that bump on your nose? From the muscle on your arm, I’m thinking you won.”

  “No, I lost.” He raised his eyebrows in skepticism, so she explained. “I only made one point two seconds, so the bull won.” He stared right at her, obviously expecting more. “I broke my nose when a bull tossed me. He almost gored my belly, but he turned at the last tenth of a second and just caught the tip of my upper thigh. It left a scar.”

  His eyes blazed. “I’d like to see your scar.”

  She avoided answering by shoving up her cuff and holding out her left arm.

  “Here’s one. I was stringing barbed wire when it broke and flew back at me. It missed my face, but it hit my arm and got tangled in my braid and clothes. Papa had to cut it out in pieces.”

  He gently took her arm, lifting it from underneath. Strong, hard-tipped fingers slid up the soft skin of her inner arm. Her whole body shivered. He stared her in the eyes as he lifted her arm toward his mouth. Soft, gentle lips kissed her scar.

  She was going to have to change her panties. And her jeans. And her bra was way too tight to let her breathe.

  “Can I kiss the one on your thigh better, too?”

  His offer was blatant. She would behave the same. She had to get control back, and to do that she had to get his hands off her. He resisted for a second then released her.

  “Does, um, everything work?” she asked.

  She’d shocked him, but he recovered quickly. His smile started slow and ended up brilliant. “The docs said I’d be fine. One look at you and there was no problem with my hydraulics. Want to do a trial run?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him, making him laugh. It was either that or tell him “hell, yeah!” She yanked on the door, expecting it to be rusty. It came open so fast she stumbled. Dammit! So much for seduction! Houston didn’t laugh, just shuffled across the seat as if he hadn’t noticed. He grunted when he bent over to pick up a heavy wooden cane from the floor. He pointed at her boots.

  “Those are nice shit kickers. You like dancing, pretty girl?”

  There was a sparkle in his blue-gray eyes, and lines of pain and exhaustion around his mouth. He was hurting, yet still flirting. She held out an elbow.

  “Your doctor gave me orders, and I’m going to follow them.”

  H
is good humor vanished. “I’ve had enough of docs.”

  She scowled back. “Too bad. My mom’s the town doctor, so she’s automatically yours.” She held her elbow out again. “Mom doesn’t take it very well when patients don’t listen to her orders. If you want to work here, I suggest we do what she says.”

  “Where’s Jet?”

  “Papa sent him to town for supplies.”

  He looked at her, assessing. His grin was back, making her pussy hum.

  “Just how much help you gonna give me to shuck these dirty clothes and get clean?”

  She took a deep breath and stared back. “How much woman can you handle?”

  His eyelids drooped in that sexy bedroom gaze she’d read about. It did the same thing to her panties that it did to those heroines.

  “I can handle whatever you got, baby girl.”

  She nodded briskly, trying to hide how fast her heart was pumping. “No strings attached. Just whatever happens while you’re here.”

  “Sounds good to me. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  He took her arm and escaped the truck. They took a couple steps away and she pushed the door shut. He looked toward the house.

  “Who’s inside?”

  “Nobody but us for two hours.”

  “Only two hours? We better get going.” He tugged her forward.

  “How long a shower do you need?”

  He stopped and looked down at her. He definitely needed a shower, but he was five inches taller and turned her on. He leaned until his mouth was near her ear.

  “Darlin’, it’s not the getting clean that takes the time,” he whispered. “It’s the tucking me into bed and puttin’ me to sleep.”

  Her pussy flooded. She had to grip him to stop from swaying. He chuckled, and tugged her forward. By the time they got to the top of the stairs she was leading and he was breathing hard from the effort. She could put him in one of her brothers’ rooms, but her shower was bigger. And her bed was right there.

  “I’m taking you into my shower because it has a seat,” she said, bringing him through the first door on the left. “It’s not safe for you to stand while you wash.”