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The Climax Montana Complete Collection

Page 133

by Reece Butler


  “Believe me, I’d be happy as her legal husband. But you need to marry her.” Houston jabbed his index finger at Jet.

  He knew Houston had grown up with so much money he never thought about it. Lila’s family had pretty much all they wanted. He’d come from nothing, a ward of the state since he was eight. He’d vowed he’d be in control of his life. He returned the index finger jab to Houston, only he drilled it right into his chest.

  “I do not need to marry anyone,” he snarled. “I can, and will, make my own way in the world. I will not be beholden to anyone, ever!”

  Houston rubbed his chest where Jet had stabbed. He slowly shook his head, sighing dramatically.

  “Needing Lila has nothing to do with money, man. You are head over heels in love with her.” He held up his hands to stop Jet from answering. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, too,” he continued. “I don’t have much in family, just my dad, now. But I know where I came from. Some of my ancestors were Texas Rangers, and some were on the other side of the badge. All you know is that your mother gave you up for adoption at birth.”

  Jet shrugged it off, still unable to talk about it. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “You haven’t even looked for your family,” accused Houston. “You’ve been like a tumbleweed, rolling along until you run up against a fence. Well, my friend, you just tumbled into a brick wall named Lila Frost. It’s time to put down your roots. You belong here.”

  Jet couldn’t deny it. He loved the Circle C, Tanner’s Ford Valley, and the town. The men were honorable, and the women were strong. They worked together as a community. He almost felt as if he belonged here. It was a first for him. To belong, to have a place no one could take from him. It was all he’d wanted. But he had to earn it. He was not going to marry a woman in order to gain a home.

  “What about you?” he demanded. “Do you want to stay here?”

  “Hell, yeah!” replied Houston. “I don’t want to live anywhere else.” His eyes went back to the mountains. “If I marry Lila I’d legally connect our children to my mother and the rest of them. I can’t do that, Jet.” He turned back. “Marry Lila, and give us all what we want.”

  Jet had been willing to give her up for the benefit of them all. But if Lila wanted him, Jet would marry her in an instant. He wanted their names linked, to have the same name as their children. He wanted to be a part of this community. Yes, he wanted his own business, but that was before he learned about love. Lila had squirmed her way past all his roadblocks and into his heart.

  He knew what he could offer, other than his ability as a ranch hand and lover. Lila had the organizational skills of a butterfly. He, however, specialized in logistics. He’d had to be aware and alert with an excellent memory to get through school when he moved so often. The army had trained him. It didn’t matter if it was ammunition or cattle, the spreadsheets were done the same.

  There was nothing wrong with him putting his business sense and physical ability into the Circle C. It wasn’t as if he’d be taking profits out, as he would with his own business. Everything and everyone put their all into the ranch, and got what they needed back. Lila would continue to inherit, and her children afterward. He enjoyed making things work right using the system as much as possible, and going around it when necessary. He admitted he had a need for control in all things. In this environment, it wasn’t a bad thing. Especially with a woman such as Lila, who needed a calming, strong hand at the reins.

  Houston had an ease with people and networking skills, known locally as horse trading. He was known to walk into a bar just as a fight was about to erupt and within minutes have the situation defused. He’d lost some of that in-your-face attitude after the accident, but it was coming back. He hadn’t been in town often, but most people no longer took an extra look at his face. They didn’t pretend to ignore it, either, commenting on how well he was healing.

  In other words, they treated him as one of them, scars and all.

  Lila couldn’t run the Circle C alone. With luck, her parents would keep their good health, and be around for many years. But did they want to continue the hard daily grind? From what he’d overheard, they wanted to start some sort of business cooperative over the Internet. They couldn’t do it if they were ranching full time. Lila could hire workers but they wouldn’t give that extra effort that came from belonging.

  Lila needed him, and Houston, as much as they needed her. Not to take over her position, but to stand beside or behind her, depending on the situation.

  And, on occasion, to put her over their knee and show her the error of her ways. She was surrounded by strong men, but her fathers, uncles, and cousins did not push back the way she needed. Only a husband, and his partner, could put her in the place she wanted to be, strong and powerful, with men who would not back down. Men who would take her in hand whenever necessary. Lila needed a husband and he wanted to be that man!

  “Lila needs a strong husband’s hand on her ass,” said Houston, echoing Jet’s thoughts. “You can be the tough one, and I’ll be the fun-loving one.”

  “I’ll go along with that.”

  “The other reason for you to marry Lila is the family name. You said you wouldn’t mind changing your name to Frost, but there’s no way I’m going to change mine.” He beamed. “Mostly because it’ll bug the crap out of my mother to keep it, live here, and create a few of Lila’s kids.”

  Kids. Jet sat on the step with a thump. He rested his elbows on his knees, letting his hands hang. His life road had forked again, presenting him with an option he’d once ruled out.

  “You’ll still be part of whatever this is called?”

  “They call it a triad, and yes, I will.” Houston slapped Jet on the back, hard, before sitting beside him. “Lila needs your strength and pigheadedness and my sense of fun. Of course,” he added with a leer, “I am by far a better lover.”

  Something bubbled up in Jet’s chest. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt good. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he knocked his shoulder into Houston’s. His buddy rolled sideways onto his elbow, laughing.

  “Better lover?” demanded Jet. “You are so full of it!”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  They fell silent. Jet inhaled, all the way down. The sky looked even bluer, the mountains clearer and closer. This was a good place to be. This was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life, with the people he wanted to be with. The place where, some day, he would raise his children. In this valley, he’d never be alone again.

  Houston kicked Jet’s foot. “One problem, and it’s a big one.”

  Jet felt too good to hit back. “What?”

  “Lila has to say yes. When she gets in one of those moods, she’s liable to bite off her nose to spite your face. Does she know that marrying you includes her submission?”

  “If she lets us spank her, she’s already submitted.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’ll agree to marry you. What if we spank the lady’s butt until it’s hot and red and her pussy’s desperate for a hard cock? We keep her just off the boil until she agrees to a wedding.”

  “She’ll be safe,” said Jet, “but what happened to sane and consensual?”

  “We won’t hold her to it. Her acceptance will be part of the scene, but she’ll hear herself saying it. That will get her subconscious going our way.”

  “You think if she hears herself saying she’ll marry me, she might agree later.”

  “Exactly,” replied Houston. “She tries to pretend otherwise, but Lila wants a masterful man or two. We could help her learn to control herself, rather than letting things happen, the way she does now.”

  “I want Lila to choose me as her husband without putting pressure on her.” Jet’s voice hardened. “But make no mistake, she will be married before that baby is born.”

  “When will you tell her you love her?”

  Jet almost swallowed his tongue. “What?”

  Houston sighed melodramatically. “Sounds like y
ou need to chew on that for a while first.”

  Jet had barely agreed with himself that he loved Lila. He wasn’t ready to tell her. He pushed it to the back of his brain with the issue of his birth family. He mentally filed them under “things to think about when there’s nothing else to do.” Since that never happened on a ranch, he had a while before he had to deal with them. Instead, he focused on the job at hand.

  “We’re wasting time.” He stood, but Houston slumped.

  “Shit. I gotta leave with the sheriff. Dad said he’d send the paperwork to clear the charge, but that could take a few hours.” He looked around. “Where’s Gibson?”

  “Josh is doing paperwork in the barn office for the next two hours.” Jet slapped Houston on the shoulder. “I think he expects us to settle his wild cousin. Permanently. He wants that baby to have a couple of fathers.”

  Houston’s face lit up. “You know what that means, right?”

  Jet gave him an impatient look. Houston rolled his eyes.

  “Lila can’t get pregnant, because she already is,” said Houston as if explaining something to a dunce. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve gone bareback once, and it was that first time with Lila. She-it,” he said, shaking his head and grinning. “That was so fine!”

  “Never done it.”

  He’d always worn protection, making sure there’d be no kids to grow up as miserable as him. The thought of his naked cock sliding into Lila’s pussy, skin to skin, had him groaning.

  “Then it’s past time. The lady should be eager for her punishment by now.”

  Houston elbowed Jet out of the way and hurried through the door. Jet found himself smiling as he followed his buddy.

  They sobered up in the kitchen as they removed their boots. Lila was to be punished, and they took such things seriously. She had no excuse for what she’d done. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know about the threat from Tank. They’d told her not to leave. She’d promised, then immediately broken that promise. How had she grown up on a ranch without understanding safety?

  Lila was about to learn that her men could be even more hardnosed than her fathers. Her bedroom door was shut. Houston opened it, stepping away to let Jet go first. Lila didn’t move. They moved quietly, sock feet on carpet, but she wasn’t aware of them.

  “She’s zonked out,” whispered Houston.

  Jet stood directly behind her. Her limp limbs were the opposite of his. She had not worn that orange bra and thong under her work clothes. Not only would it have been destroyed by work, a thong would not be comfortable riding Blue. Her hair was loose, spread to one side. He crouched on his haunches for a closer look. Her thong was damp, eager for them. He rested his palm on Lila’s hair, cupping her head. She stirred, sighing. He ran his fingers down her hair to her back and along her spine. She stretched like the mother barn cat who had finally accepted his caress. A smile curved up the corners of her mouth.

  Houston raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Jet nodded. Houston’s steps, and his breathing, became loud. He grabbed Jet’s toy bag and carefully let it drop just past Lila’s head. Because of the chains inside, it clanked. She opened her eyes, mere slits, shuddered, then went still. Her limbs tightened.

  Jet slid his finger under the thin orange lace of her thong, from left hip to right.

  “What part of ‘strip’ do you not understand?” he said, using his Dom voice.

  Her pink tongue darted out, licking dry lips. It took an effort for her to swallow.

  “I think Lila put those pretties on thinking she’d get out of her punishment,” said Houston. He also slid his finger underneath the lace, only he did it from top to under her bottom. “Flame orange goes well with a red ass. You still have that riding crop in your toy bag, Jet?”

  “No!”

  Lila reared up. Houston had expected the response and was ready. He shoved her to the bed with his palm on her back.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered harshly. He released her when she stilled.

  “Please, no crop,” she whispered.

  Jet patted her plump ass cheek, then squeezed gently. Her skin was so soft compared to his hard calluses.

  “I wouldn’t use a crop on this sweet white ass.” He gave her a moment to understand. Her muscles relaxed. “Not without warming it up to a good pink first.”

  Her ass hardened as she clenched, automatically protecting herself. He spoke quietly, in total control. She would have to strain to hear him, keeping her entire attention on his voice.

  “If you move, or try to cover yourself, I will start counting at the beginning again.”

  He skimmed his hand lovingly up her back to the nape of her neck. He grasped a handful of hair and yanked. The stark change of his touch from soft to hard shocked her, as it was supposed to.

  “Do you understand?” His demand was quiet, proving his perfect control.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He yanked harder.

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Ten,” he said crisply. “Each.”

  He spanked her, right cheek, then left, fast, hitting the exact same spots each time. This was not for fun, it was punishment, so he didn’t hold back. By the time he’d given ten spanks on each cheek, her butt was rosy and hot. He let her think he was finished.

  “Thank God that’s over,” she muttered, sinking into the mattress.

  Houston leaned over, putting his mouth near her ear. “Nothing’s over, sugar. You get another ten from me, each cheek.”

  “No!”

  He pushed between her shoulder blades, shoving her down. “What did you say?” He growled, his face inches from hers. While Jet was calm and controlled, Houston was a wild card, ready to explode at any moment. Not knowing what he might do helped keep her focused.

  “No, Sir! Please!” She pleaded with her eyes, but didn’t try to escape.

  “That’s ‘Yes, Sir. More please, Sir.’ Got it?”

  “You want me to ask for more? Are you crazy?” She glared, but kept her face and chest on the bed.

  “You disobeyed a direct order from both of us,” said Jet coldly. “You put your life, and that of our child, in danger.”

  “By riding my horse?” She lifted her head to shoot him a look.

  Jet liked a feisty sub. He didn’t object if she strayed close to a brat now and then, as long as it was part of their play. Disobeying a direct order was something else. She had to know now, right at the beginning, they were serious about such things. She could plead, beg, and even scream all she wanted. As long as she didn’t use her safeword, she was going to have a very sore ass. It would make her remember. That was the point of it. Some subs wanted to please their master so much that a simple look of disappointment would send them crashing to their knees, begging for reassurance. Others worked best with a time out, nose in the corner as they thought about their misdeed.

  Lila would require a subtle touch. She was a complex woman. She regularly controlled large, four-legged beasts with total confidence. She could operate any piece of machinery on the ranch and could back up a thirty-foot horse trailer on a curve, uphill, in the rain. She used her physical strength and her brain to find solutions to problems while riding alone, miles from any help.

  She was knowledgeable and capable on the job. Her personal life was a different matter. For that, she needed guidance and gentle reassurance, all done with a firm hand. She’d grown up with dominant men who were utterly confident in themselves and their abilities. She was not used to the personal, intimate attention provided by a lover. That required trust, built on gentle reassurance and her Dom’s strict, calm control. It was a mental seduction which, done properly, would lead to her find pleasure in her submission.

  Having to know which action to take at any one moment would keep him on his toes.

  He and Houston were experienced Doms, well aware of how closely a sub had to be watched. Though she’d grown up in the culture, Lila was new to the process. She was familiar with pain, as injuries were part of ranc
h life. Purposely applied pain through a spanking was something else. It was to help her, and had a purpose. They could easily turn that edge of pain into pleasure once she yielded to them. They would push her boundaries and she would make them work hard for it.

  Jet and Houston may be her Doms, but Lila was the one in charge of the process. All she had to do was say her safeword and they would immediately stop. That she wasn’t doing it now, even though she complained, meant she accepted this. She was the focus of their attention. After feeling left out for so many years, she acted like she thoroughly enjoyed it.

  “You’re not being punished for riding Blue,” said Houston. “We wouldn’t be doing this if you’d stayed on the Circle C. But you didn’t. You rode cross-country, and put yourself in danger.”

  “Why was going off the ranch a problem?” she demanded. “I know every inch of that land. I’ve been riding it all my life. I know how to take care of myself, and my horse.”

  Houston’s expression said it was time Lila knew something was up. He was right. Jet moved his head a fraction in agreement, and Houston turned back to her.

  “Tank is the reason you couldn’t find a hired hand,” said Jet.

  “I knew that.” She rolled over enough to look from one to the other, eyes narrowed. He allowed it, as she needed to see their faces to understand. “There’s more to it, and you didn’t tell me.”

  “Tank’s plan was to get you desperate for help,” said Houston. “Then he’d show up, all helpful, and you’d take him on.” His voice, and posture, hardened. “He planned to force himself on you. More than once. Without protection.”

  “What?” Her face turned white.

  “He wanted to get you pregnant, Lila,” said Jet bluntly. “He knew you’d want your child, no matter what. He expected the Circle C to pay him well to sign off his rights as a father, and get out of your life, permanently.”

  She pressed a hand over her lower belly. Fear morphed into anger. She went to sit up, but stopped at his glare.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone after him with a pitchfork!”

  “Exactly,” said Houston. “Gibson says the word is he’s attacked a number of people, but is walking around because they’re too afraid to talk to the police. That includes his mother and sister. We agreed to help set him up to assault us. Once he was in jail, Gibson hoped others would come forward.”

 

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