[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Futuristic Sci-Fi Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]
When you have to take an apocalyptic road trip, don’t forget to pack…the Drunk Monkeys.
Capt. Kyong Tran is an orphaned pilot stuck in limbo at a base outside of Seattle, with a plane and no crew. Their presumed deaths during LA’s fall weigh heavily on her conscience, as does the mysterious death of her beloved brother.
Despite initial missteps, Kilo and Foxtrot fall hard for the gorgeous, feisty pilot. The unit needs her—and her plane—to move the scientists and their precious research to a hideout in Florida. Meanwhile, they’re still scouring Seattle for a Kite-infected woman who might hold the key to a vaccine.
With local violence on the rise, Kyong has little time to train three of the men to complete her crew. No easy feat when she might be falling for Kilo and Foxtrot. Can she turn three Drunk Monkeys into flying monkeys in time for them to continue their quest to save the world?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Tymber Dalton is a Siren-exclusive author.
When they pulled up under the shade of the Panda’s starboard wing, she climbed down the stairs and walked over as Mal shut off the Jeep.
“What’s going on, Mal?” she asked as she leaned against the front driver-side fender.
The two guys with him wore nondescript unis that could be civvie clothes, khaki trousers and black T-shirts that looked like they were painted onto their ripped and ready torsos. The one in the backseat had brown eyes, black hair, and caramel skin she wanted to lick from head to toe to see if he tasted as good as he looked. The other was a blond-haired, blue-eyed cutie with a rugged jaw and quiet good looks. She suspected could get pretty loud in the sack, if he wanted.
What? Wait. Idiot.
Yes, it’d been way too long since her last ride in a rack. Over three years. She’d been too damned busy, for starters. Then TMFU hit and the last thing on her mind had been getting laid. She’d never been in the market for a relationship. Well, mostly because the guys she’d slept with weren’t exactly relationship material, or looking for anything more permanent themselves. She’d simply been seeking a good time, a warm body, a temporary diversion.
These two guys hit her radar, hard.
Both men seemed intently focused on her, too.
Obviously, I’m overdue for a psych eval. Sex should be the absolute last thing on my mind right now.
“Want to introduce you to a couple of friends of mine,” Mal said. “This is Foxtrot”—he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the backseat passenger—“and Kilo.” The blond hunk riding shotgun nodded. “Guys, this is Captain Kyong Tran.”
“Nice to see you have friends, Mal,” she said. “Is there a reason for this social call?”
Mal grinned around the toothpick he was currently in the process of pulping. “Remember how I was talking about you maybe getting reassigned?”
“How you feel about joining a SOTIF team?”
Her eyes narrowed as she took another appraising look at the two men Mal had shuttled out to her plane. “What the hell?” Her PT stats were great, but no way in hell could she ever qualify for a SOTIF team.
Not that she wanted to in the first place. That would mean deliberately putting herself in the line of fire, charging into places others ran from. Flying into an unfriendly zone was different than heading in there to the front lines.
“I think you’re off your goddamned rocker, is what I think,” she said.
* * * *
Kilo wished the pilot would take her mirrored sunglasses off so he could get a better look at her face. Somehow, he’d either missed the memo or hadn’t paid close enough attention when Mal was telling them about the Punchy Panda’s pilot on their ride down to the plane. He’d related her stats, that she was thirty-four, a decorated and skilled pilot, experienced, everything they’d need for their mission.
Through all of that, the fact that Captain Tran was a woman had totally escaped Kilo.
Until he’d set eyes on her, that was. Even in her flight coveralls he could make out her slim, athletic build. Around five nine or so, her straight brown hair was pulled into a short braid and pinned into a bun on the back of her head, out of her way.
She was four years older than him, outranked him, and he strongly suspected he’d be trying to plant his dick inside her if he spent too much time around her.
“Look, we need a plane and a pilot,” Kilo said. “From what Mal told us, you’re perfect.”
“I also don’t have a crew. Did he tell you that, or did they start sending you SOTIF guys through flight school and not bother to mention it to the rest of us?”
Aaaand she’s feisty.
When his cock stirred, he fought the urge to adjust his trousers.
He realized Foxtrot had gone uncharacteristically quiet and glanced back at him. His partner’s gaze was anchored on the pilot.
“Do us a favor and come talk to our CO with us,” Kilo said.
“Why should I?”
He got out of the Jeep and motioned for her to follow him a few steps away so he could lower his voice and speak to her out of Mal’s hearing. “We’re on a top-secret mission. it’s no exaggeration that the world is at stake.”
She crossed her arms over her chest while he stared at his own reflection in her mirrored sunglasses. “Isn’t the world always at stake with you SOTIF guys? Look, I’m no warrior. I’m a pilot.”
“And a pilot is exactly what we need. This is all top secret. We’re trying to protect people working on a Kite vaccine. And we need to move them and their research to Florida. You and your plane are perfect. Don’t make us waste valuable time hunting around for another plane and crew to do this, huh? Adding you to our unit will attract a hell of a lot less attention than us sniping another plane and crew from an existing unit elsewhere. And we need a full-time fixed-wing pilot. We have a helo jockey, but while that’s helpful, current events have proven we need more than that.”
Foxtrot walked over and joined them. “Look,” he said, voice low and focused on Kilo, “if she doesn’t want to, I’m sure we can find a better pilot.”
Whether his partner had intended to pull a Roscoe with the woman or not, it had the effect Kilo wanted.
She ripped off her glasses and rose up on her toes to get in Foxtrot’s face. Gorgeous brown, almond-shaped eyes full of ammunition, aimed, primed, and ready to fire on his partner.
“What’s your rank, again, soldier?” she asked, sounding about a hundred pounds heavier and a foot taller than she really was.
Foxtrot leaned back but didn’t give ground. “Um, PFC.”
She jabbed him in the chest with a finger. “Let me tell you something, PFC supersecret guy. I’m a damn good pilot. I can probably outfly most if not all of your choices for your cargo jaunt, so don’t pull that shit with me, you hear?”
“What was that?”
Kilo struggled not to laugh as Foxtrot snapped to attention. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”
Foxtrot was done messing around. He could apologize later for letting Kilo stew this long, but he wanted to get laid, he wanted to show Kyong they were the perfect men to audition for the leading roles of lifetime personal copilots for her, and he wanted it right farking now.
He didn’t bother trying to stay quiet as he walked into their room and flipped on the overhead light, going straight to his duffel.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Kilo complained.
Foxtrot didn’t answer him. He dug through his shower kit until he found what he wanted, then he walked over to Kilo’s bedroll, grabbed him by the hair, and bodily dragged the man out of his rack.
“What the—dude, fuck!” Kilo screamed.
He barely let Kilo get his feet under him as he pulled him down the hallway and back to the bathroom. When he burst through the door, Kyong let out a little squeak of fear, and she jumped, but she was still in the same position he’d left her.
Oh, good girl.
He threw Kilo into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind them, locking it.
Kilo came up, ready to swing until he spotted Kyong sitting there, naked and spread wide open on the counter.
Foxtrot looked at him. “You’re welcome.”
Then Foxtrot stepped over to her, grabbed her hair, and kissed her again. He held up a couple of condoms and a bottle of lube. “You got a five-year?”
“Good. We’re clear. You clear?”
She nodded again.
“You okay with us not using these then?”
“Good. Then I know where we’ll use the condoms.” He put everything on the counter and kissed her again.
Kilo let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a groan. Foxtrot cast a glance at him over his shoulder. “We were clearing the air, asshole,” he said. “If you’d just let me tell you that instead of assuming we were fighting, we might have been able to get this settled a while ago.”
Then he slid two fingers from his free hand along her pussy lips, finding her wet from his earlier teasing. He pressed one against her cunt for entrance and it easily slid in. He also enjoyed the soft moan Kyong made when he did.
He wanted to make her moan like that around his cock.
“You ever have two guys at once, baby?” Foxtrot asked her.
She blushed but shook her head.
Her gorgeous red cheeks deepened in color, but she nodded.
He arched an eyebrow at her. “You like it?”
“Good.” He pulled his finger from her pussy and sucked her juices off it before kissing her again. “Kilo, you can apologize later. Get your ass over here and kiss the lady.” He released her, loving the way she wobbled a little as he did, and shoved his shorts down and off before kneeling between her legs again. He pulled her forward, slinging her thighs over his shoulders, and buried his head in her pussy.
* * * *
Kilo had gone from being sound asleep, to being rudely awakened, to being yanked out of bed by his hair, to…
He wasn’t sure what the fuck this was, was still trying to process everything, but he damn sure wasn’t going to pick now to try to do that, for fuck’s sake.
He walked over to the counter and reached out to stroke Kyong’s cheek. She nuzzled his hand, her eyes staring into his, looking vulnerable and…
Well, gorgeous. Like the most gorgeous woman on the face of the planet.
He leaned in and kissed her. He wasn’t sure if the moan he caught between his lips was from him kissing her, or from something Foxtrot was doing downstairs, but he didn’t care.
Now his cock felt painfully hard, straining for freedom from his shorts, wanting to fuck. Her. Now.
Right. Fucking. Now.
He yanked off his T-shirt and shorts and threw himself into whatever this was with one hundred and ten percent effort. She wrapped her arms around him, her nails deliciously raking down his back when he cupped her breasts in his hands and started playing with her nipples.
Soft, rhythmic gasps rolled from her. He suspected Foxtrot had her close to coming, but then she let out a cry of frustration as Foxtrot stood, her juices glistening on his chin and a smile on his face. “No, baby. Not yet.”
Foxtrot grabbed her by the arm and helped her off the counter. Then he lay down on the floor, pulling her with him and positioning her on top of him sixty-nine.
“Dude,” he said, pointing at the counter. “Lube and condoms. Come on, focus.” Then he pulled her down on top of him and her moan was muffled around his cock in her mouth.
Kilo grabbed the items and circled around behind her, dropping to his knees. “Oh, baby.” He stroked her ass, sliding two fingers into her pussy and finger-fucking her, loving the way her hips flexed as she tried to keep them there when he withdrew them.
He sucked his fingers clean, loving the taste of her already.
He opened the bottle of lube, drizzled it down the seam of her ass and over his fingers, and slowly started rubbing her rim with one finger.
* * * *
“Mm-hmm,” Foxtrot mumbled into Kyong’s pussy when she moaned again at the feel of Kilo’s fingers playing with her ass.
Foxtrot was being frustrating, and she suspected he was doing it on purpose, not letting her get over the edge, slowing down every time she started to get even close to coming.
Then Kilo worked the first finger into her rim. She froze, waiting, whining a little. Yes, it’d been a while, but she knew from experience if she waited, it would feel really good in a minute.
That was when Foxtrot sucked on her clit and shot her into orbit, the sneaky bastard.