The Song Bird (MMF)
[Ménage Amour: Erotic Historical Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, with M/M, HEA]
Avilon Chambert travels to the wild city of San Francisco to find her missing sister. All she has is a letter explaining she’s in terrible trouble and that she’s been working as an upstairs girl in a club owned by two handsome men, Eli Masters and Jason Braddock.
When she arrives at the club, the only way she can get to talk to them is by auditioning for the singing position, and she captivates them by her beautiful operatic voice. But the answers to her questions are vague and filled with holes, rousing her suspicions.
Her arrival at the club sets off a chain of events filled with danger. As she grows closer to Eli and Jason, the search for her sister unleashes the wrath of a madman bent of revenge, threatening to destroy everything and everyone she’s come to love.
A Siren Erotic Romance
“We have another girl to audition,” Jason informed the room of people.
Avilon saw several women roll their eyes while others snickered and nudged each other. She came to a stop.
“Who else auditioned for the singing position?” she asked.
All of them raised a hand. She bit her lip, gripping her cloak tightly. It was the only recourse she had to fight off her anxiety.
“Here you go, Avilon,” Jason murmured, gesturing to the stage.
“I have to sing in front of everyone?” she whispered, aghast.
“That’s kind of the definition of a singer, eh?” murmured one woman sarcastically as she flipped her red hair over her shoulder.
The others laughed.
Avilon looked at each girl, seeing flinty eyes, under kohl-painted lids, staring unpleasantly back at her. There were eight women total, most a tad too thin beneath their threadbare wraps. All had the unhealthy pallor of spending too much time indoors, the world-weary glower of abuse clinging to them like sour perfume.
“Did you bring us a mute singer, Jace?” another girl asked, causing all of them to laugh.
“Now, girls, give Avilon a chance,” Jason said, holding a hand up.
“Avilon, eh? Well, dearie,” said one particular voluptuous blonde in front, “the stage is up there. Have a go.”
Avilon took a deep breath and grounded herself. She’d had to do that a lot over the past few months as she traveled from Europe to Louisiana to San Francisco. It helped calm her nerves and quell the butterflies in her stomach. On hesitant feet, she climbed the stairs to the stage and nodded at the piano man who sat waiting for her song choice. He was a solemn-faced black man, the carved grooves on his face placing his age anywhere between twenty and fifty.
“Do you happen to know ‘Amazing Grace’? The new British melody?”
When he nodded, she smiled tentatively.
“Thank you. I’m a soprano,” she added as a side thought. Absently she noted the instrument was a Pleyel grand, and though it was an older model, it was still nicely maintained, as evidenced by the crystal-clear sound coming from its wires.
Avilon stood in the center of the stage, closed her eyes, and sang. Her light, airy voice carried the notes as piously as possible.
“Stop,” came a harsh voice from the back of the room.
The piano music immediately halted, and Avilon opened her eyes.
“This is not church,” the voice said again.
Avilon squinted as she searched the dark corners for the owner of the voice.
“As lovely as you sing, I think you’ve come to the wrong building. The nearest church is about five blocks away. Good day.”
“Wait!” she called out in a panicked voice. Unthinkingly, she raised her hand in some type of appeal, and her cloak opened. “Please, before I go, I need to speak with Mr. Masters. I’ve come such a long way—”
“Take off the cloak,” the man ordered.
“What part of that command did you not understand?”
“The part where it was a command,” she retorted and saw the blonde woman flash a grin. “Just who are you to order me about?”
There was a slight pause. “I’m the man who’s going to hire you if you can sing.”
Avilon bit her lip. Did that mean the voice belonged to Eli Masters?
“Does my reputation precede me?”
She closed her eyes for brief a moment. Of course he is Eli Masters. “I’m only here to ask you a few questions.”
“And I’m only here to find me a singer. If you’re interested, then take off the cloak.”
This time she didn’t think twice about flipping the hood of her cloak down and untying it. With a flick of her wrist, she draped it over her arm.
“Now unbind your hair.”
“I don’t understand how unbinding my hair will help my singing.”
A figure rose from one of the back booths and walked toward the stage. As he neared, the first thing she noticed was his height. He was about the same height as Mr. Braddock, but the width of his broad shoulders made him seem enormous. There was not one ounce of softness in his features or grace in his step as he lumbered forward to stand at the bottom of the raised platform and stare up at her.
Dark hair curled around his head and fell to his collar in a sheet of glossy waves. It was much too thick and long to be considered fashionable, but Avilon had the feeling that he didn’t care a whit about what was trendy. He wasn’t what one would call classically handsome, but there was something arresting about him. A deep worldliness seemed to have settled upon him, as if he had seen much of life and had ceased to find anything amusing. His eyes were such a light blue that they appeared almost colorless in the dim lighting, and they stared at her harshly, his mouth an angry slash of lips pressed together.
“You’d be surprised how letting down your hair helps loosen that stick up your ass.”
Avilon felt her eyes stretch wide in shock. “I beg your pardon!”
“You think my patrons come here to feel guilty about the sin they’re making? No, they want a good-looking woman teasing them, turning them on, and that church bullshit you spewed isn’t going to cut it.”
A few snickers came from the women watching, and Avilon sent them all a fierce glare. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin to address the dark-haired man glaring at her.
“That’s the only type of song I know.”
“Then we’re done, sweetheart. Take your hymns and go home.”
He turned and took a few imposing strides away, leaving Avilon staring after him in mute fury. The one man she needed to interview and he had refused to talk to her. She saw Jason Braddock leaning against the doorframe, saw him raise one eyebrow at her that seemed to mock her and ask what she planned to do.
“If you two love each other so much, then why bring me in between you?” she asked bitterly. “Were you playing a game with me?”
“What?” Jason asked, shocked, before shaking his head no. “Of course not.”
“Jason wants a family,” Eli told her. “But…obviously, we can’t because we’re two men.”
Rage billowed up, threatening to choke her. “You want a broodmare? That’s why you want me?”
Eli grabbed her hand. “No, Avilon, no. That’s not why we were attracted to you, why we want you. How can I say this…You were so defiant that day you auditioned. And you’re beautiful, compassionate, loyal—qualities that are so hard to find, especially here in San Francisco. I never thought I’d find a woman who could incorporate all of those qualities, and who happened to come to care for us. Then…then—”
“We could be a family,” she whispered.
He nodded. “I’ve never had a family. My mother was…was a whore who left when I was six. I might not be too good at subtlety, but I assure you, it was never about using you. Or hurting you.”
Her gaze darted back and forth between them. Eli’s hard edge had cracked, just a little, allowing his vulnerability to shine through. That one sentence had said so much about him. And while Jason had always shown his brightness and approachability, now he wore an earnest, heartfelt expression.
“If you two love each other,” she finally said, licking her lips, “then show me.”
Confusion clouded their eyes.
“What do you mean?” Eli asked.
“Kiss him,” she ordered and pointed to Jason. “Love him. Convince me the emotion is real.”
The bedroom was suddenly filled with heart-pounding tension. Eli’s body hardened, the muscle of his jaw tightening. Jason’s eyes narrowed as he regarded her warily.
“How far do you want us to take this?” Eli asked softly.
“If you want me to be comfortable with you, to trust you, then you need to trust me,” she answered equally as softly.
That must have been the right thing to say, because in the next instant, Eli reached for Jason, sinking his big hand behind Jason’s neck to pull him into his body. Their lips met, crashing together in a bruising kiss.
Their bodies gravitated toward each other. She watched Eli grab Jason’s hips and pull him into his body. They were equal in height and stature, but Eli simply oozed dominance. Both men ground against each other as if they couldn’t get close enough.
Hands roamed over hard abs, seeking. Clothes started to shift. Layer by layer it was discarded as the room became thick with passion. Avilon watched them. Her heart pounded, and her blood boiled. She felt her feminine folds become slick as their hands traced over sleek muscles and tempered strength. Eli’s cock jutted hard and proud from the smattering of dark hair that surrounded the base and traveled up to form a line that rode the center of his tight abdomen to furl across his chest. A heavy sac rested at the apex of his thighs, almost begging to be fondled.
Jason gently grasped Eli’s large cock, taking the clear fluid leaking from the tip to rub into the shaft before pumping his hand up and down. Then he replaced his hand with his mouth, holding on to Eli’s hips as the bigger man buried his hands in Jason’s hair to guide him up and down again and again.
Eli’s gaze met hers, holding her captive within its brilliant lightness. “Touch yourself,” he told her.
“What?” she asked, startled.
“Touch yourself,” he repeated. “Use your fingers to rub your pussy, tease your clit. But watch us.”
Tentatively, she did as he commanded, pulling up her nightgown and brushing her hands toward her thighs. Slowly, she opened her legs. Her fingers brushed over the damp curls, sliding through them until she touched the sensitive little nub. Her body quivered as she watched Jason deep throat Eli. Watching them, she replicated what they had done to her, playing with her clit as well as pushing a finger inside her slick passage. She moaned. She was so wet that small squelching noises could be heard matching in harmony the noises from Jason’s throat.
“Fuck yes,” Eli gasped. “You’re both so fucking hot. God, Jace, no more, or you’ll make me come in your mouth, and I want to be buried deep inside you when that happens. Let’s show Avilon what true male fucking is like.”
Eli kissed him again, pushing his tongue deep into Jason’s mouth as he clutched him tight.
Moments slipped by as Avilon watched them, becoming more and more aroused by the second. Eli pulled Jason up to stand beside him. He kissed Jason, hard, passionately, before he laid Jason on his back and pushed his thighs open wide. Avilon watched Eli lick his fingers then reach between their bodies. Jason gasped, his lips parting on a breathless sigh.
“Yes,” Eli said, his voice low and intimate. “Open for me.”