The Song Bird (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (16 page)

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.”

She could only imagine what those fingers were doing to Jason, and her imagination flew into overtime as the hazy blur between her own fingers and the memory of Eli’s meshed together.

Then Eli took his cock and started guiding himself in. Avilon could see Jason’s tight hole, at first resisting and then accepting, as Eli pushed all the way in. Both men moaned in obvious pleasure, and Avilon watched Eli’s hips as he began pumping.

“Isn’t he beautiful, Avilon?” Eli asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she said, and it was true. She looked at Jason’s face, at the rapture and love shining, all for the man who possessed his body. What she was seeing was love. Eli and Jason worshipped each other through every gesture, every caress. It wasn’t tawdry or cheap, and watching them, she realized that they had never meant to hurt her. Their type of love was pure, deep, and witnessing it inflamed her.

With each push of Eli’s hard cock, Jason grunted with delight and fisted his own cock, jerking in time to Eli’s thrusts. Guttural sounds of pleasure mingled, theirs and hers. She couldn’t seem to finger herself fast enough. A crescendo was approaching, she could practically taste it, and she wanted to be right there with them when it hit. It was incredible, amazing.

“I’m going to come,” Eli gasped. “Jace! Holy fuck…Avilon!”

His back arched as he slammed against Jason hard. Jason cried out as fluid squirted from the tip of his own cock, and all of it overwhelmed her. She broke apart in a thousand pieces.

* * * *

While their bodies lay entwined, the cool night air dried their sweat-slicked skin. Eli had nestled against her side, careful not to jar her shoulder as he traced patterns over the back of her wrist. Jason rested his head on her lap, and she stroked his hair, loving the silky strands as they filtered through her fingers.

“Did it never occur to ask me if I even wanted a family?” she asked them in the inky darkness.

“Don’t try to tell me that family doesn’t mean something to you, not when you’ve crossed an ocean to find Amelia,” Eli murmured.

At hearing her sister’s name, her breath whooshed out of her in a rush. “I’ve never thought about having my own family. I came to find Amelia because I was selfish and she’s suffered for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aunt Verity wanted a traveling companion, and I happily went. I never thought about Amelia or her needs. So how could I possibly be a good mother?” she asked bitterly.

“Are you kidding? One letter from her and you go frantic. You left Amelia thinking she’d be safe with family. Family, Avilon, not a stranger and not alone.”

Jason took her hand and linked their fingers. “Will you stay with us, Avilon? All the cobwebs cleared, you, me, and Eli, together as a family?”

She took a deep breath. “What happens when I find Amelia?”

“It’s possible she’s no longer in San Francisco,” Eli reminded her.

“No, she’s here. I can feel it.”

“Then we’ll find her. She’s your sister. But that is the big issue here, isn’t it? If we make this decision to be a family, then we discuss future problems together.”

“Are you willing to try?” Jason asked.

She had no idea how it would work between them, past the sexual aspect, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted to try. Her feelings for them both wouldn’t let her walk away without at least trying.

“All right,” she agreed. “But if there ever is a time when you want to move on, or change your mind, then…let me know.”

“I don’t ever see that happening,” Jason replied.

“But we agree,” Eli assured. “And it goes both ways.”

Then he placed his hand on top of where Jason held hers. She had to admit, it felt nice.

She returned to the theater that night. It was that or go absolutely stir-crazy. Eli and Jason protested, of course, and Jin Li suggested one more day of rest, but the ache in her shoulder paled in comparison to the joy of standing onstage. It was like tasting freedom again.

Annabel and the girls came to greet her, genuinely happy to see her back on her feet. And though Homer didn’t crack even a hint of a smile, he scooted over on the bench to make room for her to sit. Avilon smiled and sat.

“Are you sure your arm is okay?” Annabel asked doubtfully.

“Well, I can’t lift it, but standing is perfectly fine,” Avilon replied.

The cooks joined their little impromptu get-together, bringing bread and cheese, fried chicken, boiled potatoes seasoned with rosemary and garlic, green beans flavored with chunks of ham, and freshly baked bread with just-churned butter. Homer played a happy little tune on his piano as everyone ate, laughing and enjoying a moment free of any responsibility or expectation. And Jason joined the festivities by bringing several bottles of wine.

“How did you happen to travel through Turkey?” asked one of the girls as the first round of drinks was poured.

“When my parents died, my father’s sister, Verity, wanted me to live with her. She would have taken my sister, Amelia, too, but Amelia was still in finishing school. Aunt Verity was a bit…different.”

“Different? How?” Annabel asked.

“My uncle Timon had just died, leaving her very handsomely well-off. But instead of doddering in widow’s garb, she took her money, took me, and we traveled through Europe, Northern Africa, the Mediterranean Sea, and of course to Constantinople.”

“I’ve never heard of some of those places!” Annabel grumbled.

“How long did you travel?” Jason asked.

“Four years. When we received a telegram saying my cousin Odell had passed, we made plans to return home. My sister had finished school, and I was anxious to have her travel with us. But on our return voyage home, cholera broke out on the ship. Aunt Verity died a week before reaching New Orleans.”

A round of sorrowful murmurs went round the room, and they all toasted her aunt Verity. It brought a melancholy smile to Avilon’s lips.

“I’m very sorry,” Jason told her. “But you didn’t contract the disease?”

“No. One of the passengers from India, who helped me nurse my aunt, warned me not to drink the water.”

“Really? He thought the water was the start of contamination? What an interesting theory,” he said, clearly interested.

“So you returned to New Orleans alone?” asked one of the cooks.

Avilon nodded. “It was then I found out Amelia had run away. A month later, I received her letter. It took a few weeks to secure passage with the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. We sailed to Veracruz, Mexico, and had to hike through the jungle to reach a city called Acapulco, where we took a ship to California. I think Aunt Verity would have loved that journey.”

“What was your favorite city?” Jason asked softly.

“Hm. I really enjoyed Paris and Milan, because of the opera. I only have to hear a piece of music once to know it, so I loved traveling and absorbing it all.”

“You have the voice of an angel,” Homer mumbled, making everyone glance at him in surprise. He scowled at them and started playing another song.

Once, Avilon looked up and saw Eli darkening the shadow of the doorway, but he didn’t enter. He left his staff to their merrymaking. And for a moment, she saw who he really was, a man always walking on the outskirts of those around him. He had let only one person inside the shell he wore, and now she was another privileged soul able to enter Eli’s world. She knew trust didn’t come easy for him, not with knowing how his mother all but abandoned him as a child. It explained so much, his cold, unfeeling attitude toward prostitutes, his ambitious drive to control everything. He was a strong man, and yet, his heart was so fragile. And before she could blink, Eli disappeared from the doorway.

“He just can’t let himself relax,” Jason said on a sigh filled with longing.

Avilon turned to look at him, her head cocked in confusion. “Why does he present this coldness to the world? You’re the only person I’ve seen him mellow toward.”

Jason shook his head. “You’re wrong. He’s more peaceful when you’re around.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “It seems like all he and I do is spar. I don’t have that problem with you.”

“That’s because I’m uncomplicated,” he answered easily. “My parents loved me. They died saving me from a fire in our house, but I had ten years of their love and support. Even after they died, I never wondered about my place in this life. But Eli…his mother left him at the whorehouse she worked at, a little boy abandoned by the one person who was supposed to protect him. He was put to work at four years old, beaten and starved regularly. It’s a wonder he survived at all, let alone was able to lift himself far enough up to eventually afford this place. Did you know I taught him how to read?”

“No,” she murmured, “I didn’t.”

“It wasn’t until we were in Oregon, trying to find work, that his talent with numbers became apparent.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “He started playing poker, was able to count cards, and his winnings increased.”

“And then he won this club from Mr. Broon,” she finished.

“He told you about that, did he? The first two months, he turned the place around, the profits increased expeditiously, and within six months of ownership, Eli brought the Greek myth of Tyche to life.”

“The goddess of fortune and prosperity of a city.”

“Yeah. Eli devours all books dealing with ancient history. His library is in his office. There are books in there that sound boring as hell, but he’s read them all numerous times.”

“The beast of a man tamed by the beauty of books,” she concluded.

Jason laughed. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“He’s lucky he has you.”

“No,” Jason said with a quick shake of his head. “I’m the lucky one. And now, I’m doubly blessed because now we have you.”

Heat bloomed across her cheeks while inside her heart did a dance of joy.

* * * *

That evening she was greeted with enthusiastic applause, and Avilon felt like a princess. She floated on clouds knowing that the audience cheered and clapped for her, for her singing. They loved her, and she loved being able to sing the beautiful songs her mind had instantly memorized during her travels abroad. Instead of standing and livening up her performance with the couple of new dance moves she’d made up, she sat on one of the high-back chairs. It had been a condition of Eli’s allowing her back to sing, and truthfully, she hadn’t minded. She grew tired quickly since the shooting.

When the concert was over, she bowed at the standing ovation she received and exited backstage. She was so tired she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it to the town house. The bed in the dressing room beckoned like a sweet piece of temptation.

An envelope on her vanity table caught her eye. Curious, she opened it and pulled out the piece of paper. Her eyes widened, and her heart jumped into her throat.

It was from Amelia! Two sentences, and it wasn’t signed, but Avilon would know her sister’s handwriting anywhere. She had practically memorized the damn letter that had brought her to San Francisco in the first place. She quickly reread the terse summoning.

Today before dawn. Ellis will bring you.

Even though she hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours, she was wide awake nestled between Eli and Jason. After the club had closed, they had taken her hand and led her upstairs. Jason had been at her front, slipping the sleeves of her green satin dress down until the tips of her nipples were revealed, pushed up by the tight lacing of her corset. He had kissed the puckered skin where the bullet had ripped through her. It didn’t hurt any longer, just a tender area that sometimes reminded her that she had lifted her arm too high. Eli was busy unbuttoning the dress and untying stays, his expertise at such matters saying more than words ever could.

When he had managed to loosen everything, her clothes fell in a puddle of frothy material, leaving her in only her drawers and stockings. Her black hair remained pinned at the back of her head, so Eli ran his fingers gently through it, scattering the pins in all directions. She didn’t even care that later she’d be on hands and knees looking for the darn things. Jason had taken her breasts in his hands, cupping them and teasing the nipples with his mouth, lavishing them with attention and making the ache between her thighs climb quickly.