In a Chord (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Beth D. Carter

  She leaned in and held his gaze. “I would love that.”

  Chapter Six

  Ash opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open to allow Momo to come in. He had waited for her shift to end then they had taken a cab back to the repository. They could have walked, but the sun was falling and the breeze was picking up, so he’d splurged on a ride.

  He shut the door once she was through then proceeded to help her take off her coat and hang it up on one of the hooks on the foyer wall. The front door opened to a small hallway, and he and Keaton had made it a place to hang anything that had to do with the Pacific Northwest weather. Somehow, however, it had ended up as the resting place for a lot of junk. He kicked a garbage bag full of…stuff out of the way.

  The hallway opened up to a large room where drywall had been thrown up to separate areas. To the right was the kitchen that held a dining set with mismatched chairs. The living room had a collection of recliners and chairs all framed around a couch that might have been cream once upon a time. Now it was an ugly mud color. The coffee table was nicked and scratched and covered with piles of composition sheets. Rugs of all shapes, sizes, and material covered each surface of the concrete floor.

  He went around clicking all the various lamps on, shedding some light in the dark warehouse.

  Ash saw Momo’s attention directed at the bed pushed to the left side of the repository and half hidden behind three sheetrock walls. He and Keaton had never got around to putting on the last wall with the door. In the bedroom itself, several chest of drawers, freestanding racks to hang clothes on, an ironing board and iron, and nightstands were gathered together, and, he knew, stuffed full of clothes and personal items. The repository was cool as hell but didn’t have all that much in way of closet space, which probably was the reason why the hallway was full of shit.

  He saw Momo shiver a little. “Sorry, let me get the generator. The only downfall to living in a warehouse is that it sucks in the winter.”

  He disappeared through a side door where he and Keaton had stuck a variety of fixtures, including a hot water tank and huge generator. He flicked the switch, and the fucker roared to life, but once he closed the door, only a very faint hum could be heard.

  “Insulated,” he explained as he saw her raised eyebrows. “We used soundproofing for the door, otherwise the sound would drive you bat-shit crazy.”

  She smiled and gestured to the still-unmade bed. “If the band plays here, don’t they wonder why there’s only one bedroom?”

  Ash pointed up. “There’s a loft with a bedroom and bathroom.”

  “Ah,” she said. “This is pretty damn awesome.”

  “My dad owns the building, and I persuaded him to allow Keaton and me to live here. It’s not legit, at least I don’t think it is, but we don’t do anything stupid, and if someone comes by, we always say it’s a music studio. Come on,” he said with a wave, walking through the living room and around the wall.

  There were lights, microphones, a drum set, guitars on stands, amplifiers, and a keyboard stand. Momo walked past him to one of the microphones and grabbed it as she turned in a circle.

  “This is amazing!” she said with a delighted laugh.

  “We did a few of our YouTube videos here.”

  “Yeah, now I recognize this place!” She set the microphone stand down.

  He walked over to some controls and flipped them on one by one. The stage sprung to life with the glare of the lights and the whine of the amps. He walked over to his acoustic guitar and picked it up.

  “Let’s sing ‘Space,’” he said, and started tuning his instrument.

  Momo grabbed the microphone stand. “One two,” she said quite loudly. “One two check.” Then she waited till he nodded at her.

  Without the drums, the electric guitar, and the keyboards, the song didn’t have the hard, brittle edge. Instead, Ash played it softly, letting the melody carry it.

  It was a song about being empty after a love affair died. It was supposed to be a hard, brittle song, but as Momo sang she started to change some of the melody, playing around with the words and phrasing.

  At first Ash was confused with what she was doing, but as the song progressed, he started hearing a different version of the song he had helped write. The lyrics softened in her voice, and this time, he heard the heartache behind the story. He followed her lead and started changing some of the riffs.

  “Yeah, I like that,” she said, humming along. “Especially changing that one area to a chord of D, F flat, and A. I think you, Keaton, and I would blend awesomely on that.”

  He played it again, and she sang along, and soon they were evolving beyond just playing one song. He started strumming, and she mixed her humming in, adding to the music. They were creating in the most basic way that most songs came about, and he absolutely loved it. This was his passion, his drive. He and Momo worked amazing well together, their hearing attuned to each other, their tastes surprisingly similar.

  “You’ve got great ideas,” he told her.

  “I wish I had my violin,” she said, and tapped a fingernail on the mic stand. “If we added something classic to the beginning and ending, it would enhance it, I think. Like ‘Awake and Alive’ by Skillet.”

  He nodded. “Bring it tomorrow night and we can play with it.”

  “Really?”

  He stood up from stool he had been half sitting on and put his guitar back on the stand. He held out a hand to her, and she took it. “Keaton was right. You have an amazing voice.”

  “It’s easy to have an amazing voice when you got a great song and it’s in your key.”

  She started humming the song, and impulsively, he pulled her into his arms. She faltered on the song for a second before resuming, and they swayed together. As she relaxed, her body melted into his, hip to hip and thigh to thigh. She was tall but not as tall as he, so he looked down into her almond eyes. He watched the passion come alive in their dark depths and he felt his own rising.

  There came a point when Momo stopped humming and they stopped dancing. They stayed as they were, arms twined around each other. Her hand buried itself in his hair, and her fingers curled into the strands as her eyes locked on his mouth. She licked her lips. He wasn’t sure if it was self-conscious or not, but seeing her moist pink tongue had him groaning.

  He released her, stepping back and clearing his throat. “You, ah, are you thirsty?”

  She blinked, looking as if she’d just woken up from some dream. “Yeah, I guess. Um, can I use the restroom?”

  “Sure, the stairs are over there. Can’t miss it. Join me in the kitchen when you’re done.”

  She nodded and turned to walk away. He watched her, and his eyes fell to her ass where her jeans hugged her curves very well. Long legs, narrow hips, with black hair falling to just below her shoulders, she was beautiful, and the more time he spent with her the more he understood Keaton’s infatuation. He was rock hard and aching. His body was screaming at him to fuck her until they both lost their minds, but his conscious was reminding him that Keaton had seen her first.

  His composure absolutely shot, he was perusing the refrigerator when she reappeared. Her suspenders were hanging around her hips as she leaned over him to look at what he had offer, bringing her breasts flush up against arm. He swallowed and briefly closed his eyes, trying to cool his ardor.

  “I’ll take a beer,” she murmured in his ear.

  She reached in and grabbed one before moving away. He remained standing in the cool refrigerator air, hoping it would be enough to make his raging boner go down. Unfortunately, he was afraid all the winds of Siberia wouldn’t be enough to quell his reaction to Momo.

  He grabbed a beer and turned to see her sitting at the table, taking a sip of beer. He watched her gaze shift down, and he knew precisely what she was seeing, evidence that he wanted to lay her on the table and fuck her until they both fainted.

  “Ash,” she finally said, setting her bottle down with a click and meeting his
gaze. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have never felt this way,” she admitted, her voice hesitant.

  “What way?” His heart was hammering in his chest.

  She took a bigger gulp of her beer then set it down with a decisive click. He saw her swallow nervously. “I feel hot, like I have a fever, but I’m not sick. Every inch of my skin is prickling. Visions of Keaton are going through my head, but then I have these…fantasies of you and he together that pop in at random moments. And here, with you, I feel like there’s something deep. It’s confusing, you know?”

  Oh yes, boy do I know.

  But he couldn’t pull his eyes off her. His heart was hammering, his nerves were strung tight, and before he realized what he was doing, he grabbed Momo’s head and pulled her lips to his.

  They were kissing, sweeping him away to some primitive place where nothing else mattered but getting her closer. He tried to reign in some of the desire flooding his system, to not scare her, but his body wasn’t listening to his sanity. The pressure of his mouth opened hers, and his tongue slid in.

  He was content for a moment to let their tongues explore each other, dancing and twining together. She tasted like ambrosia, like a slice of heaven, and he half wondered, if it felt this good just kissing her, what must it be like to bury himself deep within her beautiful body?

  When the kiss ended, they broke apart, breathing heavily. He saw his confusion mirrored in her dark eyes.

  “I…I should go,” she whispered.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered back. He kissed her jaw, her cheek, placing little brushes against her smooth skin until he reached her ear. He took the lobe between his teeth, carefully biting it before sucking the pliant flesh into his mouth and sucking.

  “Oh, Ash,” she said with a moan. “I’ve…I’ve got to clear my head.”

  She said the words, but there wasn’t any conviction behind them. But he knew exactly what she meant, because the image of their bodies entwined together was racing through him mind as well. They couldn’t do this because of Keaton.

  Reluctantly, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers as he took in deep breaths in an effort to calm his pounding heart.

  “I know. Damn it.”

  She cupped his jaw. “You said you were a package team, you and Keaton.”

  “Yeah, we are.”

  “Then we can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

  He pulled back and stared at her, trying to figure out what exactly she was getting at. “What do you mean?”

  “I slept with him, had sex with him, but I didn’t know about you two,” she said, her voice breaking. She cleared her throat. “And now, I don’t understand how I can feel like this about two men.”

  She pulled out of his arms.

  “Tomorrow,” he stated. “Tomorrow, after band practice, we’ll figure it out. Together. ’Kay?”

  “I’m not coming to band practice, Ash.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I won’t come between you.”

  “Momo, it’s not like that—”

  “It’s exactly like that.” She backed away from him even farther. “I have to go. I’ll…I’ll call Keaton and cancel with him.”

  She turned to walk away. He grabbed her arm.

  “Let me call a cab.”

  “That’s okay,” she protested. “I can walk.”

  He gave her a stern look. “It’s late at night and freezing. I’ll be damned if I let you go home alone. I may be in a punk rock band, but my mother did raise me as a gentleman. Come on,” he said, rising from the chair. He held his hand out to her, and she hesitantly took it. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  He made a quick call on his cell before escorting her to the front door. As he helped her slip her coat on, he found his mind torn between Keaton and the fascinating woman next to him.

  Chapter Seven

  When he got back that night, Keaton was sound asleep in the bed. Ash stared down at him for a long moment, brows pulled together tightly. He had never wanted anyone else, at least, never wanted anyone more than just a taste. When Endymion had started playing The Black Tiger, their popularity had soared and women were constantly coming up to meet him, offering themselves. He and Keaton had talked about their newfound chance to get laid…often. So they had agreed: no jealousy and no recriminations, just two guys being two guys. When all was said and done, they still had each other.

  But that type of lifestyle had paled quickly for him. The nameless faces of women left him feeling cold and unsatisfied, and Ash quickly realized that sex without love wasn’t really worth it. At least, not for him. For him, it all came down to Keaton. He knew he wasn’t gay since he found no other man attractive, so what he had figured out was that he was in love. He was in love with Keaton, and that made all the difference in the world.

  Keaton had held a part of his heart ever since the summer where they discovered loving each other went beyond a mere hand job. Even asleep Keaton commanded his soul and stirred his passion.

  Yet, he had felt that same zing with Momo. That pull he had discovered with Keaton so long ago, that invisible thread, was the exact same emotion Ash felt toward her. And he knew, he just knew instinctively, that if he and Momo advanced their attraction with sex, with music, with being together, she would become to him what Keaton was to him now.

  But he couldn’t do that because she belonged to Keaton.

  It wasn’t logical, this longing for two people. How could one person yearn for a man and a woman equally? And how would Keaton react to the news that Ash wanted his girl just as feverishly?

  Where did he think this could possibly go?

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His brain hurt just thinking about it. He walked through the repository and methodically turned off all the lights. In the bedroom, he undressed, his eyes focused on Keaton’s sleeping form.

  The man was magnificent. His body was sleekly muscled, with toned arms and defined pecs. A musical scale tattoo rested above his heart. Ash knew Keaton was naked under the blanket since he didn’t like sleeping in clothes.

  Just looking at him made Ash’s heart race and his cock swell. He figured sliding into Keaton’s sweet ass had to be what heaven felt like. Though all he wanted to do was slack the pounding desire that had been heating his blood since Momo had been there, he deliberately turned his mind off masturbating to relieve the tension. Instead, he lay down in bed, scooted in tight to Keaton’s warm body, and closed his eyes.

  * * * *

  Keaton opened his eyes and groaned. He glanced at the clock, which read ten o’clock. He didn’t have to be into work until eleven-thirty for the lunch shift, so he stretched and relaxed.

  His mind was full of Momo and Ash. He just knew he had found what was so missing from their life and their music…her. She understood him, understood the music, and his life was music. And he knew Ash would just love her if he would give her a chance. All three of them could be so incredibly happy.

  He rose and made his way to the second-floor bathroom. First he used the toilet then brushed his teeth before turning on the shower. He scrubbed himself clean quickly in the hot spray, taking a moment to enjoy the biting sting of water.

  He toweled himself off and hung it up, walking naked back to the bedroom. As he passed by the kitchen he saw two beer bottles sitting on the table. One of them had lipstick around the lip. Momo’s?

  Feeling slightly excited that Ash was spending quality time with Momo, he walked into the bedroom to put on his socks and shoes. Once he was done, he picked up his cell and called her.

  “Hello, Keaton,” she said.

  “Good morning, beautiful. Did you happen to come over yesterday?”

  He heard her take a deep breath. “Yes, I did. Actually, I’m glad you called. I wanted to let you know that I, um, can’t make it tonight. In fact, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again.”

  Keaton pulled
the phone away from his ear and looked at the number, making sure he called the right one. “Are you kidding?” he asked her.

  “Keaton—”

  “Listen, I don’t know what this is about but come tonight to practice and tell me what this is all about.”

  He hit the end button harder than necessary.

  Chapter Eight

  “Check one,” Keaton said into the mic. “One two.”

  “Good,” Ash said to him with a nod. He ran his fingers up and down his guitar, testing his sound. Behind him, Mike was warming up his fingers on his keyboard, and Taylor was doing last minute adjustments to his drums.

  He looked up at the window and saw Momo standing there. He started to smile before he remembered he couldn’t smile at her, that he actually had no business to do anything at her.

  But she smiled back at him before her eyes darted to Keaton, who had spotted her.

  “Awesome!” he said in his mic, startling the other two men. They watched as he rushed to the door and opened it, grabbing hold of Momo’s hand and dragging her inside.

  She was wearing a one-piece black dress that had a tutu ruffle at the hem. It reached just past her knees, and Keaton crushed it as he hugged her enthusiastically. Clutched in her hand by her side was her violin case.

  “Hey guys! Look who’s here!”

  “Nice to meet ya, doll,” Taylor said snidely. “There’s a chair in the corner for you to use.”

  “No, Taylor, this is Momo.”

  “Momo?” Taylor asked. “The girl you told me about?”

  “Yeah. Momo, drummer extraordinaire there is Taylor Thomas. Keyboard is ruled by Mike Zahn.” He hesitated for a second. “And you know Ash.”

  “We’ve talked,” Ash stated.

  “Right. She brought her violin so you’ll know she not only has this great voice, but her ideas about ‘Space’ are going to send us over the top.”

  “Wait,” Taylor said. “We’re changing the song?”