Jason flashed a devilish grin. “Good afternoon, love. Sleep well?”
She flushed and cast her gaze from him to focus on Eli. “Annabel was hurt last night by one of her clients.”
Though his eyebrows drew together in concern, his mouth firmed in annoyance. “Why hasn’t she reported this to me?”
“She seems to be of the mind that you will throw her out of here if she can’t make her revenue for you.”
She saw Jason’s eyebrows rise. Eli only scowled more. “Oh hell. I can just imagine what’s turning in that brain of yours, sweetheart, and no, I’m not heartless. For the time being, I can find other work for her to earn her keep.”
Avilon folded her arms. “She’s hurt, Eli. She needs rest and respite from the harsh burden of this profession.”
“You wish for me to absorb her lack of income?”
“I wish for you to be compassionate.”
He narrowed his eyes and mimicked her stance by folding his arms as well. “And what compensation will that give me? Compassion doesn’t pay the salary for twenty dealers, ten kitchen staff, including a temperamental chef, my factotum, who helps me negotiate with the Chinese, the laundress, a dozen different vendors supplying food and drink to this establishment, not to mention various carpenters and a cleaning staff, plus all the palms I have to grease to keep my doors open. Money is a necessary evil, and we all do our part, including me and Jason.”
“What if you had courtesans instead of whores?”
She saw him blink and raise his eyebrow as if he didn’t quite understand what she meant.
“Aren’t they the same thing?” Jason asked.
“No,” she answered, shooting him a quick glance. “Whores take as many men for the night as they possibly can, making their clients hurry to do their deed so they can move on, looking for the next man. But courtesans are exclusive. They’re trained in the art of sex. It takes a lot of money to have a courtesan, a lot of clout.”
She saw the interested gleam appear in Eli’s light eyes and knew she had him. “Go on,” he urged.
“Shut the upstairs down for two weeks—”
“Two weeks!” he gasped. “I’ll lose a heavy profit. Men will leave, searching for wenches elsewhere.”
“In the two weeks, we transform the rooms upstairs,” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “Decorate them to resemble a Turkish harem. Material, pillows, candles, and mirrors. Pass the word around that the girls are being specially trained in unusual delights. Say that only the deepest purse can afford the new girls.”
Both of them were quiet, thinking, until Jason wagged his finger at her. “What do you know of Turkish harems?”
“I’ve seen one.”
At that, both of their eyebrows shot up into their hairlines.
“Beg pardon?” Jason asked.
“My aunt Verity wanted to travel the world, and so I went with her as a companion.”
“And you saw Turkish harems?” Eli asked, doubt heavy in his words. “In the Ottoman Empire?”
“Yes,” she answered firmly. “Did you know harem in the Muslim language means ‘forbidden’? It’s usually a place where women gather inside a household, and not necessarily exclusively for the men to have sexual relations with them.”
“Well, that just ruined a lot of fantasies,” Jason muttered.
“My point exactly. Most men have fantasies about harems because they’re unknown and exotic,” she stated with a satisfied smirk. “It ignites the imagination with pictures of all types of sexual deviations, ones that men would pay a lot of money to explore.”
“And you would teach the girls what?” Eli asked.
“Everything I saw. How to dress, the makeup, even how they walk and talk. It’s an alluring world, Eli, one men would pay handsomely for—which is why you would get only twenty percent of their profit.”
Eli snorted. “I get eighty now.”
“Twenty,” she repeated. “The girls are doing all the work.”
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s my establishment. Sixty.”
“Thirty. If you treat the girls with respect, they’ll work twice as hard.”
“Fifty. And they become exclusive to me. No taking johns outside the club.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You can’t cast them out.”
“If they work hard, then I won’t have to.”
“Then I think the terms will be acceptable to them.”
Even before satisfaction could settle, Eli grabbed her around the waist and hauled her into his body. “I’ll be losing money in this deal,” he said in a silky-smooth voice. “How are you prepared to compensate me?”
“You want me to compensate you?”
“You became their advocator. I deserve some recompense from you.”
His arm was like a steel band around her waist. She could feel the heat of his body bleeding through her clothes, making her insides quiver at his touch. Her mouth went dry as the world faded and she stared into his sky-blue eyes.
“What do you want?” she whispered.
“You. Between me and Jason. In our bed, unreserved, unlimited, unconditional. Do I make myself clear?”
“You and Jason. I’ll be with both of you, together?”
“Together, separate, between us, beside us. You’ll be ours, Avilon, until we say otherwise.”
She looked at Jason and found him staring questioningly at Eli. But as if sensing her gaze, he turned, and she saw the bright flame of desire flaring from his eyes. Whatever he was thinking, it was clear he supported Eli’s ultimatum. Did she as well? Deep down she knew her body hungered for both of them, so was this just a convenient excuse to overlook the moral sin of wanting two men?
Slowly, she conceded with a nod of her head.
Chapter Ten
A satisfied smile transformed Eli’s face. His usual fierce and autocratic demeanor turned calculating, like a chess piece well played. Jason even went so far as to pat his back in congratulations. It should have annoyed her, but truthfully, all it did was send amusement through her body.
“In two weeks,” she added and watched the smugness fade in the blink of an eye. Eli Masters was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. But then, she was a woman who wasn’t afraid to take a little risk.
“You’ll come home with us tonight,” he ordered.
“I have too much stuff to do in the next two weeks,” she responded airily. “I can’t possibly indulge you as your…plaything.”
“You make us sound like cats,” Jason grumbled.
“It’s not a far stretch of the imagination to picture you as a tiger,” she told him. “Eli is a lion, of course.”
“Touché.”
“Enough,” Eli snapped. His brow furrowed over turbulent eyes. “I want you now.”
She cocked her head. “And do you always get what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Good things come to those who wait.”
“Avilon—”
He broke off what he was going to say when Jason laid his hand where Eli still held her. “Let her go, Eli.”
“Jace,” Eli warned.
“She’s right, Eli. She needs time to transform our new business arrangement. If she needs two weeks, then we’ll give it to her.”
The two men stared at each other before Eli let go of her with a low curse. He turned and walked away, his gait quick but rigid.
Avilon looked at Jason. “Thank you.”
He cupped her face. “I’m already regretting my words.”
And before she could say anything else, he dropped his hand to turn and follow Eli.
* * * *
“Had to open your fucking mouth,” Eli muttered as Jason walked in behind him and closed the door to Eli’s office. He had his hands on his waist as he glared at Jason. “She could be here right now, sucking my cock, but you go and give her a two-week reprieve!”
Jason mimicked his stance. “Is your cock the only thing you think of?”
“Hardl
y,” Eli said with a snort of impatience. “I think of yours, too.”
“Really, Eli? Are you really thinking about my cock?”
“Something bothering you, Jace? You have something to say, then say it!”
But instead of saying anything, Jason pushed him. Eli retaliated by pushing Jason back, pinning him against the wall with his arms up by his head. Eli’s grip was firm as Jason tried to wiggle free.
And then Eli leaned his head down to press his lips against Jason’s. Jason bucked a little, but he couldn’t move, and the kiss was over in a flash. Eli lifted his head to stare at Jason, his light eyes almost daring the other man to do something.
“Let go of my hands,” Jason ordered in a soft but firm voice.
Slowly, Eli released his tight hold on Jason’s arms, tensing as he waited for Jason’s next move. But all Jason did was grab Eli’s shirt front and pull the bigger man into him and smash his mouth against his.
The kiss was rough, raw. Jason pressed Eli’s lips open, and his tongue slipped inside, seeking his, dancing. He pressed his body more firmly into Eli’s, and Eli gave him a few minutes of power before taking over. He couldn’t help it. It was his nature to dominate. He grabbed hold of Jason’s wrists to twist them up and pin them against the wall.
Eli’s free hand roamed over Jason’s hard body, over the tightly defined shoulders, down a corded back, then around to the front of his pants. Eli unbuttoned them and pulled the shirt up and out of his way as he found Jason’s already-hard cock.
He fisted it, tugging on the velvety steel rod and milking it. Jason moaned under him, thrusting his ass into Eli’s groin and massaging his hard cock with his ass cheeks. Eli gathered Jason’s pre-cum and moved to his tight hole, massaging the ring and stretching the muscles. One finger slipped in easily, and he felt Jason relax, so he pressed another finger in.
“Just fuck me, Eli,” Jason demanded, wiggling his ass. “Don’t tease.”
“You want it, Jace?” Eli asked, almost panting with his own excitement. “You want my hard cock buried in your ass?”
At Jason’s answering moan, Eli withdrew his fingers from Jason’s sweet ass to unbutton his own pants. Still holding Jason’s hands above his head, he kicked open Jason’s stance a little wider. Jason bent his knees, which thrust his ass out. Then Eli pushed against the puckered ring with determined strokes, until suddenly, he was in.
Eli soared into heaven.
Jason was squirming under him, bucking his hips, going wild. In and out Eli pumped his hips, each thrust going deeper, spreading Jason wider. The instinct to pound hard and fast was almost overwhelming, but he held back to prolong the friction between them.
Eli wrapped his arm around Jason’s waist, as if he were hugging him. He pulled his cock out slightly, then pushed in again, the sensation intensifying with each plunge. Little by little he increased his tempo, until Eli felt he and Jason were one being, one soul. It was always like this, the connection deeper and more than simple love.
“Oh yes,” Jason begged. “Oh yes, harder. Fuck me, Eli!”
At the impassioned words, Eli lost all sense of restraint and began pounding harder. He reached around him to grab Jason’s cock, jerking it in time with his thrusts. Seconds later, Jason let out a cry as shudders racked his body. Liquid warmth coated Eli’s hand as Jason’s cock erupted. Electrified, Eli let go of Jason’s hands to grab hold of his lover’s hips, pumping his ass as fast and as deep as he could go. Seconds later, he roared as he came, spilling deep within Jason.
Heart hammering, Eli half collapsed onto Jason’s back. They stayed that way until their breathing evened out. Eli’s cock softened and slipped from Jason’s body, the juices running between them.
“God, Eli,” Jason said, panting, “I fucking love you.”
Eli pressed his lips to the back of Jason’s neck. “I love you, too.”
“Then what’s this shit with Avilon?”
“What about her?”
Jason squirmed until Eli reluctantly eased off him. He watched as Jason straightened, pulling up his pants and stuffing his shirt back in, before doing the same.
“You’re moving her in with us? Are you saying we’re over?”
“Never,” Eli stated emphatically.
“Then why? We’ve shared women, but only for a night. Moving in suggests days, weeks—”
“Forever.”
Jason’s head snapped back as if he’d been slapped. “What?”
Eli sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Several months ago, I overheard you say something that I’ve never forgotten,” he whispered, his face stricken in the dim light trickling through the closed shade. “It’s haunted me, Jace.”
“What did I say?” Jason asked softly.
“You said one day you’d like to be a father.”
Jason blinked at him. “I don’t remember saying that.”
“Annabel fell off the bottom step, twisted her ankle. You wrapped it, and she teased how you could hold a babe. And you said…you said—”
“I said one day, Eli,” Jason replied, shaking his head. “I never meant I didn’t want to be with you!”
“I know,” Eli said softly. “But I realized we can never be more than this, Jason, unless we find a woman, one who will accept us and complete us as a family. Marry one of us, give us children.”
He could see that the possibilities, as well as the implication, were playing through Jason’s mind.
“Eli, as much as that scenario is a wonderful fantasy, it is just that. A fantasy. How can we bring someone into our home and still keep us a secret?”
“I’m hoping we won’t have to, if we find the right woman.”
Jason shook his head. “It’s too dangerous to trust anyone. You know this! We’d be thrown in jail, imprisoned.”
Eli frowned. “At least give it a chance, Jace. I want to make you happy.”
Jason took hold of Eli’s hands. “You do. And I won’t jeopardize you or us for anything. If you want, we’ll have Avilon until we satisfy our desire for her. But don’t ask me for more than that.”
Eli felt his euphoric mood disappear. They had shared the ups and downs, the good and bad. They had fought and made up hundreds of times. They had loved in all kinds of places and in all kinds of ways. Through it all, Eli had never been scared in all the years they were together until the one time he had heard Jason talk about being a father. It terrified him, because he knew it was the one thing that could separate them, and he couldn’t let that happen. Jason meant too much to him. Disappointment surged through him, and he took a step back, letting Jason’s hold fall away.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he stated flatly before turning and walking away quickly.
“Eli? Wait, Eli—”
But his words were cut off as Eli slammed the door shut.
Chapter Eleven
Though she was able to wrestle a two-week reprieve, it felt like a noose around her neck. Each day the rope tightened a little more.
Her decision weighed heavily on her mind. It wasn’t as if she expected to marry, at least it wasn’t something she yearned for. Before her father had died, he had talked about betrothing her to the son of a textiles merchant, a local boy barely older than she. He was nice and pleasant enough to look at, but after experiencing such delight in Jason and Eli’s arms, she realized she never would have been content with just pleasant and nice.
Her aunt had opened her eyes to the world. Somewhere in her years of travel, the idea of marriage had deteriorated into an abstract concept. Yes, she wanted companionship. Someday. She didn’t want to grow old alone. But neither did she want to sacrifice the tenuous idea of freedom she had. Aunt Verity hadn’t exhausted all her money, and now Avilon could live sufficiently on her own. Yet by accepting Eli’s ultimatum, she was afraid alone was exactly where she would end up. She could never ask another man to excuse her lack of virginity.
It seemed she could find no solution. The world was often biased against women, and she
couldn’t abandon Annabel and the rest of the girls, just as she couldn’t abandon her sister.
When the girls had heard of the changes Avilon had made on their behalf, some were belligerent and angry at her arrogance—until they learned of their pay increase and the fact that they had control of how many clients they could have in a night.
So, with their cooperation, the transformation of the upstairs began.
Having only two weeks didn’t give Avilon much time to change years of behavior. But not having to work nights gave the girls hours to learn. On her trip to Constantinople, Avilon had been privileged to see some of the traditional dance of the region. Along the coastal area of the Black Sea, the formation of tempo and rhythm made the dance complex, which was the reason why drums were more commonly used. Avilon’s memory for music made this task easier to teach than others.
She taught them a few words in Turkish to lend a ring of authenticity, like canim benim and yakışıklı, endearments for the men. Though tricky to master, once learned they would be useful to sell the fantasy they were trying to weave.
She showed them how to apply the heavy eyelid look with kohl, using a medley of malachite, charcoal, and honey to thicken the eyelashes. The girls liked playing around with the makeup, experimenting on their own until they found what worked for them.
They were even able to recruit Ellis, who knew a business in the Chinatown district that provided cheap, but effective, gauzy material in dark, exotic colors like burnt orange and marigold. The girls took cheap metal beads and used them to decorate the fabric, giving it a jingle as it flowed.
Pillows were sewn, rooms were painted, and candles were brought in. Annabel had the idea to move mirrors to the ceiling over the beds, and Avilon had to admit, the effect caused an interested stirring in her belly. What would Eli, Jason, and she look like reflected back from the smooth silver surface?
And though the girls might have had a two-week rest, she did not. In between all the schooling by day, she still had to practice with Homer. They rehearsed songs they knew, but Avilon learned a great many that she didn’t. The melodies were simple, the words even more so, but they were fun to sing. As she became more comfortable onstage, singing to strangers, she was able to loosen up and put a little more swagger into her performances. She managed to fix two dresses in between all her other work, the purple silk that Jason liked and a scarlet sateen that dipped a little too far in front. She alternated each one and kept them fresh by burning a dish of rose water over a candle in her room.
The Song Bird (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 7