In a Chord (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Beth D. Carter

  It was captivating. She was captivating. Keaton forgot his coffee. He forgot his surroundings. He forgot everything as he watched this tiny woman take him from the humble bookstore into a kaleidoscope of music and emotion, and he knew instantly, this was the sound Endymion needed.

  Chapter Two

  Momo kept an eye on the handsome young man sitting just two seats back and to the right. She knew who he was, having just come from watching his band play at The Black Tiger. She made it a habit every weekend to see Endymion perform, and not just because of their music. Quite simply, the lead singer and electric guitar player were simply divine.

  Keaton Gates bordered on a goth slash punk vibe, with some heavy metal thrown in there for good measure. He dyed his hair black, but his eyebrows were naturally dark over rich, chocolate eyes. He liked outlining them with kohl to make them stand out. Ashland Lance, however, was different. An angel. With his long curly blond hair and sky-blue eyes, he looked like he should be in a church choir rather than wringing out sweet music as lead guitarist.

  And now one of those gorgeous men, Keaton Gates, was watching her sing. Nerves stung her a bit, so she had to look away from him every once in awhile. But her eyes kept straying back, addicted to the sight of him.

  Tonight she sang a set of four songs that she had written in the past month. The melodies weren’t difficult, the chords very simplistic actually, but with her, it was always about lyrics and the passion that went into the meaning of the song. The last song she strummed a few notes first before singing.

  The song was personal for her, about a man she had loved who hadn’t really loved her back. That had been a really dark time that had fueled many, many songs.

  The end of the song was hummed as the melody played itself out. Finally, Momo looked up as the room exploded in applause. She smiled prettily, her eyes meeting and holding Keaton’s. She thanked everyone, shook hands with a few people, laughed and talked with others, and waited until the admiring audience slithered away. Finally, he stepped up to her with a hand held out. She took it and immediately felt strong jolts of electricity engulf her hand from his heated touch. Her heart hammered, and she wondered if he could see the pulse jumping in her throat.

  “Hi,” he greeted with a warm smile. He was slightly taller than her, even while she stood in her high-heeled boots. He was dressed as he had been on stage, only with a thin leather jacket covering his black T-shirt and black jeans. His dark hair was spiked upward, and two earrings curled through his left earlobe. He had a type of young Johnny Depp look to him, back when the actor was on 21 Jump Street. There was also that air of uniqueness about him, as if Keaton were just waiting for the chance to leap into his own music and creations. Momo found that absolutely fascinating about him.

  “Hi,” she replied. “Thanks for coming to my show.”

  “You’re fantastic,” he complimented as his gaze swept over her face. “Do you write your own stuff?”

  “Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “Of course, nothing like you sing, but it suits me.”

  He startled. “You know my band?”

  “I try not to miss Endymion.” She smiled. “I love the lyrics to ‘Space.’”

  “Ash and I wrote that song back in high school.”

  “I’ve always wanted to ask who thought of the band’s name? ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.’”

  “Wow,” he murmured, sounding impressed. “You know Keats?”

  She gave a hapless wave around. “I work and sing in a bookstore,” she said, as if that explained everything.

  “Of course.” He smiled.

  “I’m surprised you know Keats, though,” she said.

  He snorted. “My mother’s favorite poet was John Keats, and my father’s favorite movie was Mr. Mom.”

  “Oh, that’s not right,” she said, sympathizing with a shake of her head. “But at least Keaton is kind of cool. I’m adopted, and my parents wanted to stick with a name from my heritage so they chose a name that means peach in Japanese.”

  He tilted his head and perused her up and down. She quite liked his boldness. “I think it fits you perfectly.”

  She smiled prettily at him and peaked through dark lashes. “How did you find my little nook, Keaton Gates?”

  “Very good luck,” he replied. “Actually, I had been listening to the playback of Endymion’s gig this evening.” His lips twisted a little.

  “Something wrong?”

  He shrugged. “The others in the band keep saying I’m obsessing, but I have this feeling that the music we’re playing sounds the same as every other band out there.” He thumped his leg with a restless hand. “I know Endymion can be great.”

  Momo cocked her head and studied the passion burning in his eyes. He excited her, not just with his sensual looks and pouty mouth, but with the shared intensity they both felt toward music. Creating it, singing it, being surrounded by it.

  “So you’re looking for something to harness into your songs to make them great,” she said softly, reaching up to trace feathery patterns near his eyes. “You write brilliant lyrics, Keaton, with brilliant melodies, but you need to pour this passion into their meaning.”

  He reached up and trapped her hands on his cheeks, tilting his head slightly as he questioned her with his gaze.

  “Look at the bands Rise Against or Rage Against the Machine,” she said. “The reason why they’re both mega-famous is because their lead singers convince you every word they says is true.” She pulled away from him and walked over to the stage, grabbing her guitar and sitting in one of the audience seats. She patted one next to her, and he sat down. “I want you to sing your song ‘Space’ with me.”

  “You know the melody?”

  “It only takes me a couple times to hear a song for me to know it,” she replied as she started strumming the strings. “Now, I know the words are chopped because of the melody, but what if we extend it like this.”

  Instead of the hard-rocking way that Endymion played it, Momo now played a softer tempo, almost like a ballad. “The black outside my window teases me no end, as far as it can reach to as far as I can bend,” she sang. “It’s infinite, unnerving, not unable to behold, to the depths of your convictions, too sacred and too cold.”

  He watched her, almost unnervingly. And at first she thought he wasn’t going to sing along. She kept playing the melody however, and all of a sudden, he picked up the next verse.

  They harmonized beautifully, their voices rolling together as if they had been practicing it for years. She finished with a strum of her guitar strings, and they were both rewarded with a smattering of applause from the people watching them at the coffee shop side.

  Momo laughed and waved. “See?” she asked, turning toward him. “See what a beautiful song that is, with beautiful lyrics? All you have to do is feel them here.” She touched his chest over his pounding heart.

  He captured her hand and then leaned closer, his lips touching hers tentatively until she accepted him. And then he meshed their mouths together, his tongue sweeping in to dance with hers. It was brief, but it was delicious.

  She pulled back with reluctance, moaning just a tiny bit. “Keaton, you wanna come back to my place with me?”

  “Oh yeah,” he sighed as he kissed her again.

  Chapter Three

  They almost didn’t make it into her apartment.

  She had her legs wrapped around his waist, holding tight. Her arms twined together over his shoulders with her fingers buried in his dark hair. He had a difficult time trying to balance her and turn the key in her lock, as well as kiss her, all at the same time. She wore a short pleated shirt and stockings at mid-thigh, so he got to feel lots of warm, smooth skin.

  “Fuck,” he growled as the key kept missing. Momo giggled as she licked the shell of his ear before taking the lobe between her tee
th, sucking it softly. “Holy fuck,” he moaned differently, this time in pleasure.

  Luckily he managed to fit the key and turned it quickly, the door swinging open. He stumbled forward until a wall holding several jackets prevented him from going any farther. Momo laughed as she fell into the coats, her legs slipping down.

  “The door, Keaton,” she gasped.

  He shut the door and turned back to her eagerly.

  “You left the key in the lock,” she said with a giggle.

  He opened the door, yanked out the key, closed the door again, and locked the deadbolt.

  Then she was in his arms again and she was walking backward, pulling him along. Their mouths met, lips melding together and tongues entwining. The apartment was small, the bedroom even smaller. The full-sized bed took up almost the whole space. In fact, the door couldn’t even open all the way, but that was okay. She pulled him through the narrow entrance before taking off her T-shirt. She wore a lacey black bra, which she hurriedly undid, until she stood in only her schoolgirl plaid skirt, stockings, and her G-string panties.

  She put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him forward as she moved onto the bed. His breathing came quicker as his heart pounded with excitement. Her hands moved down his body, down his chest to his pants. She rubbed him a couple of times, feeling his length and hardness.

  She raised large eyes to him. “I can’t wait to taste your cock,” she whispered.

  With those words all restraint broke, and she unbuttoned his jeans while tugging the zipper down. He reached into his pocket to his wallet, pulling out a square condom packet before shucking the pants and T-shirt.

  Her delicate hands were barely able to hold his pulsing mass, stroking it up and down. She licked her lips as she stared at it. As he buried his hands in her glorious hair, he brought her head forward and her lips closed over his cock.

  “Oh, God,” he moaned. “Suck me, Momo.”

  Her lips slipped over the tip as he slid forward, over her tongue and down her throat. She wasn’t able to swallow all of it, but she was able to go down a good ways. Momo began to suck, using her tongue to lick the girth as much as she could, tickling under the head. Up and down she bobbed as he fucked her face gently. They were just starting, and he didn’t want this to end too soon, but God! Her mouth was wet and warm, and she ignited a fire in his blood.

  “Yes, yes,” he moaned. “God, you suck good cock!”

  She laughed, but as he was buried deep in her mouth it came out as a strangled warble sound. As she pulled up, she let her tongue trail over the bulging vein on the underside and his glistening cock plopped out of her mouth.

  He moved onto the bed. She scooted backward as he stalked her on his hands and knees, his throbbing member straight and hard like a missile aiming for her. She lay back onto the mattress as he loomed over her, a little grin on his face. He brought one hand along her leg, trailing up the black sock that molded to her sleek muscles. It was held up by elastic around the top of her thigh, and just above it, she wore a black G-string.

  “I like this,” he murmured. He leaned over her and licked her slit right though the lace. She gasped and shivered, so he did it again. Easing one finger over her panties, he slipped it under them to touch the moistness that oozed out. He traced her outer lips, dipping in to play teasingly with her clit.

  Her hips wiggled, bucking slightly as she demanded more without words. So he gave, pulling his hand out to lift her skirt. He maneuvered his body so he was half lying on top of her, able to bend his head and move her panties aside once more, this time allowing his tongue to explore.

  She was soft like velvet and tasted like honey and cream. Slowly he tongued her clit, drawing in the dewy pearl and flicking it back and forth. He eased a finger inside, stroking her lining with tender touches.

  “Oh, yes!” she squealed, her hips moving in time with his thrusting finger. “Yes, yes!”

  A shudder ripped through her, and he applied more pressure on her sensitive nub. She cupped her breasts and started pinching her nipples, her body undulating with the added pleasure.

  “You have such a beautiful pussy,” he murmured, blowing slightly on it.

  And then she cried out and stiffened as cream coated his finger and tongue. She came with a small gasp, her body arching. A moment later, she relaxed, panting, her eyes slitting as she looked at him with a Cheshire grin wide on her face.

  “Come here,” she murmured. “I want to fuck you now.”

  Keaton rose up on his knees and reached for the condom, sheathing himself quickly. She gave a wicked little eyebrow wiggle and turned over, raising her hips as she cradled her head in the crook of her elbow.

  “Leave my panties on,” she told him. “Fuck me with the panties on.”

  “My pleasure,” he told her. He slapped her ass, seeing his handprint in the dim light.

  “Oh,” she groaned and wiggled her ass. “Again.”

  So he slapped again. She gave a longer moan. “Harder,” she panted. “Please.”

  Over and over he spanked her, each time letting part of the slap hit her quivering pussy. She was crying and moaning in pleasure, begging for more. He wondered how she would respond to Ash’s brand of spanking and suddenly realized he couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other.

  “Now!” she gasped. “Fuck me now!”

  He withdrew his hand and spread her thighs while holding her g-string to one side. He guided himself with his hand and, with one mighty push, thrust into her dripping pussy.

  “Ah!” she screamed, and used her hands to rear back, impaling herself more onto his cock.

  Inch by inch she slipped down until his balls slapped against her ass. He pulled back, not all the way out but far enough that he was able to ram forward. She grunted. Over and over he repeated, backward then forward, each thrust harder and wilder than the last. He grabbed her hips as he started to pound into her more hungrily.

  “Yes!” she was crying out. “Fuck me! That’s it! Oh…oh!”

  He felt her pussy convulse on his cock, clamping down on it like a vise. He leaned over her back, one hand grasping the back of her hair as the other hand reached to grab a breast. The position forced him to stay inside her, but he was still able to pump. Her walls now milked him, producing a suction-like feeling all on their own. It was too much—her heat, her body, all of it.

  “Holy fuck, you’re tight!” he gasped, and felt his whole body tighten. And then he exploded. He felt stream after stream pulsating out, lasting for what felt like an eternity. Then he collapsed, utterly spent.

  His heart thundered, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to move again. He’d only felt like this with one other person, and that was Ash. He definitely couldn’t wait until he introduced Momo to him.

  Using the last bit of his strength, he pulled out of her, and they both groaned at the delicious shivers of the aftermath. He pulled the condom off, noticing how full it was, and tied it off.

  “The trash is on the side,” she murmured lazily.

  He looked over the side and saw the bucket, tossing it carefully. Then he lay beside her, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

  “Damn, girl,” he said with a smile.

  “Get some rest, boy,” she countered. “We still have round two before morning.”

  Chapter Four

  The low, insistent chatter of a cell phone ring roused him. He hunted for it, knowing it had to be nearby, before awareness sunk in. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking around the incredibly small bedroom. He traced the sound of the phone and found his pants, pulling the phone out.

  He looked at the name. Ash.

  “Hello?” he said. “What time is it?”

  “Early. Where are you?”

  “Huh?”

  “You never made it back to the repository.”

  “Oh, yeah. I met Momo.”

  “Momo?”

  “Yeah, wait till you meet her.”

  There was a pause.

  “You still
there, Ash?”

  “Yes. You spent the night…you’re still with her?”

  “Yeah. You’re gonna love her.”

  “And you want me to meet her?”

  “Yeah, she’s great!”

  Again, Ash remained silent. Keaton started to feel uncomfortable. “So,” he finally said, “why don’t I meet you at Jack’s?”

  “Okay,” Ash said. “An hour.”

  He hung up. Keaton looked at his phone, perplexed. That had sounded so unlike Ash. Usually he was lighthearted, but he had sounded so flat on the phone it disturbed him.

  Momo opened the bedroom door as far as it would open and poked her head in. “I made some coffee,” she said with a small smile.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, stretching. “What time is it?”

  “Early.”

  He grunted. “Do you have to work today?”

  “I have the late shift tonight. Why?”

  “That was Ash on the phone. I want you to meet him.”

  “Really?’ she breathed. Her almond-shaped eyes squinted even more as she squealed a little. “Meeting Ash Lance? His melodies are amazing. I mean the arrangements are so unique. You and he make a great team.”

  Keaton raised an eyebrow to that statement but decided to keep quiet. Keaton jumped into the shower and washed off the night before, but as he dried off, he realized he didn’t have a change of clothes.

  He walked out of the tiny bathroom with a towel around his hips and his dark hair slicked back. Momo stood in the center of the room with a black T-shirt in one hand and black eyeliner in the other. She was dressed in another short skirt with socks pulled up to mid thigh and black clunker shoes. Her hair was parted down the middle, twisted up into two French braids. She left one long blue-streaked piece of hair to dangle on the side.

  “I think you can fit into the T-shirt,” she murmured. “And if not at least I’ll get to ogle your pecs.”