He looked up. Strands of dark hair covered his face, and when he saw that I was awake, he tucked them behind his ear. We didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared at each other. I wondered what he was doing awake so early, but I hadn’t recognized the song he’d been playing, so maybe inspiration had struck, as it sometimes did in the dead of sleep.
“The Viper is christening my new baby, I see.” I gave him a lazy smile, content to lie there and listen to him all morning.
“Just playing with myself. Something I like to do often,” he said, shooting me a wink.
“Mmm.” I moved onto my back so I could get a better look at him. “Don’t stop on my account.”
Viper ran a hand through his hair, and as he bent down over my guitar again and began to play, I stretched out and kicked off the too-warm covers. Cool air glided over my naked body, and as I angled my head to watch Viper, his eyes shot up, immediately darkening.
“Angel…” It sounded like a warning, which only made me want to go further.
Under his perusal, my cock stirred, and as he continued to play, I decided I should join in and put my fingers to good use.
I brought my hand up to my neck and, keeping my eyes on Viper’s face, let my fingers trail down over my throat and then down my chest, pausing only to encircle one of my nipples. As Viper licked his lips, he stopped his movements, and I stopped mine.
“You play, I play,” I said, and he stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head.
“Someone woke up a fuckin’ tease.”
The music started up again, and I tweaked my nipple between my thumb and forefinger before flattening my palm and sliding it down over my abs. As the tips of my fingers reached the tight crop of curls below my hips, a low growl sounded from across the room, and I grinned in satisfaction.
Feeling every bit of Viper’s heated gaze, I brought my hand up to my mouth, and when I sucked two fingers deep inside, the song stuttered before he was able to get it back on track. Once my fingers were good and wet, I wrapped them around my growing erection, and Viper cursed.
I groaned and arched up into the tight feel of my fist as I slid my hand up and down my length, but when the music stopped again, so did I.
“You’re fuckin’ serious about this ‘you play, I play’ shit, huh?” Viper shook his head, and as his fingers plucked at the strings again and I resumed jerking myself off, he stood up from the chair and walked over to the edge of the bed. I writhed under the shadow of him, loving the way he watched me so intently, and the way he bit down on his lip like he was struggling not to say “fuck it” and climb in the bed for a taste. I’d never be opposed to that, but shit, his gaze on me as I got myself off was so hot that my pre-cum more than coated the entire length of my dick.
I matched my movements to the music, a slow, seductive melody that allowed me time to inch my way up from the base of my cock to the head in a delicious yet tormenting slide. Viper’s eyes locked on my grip, and the longer he played, the faster the music became. I wasn’t even sure Viper noticed the change as I began to pump my cock with more urgency than I had before, but as I steamed closer to release, I heard him say, “So goddamn sexy, Angel.”
Spreading my legs farther apart, I continued to stroke myself with one hand while reaching down with the other to run my fingers along my perineum, and Viper’s knee hit the mattress. He was so close, but had enough self-control somehow to merely watch, even though the angle he was at now showed me exactly how turned on he was behind the guitar.
It reminded me of the times I’d gotten off watching Viper on my laptop, and here he was now, in the flesh, close enough to touch, and devouring every move I made. He made me feel like the hottest motherfucker on the planet, and suddenly I was too far away.
Releasing my hold, I crawled to the edge of the bed and sat up on my knees. There were only inches between us as I gripped my cock again, and as a bead of sweat trailed down my neck, Viper leaned in, swiping it away with a long lick that sent a shiver through my body.
Fuck this no-touching shit. I wanted his mouth on me.
Before he could move away, I dove in for a kiss, but as my lips brushed his, he jerked away and smirked.
“Uh uh,” he said, taking a step back. “That’s against the rules.”
“Fuck the rules.”
He tsked. “How about you fuck yourself instead?” Then he moved back toward the bed, angling his head so that I could feel his breath on my neck. “Show me how you got off that first night we got here when I heard you come, Angel. Let me see you.”
My head fell back as I grunted, my balls drawing up tight. Shit, how would I ever resist Viper and his damn mouth? I’d been fully in control of this show, but a command from him and I was ready to fall apart for him.
I’d been lying down that first night, but with my orgasm barreling down my spine, I didn’t have time to move. I could only watch Viper watching me, and when the explosion finally hit, I moaned his name as the world went white.
Twenty
Viper
SOMETHING HAD CHANGED. Nothing that you could see or touch. But something between the angel and me had definitely shifted.
I wasn’t sure when it happened exactly, but if I had to pinpoint it, I’d guess it was the moment I’d opened the door for Halo at The Rusty Pelican last night. That seemed to be the moment I opened a whole lotta other things, too. Things I wasn’t familiar with. Things that had been bangin’ around in my head so loudly last night that I hadn’t been able to sleep.
What the fuck was I doing? That seemed to be the question at the top of the list, and no matter how many times I asked myself, I couldn’t seem to come up with an answer. Not a good one, anyway. Not one that made any sense.
From the moment I set eyes on Halo, I’d wanted to get closer to him. I’d wanted to touch him, taste him, fuck him—things I’d now done, many times over—but where that would’ve usually been enough, the hunger and the need satisfied, I found myself wanting more. More time with him, more tastes of him, more everything. What the hell was that all about? It was that realization that had me knocking on the bathroom door and telling him, “Meet me in the kitchen,” instead of joining him under the warm water. I needed a minute to myself, and a minute to get my head on straight.
The mansion was quiet as a church as I made my way down the hall, the guys still dead to the world, and I knew they’d be that way until at least noon. They’d still been out when Halo and I got home last night, so there was no way any of them would surface until lunch. So for now I was making breakfast for two, and when my stomach tightened with pleasure at the idea of having the angel to myself for a little longer, I rolled my eyes.
Halo had me so wound up that I wanted to steal him away so he only looked at me, talked to me, thought about me, and the idea of having even a couple hours more with him alone this morning made me happier than a kid at a damn candy store.
Jesus. Thank fuck the guys couldn’t read my mind, or Halo, for that matter—they’d laugh me out the house. I knew if it were one of them I’d never let up, but I couldn’t seem to help it. The second Halo walked into a room, I—
“Gonna cook me breakfast this morning?”
—wanted my hands on him. “I figured you might be hungry after that performance of yours.”
Halo chuckled as he made his way to where I was grabbing a frying pan out of one of the lower cupboards. After his shower, he’d pulled on a pair of faded jeans that fit him in all the right places, with a shirt the same light green as his eyes. He’d left his feet bare and pulled his hair into a knot at the back of his neck, and he was so damn appealing I wanted to take his hand and tug him in close enough to kiss.
Fuuuck.
“You okay?” Halo said as he sidled up close to me, and I wondered what he’d say if I told him I was fine, I just wanted to hold his fucking hand.
Yeah, how about keep your mouth shut, Viper.
“Sure,” I lied as I put the pan on the stovetop. “Why do you a
sk, Angel? Don’t I look fine?”
Halo’s eyes lowered to my jeans and up to the black The Nothing shirt I wore, then he grinned. “You look sexy. You should’ve joined me in the shower.”
As he reached for me, I took a step back, disguising the dodge by moving over to the fridge. But I needed some distance; he was messing with my head. Hell, my whole body.
I pulled the doors open and looked inside. “Eggs and bacon work for you?” I called over my shoulder.
“Sounds perfect. You want some coffee?” Halo asked as he moved to the Nespresso machine at the far end of the counter.
“What do you think?”
“Yes. You aren’t human until you have your coffee.”
As I grabbed some butter, the carton of eggs, and a package of bacon, I felt a hand on my lower back, and then the fresh scent of Halo’s soap wafted around me as he moved into my personal space and peered over my shoulder into the fridge.
“Will you pass me the milk?” he said.
The question wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but with his warm breath on the back of my neck, every nerve ending in my body was on high alert, and when he ran his hand down to my ass and squeezed, I quickly turned and held my full hands up. “You’ll have to grab it.”
Halo chuckled as I sidestepped him to head back to the stove, and as I went, I shut my eyes and told myself to pull it together. Since when was I hyperaware of every single thing another person did? This was bordering on ridiculous.
“So should I be worried you’re cooking for me?” Halo asked as he shut the fridge and made his way back to the coffee machine.
I flipped on the burner, and after I had the frying pan and butter heating, I glanced over to where Halo was busy getting out two cups and the coffee pods. “Nope. Mom made sure I knew how to cook. Told me if I was gonna survive being some poor musician traveling the country in an RV with a bunch of yahoos, I needed to know how.”
Halo laughed, and when I looked at him, he was leaning up against the counter watching me. “So you all cook?”
“Fuck no.” I scoffed. “Killian can grill, and I can cook, but everyone else? Forget it. And Trent, he was the fuckin’ worst. Couldn’t even boil an egg, that guy.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’d be surprised if he even knew where they were in the grocery store.” I chuckled as I thought about the time he’d “helped” with dessert at Killian’s parents’ house, only to pour a shit-ton of salt into the cake mix instead of sugar.
“You guys have been friends a long time, huh?” When I cut my eyes to him, Halo added, “I mean you were.”
“Right,” I agreed, then heard myself say, “He would’ve liked you.”
When Halo’s eyes widened, I tried to understand why I’d said that. I didn’t give two shits what Trent Knox was doing these days. I didn’t even care if he liked what we were doing here with Fallen Angel. But I figured Halo would like to think that the man he’d come in here to replace would approve of him.
“You think?”
I nodded, dragged my eyes away from his, and went back to stirring the eggs, shoving aside the emotion that was making my heart thump a little harder at the pleasure I saw in Halo’s eyes. “I do. Okay, how many pieces of bacon?”
“Oh,” Halo said as he took the cup from the machine and brought it over to me. When he put it down beside me, he aimed a smile at me that did jack shit to calm my thumping heart. “How about four?”
“You got it.”
Halo’s eyes narrowed, and when he cocked his head to the side, I thought he was going to call me out on being a fucking weirdo this morning. But instead he said, “What time did you say Rolling Stone was coming tomorrow?”
Oh thank fuck. “Um, I think Kill said nine?”
Halo nodded as he walked backward toward the coffee machine. “Got it.”
“You nervous?”
“Yes and no.”
I chuckled as I picked up the pan and divided the eggs onto two plates. “You haven’t got anything to be nervous about—you know that, right?”
“Uh, no. They’re going to be asking a bunch of questions and taking a million photos that are supposed to ‘launch’ Fallen Angel. That’s only slightly terrifying.”
“You’re going to do great.” As I laid the strips of bacon in the pan, I glanced down the counter to where Halo was looking over at me, seeking my approval, as he always did when he was unsure.
“You think?”
Was there really any doubt? I’d been mesmerized from the second Halo walked in the door, and I was starting to believe there was no damn cure for it.
“Angel, they’re not gonna know what hit ’em.”
Twenty-One
Halo
THE ROLLING STONE feature was in full swing at the mansion the next morning. I stood beside Viper in the corner of the kitchen, both of us drinking our coffees as we watched crews of people pouring in: hair and makeup artists, costume designers, the lighting crew, the photographer and his assistants, a catering team, the journalist who’d be interviewing us, and a rep from MGA, since Brian was currently across the country dealing with one of his other artists. People everywhere, and a knot in my stomach the size of a damned grapefruit and still growing.
“Don’t be nervous,” Viper said, then took a sip of his coffee as he surveyed the chaos.
“I’m not.”
He snorted and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, okay. Because I can’t read you like a fuckin’ book.”
“You don’t read books.”
With a chuckle, Viper shook his head. “Someone woke up a smartass. Care to use that mouth on me while we wait?”
I jerked around to make sure no one was within earshot, and when I saw the coast was clear, I said, “You can’t say that shit to me today. Not with all these people around.”
“Relax, Angel. No one’s paying us any attention…yet.”
Yet was the operative word, because soon the spotlight would be directed our way, and who knew what kind of questions would be lobbed at me. The only saving grace was that Viper and the other guys would have my back, since we’d be doing the interview and photo shoot together.
“Can I get Fallen Angel to gather on the outside patio, please?” the director of today’s shoot called out over the noise.
“You ready?” Viper flipped on the faucet and rinsed his cup out, and after I downed the rest of my coffee, I did the same.
“Do I have a choice? Can I sit this one out?”
“Gotta come out sometime, Angel.” Viper shot me a wink to go along with the double entendre, and I rolled my eyes.
“Wasn’t planning on it today.” I followed him out onto the patio, where Killian, Slade, and Jagger had already gathered around a small woman with bright fuchsia hair that was shaved on one side and flipped over on the other in a punk-rock style. As we stopped beside her, she peered up at us, her eyes rimmed heavy with purple liner, and then she put her hand out.
“You must be Halo. I’m Imelda Wainwright. I’ll be the one interviewing you guys today and making sure everything runs smoothly. If you need anything, anything at all, you come to me, got it?”
I nodded and forced a smile as I shook her hand, her grip surprisingly fierce in spite of her petite stature.
“Thanks, Imelda,” I said, hoping I’d somehow charm the pants off this woman and the rest of America. Well, not literally.
As Viper shook Imelda’s hand, he lifted his chin toward me. “Take it easy on this guy. It’s his first time.”
“A virgin, huh?” Imelda’s eyes glittered as she looked back at me. “Can’t say I’ll take it easy. He looks angelic, but I bet he’s a guy who doesn’t mind it rough.”
It was too damn early in the morning for the heat to hit my cheeks, but it did anyway, especially as I heard Viper cough out a laugh and Jagger say, “As someone who rooms a few doors down from Halo, I can confirm the headboard banging.”
My eyes practically flew out of my head as
I stared at my soon-to-be-dead bandmate, but Jagger only grinned.
“Breaking hearts already,” Imelda said. “You guys are gonna be fun.”
She told us to hang out and grab some food and drinks from the catering table while she checked on the setups happening inside, and after we’d piled our plates high, we sat beneath the open umbrella. The sun was already beating down, and combined with the humidity from an overnight shower, it was stifling at the early morning hour.
“Sorry, Halo,” Jagger said, pulling apart a croissant. “You know I gotta give you shit.”
“Long as you know payback’s a bitch.”
Jagger spread his hands. “Hey, I didn’t say who.”
“Good fuckin’ thing,” Viper said. “I’d hate to have to drown our best keyboardist.”
“I’m your only damn keyboardist,” Jagger protested.
Viper sent a pointed look in my direction. “Halo’s pretty good on the keyboard. You can be replaced.”
“Fine.” Jagger held his hands up. “My mouth is zipped.”
When Imelda came back out again, she took the open seat beside Killian, set her phone in the center of the table to record the conversation, and then settled back with a pen and a binder of notes.
“All right, guys, go around the table and say your name so when I play it back I know who’s who,” she said.
Slade started things off, and once we’d done our introductions, Imelda dove into the questions.
“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” she said. “When Halo joined the band, you guys were still reeling from the departure of former frontman Trent Knox from TBD—”
Viper mumbled something rude as Jagger sighed and Slade rolled his eyes. Only Killian kept a professional stance, but the reactions didn’t slip by Imelda.
VIPER (Fallen Angel Book 2) Page 10
