Halo (Fallen Angel, #1)(66)
“I saw you on Late Night,” Chris, the drummer and songwriter of the group, said, coming over to greet me with a handshake as well. “Epic song, man.”
I blinked at him, a thank you on my lips, but unable to come out, because fuckin’ Chris from The Nothing just said my song was good, and I could die now.
“I saw it, too. Several times,” the bassist, Jonny, said, his eyes dropping down my body, checking me out with no subtlety whatsoever. He took in a drag of his joint, holding it in for a moment, and then blew the smoke out. “That pretty mouth of yours really knows how to sing.”
“Uh, thanks,” I said, thrown a little off guard by his blatant perusal. Unlike the reaction I had when Viper ran his eyes over me, I found myself uneasy under this guy’s gaze.
“If you want to stick around after the show, my cock would love to see just how talented it is.”
Beside me, Viper tensed and went to take a step toward Jonny, but I put a hand on Viper’s arm, halting him from coming to my defense.
“Jonny, isn’t it?” I said. “I was a big fan of yours…in middle school.”
“Oh shit,” Chris said, snorting out a laugh and slapping Jonny on the back as laughter broke out around us.
“It’s like that, huh?” Jonny said, his eyes narrowed on me so hard they were practically slits. “Good luck filling Trent’s shoes, kid.” He put the joint back between his lips and walked out, leaving an awkward silence in his wake—especially when we realized the reporter had caught every bit of that exchange.
“Sorry about that,” Dex said, rolling his eyes. “He’s been such a cheerful bastard since he’s been out of rehab, what can I say?” To the reporter, he said, “Don’t write that down.”
The reporter looked up as if caught, and then scratched out the last few lines on the page.
“He’s always been a fuckin’ dick,” Viper said, and Dex shrugged.
“We’ve fired him more times than I can count, but he always worms his way back in.” Dex leaned around me to say to the reporter, “Don’t include that shit either.”
We grabbed drinks and hung out with the remaining members, bar Jonny, until they had to head onstage. Again, the word “surreal” popped into my head, because even as normal as they were, cutting up and recalling inside jokes with Viper, they were still the larger-than-life guys I’d grown up listening to, and no matter how many times I pinched myself, it still wasn’t sinking in that I was a part of it all.
Before we headed out to watch the show from the wings—a first for me—Chris said, “You guys free after the show? The hotel’s shutting down the top floor for us. Free booze, lots of willing bodies—and don’t worry, Jonny’ll have other distractions.”
“Um…” I glanced at Viper, who shook his head.
“We’ve got other plans,” he said, and when Viper’s eyes met mine and I saw the primal look in them, suddenly, the last thing I wanted to do was stick around after the show. That look was full-on sex, and had both my cock and pulse throbbing. Because whatever Viper had in mind, it was clear he wanted to do it without others around…and fuck, I wanted that too.
“If you change your mind, just give them the password ‘boa’ at the door. Good to meet you, Halo, and good luck.” Dex and Chris both said their goodbyes, and as we followed them out to the wings, Viper’s fingers slid beneath the loop of my jeans, pulling me back into him.
“I told you, Angel,” he said in a low whisper. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”
Forty-Four
Viper
THE HEAVY BEAT blasting from the megawatt speakers of The Nothing’s impressive stage was making the floor in the wings vibrate as they belted out one hit song after another, causing their fans to lose their fucking minds.
They’d been at it now for nearly an hour and a half, and I wasn’t sure what was louder, Chris pounding on the drums or the screams from the fans below as they chanted out every single lyric at an ear-piercing level.
One thing I was sure of was the total rush I got from watching a kickass band tear up a stage with music that made your entire body hum and your mind think of one thing only—sex.
Hot, raw, break-the-headboard sex. Add in Halo, who was standing in front of me, his ass brushing up against my dick as he shouted the lyrics to songs that had no doubt accompanied couples to beds, to the backs of cars, hell, to restrooms at clubs when things got out of hand, and my entire focus had shifted from the guys on the stage to the guy standing in front of me.
Halo was looking totally fuckable in his jeans and white linen shirt that had been playing a game of look-but-can’t-touch with me all night. With its three-quarter sleeves and open V-neck, the shirt should’ve been a deterrent, considering all that it covered. But when the light hit him just the right way, every delicious inch of him from the waist up was displayed, and I wanted my hands and mouth back on him as soon as fucking possible.
Glancing over my shoulder, I took in the dark corridor to the left of the stage area that led to a set of stairs behind an exit door. I’d found them by accident during a performance TBD had done here, when I’d been wanting to go outside for a smoke before we hit the stage. Instead, I’d ended up in a maze of tunnels beneath the arena that were like a rabbit warren. The perfect place to go so no one could find you.