Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(31)

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 ask, 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.