Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(36)

“Eyes on me but don’t move an inch. Set those jaws.” The photographer climbed up on a ladder to shoot us from above, and as I looked up, the light was blinding. I tried not to squint, but Jesus, it was like “move, but don’t move, look at me, but don’t look at me, keep your eyes open and try not to blink, look badass but not like an asshole,” and shit, how did models do this for a living? It was exhausting. I would’ve rather been answering invasive questions than have to do this. Then again, it was Rolling Stone, as in a cover and feature story, so if I had to stand here all day and pretend to scowl at the camera, then I’d do it. It just went to show how unglamorous things felt behind the scenes, even if the end result was kickass.

“All right, I wanna try something. A various stages of undress photo,” the photographer said.

“You want us to get naked, Jacques?” Jagger grinned, like he was totally down for it. Hell, he was already stripping his jacket off when the photographer—apparently named Jacques—held up his hand.

“Uh, not quite,” he said, waving his assistant over to fuss over our clothes. Jackets were stripped off, my pants were unbuttoned and slightly unzipped, and beside me, Viper lost his shirt. Great, like he wasn’t enough to look at fully clothed—now I had to stand here with Viper half-naked and positioned so all that warm skin brushed against me. They’d lifted my shirt up over my head but kept the sleeves on so that all of me was on display except for my arms. I had them crossed over my chest, which was a good damn thing, because it meant I couldn’t reach out to touch Viper, but skin on skin in front of everyone? Fucking torture. How the hell was I supposed to focus now?

“Can’t wait to get an eyeful of this when the magazine hits,” Viper murmured in my ear as the assistant adjusted the lighting. Taking advantage of the brief break, I looked back at him, but quickly caught my own eyeful. Viper’s hand was shoved down his pants. Down. His. Pants.

“What are you doing?” I said, not even bothering to mask my surprise.

Viper shrugged, but he had a smug grin on his face like he knew exactly what effect he was having on me. “Just doin’ what I’m told.” He trailed his eyes down my body to where my own pants were open and riding low on my hips and let out a low whistle. “Fuck me, Angel…”

“Later, if you’re lucky.”

“Really?” Viper’s eyes darkened. “I just might take you up on that.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Jagger said from beside Viper, and then he leaned forward to seek out Slade on the other side. “Hey, man, you wanna switch?”

“Switch? Why?” Slade asked.

Jagger shot him a look, and when it was clear Slade wasn’t following, he inclined his head toward me and Viper. But when he still didn’t get it and the photographer turned around, Jagger said, “Uh, ’cause the right side’s my better side.”

“You look fine from both sides,” Jacques said, waving him off, making it clear Jagger was stuck right where he was.

“Sorry,” I whispered to him, and Viper snorted.

“Suck it the fuck up, asshole,” he said. “You’re just jealous.”

Jagger shrugged. “Yeah, well, Halo is really pretty.”

Viper turned around, and I could only imagine the glare he gave Jagger then, because Jagger put his hands up and mumbled something I couldn’t hear, but it was enough to have Viper facing forward again.

We went through another series of shots for Jacques’ “various stages of undress” theme, and by the time it was over, I’d never been so glad for a food break.

“Halo, don’t go too far,” Jacques called out after me as I pulled the shirt off my arms and took off for the catering table. “We’ve got solo shots, but I’ll start with Killian. That goes for the rest of you too.”

Solo shots? Screw the food; where was the damn alcohol?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so miserable, Angel,” Viper said, coming up beside me.

“I preferred the interview, which should say a lot.”

Viper reached for one of the water pitchers lined up at the end of the table. He poured a couple of glasses and handed me one.

“No thanks. I need something stronger than water.”

“That’s not water.”

I sniffed the glass and reared back. “Holy shit.”

Viper chuckled and swallowed a mouthful. “They know how to keep their artists happy. Get ’em naked and liquored up.” Viper’s eyes heated as he took in the way my pants were still undone, and the fact that I’d gotten rid of my shirt. “Have to say, I fuckin’ approve.”

God, now was not the time to be looking at Viper the way I wanted to, not with all the people milling around. I needed to steer clear of him for the rest of the shoot unless I wanted to give us away.

“You need to go away.” I sipped my vodka and turned my attention to where Killian had finished his solo shoot and they had moved on to Slade. Even he looked more comfortable in front of the camera than I’d been. Maybe the alcohol would help me loosen up a bit.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Angel. Like I’m goin’ anywhere when you look like you wanna jump me.”

I snorted out a laugh. “That’s exactly why you need to get the fuck away from me. What happened to keeping this shit on the down-low?”