Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(46)



Shit. Did he have any idea the effect he had on me? The way my pulse sped up and my heart raced when he touched me? The way my cock throbbed at his words? We were polar opposites, but somehow we attracted each other the way magnets would, and once we fell together, it was hard to pry us apart.

Wanting my eyes on him, I circled Viper’s wrist and pulled his arm away enough that I could turn to face him, and what I saw nearly had my knees giving out. Fire swirled in those obsidian eyes, drawing me closer, and as our mouths crashed together, he moved his leg in between mine so I straddled his thigh. Tongues tangling, he rocked our hips along to the beat again, a slow grind, my erection pressing hard against his leg.

He dove in, taking more of my mouth as the words he’d written and I sang filled my ears. I barely noticed the guys laughing and joking in the background, too zeroed in on the way he kissed me like it was the first time he’d ever gotten a taste. I moaned into his mouth and could feel the way his thick length grew harder against my hip.

“All right, all right, break that shit up,” Jagger called out. “If I couldn’t bring a date, then you two can’t suck face all night.”

Viper pulled his mouth away long enough to tell him to fuck off before he moved back in, but I laughed and put my hands on his chest, keeping those deadly lips away from mine. If I didn’t, I knew where it would lead.

“And that is why we locked the bedrooms,” Killian said, and when I looked over my shoulder, he waved us over to join them.

I had to adjust myself before I went anywhere, and Viper groaned at the move.

“Seriously, Angel? You’re asking for me to bend you over this goddamn bar right here, right now.”

I trembled at the promise in those words, because I had no doubt he’d make good on it if I let him. But tonight wasn’t about us. It was about the band, and so with that in mind, I wrapped my hand around his wrist and tugged him along behind me toward the makeshift dance floor, Viper grumbling the whole way.

Killian grinned as we joined in the celebration. “Someone change the song to something less fuckable.”

“Hard” stopped abruptly, and as “September” by Earth, Wind & Fire began to play, the bartender brought out a tray full of drinks. Considering my head was already buzzing pretty damn good, I had no doubt we’d all remember maybe only half the night later.

Before any of us could take a sip, Slade said, “Wait, I wanna make a toast too.”

“Oh God, here we go,” Jagger said under his breath, but Slade heard him and went to punch him in the arm. It would’ve hurt if Slade hadn’t swayed on his feet and missed Jagger completely, stumbling into a nearby deck chair, half of his drink sloshing over his hand.

As he cursed and righted himself, the rest of us broke out into a peal of laughter until Viper brought his hand to his mouth and let out a loud whistle.

“How about I take this one, Slade,” Viper said. Slade responded with a shrug, licking the spilled alcohol off his hand, and then Viper lifted his drink. “To us, motherfuckers!”

“To us,” we all chanted. And as we guzzled down our drinks and the rest of the night turned fuzzy, a feeling of warmth spread through my chest at belonging to something bigger than myself. I’d known I was part of the band, but it hadn’t been until tonight that I felt truly, one hundred percent accepted.





Twenty-Nine





Halo





ONCE WE’D GOTTEN back to New York, MGA didn’t waste time calling us all together for a meeting. I still hadn’t unpacked, though I’d been home for a couple of days, and I had to rummage through the back of my closet for something decent to wear. Apparently we’d be meeting with Marshall Gellar, the head of MGA, and the last thing I needed to do was show up in a pair of ripped jeans from high school.

I settled on a light grey Henley shirt, sleeves pushed up, and managed to find some dark jeans that would suffice, and then I grabbed the jar of styling cream from my bag and headed to the bathroom. I ran it through the curly mess in an attempt to tame it a bit, which was never an easy feat. While we’d been in Miami, I’d taken to wearing it up, away from my face since it was so hot and humid, but for today I needed to make a little effort. Not to mention Viper liked when I wore it down, or at least I assumed he did, because he could never keep his hands out of my hair.

Once I was satisfied it was as good as it was gonna get, I took a step back and looked myself over in the mirror. Imogen had already given me hell about the way my skin had bronzed under the Miami sun, and I had to admit, it looked a lot better than the pale white I was accustomed to in New York winters. But the city had thawed out since we’d been gone, the days growing longer and warmer, and I wasn’t complaining.

As I wrapped my leather strap around my wrist, my cell buzzed on the counter, and I looked down to see Viper’s text.

Viper: Get your sexy ass in the car, Angel.

Grinning, I shot back a quick message and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand. The worries I’d had over whether this thing with Viper would fizzle out once we got back to the city had been unfounded, though I hadn’t seen him since we’d landed. He’d needed to check on his mom, I’d needed to visit with my family, and really, I’d seen him every day for over two months, so two days apart should’ve been a breeze.

Talk about fucking torture.

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