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I eyed him for a beat, wondering if he even realized what he’d just said, and when the elevator door opened, I said, “I can show you exactly what I want, Angel. Let’s go.”
Twenty-Three
Halo
AS SOON AS the doors of the private elevator that led into Viper’s condo opened, I realized my mistake.
When I’d asked for Viper’s help in working out where I was going wrong with the song, it didn’t occur to me that we’d end up at his place…alone. But as my eyes caught the floor-to-ceiling view of Central Park covered in a golden haze from the setting sun, I froze. With that view straight ahead, the lyrics in my hand, and Viper’s close proximity, I was so screwed.
“I know the elevator has killer acoustics, but if you want my help, you should come inside,” Viper said over his shoulder.
As the doors began to close, I stopped them with my arm and then stepped inside Viper’s place.
Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad. Viper strolled ahead of me, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it over the back of his couch, and then he turned to face me as he pushed up the sleeves of his shirt.
He doesn’t know about what you did last night. Just work on the song and get out. No big deal.
Viper crooked his finger for me to come closer, and I pushed aside my hesitation and walked forward into the living room—though as I looked around, I saw that, like Killian, he had an open floor plan, with a bar separating his living and dining areas. The walls on the side were glass, and the thought popped into my head that maybe his bedroom was too.
What the hell? I don’t care about his bedroom. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to think about it. Now I was lying to myself.
“Would you like a tour?” Viper asked, once again like he could read my damn mind.
I held up the lyric sheet. “I think we should work on this.”
“Gotcha.” He crossed to an electric-blue armchair and lounged back onto it. “Go on, then.”
And now I had to sing these fucking words. Great idea, Halo. Really. Brilliant.
I cleared my throat and looked down at the lines Viper had written. It’d been hard enough getting through the song in front of the other guys, but now? With only Viper as my audience? Something about it felt too intimate, or maybe it was the fact that every time I looked at him, I could still feel the epic orgasm that had come from watching him.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Viper said. “Sit if you want to.”
Comfortable? Fat chance of that happening. I didn’t need to get comfortable at Viper’s place—I needed to fix my part of this song and get the hell out, so I stayed standing.
Viper shrugged. “Or not.”
Cutting the small talk short, I began to sing, but I’d only gotten as far as the second line before Viper interrupted.
“You’re starting it wrong. Yeah, you need that frustration later, but you’ve gotta build to that. Really think about the words here. You’re turned on as fuck, and you’re not about to apologize for it.”
I swallowed and dropped my gaze back down. I heard what he was saying, but it was impossible not to think about Viper writing these lines. Blocking it out completely was the only way I could get through the song, but it wasn’t giving Viper what he wanted. When I tried again, I closed my eyes, but he didn’t let me get through the first verse before stopping me.
“Halo, I’ve seen you onstage practically fucking the mic stand, so what’s the problem here?”
“I…don’t know.” Another lie, but what was I supposed to tell him? The truth?
“That’s bullshit. You know how to bring it, but you’re holding back. Why?”
I ran a hand over my face and sighed. “It’s just not coming.”
Viper sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he studied me, and then he pushed up off the chair. “Okay, we need to try something different. Tell me about your last fuck.”
I coughed in surprise. “What?”
“Let me clarify: the last hot fuck.”
“And that’s important why?”
“Because that’s what this song is about. A hot fuck. Or at least the promise of one.”
Fucking was the last thing we needed to talk about, especially since the last hot one on my mind involved my fist and the man in front of me.
Viper let out a low whistle. “Damn. No hot fucks recently. That’s a shame.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to, Angel.” He began to walk a slow circle around me. “Okay, what about this. I want you to close your eyes. Go on, do it.”
I hesitated for a moment before doing as he asked.
“Good,” he said. “Now think about what turns you on. If you were at home right now, what would get you off? Porn? Maybe a picture you keep in your bedside drawer? Or someone forbidden…someone you shouldn’t want, but you can’t help yourself.”
