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“Is this really necessary?” I asked, as she spread the oil over my chest, my shoulders, even my back, which probably wouldn’t even be in the shot. A snicker sounded to my right, and I looked over to see Viper grinning and whispering something to the photographer. “Just wait till it’s your turn,” I told him.
He winked at me. “Don’t forgot his biceps. He works so hard for those.” Viper’s eyes were full of devilry as Molly went to work on my arms, and I couldn’t glare him down enough.
When my body was a complete oil slick, Jacques moved me into position, which just so happened to be in direct view of the sun, making me feel like I was an egg in a frying pan. I could practically hear my skin sizzling as he snapped away.
I told myself to relax, that this was the last thing I’d have to do today, and then I could take the longest shower known to man. Almost done…almost done…
“Halo, turn your face an inch to the right…a bit more… Why don’t you try looking at where Viper’s standing? Yes, that’s it.” Jacques’ camera snapped away as I stared at the man I’d been trying to avoid looking at all day. Viper ran a hand through his black hair, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles stretched with the move. His olive skin had darkened during our time in Miami, and somehow that only accentuated the ridges of his body and made him look even more enticing.
“Hold that look,” Jacques said, and I froze, not sure what it was he was seeing, but realizing if I’d been having thoughts about Viper, it was probably nothing good. A few more clicks of the camera and Jacques beamed at me. “Beautiful man. Thank you.”
“I’m all done?” I asked.
Jacques nodded and gestured for Viper to take my spot, but before I went anywhere, there was one thing I needed.
I caught Molly’s attention and gestured to what felt like an inch-thick layer of oil covering me. “Could I get a towel?”
“Of course.” She had rushed off again before the words were fully out of her mouth, and as I waited, Viper sauntered to where I stood.
With his back to everyone, he let his gaze travel down my chest and abs. “You sure you want that towel, Angel? This could be a fun slick and slide…”
I licked my lips, the sexual promise in his words so damn tempting that when the assistant came back with what I’d asked for, I thought twice about wiping myself off.
“Halo, you stay right there,” Jacques called out suddenly. “Molly, get rid of the towel.”
“Huh?” I squinted and brought my hand up to shade my eyes as I frowned at Jacques. “I thought I was done?”
“You were, but this…” Jacques gestured between me and Viper. “This I can work with. Molly? Oil up Viper.”
Twenty-Four
Viper
IF I THOUGHT Halo had looked worried before, the expression on his face as Molly rubbed oil into one of my arms, and then the next, was close to horrified. His eyes were wide and his mouth had fallen open, and when he glanced at Jacques and said, “Work with us how, exactly?” I almost lost it.
Jacques wasn’t known for elegant, proper photographs. He worked for some of the edgiest magazines in the world. So when he walked to where the two of us stood in our half-zipped jeans with our oiled-up torsos, to get a better look at Halo and myself, it didn’t take a genius to see where his mind was wandering.
“I like the feel of you two together. This vibe,” he said, as he wandered around behind Halo, whose head whipped to the left to peer at Jacques, who was now behind him.
“Uh, what vibe? Slick and uncomfortable?”
When Jacques stopped beside us, he grinned at Halo and shook his head. “No, no. Dark and light. Good angel,” he said to Halo, before turning to me and saying, “Bad angel.”
I snorted, because Jacques had just hit the nail on the head.
Jacques was nodding as he rubbed his fingers over his chin, his eyes roaming all over the front of me, much like Molly’s slippery hands. “I’m right, no?”
“No,” Halo said a little louder than I thought even he expected.
“No?” Jacques chuckled. “I can’t imagine Viper is a good angel.” When Jacques winked at me, I smirked, and his eyes lit up. “Yes! That right there. That’s all I need in the shoot. That expression and a guitar.”
“Huh?” I said, confused, then he gestured to my jeans.
“You can lose everything else,” he said.
“As in…?”
“Strip.” Jacques clapped his hands together. “Yes. Oh, I can see it all now.”
Uh, pretty sure that everyone would be seeing it all if he was serious.
“You with your guitar, slung across your hips, and Halo, we’ll have you next to him holding on to the neck of it. The curve of your hip mimicking the guitar and—”
