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“And this body,” I said, and trailed my fingers down the length of Halo’s naked skin on the cover, as I rocked my hips forward in time with the rhythmic strokes I was giving his cock. “This body is going to make every person who sees this cover wish they were me.”
Halo’s moan was tortured when it came, and as he white-knuckled the counter, his head fell forward, and I drew the magazine closer to him.
“Look at us,” I repeated, and when Halo’s head came up and I knew his eyes were on the two of us, I said, “This is the sexiest fucking photo I have ever seen in my life.”
As I began to move my hips and hand faster, Halo moved his hand over the top of the image and his breathing became rapid.
“The only negative I can think of,” I said against the taut skin of his shoulder, my impending orgasm making my balls tighten, “is how unlucky everyone who sees it is. Because they’re never gonna get to see you fly apart the way I’m about to.”
As I bit into Halo’s shoulder and tightened my fist around the head of his dick, Halo clutched at the cover, snatched it off the counter, and shoved it down the front of his body.
When Halo tensed, and a loud shout followed not seconds after, I knew exactly what my fallen angel had just done, and that was all I needed to push me over the edge.
“Oh my God,” Halo said on a rush of air, as he remained propped up by a seriously shaky hand on the countertop, while the other was down in front of him.
A low chuckle left me as I wrapped both arms around his waist and rubbed my body up against his, covering us both in the sticky evidence of my arousal.
“I can’t believe I just did that.” Halo brought the magazine up and looked down at the mess he’d made of our cover. “Umm…sorry?”
I reached out for the magazine and pressed a kiss to his ear. “Don’t be. I didn’t think this cover could get any better, but I think you just proved me wrong.” Halo turned his head to look at me, but I kept my eyes focused on the picture. “In fact, I just might frame it.”
“You would not,” Halo said, mortified.
I finally turned to look at him and kiss his shocked lips. “Angel, don’t you know by now? When it comes to you, I’d do just about anything.”
Twelve
Halo
JAGGER SWEPT INSIDE the private room at Salam, a Lebanese restaurant not far from Viper’s place, and looked over to where Slade, Viper, and I sat at the lone dining table.
“Am I late?” he said. “Wait, Killian’s not here. Shit, I’m on time.” Jagger straightened the collar of his suit jacket and sat in the chair beside Slade.
Killian had been on the hunt for a new band manager for the last couple of weeks, and last night he’d shot us all a text asking us to meet him here at noon, saying he had news. Whether that news would be what Viper hoped—that our old manager, Brian, had lost all his clients and had to resort to cleaning toilets at Burger Barn—was anybody’s guess, but if I had to place bets, the news would have more to do with a possible replacement than Brian’s current situation.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Could you guys sign this?” Jagger pulled a folded magazine out of his inside jacket pocket, along with a Sharpie, and when he slid it across the table toward me and Viper, I got a look at what it was.
Our Rolling Stone cover.
“Get outta here with this shit,” Viper said, shoving the magazine across the table.
“But I need a signature from Fallen Angel’s power couple. You guys are just sooo hot.” Jagger batted his lashes, and I flicked the pen in his direction. He caught it easily, laughing as he placed it back inside his jacket.
“Why’d they put baby oil all over you?” Slade asked, nose wrinkling as he looked down at the magazine.
“It wasn’t baby oil,” I said, but then looked at Viper. “Was it?”
Before Viper could respond, the door opened and Killian walked in, followed by a man I’d never seen before. My eyes shot straight down to the pink pants he wore, so bright they were practically fluorescent. He’d paired them with a white collared shirt beneath a fitted blue sports jacket and a pair of loafers, and his dark hair was buzzed short except for the front, where long, pale blond strands had been artfully arranged.
Who was this guy?
“Great, you’re all here. Shocking, Jagger,” Killian said, and then gestured to his guest. “Guys, meet Levi Walker.” He went around the table and introduced us to Levi, and when they took a seat, I noticed the frown on Viper’s face. It was the same one he had when he first saw me.
