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I returned Viper’s heated look and dragged my hand down his chest, and as I continued moving down, the crowd cheered me on. I wrapped my palm around the bulge he sported behind his leather, and this close, I could hear the audible groan as he let me touch him. How the hell he was able to keep playing with my hand over his cock, I had no idea, but the audience went fucking nuts. I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me, and as I removed my hand, I brushed a light kiss on the back of Viper’s neck.
It was all I could do to walk away from him, but I did it, even though I felt drunk on lust. If anyone asked later, I’d blame it on the song. After all, I couldn’t exactly sing a song like “Hard” and not make everyone in the audience—and on stage—hard too. Could I?
Twenty-Seven
Viper
THAT SEXY, TEASING angel was all I could think, as Halo’s lips brushed over the back of my neck and he squeezed a firm hand around my cock, right there on stage in front of seventy thousand Fallen Angel fans.
The ear-splitting shouts as Halo walked in my direction had clued me in quick fucking smart that this crowd was more than okay with the two of us as an item, which was a good damn thing, because nothing on the planet would’ve been able to keep me from eye-fucking the seriously sexy man commanding the stage as though he’d been born on it.
Hell, if this crowd had had their way, their rabid screams and whistles were a clear indication that they would’ve been down with us doing a hell of a lot more than what Halo had deemed appropriate for his coming-out performance. But thankfully, the angel had taken pity on my aching dick and let me go to make his way out to the center of the stage, where he continued to drive his adoring fans out of their ever-loving minds.
From the moment Halo had hit the stage in his boots, jeans, white V-neck shirt, and that sexy leather jacket of his, everyone in the crowd had been laser focused on him. A quick sweep of the fans in the VIP sections showed both the women and men with their hands in the air as they chanted out Halo’s name and sang along, and that sex-hazed look in their eyes as they sang to him as though he were their boyfriend, their god, their motherfucking everything, had nothing to do with any fancy clothes or dance moves—it had everything to do with the fuck-ton of charisma pouring off him as he tore up our first set.
Fucking hell, he was bringing it tonight. Not that any of us had ever thought he wouldn’t. But even Halo had admitted he was a little nervous after the shitshow back in Savannah. I had a feeling, however, as I looked around at the rest of the guys, that by the end of tonight, the general consensus on that whole debacle would be: there was a show in Savannah? Because as far as I was concerned, this was Halo’s debut, his maiden flight, and when we’d come back from the short set break and he took his spot behind his piano for its grand entrance, I swear you would’ve been able to hear the thundering crowd all the way in Texas.
Christ, the angel had come alive tonight. I mean, I’d seen him perform on the talk shows and in rehearsals, but tonight was on a whole new level. He not only owned the crowd and everybody in it with his voice, he’d stripped out of his leather, and then his shirt, causing half the crowd to all but drop to their knees as he boldly announced his arrival on the music scene. By commanding, and winning over, a stadium full of people who could’ve gone anywhere else on this Friday night, but instead had come to seen him—to see us—a new band, with new songs, that they all knew by heart. It was unlike anything I’d seen before, and I’d seen a lot in my days, so I could only imagine how Halo was feeling as the lights went down for the final time after an encore of “Corruption,” amid screams and shouts for more.
As I lifted the guitar strap over my head, I saw Slade jump down from behind his drums and fist-bump Jagger, and as I put the guitar in its stand, I caught sight of Halo out of the corner of my eye striding back up the stage with only the shadows lighting his way.
Killian was hell fucking yeah-ing with Jagger and Slade as they slapped each other on the backs, and as I walked across the stage to meet Halo, he shocked the hell out of me by grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me in for a sweaty, hot kiss full of adrenaline.
