by Frank, Ella
“So are you two excited about the tour?” Cheryl asked. “Where’s the first stop?”
Halo looked to me to answer.
“Atlanta,” I said, as a waiter approached with our bottle of wine, and when I nodded, he uncorked it and Larry did the tasting honors. “And yeah, it’s gonna be somethin’, all right. Halo’s gonna blow everyone away.”
“We can’t wait to see it.” Cheryl took a sip of her Chardonnay, and both my and Halo’s eyes bugged out.
“You can’t come see the show,” Halo blurted out.
“Why not?”
“Because…” He glanced sideways at me, but hell no was I about to tell his parents it would be an inappropriate show. Instead, I took a long gulp of wine. “It’s not really your thing,” he finished.
“Sure it is,” Larry said. “We listened to the album—”
“Oh God.” Halo slumped in his seat.
“It’s fantastic. I like that song… Which one was it, Cheryl? The one with the moon and stars?”
“‘Dark Angel,’” Cheryl said. “So catchy. We heard it playing on the way here, didn’t we, Larry?”
He nodded. “We did.”
“But don’t worry,” she continued. “We didn’t listen to the ones that said ‘explicit content’ beside them.”
Fuck me. I never even considered that Halo’s parents—fucking Cheryl Olsen—would ever listen to our shit, but at least it seemed like she hadn’t heard the song I wrote about her son making me hard.
I suddenly needed something stronger than white wine.
“Well, we’ll be playing that explicit content, so maybe you and Dad could sit this tour out.” Halo’s face had turned a gorgeous shade of red, and my fingers itched to feel the heat of his skin under my hands.
“That’s ridiculous,” Cheryl said at the same time Larry muttered, “We’re going whether you like it or not.”
When Halo’s head dropped into his hands, I swallowed, not sure what the fuck to say. They definitely didn’t need to see the show, but when they both looked my way expectantly, I said, “We can make sure you’ve got passes for the show here.”
Halo’s head shot up. “What?”
I felt my face heat, and not from the wine. Shit, what had I just offered? Fucking tickets?
Before I could say anything, Cheryl sent a victorious smile my way. “Thank you, Viper. Halo never used to tell us where he was performing, so it’s not often we get to see one of his shows.”
Christ, and their first glimpse was gonna be Halo singing about my blue balls. Motherfucker.
Thankfully, the appetizers came out then, and after we gave our entree orders, I kicked Halo under the table to change the damn subject.
“So, there’s something I wanted to show you,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through until he found what he was looking for, and then set the phone in front of his parents.
Cheryl’s mouth parted. “Is that for your tour?” She looked up at Halo. “Will you be playing that piano?”
“That’s incredible.” Larry picked up the phone to get a closer look, pinching his fingers over the screen to zoom in. “Look, Cheryl, it’s a Steinway & Sons, just like yours.”
“Only covered in feathers,” she said. “I’m a little jealous. That’s absolutely stunning.”
Halo reached for my hand under the table and held it on my thigh. “It was a gift from Viper. He designed it himself.”
“You designed this?” Cheryl said, astonishment on her face, and then she looked at Halo. “And you get to keep this after the tour?”
Halo beamed. “Yes and yes.”
“But…you can’t possibly put this in your apartment.” Larry’s nose scrunched up when the words “your apartment” crossed his lips, which meant his feelings on Halo’s place were about the same as mine. As in, we should just burn it the fuck down.
Halo took his phone back and slid it in his pants’ pocket. “I know. I’ll be looking for a new place when the U.S. leg of the tour wraps.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought about Halo wanting a new place of his own, not when I did my damned best to keep him in my bed every night. But it made sense he’d want something of his own. As long as it was close by and we could switch off nights, I supposed it was okay. Maybe.
“Viper, what a sweet thing to do for Halo,” Cheryl said.
Sweet? Did she just use my name and the word “sweet” in the same sentence?
“I’m impressed. How tall are those wings?” Larry asked.
“About fifteen feet, give or take a couple of inches.” Hell, I would’ve had them made even bigger if I’d thought they would fit anywhere other than a stadium.
Larry let out a low whistle as Cheryl said, “Well, I can’t wait to see them in person. At your show.”
Halo groaned again, his head falling against my shoulder, his hand still in mine under the table. The chuckle that escaped my throat was cut off when I looked up to see Larry and Cheryl watching us, similar smiles on their faces, ones that told me they approved of not only me, but our relationship.
My biggest concern walking into tonight was that Halo’s parents wouldn’t know how much he meant to me. But the way they looked at us now had all those worries disappearing like smoke.
Twenty-Six
Halo
THE MUSIC PULSED, a loud, heavy beat that vibrated through my entire body, getting faster and faster as the platform I stood on beneath the stage began to rise.
This was it, Fallen Angel’s first show on the Corruption tour, and my heart was beating so hard that it almost drowned out the sound of Slade pounding the drums. Months of planning and rehearsing had brought us to this, a sold-out stadium of screaming fans, and this time, it wasn’t Trent’s name they were calling out—it was mine.
I held the microphone loosely by my side as I took a deep breath in, held it, then exhaled, sending the rest of my tension out with it. I’d spent the last hour pacing backstage, trying to work off the anxiety I could feel trying to creep its way into my bones. Trying to watch Sonic Edge, the band opening for us, didn’t work, because I’d been unable to sit still, excitement edging out my nerves, but just barely. Viper had given up trying to get me to calm down, leaving me to prepare for tonight however I needed to. His way of getting ready was relaxing backstage with a drink and joking with the guys. That was way too calm for how I was feeling.
I just needed to get this first show under my belt. I needed to prove not only to myself but to the fans that I could command their attention for two hours and give them one hell of a show.
A curtain of fog enveloped me as the platform leveled out with the top of the stage, thick enough to obscure my view of Viper and the others, where they had already begun to play in the dark. I waited for my cue, a drum pattern from Slade, and when I heard it, a dizzying array of blue, purple, and pink lights flashed across the stage, and I lifted the mic to sing “Dark Angel.”
Even with my in-ear monitors, I could hear the thunderous roar from the crowd, the energy radiating off them blasting toward me and nearly knocking me off my feet. I held my ground as the fog began to clear, giving me a view of the filled-to-capacity stadium, the bracelets each of them wore blinking in time to the music in the same shades as the lights on stage. From here, I could see every one of them, and as I finished off the first verse, I said, “Atlanta, you’re sexy as fuck tonight,” starting off another round of screams as I sauntered down the staircase. Slade grinned at me as I passed his drum kit, and a few more stairs down, Jagger lifted his chin my way, surrounded on all sides by various keyboards. I headed down to the main stage to stand front and center between Killian and Viper, but when Viper looked over his shoulder, his eyes roamed over every inch of me, and I almost forgot my next lyric.
Damn, how had I forgotten how potent he was on stage? It was one thing when we rehearsed to watch him, but it was unbelievable the way he turned “on” in front of the crowd of seventy thousand. His black leather pants rode low on his hips
, and for the moment, he wore a half-undone crimson shirt, which I had no doubt would be gone a few more songs in—and God help me then.
Viper shot me a wink and then, thankfully, looked back out at the crowd while I launched into the rest of the first verse. With the fervor of the audience riding me, I strode across the stage, letting the song fill me from within so there was no thought, no worry, nothing but me and the music. This was what happened every time I stepped on stage: the anxiety faded almost instantly and I remembered why I loved to perform. It felt like coming home.
When the last chords of the song echoed throughout the stadium, I wiped the sweat from my brow and reached down to shake the outreached hands of fans swarming the stage.
“Jesus, you guys are begging for it tonight, huh?” My words came out husky as I quickly recovered before launching into the next song, and the rumble of approval from the crowd had me grinning as I looked back at my fellow band members. “That sounds pretty needy to me—what do you think, Kill?”
“I say we give ’em what they want,” Killian said. His bass was strapped over his body, and he held the neck of it loosely with one hand. With the other, he tossed a guitar pick into the crowd, and a cluster of fans scrambled after it.
“Hmm. But what do they want?” I turned my attention to Viper, who gripped the mic stand in front of him. He ran his hand up and down the pole slowly, suggestively.
“I think they want something hot…something sexy…something ‘Hard.’” The noise from the crowd became deafening, and I had to tap my right ear to signal to the sound crew to turn up my in-ear monitor so I could hear the guys.
As I launched into the song Viper had written about me during a time when he thought he couldn’t have me, I was amazed at how I could sing the risqué lyrics without so much as a blush now. Now I not only sang the words, I moved my body along with them, my hips rolling and thrusting forward, which only seemed to egg everyone else on. I headed over to Killian, lining up alongside him so our backs pressed together. My head fell back on his shoulder as he played, and I slid my hand down over my chest, my abs, and then farther…
Before my fingers brushed over my covered cock, I dropped my hand and pushed off Killian, then strutted across the stage, a teasing smile on my face. All eyes were on me as I headed in Viper’s direction, and when he noticed me coming, an arrogant smirk crossed his lips. It made me want to kiss it off, but since I wasn’t about to do that right here in front of everyone, I decided I’d play with him a little instead.
Though we’d flirted in rehearsals, it was entirely different being under the lights, amped up on adrenaline, and feeling every sexy word that came out of my mouth. It made me brave, made me want to do things I shouldn’t.
A challenge lit Viper’s dark gaze, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, and that was all it took. As I walked around him, I let my hand roam over his hip and down over the curve of his ass, while whistles pierced the air. Then I moved in close behind, so that my front was flush against his backside. The heat of his body was so enticing that I was tempted to drop the mic so I could grab him with both hands. Instead, I settled for letting one get its fill, my arm rounding his waist, my palm covering his chest as I crooned his filthy words in his ear. Viper turned his face toward mine, the fire and lust swirling in his eyes making my dick throb. God, he was fucking hot. I thought so when I’d watched him perform before I even realized I was having such a physical reaction to him, and it was even truer now. Viper made for a powerful drug, and it wasn’t just his looks—it was the confident, cocky air about him, the way his talented fingers moved across his Telecaster, and it was in the way when his eyes were on you, you felt like the most powerful person in the world. And right now, that powerful person was me.
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.
Not giving a flying fuck who was around or who could see, I wound my arms around Halo’s naked waist and hauled him up against
my body. As his lips parted, I groaned, drove my tongue deep inside, and devoured the mouth that had just seduced a stadium full of strangers.
Halo fisted his hands in my hair as he tried to get even closer, and judging by the hard cock I could feel pressing up against mine, the angel was just as amped up as I was. My guess? He was on a high like nothing he’d ever felt before, and that rush had him all but vibrating in my arms.
A loud wolf whistle somehow made it through my sex-fogged brain and had me tearing my mouth from Halo’s, and when we turned to see the rest of the guys grinning at us like fucking morons, I slung my arm around the angel’s shoulders and guided him off the stage.
“Fucking amazing,” I said by his ear before we reached the others, then I kissed him. “You were fucking amazing. How do you feel?”
Halo turned his face toward mine, those light eyes sparkling as they stared back at me, and then his mouth curved into a grin that told me exactly how he felt, even without his next words.
“I feel like a goddamn king.”
Jagger must’ve caught the end of that, because he reached out and clapped Halo on the shoulder. “So you fucking should. You absolutely killed it out there tonight.”
“Killed it dead,” Slade agreed. “D.E.A.D. Fucking. Dead. That was unreal.”
“Seriously,” Killian said as he looked between the two of us, his eyes gleaming with that same electric charge coursing through the rest of us. He was amped up, ready to take this party out for a night on the town. “I don’t know about you guys, but I feel the need to go and fucking celebrate.”
In other words, Killian wanted to go and find someone to celebrate with by fucking.
I pulled Halo into my side and nuzzled my lips under his ear. “So whaddya say, Angel? You want to come celebrate with me tonight?”