Charlene stands and slow claps. Lily joins her. Soon everyone is clapping. Except Miller—he looks pissed. I can’t say I blame him. If I heard Sunny loudly professing her appreciation the way Violet does, I don’t think I’d be all that impressed. Sunny doesn’t seem to care, though. She’s smiling and clapping along with the rest of the girls.
Violet takes a step back, as if maybe she’s thinking to hide in the bedroom, but she collides with my chest.
“Good work, Alex!” Charlene cheers.
I chuckle into Violet’s hair when she elbows me in the ribs. “You’ve could’ve told me I was being too loud.”
I move her hair out of the way and kiss her cheek. “It seemed like a reasonable volume to me.”
She looks over her shoulder and gives me what’s supposed to be her angry face, but she’s embarrassed, and I’m feeling good about my performance, so she looks cute instead. She pokes me in the nipple. “Jerk. I’m going to have silent sex for the rest of the weekend.”
“Good luck with that.”
This time she pinches me. I fold her in my arms and tuck her head under my chin. “I love you, baby. Never change. Especially not your sex volume.”
She mumbles what’s probably an insult, but it’s muffled by my shirt.
“It’s not like we haven’t heard you come before,” Lance says.
I’m about to thank him for the reminder by flipping him off, but Randy cuts in. “I hadn’t, but, uh, yeah, Waters. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”
“Maybe you two should compare notes,” Lily suggests with a sly grin.
He strokes his beard and narrows his eyes at Lily. “I’m not giving you what you need, luscious?”
Violet wriggles out of my hold. “Pretty sure Horny Nut Sac doesn’t need any help in the orgasm-doling department based on the voodoo magic in my laundry room.”
“Definitely not!” Charlene agrees. “But feel free to share your best techniques with Darren. He’s always looking for new ways to make me scream.”
Darren doesn’t say anything, just smirks and lets out one of his dark little laughs.
Sunny raises her hand. “I have quiet orgasms. Lots of them.”
“Okay.” Miller slaps the pool table. “We should hit the casino.”
We all put on shoes and head for the door. Violet seems relieved, and I honestly have no interest in hearing about Sunny’s orgasms, particularly since they’ve resulted in her being pregnant. We find a buffet, because sex makes us all hungry, and then we hit the streets. Sunny turned twenty-one last month, so she’s legal to get into all the places; not that it matters since she can’t drink in her condition.
“Wow, this is like Niagara Falls on steroids!” she says, chin tilted up as she takes in the tall buildings and excessive people.
“It’s wild here,” Violet says as we pass girls dressed in very little, dancing in the middle of the street. People hand us cards with boobs on them, but the nipples are covered with black or red dots. Violet hands a bunch to Lance. “There’s a number on there. Maybe she wants to go on a date with you.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have to pay to get a date, Vi. Besides, some chick in the casino gave me her keycard for later.”
“She gave you her keycard?”
“Yeah. Happens all the time.”
He’s not lying. Girls are constantly looking to hook up with him. While Ballistic had a reputation for living up to his last name, Lance has a different kind of rep with the bunnies.
He doesn’t seem to have any issue with multiple partners, according to the rumors anyway. But who the hell knows what’s true and what isn’t. That shit about the Darcys is proof that not everything you hear is true—just like the rumor about me and the hat trick. Lance is proving to be one of the good guys, maybe a little hotheaded on the ice—and off it—but then so am I.
“But she doesn’t even know you. You could be a mass murderer. You could be like that guy from American Psycho who throws a chainsaw down a stairwell after he has a threesome.” Violet shudders and turns to Charlene. “I should never have watched that movie.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad? I didn’t sleep for three weeks.”
Violet’s exaggerating, but she did have a few rough nights.
Lance winks at Violet. “Don’t worry, I’m not a mass murderer.”
“But how does she know that?”
“I’m a public figure in the hockey world. Everyone knows my business in the bedroom, or at least they think they do.”
Violet links her arm with mine. “Do girls give you their keycards?”
I tuck her into my side. “Not anymore.”
“But they used to?”
“Not all that often.”
“What constitutes often? And what the hell is wrong with these women? That seems dangerous.”
“You didn’t know Alex, and you went back to his room the first night you met him,” Charlene points out.