He wears a small, cocky grin. "So you want to marry me to stake a claim on my dick?"
"Super MC deserves a wedding all his own. We'll have a private Super MC and beaver ceremony." I've thought about this a lot. I've even researched the costumes. Not that Alex needs to know this. A beaver only gets promised to her Super MC once in a lifetime.
"That sounds like fun." His grin widens.
"It will be if my beaver has anything to do with planning it."
Building him up is the best thing I can do for both of us. Also, it's true. Alex is a lot of things-confident in the bedroom, amazing on the ice-but he also needs a lot of positive reinforcement. I used to think his asking if I was enjoying myself when we had sex was about courtesy.
Partly it is. He likes to know he's making me feel good. It's also because he wants affirmation that he's getting me off. He loves that I chant my love of his cock when I come. It's the biggest ego stroke in the world for him. I've realized he's like that with everything. The more praise he gets, the better he feels about himself.
That's not to say he's egotistical. He thrives on reinforcement. And I'm not above giving it to him to make things easier for everyone. My man can be a delicate flower. It's a sexy contradiction to the badass hockey player I get to watch on the ice.
Except not for the rest of this season, hence the need to fill the void. And what better way to fill it than with a wedding?
I have lots of thoughts on weddings. Mainly, I feel like they're an archaic, patriarchal method of staking a claim on a beaver. Which might have been necessary in the dark ages, but isn't so much now.
Beyond that, I'm kind of excited to dress up like a princess for an afternoon, as long as I can wear flip flops under the dress, because heels suck.
"So you're sure about this summer?"
"Positive."
"I can check out venues this week," he offers.
"That'd be awesome." Score one for Violet. Just like I planned, I won't have to do all the legwork, and Alex will have something to occupy his time while he's recovering.
However, I'm not a wedding savant. I have absolutely no idea how much time and effort goes into planning one, or how challenging it's going to be to rein in Daisy and my mom once we tell them it's happening.
I also have no idea how gung ho Alex is going to be about the wedding. And I should. Because I know how he is about everything else in his life.
He's two-hundred percent about being the best hockey player.
He's two-thousand percent about being the best orgasm distributor.
He's two-million percent about being the best fiancé.
So of course he's going to up his game when planning a wedding. I should know this, but all I can think about is how I'm making my life easier while I stroke his ego.
I really should know better by now.
15
Pussies Take the
Easy Way Out
VIOLET
My phone buzzes for the eighty-millionth time. It's a group message that includes my mom and Daisy. This whole feed started this morning. At six a.m. On a Saturday. It's been endless since Daisy left three weeks ago, and it only seems to be picking up momentum.
"You should turn that off," Charlene says. "The whole point of this afternoon is to relax, and your phone buzzing constantly is the opposite of relaxing."
"I'm sure it's just some pictures." I shove a biscotti into my mouth so I'm unable to answer questions.
I follow it up with a sip of my lactose-free latte. My dairy cravings have gone through the roof. It's directly related to Daisy and my mom's incessant texting.
Daisy and Robbie are coming for a visit next weekend. I'm not sure why since I talk to her every single day.
About the wedding.
The motherpucking wedding.
And of course Sunny's pregnancy figures in heavily. Weddings and babies are Daisy Waters' crack fix. And my mom's. I had no idea she was such a baby freak until Sunny got herself impregnated with Buck's yeti spawn.
Despite the incessant texts and emails, I'm not having regrets about agreeing to the wedding this summer. Not real regrets. Not the kind where I'm all, shit, let's hypothesize what it will be like if someone gets murdered before this is over and I have to have a prison relationship with Alex where they put me in a facility that doesn't allow for conjugal visits. I'll have to smuggle cucumbers in my vagina so I can get myself off.
Nope. I'm not worried about murder.
It's not like that at all. Mostly. Sort of.
Cucumbers must be in high demand in women's prisons.
I give in when my phone registers eleven new messages and check them.
There are ten pictures, all potential locations for our wedding. Which Alex has been working on finding since I gave him the all clear to start planning.
"I don't get why Daisy can't find a venue that houses less than two hundred people. Actually I don't get why she's finding venues at all. I need this thing to be small."
"That's because my mom thinks two hundred people is small," Sunny says. She turns the nail polish over and reads the fine print on the back. "Should I be worried about the chemicals in this? Are the oils they use here natural?" She pats her tummy-her still mostly flat tummy. She's not really showing yet. She looks mostly like she ate a large meal and hasn't quite digested it.
"I researched everything before we scheduled the appointments," Lily reassures her. She gives her best friend's mini-bump a rub. "Everything is baby-safe."
The four of us have been spending a lot of time together. While Alex is busy planning our wedding-with the unneeded interference of our mothers (I don't know why they don't just text him)-I'm helping Lily plan a baby shower for Sunny. Baby stuff is way more fun than I expected; it's all cute and tiny.
"Yeah, well, my idea of small is more around the forty-people mark. We could have it in the backyard and be done with it."
"You had two hundred people at the engagement party in the backyard," Lily points out.
"I'm surprised you remember that since you spent half the night locked in a spare bedroom getting boned by Horny Nut Sac."
"You sound jealous, Vi." Lily has adopted Randy's snarky tone and his smirky smirk. It's almost as cute as it is annoying.
Normally I wouldn't be jealous, but Alex's physical state has continued to put a damper on the beaver lovin'. He's much better than he was when he first came home from the hospital, and the Super MC hugs are increasing in frequency, but he's not at his pre-accident level of stamina. It's driving him insane. My legs look great, though, so that's a plus.
Still, Lily's sex life is something to be envious of. If anyone should be pregnant in this room, it's her. I think she gets more dick than any of us. Possibly combined. Those two are fuck-crazy.
Instead of owning my jealousy, I return the snark. "Jealous of your sex life? Hardly. My sex life makes your sex life look like a cheap prostitute."
"A cheap prostitute?" Lily scoffs. "If anything, my sex life is the most well-paid prostitute out there."
The lady working on my toenails coughs.
Charlene gives Lily a high five and laughs. "Uh, from all the bitching you've been doing lately, I'm gonna call beaver bullshit on you."
"I'm getting monster cock injections," I snap.
"Not enough, based on how cranky you are and how many times you've watched the final scene of Magic Mike XXL."
I shoot Charlene a glare. "He's a great dancer."
"Right. And that's why you're watching that scene all the time and then disappearing to the bathroom."
"That's a total lie! I only did that once." I'm much too loud.
Thankfully, it's only the four of us and the ladies who work in the spa, plus some ancient, overly plastic-surgeoned lady getting a pedicure on her terrifying feet. But I assume she's too old to eavesdrop, or understand the content of our conversation.
"I know of at least three occasions when you've referenced that movie and marble rolling," Charlene counters.
Damn it and damn her for throwing me under the bus.
"I don't think about anyone but Miller when we're having sex," Sunny says.
"Randy makes it impossible to focus on anything but him. That man's tongue. God." Lily sort of sigh-moans.
"I'm fully engaged in boning with Alex, but there's less of it lately than I'm used to, and unlike Lily White Balls over here, Alex and I don't send each other masturbation videos every five minutes."
Lily gasps, and she pokes Sunny in the arm. "That's supposed to be a secret!"
I come to Sunny's immediate defense. She isn't the reason I know about the amateur porn. "She didn't tell me. Miller let it slip. Apparently Randy inadvertently sent him one of the videos he meant to send to you."