Soleil stepped up to the line with confidence. Her body posture was different than it had been. She’d been a little hesitant before each throw, but not this time. The darts cooperated. Straight. True. Three triple twenties, dead center. The room went silent.
Alena took her spot. “I can see that first game was more of a practice round for you.”
“I haven’t played in a long while,” Soleil reiterated. She nabbed another slice of pizza and washed a bite down with her whiskey.
Alena scored two triple twenties and one triple six. She stepped back to allow Soleil to take her place. Soleil studied the board while she finished her pizza and then she blew on the end of her dart. The room went quiet as she stepped up.
She hit two triple seventeens and a triple twenty.
Alena grinned. “Finally. A worthy opponent. That’s the way it’s done, boys.”
In spite of the fact that every member of Torpedo Ink left in Vegas was in the room, there wasn’t a sound. No one drank. No one ate pizza. They were mesmerized by the two women throwing darts. Alena normally carried her own darts with her, but they were working, and she hadn’t brought them. If Soleil had her own set of darts, she wasn’t using them. Both women were playing with the bar’s darts.
Ice had watched Alena wipe up the floor everywhere she played. He knew she could give the champions a run for their money. Soleil clearly was as good as or better than his sister. She was fast, effortless and confident. He found himself a little in awe of the two women. Alena was used to winning, but she was clearly pleased with Soleil’s abilities, and when she lost by one dart, she immediately beamed at his woman.
“That was the best game I think I’ve ever played against someone,” she conceded and scooped up the last piece of pepperoni pizza. “You earned your money.”
Soleil flashed a smile that matched Alena’s. “I haven’t played in a while either and certainly not with anyone who knows how to play.”
“You as good at pool?” Alena asked.
Ice smirked as he collected his money. Savage didn’t smirk, but he pocketed the cash as did Storm and Absinthe.
“Teach you not to bet against my woman,” Ice said.
“Who knew?” Master said. “She looks like she’s never been in a bar in her life.”
“Guess you didn’t notice she was drinking whiskey,” Savage said.
“I was too busy looking at her . . . er . . .” He hesitated when Ice glared at him.
“Shoes,” he settled on.
The others erupted into laughter.
“Is something wrong with my shoes?” Soleil asked, looking down at the little booties on her feet and then back up at Ice. Her eyes were wide, lashes long and dark and tipped up at the ends. She looked back down to her feet again, frowning a little.
The booties came to just above her ankles, making her look even more delicate and girl-next-door than Ice could almost stand. He was a little in love with her shoes whether Master had actually been looking at them or not. And then she had those eyes. He could stare into them all night long.
Another roar of laughter went up at Soleil’s question. Ice wrapped his arm around her waist. “Pay no attention to them, princess, they’re not quite out of the caves yet.”
“I suppose you are,” Master challenged.
Ice wasn’t going to look at the front of his woman and the way the bodice of her little sundress hugged her tits. He would join his brethren in the cave and right now, he was doing his best to gain his woman’s trust.
“Seriously, Soleil, don’t even look at them. They don’t know any better. Do you need another drink?” He glanced at Maestro, indicating he wanted her glass replaced the moment she was finished with her whiskey. He thought a few more drinks would help his cause.
Soleil laughed again, the sound brushing against his skin as if her fingers were touching him, or maybe a thousand tongues tasting him. Champagne bubbles bursting over him. Whatever the analogy, it didn’t matter. His reaction was physical. His body worked. All on its own. Without his command. It felt like fucking paradise, and she’d done that with just her laugh.
Just like that all laughter died and the room went electric. Ice turned toward the door to watch the newcomer sauntering through. He was average height but walked like he could handle himself—like he owned the bar. There was no one behind him, no one to back him up. He was absolutely confident, and it showed. He wore his colors like his own skin.FOUR“Get behind me and stay there,” Ice ordered Soleil in a voice that brooked no argument. He swept her behind him before she could move on her own to obey. He was grateful she didn’t protest, but she did lean out to peek around him.