Nicoletta (Royal Harlots MC/Royal Bastards MC Crossover Duet #2)

Chapter 1

NICOLETTA

DAD flashes on the screen. I shake my head, and Bolt taps the screen.

“Answer it.”

I swallow hard, then swipe the call. “Hello?”

“What you did wasn’t smart, Nicoletta,” my father’s smooth baritone filters through the phone.

“Put it on speaker,” Bolt mouths.

“I had no choice.” I hit the speaker button.

“I don’t know what you think, but I was just trying to keep you safe.”

“I’m fine.”

“You can’t believe I would ever hurt you.” His voice is calm and concerned, almost too calm. “Can you?”

“I just need some time to think.”

“Then come back to L.A. I’ve had the charges dropped, and you can come home without any repercussions. Swim, practice up on your tennis, and relax. There’s absolutely nothing for you to be afraid of.”

“While you hold me prisoner?”

“Nicoletta, how can you say that?”

“I saw the guards that night at both doors.”

“For your protection. You have no idea the kind of people are out there who want to hurt our family. Especially after the news of your arrest. They were to keep the reporters and other undesirables out, not keep you in.”

My brain rewinds to the night I left. I would love to believe my father, but those men were very clear about me staying put in the mansion.

“I’m fine where I am.”

“Hiding out with criminals?”

My heart pounds double-time. “I’m not hiding with—”

“Just remember,” his voice drops an octave, “you would rather have me as an ally than an enemy.”

The call disconnects, and my stomach roils. I suck in a few deep breaths to ward off the sudden nausea of knowing my father just threatened me.

“Still got your doubts?” Bolt asks.

“I don’t know what to think.” I slump against the door. “I’m a prisoner here too.”

“Not exactly a prisoner. Look at it more like we’re your protection, not your jailor.”

“We’re your protectors, or you’re my protector?”

“All of the Bastards, including me.”

It’s not lost on me Bolt has said almost the same thing as my father, but for some crazy reason, I believe Bolt over my own father. I’m too exhausted to figure it out.

I’m also too worn out to resist when Bolt cages me in against the door, his large palms on both sides of my head. His body is flush against me, his lips only inches from mine.

I slowly raise my head. “You got something about having sex against walls and doors?”

“I got something about fucking you. Anywhere, anytime. Don’t ask me to explain it, ‘cause I can’t. All I can tell you is that my cock is rock-hard every time I’m near you.”

How do I reply to that?

“Even before, when I’m sitting in chapel surrounded by my brothers. When I’m supposed to be listening to every word my prez says, I’m thinking about sinking into that hot, slick snatch of yours.”

“In a weird way, I think you just gave me a compliment.”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.” He cups my jaw with his broad palm, then angles his mouth to mine. Our tongues find each other, and something breaks inside me.

All the stress, all the fear goes into this kiss, and I know there’s no turning back. Bolt lays his body flush to mine, and I let him, loving the warmth of his body. The primal need he ignites in me.

He reaches down and wraps one arm around my waist, hoisting me up. My legs automatically wrap around his hips.

He breaks away from my lips and searches my eyes, then burrows his face into my neck. “Whatever we got here is fuckin’ sick,” he whispers into my hair.

I’m not sure if he means the overall situation of my father targeting me in a shoot-out, or the crazy out-of-control attraction we have for each other.

When our eyes meet, he looks as confused by his comment as me.

In the next second, he spins us around, stalks down the hallway, kicks open the bedroom door and stumbles into the room.

He twists and takes me down with him. When we hit the mattress, he flips me onto my back, then hovers over me.

His eyes are still searching for some reason why, in any universe, someone like me and someone like him would be together.

“Shit if I understand it.” He mirrors my thoughts. “Already had a taste of you, and usually that’s enough for me.” He eases onto his knees, still appraising me. Drinking me in with his gaze. “One and done—except now, except you.”

He digs his fingers into the waist of my yoga pants and peels them down, then smooths his palms up my calves, anchoring his hands under my knees, pulling me closer.

A grin splits his hard face as he flips off my sneakers. “Remember the first time you had on them shoes with the red-painted soles?”

“Christian Louboutins.”

“I knew then you were different.”

I’m about to question his comment when he shifts my legs over his shoulders and dives in face first. My back arches off the mattress as his talented tongue laps at my center.

I dig my fingers into his hair, moving with his mouth until my legs shake and my skin prickles in anticipation.

Bolt makes it sinful and delicious at the same time.

When he sucks my clit, little sparks of light explode behind my eyes. Every pulse in my body concentrates on this act. He doesn’t stop until I ride out every spasm, and I realize I never knew pleasure like this. He lifts his head and throws me a sexy grin, telling me he enjoyed it as much as me.

I smile full out, and he laughs. “I’m guessing that was as good for you as it was for me?”

“It was excellent for me, but how was it good for you?” Brad always complained about going down on me.

“Fuck, I love eating out.” He smacks his lips.

I laugh. “Never heard it phrased quite like that.”

“Let me guess, Bradley didn’t like goin’ downtown.”

I laugh again at the way he says Brad’s name. “You guessed it.” Then I sober. “I used to think there was something wrong with me down there.”

“Fuck, he must’ve been a real asshole, ‘cause, babe, there ain’t nothing wrong with you.” He cups me with his palm. “Matter of fact, everything is just about perfect down there.”

His words fill me up, and when I reach for him, he holds up his hand. Then he shrugs out of his cut, folds it and lays it on the end of the bed, then strips his t-shirt up and over his head.

I suck in a breath. I doubt I’d ever tire of the hard, sculpted sight of this man’s chest. The way his pecs rise and fall with every breath. The way his biceps flex with the slightest movement. And the ink only adds to the overall show of strength and pure male.

I reach for him again, and this time, he lets me undo the thick leather of his belt and the tab of his jeans. Before I grasp the zipper, I look up at him and smile.

He grins wide. “You like fuckin’ with me, huh?”

“Are you using that word as an adjective or a verb?”

“I’m using it as in you better start fuckin’ me and not be fuckin’ with me.”

“I love your logic, and your use of the word fuck. Very inventive.”

“It’s my favorite word. So many uses.” He pushes my palm against his hard, rigid cock. “But right now, I want you to quit being fuckin’ annoying, so we can get to fuckin’.” He winks at me. “See what I did there?”

“Very inventive using them both an adverb and a verb.”

I grasp the zipper and slowly ease it down. When I reach in and wrap my hand around his thick girth, he hisses out a breath. He nods as his eyes slide shut. I push his back to the mattress and lick my lips. He looks bigger than I remember, if that could be possible.

When I lower my head and take him in, he pulses against my tongue, and I let him slide further down my throat.

He digs his fingers into my hair with a rough, feral grunt.

I fist him, sucking him like the sweetest candy.

The silent room fills with his groans and my lips smacking against his swollen flesh.

“Harder, babe, suck me harder,” he demands.

I increase the pressure pulling at him, milking him, wanting him to feel every swipe of my tongue, every squeeze of my lips. I move faster, and when his hips lift, I know he’s close.

“Fuck yeah, babe, swallow me whole.” Bolt’s body stiffens, his thighs flex, and his warmth fills my mouth. I keep at him, taking all of him, then licking him clean before resting my head on his thigh.

“Shiiit,” Bolt mumbles. “That was fuckin’ amazing. The club girls could take lessons from you.”

“I’m thinking you mean that as a compliment.” I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this man’s raw honesty.

“Fuck yeah, it’s a compliment. They do too much biting, not enough sucking. I don’t get it ‘cause some of those chicks are sucking off a few guys a night, and they still can’t get it right.”

I chuckle. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

“Whatever. I don’t give a fuck, ‘cause you sucked me dry.”

He reaches down, and a second later, I’m draped over him with his lips clamped to mine. “Love the taste of me on your lips.”

He rolls me under him, and again I’m floored by his overall strength and how he effortlessly moves me around. Both amazing and a bit daunting.

He braces his hands on the mattress and smiles down at me. “I ain’t nowhere near done with you yet.” Then he leans back. “Up on your hands and knees.”

He reaches for the nightstand, yanks open the drawer, and rummages around until he pulls out a string of condoms.

I cover his hand with mine. “Stop.”