by Angel Payne
That we’re here. Alive. Together. And ready to take on the future we’ve decided to face as one…
No matter how terrifying that vista looks.
Thoughts for another moment. Not this one. In this moment, I finish the ministrations to his skin before murmuring, “Right here, mister. By your side. And I’m never ever leaving.”
And I’ll never get tired of saying it, either.
Damn good thing, since I now know how much he needs to hear it. Probably as intensely as I need to hear it. “Are you still here?”
The pressure of his lips in my hair, then snuggling down to my neck, is better than the warmth of the early summer wind filtering in from the ridge. “Always, Velvet. And forever.”
I let out a long sigh against the bulging goodness of his bare bicep. He’s wearing only his black track pants tonight, and it’s a delicious change. He’s been staying covered up over the last week. First he used the blustery Paris weather as an excuse, and then after we returned, he’s kept up his Reece Richards version of swaddling, even when we’ve been intimate in just about every position possible.
I’ve given him what he needs in full because it’s been what I need too—if the shrinks want to tag us as substituting one of the grief stages with sex, let them—but have really missed getting to touch all of him at the same time. The gleaming ropes of his arms. The hewn planes of his chest. And best of all, getting up close and personal with the steady beat of his heart.
But this isn’t me complaining. Not by a long shot. Because while my hero has kept his armor on physically, he’s been unspeakably brave about keeping me with him emotionally, right here at the center of his heart. Letting me see every moment of the horror and the heartache, the burden and the confusion, the love and the loss of every second, minute, and hour of the last seven days. The magnitude of not just mourning his friend and his brother but his father too. Not the monster we all discovered at the end. The man Reece idolized before that. The ideal he aspired to.
The hero he’s had to become for himself now.
The husband he already is…in my heart.
Especially after today.
Yes, I know that in so many ways, we’re just at the beginning of this journey—but a milestone is a milestone, and this moment can be about celebrating that. About acknowledging where we were when we got up this morning compared to the difference of where we are now…
Using that silent segue, I tuck my head against his arm with the same tentative softness of my new prompt. “So…you ready to do this?”
His deep groan is followed by the distinct conk of his skull against the headboard. “Can’t I distract you with something involving the new hot tub and my hotter cock?”
Somehow, I manage to rein my reaction back to a guttural chuff. “Humor isn’t going to earn you a hall pass, Mr. Richards.”
A chest-deep growl vibrates into my hair. “There’s nothing humorous about what I want to do to you with my cock, Miss Crist.”
With an insistent huff, I scoop up the TV remote and tap the green button, and the monitor in the cabinet flares to life. “You need to watch this, baby. To know you did it. And to know we’re all behind you too.”
Another gruff grumble from the depths of the torso behind me—though now the sound sends primal pulses right through my knit tank top, turning into a million enticing tremors through my body. My nipples pebble and punch at the stretchy fabric, and I nearly brain myself for putting him off about the hot tub. But there’s one thing about being here to help the man cope with his grief, and there’s another about avoiding the feelings altogether with a hedonistic romp in the pool…
Thank God for the TV, jerking my thoughts out of that conceptual gutter. I refocus on the screen—most specifically on the image that fills a corner of the national news feed.
An image of him.
His face clean-shaven and somber. His shoulders tight beneath a custom black Brioni suit. His posture noble but tense and then stiffening even more as the anchorman gives an introduction to the piece.
“Reece Richards, also known to the world as superhero Bolt, spoke out publicly today for the first time since the horrific events of last week at the family’s newest luxury hotel, the Virage Paris. Many have speculated that an elevator in the as-yet-unopened building was to blame for the tragedy, resulting in the deaths of a security staffer as well as Tyce Richards and the family’s patriarch, Lawson Richards—but today, the most notorious member of the family was also the bearer of their most shocking news to date. We now bring you a recap from the press conference today, which was held at the Hotel Brocade in Los Angeles, California.”
As the news anchor speaks, her key headline words are summarized in the text crawl beneath the feed:
Richards Family in upheaval: Lawson Richards, Tyce Richards dead
Reece Richards reveals father’s ties to Scorpio crime cartel
The truth behind Bolt: Reece Richards now on the offensive
The headlines, along with the grief so evident in Reece’s eyes on the feed, succeed in fully sobering me. The man of my heart and soul is striking and strong as he raises the microphone on the podium by another inch. Trixie, Chase, and I are behind him, putting his grief—and his new determination—into courageous words for the entire world. These moments are why I’m coercing him to watch right now. He needs to see this too. To believe he did this. To see the fortitude and leadership with which he did it. To know he’s more than what Lawson Richards ever gave him full credit for.
“The incident in question occurred last Friday night, a week ago today. It involved my father, Lawson Richards, luring my two brothers and me to what was supposed to be a celebratory dinner with the opening management team for the Virage.”
The onscreen Reece pauses, pulls in a deep breath, and looks as magnificent as a king, suit or not. Here on the bed, I pull his arms even tighter around me, hoping like hell he feels the pride and love that swell through me. And we haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet.
Yeah.
Shit.
The hard part.
“Shortly after we all arrived at the event, nearly every attendee at the party drank some spiked drinks, making it easier for our father to put a greater plan in motion—to hand over my two brothers and me to a criminal organization called the Consortium.”
The onscreen Reece exhales and then inhales again, his breaths coming in sharp spurts. Clearly, he’s debating whether to go on. Tears blur my eyes as he pulls his shit together—and does.
“None of you have heard of this group before because they’ve remained top secret, protected by the illegal money and corruption of the Scorpio crime cartel. But they do exist. I swear this to you. I know this because they’re the scientists who captured me, tortured me, and turned me into the mutant you all now know as Bolt. They did much of the same to my brother Tyce as well—and last Saturday night, to save me from being recaptured by these lunatics, he sacrificed himself so that my brother Chase and I could escape from the trap our father had cleverly laid out for us. During the incident, my father was also killed, along with another man—a brave member of the tactical team who also tried to stop him. The operative’s name will not be released upon request by his family and friends.”
I take a moment to let my heart pang once more for Mitch and Tyce—and also for Kane and Angelique, working through their grief in their different ways. Kane’s off the grid somewhere in Tibet, the place on earth Mitch loved more than any other. And Angelique, ignoring Reece’s vehement argument, has dived right back undercover with the Consortium, promising us a complete blow-by-blow of the bastards’ reaction when Reece outs them to the world.
My musing for them both is well-timed, since the footage of the press conference now includes a shot of the whole room exploding in a deafening, buzzing, outraged, excited, scandalized, terrified din. I watch the onscreen Emma give in to a widening stare, remembering how I’d started wondering who’d dropped a hive of confused bees in the room.<
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I duck my flushing face back into Reece’s bicep. “Holy crap,” I mumble. “What a dork.”
Reece leans over, brushing affectionate lips over mine. “My adorable dork.”
Onscreen Reece holds up his hands, taming the bees again. “Let me be clear about this, everyone,” Reece proclaims. “Because this is the most important reason why we’ve called you all here today. Number one, the Richards Family Companies and all their diversified brands, are stronger today than they ever have been. My brother Chase and I are ready to guide this massive ship, and its valuable crew members, into a lot of success for a long time to come.”
On the bed, I melt a little as my real-life bee tamer caresses the curve of my ear with his warm, adoring mouth and then skims his softly glowing fingertips along the side of my ribcage. My body starts humming at a higher frequency for him, though the arousal is a slow, blissful burn instead of our usual rocket launch of desire. And right now, in this lingering twilight that’s just a tiny start of our healing, that’s completely right. And absolutely perfect.
“Number two,” states TV Reece now. “We’re not only going to keep succeeding, but we’re going to do it right—because we are dedicated to fighting every corner of every wrong we see in this world. That begins here, and that begins today—with the promise we are openly, publicly making to find and shut down every shred of the Consortium and their barbaric scientific practices.”
As TV Reece pauses to let the press cheer and snap and get lots of juicy B-roll, my personal Reece gently kisses his way to the place where my neck meets my collarbone while spreading his magic touch across my stomach. The heat of his fingers and the softness of my tank are like the first breeze of a summer storm: heated but mellow, dusky but melancholy. Quickly, I fall into a fugue state between reality and fantasy…into the ripple that’s a little bit of both, possible only with him.
Somehow, I’m still able to rasp, “Errrmmm…Mr. Richards?”
“Yes, Miss Crist?”
“You’re distracting me.”
“And that’s a bad thing why?”
“Because we’re getting to the best part.”
“Hmmm.” He turns his head, following my gaze back up to the monitor. “You’re right.”
TV Reece scales back on his glower for the faintest glimmer of a smile, although the look is edged by the ferocity only he could bring to a basic hotel ballroom in front of a horde of rabid reporters. “I’m done with living in the shadows,” he declares, forming his hands into fists on either side of the microphone. “And I’m done with living in shame about who and what I am. I can’t promise you all that I’m going to get it right all the time—but I promise you I’m going to try, and with the help of this woman”—he uncoils one hand to reach back for me, yanking me up to the podium with him—“who has graciously and generously agreed to be my wife, we’re going to take down the Consortium and make this world a better place, damn it.”
On the screen, the reporters break out into stadium-level applause.
In our bed, I turn so I can curl up against the man of my dreams. Listening to the throbs of the heart he’s gifted to me in return—despite knowing we’re likely headed for the hardest part of our journey together.
But we’re doing it together.
Rejoicing in our love. Blinded by our future. Ready for our challenges. Prepared for our fight.
Ignited by our destiny.
Together.
Always together.
And always forever.
“You’re right,” I whisper into the center of his chest. “This really is the best part.”
Continue the Bolt Saga with
Available November 27, 2018
* * *
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Also by Angel Payne
The Bolt Saga:
Bolt
Ignite
Pulse
Fuse (November 27, 2018)
Surge
Light
* * *
Secrets of Stone Series:
(with Victoria Blue)
No Prince Charming
No More Masquerade
No Perfect Princess
No Magic Moment
No Lucky Number
No Simple Sacrifice
No Broken Bond
No White Knight (October 16, 2018)
* * *
Honor Bound:
Saved
Cuffed
Seduced
Wild
Wet
Hot
Masked
Mastered
Conquered (Coming Soon)
Ruled (Coming Soon)
* * *
Cimarron Series:
Into His Dark
Into His Command
Into Her Fantasies
* * *
Temptation Court:
Naughty Little Gift
Pretty Perfect Toy
Bold Beautiful Love
* * *
For a full list of Angel’s other titles,
visit her at
AngelPayne.com
Acknowledgments
The Bolt Saga journey would not be this exciting or amazing without the diligence and dedication of so many amazing people.
As always: thank you to the magnificent team at Waterhouse Press, especially my beyond-talented editing team. Scott Saunders and Jeanne De Vita, none of this would be the jewel that it is without you both helping me to polish it to an amazing shine! I am beyond grateful! And David, Jon, and Meredith: you three have believed so strongly in this crazy world from the start, earning you such deep and heartfelt thanks from the bottom of my heart. And absolutely everyone else on this epic team: Robyn, Yvonne, Haley, Jennifer, Amber, Jesse, and Kurt—you are the ultimate superhero squad! Thank you!
Special gratitude and thanks to Martha Frantz for continuing to keep me sane on so many levels.
My “Passionate Payne” gratitude to all the gods and goddesses in the Payne Passion Nation across the social media platforms. You are all so incredible and bring such joy and light into my life on a daily basis!
Meredith Wild and Victoria Blue: thank you for talking me down off all the ledges, all the time, and for the writing sprints to keep me chugging along and inspired!
A special thank you to all of the bloggers and reviewers, in the romance and superhero fandoms, for reading and loving and chatting up the books all the time! You guys and gals are so awesome and generous, and I appreciate you so much.
About Angel Payne
USA Today bestselling romance author Angel Payne loves to focus on high-heat romance starring memorable alpha men and the women who love them. She has numerous book series to her credit, including the popular Honor Bound series, the Secrets of Stone series (with Victoria Blue), the Cimarron series, the Temptation Court series, the Suited for Sin series, and the Lords of Sin historicals, as well as several standalone titles.
Angel is a native Southern Californian, leading to her love of being in the outdoors, where she often reads and writes. She still lives in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and beautiful daughter, to whom she is a proud cosplay/culture con mom. Her passions also include whisky tasting, shoe shopping, and travel.
For more information, please follow Angel Payne at:
AngelPayne.com