Page 18 of Nicoletta
“You know what?” Marisol flips up her palms. “Stop, leave the poor girl alone.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to do,” Martina lays out the clothes over her arms across the couch.
“Twice,” I mumble.
All three women turn to face me. “What?”
“Bolt and me. We’ve actually done it twice today. Once this morning when we were still in bed, then again at the gym.”
Maxie sinks to the couch. “Okay, bring out the popcorn, then I wanna hear every gory detail.”
Martina and Marisol join Maxie on the couch, and they all stare up at me.
“It was when we were leaving the gym earlier. You know that alcove between the women’s and the men’s locker rooms?”
“No shit!” Maxie squeals.
“Amazing,” Martina marvels.
“Yeah, that is a good spot,” Marisol agrees.
Maxie and Martina turn to Marisol. “You too?”
Marisol smiles and nods.
“Wow,” Maxie shakes her head, “the two classiest chicks here are getting down and dirty right out in the open.
“Bolt kinda has a thing about doing it where people might see, and apparently so do I.”
“Unbelievable.” Martina pushes off the couch. “Well, that settles it. Marisol said we had to hold back on your outfit, but girl, we are now going full-out slut.” Martina winks at me. “And, of course, I mean that in a no-judgment way to all of us sluts who aren’t afraid to slut it up.”
After bickering back and forth about the right dress, makeup and hair, then telling Bolt not to dare come back to his own apartment, we are finally ready two hours later.
I stand in front of the only full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and examine the transformation. It’s amazing what they’ve done. I don’t think anyone from my old life in L.A. would recognize me—and I love it.
“If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t believe it,” Marisol marvels.
“You have a body made for clothes.” Martina waves her hand over me. “Your boobs are small enough for the plunging halter and your legs are long enough for the short leather skirt and low-heeled combat boots—but those ripped fishnets really seal the deal.”
Since the first night I went to that underground bar, I’vewanted to try out the fishnets, and, of course, these women were happy to oblige.
“Perfection.” Maxie gives me a chef’s kiss, and we all laugh.
The three of them look equally amazing, but I’m not surprised with their toned muscular shapes.
“When Bolt sees you,” Maxie adds, “he is gonna come in his jeans.”
Martina and Marisol roll their eyes, but fact, I can’t wait to see Bolt’s reaction since most of what I packed before I escaped was leggings and exercise clothing. Comfortable and functional for an escapee, but not the sexiest.
Without warning the men, the four of us leave the apartment, then enter the main bar, which is already crowded. Bolt said they always get a big crowd before the fights because, once the fights start, Smoke closes The Tropics down so there’s no competition.
I pick Bolt out at the end of the bar, but I honestly don’t think he realizes it’s me until I get about six feet in front of him.
“Fuck,” he mumbles as I walk into his arms, giving him a deep kiss.
“You like?” I ask.
“Hell yeah. We may not make it to the fight.” He leans into my ear. “Shit, you’re gonna have me coming in my jeans.
