The Wrong Idea, page 11
I looked down at the kilt covering Odin’s muscular thighs—and a boner, I imagined. Suddenly, there was nothing more I wanted in the world than to be over his lap…nothing more except maybe for him to command it again.
“Now, Ice.”
I stretched carefully over Odin’s lap, letting my head hang over the side of the crate, arms and chin resting unceremoniously against the rough pine. I could feel the wood of it on the tops of my breasts, too, just where they hung over the other side of his thigh. I panted, feeling 98% out-of-this-world horny and 2% embarrassed for being so hugely turned on by all this.
I felt masculine hands run up the back of my thigh, pushing up my kilt, baring my ass.
My skin tingled.
My stomach jumped at the sound of a door. Footsteps.
“Thor, show her the box.”
Thor, not the shopkeeper. Well, that was good!
Thor’s big black boots and kilt appeared in front of me. He kneeled and touched my hair. “Sorry, goddess.” He opened the box. A gleaming wooden paddle was nestled into a velvet bed inside.
“Does that look suitable for your crime?” Odin asked from above me.
“We had the costumes all picked out,” I said. “I don’t see the crime.”
“Of disobedience,” Zeus boomed.
“Say yes,” Thor whispered.
“I guess,” I said.
Thor disappeared. The next thing I knew, something cool and smooth tapped once and again on my bare ass—really lightly, just enough to jiggle it. It was so light, it sort of drove me wild. Was this my punishment? To be driven wild with not enough?
“How was that?” Odin asked.
I heaved out a breath as he slid the paddle across my bare ass and tapped. I shut my eyes tight. My sex heated. I wanted more…anything.
Zeus sent Thor from my range of vision. “Over there. You watch.” Zeus kneeled in front of me, taking Thor’s place. “If the clerks come and open the store, we’ll have trouble. Because of you two.” Gently Zeus brushed back my hair. “You are going to learn to obey me in all things, Isis. We can’t function as a criminal unit without that.” He took a deep breath. “Odin?”
I tensed, waiting. The silence went on long. Too long.
And then it came—the sting of the paddle on my bare flesh. I gasped, eyes wide.
Coolly, Zeus said, “One.”
Another whack. The slight sting of it blossomed into pleasant sensation, a kind of erotic reverberation.
“Two. Count with me, goddess. Say it.”
“Two,” I whispered.
There was a whoosh as it came down again, followed by a high-pitched whap.
Three. I shut my eyes tight. I felt so exposed—not physically, but about being over a man’s knee like this.
“Look at me, goddess.”
My breath raced as I gazed into Zeus’s green eyes.
Zeus smoothed his hands along my neck and shoulders, caressing me as Odin paddled me. The softness of Zeus’s touch and the intense slap of the paddle seemed to link up together inside me, winding inside toward my pussy. Had the spaces between each slap gotten unbearably long? A feeling of pure bliss built inside me, like a cup being filled.
Was I really going to come just from this?
Zeus roamed his hands over me, possessively. “Keep your eyes on me, goddess.” His power was sexy and irresistible.
I looked into his eyes. His breath had become as ragged as mine, and I felt like he was reaching into me, filling me, like we were fucking with our minds.
“You belong to us, goddess. We will always care for you, do you understand?”
“Yes,” I panted.
“But you and Thor have to obey orders.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Now, do you want Thor back? To pick up where you left off?”
“Oh, yes,” I panted. “God, yes.”
Zeus stood.
The paddling had ceased, I realized.
I felt hands caress my stinging butt cheeks and move to my hips, pulling gently upward. “Goddess,” Thor whispered. “Up.”
Would they really let us fuck now? Or would there be another twist in the punishment? And what the hell time was it?
I crawled a little bit backwards, forearms on the crate, but still over Odin’s lap.
Odin closed his fingers over my hair, holding me down against his lap, so that my face was pressed against the rough wool of his kilt. I loved the Neanderthal dirtiness of him holding my hair, pinning me to him. Not like he needed to; not like I was going anywhere. There was nowhere on the planet I’d rather be.
Thor pulled my hips up. “Spread for me, baby,” he said, pushing my kilt up more, sliding his fingers over the tender and probably very pink flesh of my ass.
I widened my stance, melty with desire.
Thor nudged the inside of my thigh. “Open more.” I stretched open, and Thor found the entrance to my sex, which was wet, and let’s just say, yearning.
The tip of his head pressed gently in. I tried to push back, force him in, but Odin held me firmly.
“Please,” I said, panting, forehead against the rough, woolly plaid on Odin’s lap, fingers clutching his meaty thighs through the fabric.
And then, in one firm, delicious slide, Thor was inside me.
I groaned. I’d waited so long.
Slowly, heavily, he moved in and out. My breath quickened.
“Yes, goddess,” Odin whispered, stroking my hair.
The pressure built and built until the feeling of pure bliss expanded and took over my mind. As if that wasn’t enough, Thor reached around and slid his clever fingers up and down against my clit and began to stroke.
The sharp, sweet feeling built in me and crested powerfully, like a tidal wave. I cried out as I broke apart in a blinding orgasm that spun on and on. Thor thrust into me again and again, unrelentingly. He pushed fatly into me one last time and grated out a garbled string of profanity as he came.
Sometime later he collapsed over my back…on Odin’s lap.
Best. Manwich. Ever.
With a punishment like this, I thought dizzily, I might disobey more often.
Of course, I didn’t actually say that.
“You belong to us, goddess,” Zeus said once again.
I looked up, dazed. He was still wearing his kilt. He went and grabbed one of the antique bullet sashes off the wall and put it on over one shoulder.
It was like a Miss America sash, if the Miss America pageant was for hot, dangerous bank robbers who fucked like gods.
“Now let’s get out of here, people. Daddy’s ready to rob a bank,” Zeus said.
We cleaned up. Zeus and Odin switched black face masks for the red ones, and Zeus threw a few hundreds onto the counter.
“That’s a high price for what we bought,” I observed.
“Wasn’t the shopkeepers who put a hit on us,” Zeus growled. “Our war is not on the shopkeepers of the world.”
Twelve
Odin reset the alarm and we headed out into the day, locking the back door behind us. We got into the car wearing our full outfits—the kilts, shirts, vests, and boots. Everything except for the facemasks.
Zeus started up the car and checked his watch. “Forty-five minutes.” He pulled out. He and Odin both wore those watches, which was unusual for them, but I supposed if you needed to check the time during a heist, you didn’t want to have to pull out your cell phone.
I hadn’t said anything about the kilts, not wanting to jinx it, but…kilts! Were they really going to wear them for the robbery? With no underwear? I had assumed, from the way Zeus and Odin were talking, that the kilts got nixed and that we’d stop and get different outfits. But they still had them on.
We stopped at a drive-through and got coffees, then parked in the Valu-Marque supermarket lot across from the bank.
Zeus pulled out binoculars and watched the entrance. “Nobody in yet.”
“Wait, so we’re just going to do it now?” I asked. “It’s time to rob a bank?”
Thor grinned. “It’s always time to rob a bank, baby.”
“You ready, Ice?” Odin asked. “You feeling okay? If you’re not feeling ready, you can drive. We don’t want to push you, but we’d prefer you inside. Not just for you to witness our all-powerful skills, but you’re ex-bank, after all.”
Ex-bank. Because I used to be a teller. I liked that. Zeus and Odin were ex-military and I was ex-bank. “I want to go in. I feel good. Nervous, but good. And not tired at all like I’ve been up all night,” I added.
“You won’t be tired ’til after,” Odin said.
“So…I thought you weren’t going for the kilts,” I said.
Zeus lowered the binoculars and directed the full intensity of his gaze at me. “I thought you wanted us to wear them.”
“No, I do! I do want you to!”
“Well, I’m getting into them now, too,” Zeus said. “I like the easy access. And the way I see it, nothing says fuck you quite like robbing a bank in kilts.” He glanced back at the bank. “Actually, I’m fucking loving these things. They communicate total disdain to those who have wronged us. It was an inspired choice, Ice. Plus, you think they’re hot.”
“I do think they’re hot,” I said.
“There’s not a lot we wouldn’t do for you, goddess.” Zeus said this last bit warmly, humorously, but I felt the gravity behind it, and I recognized it for the deepest kind of truth. And right then, I understood as I never had what the tattoo meant. We would never leave each other. We would always care for each other. We were beyond married.
He put the binoculars back to his face.
We can do anything together, I thought.
“Total disdain,” Odin said.
I smiled. “Did you know you’re not supposed to wear underwear with them?”
Odin snorted. “Is that public knowledge? That a man is naked under his kilt?”
“Pretty much,” I said.
“This just gets better.” Odin shimmied off his boxers. “One flash and nobody will be fucking-g remembering anything to ID us. We barely even need fake scars and tattoos. They’ll be looking at the kilts.”
“No, we’re still using the disguise stuff,” Zeus said. “No need to get sloppy.”
Odin grunted and pulled out the little kit. I chose a large thigh tattoo, a scar for my hand, and a beauty spot for my face. We all took a facial mark for luck—and for a mask-off scenario, they called it. Odin had wigs for us all to wear under the ski masks. Thor had grabbed antique bullet sashes for him and Odin back at the store. He put his over his head and across his shoulder.
“I don’t get one?” I asked.
“You don’t want one, trust me,” Thor said. “They weigh a ton.”
“But they look cool,” I said.
“Right?” Thor raised his blond brows. “They look scary. They look guerilla. Eighty percent of this game is mental.”
Odin handed out the guns. My pulse raced as I held mine, a large, silver, semi-automatic of some sort. We’d practiced at ranges, but it was so different to hold a live gun. Zeus and Odin and Thor all had machine guns, though I wasn’t supposed to call them that, as well as smaller side arms stuck into various pockets and belts. Things were getting really serious now.
Thor caught my train of thought, it seemed, because he put a hand on my shoulder. “Just to scare people,” he said. “We’ve never shot anybody in the course of a robbery, and we never will. It’s not what we’re about.”
“I know,” I said.
“Do you?” Zeus asked. “Because he’s right; nobody’s getting hurt here. That is the power that we have. Got it?”
I nodded. “I got it,” I said.
At twenty minutes to go-time, Odin pulled out a laptop and started hacking into the security firm’s site in order to re-route the bank security communications systems. He’d figured out the way in earlier, he’d told me.
Thor pointed over across the street at a no-parking hood over one of the meters in front of the bank. “We put that there,” he said. “One of your jobs will be to cut the ropes and pull that hood off, and then follow us in. You’re our helper. Whatever we need, you do it, okay? And the rest of the time, your eyes are on the street and the car, got it?”
I put my hand to my chest. “Got it.”
“And we’re going to act scary in there,” Odin said. “Remember?”
I nodded, recalling that first robbery. Odin had acted particularly dangerous and scary.
“Manager’s in,” Zeus said. “The tellers will show in a minute or two.”
Time seemed to slow. I was starting to feel nerve-jangly. I began to wring my hands, watching people go in and out of the big supermarket on the other side of the street, all having normal days. Unlike me.
“Don’t,” Thor laid a hand over mine.
“I’m fine,” I squeaked.
Odin looked back at me. “Isis. Question: do the woodsmen wear kilts?”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“You know. In that cartoon porn shit you always watch.”
I looked at Odin like he’d lost his mind. I couldn’t believe he wanted to discuss my porn predilection at a time like this.
Odin continued. “You know, the woodsmen who capture the helpless elf girl and put her in that stockade?”
“Yes! Stop!” I felt my face heat. “I think I know what you’re referring to.”
“So do they wear kilts?” he pressed. “Is that the attraction?”
“They wear Robin Hood outfits. Tight pants and hunting stuff. Possibly even tights.”
Odin frowned. “Are the tights green? I think of Robin Hood in green.”
“I can’t believe we’re discussing this when we’re about to do a heist. I don’t want to discuss the woodsmen.”
“Heist,” Zeus laughed. “About to do a heist.” He seemed to find the word humorous.
“I want to discuss it,” Odin said. “A woman’s fantasy is fascinating twenty-four hours a day.” He wanted to know about the stockade that the cartoon porn woodsmen would place the woman in. He made me describe it in detail. He said they might get some stockades made for their notorious room—just for me. I acted unsure, but eventually I admitted that I’d like it.
We were all laughing by the time Zeus started up the car and pulled out of the lot.
I stiffened.
“Cakewalk,” Odin said. “Five minutes. In and out. You cut the meter hood, follow us in, and stay alert. Can you do that?”
“Of course.”
“Golden.” We put on our wigs and masks and gloves. The black ski masks were way cooler than the red ones; I loved my bandits for choosing them. I tried to concentrate on that.
We parked at the hooded meter and got out on the sidewalk side. Even Zeus slid over and got out that way. I pulled the box cutter from my pocket, cut the ropes, and yanked the thing off.
Just that made me feel weirdly badass.
I sucked in a breath as I watched my guys slip in. The silver-and-glass door swung closed behind them, flashing bright as it caught the sun just coming up in the east.
Over in the bank window, the open sign went dark. The lights inside went off. My guys were already taking the place over.
I sucked in a breath and headed in.
Zeus was already up on the counter, machine gun in hand, herding the tellers out onto the floor. “We know all! We see everything!” he yelled. “Try something and you die!” He seemed so scary. And the bullet sash really did perfectly complete the kilt outfit, I thought vaguely.
Thor came near and threw me keys. “Lock up.”
I locked the door behind me and turned. My guys were moving with military precision, getting the people under control.
The manager was lying in the middle of the floor with a small handful of customers.
The place was dimly lit now, but you could still make out the slick wood furnishings and metal accents.
Eventually, things were quiet, except for the whimpers of one woman. I wished she understood she didn’t have to worry, and that we’d be gone in minute.
Right then, everything turned.
Zeus grabbed a lamp off a desk, and with a roar, like a crazed Scottish barbarian or something, he threw it against the wall.
It shattered.
What was happening? Why was he so mad? Somebody screamed.
“All phones means ALL phones!” Zeus yelled.
Odin had his sidearm out—a gun with a silencer. He shot at a man. The man yelped and jerked his arm toward his side. Something black and small exploded into pieces, skittering across the floor.
I gasped. He had shot the man’s phone—hopefully before a call had gone through.
“Anyone else want to make a call?” Odin said. “You’ll lose the phone and a hand!”
Odin turned the gun upward and shot the light, which exploded, showering glass everywhere. You could feel the terror flowing now.
I scanned the street. Calm, I told myself. He only shot a phone and a light fixture.
Odin made the people stretch out on their bellies. Then he strolled confidently back to join Zeus, leaving Thor in charge.
When I looked over at Thor, he nodded. Everything cool. I nodded back, keeping my eyes out front.
Odin and Zeus headed back to get the loot.
That’s when the trouble started. One of the customers, a middle-aged man, couldn’t breathe. He was on his side, gasping.
“I have to help him,” Thor said.
I looked at Thor with wide eyes. He was supposed to keep the people in order. Zeus and Odin would kill him if he left his role.
“Fuck me, I can’t just stand here,” Thor said.
“I know, but—”
“I have to help him.” Thor handed me the machine gun. “Hold the crowd.”
I stiffened. Hold the crowd? “Excuse me?” I said.
Still in his mask, Thor went to the man and kneeled next to him, loosening the guy’s tie. I heard Thor tell the man he was a doctor. He asked about his symptoms. He was no longer using his bank robber voice.
“Call the paramedics, Ice,” Thor called.
“What?” I said.
“Just do it.”
I pulled out my phone and called 911, reported we needed paramedics at the bank, and that it was a breathing thing. When the 911 operator asked more questions, I just hung up.
