“I bet he did,” Odin said darkly. “What facewear?”
“Ski masks,” I said. “I know you said not to fuck around, but…”
“Yet you and Thor did fuck around, didn’t you? Didn’t you, Ice?” Odin said.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Zeus rummaged through the cart and held up the faded, ripped black vest. “Pockets at least.”
“Don’t we have a timetable?” I asked, thinking about the box. “And the store will open soon.”
“Suddenly that’s a concern?”
Odin pulled off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying on the costume you’re recommending.” He began to strip.
My belly tightened. Being cut off in the middle of fucking had put me in an erotic frenzy. Now my bandits would all be in kilts? I wasn’t sure if I could handle that without sproinging into the air all fluffed up like a heated popcorn kernal.
Odin stripped down to his boxers and stood there, stewing at me. He was built like a god, with his broad shoulders and his thick, lushly muscled chest. My eyes fell to his bulging thighs, the outline of his hard cock. I wanted to feel all that masculinity between my legs. And then he smiled. He knew, I realized. This was only the beginning of my punishment.
And he’d called for the box. With the paddle inside it.
Gulp.
He knew I was thinking about that. And the store clerks coming early. They loved to play the edge, my bandits.
Odin pulled the long-sleeved black shirt on over his head. Then he put on the rough black pockets vest. Next he put on the boots. Finally he put on the kilt. It was a kind of crazy nirvana, seeing Odin standing there with his mussed hair and his stubble and glowery looks wearing beat-up black military stuff with a kilt. His legs were like tree trunks below the hem. And then there were the motorcycle boots, black and leathery and dangerous. “Like this, goddess?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Then Zeus put on the stuff, too, and stood before me, all rough and hot and neo-warrior in his own way.
“That’s good,” I said.
“This is what you’re recommending?” He pointed at the cart. “With those red ski masks?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“This is what you’d have us wear to rob a bank and ultimately strike terror into the hearts of the government officials who wronged us?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Zeus cast a dark glance toward Odin.
“What if the clerk comes early?” I asked.
Odin strolled to where I sat on the crate and ran his hands along my thighs, roughly helping himself to me. “Now you think about that?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been a very naughty goddess,” Odin whispered.
I could barely see straight at this point, craving his touch, more touch, more everything.
Odin was rambling on. “…to corrupt Thor like you did. Do you think we can’t piece this situation together? Thor wouldn’t wear a kilt unless he had a very extreme incentive. And now you’ll have to be punished.”
“Wait, it’s my fault?”
Odin narrowed his eyes. “That’s how it looks to me.”
“But…” I caught an amused glance from Zeus. “Hold on! Why is it all my fault?”
“You think Thor is enjoying himself? Because he’s not.” Odin touched the side of my face, then trailed down to stroke carelessly over my bare breasts. “Gods are never fair. We are wrathful. It is in our nature.” His pupils were dilated, and his breathing had sped up.
Super into it. Uh oh.
His voice lowered an octave, sending tremors down through my pelvis. “Now get up.”
Excitement surged through my veins at the serious new tone he was taking. “So I get all the blame?”
“And double the punishment now,” Odin growled. “Any more objections?”
“No,” I whispered. I could feel my heart pounding from my ears clear down to my clit.
“Good. Now get up or things get very, very extreme. Don’t think they can’t.”
I complied. Roughly, he pulled out a different crate, a lower one, banging it onto the floor. He settled himself down on it.
“Now bend over my lap.”
“What?”
“Shhh, goddess, on my lap. You’re getting your punishment early.”
“But…”
“But what? The shopkeeper?” Odin glowered. “Well, imagine the scene he’ll come upon if you don’t fucking-g hurry up. Our intelligence says he won’t be here for a while, but the longer we stay, the less sure we can be.”
I looked down at the kilt covering his muscular thighs—and a boner, I imagined. Suddenly, there was nothing more I wanted in the world than to bend over his lap…nothing more except maybe for him to command it again.
“Now, Ice.”
I stretched carefully over his 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 thighs. 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 small, thin, gleaming wooden paddle lay on 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 crazy. Was this my punishment? To be driven crazy 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 pulled 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 reverb.
“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 and so crazy excited about it.
“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 felt sexy and irresistable. I loo
ked 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 buttcheeks 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.
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, feeling 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.
Some time later he collapsed over my back…on Odin’s lap.
With a punishment like this, I thought dizzily, I might disobey more often. Of course, I didn’t say that.
“You belong to us, goddess,” Zeus said, again.
I looked up, dazed. He was still wearing his kilt, though he had grabbed one of the antique bullet sashes off the wall and now he put it on over one shoulder.
It was just like a Miss America sash, if the Miss America pageant was for hot, dangerous bank robbers instead of beauty queens.
“Now let’s get the fuck 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 great 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.”
CHAPTER SIX
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 looked at his watch. “Forty-five minutes.” He pulled out. He and Odin both wore watches. It seemed old-fashioned, but I suppose if you needed to check the time during a heist, you didn’t want to have to pull out your cellphone.
I hadn’t said anything about the kilts. Were they really going to wear them? 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.
Instead 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.
“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 ascendancy, but you’re ex-bank, after all.”
Ex-bank. Because I used to be a teller. I liked that. “I want to go in. I feel good. Nervous, but good. And, not at all like I’ve been up all night at all,” I added.
“You won’t ‘til after,” Odin said.
“So…I thought you weren’t going for the kilts.”
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. “Yeah, 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,” I said.
“There’s not a lot we wouldn’t do for you, goddess.” He 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. That 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 you’re naked under kilts?”
“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 won’t even need fake scars and tattoos. They’ll be looking at the kilts.”
“We’re still using that stuff,” Zeus said. “No need to get sloppy.”
Odin grunted and pulled out the little kit. I chose a large thigh tattoo, a scar on my hand, and a beauty spot for my face. We all took a facial marks for luck—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, too, 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. They weigh a ton.”
“But they look cool,” I said.
He raised his blond brows. “They look scary. They look guerilla. Eighty percent of this game is mental.”
Then came 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 bring a live gun into the wild. Zeus and Odin and Thor all had big guns, like machine guns, and smaller side arms stuck into various pockets and belts. Things were getting really serious now. Maybe it was too much; the guns made everything so lethal.
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. 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 to re
-route the bank security. He’d worked 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 it 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 in particular had seemed dangerous and insane. He’d certainly scared me.
“Manager’s in,” Zeus said. “The tellers’ll 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, all having normal days. Unlike me.
“Don’t,” Thor laid a hand over mine.
Odin looked back at me. “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 was crazy. I couldn’t believe he wanted to discuss my embarrassing porn predilection at a time like this.
Odin continued. “You know, the porn with the woodsmen capturing the helpless girl and putting her in that stockade?”
I felt my face go red. “I think I know what you’re referring to.”
“So do they wear kilts?” he pressed. “Is that the attraction?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, mind blanking. I thought about it a little harder, trying to picture. “No, they wear Robin Hood outfits. Pants and hunting stuff.”
Odin frowned. “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. “Before a heist.”
“A woman’s fantasy is fascinating 24 hours a day,” Odin said. 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 protested, even though it would be kind of cool. We were all laughing by the time Zeus started up the car and pulled out of the lot.
The Wrong Turn Page 8