The wrong idea, p.10
The Wrong Idea, page 10
“Because this is the kind of information criminals like to have.”
I heard a certain something in his voice that I had heard once before—a slight bitterness in how he said criminals. He had a thorny relationship with what they’d become—that’s the idea that I was getting.
I started thinking here about what the Gigis had said—it was all about Thor. Like Thor was a problem to solve, or like he was a person who needed extra care in some way.
“You’re more than criminals,” I said.
“Actually, we’re less,” he said, kissing the base of my throat.
My belly heated with desire.
“It’s not what any of us ever dreamed, not even what we trained for,” Thor whispered. “We’re like goddamn ghosts. We add nothing.”
I stepped back. “Stop it, Thor. You guys are awesome.”
“We’re ghosts of vengeance.” He pushed my sleeves partway off my shoulders.
“Thor, I don’t want to mess up this job.”
“Do you know what it was like, in the restaurant basement tonight? Watching you with them?”
It was technically last night, but I didn’t point that out. “We only have half an hour to pick out the costumes. And they said no fucking around.”
Thor’s voice turned gravelly. “I know what they said.”
“They’re counting on us.”
“Don’t worry so much.” He pressed to me closer, until I could feel the heat of his breath on my nose. The electric pulse of excitement between us intensified. “Zeus and Odin are a lot more fun when they’re mad. I know you know that.”
True enough.
“And it doesn’t matter what we do. They’re the team. Robbing banks with Zeus and Odin is like if a grade school football team had two professional football players on it. The other players can be terrible, and their team will still win. You and I could do anything, and we’d still be part of the most high-achieving gang on the planet.”
He pushed me gently toward a square pillar covered with mirrors and kissed me. He felt so warm and good against me.
“They’re the ultimate pros.”
I smiled into the kiss. “And you’re the doctor.”
“Was,” he whispered into my ear.
Was? This startled me. Didn’t he feel like a doctor anymore? Like he wasn’t worthwhile, wasn’t a healer? “You still are. You saved both Zeus’s and my lives. What is that, a big zilch? Because it’s not a zilch to me. You care. You help people. That doesn’t change.”
“Shhhh.”
The mirror felt cool and smooth on my back, and Thor’s kisses were tender and warm.
He said, “I prescribe fucking off a little of this adrenaline. It will help us concentrate.”
I pushed him away. “Our job is to get costumes, dude!”
He gave me a dark look; I think he saw that I was serious. Then he smiled, like putting on costumes was a good new sexy idea. “Let’s get some costumes on, then.”
“Yeah.”
I turned to a rack and pulled off a flak jacket. Thor wasn’t giving himself enough credit. He was a good doctor and a good man who’d cared enough to speak up when it was hard, when he saw people being hurt and killed, even though it got him into trouble with dangerous people—the dangerous people that Odin and Zeus had once worked for. He was a good robber, too; I’d seen him in action, after all, back when the gang robbed the bank I worked at.
He came up behind me and circled his arms around my waist. “All those pockets in that vest are good. We’ll go in really military.”
I pointed up at a display on the wall. “Gas masks would be scary.”
“They cut off your vision too much.”
“I think military is too obvious, anyway. Also, I think it could jinx things because of Odin and Zeus’s history. The military wasn’t good to them.”
“They weren’t specifically military,” Thor said, smoothing his hands up toward my breasts.
“Whatever. Intelligence ops. Still.” I pulled away and walked down a dark aisle. Military boots lined the wall in the footwear section. There were also oddball shoes. I found a rack of wooden clogs. From the Netherlands? I held them up. Thor shook his head. “Impractical for running.”
We picked out tall lace-up black boots and tried them on. Comfortable. Thor picked out sizes for Zeus and Odin and put them in the cart. I also found red ski masks. Very classic. They all went in the cart.
“We usually go for more theatrical,” Thor said. “Like Halloween masks. It distracts people.”
“But if we’re covered in black from head to toe and wearing red ski masks, we would be theatrical.”
“We don’t want to look like a mime troupe.”
Ignoring him, I grabbed a black long-sleeved shirt and a ragged black military vest with lots of pockets and held them up. “How about these together?”
Thor pulled off his dinner jacket, slowly, and threw it aside. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, giving me a sexy glower, doing a kind of striptease.
My mouth went dry. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
Don’t be so sexy, I thought. Don’t let me see how hot you are when nekkid.
He threw the shirt and unbuttoned his fly, watching me.
I couldn’t look away, and he knew it. I felt like a crazily coiled-up spring, what with the bank robbery in an hour, and here he was, deliciously dangerous, cock straining against the fabric of his black boxer briefs, irresistibly hot and fuckable.
He gave me one of his wicked smiles. “Come here.”
“We have a job. One job!” I threw him the rough, black, pocket-laden vest and long-sleeved shirt. “Try that on!”
He put them both on over his black boxers. My resistance was eroding.
“We need pants,” he said. “You have one minute to pick out pants.”
My pulse raced. If I picked out pants in the next minute, we would have time to fuck, which would be fun. Zeus and Odin didn’t need to know. But they’d said not to!
Stay strong! I told myself.
I walked deeper into the store, vibrating with excitement, passing silk Japanese robes, trench coats, camouflage fatigues, and more, feeling proud of myself for resisting Thor so well.
I was hoping to find green wool pants. That would be a cool Alpine look—wool pants tucked into the boots.
But then I came to the kilts.
Thor came up behind me. “No way.”
I pulled one off the rack--brown and black plaid. “Do you know how distracting kilts would be?”
And hot.
I picked out sizes for Zeus and Odin.
“They won’t be into kilts,” Thor said.
“It’ll be so cool. I’m begging you, Thor. Put it on.”
He came close, chest brushing mine. “What will you do for me?”
“Anything,” I whispered, pulse racing. “I will do anything if you wear this.”
His eyes darkened. “You already do anything.”
“Now. Right now. If you put it on, I’ll forget they told us not to fuck around.”
“I shouldn’t make this deal.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t see us pulling a job in kilts.”
“Let me at least model it for you,” I said.
Thor looked wary. Of all the bandits, Thor was the most sensitive to fashion, and I was about to exploit that knowledge. I just needed this kilt thing to happen; it was a deep, deep need I couldn’t quite explain. Except that we were about to walk into a very dangerous situation, and if I ended up shot or in jail, I wanted to have my bank robbers in kilts just once. And to fuck Thor while he wore a kilt…it would complete my life.
Okay, maybe that was just my libido talking. I pulled off my dress and put on the black boots, so I was wearing only the boots and a thong. Two could play at this game.
Thor licked his lips.
I shook my head and added the black shirt and vest. And then the kilt, in my size. And then slowly, I reached under my kilt and took off the thong and threw it into the cart. “You’re not supposed to wear underwear with kilts.”
“Jesus.” He came to me, kissed me, grabbed my hair. “You have to let me bend you over that crate and fuck you right now,” he panted. “I can’t believe how hot you are in this thing. You have to let me do that.”
My heart raced. “They said no fucking around. Unless you’ve changed your mind about the kilts. We can fuck if we finished the task.”
He slid a hand up my bare thigh, under my kilt, and pushed between my legs to finger my wet seam. My very wet seam.
I sighed theatrically.
He seemed almost to tremble as he stroked me—I could feel it in his fingers.
The adrenaline of the upcoming job heightened everything.
“Put it on,” I whispered. “I’m begging you.”
Like he was suddenly possessed by a force beyond him, Thor lurched away and pulled down his boxer briefs, letting his giant golden cock spring free. He pulled on the kilt. With his shaggy blond hair, those massive black boots, the black top, and battle-worn vest, he looked gorgeous and dangerous. Like a post-apocalyptic Scottish ruffian.
Like a god.
I swallowed.
He let me get my fill of him; Thor was diabolical in that way. Then he came toward me to claim me, locking his hands on my hips. He lifted me onto a tall crate in one fluid motion, and then he kissed me. “I am going to devour you.”
“So we’re pulling the heist in kilts?” I asked, reaching under the heavy woolen kilt fabric to find his warm, steely cock. I grabbed on to it and let him push into my grip, fucking my hand as I stroked him. I wanted to suck him and fuck him both at the same time.
With feverish motions, he pushed up my kilt. I wiggled to let him get it all the way off my ass, even though the crate was slightly rough. I’d never been one to mind rough.
“Is that a yes?” I asked.
“Yes, dammit. Wait.” He turned away and grabbed his old pants from the shopping cart and pulled a condom out of the pocket. “Take off your top.”
I complied as he rolled the condom onto his cock. Then he grabbed my knees and pushed apart my legs, watching my eyes as he pressed his cock along my slit.
“Thor,” I said, taking ahold of his massive girth, guiding him as he entered me slowly and fully, all the way to the hilt in one strong, solid motion.
“Damn,” he said, pulling out and thrusting in again.”
I felt dizzy and breathless from the exciting and slightly uncomfortable fullness of him.
We panted almost in unison, fucking slow and steady, building up a head of steam. He changed his angle, fucking me new, perfectly rubbing my sensitive nub.
I gasped, consumed with the mounting pleasure of it.
He suckled and bit one of my breasts as he fucked me, and I gasped some more. It seemed so surreal, fucking in kilts right there in a closed store, about to rob a bank. The whole world fell away. There was only his cock pounding into me, his tongue in my ear, on my breast, my hands in his hair.
And the kilt.
“God, Isis,” he breathed. “I just want to fuck you forever. This is worth the wrath of Odin and Zeus.”
A deep voice behind us. “That’s convenient.”
Zeus.
Thor froze, mid-thrust.
“Extremely convenient,” Zeus continued, “considering that’s exactly what you’ve earned.”
I peered over Thor’s shoulder. Odin was there in the darkness, too.
“Thor” Odin growled.
Thor didn’t bother to crane his neck around; he simply tipped his forehead to my chest, breathing heavily. “You have to let us finish.”
“Go out to the car and get the box, Thor,” Odin said. “Now.”
The box?
Thor looked a little wild as he pulled out of me. He turned and left.
I smoothed my kilt back down and closed my eyes, listening to his boot steps recede, feeling bereft. Odin’s box? The paddle? Weren’t we on a timetable of some sort? Did we not have a bank to rob? Was the store not going to open?
“What the fuck are you two wearing?” Zeus asked.
“Kilts,” I said.
“What the fuck?” he boomed.
“You said to choose an outfit for the job. We chose kilts, and we had a little time to kill…”
“Kilts? This is what you’ve chosen for us to do the job in?” Zeus grabbed one of the kilts from the cart. Was he angry? “This is what you chose?”
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling all screwed up and sexually frustrated—like a bottle of rocket fuel was in me, fully ignited and ready to rocket me to the moon. But with no rocket. And no moon. “It would mean so much to me.”
Odin snorted. “You want us to do the job in skirts?”
“They’re kilts. Scottish warriors fought whole battles in them,” I protested. “Thor said…”
“I bet he did,” Odin said darkly. “What face wear?”
“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, worrying 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.
“The kilt?”
“It’s what you picked, isn’t it?” he barked.
Yes.
My belly tightened. Being cut off in the middle of fucking had put me in an absolute frenzy. Now my bandits would all wear kilts? I wasn’t sure if my nervous system could handle that.
Odin stripped down to his boxer-briefs and stood there stewing at me. He truly was built like a god, what 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 him between my legs. Needed to—bad!
He smiled. He knew.
Another thing I realized: this was only the beginning of my punishment.
And he’d called for the box. The one with the paddle inside it.
Gulp.
He knew I was thinking about that. Also, the danger of the store clerks coming early—was I the only one worrying about that? 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-pocketed vest. Next, he put on the big motorcycle boots.
Finally, he put on the kilt.
Gasp.
Odin standing there with his mussed hair and his hot, glowery looks wearing beat-up black military stuff with a kilt that barely his hard cock…he was every sex dream I’d ever had, all combined into a kaleidoscope playing inside my libido.
“Like this, goddess?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
His legs were like tree trunks below the hem of the kilt, and god, those motorcycle boots, black and leathery and dangerous.
Not to be left behind in my admiration, Zeus stripped down and put on a matching kilts outfit, 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 strike terror into the hearts of those 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?”
“Umm…sorry.”
“You’ve been a very naughty goddess,” Odin whispered. “Fucking Thor when we said not to.”
I could barely see straight at this point, craving more touch, more kilt, more cowbell, 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!” I protested. “Why is it all my fault?”
“Don’t worry, Thor will pay, too.” Odin touched two blunt, hard fingertips to the side of my face and slid them down, leaving a trail of heat and energy.
The room was quiet as a morgue, aside from the booming of my pulse in my ears, pounding in a rhythm that I could feel clear down to my clit.
He kept going, trailing his fingers on down the side of my neck, and farther still, carelessly caressing my bare breasts. “Gods are never fair. We are wrathful. It is in our nature.”
It’s here I noticed how sped-up his breathing had become. How his eyes shone.
Super into it.
Uh-oh.
His voice went down an octave, sending tremors through my pelvis. “Now get up.”
He sounded so serious. Grave, even.
Excitement surged through my veins. “So I get all the blame?”
“And now you get double the punishment, too,” he growled. “Any more objections?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Good. Now get up or things will get very, very extreme.”
I tried not to smile. Could things even get more extreme?
“Don’t think they can’t get more extreme, goddess,” he said.
I got up.
He yanked out a different crate and banged it onto the floor right next to the one I was on, creating a kind of bench. He settled himself down on it, right next to me.
“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.”
