Page 4 of The Deeper Game (The Kinky Bank Robbers #3)
Chapter Three
I forced my mind onto the details of the bank as I mounted the hard, gleaming front steps. The smiling doormen opened the doors for me. Did their smiles seem too smiley?
No. No way could they know, I told myself.
I walked in and clicked into professional mode, letting my awareness spread across the floor. I counted the employees and noted their positions.
Odin had snuck a few tiny cameras in there and mounted them on architectural detailing, but nothing was quite as effective as actually being there, where you could feel the place, become part of its ecosystem.
And being that I’d worked at a bank, I picked up things other people didn’t.
We’d all been happy when we’d figured out that the manager of the Prime Royale, a fit and well-tanned blond man of maybe forty-five, was an asshole. Asshole managers created a pressurized situation while they were present, which meant a release of pressure when they left.
We’d be robbing the bank after hours later in the week, but a day or two before the robbery, Zeus would have to go into the lobby and get at the environmental control panel.
We were planning to handle that part of the operation during this lax late-morning time, helped along by a bit of a diversion.
The manager leaned on the customer side of the teller window—giving some last instructions before his break, I guessed.
I got into the line at the very next window and listened.
Something about bundling ones. He liked to make sure the tellers didn’t slack off while he was gone.
Which of course meant the opposite. Such is the way of asshole bosses and their employees.
One of the men at a desk discreetly pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and lowered it into his lap. He’d start texting as soon as the big guy was out.
Still, even with all of our expertise and current advantages, the Prime Royale would be hard to rob. We had a new partner on board because of it—Matteo. Matteo was a tough, tattooed dude who once ran with a girl gang known as the Giraffes, though most people called them the Gigis.
Matteo had been robot dancing at a club frequented by the criminal underworld of LA when I first saw him.
And let me assure you, robot dancing in no way lessened his toughness.
In fact, I can safely say that robot dancing with a machine gun slung over your back tends to add to your toughness factor.
It says to the world that you can do whatever weird-ass thing you want, and you just don’t care.
Normally, my guys would’ve never pulled Matteo into a job, but he had those codes to the tertiary alarm system.
The Prime Royale was full of jewels, and Matteo planned to use his cut of the jewels to bribe his way back into the good graces of the Gigis.
They’d let him be a member once upon a time when he was with Macy.
I doubted they’d ever let him back in—they seemed pretty committed to being a girl gang—but who knows, maybe Macy would forgive him.
I was second in line now. I stood to the side, where I wouldn’t show up on the front-and-center bank camera, feeling proud of how much I was observing and how normal I was acting in spite of being on the verge of an orgasm.
I watched the way all the employees watched the blond manager. He was pretty good looking, but you could tell he thought he was extremely good looking.
I glanced away as he passed. I didn’t need to catch this guy’s eye.
And that’s when the unit stuck up my ass and between my legs began to vibrate. Softly, gently. It wasn’t just a fancy dildo. It was some sort of clit-and-butt vibrator. A clit-and-butt-erator.
I sucked in a silent breath.
Because, oh, wow , it felt so good. I bit my lip and focused through the pleasure. I’d show my guys how well I could concentrate.
So I stood there, working to regain mental control over the intensity of the feeling, which was not easy; the pulsing clit-and-butt-erator pressure coupled with the relentless squeeze of the nipple clamps was quite delicious.
I thought about what Zeus often told me— keep a wide, calm focus.
He’d typically say it when we were casing a place or doing something risky, but I felt it could apply to this situation.
Don’t work at it, let the environment come to you.
I took a breath and relaxed, letting my focus go wide, just giving in to the sensation and the surroundings, and I suddenly got what he meant; I felt observant at a new level. Crystal-sharp, even.
Like I could do anything.
It was my turn. I took on a confident, casual attitude.
Just as I approached the window, the vibrations stopped.
They were watching the feed, of course, and I felt a bit annoyed—I could’ve done the deed buzzing.
I greeted the teller and began my transaction.
Standing at the teller window gave me a good view of the back of the house.
This was a tight operation, and even though my guys were talented robbers who’d been trained to work undercover in enemy territory and fight covert wars, too, I worried about this job. This was the mythical Big One.
We could retire on it—that was my secret idea.
My guys rarely thought about the future, but I hoped that I was changing that. At least they’d stopped blowing one hundred percent of their money on fancy hotels and champagne and other wasteful lavishness. It was more like sixty percent now.
The teller, a pretty woman with jet-black bangs, counted out a small pile of twenties. I took them, thanking her, and nestled them carefully into my wallet.
Five minutes later, the smiling, top-hatted doormen simultaneously opened the golden doors of the Prime Royale for me and I strolled out, stepping down the marble stairs between the suspiciously perfect palms, feeling pretty damn pleased with myself.
As soon as I hit the sidewalk, the vibrations started—the nipple clamps and the unit between my legs—both at once.
It was an intense hit of pleasure. I wanted so badly to come, and briefly I considered stopping at the bus stop bench and just letting it happen.
I was out of the bank now; the test was over.
But I strolled on down to our stakeout SUV. Because I was in control!
When I got to the sidewalk side, I could see tough-ass Matteo in the front seat with Odin, talking animatedly.
Crap.
I’d die if he knew I had little vibrating implements all over me. The back door cracked open. Thor. He slid over and I got in with the stuff still vibrating.
“Him Matteo,” I said in a surprisingly relaxed tone.
“Hey, Ice.” He twisted around in the seat. “How’s it look in there?”
“Same as yesterday,” I said, proud to manage a semi-normal voice. “Relaxed. The plainclothes who guards the side is struggling with bad allergies right now, too, and he’s very unaware. I hope they don’t improve for a while. Not to be a bitch.”
Thor snorted.
“I’m liking that,” Matteo said. “Liking it.” He had brown hair and a wide face and lots of tattoos on his arms, and he was very much a guy’s guy.
His eyes fell to my breasts. I couldn’t blame him—it looked like I was wearing some very serious nipple jewelry. I quickly began to dig inside my bag in a way that obscured them, hoping he hadn’t noticed the vibrations, because let’s face it, that would look really unprofessional.
Odin asked him about some small aspect of timing, and Matteo turned back.
I smiled. Did my crafty bank robber not like Matteo looking at my breasts? Yeah, maybe he should have thought about that before he put vibrating clamp contraptions on them.
The vibrations ceased, and I relaxed just a bit.
I was hoping Matteo would leave after he answered the question—he was stationed in the park today—but he rambled on. He had extensive opinions about pretty much everything; the man was just as brilliant as my guys, but very opinionated.
The plan was that Zeus would stay behind in the ducts after the bank closed on the day of the robbery and let the three guys in. I had the big outside support role. It was a large and complicated operation.
“We’re gonna get hungry in there,” Matteo said. “Two words: beef jerky.”
“That shit’s full of nitrates,” Thor said.
“Don’t worry, doc. Not the place I get it from,” Matteo said. “All natural.”
I smiled. Opinionated Matteo knew where to get the best of everything. I could see the Gigis getting pissed at him and kicking him out. But he had a good heart, too.
Odin caught my eye as he and Matteo went over the list of tools Zeus was bringing in to conceal in the workspace—one or two a day.
I stiffened, hoping he didn’t get it in his head to start up the vibrations. I finally felt normal, or at least I was out of the I-have-to-come-right-now-or-I’ll-die zone.
Odin smiled.
I narrowed my eyes and shook my head.
They continued their discussion.
“What is it, goddess?” Thor asked. I didn’t have to look at him to see he was grinning.
“Nothing,” I said, leaning back.
Surely they didn’t want Matteo to know. Matteo would want things professional.
While Zeus mainly liked the idea of robbing the Prime Royale because it was the biggest fuck you possible, just one rung below hitting Fort Knox, Matteo wanted a specific set of diamond jewelry, known as the Liz Taylor diamonds, to give to the Gigis.
Odin had originally wanted the Liz Taylor diamonds, too. He’d wanted to wear them to taunt the Gigis because they’d pissed him off on a certain occasion, but the guys made a deal with Matteo in order to get the intel that he had.
It had been agreed that Odin would wear the Princess Harrod sapphires to taunt the Gigis in retaliation for trying to get me to join their gang. Then, after a set amount of time, Matteo would be free to give them the Liz Taylor diamonds, which Odin would not be permitted to wear as a taunt.
I was to get a diamond tiara that was worth more than all of those other jewels put together.