Page 2 of The Hard Way (The Kinky Bank Robbers #5)

Chapter Two

Between Thor’s bawdy foot explorations, Odin’s deliciously dangerous mood, and now his hand on my thigh, I wasn’t sure I could make it to the promised alley.

“We’ve earned the respect of this fine restaurant,” Odin said.

“It would be wrong to abuse it by fucking you here on the table, and my preference really is toward that alley. A little bit dirty. A little bit degraded. Just like you will be once we’re done fucking-g you in whatever way we please…

” He squeezed my thigh, sending waves of heat through me. “But if you refuse to go…”

I looked over at Zeus. He seemed to be following along, but he apparently wasn’t in the mood to stop Odin from getting wild.

“Don’t look at Zeus. He’s in vacation mode. In fact, I think that’s a lot of the problem here.” Odin lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’ve gotten soft, haven’t you, goddess? We’ve been treating you like a queen, but sometimes you’re not a queen at all, are you?”

My blood raced. They had been treating me like royalty…not that I was complaining, but I’d forgotten how much I loved this old feeling, like being at the top of a rollercoaster—that momentary pause before the screaming descent starts .

“Sometimes you’re a whore—a dirty, dirty whore who waits naked in alleys and waits for men to come and shamelessly use her body, aren’t you?”

I stared into the middle distance, eyes widened, which could be loosely translated into, um, yes please!

“I want to find you up against that wall. Quivering.”

I imagined being up against a rough wall, naked, vulnerable to strangers in the night. Aka my guys.

Odin moved his hand to my sex. My panties were thoroughly soaked thanks to all that talk of his. And yes, they had been treating me like a queen. So gentle and sweet. We’d been recovering from a lot of hell.

“But don’t think you can press your mound against the wall and get off that way or even get any little bit of pleasure, because this— ” He squeezed my pussy.

The bolt of pleasure that went through me rocked me.

“—this is for us. Only for us. You understand? It’s for the use of our cocks however we see fit. ”

“Okay.” What else do you say to a statement like that? Oh, Odin was in a wild mood. I couldn’t wait to see what he’d do next, say next.

He kept his eyes on mine and his possessive hand on my pussy. It would feel amazing if he massaged it right about now. I moved against his hand.

Odin widened his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I moved again, and Odin tightened his hand, stopping me right in my pussy-grinding tracks. “Is that appropriate? When a husband gives you a command?”

“Guh,” I squeaked.

He let me go and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs, gazing at me imperiously from under chocolatey eyelashes.

A scar bisected his cheekbone—more deep than dainty.

Odin had a lot of scars elsewhere on his body, too—deep, horrible scars he never wanted to talk about.

To some they might have been ugly, but to me they operated like flaws in diamonds, the way flaws can make diamonds unique, priceless, wildly beautiful.

Some of his scars were from fighting, but the worst ones had not landed there by chance. They were deliberate. Parallel. Darker in origin.

“In fact,” Odin continued, “I want you against the wall, waiting. Perfectly ready.” He pulled out a small bottle of olive oil from his satchel.

Had he picked it up on the way here? We’d stopped at a few stores.

“I want that ass perfectly prepared for what I have planned. Thor, you will need to prepare her tight little asshole thoroughly. Very fucking-g thoroughly.” He turned his amber gaze to me.

“Ice, I want you waiting pressed up against the wall with your ass a little bit out, so that we know you haven’t been rubbing against it. ”

“W-what?”

Odin narrowed his eyes. “That question makes me think you might be forgetting what you’re here for.”

Thor looked at me regretfully. I knew that look. He was getting into it.

I swallowed.

Odin eyed me. He liked pushing the envelope. Pushing everyone beyond their comfort zones. Most especially me.

I’d gotten used to a featherbed, and Odin was offering…a bed of nails. But I felt alive, suddenly. And scared and hot, and like I was flying a little bit.

“You look excited, goddess. You think I’ve invented this plan just for your excitement?”

Yes , yes yes I do, I thought, pulse racing, desiring nothing more than his hand on my pussy again. I just needed that, needed him.

He turned to Thor. “Take her to that alley and strip her.” Casually, he sat back, twirling his foot in circles, an unreasonable dictator waiting for his subjects to fulfill his command.

Thor stood, blond locks shining in the moonlight. “Come on, Ice.”

“What if somebody walks by?”

Thor took hold of my arm and hauled me up. “Maybe you’d like that.”

I narrowed my eyes and thought about it a little bit. “It’s true, I do like a watcher, but only under certain circumstances…”

“What is this? Debate squad?” Odin growled. “Keep stalling and you’ll lose your heels, too.”

“Wait a minute.” Zeus finally spoke up. “Hooooooold on a second here.” He peered at Odin uncertainly, as if gazing through thick fog. “You have her stripping down to her high heels to wait naked in the alley…”

Odin turned a harsh gaze toward Zeus. “That’s right.”

Zeus looked confused. “Standing there waiting for us in just her high heels?” he said.

Odin gave him a hard gaze. “Yeah.”

Zeus straightened. “Why the fuck would you change your mind and have her take the heels off? The heels make the whole thing hot.”

Odin turned to me triumphantly. His eyes were a harsh caress on my body—up and down and everywhere.

Thor pulled me up. “Come on.” He helped me navigate over the cobblestones, off into the gloomy darkness where even the moonlight didn’t shine. “This is the commercial district. Nobody will come.”

“Right,” I whispered.

“Though you never know.”

I snorted. My guys would never make me wait naked for them where just anyone could come by, but I loved the vague threat of it. And Thor knew it.

He led me into the dark alley, rough concrete pockmarked with gouges from centuries of delivery vehicles bashing into the walls, creating deep divots.

Thor put on his iPhone flashlight, and I noticed a row of small windows loomed above, each covered with a cage.

Storehouses, closed for the night. There was a lamp up there, too.

Burned out. Faint graffiti covered one section of wall.

Maybe from last month or fifty years ago—you never really knew with Rome.

He stopped me midway down and pocketed his phone.

“Strip, goddess.”

“I’m not so sure about this plan,” I said.

“Is that a Mississippi?”

“Did it sound like a Mississippi?” I said, a little too saucy.

Thor pressed a firm hand at my chest and pushed me against the wall. The roughness of it caught on the fabric of my dress. It was kind of delicious. Needless to say, I was in a very non-Mississippi mood.

With a stormy gaze, he yanked off the belt of my dress.

It was a wraparound, the favored style of fancy Italian designers and dirty-minded bank robbers the world over.

He pulled the halves apart and slid his hands up and down my bare belly.

“I like you like this. So much.” He pressed in for a kiss as he pushed the dress off over my shoulders.

I shrugged it off and gave it to him. He bunched it up and fit it in his pocket.

“Panties,” he said.

I sucked in a breath. I’d recently gotten a Brazilian wax, and I felt extra exposed.

“ Now ,” he said.

“What if they make me wait a long time?”

He stepped near to me, hooked his thumbs on either side of my panties, and slid them down my thighs and down, down, down my legs. He knelt in front of me and planted a kiss on my bare mound. “Correction: I love you like this.” He gripped my thighs and shoved his tongue right into my folds.

“Omigod.” I grabbed his hair, nearly coming right there.

His clever tongue delved between my legs.

Did I say clever tongue? His tongue was more than clever; it was dangerously intelligent—omniscient, even.

Thor’s tongue knew all, knew how to zero in on the most ticklish and needy places between my legs that even my mind hadn’t detected, while cunningly changing into the most devastatingly perfect shape, from hard, tubular muscle to a flat resistance-is-futile entity.

And then it was gone.

“Noooo!” I whispered. “Back!”

He stood back up and undid my bra. “You think you can pull me off task?” he asked with a humorous glint in his eyes. “Is that what you’re trying to do?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

“You are so poorly behaved,” he said, fingering me, “with your pussy so beautiful like that.” He was breathing hard, pulling my bra loose from my arms with one hand and touching me with the other.

Soon his suit jacket pockets bulged with my outfit. I winced to think of the wrinkles, though the outfit not actually being on me was the far greater fashion faux pas .

Thor whipped off his suit jacket and hung it on a bit of rebar that was sticking out like a wiry arm, high above, so that he was just in shirt sleeves. He rolled back his cuffs a turn, then he took hold of my shoulders and turned me, pressing me to the cool and nubby stone wall.

He covered me with his warm, clothed body, erection jutting into my ass. “How does it feel?”

“Bumpy,” I said. “Cool.”

He slid his hands down my arms, then he stretched them up over my head. With my fingertips, I felt something like a grate. It was one of the window cages.

“Grip it,” he said. “You’ll need to hold on tight for this.”

I curled my fingers through the squares.

“Odin said to prepare you in the ass, but he wanted you to feel the wall, too.”

He reached his hands around my breasts and found my nipples and began to work them. Now and then they’d touch the wall, sending volts through me. Was the whole wall electric? The entire world ?

“Oh, god,” I said.

“Too much?”

“That means it’s just right.” He kissed down my neck, and he ruthlessly touched my nipples to the wall. He forced a knee between my thighs and urged my legs apart. “Spread,” he breathed. “Nice and wide the way we like.”

I complied, stepping apart.

He slapped my ass. “Wider.”

I widened my stance.

“Good girl.”

I shivered as he reached between my legs and slid a lone clever finger between my slick folds from behind, then drew my juices to my asshole and spread them around.

I gasped. It was so much sensation! I squeezed my butt cheeks together.

“Relax, baby.”

“If I relax, I’ll come.”

“Relax and don’t come.”

He let go of my nipple and palmed the globe of my butt cheek, pulling it sideways.

I whimpered as he exposed my asshole. “Keep your nipples on that wall. You will keep them glued to that stone as if your life depends on it.”

“Okay,” I panted.

He drew away from me. I heard the faint metallic crunch of a metal cap being opened.

The olive oil.

I swallowed, waiting in the cool night air.

I felt the cool dribble of oil at the top of my seam. Thor pulled apart my cheeks, and the drip descended down—slowly, ticklingly, tracing a slow path toward my asshole.

Everything in me and my entire universe of awareness was focused on that one slow-moving drip, heading south toward my wildly sensitive pucker. Like nothing else existed except that drip and my asshole.

I whimpered, and Thor just pulled my cheeks wider in the cool air.

“Fuck.” I tried to concentrate on the rough rubbing on my nipples, on the rusty flakiness of the bars I clung onto above me, but I was all about that drip, and I had this irrational fear that I’d explode in an orgasm once it hit my pucker, and once I got that in my head, I couldn’t get it out.

Finally it hit my asshole. I clenched up, breathing through the sensation.

Thor grunted in satisfaction.

My entire body sprung to attention as Thor lit his oily finger upon my asshole.

He began to move it—slowly, deliciously—around and around.

He was only touching the outside of my asshole, sliding the olive oil around and around it in the same basic place—around the block, if you will—but each trip around gave me shivery new pulses of excitement.

Stoking me up higher and higher. With trips around the block like this, who needed exotic vacations?

“Uh,” I said.

“You feel everything here,” he said, coating my pucker with more oil. “So sensitive, like we never even fucked you here.” Slowly he worked it in, pressing in further and further. He pulled it out, added oil, and pressed in, wiggling mercilessly against my entrance.

His finger was as wicked as his tongue, wiggling like it knew that was my orgasm kryptonite, working deeper and deeper.

I felt it so vividly—his knuckle, his finger pad.

I was dying.

Moaning.

“What?”

“I can feel every bit of your finger.”

“That’s right, baby,” he said, drawing it out and plunging it in again. “Take it deeper. Feel how I’m in you. ”

“If I feel any more, I’ll be in the fourth dimension.”

“You can handle it.” He wiggled his finger inside me now. OMG, the wiggle was back!

His lips were saying don’t come , but his wiggling finger had different ideas.

“Good girl.” He pulled his finger out and ran it along my seam, teasing it again.

“Oh my god, no more!”

“Shhh,” he said. “I’d put a gag around that mouth of yours if I didn’t think Odin had plans for it later.”

He pushed back in, deeper and deeper. He got a rhythm going with it, fucking me a little deeper each time, fucking me and curling his finger.

“You’re gonna make me come.”

“Odin would be angry,” he said, finger-fucking me ruthlessly. “He has plans for this asshole.”

I was pushing back on him. I wanted him to fill me more, more, more.

But then he pulled out. “I’d say that’s more than enough.”

I heard him stroll across the alley. To get his jacket?

“You’re not leaving me here like this, are you?”

“You heard Odin as well as I did.”

“You have to hurry!”

“You know how it works, goddess. We’ll come when we see fit. Be ready.”

“Are you kidding me?”

But his footsteps were already receding.