Page 37 of The Most Wanted (The Kinky Bank Robbers #4)

Rome, Italy

I drained my glass and held it up so that the light from the festive strings of alley lanterns would make the filigree designs shine.

My guys and I were in an old café in an even older part of Rome.

“I love how the designs on these glasses are worn away in spots, like maybe people have been sipping from them through the decades.” I was feeling sentimental, and a little bit tipsy. “Celebrating, commiserating…even these glasses have a rich and beautiful history.”

“Or an overzealous dishwasher,” Zeus said.

I gave him the side eye. Guys .

Our favorite waiter came by. “Another bottle?” He looked from me to Zeus to Odin to Thor and back to me. Another bottle would put us on the one-bottle-each plan, of course.

“It is our honeymoon,” Zeus said, beaming at me.

“Ah, congratulazioni !” The waiter said, though he seemed a bit confused now, wondering, perhaps, why , if it was our honeymoon, did we bring our two friends along every single night that we dined out? What kind of honeymoon was that?

Thor winced.

Odin stiffened.

Zeus could get a little, um… passionate when people assumed the four of us couldn’t possibly be a romantic unit. He cleared his throat like he was going to say something.

“Thank you,” I said, way too brightly, with a quick warning glance at Zeus.

I loved this little café, and we’d been this guy’s favorite customers all month, ordering expensive drinks and leaving crazy good tips.

We’d been well-behaved, too—no hand jobs under the tablecloth.

No outrageous drunkenness. Nobody playing the yeah-that’s-right-all-four-of-us-are-married-WHAT-THE-FUCK-ARE-YOU-STARING-AT? card.

“So here’s the thing…” Zeus began.

“Yes, here’s the thing, we’ll for sure get another,” I interrupted.

“Because we want to have a beautiful night.” I set my glass on the table.

“For sure another bottle!” I gazed at him with a look that hopefully suggested extreme need for another bottle at that very instant . “Another would be amazing !”

“ Bene .” If our waiter thought I was acting like a total freak about more champagne—and let’s be clear; I was—he didn’t show it.

He nodded and headed off.

Odin narrowed his eyes at me. “Should we be jealous of that champagne?”

“Maybe.”

I exchanged glances with Thor, who sat across the table, all innocent blond hotness.

He shifted slightly. I felt his foot touch mine underneath the table.

He hooked his foot around my ankle and guided it up to his lap.

A shiver went through me as his fingers settled onto the parts of my foot not covered by straps.

“I wasn’t acting fucked up. Was I acting fucked up?

” Zeus adjusted the cuffs on the ultrafashionable Italian shirt I’d picked out for him.

It was dark purple with fancy gray detailing under the button and collar, made of whisper-thin fabric that draped over the contours of his muscles like a yummalicious second skin.

His short brown hair had been getting to a grabbable length over the past few weeks, too.

“Was I?” he continued. “No. But there are four people at this table with wedding rings. He should’ve noticed that.”

“Right, that’s the automatic thing he would think,” I said. “If all four of us have rings, we must be married to each other.”

“He’s been waiting on us all month,” Zeus said. “You think he hasn’t seen you sitting on each and every one of our laps? I’m just protecting your honor.”

“I don’t know if telling him I’m married to three guys protects my honor.” Not that I cared. I was with the three hottest, awesomest guys on the planet. I gazed happily up at the spatter of stars in the slash of sky above us.

According to Thor, some of the buildings around here had been constructed in the seventh century.

Which explained the weirdly narrow, horse-sized streets.

This entire neighborhood was a maze of alleys with more alleys off it.

It reminded me of the corn mazes they used to cut out in the cornfields in Wisconsin.

My bank robbers liked a good maze-like neighborhood. Lots of getaway options.

“Me sitting on the other guys’ laps, maybe he sees it as avuncular,” I added.

Thor nearly snorted out his champagne. “Avuncular?”

Odin’s eyes glittered. “Do you , goddess? Is that how you feel?”

“What?”

“As though we’re your three uncles?” Odin said. “You feel married life is making us tame? Like Mr. and Mrs. Santa?”

The waiter came back with our new bottle.

“ Grazi ,” Odin said, followed by something in Italian I didn’t quite catch. The waiter replied in rapid Italian and left, and that was that. As ex-covert operatives, Odin and Zeus were fluent in most languages.

I was fluent in the language of looking like I was following along. I was equally fluent in staring off into space and not really giving a shit.

“Claus,” Zeus said, pouring more champagne.

“What?” Odin shot back. He’d been on edge. Distant. His nightmares were back lately—worse than ever. I felt so helpless. We were a team, but Odin suffered alone at night, not wanting people near him because of them.

I wished he would let me near. I would suffer with him. We all would, if only he would let us.

“It’s Mr. and Mrs. Claus ,” Zeus said again. He was fairly drunk, I noticed. It was actually a wonder he hadn’t pulled the foursome card with the poor waiter. “Mr. and Mr. and Mr. and Mrs. Claus .”

I sighed contentedly, wishing I could keep the snapshot of this in my mind forever. The four of us happy and safe together, vacationing in a fun and glamorous style. Not being chased. It felt too good to last.

As soon as I thought that, I banished it from my mind. I hated that thought. Mentally I whacked it over the head with a replacement thought: We were too badass not to last.

Too badass not to last, motherfuckers!

Thor moved his fingers over my ankle where I had one of our gang tattoos, a cloud and four lightning bolts. The lightning bolts were us. “I can feel it,” he said softly, tracing the edges. It was getting me kind of hot.

“Here’s me,” he said, sliding his finger around—presumably around one of the lightning bolt. “Here’s Zeus. Odin. You.”

I leaned back. “Do it again.”

He gave me an evil smile and again traced the tattoo, or at least pretended. Each of us had our other gang tattoo, You WISH we were dead, motherfuckers, on our arms.

Odin frowned at Zeus. “Claus. Fine.” Odin was from Morocco, and they mostly didn’t celebrate Christmas, but that’s not what his frown was about.

He was in…a certain kind of mood.

Gulp.

Thor slid his fingers around the very sensitive flesh of my foot. “You could kill a man with the points of these heels,” he said.

I was about to complain how much they sucked on the cobblestones, but I stopped myself.

Thor had a fantasy thing going on with my foot right now.

“I could,” I whispered darkly.

Odin’s eyes glittered dangerously. He’d worn a fine black Italian suit tonight, not trying to work against his innate gorgeousness for once. His skin glowed in the candlelight, and his voice was deep. “Did I ask you a question?”

“A question? You asked me a question?” Okay, maybe I was tipsy, too. Maybe we all were…except Odin. As I reviewed the night, it came to me that he hadn’t drank much at all.

And now he’d fallen into that slightly dangerous type of mood that I should really know better than to like. Even Thor looked a little intrigued.

You never knew what Odin was up to.

Thor had his hand around my foot, three fingers shoved between the bottom of my foot and the insole of my shoe now, but Odin held me far more tightly with just that darkly glittering gaze.

He was unpredictable when he got like this, and not always in the best way.

I loved it.

“The question was,” he began, “do you see us as somehow avuncular? Mama and her three papas ?” He spit out the word papa like it was the worst thing ever.

“Is that so horrible?” I teased. “Is mama and three papas so awful?”

Odin tilted his head, keeping me pinned with that gaze, but it had changed. Now the gaze was like, I cannot believe you said that .

“Oh, Isis,” he said simply.

A bolt of excitement shot through me.

Odin flicked two fingers at Thor. “Take her into that alley down there. Bring me back her dress.”

“What?”

He settled his evil gaze on me. “You’ll wait for us there in nothing but your bra and panties, Isis, shivering in the night. You’ll wait there until we’re ready for you. Because we are not your uncles or papas or three Santas in Santa suits.”

I gave him my most stunned look. “What do you have against Santa?”

Odin intensified his stare. “ And her panties, and her bra.”

“Um—” I looked around. This was a business area, not a residential area; it was pretty deserted at this time of night. Still…

“Will you protest again? Should I ask for your shoes, too?” Odin continued.

My mouth dropped open. He was like an unreasonable dictator. This group had two alphas, I suppose you could say—Zeus and Odin. And right now Odin was stepping up.

Again he turned to Thor. “I want her all up on the alley wall. Make her ready for Zeus and me.”

I felt torn between excitement and fear. It seemed risky; that was the fear part. But…an alley.

Sex in a dark, lonely alley.

Rough walls.

Role-play possibilities.

Yes, please.

Zeus poured himself more champagne, almost missing the glass, but not actually missing it.

That’s the thing about lethal, highly trained ex-operatives: Even your drunk moves are awesome.

“Hmm,” Thor said, deciding to be the voice of reason. “Not sure that’s a good idea.”

Odin snorted. “You will strip her, and you will make her feel the wall with her entire body. If you don’t, I will, and it won’t be nice for her.”

I sat up, really wanting to feel that wall in a not-nice way. Odin and I were on a wavelength suddenly that Thor and Zeus were missing.

I was glad.

Odin had been so distant and troubled lately.

“What if it’s dirty and gritty?” I asked hopefully.

Odin raised his eyebrows. “Is that a Mississippi?”

“Mississippi” was my safe word. “No,” I said. Meaning, GOD, NO .

Odin’s eyes sparkled as he found my thigh under the table, as he pushed up my dress. “You will press yourself to that wall and feel it all on your naked body. Do you know why?”

A thrill went through me. “No.”

“Because your body is a thing to be used for our pleasure. Ours to be used in whatever way we see fit.”

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