Page 17 of The Wrong Idea (The Kinky Bank Robbers #2)

Chapter Thirteen

Thor came up behind me. “No way.”

I pulled a brown and black plaid one off the rack. “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 perfect. I’m begging you, Thor. Put it on.”

He came close, brushed his lips over mine. “What will you do for me?”

“Anything. I will do anything if you wear this.”

His eyes darkened. “You already do anything.”

“Right now. If you put it on, I’ll forget they told us not to fuck around.”

“I shouldn’t make this deal. 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 really needed this kilt thing to happen. We were about to walk into a dangerous situation, and if I ended up shot or in jail, I wanted to have my bank robbers in kilts just once.

Also, to fuck Thor while he wore a kilt.

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’ve 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 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 of 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 hid 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 kilt 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?”