Page 8 of The Wrong Idea (The Kinky Bank Robbers #2)
Chapter Six
“Ice,” Zeus said, pulling off my blindfold. He stayed in me. We watched each other, and something that felt like honesty passed between us. Sometimes, with my bandits, I felt like I was home, but at the same time, like we were all careening out of control.
Two rips of Velcro later, I was sitting up. Thor threw me a warm, damp washcloth from across the room. I just barely caught it. He threw one to Zeus.
“Hurry up, but don’t look at your tattoo yet,” Odin commanded.
Zeus lifted his green gaze to me. “That was…” He kissed me and drew the warm cloth over my crotch. “Completely and totally sating. One of the most freaking sating experiences I’ve ever had.”
“Sating doesn’t even cover it,” I said.
“Too true.” He cast the cloth aside and knelt by my feet, undoing the belt and the tie. His fingers seemed to tremble as they grazed the top of the piece of plastic wrap Odin had put on my tattoo to protect it.
He undid the belts and scarves. Then he lifted his gaze to me, and my breath caught at the emotion on his face.
What had struck such emotion into him? What was different?
Then I realized: it was the tattoo.
The tattoo meant big things to Zeus, maybe to all three of my guys. Like we were in a gangster marriage. So sweet.
The fluidity with which they moved between tough-guy criminals and lost boys sometimes shocked me, but I loved it.
A lot.
And I loved how emotional they could become.
I slid to the edge and pulled him to me, held his head against my stomach. I loved everything about these guys. I needed them in a way I couldn’t describe.
Odin and Thor sat over at the dining table in their hotel robes. Had they been in the hot tub? How long had Zeus and I been fucking?
I ruffled Zeus’s hair, then I grabbed my own robe off the couch.
As a gang, we were heavy into wearing the hotel robes.
In fact, the plushness of hotel robes seemed to be one of the criteria by which they evaluated fancy hotels.
My bank robbers had a kind of overheated lifestyle.
They pulled big jobs and then blew all the money on outrageously priced suites in outrageously priced hotels—and fabulous room service meals, too.
No complaints here!
Zeus disappeared across the suite into one of the bathrooms that this hotel called a spa. Yes, it was that kind of place.
I stood up, feeling a bit wobbly. “I think I need a health shake or something,” I said.
Thor strolled over with a glass of champagne. “Try some 1990 Perrier Jouet.”
I grinned. “I guess it’ll have to do.” I took the glass from Thor and let him guide me to the table, which was laid out with fruits and cheeses, our favorite evening meal.
Odin stood eyeing me. “I am a genius, you know.” He swigged a glass of scotch.
“We know,” Thor said.
“A tattoo under those conditions?” he said. “Nearly impossible.”
“I was doing great!” I protested.
“Debatable,” Odin said, raising an eyebrow. “To imagine that a girl who so longs for the feel of a man’s firm hand on her ass could be such a baby.”
“Stop it!” I laughed. “God!”
“Stop teasing Isis.” Thor draped himself over a chair, one arm over the back, one leg over the armrest. He reached over and grabbed the grapes and held them above his upturned face, feeding himself, looking every inch the decadent god.
“This is excellent gouda,” Odin said. “I believe even the cheesehead farmer would agree.” His tone was joking, but something was bugging him, I could tell.
I grabbed a slice and tried it. The gouda sparked with flavor. “Pretty good. Almost as good as Sunny Sisters sheep gouda. But not quite.”
Odin smiled. He liked that. He was all about the boasting.
I gazed out the window, scanning the beach. Way down to the left you could see the Santa Monica pier, and beyond it, an impossibly blue ocean under a fiery sunset. It made me dizzy that this view was something I was seeing in real life and not a postcard.
I wished my sisters could see it—none of us had ever been out of Wisconsin before.
And I couldn’t go home again.
It was still hard to get used to.
I said a silent prayer that they understood I was still alive.
Surely they suspected it would be me purchasing the twenty-thousand-dollar comforters our sheep farm sold—the Paris Hilton comforter, we called it.
It was a joke product my sisters and I put on the website for our sheep farm, like a lottery ticket.
We’d dreamed of Paris Hilton googling herself one day, finding it, and buying one for herself and her dog.
She never did, but buying those wildly overpriced quilts for people was really coming in handy as a way to funnel them money.
Once upon a time I'd included a note with my purchase of one of the comforters; the note made reference to an inside joke my sisters and I had. It was a way of tipping them off that I was still okay, but that was before I’d faked my death.
I gazed out at the palms and the sea. Everything was wild and beautiful in this life. Intoxicating.
And dangerous.
Odin took one look at me and knew. He always did. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Is it the First West job?” he asked, ignoring my lie. “Don’t worry about the First West. It’s going to be a cakewalk.”
“It’s a bank, not a tree fort,” I said.
“The First West is the loosest bank we’ve ever seen,” Odin said. “We could do it in our sleep even if I didn’t hack their security system.” We planned to hit it in two days. I would be the driver.
“Yes, I’m nervous for the First West, but it’s not that. Maybe I’m just…I don’t know.”
“Do I have to get it out of you?” Odin’s eyes glittered. “I can be persuasive.”
“It’s just that, things are good. Does that ever spook you? And what were you saying about running out of money?”
“Hey,” Zeus said, coming over, tightening his robe belt. “This is a good day. We’re here now. Together. With nothing to want for.” He slapped the table. “Over here, you guys. Feet. Up.”
He put his left foot up on the table, tilted to the side, so you could see his tattoo.
Odin and Thor went up next to him and put their feet up, and then I put mine on the very end, making a row of feet—my small and lovely foot and three large man-feet that could definitely use some pedicure action, but we had matching tattoos.
I shivered as I examined my gorgeous tattoo under the protective cellophane wrap. The top of the tattoo was a cloud with big, soulful eyes, brows raised up in fury, lips blowing wind, with four slim, perfectly matched, badass lightning bolts shooting fiercely downward.
We were the four lightning bolts, striking out.
It touched me in a way I could never explain, seeing all our tattooed ankles together. Maybe we were a little bit doomed, but wasn’t everybody? And anyway, we were together. Forever.
“It’s the most beautiful thing ever,” I said.
“ You’re the most beautiful thing ever,” Thor said.
“Group hug!” I joked, acting all sarcastic to hide that I wanted to cry.
“I have a better idea. Let’s go out and celebrate! We’re in LA, baby!” Zeus drained his scotch and threw the glass at the fireplace mantel, where it shattered.
I jumped.
“Jesus, Zeus, that’s Waterford crystal.” Thor tended to know things like that.
“They’ll put it on our bill,” he said. “Throw your glasses.”
“We are running out of money,” Odin said.
“We won’t be the day after tomorrow,” Zeus said. “In fact, I’m getting bored with these small potatoes banks. I say we knock off something big next month. I say we start thinking about the Prime Royale.”
“The Prime Royale First Bank of LA?” Odin barked. “Are you crazy?”
“Then they’ll really wish we were dead. Actually, that would be a good motto for us.” Zeus put up his hands, as if to frame the motto in the air. “You WISH we were dead. Like, you wish we were dead but we’re not, motherfuckers. Thor, what is that in Latin?”
“ E mords… something,” Thor said.
Zeus frowned. “Better if it’s in English.” He turned to Odin. “We should add that to the tattoo, on a scroll above the cloud.”
“On a banner that angels hold,” Odin said.
“Yeah, angels hold it,” Zeus said. “You WISH we were dead, motherfuckers. That’s what it should say.”
“Hold the presses.” I put up a hand. “Did you just suggest we add another massively intricate element to that tattoo? Did I just hear you say that?”
“Or maybe it could be a whole new tattoo,” Thor said.
Zeus glowered at me. “You enjoyed getting a tattoo, Ice.”
“Nobody robs the Prime Royale bank of LA,” Odin said.
“That’s exactly why we should rob it.” Zeus wiped a hand over his mouth. “But first we have to celebrate. I say we hit Guvvey’s. She barely met anyone last time. This time we’ll officially introduce her to the crème de la crème.”
I smiled. The criminal crème de la crème!