The Wrong Turn

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The Wrong Turn Page 1

by Annika Martin




  Taken Hostage by Hunky Bank Robbers: Book #2

  When Isis consented to letting three hot, dominating bank robbers use her body for their every sexual whim and pleasure, she was thinking about the forbidden thrills. The dangerous fun. What she never expected was the deep bond the four of them might form.

  But when the group plans a daring heist during a night of kinky sex, she discovers how strong their emotions can grow—and how high the stakes can climb. Do the outlaws have what it takes to evade their enemies…and give each other what they truly need?

  The Wrong Turn

  Copyright ©2012 by Annika Martin

  Smashwords edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this ebook only, or sharing as permitted by your ebook vendor.

  Cover art: Sweet N’ Spicy Designs

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or business establishments, organizations or locales is completely coincidental. All the characters in this book are adults.

  The Wrong Turn

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Eep!” I cried.

  From across the coffee table, Zeus gave me one of his gorgeous, green-eyed glowers that always made my insides melt. “Just lie there and take it, and don’t be a baby.” He tightened his grip on my leg, which was propped up on the smooth tabletop. “If you would stop squirming, it would be over sooner.”

  Thor looked at me sadly and slid closer to me on the couch. “It is one of the most sensitive parts of the body,” he said. “But if we knocked you out, it wouldn’t mean as much.”

  I squinched my eyes shut. I didn’t want to say Mississippi, the word that would make them stop anything. I was supposed to be all badass now.

  “Eep,” I whispered, as the sting of the tattoo needle intensified.

  Zeus snorted. “If you say eep one more time, I swear, Odin is going to start all over again. On the other side.”

  I plunked my head back on the couch and stared at the chandelier on the hotel room ceiling as Odin’s implement vibrated its painful little path along the tender inside of my ankle. I tensed. The needling stopped.

  “I’m gonna fuck it up if you don’t start handling this.” I lifted my head to see Odin rise up straight next to Zeus, scowling up at me through his black wavy hair. His glasses and the bruising around his eye from a recent scuffle almost cancelled out his pretty boy looks—almost. “You usually like a little pain, Isis.”

  True.

  I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I felt proud to be getting the tattoo of our bank robbing gang—an angry cloud with four fierce lightning bolts. Before I joined up, the design featured only three lightning bolts. The last bolt was me.

  Odin dabbed at my ankle.

  “Here’s the thing,” I said. “What if the cops caught me and recognized the tattoo, and I cracked and led them to you?”

  Zeus gazed at me with extra smoldering intensity. His nut-brown hair was still wet from a recent shower. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch him. “The cops’ll catch us when we’re dead,” he growled.

  My mouth went dry; I so loved when he talked tough like that. Still, I worried. “What if I’m the weak link?”

  “The tattoo isn’t about that. It’s about family,” Zeus said. “It says we belong together.”

  “Seriously, though, what if I fuck it up?”

  Zeus stood and came around the coffee table and sat down next to me on the couch. “Listen to me, Isis.” He set his hands gently on the sides of my neck, fingers lightly touching my ears. “We’re a family now. You know what family means? We get to fuck things up and be fucked up, and we still belong together.”

  It was such a sweet thing to say. I felt my eyes misting up.

  “I know you can never go home again,” he continued, “and part of that is our fault.” I started to protest—I’d made my own choices. He waved it off. “I know you miss your sisters. But we’re family now, Ice. We’re here for you. But if you don’t want the tattoo, you don’t have to get it.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want the tattoo. I want it. And you know I’m 100% into this.”

  Thor smoothed a bit of hair from my forehead. Even my hair was different in this life—short and platinum blonde instead of long and red. “Good, because we’re 100% into you.” He smiled devilishly, and I could tell he’d thought of something dirty. “Actually, we’re 300% into you.”

  I grinned. “I don’t know that we’ve gotten quite that far yet in our relationship.”

  Thor crossed his lanky legs. “The night’s still young, baby.”

  Shivers ran over my skin.

  “And, also, I think you’re 300% into our gang rules,” Thor whispered.

  My belly tightened. Yes, I liked the dirty rules.

  Thor said, “Actually, I think you joined entirely for the rules. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe the rules state that we can use your body in whatever way we see fit to satisfy our each and every carnal desire. Which would include tattooing you however and wherever we please.”

  “Correction,” I said. “I didn’t join for the rules that let you use my body to satisfy your carnal desires. I joined after being held at gunpoint. I stayed for the dirty rules.” And, of course, the thrill of breaking them.

  I was taken hostage in their bank robbery last month—a takeover robbery, as they say in the biz. Ironically, it was only after I’d become their hostage that I’d found real happiness and freedom.

  “Isis, a tattoo means more than words,” Odin said. “And it says we’ll never leave you behind, no matter what.”

  “And you’ll never leave us behind,” Thor added softly.

  There it was.

  “I wouldn’t leave you like that,” I said quickly. Like her.

  “We know,” Thor said.

  Did they? My powerful, roguish criminals were also a little bit vulnerable, I realized. Letting me join was their own risky act—one as dangerous as the most violent bank takeover. They’d committed to a woman before. And were broken when she killed herself.

  “Let’s do this,” I said. “Together forever.”

  Zeus pulled me to him with a fierceness that surprised me, and he kissed my forehead.

  I said it again: “Let’s do it.”

  “Good,” Odin said. “Because God Pack membership is not the stuff of a fucking-g pinky shake.”

  I smiled. I loved his accent, the way he pronounced words like fucking with an extra syllable: fucking-ga tattoo.

  I looked over his shoulder at the vase of tulips on the side table, flowers Zeus would’ve ripped up not too long ago out of grief and angst, and I felt this surge of affection for my bandits. We’d come through a lot in a short time. And we had a code. Sure, our code was all about being a gang of criminals living dissipated, sex-crazed lives in luxury hotels, but it was our code. We were our own goddamn kind of family, and I was proud as hell of it. And I wanted the tattoo.

  “Naturally, it’s the most intricate tattoo known to humankind,” I said. “I think this thing has a higher lever of detail than a dollar bill. You guys only got one angry lightning bolt added today. I have to get the whole crazy thing.”

  “It’s not angry, it’s wrathful,” Odin corrected. “Wrath is more constructive than anger.”

  “And cooler,” Thor added. “Wrath is cooler than anger.”

  “Do it.” I shoved my foot back
across the coffee table at Odin. He watched me, toying with the tattoo implement. His fingernails looked pale against his dark skin. He’d once told me he’d gotten his dark coloring from ancestors in the Berber tribe of North Africa. He was proud of his heritage, but he hated being so gorgeous—it detracted from his image as a dangerous criminal. The things he did to counteract his looks—the two-day beard, the messy hair, it just intensified his handsomeness. I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

  He turned the thing back on.

  I winced.

  He turned it off. “I haven’t even touched you yet. I cannot work like this.” Odin set the thing down, removed his glasses, and stood, stretching his fingers. “Isis, I recall you becoming quite wantonly aroused by certain kinds of pain. I recall a certain afternoon—”

  “That’s different,” I interrupted.

  Odin smiled his gorgeous smile. “Our innocent sheep farmer, writhing in ecstasy under a man’s firm hand coming down over her soft fleshy buttocks. I recall a certain sheep farmer begging for more—”

  “Stop…” I felt my face heat. I looked over at Thor, who suppressed a grin, but I saw it in his blue eyes. His gaze traveled down to my neck, my chest. My chest would be totally pink under my shirt. He loved to tease me that I was a sex maniac, a line of teasing that always got me embarrassed. “Excuse me if it’s different when it’s, you know, exciting and sexy instead of just…abject torture.”

  “That’s context, nothing more.” Odin flung a hand at me. “Strip her clothes off, and tie her to the coffee table.”

  My pussy tingled. “Excuse me?” I said. “While I’m getting my tattoo?”

  “Do it,” Odin said, wiping his tattoo gun. “You need a new context.”

  “Oh, gladly.” Thor let loose his grin.

  My blood raced with excitement.

  “You want her on her back or stomach?”

  “Back,” Odin said. “Strip her and strap her now. While I still feel inspired.”

  The very command made my legs feel like jelly. The thrill of it. This tattoo operation was starting to look up.

  Zeus stood over me, a glint of danger in his green eyes. “Get up.”

  I met his gaze. The day they robbed the bank they wore zombie masks, but even then, his eyes mesmerized me.

  “Will you disobey, Isis?” Zeus asked. “Is that what I’m seeing?”

  Slowly I stood, feeling naked already, unsure what they were planning. What could possibly distract me from poking needles? But I loved following their commands. Almost as much as I loved resisting them.

  Zeus stood almost a foot taller than me, all brutish beauty; in the world of gods, Zeus is an alpha. Within the gang, he was definitely the leader. He touched a finger to the bottom of my chin. “Strip her, Thor.”

  Bright shivers cascaded over me as Thor’s arms slipped around me from behind, unbuckling my belt. The way Zeus watched my eyes—you could barely call it watching. It was more like he was using his hypnotic gaze to hold me and interrogate me and fuck me all at once. It was totally alpha. And insanely sexy.

  Thor fumbled with the fly of my shorts more than he had to, then he slid his fingers down between my legs, intensifying the heat there. I closed my eyes, feverish with excitement, as he pressed into me from behind. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe that these sexy, fabulous bandits who took their names from gods wanted me and me alone.

  “Keep looking at me,” Zeus grated.

  I opened my eyes to him.

  Zeus said, “We will distract you so thoroughly, Isis, that tattoo needle will feel like a kiss.”

  Thor nuzzled my ear. “You might even get into it.” He pushed my shorts down over my hips as Zeus watched.

  Warmth pulsed through my core like glowing embers.

  “Isis loves a good distraction, don’t you, Isis?” Odin said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “Ignore him,” Zeus growled.

  “I think we’ll need all the belts and scarves in this whole place, though.” Thor said.

  “I don’t really see how this is going to work—”

  My protest dissolved as Zeus grabbed the collar of my tank top and ripped it right down the middle.

  I gasped.

  “You don’t need to see,” he said. “Probably best you don’t.”

  Gulp. I leaned back against Thor, blood racing. I trusted my bandits—anything could happen with us, and I knew I’d always be cherished. Safe. At least when we were alone together, inside our hotel rooms, we were safe. Out there robbing banks…I still got scared, even though Zeus and Odin were highly trained military operatives.

  You’re not immortal. You’re not magic, I’d said to Zeus once, and he’d assured me they were close—beyond Navy SEALS, beyond elite, beyond secret.

  Zeus gently caressed the tender flesh of my breasts with his rough fingers. “I love it when you don’t wear a bra,” he said. He kissed my fingers. “You’re learning.”

  “I’m down to my favorite one. No way will I let you ruin that.”

  Thor said, “We’re rich bank robbers. We’ll buy another.”

  “Actually, we’re running out of money,” Odin said from his stool across the coffee table. “Now hurry the fuck up.”

  I stepped out of my shorts and panties as Thor walked off—to collect every belt and tie in the place, apparently.

  I stood there, fully naked under Zeus’s hungry bear gaze, which cranked up my quivery state like crazy. Zeus made you vulnerable with that gaze.

  And lord, how I wanted him.

  Finally, he pointed to the coffee table with his beefy hand. He kept his nails short and perfectly smooth, and wore a simple man-ring, something Celtic. He’d always seemed quite Irish to me—Irish and feral. In a low voice he said, “Lay down.”

  Shivers came over me.

  I sat down and lay back upon the coffee table like an offering on an altar. The surface felt cool and hard under my bare ass. I squeezed my legs together.

  Everything about my hot bank robbers turned me on—their naughty orders, their brutish attentions. It was like I’d stumbled into a Disneyworld of dangerous sex fantasies. And this was a whole new ride—the tattoo distraction ride. One of the scary ones. A dark tunnel one.

  Odin bent over me, placing a hand next to my hip, amber eyes glinting. “We’ll get this thing done now.”

  He kissed my belly, and then my belly button. I moaned and shoved my hands into his thick, moppy hair.

  “Maybe we can forget about the tattoo situation altogether,” I said. “Maybe we can go with temporary tattoos.”

  “No chance.” He kissed downward along my neatly trimmed pubes. “Oh, this won’t do.” He grabbed my knees, pulled them apart, and kissed my heated sex. I sucked in a breath. I wondered vaguely if this tattoo bit could maybe stretch into a multi-day process.

  “Slide down. Knees over the edge.”

  Heat bloomed between my legs as I slid down.

  I felt Odin position my right foot on something—the footstool, I guessed. This raised my knee slightly above the table. “Give me your belt, Zeus.”

  Zeus threw Odin his belt and Odin strapped my right calf flush to the table leg. “Your tattoo will be fucking-g exquisite,” Odin said. “If you would only hold still. We’re nearly halfway done.”

  Thor returned with a bunch of belts and scarves. Zeus used a black sequined scarf to tie my left calf securely to the other table leg, so that my legs were splayed apart. Just lying there like that, one knee up, exposed and waiting, cool air on my pussy, was exhilarating. I felt like I was on top of a ski jump or a rollercoaster in the moment before the plunge—the delicious point where you just have to give yourself over to a powerful force you can’t control.

  Zeus sat next to me on the coffee table. I said a silent thanks to the hotel gods that this coffee table was metal—we’d accidentally broken a bit of hotel furniture over the past weeks we’d been together, and it cost a lot of money to replace that stuff, so I’d l
earned.

  Zeus rested his heavy hand on my belly. “How to distract our squirmy goddess…” He slid his fingers down to my crotch, touched me there lightly. I lifted my hips into his finger, into the exquisiteness of his touch. “God, you’re wet,” he said.

  “I’ve been deprived lately,” I said, as Odin tied my knee to the corner of the table.

  “I’ve been deprived, too, it just so happens.” He dragged his finger lazily through my cleft. “And I haven’t even begun to sate myself on you.”

  I shivered with pleasure as he gazed down at me, touched me again, lightly, lazily, teasing me.

  “Please sate,” I gasped. “Sate more.”

  Zeus had the fullest, most expressive lips I’d ever seen, beautiful when he smiled, and thuggish when he frowned. Now he was twisting them, a dark playful look of his.

  “Maybe it’s sating me to drive you half mad,” he whispered, as he drew his finger further up my sex and over my pubic bone, up, up, up to my belly, leaving my clit behind and yearning in the cool air. His finger continued over my belly button.

  Noooo!

  I stilled his hands, pushed them back downward. “Reverse course,” I gasped, pushing at his arm. “You must reverse course.”

  “Oh, dear,” he said. “Hand me two scarves and the handcuffs, Thor.”

  Gulp.

  “Apparently tying you won’t be enough. Do you know what Thor has to go and get now?” He glanced at Thor significantly.

  “I have an idea,” I said, thinking more restraints. Maybe rough-textured ropes.

  “I doubt that,” Thor said, as he left the room.

  Zeus ran a belt under the coffee table and buckled it around my middle, right at my belly button. He crisscrossed a long scarf over my chest, like an X between my breasts. Then he took out the cushy cuffs, all plush inside and Velcro on the outsides, and strong as hell.

  “Hands behind your head. Fingers knit. Now.” Zeus spoke like a commander. His military background was as useful during sexual escapades as it was in robberies.

  “I can’t believe you’re tying my hands, too. For a tattoo?”

 

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