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IT WAS JUST THE THREE OF THEM. Alone. An arctic silence stole the wisps of frosty breath from her lips, and beyond the tinted windows, snow fell softly.

Hesitantly, gnawing on her bottom lip, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she snuck a glance at him.

Vegas. What a fucking fake name.

A hazy red light bathed him in serenity and sin, caressing every trace of dark skin, cheekbones and knuckles stripped to the sensual shade. There was something solid about him, as still and silent as the icy weather outside, and as the faint luminescence drenched his body, the idea of what could thaw him stirred her thoughts to dangerous places.

A shiver wracked down her spine.

"Cold?"

Smoothly, licking her lips, twisting a strand of hair around her finger, she peered over at him.

Cadillac. What another fucking fake name.

The light flickered, casting him into a gorgeous green glow, and it swept across his curious expression, dancing like shards of sea glass in his dark eyes. There was something devilishly handsome about him, rugged and roguish, calloused hands and a five o'clock shadow, dressed into a black Carhartt and a red beanie.

Fuck, she would admit it in a court of law. She had a fucking weakness for men who worked with their hands.

So when they were caught, that would be how she pleaded guilty—an inability to resist men like them. How tragic.

A hum vibrated her thighs. Slowly, Vegas cruised through the intersection, taking them further into Astoria. "No." She quirked a brow. "I'm not cold."

"Hmmm." Cadillac hummed, those dark eyes falling to her bare legs. Bemusement tilted his lips into a slight grin. "Whatever you say."

Fuck. If they would do anything she said...

"Sorry." Vegas reached over her to flick at a few buttons. Lazily, she watched the ink ripple across his skin, wrapping around his forearm and disappearing under a rolled-up sweater sleeve. "Here."

A warm gust of air fanned across her cheeks, and a soft peel of laughter and bells chased the silent gasp of surprise.

Cadillac snickered, shook his head, cast him a look of exasperation. "Really?"

When Vegas shrugged carelessly, a giggle threatened to break free. The song split into faint, fluttering lyrics, and a strangely surreal sensation seized her. This was every girl's winter fantasy—caged between two... big men in the front seat of a pick-up truck, skidding along snowy roads, trapped together, and listening to... Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.

Her lips twitched in amusement.

"He's making a list, he's checking it twice," The Pointer Sisters cover filled the silence in the car. "He's gonna find out who's naughty or nice."

"We should make a list," she suggested softly, fingers tapping against her knee with the beat. That blanket of warmth coaxed a playful smile to her lips. They couldn't do anything useful tonight, but they were alone and warm. Together. "Of what we... need."

"Yeah, and check it twice," Vegas muttered, sparing her a dark look. A warning flashed in his eyes. "If we forget anything, we're fucked."

Fucked.

Yeah, she had a good idea of what Vegas needed.

"Mhmm. Let me just... check... for..." she trailed off, flirting with a professional tone. Vegas turned back to the road, but when they came to another red light, rolling to a slow stop, his gaze returned—twice as hot. "Oh, there it is. Vegas. Naughty."

That bastard gave her nothing. Only a slight curve of his lips. "Yeah? I'll bet you're on that list too."

Oh. Okay.

Her brows rose, but she masked the surprise quickly, feigning innocence with fluttering lashes and a sugary sweet smile. "Vegas, are you calling me naughty?"

"Well, you're sure as hell not nice."

Well, he didn't know her very well.

"I don't know," she drawled with a shrug, letting her fingers tease the dark denim that kept brushing against her bare thighs with every fucking bump in the road. "If I get what I want... I can be really nice."

"And what do you want?"

Didn't they all want the same thing? Why else would they be here?

No. Vegas was trying to pick her apart, and something about that was fucking critical, compellingly tempting in all the wrong ways. Maybe he knew; maybe he could see right through her. Beyond a veil of seduction and stone-cold apathy, Vegas was... with her.

This could make things interesting.

In that moment, she wanted a lot of things, but blind temptation could potentially give her what she needed. Lust was a gateway to trust.

"I don't know." A quiet confession lifted her voice to a timid whisper. Fucking perfect. "Both of you."

"Yeah," he snickered, "and that's something a nice girl would say?"

"Hey, don't slut-shame, man." Cadillac chuckled, swatting at the pom-pom on her hat teasingly. "She can be a freak in the sheets and still be nice."

Her chin rose. "See. I'm nice."

"Sure, you're nice," Vegas said, dragging out the word sarcastically as he shot her a dry look. "You just have a kinky little fantasy."

It wasn't little, and it wasn't just kinky, and it didn't have to be just a fantasy. No, she really did want both of them—not just in her bed. They were smart, strong, and solid, and if she could...

"You didn't deny it, you know," she said, challenging him with a sly smile. "You didn't deny it."

Vegas quirked a brow. "What?"

"That you're naughty."

"Mmmm. I think everyone is a little bad, Star."

Everyone is a little bad.

Those words burned in the icy air, leaving nothing but sparks and wisps of cold breath. Maybe everyone was a little bad, but they were worse. They were so much worse.

In the sudden silence, Vegas shifted, cursing under his breath. "Fuck this... fuck this song," he finally huffed, gesturing to the radio. "Go to track 8."

"No. Fucking. Way." Cadillac deadpanned, eyes widening with blatant amusement. "This is a CD? You have a fucking Christmas CD in your truck?"

"Fuck off, man."

"Is there a particular Christmas song that you enjoy more than others?" she teased, skipping the next several songs until the number eight blinked at them.

A faint trickle of bells tipped off a scratchy track, and then a beat kicked in through the speakers, smooth and low and so '80s hip hop that it almost hurt.

"It was December 24th on Hollis Ave in the dark—"

His knuckles rap against the steering wheel. It was subtle, but so fucking clear. Queens. Vegas held the pride of a man from Queens, who enjoyed Run fucking D.M.C.

"—when I see a man chillin' with his dog in the park."

"Classic," Cadillac snickered. "I can't believ—"

"Okay." She drew a sharp breath, cutting him off before they could fight about a fucking Run-D.M.C song. This was her chance, and if they derailed it...

Vegas glanced down at her cautiously. "What?"

"A list," she reminded him, tugging the hem of her dress down as she exhaled shakily. Her gaze strayed to the snowy streets. If they couldn't do anything, she could get information. "We need to talk about this. What do we need?"

Cadillac shook his head, but tore his phone out of his pocket with a ragged sigh. "Well, how the hell did they get it up there in the first place? I mean, if we're—"

"We need a boom lift," Vegas interrupted sharply. There was no room for argument or discussion; it just stood for a solid moment between them. His jaw clenched. "An articulating boom lift. It will reach up to 300 feet."

She arched a brow. "300 feet."

"Tree is 77 feet." A shrug. "Someone needs to be up there to take the star down. It's secured tight." Vegas shook his head, laughing dryly. "If the plan is really to black out all of Rockefeller, we'll need light to get it off."

Fuck. That professional edge in his voice sent her spiraling. A wave of that heavy, wet heat attacked, flushing her cheeks. Frantically, she nodded. "Yeah. Flares. Nothing too crazy, right?"

Vegas mulled over that option for a long moment, still digging them deeper and deeper into Queens. Where the hell were they going? "That should work, but I was thinking that we'd need a... blowtorch?"

"A fucking blowtorch?" she rasped, brows furrowing. "What the fuck do you need a blowtorch for?"

"If we want one person to get the star down quickly, then we need something like that."

Mentally, she noted it. Yeah. If she could get a front seat to that show, she'd love it. Vegas seemed capable and confident with the idea of working a fucking blowtorch 80 feet in the air.

Hot.

"You won't... light the tree on fire?"

One side of his lips quirked up. "I'll be careful. Just for you."

"Hey, I'm all for watching the Rockefeller Tree go up in flames."

"Wait, do you see this?" Cadillac suddenly asked in a tight voice, jabbing a finger at his phone. When she twisted in her seat, he shoved it at her. "They're practically asking for us to steal it."

Her brows furrowed.

SWAROVSKI CRYSTAL STAR ADORNS TOP OF ROCKEFELLER CENTER CHRISTMAS TREE

Published at 7:04 am on November 13, 2019

A nervous flutter passed through her chest, but she watched the small news video without fucking blinking. That video. Every fucking fragment of B-roll was crucial—from the moment the crane lifted the star from the support on the ground to the moment the construction workers at the top level of scaffolding secured it.

They weren't asking for them to steal it; they were showing them how to steal it.

With a muffled curse, Cadillac scrubbed back. "See that?"

"Yeah." She squinted at the shot of... the crane—a white arm with red lettering. BAY CRANE. "Bay Crane. That's what they use to raise the star. That's our... in."

Vegas snorted. "Bay Crane. Equipment rental in Long Island City. Yeah, I know the place."

Surprise swung her gaze back up to him. "You do?"

"Yeah. We're gonna want a Liebherr LTM 1350 or a Liebherr LTM 1300.6/2. The load capacity is beyond what we'll need for a 900 pound star. No assembly. Rotating booms." Vegas smiled innocently. "Add it to the list. That's what we need, babe."

Fuuuuuck. Her heart stuttered. "Why do you know so much about it?"

"I was part of the construction crew," he said with a shrug. "I helped secure the star back in November."

She fucking knew it. A construction worker. Add him to the fucking list. Vegas was... important to this, and she needed him. "Okay, so you... you can..."

"I can get us in, and I can take it down."

"Take it down?" Her head spun. "Get us in?"

"Well, we can't rent a crane," Cadillac muttered, draping an arm around her shoulders lazily as he locked his phone and slid it into his jeans. "I mean, we could. Under fake names, but they'd know our faces, I guess."

Okay. That made... sense.

"Right," Vegas clipped out, taking a sharp turn with that infuriatingly blank expression. "But I can get us in. We can see if anyone is renting it that... week. That... night."

"And then what?" Exasperation clogged her throat. Something in her chest felt tight, too tight, like it was pinching her heart with a fierce warning. This was happening. "Ask if we can borrow it for a minute?"

Cadillac snickered, looping a strand of her hair around his finger and tugging playfully. "Twenty minutes. Blue said it will only take twenty minutes."

Blue told them it would only take twenty minutes. Blue told them... a lot.

"Oh, come on, babe." Vegas nudged her teasingly. They slowed to another stop, caught in the glow of another fucking red light, and as his dark eyes claimed hers, the air shifted to something suggestive. "No, we don't ask to borrow it. We're better than that."

A slight grin captured his lips, and everything inside of her softened. Everyone was a little bad.

"We steal it," she said softly. "We steal a fucking crane."

Silence stole the words.

Red flickered to green, and as the light danced across his smug expression, Vegas slowly eased off of the breaks. They skated through the intersection, peeling away from the dwindling traffic to reach the edge of the road.

A hand slid from the steering wheel to settle on her bare knee. "Mmm. It's already two. Bay Crane doesn't open until seven."

Her breathing hitched. "Yeah. Okay."

"We can wait it out. Head there in the morning."

Wait it out? Together?

A flurry of snow cascaded down around them, light and soft, almost as deceptively innocent as that casual offer. Vegas tore the keys from the ignition, and suddenly, they were encased in silence. Her bottom lip snuck between her teeth.

"What do you think?"

And fuck, the only thing sexier than him asking for her fucking opinion was the sensual promise tracing those words to her bloodstream. That was...

Heat unfurled in the pit of her stomach. "Yeah. We can wait it out."

Vegas nodded curtly, throwing the door open with a secretive smile. Everything unspoken lingered in that soft motion, in the way his thumb caressed her knee before it lifted, leaving her cold and cautious. "Do you have any wild plans for the night?"

The only wild plans she had for the night included... them.

"Maybe," she admitted quietly.

"Are you still cold?" Cadillac reeled her around with the coy comment, but he was already tossing his door open and jumping down to the icy sidewalk to offer her a hand. A smile toyed at his lips. "Because I think we could warm you up."

Oh.

These motherfuckers had no idea what she'd meant. No fucking idea. This wasn't about sex. Men really did have one-track fucking minds. Carefully, fighting off a grin, she dropped down and into his arms. "Really?"

"Mmm."

Behind them, boots crunched across gravel. Wind whistled through her hair. The door closed with a harsh slam. This.

"What about his rules?" she breathed, testing the waters, testing their... loyalty. This could be so easy. All it took was sex.

A chuckle fluttered with the faint snowfall, and when she whirled around to find Vegas leaning against the truck, her heart skipped. "Rules? Oh, babe, don't tell me now that you follow the rules."

Vegas knew.

Panic clenched around her heart, but she drew a sharp breath, forcing nonchalance. "I don't kn—"

"I thought you wanted both of us."

Her shoulders relaxed. Maybe he didn't. "Blue said don't fuck each other."

"Isn't that just because you two have fucked?"

Fuck. Her lips parted with a silent gasp. How much did Vegas really know about her? About Blue? About... them?

"Besides, I thought we went over this," he drawled carefully. "We're not on the nice list, Star."

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**SOOOO. It IS after Christmas, but I wanted to keep rolling with this. I have a lot pre-written, so hopefully, I can post the rest of this story within the next week or so for anyone who still wants to read something holiday themed 😂😂