Chaz was right there with him, a hard snap of his hips, and he filled him with cum. His dick stayed hard, so Chaz kept fucking a little longer, his cocksquishingwetly through his own cum and making asuctioningsound in Helio’s ass. Helio clutched the back of the sofa and rode his dick, his erection bumping his belly.
Growing tired, Chaz pulled out and fell onto the sofa, wheezing. Helio twisted around and plopped down next to him, breathing hard. They grinned at each other, then wrapped their hands around the other’s cock and stroked.
“Fuck…” Chaz panted, a huge grin on his face. “I fuckingloveCoke.”
“Me, too.” Helio rolled his palm around the head of Chaz’s cock, making Chaz shiver all over.
“Keep doing that,” he groaned. “It feels fucking good.”
Helio smirked and worked the tip of Chaz’s dick more fervently, his fingertips massaging the piss slit. Chaz twitched and spasmed, his hips jerking. He swore he was ready to blast off again when someone knocked on the door.
“Yeah?” he drawled through his drug haze, waving his free hand at the door. “Come in and join the party.” The door opened, and Chaz grinned as another surge of blood shot straight to his cock. “M’Lord.” God, the man was fuckinghot. His rigid, badass persona made him even hotter.
Lord stood in the open doorway, looking slightly disgusted at the display before him. “The boss wants to speak to you both.”
Chaz rolled his head to the side and smiled lazily at the man as he kept jerking Helio’s cock. “Come on,” Chaz cooed. “Join us. Let your hair down for once.” He snickered because the man was bald. Was hebalddownthere, too? Chaz desperately wanted to know. “Rumor has it you’re diddling the boss. You like dick, we like dick. Let’s dick around together, huh?”
“Get dressed,” Lord ordered.
“Aw, come on,” Chaz coaxed, holding out his hand to the man. “Betcha got an anaconda in your shorts.” He looked down, his grin spreading. “Me, too!” He flashed a flirty smile. “We could take turns drilling Helio with our big dicks. Whadya say?”
Helio leaned over and licked Chaz’s cock, his eyes rolling up at Lord. “I say,fuck yeah.”
Chaz’s heart skipped as Lord walked toward them.Holy fuck, he’s gonna do it!Chaz’s cock swelled in Helio’s hand. As the man approached, Chaz scooted forward and rubbed his palms up Lord’s muscular thighs, his thumbs rolling over the natural bulge in his pants. “Mmm.” He started to open Lord’s fly, thensquawked in pain when the man grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand until it nearly snapped off.
“I said,” Lord growled. “Getdressed.”
Chaz cried out as the man twisted his hand harder, and he fell off the sofa to his knees. “Okay. Okay!”Lord released him, and Chaz fell against the couch, massaging his wrist. “Fuck, dude.”
“Now,” Lord demanded as his hand came to rest on his sidearm.
“All right.All right.”The two men scrambled for their clothes.
Through his coked-out haze, an uneasiness settled in Chaz’s gut. Why would the boss want to speak withthem?
Lazarus stood at the large window of the spacious room, his hands clasped behind his back, silhouetted against the sunset glow bleeding through the glass. He slowly turned as the oak door opened quietly, and Lord entered with the two men—Chaz and Helio—both in their mid-to-late twenties, reeking of cheap cologne, whiskey, andass. Chaz, originally from Chicago, had longish dark hair, greasy at the roots but stylishly cut, that hung partially shielding his face. He wore a black sleeveless shirt revealing tattoos—prison blues mixing with professional ink, gang symbols partially covered by newer designs—evidence of a criminal life etched from wrists to shoulders.
Chaz had a permanent sneer twisting his handsome face, with the left corner of his mouth higher than the right, as if born to mock the world. Lazarus wasn't fond of it but accepted it dueto the respect Chaz showed—eyes down, voice deferential. Helio, with Lazarus for nearly five years, had attached to Chaz like a remora to a shark when the man joined the “family.” They'd become inseparable—drinking, sharing women, using cocaine in hotel suites Lazarus paid for, and likely fucking in the early hours as inhibitions dropped. Lazarus didn't give a shit about any of it as long as they did their job with the cold efficiency he demanded and stayed within the precise boundaries he had drawn.
The polyethylene tarp, stretched over the hardwood floor, crackled beneath their Italian leather shoes as they entered the mahogany-paneled room. Both men looked down, Adam's apples bobbing, with identical flickers of uncertainty.
“What's the plastic for, boss?” Chaz asked, his voice pitched half an octave too high despite his attempt at nonchalance. A bead of sweat traced the sharp edge of his jawline.
“Don't worry,” Lazarus smiled—just a brief twitch at the corners of his thin lips, while his obsidian eyes remained flat and emotionless. “It isn't for you.”
The tension in their shoulders eased by millimeters, though sweat still gleamed along Chaz's hairline. “You wanted to speak to us?” he ventured, his throat bobbing with a dry swallow. “Is there a problem?”
Lazarus leaned against the polished mahogany meeting table, his Italian suit whispering against the wood as he drew his chrome-plated Colt 1911 from its shoulder holster. His manicured fingers moved with practiced precision across the weapon, ejecting the magazine and inspecting the brass-tipped hollow points nestled inside. The air in the room congealed like cooling wax. Chaz's left eyelid developed a microscopic twitch; Helio's throat convulsed in a dry swallow.
“A coupleacquaintancesof mine stopped by,” Lazarus said, his voice smooth as aged bourbon. “Accused me of authorizing adrive-by.” Lazarus raised hooded eyes and snapped the magazine back into place with a metallic click that echoed in the silence. “You boys wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? Because I sure as hell didn’t. Now, you know I don’t go in for that gangland shit, taking potshots at my enemies, then running away like a fucking coward. No.” He turned the gun in his hand. “You see, if I have a beef with a man, I’ll go straight to him and…” He raised the weapon and pointed it at Chaz. “… shoot the fucker myself, in person, like a real man.”
Chaz's pupils contracted to pinpoints. A trickle of sweat slithered from his hairline, leaving a glistening trail down his temple. Helio's fingers twitched against his thigh, tapping an erratic rhythm only he could hear.
Chaz met Lazarus's gaze, his voice steady despite the vein pulsing at his temple. “No, boss, we don’t know anything about it.”
Lying little cunt.“Funny. Because they came to me withnames.”Lazarus rotated the gun barrel in small circles before Chaz’s face. “Guess the names.” Chaz just stared at him, throat bobbing. Lazarus squinted one eye. “Come on, be a sport.Guess.”
Chaz gulped. “Mine and… Helio’s?”
