After that, it’s all ass, tits, and pussy. Sucking, fucking, and everything in between. I lost track how many times I shot my load before I finally passed out. Best homecoming ever.
Chapter Three
DEUCE
I wake up just the way I like it after a night of partying hard—alone and satisfied, although I could do without my mouth feeling like sandpaper. I tilt my head, but I can’t get my bearings. My brain immediately flips to my home for the last five years, but my prison bunk wasn’t lined in pink velvet. It also didn’t offer females who drained every ounce of jizz outta my dick.
I shift my gaze and startle. What the fuck is Speed doing laid out on the other couch? Shit, I know things got a little wild last night, but . . .
“Okay, you dirtbags, rise and shine,” Shady’s booming voice echoes through my alcohol-soaked brain.
I crane my neck toward the door, and the bastard is standing there looking rested and almost cheerful. Fuck him.
“I conned the boss into letting you guys sack out in here last night, but now you gotta move your asses. The cleaning staff is here.”
I slowly roll to a seated position as Shady kicks the couch Speed’s sprawled out on. I chuckle to myself ‘cause he’s stillwearing that dumb-ass Pizza King t-shirt. Thank fuck he lost the cap somewhere during the night.
Speed moans, throws Shady a deadly glare, then struggles to get upright.
“What the fuck, Deuce?” Speed grumbles. “The minute you’re back, I’m feeling like shit.”
“Who’re you kiddin’? You haven’t had that much fun in five years, three months and sixteen days.”
Speed laughs. “Fuckin’ fact, man.”
“So, who else have you seen so far?” Shady asks.
“Just him.” I jerk my thumb at Speed. “And thank fuck for that, or he’d still be delivering pizza.”
“It wasn’t so bad. Besides, some of my female customers were very appreciative.”
We laugh, and then I sober. “I figured once we connected, you’d hook me up with the others.”
“I don’t think Fist and Scratch wanna be found.”
“I’m looking them up anyway, ‘cause, believe me, the Kings are gonna be on top again.” My voice sounds way more confident than I feel, but if I didn’t believe it, I couldn’t expect them to.
“Last I heard, Fist is a valet at the Hard Rock,” Shady offers.
I can’t stop laughing at that one. Fist loved cars—fast cars—and he drove like a maniac.
“How’s that working out for him?”
“Well, so far he’s been through all the hotels on the boardwalk,” Speed says. “He’s got a little problem with keeping the cars parked. As in, if it’s a high-end car, he likes to take it for a joy ride.”
“Like the Maserati he took to Philly for a day.” Shady cocks his head. “I guess you could say the Hard Rock is his last resort.”
“And Scratch?”
“He’s collecting money at the arcades, then handing it off to the owners. In other words, he’s a bag man for the Russians.”
“Shit, the Russians have their fingers in the boardwalk now?” I knew it was only a matter of time since there was plenty of money to be made.
“Looks that way. Of course, Scratch will tell you different. He claims they run the boards on the up and up.” Shady pulls a face. “Everybody knows those games on the boards are fixed big-time. Back in the day, it was the Mafia; now it’s the Russians.”
“Ace is the only one of us who landed a decent job.”
“Of course he did.” ‘Cause when it came to conning people, Ace was the master. As my VP, he was the perfect right hand. I’d get the ideas, and Ace had the savvy wits to get it done.
