Page 9 of Penn

“She’s fucking amazing at what she does. I have never been closer to God,” Rooster says. “You’d never guess she was a bible thumper with the kinky shit she’s willing to do. And let me do to her.”

She swallows like she’s forcing down vomit, and I can’t quite understand how Rooster can be so oblivious to her discomfort. “I’m not sure this is the right fit,” I say. “You don’t look like you’ll survive a week with the men that come into the brothel.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assures. “I’ve done worse. Thank you for the opportunity. Rooster said I can go and work with Queenie to get the paperwork all sorted out and my first clinic test scheduled.”

Faith scurries away, and Rooster holds his hands in a prayer. “That woman can deepthroat like no one I’ve ever met before.”

“That girl hated every fucking minute of it,” Pacino says. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking she pulled off the best performance of anyone I’ve interviewed for Velvet Desire. And from the way her pussy clenched me, I don’t think she hated every minute.”

“It’s her choice,” Jethro says. “Let’s get started. And Rooster, what the fuck did I tell you about the air conditioning? I’m going to have Capone take this month’s bill out of your portion.”

“Totally worth it,” he says with a smile.

He doesn’t realize that Jethro’s going to get him back for this. Rooster may be our road captain, but the president gets final say on things. And our next run will ride through a wild turkey area. Rooster’s going to lose his fucking shit.

As he deserves.

I walk into the Chapel and take my seat when I spot the container on the table. “Pacino?”

“Yeah, they’re the cherry Danishes you fucking love,” he mutters.

“I love your wife,” I say, reaching for the first one.

Ever since he married Phoebe, I’ve gained ten pounds. Ten pounds that were totally worth it.

She owns the bakery in town. Phoebe’s Phab Pastries. Stupid name. Bright yellow interior. But fuck if his girl can’t bake. She makes these amazing pretzel cupcakes with stout and a marshmallow frosting topped with salt flakes that make me want to make love to a dessert.

She’s an interesting woman. So cheery and oblivious to danger around her that Pacino actually had to check her bag for drugs when she stayed with him after she was targeted by his family. Who, surprisingly, is the mob.

Who knew?

“Your wife is an angel,” Capone says.

Now Capone’s family? Totally in the mob. He looks like it, too. Just with leather instead of a pristine suit.

“She’s got a devil side to her, too,” Pacino says with a wink. “And an ass that drives me fucking wild.”

“You do not deserve her,” Kannon says.

“I know.”

He says it simply and without question. Just a quiet truth. He loves her, and marrying her has changed him. Before Phoebe, Pacino was just like Capone and Kannon. Our three grumps who couldn’t keep company with a woman but needed sexual release to keep them functioning without tearing the world apart at every minor inconvenience. The only woman they were with was Queenie at the brothel. The loophole for the three of them.

Now it’s just Kannon and Capone keeping her company.

Maybe I should talk to Jethro about getting in on that loophole. I can’t seem to seal the deal with Dixie around, and I could really use a sexual release. Even if it’s just head.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Jethro says, banging the gavel on the table.

Zeppelin nearly vibrates in his seat to Jethro’s left. He’s got a lot of pent-up energy, and being benched hasn’t been good for him. But being here for Misty during her high-risk pregnancy is necessary, and he knows it.

It doesn’t change the fact that Zep looks like a caged animal as his leg bounces, and his fists clench so tightly that his knuckles turn white. His jaw is locked so tight I’m worried he might actually hurt himself.

“We have a problem with our gun runs,” Jethro says. “The Venom have figured out our routes, and the cops are watching the borders. We’ve got problems on both sides of the law, but there’s a bigger problem we’re facing.”

“What’s that?” Pacino asks from Jethro’s right.