Year of the Dog Read Online Free PDF

Dragons again? It didn’t seem like their style, and Lucky didn’t think they were smart enough anyway. More than one crew working no-man’s-land? He thought about Koo Jai and the Ghost Legion crew out on East Broadway, farthest from the center. It was Koo Jai’s responsibility to control things out there, even though they’d banged up against some Fuk Ching lowboys and were now operating on disputed turf under an unspoken, unofficial truce. Koo Jai, the pretty-boy hustler with the short pal, Eddie Ng, the stupid Jung brothers, and a few other kids who used to be called the Stars, or something corny like that.
    Lucky would need to call in Koo Jai for a sit-down after the transfers at the gambling basements, and after the whorehouse on Chrystie, toward which Lefty was now turning the dark car.

Chao’s
    Chao’s was a cathouse in a renovated five-story condo building on a quiet part of Chrystie Street near the old junkie park. Lucky brought along one of the Prada bags and dropped a fistful of Ecstasy pills inside it.
    Angelina Chao, fortyish, a one-time Hong Kong hostess, ran the tidy little show out of her two-bedroom suite on the fifth floor, with a balcony that looked out over the park and the jumbled maze of rooftops in the distance. Angelina rotated a posse of Asian pussy from Miami, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and New Orleans.
    Appetizers, blowjobs, were fifty bucks a pop.
    Chaos, mused Lucky, playing the thought off of Angelina’s last name. He had called ahead to Angelina and she’d assured him he’d be the new girl’s first suck off of the night. Earlier, he had heard some out-of-town gamblers laughing about a jop-jung mixed-breed girl, a fresh one over at Angelina’s, a half-Cuban half-Chinese ho who performed something called a “yingyang” or “blackout” blowjob. Some johns had actually passed out. What? She knew how to squeeze a john’s balls just right, at just the right moment while she was sucking the head so that the juices exploded out as she drained it dry.
    He considered wearing a condom, and saw himself as test- ing the new merchandise, seeing what the girl’s skills were, sort of like quality control.
    Lefty and Kongo waited in the car, patiently aware that the basements on Mott Street would be the next stop.
    Lucky didn’t see any johns hanging around and Angelina waved him into one of the bedrooms. There was a twin bed, a nightstand, and a chair in one corner. The bedspread, the carpet, the curtains, were all red.
    He stood by the door and rebuckled his belt after running it through the loop handle of the Prada bag. He swallowed an Ecstasy and waited. After a few minutes the jop-jung girl came in through a connecting door. She saw the Prada bag dangling in front of Lucky’s crotch and smiled. When she let her red silk gown slip off her shoulders, Lucky saw she was naked, a bodacious tanned body with an exotic face that displayed the best of her two bloodlines. Feline brown eyes and lips that were puffy, swollen, and sexy. Long silky black hair that shimmered when she turned her face.
    She knelt down before him and unbuckled his belt, carefully placing the Prada bag to one side, never taking her eyes off him even as she unzipped his fly. She tugged down his pants, and pulled his lun cock out, caressing it with her French-tip fingernails.
    “Dios mio,” she exclaimed softly, “Nei dai sai.” My god, how big you are, playing him along in two languages.
    “Nei ho yeh,” he answered sarcastically. “You’re the winner. I heard you’re the best.”
    She smiled again, licked her lips, and then ran her tongue in a circle around the head of his cock. She licked it until it was swollen, and proceeded to suck him slow and strong.
    The Ecstasy was working against the sensimilla now, working him like a yo-yo.
    He felt the strength draining from his arms, his legs, all his blood rushing toward his cock, his heart pumping hard to keep things working. The shortness of breath caught him as he saw