Sweetcheeks IV: Cherub

Debra Fran Baker


"I will *not* have this...man look for my son." Timothy Martin, whose dark eyes were baggy from lack of sleep and red from recent crying, faced Simon Banks in his office.

"Mr. Martin, Detective Ellison is the finest officer in this division. Maybe the entire PD. He's the best chance we - and your boy - have."

"*Him*?" Timothy gestured towards Jim Ellison, who was leaning negligently against Simon's office door. Blair, unnoticed in the crowd, followed the nail-bitten hand. He grinned. Jim was actually subdued today - tailored natural linen pants, a blue and natural seersucker vest over a collarless shirt, and a plain stud in his ear. He'd left the jacket that matched the vest over his chair - and he could have been wearing yesterday's yellow sport coat. The one that made Henri shade his eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Martin. *Me.* And *without* a *penny* of your money going to those hoodlums, either."

Simon nodded. Sometime Blair wondered if the captain had gotten used to Jim's mannerisms - God knew *he* hadn't - or simply chose to ignore them.

Lisa Martin, who had been weeping silently, finally spoke up. "Timothy, please. We have to get TJ back." She put a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"I know, Lees, But - a - a..."

Jim smirked. "Faggot? Queen?" Timothy opened and closed his mouth. "Oh, stop, Mr. Martin. I *do* know the words."

"Find my son, Ellison, or your ass is mine."

"Promises, promises."


"Yes! Harder! Harder! Oh, Blair, honey, that's *so* good!"

"My hands are getting a little tired, Jim."

"Don't you *dare* stop. Oh, yes! That's got it. Yes!"

Jim went completely limp with relief. "You are *such* an angel." His words were muffled by his pillow.

Blair grinned as he shook his hands out. "Next time, no dipping, okay?"

"But it's *so* much fun." Jim turned to face him.

"Then don't dip guys bigger than you are. It always hurts your back."

"I *know*. But you're too butch to dip, and you won't do me."

Blair leaned forward to kiss him. "You're cute when you whine." He smiled to himself. He'd never imagined a world where he'd be the "butchest" guy in the room. *Oh, the places you've taken me, Jim.*

Jim moaned at the kiss. Thus encouraged, Blair began nibbling down his back, while kneading that sweet rear gently. His lover sighed, wriggled and parted his legs when Blair got to the small fuzzy patch just above it.

"Want me there, Jim?"

"Oh, yeah...now..."

"Not going to be dipping any more guys?"

"But *sweetie...*"

"Come on, Jim..."


"There's that cute whine." And with those words, Blair parted those perfect cheeks and dived right in. Six months ago, he would have thought rimming to be beyond him, but turned out to be one of his biggest turnons.

Especially with Jim's moans ringing in his ears.

Ringing? That wasn't Jim. That was his phone. Damn. Blair reluctantly rolled off. Jim pouted as he answered the phone.

"Ellison. Si