Sin Row

A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Sin Row ISBN # 978-0-85715-569-6 ©Copyright Scarlet Blackwell 2011 Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2011 Edited by S.F. Swift Total-E-Bound Publishing This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-melting.

SIN ROW Scarlet Blackwell

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: BMW: BMW AG, Munich, Germany Cadillac: General Motors Taser: TASER International

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Chapter One

On his way to work, Officer Blake Astor encountered a robbery at the gas station. Some lawless hoods intimidating the frightened attendant with baseball bats. Blake drew his gun from the glove box and saw them off. He squeezed off several shots as they ran down the road. Satisfied, he tucked the gun into his waist, then drove away without paying for his gas, waving at the attendant. Such was the society he lived in. It was dog-eat-dog in this city, where the cops were as bent as the criminals and Blake took advantage where he could. The only way to survive was to look out for number one. And Blake did. His fondness for sex just edged his fondness for money. Everyone did what they could to make their way in this nightmarish, post-apocalyptic world of 2021. Just below the Canadian border, the city of Machan stood in ruins, sinister remains of shelled buildings looming over it. Black market trade was rife, the most common commodities going for hugely inflated prices. Blake pitied the children born into this festering hellhole. If he could escape, he would. But it would only be to run to somewhere equally devastated. He nodded at several hustlers with whom he’d exchanged bodily fluids as he cruised down Sin Row. Blake’s philosophy was simple when it came to arresting people. If you had something he wanted, he would take it in exchange for letting you go. Some of these boys were very proficient at their jobs and he considered it a fair exchange. If you made him happy, he made you happy. He had his mind on yesterday’s whore when he left Sin Row, turned into Police Plaza and parked. The curiously named Io Spencer who had sucked Blake all the way to heaven and then some in the interrogation room the previous afternoon. A smart-mouthed little hooker who’d done it with relish. Blake trotted up the steps into the building, nodding at the desk sergeant. Down the corridor in the locker room, his partner, Ronnie Kemp, greeted him. Ronnie and Blake made a good team, for Ronnie was as keen as Blake to milk the benefits of being a cop. He was clearly keen on Blake too. Blake was kind of interested. Ronnie was a six-foot tall hard-body with blue eyes and blond hair, and Blake would have been blind not to notice.

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“Night shift picked up Io Spencer again this morning,” Ronnie told him. “Thought you might like to know.” A lascivious thrill snaked down Blake’s spine and settled in his pants, hardening him. “I’ll deal with him personally.” “Thought you might.” Blake shut his locker and glanced at himself in the mirror on the wall. His palms were oddly damp. He smirked at Ronnie and left the room. The interrogation room in which Io Spencer had been placed was the one without the two-way mirror. Blake was kinky but even he didn’t want an audience. It contained a table and two chairs and there was wire mesh over the window. Blake pushed the door open, closed and locked it. A dark-haired man lounged in the chair, arms folded. He turned his head. “Ah, Officer Astor. I’ve been waiting for you.” Blake strode forward. “You have?” “Yes. I got the feeling you’d want to see me again.” Blake didn’t like that. Had it been so obvious to this man how much he’d enjoyed it last time? He stepped into the gap between the table and the prisoner’s chair. Leaning forward, he gripped the chair’s arms and pushed it back, so there was room to perch on the desk in front of him. “Now then.” He looked down into the prisoner’s face and all his thoughts died on his lips. Io Spencer possessed eyes you could drown in. Deep forest green, they were like unearthly pools of the clearest water, surrounded by lush dark lashes. His pale face could only be described as pretty. His pink sensual lips drew the gaze, warring for attention with those eyes. Blake appreciated beauty as much as the next guy but this man was something else. “Well?” Io pursed those pink lips. “I’m a busy man, Officer. I’ve money to make.” “And you’re waiting to take your punishment so you can go out and carry on selling yourself…and I can bring you in again.” Io raised an elegant eyebrow. “Your words, not mine.”

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Blake shifted his legs apart. He leant down and dragged Io’s chair closer, so the prisoner sat between his legs. Then he put his hands to his belt and released it. Io’s green eyes seemed to gleam. He watched as Blake unfastened button and zip and drew himself free. “Why, Officer Astor, you’re already hard. Is it me or the thrill of forcing yourself on me that does that?” Blake regarded him stonily. He didn’t know the answer. “Hardly forcing. You took it with relish last time.” Io grinned. “You’re an attractive man, Officer, I can’t help that.” Blake stared down at him a moment. Io’s words struck a chord. He felt oddly as though the prisoner was in control, not the other way around. He wasn’t sure if he liked it. He gave himself a stroke. “Come on then.” Io leant forward. He grasped Blake’s cock at the base with a small hand and swallowed him down slowly. Blake stifled a gasp of pleasure. After last time he’d told himself that the extra special technique Io employed was all in his head, but no. Something about Io Spencer servicing him was different than all those other faceless hookers. He looked down. With mouth stretched wide, Io regarded him steadily from under his lashes, his dark fringe falling endearingly over his eyes. He slid up and down, leaving Blake’s cock gleaming with saliva. A hand felt in Blake’s boxer shorts, fondled his balls. Blake cursed helplessly. He leant back, arms spread behind him, so he couldn’t touch or look down at his pleasurer. Damn him. It was too much. He’d gone home after work last night and jerked off over the memory of being in Io’s mouth. He’d lain in bed and prayed Io got picked up again, and soon. Fire coursed through his loins. He gripped Io’s hair, pulled lightly, then caressed the short strands, moving fingers to his nape, stroking. Io murmured something around his cock. One hand slid suddenly under Blake’s shirt and up his torso. The blowjob had become a little more intimate, and Blake flinched in shock. He thought about stopping the prisoner but Io’s hand was spread across his chest, fingers briskly rubbing at one nipple, and Blake could do nothing except arch into his touch. Io pulled suddenly off his cock, laughing softly. “You like that, huh?” He leant forward, pushed up Blake’s shirt and pressed his mouth to his abdomen.

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Blake started. “Mmm, what a hard body you’ve got, Officer,” Io said, caressing his six-pack with heated kisses. “Now I know why I like you so much.” Blake took him by the hair. “Concentrate on the job in hand.” He guided Io back onto his cock. Io grunted and went back to his task. Blake shivered, his stomach contracting in memory. It wasn’t like he hadn’t enjoyed those kisses to his body and those fingers on his nipple. He had. Too much. They made him imagine rolling around damp sheets with Io Spencer, sliding into heated depths. And he didn’t do that with whores. Even he had standards. Those green eyes looked up at him again as Io sucked steadily. Blake held him by the head as he came, pumping himself into that wicked mouth. He heard himself gasping. For a moment he could only sit as Io slid slowly away. Then a warm tongue licked at the last dribbles of semen and Blake groaned, shuddering, eyes closed. His limbs were too heavy to move. He wanted to lie down on the table and snooze. A voice in the back of his mind told him angrily to get up. What was he doing in such a vulnerable position where the prisoner could easily go for his gun and blow his brains out? “Are you okay, Officer?” Blake opened one eye. He struggled to sit upright. With uncoordinated hands he tucked himself away. Io was smirking. “You’re very, very hot when you come, Officer,” he purred. “I could do that all day.” Blake’s face heated. He pushed Io’s chair back with one foot and jumped off the table onto unsteady legs. “You may go.” “Thank you, Officer.” Io got to his feet. Blatantly, he put a hand down his pants, adjusting an obvious bulge. He winked at Blake. “Be seeing you.” Fuck. The door closed and Blake sank into the warm chair. So much for control. Io had taken it away with only one wink of his mysterious green eyes.

**** Io Spencer walked down the precinct steps, looking away when he caught the gaze of a cop he had sucked off the week before. He fucking hated cops. He’d rather blow some fat,

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sweaty businessman in the back of a BMW than be in that interrogation room giving away his favours for free to those greedy, lecherous bastards. That was until Officer Astor had walked in the door yesterday and Io had had to clamp his teeth together to stop his jaw hitting the floor. Jesus Christ, the cop was the hottest thing Io had ever seen in his life. He had a body like a Greek god and black eyes you could drown in. His chiselled jaw spoke of determination, strength and no bullshit. Io didn’t intend to give him any bullshit. Only open his mouth and let Officer Astor use it to his heart’s desire. When he’d been arrested again this morning, he’d hoped and prayed that the same cop would appear in the interrogation room. Who said dreams didn’t come true? He smiled to himself as he reached Sin Row, his mouth still tingling with the taste of the cop.

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Chapter Two

Blake wasn’t assigned to patrol Sin Row that day, which was a relief because he knew he would have followed Io Spencer to the street and immediately arrested him for picking up his first client, getting him back to the interrogation room for another blowjob within the hour. People might start to talk if Blake began to spend all his time harassing one particular man. Not that harassment was frowned upon, but if Blake started monopolising the interrogation room those guys looking to get off would soon complain. Still, he couldn’t get his mind off the big green eyes and the pink mouth made for sin. He imagined how successful Io Spencer must be at his chosen career. With that lean body below them and those eyes watching, his clients must surely come their brains out effortlessly. His enthusiasm—and hard-on—hadn’t waned by the time he and Ronnie cruised down Sin Row the next afternoon. What a filthy den of iniquity this place was. It stood as a monument to the decay of society. Whores of both sexes lined each side of the street, offering favours to any car or pedestrian that passed. Dealers dealt on the corner. Often the hookers took their earnings straight to a dealer for their next fix. Pimps supervised from the shadows. Violent skirmishes were frequent. The street emptied in the police car’s wake. A few crawling cars sped off when they saw it in their rear-view mirrors. Blake spotted Io Spencer bending down to speak at an open window. He wore a tight black top and black pinstripe pants that emphasised his lean shape. He wore no coat despite the fact it was cold, autumn merging into winter. Blake smiled grimly, glancing at Ronnie. He stopped behind the loitering car and Io looked up, drawing back quickly. The car sped away. Io’s face was like thunder. Blake opened the passenger window. “What are you doing?” Io cried furiously. “Do you know how much that guy was going to pay me?” “You’re under arrest, Io,” Blake said, leaning across Ronnie. “Oh, fuck you.” Io started to march down the street, hips swinging, drawing attention to his pert little backside.

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Blake cruised alongside him. “Get in the car, Io. If you make me chase you, I promise you’ll regret it.” Io stopped. He looked down at Blake, glowering, then opened the back door and got in without another word. Blake was too hard to drive back to Police Plaza. He pulled off into the nearest sidestreet and parked near a deserted warehouse. Ronnie glanced at him. “We sharing?” Blake was reluctant. He felt too greedy even if the idea of a threeway with both hot men aroused him. “Come on,” Ronnie said with irritation. “He’s not your personal toy.” “Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Io shouted from the back. “Shut up, punk,” Ronnie growled back at him. He looked once more at Blake, awaiting a reply. “Fine, but I go first,” Blake said. “And you get out. You’re not watching.” Ronnie shook his head as though Blake’s demands were laughable and climbed from the car. He moved into the shadows of the warehouse and took a cigarette from his pocket. Blake turned to look at Io. “What the hell is this? Passing me around with your fucking buddy?” “Shut up.” Blake climbed into the backseat. He sat next to Io, unfastening himself. When he glanced up, he saw that the smooth cheek nearest to him was marred by a dark bruise. “Who hit you?” “My fucking pimp,” Io spat. “He thinks I’m careless to keep on getting arrested. If he saw me go with you today, he’ll fucking kill me.” Blake reached out a hand to touch the bruise. “No, he won’t.” “Get the hell off me. I suck your cock, you don’t fucking touch me.” Blake’s jaw tightened. He slid along the seat, almost crushing Io into the door. “Don’t I?” He gripped Io by the back of the neck. “I do whatever the fuck I want to you, Io, don’t forget that.” A flash of fear lit the green eyes. Io sat still, watching him carefully as though Blake was a dangerous snake. Blake moved back. He didn’t like that so much. He preferred Io’s

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cooperation, the way he looked up from under his lashes as though he were the one in control. Blake leaned against the door, put one foot up on the seat, legs spread. “Come on.” Io regarded him. For a moment Blake thought he might refuse. What was Blake going to do if he did? He’d never needed exactly to force somebody into it, at least not physically. Verbal coercion usually worked. A bit of blackmail was always good. He refused to analyse his own behaviour. Let God do that on the day of reckoning. Io slid forward. He bent his head. Blake looked down at him as Io sucked his cock. He didn’t like the bruise on his cheek. It told him the man sucking him off was being abused from one side, while Blake abused him from the other. He clenched his teeth and tried to concentrate on the pleasure. What was wrong with him? Now was not the time for an attack of conscience. Not when the hottest man in forever was attached to his cock. Io clearly didn’t have as much enthusiasm as the day before. His pace was not as swift and he didn’t bother to take as much as he could. Blake held his hair. “Don’t act like it’s such a chore, Io, or we’ll be here all day. Put some effort in.” Io glared up through thick lashes. He increased his rhythm. While he sucked, his hands stroked over Blake’s hips, brushing against handcuffs, baton, CS gas, Taser and gun. Blake tensed. He wouldn’t, would he? Would Io actually dare? Io’s hand encircled the barrel of his gun. Through the holster, he slid his hand up and down, mimicking masturbation. “Hey.” Blake took Io’s hand away and put it around the base of his shaft. “Quit playing with the toys and concentrate on this one.” Io smiled around his cock. His eyes lit with green fire and for a moment Blake fell into their depths. He closed his eyes and saw green behind his lids. Pleasure swarmed through him. His fingers stroked Io’s neck, encouraged his head down farther. “That’s good, come on.” He hadn’t realised he’d spoken aloud. Io’s tongue lashed the head of his cock. Blake shuddered and bucked. Io kept to his task as Blake came, filling his mouth. He collapsed, spent against the door, gasping. Io had barely slid away from him before a fist knocked on the window.

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“Come on, my turn.” Blake turned his head to glare at his partner. He fastened himself up and opened the back door, climbing out. He glanced back at Io, who remained as Ronnie eagerly climbed in, already taking out his cock. Blake closed the door and walked away. His limbs felt weak with orgasm. His cock was still half-hard. He thought of Io with his mouth around Ronnie and jealous little needles pricked at him. What did it matter? He was just another whore to be passed around, wasn’t he? After a few minutes, his curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to watch. He crept closer to the car. Ronnie was loud. Gasps and moans and filthy entreaties floated through the air. Blake peeked through the back window. Ronnie leaned against the door, Io between his legs, sucking. Ronnie held him by the head with both hands, pushing Io rhythmically. Blake couldn’t help but be aroused, even if he preferred Io to be his sole plaything. He watched Io, who had a hand between his legs, rubbing the bulge in his tight pants. Blake stared. Now that was hot. He thought of Io yesterday, blatantly adjusting his bulge before he left the interrogation room. Io might be reluctant today, but sucking cock clearly turned him on. Blake watched Io handle himself, getting harder and harder. Blake longed to do something about that bulge in Io’s pants. He swung open the front door and climbed between the seats. “Fuck, what are you doing?” Ronnie made no effort to cover himself, his hard cock glistening with saliva as Io pulled away in surprise. “Joining in. Don’t stop.” Blake crawled between the front seats and crouched with knees against the backseat, the space extremely limited. “Filthy bastard.” Ronnie grinned at him. Io regarded Blake warily before he went back to sucking off Ronnie, but touched himself no longer. Clearly he only did it when he thought no one was watching. But Blake found the hard bulge in Io’s pants mesmerising and quickly unfastened belt, button and zip. Io tried to draw away. “What are you doing?” “Shut up and get back to your job.” He pushed Io’s head back. Then he delved into Io’s pants.

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Io had gone commando so it was easy to pull his cock free. He was rock hard, circumcised and a good size. Io gave a little whimper around Ronnie’s cock as Blake slid him through his fist. He trembled, bucking into Blake’s touch. “Fuck,” Ronnie moaned, watching. Io groaned and sucked Ronnie faster. The cock in his hand aroused Blake more. A myriad of fantasies flooded his head, chief among them spit-roasting Io with his partner right here, right now on the backseat of his car. He put a hand in his own groin, rubbing through his regulation pants while he jerked off Io. Io sucked ever more enthusiastically, panting and groaning around Ronnie’s cock. This was the way to get Io to participate more freely—give him something in return. He was just like any other person in that respect. It wasn’t rocket science. But Blake wasn’t in the habit of crouching in his patrol car’s backseat jerking off whores. He didn’t know what made Io so special. But watching Io’s pleasure turned him on fiercely. He unzipped and pulled his cock free. His left hand wasn’t so accomplished but he was using his right on Io, who strained up into his hand. He was so close he could no longer suck Ronnie’s cock. Instead he licked half-heartedly, gasping, moaning, his feet kicking at Blake’s knees. “Come on, come on,” panted Ronnie. He pushed Io’s head back just as he came and Blake saw semen flood down his chin before Io sucked Ronnie down, taking the rest. Ronnie writhed and bucked, noisy in orgasm before he came to a halt, cursing softly under his breath. Io lifted his head away, then let his face drop against Ronnie’s thigh. His hand moved to grip Blake’s wrist, forcing his hand faster. His soft moans as he approached orgasm undid Blake. “Come here.” He knelt up swiftly in the confined area, gripped Io by the shoulder and pulled him close. “Finish me.” He guided his cock into Io’s mouth. Io still had Ronnie’s semen around his lips and on his chin. He sucked hard, his groans reverberating up Blake’s aching flesh. “Christ, you’re insatiable,” Ronnie said in admiration. Blake ignored him. He watched Io’s pink mouth around his shaft. He held Io’s head while he continued to jerk him off. Io strained into his hand and began to cry out, pulling his mouth away, hands gripping Blake’s ass.

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Blake didn’t try to force him back because he was there himself. While he watched Io spurt jerkily into his hand, creaming over his fingers, he came too, pulling back out of some residual consideration so he spunked over Io’s throat rather than his face. Io gasped and moaned. He slid back onto Blake’s cock, sucking intensely and Blake writhed as Io’s tongue lashed his oversensitive flesh. Then Io drew back, slumping against the backseat, eyes closed. Blake stayed kneeling close by for a moment. He felt in his pockets, then glanced at Ronnie. “Have you got a hanky?” Ronnie delved into his left pocket. He tossed a crumpled hanky Io’s way, then fastened his pants and got out of the back door. Io took the hanky, used it to wipe his face, neck and cock, then handed it to Blake, who cleaned his hand before climbing into the front seat and tossing it back at Ronnie. “Hey, I don’t want your cum rag.” “Why not? Take it home, jerk off over the hottest threeway you ever had in your life.” Blake smirked. “I’ve had better.” Ronnie sniffed. “Not like we actually fucked his tight ass.” “We’ll do that next time.” Their gazes held and Ronnie smiled. He shoved the hanky in his pocket. “Hey, I’m not fucking either of you,” Io said from the backseat. “You’re right, you’re not. We’ll be fucking you,” Ronnie told him. Io swung open the door. “Fuck you both.” “In your dreams,” Blake called as Io stalked from the alley. Ronnie laughed, leaning back against his seat with a satisfied sigh. “Fuck, that boy sucks cock like nobody else.” “I know.” Blake’s gaze remained on Io’s retreating figure.

Io was still hard as he walked away. Christ, the cop had jerked him off! He had knelt there staring at Io with those endlessly dark eyes, like he was actually interested in Io’s pleasure! Jesus, was it some sort of trick? Did he have bigger things lined up and was making sure of Io’s cooperation? But oh, God, the way Officer Astor had looked at him. Io was pretty sure he was going to be a willing participant in any game the cop wanted to play.

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Chapter Three

Blake couldn’t get Io out of his mind. A couple of days later, making sure to leave Ronnie behind at the precinct doing paperwork, he drove down to Io’s patch and cruised. Men and women glared at him from the kerb, stepping away from cars, trying to look like they were loitering on the pavement just passing the time of day in the increasingly frigid autumn air. Io was at the end of the street, as Sin Row faded into Crack Alley. He wore a T-shirt that rode up his lean hips and a pair of low-rising jeans that hugged every asset. His pale arms were a dusky shade of pink with cold. He wore sunglasses. The bruise on his cheek was starting to turn yellow with age. Blake stopped and rolled down the window to talk. “Leave me alone, Officer,” Io snapped. “I’m not doing anything wrong.” “You’re not wearing a coat on this God-awful day. That should be a crime in itself.” Io rolled his eyes. “What are you, my fucking mom? I thought the cops round here beat, fucked and stole from people, not went around telling them to wrap up warm.” Blake regarded him stonily. He only beat people who truly deserved it. Same with the stealing. “What’re you hiding behind the sunglasses?” Io scowled. He bent down. “What I’m hiding, Officer, is this.” He whipped off the sunglasses to reveal a black eye. “Courtesy of my pimp when he saw me driving away with you two guys.” Blake’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. He glanced up and down the street. “Where is he?” Io shook his head. “Don’t even think about it. I’m in enough trouble.” “Give me his name, Io.” “No.” “All right. Get in.” “No. You haven’t seen me soliciting today. I haven’t done anything wrong.” “Get in the car or I’ll drag you in.” “Fucker.” Io wrenched the door open and slid into the passenger seat.

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Blake drove away. He turned up the heater when he noticed Io shivering. “My coat’s in the back. Put it on.” “No.” “Do as you’re told, you awkward son of a bitch.” Io reached into the backseat and dragged Blake’s police jacket out, sliding his arms in, pulling it around himself. It was too big and looked rather endearing. Blake switched his gaze back to the road. “Where’re you taking me?” “Haven’t decided yet.” “All right, I’m not going to be kidnapped by you, Officer. Let me out here.” “Shut up. Where do you live?” “I’m not telling you.” “I can radio dispatch and find out within seconds. Your choice.” Io heaved an angry sigh. “Turn left here.” He directed Blake to an apartment block a few streets away from Sin Row. Grey and ramshackle, it was as Blake had imagined. He pulled up outside and kept the engine running a moment to preserve the heat. “Well, thanks for the ride.” Io jumped out of the car, hurling the jacket back inside. Blake killed the engine. He got out and locked the door, pocketing his keys. “How’s your coffee, Io?” Io shook his head. “Oh no. I don’t take johns back to my place.” “I’m not your john. I don’t pay you.” Io glared. “You fucking bastard.” He stalked away and Blake followed as Io led the way up a stinking, badly lit staircase, the wind whistling through gaps in the wall. Litter was piled on each landing, used needles protruding from plastic bags. Blake toed some out of the way with distaste. “Nice place you have here.” “Shut up.” Io turned and glared from the landing above. “Is this how you get your kicks? Coming back here to torment me about the shithole I live in? Maybe if you didn’t arrest me and use me as your personal sex slave so much, I might make more money. Asshole.” Blake didn’t speak. He followed Io the rest of the way in silence.

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Io opened a door on the fourth floor and stepped inside. He kicked off his shoes and disappeared down the hall. Blake closed the door. Mindful of the neighbourhood, he was sure to engage the bolt and put the safety chain on. The hall opened into one room, comprising a living room with a small bed in one corner, a clothes rail hung in an alcove and a kitchen area that consisted of a noisy fridge, two gas rings and a small work surface. Io glowered at him. He took the kettle and filled it at the sink while Blake looked around. The TV looked like it had come from early last century. Io’s couch was threadbare, a paperback book of George Orwell’s 1984 sitting on the arm. How appropriate. Despite the evident poverty, the place was clean. Blake took a seat. “No sugar please.” “I don’t have any milk.” “That’s fine. I’ll take it black.” Io came over and thrust a chipped mug into his hand. The liquid inside steamed and Blake closed his cold hands around it. Io perched on the bed holding his mug rather than take the only other seat beside Blake. “Drink your coffee then fuck off.” “That’s very unfriendly.” Io regarded him. “Seriously, what do you want?” Blake’s gaze ran over his body. “I want to fuck you.” He didn’t know what he was doing. He hadn’t ever actually slept with a prostitute from Sin Row, so why was he starting now? What was so special about Io Spencer? He couldn’t say. He only knew he wanted this like the air in his lungs. “No way.” Io stood up, flushing angrily. “Take your clothes off.” “I said no. I’ll blow you, you’re not fucking me.” “Take your clothes off, Io.” “Are you going to pay me?” Blake hesitated a moment. “I’ll give you a contribution,” he said finally. “You can buy some decent coffee.” “You motherfucker. I’m up here losing business while you think you can get it for free. I can’t pay my rent this month, you son of a bitch.” “Are you done bitching? Take your clothes off.”

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The calmer Blake stayed, the more he seemed to rile Io. The more riled Io became, the hotter it made Blake. He was hard as unholy hell, imagining wrestling Io onto the bed and taking him by force. Io slammed his mug down on the coffee table. He wrenched off his T-shirt and threw it at Blake. He took off his socks and started to peel off his tight pants. Blake fingered the Tshirt. He brought it to his nose and inhaled Io’s scent. “What are you doing?” “Sniffing you.” “Pervert.” Blake smiled. “I can’t wait to fuck all that anger out of you. I remember what you were like in the back of my car. So fucking wanton, sucking Ronnie’s cock like your life depended on it. I can only imagine what you’re like with a cock inside you.” Io stared at him. He pushed his pants down his legs and kicked them aside. Today he wore tight white briefs, his half-hard cock pushing at them, his heavy balls clearly outlined. He wanted it all right. His body gave him away. Blake reached for his wallet from his back pocket. He took out a condom and a handy packet of lube. “Take those off, get on the bed on all fours and spread your legs.” Io did as he was told. He turned his back before he slid the pants off and climbed on the bed, balls swinging between his legs. He knelt there, ankles apart. “Wider.” Blake stood, unfastening himself. “Let me see.” Io dipped his head, face pressed into the pillow, legs opened more. When Blake was silent behind him, Io gave a stifled moan, his ass swaying. Blake climbed onto the bed, pushing his pants and boxers down. “Do you like me looking at your little hole, Io? Does it turn you on?” Io caught his breath. “Yes, damn it.” “That’s what I like to hear. How about I get that hole all wet and ready?” Io’s only response was to spread himself even wider. Blake grinned, tore open the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers. “Open up in the name of the law.” He rubbed Io’s entrance perfunctorily before he pushed one, then two fingers inside. Io swore under his breath. “You asshole.”

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Blake understood why he was an asshole. He had made Io shamelessly display himself and shamelessly want it. Io turned on like this was the hottest thing ever. He fucked Io slowly with slick fingers and listened to his little pants for breath. “I bet you love to be fucked, don’t you?” “Sometimes,” Io said almost reluctantly. “Depends who it is.” “If it’s a hot cop doing it?” “Yeah, I like to be fucked by a hot cop. Know any?” Blake slapped him hard on one firm, round buttock and Io yelled. “Tell me why I don’t gag you, you smart-mouthed little shit?” “Because you want to listen to the noises I make.” Io looked over his shoulder. He had a point. Blake wanted to listen to Io beg for more, beg him to fuck him harder, faster, longer. He felt under Io, found his cock rock hard. Io groaned and swayed as Blake jerked him off. He pulled his fingers free and ripped open his condom then rolled it on. He gripped Io by the hips, rubbing slowly against him. “Fuck…” Io moaned, pushing back. “Do you want it, you little slut?” “You know I do. Give it to me.” Blake pushed forward. He penetrated Io to the hilt, listening to him cry out, feeling him clamp around him. He slid one hand up Io’s arched spine, stroking. “Good?” “Fuck, yes. Fuck me.” Blake growled. He held Io’s hips, watching his slick cock as he withdrew and slid back in. He thought about the threeway in the car. Imagined Io’s mouth full with Ronnie’s cock as Blake pushed him onto it over and over. Io wailed in ecstasy. “Oh God, please…” Blake reached underneath and grabbed his cock. “Come for me, you dirty little whore.” Io was even louder than he had been in the car. He was like Blake’s very own porn show. Io clenched around him and pushed back hard onto Blake’s cock. “Please…please…” Hot liquid flooded over Blake’s fingers, the rhythmic clenching of Io’s muscles wringing out

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his climax. Blake gasped and bucked into Io a few more times before he fell forward over his back, pinning him to the bed.

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Chapter Four

Io had wriggled from beneath him and disappeared into the bathroom but Blake stayed where he was, pants pulled down, cock still half-hard. Fuck, that was something else. Maybe even better than getting blown by Io. He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked delicately at the semen on one finger. Io tasted oddly okay. Kind of sweet. Perhaps he ate a lot of pineapple. He rubbed his hand on the bedcovers. Running water lulled him away as he closed his eyes.

**** A loud click in the silence startled him from sleep. He focussed bleary eyes on Io, standing naked by the bed, Blake’s own gun levelled on him. “What the fuck are you doing?” “Shooting you.” Io pointed the gun farther down, at Blake’s crotch. “Perhaps here, so you can’t use it anymore.” “Hey, come on.” Blake lifted himself on one elbow. His heart hammered. Looking down the barrel of your own gun was surprisingly disconcerting. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t want. You practically begged me for it.” Io’s lip curled in scorn. “Acting, Officer. I’m good at it. It’s part of my job.” Blake was caught flat-footed. Was that true? “But…you came.” “So? A physiological reaction to someone jerking my cock while fucking my ass. You weren’t anything special.” Blake clenched his jaw. “Give me the goddamn gun.” “No. Not until you see what it’s like to be on the other end of it.” Io climbed onto the bed and straddled Blake’s hips, pushing him down flat. Pointing the gun into Blake’s face, he manoeuvred each leg over his shoulders, imprisoning his head. “Suck my cock.” Blake stared up at him. Io was almost fully hard. Obviously the power play turned him on while Blake’s own cock was twitching. Danger tended to do that to him. He opened his mouth as Io guided his cock inside. Fuck, it’s hot.

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Blake couldn’t help his reaction to Io in his mouth. He sucked while Io thrust, fucking his mouth. He put his hands up, gripping Io’s delicious little ass, encouraging him to fuck his mouth harder. Never had he enjoyed giving a blowjob more. Perhaps it was the cold steel jabbing into his temple. Perhaps this reversal of fortune appealed masochistically to him. He looked up into Io’s face. Io watched him, never loosening his grip on the gun, though moans of pleasure slipped past his lips. Then his head fell back and he shuddered, eyes closed as he came. Blake swallowed dutifully. Io pulled free and tossed Blake’s gun at him. He climbed off the bed and went to the clothes rail, pulling a threadbare robe free and slipping it on. Blake clicked the safety catch back on. He crammed his dick into his pants and holstered his gun. He sat up, watching as Io took the two mugs from the coffee table and tipped their contents down the sink. The silence went on for so long that he felt the need to break it. “What sort of a fucking name is Io anyway?” “My fucking name.” Io washed the mugs out. “Don’t you know your astronomy? Io is Jupiter’s closest moon.” “I see. Mother was a fan?” “In Greek mythology Io was a nymph who was changed into a cow by Zeus so his wife wouldn’t find out he was shagging her. The moons of Jupiter were named after his conquests.” “I imagine Jupiter’s got a lot of moons?” “Tons. The four Galilean moons are the main ones though. Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto. In order of decreasing distance.” “Discovered by Galileo, I presume?” “Correct.” “Hmm. You’re not just a pretty face, are you?” Io dried his hands on a dish towel. “I had a telescope when I was little.” “What happened to it?” “It was taken away when the house was repossessed. Then my mother got locked up and I was put in foster care.”

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Blake regarded him. He didn’t like to ask if Io’s mother was taken away by the police or by the men in white coats. It seemed imprudent. “So how long have you been selling yourself?” “Years.” Io opened a cupboard. The only thing inside was a tin of beans. He closed it again. “How old are you?” “Twenty-seven.” “Do you do women too?” “Sometimes, if the price is right. They’re easier. They don’t tend to beat you.” A little pang of something pricked at Blake. “Give me your pimp’s name.” “I already told you—” “I just want to speak to him, that’s all. I won’t cause any trouble.” Io paled. “He’ll think I sent you!” His voice was edged with hysteria. “No, he won’t. I promise. Listen, I can find out soon enough. I know most every pimp’s name on Sin Row.” Io sighed. He sat down on the couch. “George Bentley.” Oh yes, Blake knew him all right. A piece of filthy scum who had crossed his path more than once. He stood, pulled out his wallet and extracted a few notes, which he tossed onto the bed. “Be seeing you, Io. And oh, next time you touch my gun, you’re a dead man.” He closed the door after him. He doubted Io would take his threat seriously. It had been obvious that sucking cock with his own gun stuck in his face turned Blake on. If anything, Io would want to repeat it. Blake couldn’t bring himself to worry too much about the prospect.

**** Io straightened the covers on his bed. Dampening a corner of the dish towel, he rubbed the patch of semen. When he’d taken the cop’s gun, he had actually thought of shooting him. That was until Officer Astor gave him the blowjob of the year and clearly fucking loved it. Io sensed that he was falling once more into that sexual fascination. Damn it. He was helplessly hard again. Even the soreness of his ass when he moved turned him on. He sat down, pulled his robe open and put a hand around himself. He relived every thrust into his depths as he jerked off.

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**** George Bentley was in an alleyway roughing up another one of his hookers, a young girl by the name of Lily. A timid little thing, Lily hadn’t yet lost her naïveté. Blake usually gave her a warning when he caught her soliciting, preferring not to arrest her. He strode into the alleyway and withdrew his baton, flicking it to its full length with a loud click. George let go of Lily. Blake gestured curtly with his head and Lily scuttled away. Blake stepped closer. “What can I do for you, Officer?” Bentley was sharp-featured and thin. He resembled a rat. He wore a ludicrous purple faux fur coat and a black furry hat. “I’m getting tired of seeing the evidence of your fists, Mr Bentley. I cruise down Sin Row and I can pick out every one of your whores by the bruises on their faces.” George cocked his head, regarding Blake curiously. “Since when does the law give a shit what I do with my property? The way I hear it, you’re too busy fucking them.” Blake lunged forward. He pinned Bentley to the wall with his baton at his throat. “Nobody is your property, you understand me? I’m in charge down here and if I say you leave off them, you fucking leave off them, got me?” Bentley choked, his face reddening. He nodded as best he could. Blake stepped back and closed his baton. “That’s good. I’m glad we understand each other.” He sauntered out of the alley.

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Chapter Five

“Hey, Blake.” Blake was fastening his shirt in the locker room when Ronnie swung in, dumping his bag on the floor and opening his locker with a bang. “Hey.” “How’s it going?” “Fine. You?” “Yeah.” Ronnie pulled off his T-shirt and Blake tried not to look at his partner’s chiselled torso. “Listen…” Blake turned to regard him. “I was just thinking…” Ronnie hesitated a moment. “About you and me going down to Sin Row later and getting ourselves a nice piece of ass.” Blake raised an eyebrow. “Any piece of ass in particular?” Ronnie grinned self-consciously. “You know who. Io Spencer. I can’t stop thinking about him in the car with us.” Just the name was enough to get Blake hard. And the thought of Ronnie and him sharing Io between them…Christ. Even if he had been reluctant at first about sharing, he couldn’t forget how much watching Ronnie with Io had turned him on. “I guess we could,” he said casually as though he could take it or leave it. “That’s what I like to hear.” Ronnie dropped his pants and Blake glanced at what he was packing, as he had many times before. Maybe this time he would get his hands on both Ronnie and Io.

**** They knocked off at five but neither got changed. The uniform served a purpose. Many purposes. Io stood out in the rain on Sin Row, his black shirt clinging to his lean body, his dark hair dripping. “He looks even hotter when he’s wet through,” Ronnie remarked.

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Blake silently agreed. He drew up alongside him and Ronnie wound down the window. “Get in.” Io glared at the two of them. “Go away, Officers, you’re ruining my night.” “Don’t worry about that. We’ll make it up to you.” Ronnie grinned at him. Io looked from him to Blake, his gaze lingering. He stood back, arms folded. “If you want me, you pay me. I don’t do threeways for nothing, you know.” Ronnie glanced at Blake. “Cheeky little bastard, isn’t he? Acts like he has some choice in the matter.” “Hey, fuck you, pig! I have a fucking choice!” Io stalked off down the street. Blake clicked his tongue at Ronnie. “You have to know how to handle him. He has claws but if you stroke him the right way…” Ronnie sent him a sharp look. “You been doing more with him than getting sucked off in the interrogation room?” Blake felt a blush rise on his cheeks. “I fucked him at his place the other day.” Ronnie whistled in admiration. “Did he like it?” “Loved it.” Blake left out the bit about getting his own gun pointed at him. “Okay then, show me how it’s done.” Ronnie’s hand squeezed his knee. Their eyes met in the fading light. Blake’s cock stirred. He couldn’t quite believe he was about to have both Ronnie and Io. Io had taken a shortcut through a dead-end street. Clearly he was heading for home so Blake drove there, hoping to beat him to it. They arrived outside the grim apartment block only a few seconds before a wet Io trudged around the corner. When he saw their car, he marched up to it and kicked the front panel above the wheel. “Fuck you dudes! I knew I should have never told you where I lived. Christ, if anyone sees you coming here…” Ronnie swung his door open. “Damage to police property will result in me docking your pay, Mr Spencer.” Blake climbed out. “I already spoke to George. You won’t have any trouble with him.” Io glowered. He stood hunched against the rain. Ronnie pulled his wallet from his pocket and held out some notes. “Here.”

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Io took them and counted. “What do you want for this?” he asked suspiciously. “Anything kinky?” “Depends what you define as kinky,” Ronnie said. “I doubt we’ll do anything to you that hasn’t been done before.” He glanced at Blake. “Unless you want to suffocate him or piss on him?” Blake glowered. “Not my scene.” “Good, then let’s go up and don’t worry your pretty little head that we’re going to fist you to death,” Ronnie told Io, setting off towards the building. Io glared at Blake. “This isn’t a fucking free-for-all,” he hissed. “Don’t exaggerate. He’s paid you. Count yourself lucky.” Io turned on his heel and walked away.

**** When Io had let them in, he told them, “Take your shoes off. Take your guns out and put them in this box. I’ll keep the key until we’re done.” He held out a metal, safe-like box. Blake looked at Ronnie. He did as he was told. “Why?” Ronnie demanded. “Hey, listen. Friends of mine have been murdered by cops in this block,” Io spat. “Why should you be any different?” Ronnie lunged forward, knocking the box from Io’s hand, pinning him against the wall by his throat. “Don’t.” Blake grabbed his arm but Ronnie ignored him. “Listen to me, you little fucking whore. We’ve come to get our rocks off. If we wanted to kill you, you’d be fucking dead already.” “Enough.” Blake dragged Ronnie away. Io stepped away from the wall, coughing, massaging his throat, his green eyes burning hatred at the pair of them. Blake sighed. “Look, let’s just calm down, okay? Have you got something to drink, Io?” “Yeah, shitty coffee or water,” Io growled. Blake pulled out his wallet. “Ronnie, go down to the store on the corner. Get us some beers or wine.” He looked meaningfully at him. While Ronnie was gone, Blake could smooth Io’s ruffled feathers and get him in the mood.

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Ronnie hesitated a moment, glaring at Io before he snatched the money and disappeared. “Don’t think you can butter me up while he’s gone.” Io clicked on a lamp in the living room. He went into the kitchen and ran a glass of water, drinking thirstily. Blake kept his voice low. “Come on, it was a bit harsh to accuse the both of us of wanting to kill you. When have I ever hurt you?” Io glanced at him. “You think you can bat those big puppy eyes at me, Officer, and I’ll fall into bed with you. Don’t you?” Blake stepped closer. “Blake. My name’s Blake.” “Blake. And I’m allowed to use it, am I?” “Of course you are. My partner’s name is Ronnie.” “You could still murder me whether I know your first names or not. No one gives a shit what the cops do in this city.” “I’m not going to murder you.” Blake sat on the couch. He held his hand out. “Come and sit down here with me.” Io shook his head. He started to strip as Blake watched in delighted surprise. Io turned his back when he pulled his boxers down. He climbed beneath the covers of his bed. Blake wasn’t sure how the small bed was going to accommodate all of them, but he didn’t much care. He’d do Io on the floor if necessary. Io watched from the bed. “You didn’t take your clothes off the other day, Blake. Why don’t you let me see what you keep under the uniform?” Blake hardened at the anticipation on Io’s face. He tossed his jacket on the couch and unbuttoned his shirt while Io watched. Only when he’d thrown the item aside did he realise how cold it was. Never mind, he would be glad of it once he’d worked up a sweat. He reached for his belt, took his time unfastening it. He unzipped slowly. “Come on, you tease.” Blake smiled. He pushed down his pants and climbed out of them, standing in his underwear. “Very nice. And the rest.” As Blake hooked his thumbs under the waist of his boxers, a knock came at the door. He opened it, and Ronnie regarded him with his eyes on stalks. “Hope you haven’t started without me.” He put a hand on Blake’s groin, fondling his package. Blake drew back

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in shock. Although Ronnie had never hid his attraction, he had never overtly touched him this way either. Ronnie cackled. “Shit, Blake, now’s not the time to be a prude. You got a bottle opener?” he called to Io. “Drawer by the sink.” Ronnie put two six-packs of beer down on the counter. He’d also bought a pack of condoms and a bottle of lube. He tossed them onto the bed, then took three beers out and opened them, handing one to Blake. He walked over to the bed and held out the third to Io. “Thanks.” Io still regarded him uncertainly. He sat up and drank. Ronnie took a swig of his beer and put it on the coffee table. He unholstered his gun and showed it to Io. Then he walked across the room, placed it in the box and locked it, taking the key. He came back to the bed and held it out to Io. “Here.” Io took the key. “Thank you.” He pushed the key under his pillow and leant back on it. Hardly an effective hiding place, but Blake guessed Io counted on keeping the both of them so busy that neither of them would be interested in finding the key. Still, he went to the front door and bolted it, slipping the chain on. Ronnie took his cuffs off his belt. “Okay, ready to get fucked?” Io’s gaze darted nervously to Blake’s. “Later,” Blake said softly. “When we’re warmed up.” Ronnie grumbled to himself. He let his belt fall heavily to the floor and tossed the cuffs on top of it. Then he kicked off his shoes and started unbuttoning his shirt. Io and Blake watched as Ronnie stripped naked and stood, his thick cock jutting out. “Well?” he addressed Io. He stepped forward and wrenched the covers from him, leaving Io bare. Io’s chest heaved a little in clear excitement. He lay there with hands clutching at the bed sheets, his hard cock against his belly. Blake shed his boxers. He climbed onto the bed and knelt by Io, waiting. Ronnie climbed onto the foot of the bed. “So, Io, what do you like to do in bed?” Io looked stumped for a moment. Finally he replied, “Anything.” Ronnie laughed. “That gives me a lot of licence.” He trailed his fingers up Io’s leg as far as his thigh, grazing his balls.

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Io caught his breath, shifting on the bed. “Do you like to be sucked off?” Ronnie shifted up the bed. He pressed his lips to Io’s flat belly. “Yes.” “Do you like to be rimmed?” “Yes.” “And I bet you really like a hard cock in you, don’t you?” “Yes.” Io was flushed. Ronnie flicked his tongue over the head of Io’s cock. “We both want to fuck you. Is that okay with you?” Io almost moaned. “Yes.” His cock twitched under Ronnie’s tongue. Watching, Blake touched himself. Ronnie slid his mouth over Io’s cock, taking nearly all of him down. Io gasped. Blake stared, realising that Io’s pleasure had become his pleasure. He would be happy to stay here all night watching Io come, over and over again. Ronnie drew back from his sucking. He lifted Io’s legs, forcing them apart and over his head. Then he feathered his tongue over Io’s tight little hole. Io cried out. Blake jerked off, eyes on Ronnie’s darting tongue. Ronnie lifted his head. “Come on, Blake, don’t be shy.” Blake was galvanised into action. He knelt backward over Io’s head so he could watch Ronnie and pushed his cock into Io’s mouth. Io sucked greedily. He squirmed under Ronnie’s caress. “Hmm, you really do like a tongue in your ass, don’t you, you dirty boy?” Ronnie asked, biting at one buttock. Io bobbed his head, his mouth stuffed with Blake’s cock. “Lucky for you I love to rim then.” Ronnie went back to his job. He alternately sucked Io’s balls and licked his ass. Blake leaned on Io’s bent knees, continuing to straddle Io’s face before he lowered his head and sucked Io’s cock. Io moaned loudly around his cock. Blake guessed it was all his Christmases come at once, to be sucked off and rimmed at the same time. Io increased his speed, sucking off Blake frantically.

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With their faces close, Ronnie looked up at Blake. “We’re going to spit-roast this whore,” he said. Blake didn’t argue. He would rather have gone first but it didn’t matter as long as he got a turn. Ronnie reached for a condom and the lube. He rolled one on and coated it in lube. Then he ran his fingers around Io’s already wet entrance. He lifted his head to look at Io. “Do you have any toys? I just love to play with toys.” Blake drew back so he could speak. Io hesitated. “Under the bed.” Ronnie leaned over the edge, fishing around. He came back grinning with a lurid pink dildo. He held it against himself. “It doesn’t exactly measure up but I don’t like my dildos bigger than me.” He coated it in lube. “Do you fuck yourself with this?” Io nodded, biting his lip. “You can’t get enough, can you? You get fucked for a living and you come back here and fuck yourself some more.” Io looked ashamed. He said nothing. Blake doubted it was a case of Io being a sex maniac. More like he used the dildo to get himself off when his clients failed to satisfy him. Io cried out and arched back as Ronnie pushed the dildo into him, fucking him swiftly. “That’s it, come on, let’s hear you.” Blake stayed kneeling, watching Io getting fucked by the dildo. “Do you jerk off while you’re fucking yourself with the dildo?” Ronnie asked. Io nodded, gasping. “What do you think about?” “Hot men fucking me.” “Hot men like me?” Ronnie met his gaze. “I…no…I think about Blake.” Blake was startled. He felt his face heat. He bent forward over Io and started to suck his cock again. Ronnie cackled. “Well, it’s all coming out now. Blake, the whore has a little crush on you.” Io panted for breath. He thrust up into Blake’s mouth. Blake felt hands on his ass, spreading him open and then a wet tongue sliding over him. He gasped. Ronnie smiled. He knelt back, fucking Io with one hand, jerking off with the other. Io writhed on the bed. He cried out when Ronnie pulled the dildo free.

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Ronnie knelt over him and thrust inside. Io howled, clutched Blake’s buttocks hard, increased the frequency of his licks. Fuck. Blake watched Ronnie’s slick cock pounding Io and his own cock leaked onto Io’s chest. Ronnie pulled Io’s legs back, held them up over his shoulders while he shoved into him. Blake continued sucking off Io and guided his cock back into Io’s mouth. Io gave muffled moans and pushed a finger into Blake’s ass. Blake leaned further over him. He sucked at Io’s balls, then lifted them up so he could watch Ronnie’s cock going in. He put his tongue out, licked around the stretched skin where Ronnie was buried and licked at Ronnie’s cock as it came out of Io’s ass. Io wailed and panted around Blake’s cock. “Fuck,” Ronnie said. “I don’t know who’s dirtier out of the two of you guys.” He pulled out and Io gave muffled protest. Ronnie grabbed Blake’s hand. “Feel how wet and open he is.” He guided Blake’s fingers inside moist heat. “I bet we could both fuck him.” Io squealed. Blake drew back his cock so he could speak. “Do you have something to say?” Ronnie asked, amused. “You’re our slave now, didn’t you know? We’re going to fuck you until you can’t stand up and if you say you haven’t had two men in you before, you’re a liar.” Io was red-faced. Blake wasn’t sure if it was with arousal or embarrassment or both. He fingered Io’s entrance gently. Io squirmed and pushed down. “You’re so horny right now we could do anything we wanted, right?” Ronnie continued. Io whimpered. “Fuck me,” he said. “Please.” Ronnie shoved Blake’s hand aside. He thrust back into Io and fucked him hard and fast. Io cried out with every thrust, his mouth seeking Blake’s cock so Blake firmly plugged up the noise, rocking into Io’s mouth while watching Ronnie’s cock. After a couple of minutes, Ronnie gasped, his chest and neck flushing, his hands tight on Io’s ankles. He thrust jerkily, cursing loudly as he came. “Fuck.” He let go of Io’s legs, pulled free and flopped down next to Io, almost falling off the edge of the narrow bed. “Your turn, Blake.” Blake pulled his cock free and climbed off Io. He rolled a condom on with trembling fingers. Io lay touching himself, knees open and apart.

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Blake knelt between them. He looked down at Io while he guided himself inside. Io arched up, taking every inch greedily. His insides were slick and wet around Blake’s cock. He wrapped his legs around Blake’s back. Blake leaned over him, thrusting, his mouth seeking Io’s throat, planting a few kisses, as intimate as they had ever got. Io was still noisy, still seeking the orgasm Ronnie had failed to provide. A hand snaked between their bodies and Ronnie started jerking Io off. While he did, his other hand smoothed over Blake’s buttocks, fondled his balls. Blake cursed as a wet finger found his ass. It was kind of distracting. He wanted to concentrate on fucking Io and making him come but now Ronnie was kneeling behind him, his attention on Blake. Blake’s rhythm went haywire as Ronnie started to tongue him. He sucked Blake’s balls and licked at the base of his shaft, just below his condom. Blake cursed and moaned. He thrust harder into Io and put a hand around him, jerking him off. Ronnie’s wet tongue circled him relentlessly. The sensation of fucking Io and being rimmed was too much to bear. Blake was going to come but he wanted Io there before him. He knelt back and Ronnie went with him. Blake sat on Ronnie’s face, Ronnie’s tongue probing Blake’s entrance, working him open. Blake increased the movement of his hand on Io’s cock, then rubbed at one rosy nipple with the other before pinching it. Io gasped and cried out. He strained up into Blake’s hand, bucking his hips, tightening deliciously around him. “Please, please…” he moaned. “Oh God yes, yes…” He came, spurting over himself in long, white ribbons and Blake followed suit, coming so violently he almost saw stars. He fell motionless onto Io. “Pair of lightweights,” Ronnie said. “I’m ready to go again.”

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Chapter Six

The only light in the room was the glow through the thin curtains from the streetlights. The three of them lay crammed side by side like sardines on the narrow bed, Io sandwiched in the middle by both cops. Only Blake was awake. Despite Ronnie’s earlier declaration he had fallen instantly asleep. Blake lay nose to nose with Io, one arm around him, bodies pressed so close he felt Io’s heart beating. He was hard and ready to go again. How could he not be with Io in such close proximity? “Io?” he whispered hopefully. Io’s eyelids flickered and the whites of his eyes gleamed in the dark. “Mmm.” He pressed even closer if that was possible, one thigh sliding between Blake’s, wood against wood. “I see you want to get your money’s worth.” Blake would rather he not mention that. Not when they were pressed together so intimately and Ronnie was, for the moment, out of the equation. He flinched in shock when Io pressed a kiss to his jaw. Then warm breath tickled his ear. “Let’s not wake him up just yet.” A hand encircled his cock, stroking. “I don’t want to share you.” Something warm and delicious uncoiled in the middle of Blake’s chest. He felt himself blush like a schoolboy. His heart pounded. He was almost mouth to mouth with Io, could almost taste the sweetness of his succulent lips. He pushed into Io’s hand, reaching down so he could touch him too. Io watched him silently and his green eyes seemed to glow in the dark. A heavy arm landed on Io’s hip, fingertips touching Blake as well. “Hope you’re not starting without me, gentlemen.” “Well, if you’re going to be a lightweight…” Blake offered, disappointed he’d awoken. Ronnie growled. He reached down to the floor, feeling about until he located the lube and a condom. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled it on before covering it with lube. Then he gripped Io by one thigh, lifting it and thrust into him. Io shivered in shock and let out a cry. His arm tightened around Blake’s shoulders and his face fell against his neck. He panted there as Ronnie fucked him swiftly.

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The bed shook with each thrust and Io’s hand clamped hard onto Blake’s cock. “Give me the lube,” Blake told Ronnie, who obeyed. Blake squirted some onto one hand. Then he reached down, pushed Io’s hand away and slicked up both their cocks. Pressing them together, he slid them both slowly, wetly, through his palm. Io’s back arched. His teeth dug into Blake’s shoulder. Ronnie grunted and increased his pace, one hand squeezing Io’s balls. “God, I could fuck you all night, you perfect little slut.” Perhaps it was supposed to be a compliment. Io began to litter Blake’s neck with heated kisses and Blake groaned aloud, holding his head, playing with the silky hair, feeling the orgasm rising. Io’s mouth reached his ear. It traced his cheek and jaw and Blake turned his head with his heart hammering. He saw a flash of green eyes, heard Io gave a soft moan as his lashes veiled them. They were an inch apart and Blake was heading for the sweetest kiss of his life. “Come on, you little whore, let’s hear you moan.” Ronnie pulled Io’s hips back hard to meet his next thrust and the spell was broken. Io’s head lolled back against Ronnie’s shoulder. He gave a theatrical moan. His hand rested over Blake’s, forcing him to jerk faster. About to come, Blake attacked Io’s torso with kisses. He zeroed in on one tiny nipple after another, sucking them stiff, leaving them wet. Io writhed under his caress, holding Blake’s head, bucking into his jerking hand. Ronnie might have been doing the fucking but to Blake he felt almost forgotten. Io’s pleasure seemed to be coming from Blake’s mouth and hands, not Ronnie’s cock. He felt a smug sense of superiority. Ronnie began to pant loudly. He withdrew abruptly and stripped off his condom before he slid up the bed, pushing Io onto his back. “I want to come on your face.” He knelt by Io’s head, jerking furiously. “Hey.” Blake grabbed his arm hard. “You’re not coming on his face.” “It’s okay,” Io murmured. “It’s not okay. This isn’t your personal porn movie, it’s real life. You’re not coming on his face.” Their eyes met in the darkness. Blake wasn’t going to back down on this. If Ronnie wanted a fight, he would get one. Ronnie glared. “Fine, on his fucking chest then.” He pushed Blake’s hand away and continued jerking off.

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Blake had lost the perfect position for the simultaneous jerk now. He straddled Io’s hips and put his hand back around their slick cocks, stroking them together, rubbing his thumb over both heads. Io gasped, his hips bucking. His hands slid down Blake’s torso, rubbing at his nipples. Ronnie was ignored. He finished with long spurts down Io’s body then, perhaps because he had been denied the ultimate degradation, he rubbed his semen in, smearing it over Io’s pale skin. Io ignored Ronnie. He arched back, gasping Blake’s name, then Blake’s hand was full, his own cock slippery with come and he continued jerking with the white fluid as lube until he came too. Ronnie watched as though mesmerised. To Blake’s surprise, he ducked his head and started to suck on both their cocks. Blake looked at Io over Ronnie’s head. He was out of breath, his chest heaving. In the dark, Io spared him a small smile and that new feeling tightened Blake’s chest again. Ronnie lifted his head. “He tastes better than you, Blake,” he said, licking his lips. “Kind of sweet.” Blake lay down next to Io. He felt by his side, finding Io’s hand. Io’s fingers curled around Blake’s. He turned to watch as Ronnie clambered naked off the bed and went to get another beer. Io pulled his hand away, got off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Ronnie threw Blake a hefty glare. “What’s your fucking problem? We’re fucking some dirty, diseaseridden whore and you won’t let me come on his face? Christ, he probably expects that shit.” Blake put his arms behind his head, stretching. “I won’t let you degrade and humiliate him even more than we’re already doing.” Ronnie stared at him. “This is coming from the guy who’s forced most of Sin Row to blow him in the interrogation room!” “I never forced anybody.” “Oh right, so blackmail doesn’t count as coercion?” “Shut up.” “Why, does the truth hurt?”

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Blake was silent. Ronnie was right, of course. Just why was he so bothered about what they did to Io? Maybe it was those whispered words. I don’t want to share you. Maybe it was that Io made Blake look inside himself. Io came out of the bathroom. He went to the kitchen area and opened two beers. He brought them both back to the bed, handing one to Blake. “Thanks.” Io slid beneath the thin covers, leaning back against the wall. He looked from Blake to Ronnie. “Well, have you guys finished with me yet? I need to get my beauty sleep.” Ronnie brought his beer over to the bed, his half-hard cock swaying. “You’re joking, aren’t you? I just got started.” He picked the dildo up from the floor and lubed it up before he pushed it into Io’s hand. “Here. I want to watch you fuck yourself.” Io took the dildo obediently. He kicked the covers back, lay down, pulled his knees up and let them flop open. Slowly he pushed the toy inside and Blake watched how he bit his lip, how his body arched. “That’s nice.” Ronnie knelt by Io’s head and pushed his cock into his mouth. Io sucked. He moved the dildo slowly inside himself and Blake watched Io’s cock grow hard. Blake touched himself. He longed to be buried where that dildo was. He moved to kneel between Io’s legs and then took hold of the dildo, pushing Io’s hand away, taking over. Io writhed a little, apparently with excitement. His hard cock bobbed against his belly. Blake stroked it, fondled Io’s balls, then shifted down the bed so he could lie between Io’s legs. While he fucked him with the dildo, he gently licked the delicate skin of his perineum. Io caught his breath. He moaned as Blake traced slow circles around his entrance and then sucked at his balls. He pushed the dildo in all the way, keeping a tight hold on the end. Io shivered. He sucked harder on Ronnie’s cock and lightly probed between his buttocks. Ronnie grabbed the lube. He squirted some onto Io’s fingers and groaned when Io sheathed two inside him. He rocked back against them and forward into Io’s mouth, while Blake watched, jerking off and fucking Io with the dildo. Ronnie looked down at Io. “You know what we’re going to do to you now, don’t you, whore? Now we’ve got you nice and loosened up.” Io stared up at him, not pausing in his sucking. Ronnie grinned at Blake, who felt unsure. Ronnie pulled his dick free. “Move.” He pushed Io over so he had room to lie down. He rolled on a condom. “Sit on me.”

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Io did as he was told. He straddled Ronnie, sinking slowly down on his cock. Ronnie hissed, holding his hips, thrusting up. Kneeling at the end of the bed behind Io, Blake watched Ronnie’s cock breaching Io’s ass. Io rode him, gasping. “Come on, this whore needs more than I can give him,” Ronnie said impatiently. “Rubber up.” “Hey,” Blake said testily. “We only do it if he wants it.” He trailed a hand over Io’s hip and around into his groin, stroking his stiff prick. “Do you?” Io’s head fell back. Blake kissed his throat. Io moaned an assent. “Told you,” Ronnie said. “He can’t get enough cock, can you, Io?” “No,” said Io, increasing his rhythm, shuddering as Ronnie jerked him off. Blake’s hands trembled as he rolled on a condom and covered it with a thick layer of lube. Gently, he pushed Io forward so he lay flat over Ronnie. Hesitating, he watched Ronnie’s cock still shoving into Io. He had never done this most taboo of things before, even though he had thought about it. His fingers were still wet. He pushed one in alongside Ronnie’s cock, listening to Io gasp and moan. “Keep still,” he told Ronnie. Blake held Io by the hip with one hand and guided himself in with the other. It wasn’t an easy entrance but Io didn’t complain. He lay still as he was opened up. Blake got halfway in and that was enough for him. The tightness around him was mind-blowing. He pushed very slowly, his cock sliding wetly against Ronnie’s. He cursed helplessly in pleasure. “Fuck, yeah,” Ronnie groaned. “Fuck him.” Blake held Io’s pert little ass in both hands. He thrust lightly and heard Io’s pants for breath, noticed how his hands, above Ronnie’s shoulders, clutched at the pillow. Ronnie started to thrust up again. “Listen to him,” he told Blake. “He fucking loves it.” Loving it might be an exaggeration. Blake wasn’t sure if Io was the world’s greatest actor or if he was actually enjoying himself. His low whimpers could have been on any end of the pain-pleasure spectrum. Certainly he made noises he didn’t make when he had only one cock inside him. He felt under Io, looking to give him more, delighted to find him still solid. He watched his and Ronnie’s cocks sliding together and he needed to come badly. For a moment he

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imagined being bareback, both of them coming against the other and filling Io full. A truly taboo fantasy. Io started to gasp loudly. “Please…” he moaned almost incoherently. “Please…” A forbidden thrill snaked through Blake’s body, making him even harder, if that were possible. Ronnie’s hands clutched at Io’s hips and he thrust up harder. “Oh, you fucking dirty little slut. You’re the best whore I ever had in my life.” Blake silently agreed. Io’s capacity to satisfy two men at once was limitless and his willingness was without question. He pushed into Io almost all the way. Io cried out. He started to tremble violently, clenching around Blake and Ronnie, then he came, warm fluid coating Blake’s milking hand. Ronnie hissed. He bucked up once more and fell back gasping. Which left Blake. He thrust a few more times against a motionless Io and Ronnie, the orgasm taking him like a tsunami, leaving him almost comatose. After a few moments, he managed to free himself and roll onto his back. Io followed suit. He fell into Blake’s arms, moaning softly and Blake held him close, drifting away.

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Chapter Seven

Io lay asleep on his side in the narrow bed, covers thrown over him. After their third round, even Ronnie had been tired and called it a night. He stood at the kitchen sink drinking a beer in his boxers. “Christ, it’s colder than a witch’s tit in here. Doesn’t this guy have any heat?” He spied the gas heater on the wall opposite the couch and went over. He tried with a few loud clicks to light it unsuccessfully before he gave up. “Fucker doesn’t have any gas. What a fucking shithole this is.” He looked around. “Don’t be so mean,” Blake said. “At least he keeps it clean.” Ronnie sat down on the couch, regarding him sharply. “You’re a little soft on him, aren’t you?” “Don’t be stupid.” Ronnie ignored him. “He’s a freak. Living in this dump, selling his body to anyone who asks, and you want that?” “I said shut up.” Blake stood with back turned, looking through the thin curtain out over the city. “And you think he won’t come running back for more if he knows you’re interested? Christ, we paid him and made him come three times; he must think it’s fucking Christmas. Did you feel how extra hard he comes with two cocks in him?” Blake whirled around. “I swear to God, Ronnie—” “All right, keep your panties on. All I’m saying is—” “And I don’t want to hear what you’re saying. Why don’t you go?” “Don’t worry. I am.” Ronnie put his empty bottle down and started to pull his clothes on. “Come on then.” Blake glanced at the bed. “I’ll stay here a while.” Ronnie frowned. “How are you going to get home?” Blake shrugged. “I’ll walk.” “In this neighbourhood? Jesus.” “I’m not afraid. I have my gun.”

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“Yeah and the criminals here have bigger ones. Fool.” Ronnie went across to the bed and shoved his hand roughly under the pillow. “Come on, fucker, give me the key.” Io grunted and rolled closer to the wall. Ronnie retrieved the key and walked to the box where he handed Blake his gun and holstered his own. Blake put it on the couch. Ronnie pulled his jacket on. “Be seeing you then.” “Yeah.” Ronnie regarded him with something approaching scorn a moment before he closed the door. Blake bolted it behind him. He stood unsure in the middle of the room before he crossed to the bed. Carefully he slid under the thin covers, sliding across into the heat Io radiated. He fitted an arm over Io’s lean hip and held him close, mouth seeking his shoulder, planting a few small kisses. Io stirred. He shivered, looking back over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” “Lying here a while. Do you mind?” Io swallowed audibly. He shook his head. “It’s cold. I’ll keep you warm.” Blake intertwined one leg with Io’s. He rubbed slowly at the sole of one small, cold foot with his own. After a few minutes, as he was drifting off to sleep, he identified the muted sounds coming from the other side of the bed. Io was crying.

**** Blake awoke to wan wintery sunshine. Io was out of bed. He stood in his threadbare robe by the counter, drinking his shitty coffee and watching Blake. “You’re awake then. Haven’t you got a job to go to?” “Good morning to you too.” Blake yawned. “Don’t I get breakfast in bed after the way I serviced you last night?” Io blushed becomingly. Blake was surprised he could even walk that morning. But what Ronnie had said was not in question. Io really did come extra hard with two cocks inside him. Just thinking about it aroused Blake. Io opened his cupboard. The tin of beans was gone. He glanced in the fridge. “I have a slice of bread and some butter.”

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“I’m good, thanks.” What exactly did this guy survive on? Blake climbed from the bed, his morning wood at half-mast in his boxers. He pulled on his pants. “I’ll take you out for something.” Io looked startled. “No, it’s okay.” “Why not?” “Because if I’m seen with a cop—” “Get over it,” Blake said brusquely. He fastened his shirt, then retrieved his belt and holstered his gun. A loud banging at the door made Io jump. “Shit, get in the bathroom.” Blake glared but allowed himself to be pushed into the bathroom. He drew his gun, waiting as Io opened the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” It was the dulcet tones of George Bentley. “I’ll b-be right out, just finishing my coffee.” Io sounded scared. “And what about last night? I get there at five-thirty only to be told you left with two fucking cops and then you didn’t come back for the rest of the night.” “Look, they paid me. It was a private arrangement—” “Private? You work for me, Io. You’re mine. Think you can just keep my money? It doesn’t work like that.” “Please, George, let me keep it. Just this one time. I can’t cover the rent this month—” A sharp crack sounded through the air. “You fucking stupid little twat.” Blake shoved the door open. He went out, gun raised. Bentley cowered back against the front door, hands in the air. Io stood holding a scarlet cheek. “I thought you understood me after our little chat, George?” Blake asked. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. Io’s going to keep the money because he worked very hard for it and you’re going to take your skinny ass back to the street. You’re going to go to all your whores and wish them good morning and then you’re going to give them all twenty bucks each and tell them to go get breakfast, on you.” He prodded George in one cheek with the gun. “Do you get me?” George, his black eyes mutinous with hatred, nodded. “Good boy. I’ll be down shortly and believe me, I’ll ask every hooker what they ate this morning. If they didn’t eat breakfast on you, I’ll come looking for you and you’ll be sorry. Get the fuck out of here.”

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George fumbled the door open, turned and fled. Blake slammed it behind him and bolted it. “What the fuck are you doing?” Io cried, his cheek flaming. Blake shrugged. “Sticking up for you. Someone has to.” He pulled on his jacket. “Let’s go to breakfast.” “I don’t need your misguided attempts at playing hero! You’re a cop and you’re not to be trusted. You and your partner paid me for sex. You tell my pimp he doesn’t own me and then you act like you own me! He’s going to fucking kill me when he gets his hands on me. Get out of here, I never want to see you again!” Blake regarded him a moment. Io was flushed, the right side of his face flaming where he’d been slapped, his dark green eyes flashing. Blake stepped forward. “Look—” “Get out!” “Ungrateful little shit. It’s better to be my friend than my enemy.” Io stared at him, perhaps shocked that Blake had gone from conciliation to threats. Blake shoved his feet into his shoes. He threw one last angry look at Io before he unbolted the door and slammed it behind him.

Io sat down on the couch, pulling his robe around him and trying to warm his hands on his rapidly cooling mug. What the fuck had he done last night? Fucked two bent cops and made an enemy of George into the bargain. Just because his cock ruled his head when it came to Blake didn’t mean he should have let the fucker stay all night, holding him as though Io meant something to him. As though he wasn’t just another whore Blake fucked on a regular basis. Then there was Ronnie too, Ronnie who clearly was so enamoured by the fucking that he would be back for more. His mind strayed back to Blake. Blake, whose every touch had seemed gentle and measured. Blake, who had refused to let Ronnie come on his face. As though Io was a real person whose feelings mattered. He squeezed his eyes shut. What the fuck was he going to do?

Blake walked to Police Plaza, throwing a hefty glare at George Bentley when he saw him deep in conversation with a gaggle of hookers, his wallet out.

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His mind whirled with erotic images from the night before, while his conscience pricked at something else. Io crying while Blake held him.

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Chapter Eight

Blake couldn’t forget the night they had spent with Io. Io had clearly enjoyed himself with both men but Blake could hardly fail to notice that he'd had a better time with him. Io had trembled at Blake’s touch, he shuddered all over when Blake pressed his lips to his throat or his chest, he cried out when Blake was sheathed inside him. But neither he nor Ronnie had kissed Io, and that weighed on Blake’s thoughts. What would it be like to crush those soft, pink lips with his own as Io’s lean body writhed beneath him? Such a taboo thought. Whores didn’t kiss. Everybody knew that. Ronnie teased him mercilessly for a few days about staying the night with Io before he let it go. Blake told him he’d had to mark George Bentley’s card for the second time but Ronnie didn’t seem that interested. He only told Blake that Io could look out for himself and it was none of their business. Blake didn’t feel that way. Murdered whores turned up on Sin Row on a regular basis and more often than not the culprit was never found. Not that the good officers of the city worked those cases particularly hard. If a pimp had enough cash he could usually close the case as soon as it was opened. Their patrols took them to other areas of the stinking city but finally, after a week, they were back on Sin Row. Ronnie drove while Blake looked out of the window and imagined every lean male body he saw was Io. “Shall we go back and tap our favourite whore again?” Ronnie asked. Blake shook his head. “We’ll make trouble for him with his pimp.” “I don’t give a shit about his fucking pimp. If he becomes that much of a problem we can make him disappear. Jesus, I can’t forget that night.” Blake stayed silent. He would just love to make George disappear. “Come on, let’s do it,” Ronnie persisted. “Not now, we’ve work to do.” “Killjoy. I’m hard just thinking about him.” Blake looked out of the window. For the sake of his own torn feelings, he prayed they wouldn’t encounter Io that day. No such luck.

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“There he is.” Ronnie pulled over by the kerb and shouted across Blake. “Hey, gorgeous.” Io, who shivered in a thin shirt as usual, scowled down at them both. “Go away.” “You’re under arrest for soliciting, Io. Get in the goddamn car.” “Fuck off, you haven’t seen me do anything.” “Get in the car or so help me I’ll come out there and get you.” Io’s gaze lingered on Blake a moment as though he hoped he would come to his aid but Blake stayed silent. Io wrenched the back door open and climbed in. Ronnie set off, grinning to himself. “Where shall we do this?” “I’m not fucking you, asshole, I’ve money to make,” Io shouted from the backseat. Ronnie turned the radio up to drown him out. He engaged the back door locks. “Look, just let him out,” Blake said. He turned up the heating to warm Io. “Fuck that. I want him. Let’s go down to the docks. Lots of quiet places to fuck around there.” The docks were an extension of Sin Row. With ships bringing in contraband on a regular basis, the place was crawling with thieves and junkies. Police presence was low unless it benefited the officers in some way to be there. Io continued shouting from the back as Ronnie pulled up in front of a derelict building with a demolition notice on it. He switched off the engine, got out and dragged Io from the backseat. As Blake got out, they continued to struggle until Ronnie cuffed Io. “Move.” Ronnie shoved him forward. “Ronnie.” Ronnie shot him a warning look. “Either stay out here or join in, Blake. Your choice.” Blake followed. To stay out here was not an option. He was afraid that this time Ronnie intended to hurt Io. The interior of the warehouse was dark and dingy. The narrow corridor opened into a giant room. Ronnie let Io go, bent and fumbled at something. A moment later, a candle sputtered to life. There was a line of them and Ronnie lit them all so the open space was illuminated. A couple of sacks of something had been thrown on the floor. A long chain hung from the ceiling. Ronnie grinned at the expression on Blake’s face. “Yeah, I’ve been here before. Great place for privacy.”

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He pushed Io beneath the chain then dragged his arms above his head, cuffing him to it. Io started to yell, pulling at the chain. He swung in the air, the toes of his shoes just touching the ground. “All right, come here.” Blake grabbed Ronnie by the collar and pulled him outside the candles’ glow, out of Io’s earshot. “What the fuck are you doing? You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” Ronnie pushed him back. “Why do you say that?” “Because you bring him to some place that looks like the set of a fucking snuff movie and chain him to the goddamn ceiling. What am I supposed to think?” Ronnie laughed. “Come on, I’m just having some fun. Don’t you think the fear’ll turn him on? Haven’t you thrived on that for years when you’ve arrested whores from the Row?” Blake stared at him. “This isn’t me, Ronnie. Dirty warehouses and chains. I get a quick blowjob in the interrogation room and that’s enough for me. I don’t want this.” Ronnie put an arm around him. “You don’t have to worry. Your beloved Io is in the safest of hands.” He winked before he stepped beyond the lines of candles again. “So, Io, ready to get fucked?” “Not here and not by you!” Io cried, yanking at the chain. Ronnie clicked his tongue. “And we had such fun the other night too.” Swiftly he unfastened Io’s pants and dragged them down along with his boxers. Io tried to kick him and Ronnie slapped him sharply on the ass. “Stop that.” He grabbed Io by the hips and spun him around to face Blake. “Look how hard he is.” And it was true, Io was. But his face was filled with the bitterest of anger that seemed to be reserved for Blake. Blake turned his head away. Ronnie pulled him back to face him. His hand encircled Io’s cock and started to jerk slowly. “Stop.” Ronnie ignored him. He pulled Io’s shirt open and although Blake couldn’t see, he guessed Ronnie twisted his nipples, by the way Io jerked on the chain. Silently, Blake moved around so he was standing behind Ronnie and could watch. He was reluctantly hard; he couldn’t help that.

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Ronnie ran his hands up and down Io’s torso. He got to his knees and started to suck Io off. Io moaned helplessly, twisting on the chain, his eyes on Blake. Soon he started to gasp, head back. Blake walked behind him. He unfastened himself and pressed his hard cock to Io’s back, looking over his shoulder so he could watch Ronnie sucking. Io caught his breath. He pushed back against Blake. Blake gripped his hips. He rested his cock in the cleft of Io’s cheeks, rubbing slowly. Ronnie sucked at Io’s balls, looking up at Blake. “I’ll let you fuck him first if you want.” He threw Blake a packet of lube. Blake caught it. He pressed his lips to Io’s ear. “Do you want me to fuck you?” Io panted for breath as Ronnie enclosed his cock again, sucking swiftly. “Yes.” Blake had a condom in his wallet and was quick to put it on. He covered it with lube then guided himself between Io’s cheeks, rubbing, pressing. With knees bent, he thrust in. Io cried out. Ronnie stood up. He unfastened himself and stood face to face with Io, watching him as Blake fucked him. He tried to kiss him and Io turned his face away. Ronnie grabbed him by the chin. “Hey, don’t you kiss?” “No.” Ronnie’s lip curled. He forced Io’s hand around him and Io jerked him off. “Hurry up,” he told Blake. Blake panted, holding Io’s hips, thrusting into delicious warmth. “Shut up.” Ronnie smiled. He walked around behind Blake. Blake felt Ronnie’s cock pressing against his ass. “Want to make a train?” Ronnie asked in his ear. “No.” During the night they had spent with Io, Ronnie had been too interested in Io to turn his attentions to Blake. Now it seemed he had room for both men. “Come on.” “I don’t get fucked.” “You don’t? Why not?” A wet finger stroked his entrance. “Stop.” “Why don’t you get fucked?” “I do the fucking.” Ronnie cackled.

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Io looked back over his shoulder, obviously interested in the debate. Blake didn’t break his stride in fucking him. “Now you’re just being selfish. I let you have him first and this is the thanks I get. Let me open up your tight ass.” Ronnie’s finger speared him. Blake flinched in shock. “I said no.” Blake felt around Io’s hip and circled his cock, jerking him off. Io moaned loudly, close to climax. Blake mouthed his neck, trying to ignore the finger stroking his prostate. Ronnie bent and retrieved the half-empty lube packet off the ground. “Okay, then I’m just going to rub myself here.” Blake felt the slick, wet slide of Ronnie’s cock between the top of his thighs, brushing his balls. He couldn’t help but shudder and thrust harder into Io. Ronnie moved higher. His lubed cock slid between Blake’s cheeks, rubbing smoothly against his entrance. Blake caught his breath. The wet slickness was tantalising. He felt his entrance giving under pressure. Blake moaned. He held Io hard, his rhythm punishing. Io tightened steadily around him, crying out, swinging on the chain so Blake fought to keep him still. Ronnie grunted in Blake’s ear. The head of his cock breached his ass. Blake cursed loudly and tried to pull away. “Condom,” he gasped. “Don’t you worry.” Ronnie withdrew. He continued to rub himself slickly between Blake’s cheeks. But Blake was overwhelmed now. The sting of penetration had been too good. He wanted it. He found himself swaying back against Ronnie’s cock after every thrust into Io. Io trembled violently against him. He panted Blake’s name and Blake sped up the motion of his hand. At the same time Io spilled over his fingers, Ronnie groaned behind him. Blake felt hot liquid spurt between his cheeks and over his ass. Ronnie bit him on the neck. After resting a moment, he walked around to the front of Io and released him from the chains. Io fell to the ground and Blake groaned as he was wrenched free. “Come here.” Ronnie grabbed Blake and pulled him over to the sacks on the ground. “Get down here.” He pushed him down on his face and Blake, desperate to come, didn’t argue. “Get up, my little whore.” Ronnie dragged Io to his feet and forced him down on his knees behind Blake. “I want to see you clean my partner up and make him come.”

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Blake looked over his shoulder a moment before Io spread him open and started to eat him out. He cursed, groaning, seconds away from climax, the heated tongue swiping away the deposit Ronnie had left. Ronnie stood behind them. “Smile for the camera.” “What the fuck are you doing?” Blake looked over his shoulder to see Ronnie holding his cell phone. “Just getting some memories of my two favourite men doing my favourite thing.” Ronnie grinned. Io didn’t pause in his task. He licked Blake faster and faster until Blake couldn’t take any more. He put his hand around his cock and jerked himself into oblivion. In the aftermath, Io got to his feet and dragged his pants up. Blake rolled onto his back and lay there a moment on the sacks like a beached whale. Ronnie, fully dressed, regarded him with amusement. “Come on. A tongue in your ass and you’re anybody’s.” He pulled Blake to his feet. Blake glanced at Io. Io rubbed the red, chafed areas on his wrists and Blake looked away guiltily. “Let’s get this whore back on the streets.” Ronnie put an arm around Io. “That was an abridged version, by the way, because we’re busy. Next time we bring you, we’re going to stay here and fuck you day and night while you hang from that chain.” He tucked some bills into Io’s pocket. Io shrugged away from him. He walked out to the police car. Ronnie turned to grin at Blake with his eyes sparkling. Blake ignored him. He got into the car and fastened his seat belt. Io sat sullenly in the back as Ronnie started the engine and pulled away from the warehouse. Blake pulled his sun visor down. Looking in the mirror, he watched Io, trying to catch his eye. Io’s gaze strayed to his. Blake held it steadily. He reached behind his seat with his right hand, trying to touch Io’s leg. He was shocked when, after a few seconds, fingers touched his lightly. Blake closed his hand around Io’s and held it.

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Chapter Nine

Blake caught Ronnie a few days later in the staff canteen, engrossed in a big plate of lasagne. Blake put down his tray, sipped his juice and thought a moment. “Look, let’s cut it out now. We need to leave him alone.” Ronnie frowned. “Who, Io? I don’t think so. I just got started having fun with that whore. The possibilities are endless.” A dirty smirk appeared on his face. “Wouldn’t it be great to make a movie of me and you fucking him?” “No.” Ronnie glared. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know you want him all to yourself.” Blake shook his head. “I’m not touching him again.” “Bullshit.” “I mean it. He’s going to get us into a whole heap of trouble, I just know it.” “Think I’m scared of his two-bit pimp? Fuck him.” “I mean it, Ronnie. We need to stop.” Ronnie ate a mouthful of lasagne and talked around it. “You can stop. I’m going to fuck him till my dick drops off.” Blake got up and left him to his lunch.

**** Blake found Io on Sin Row, just climbing from the front seat of a black Cadillac holding a fistful of cash. He tramped away looking weary, a hood pulled over his head. Blake cruised him for a short distance before Io noticed, glancing over his shoulder. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed. Blake frowned and wound the window down. “Get in.” “Fuck off.” Io turned into a back street, walking swiftly. Blake parked and got out, returning the stares of the hookers on the kerb. He ran to catch up with Io. “Wait up.” He caught his arm.

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“Get the hell off me.” Io shrugged away. “Just wait, I want to talk to you.” Blake dragged him to a halt. He yanked the hood down and revealed livid finger marks around Io’s neck. “What the fuck?” “My client pays extra for it,” Io said sullenly. “Mind your own fucking business.” “It’s my business if he fucking chokes you! Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with you?” Io thrust his face into his, yelling. “It’s called making a fucking living, Officer! Keeping my shithole roof over me and food in my belly.” “You don’t look like you ever eat. Do you spend it on drugs?” Io’s green eyes narrowed. “I don’t take drugs.” “Don’t you? You must be the only whore on the Row who doesn’t.” “I don’t give a shit what you believe. I’m telling you for the last time, leave me the fuck alone.” “Look, I just came to make sure you were okay. I wanted to tell you that Ronnie isn’t going to bother you anymore.” Io regarded him with one brow arched. “And you, Officer, are you going to bother me?” Blake put a hand on his arm. “Blake,” he said quietly. “No, I’m not going to bother you. Just keep your head down and I won’t have to arrest you.” He turned and started to walk away. He only got a few steps before he stopped with a sigh. Turning to face Io, he swiftly covered the distance between them, grabbed Io by the back of his bruised neck and drew him into a heated kiss. Io gasped. He clutched the front of Blake’s uniform. His tongue found Blake’s. They stumbled against the wall, furiously lip-locked, the kiss not breaking. Blake was out of his mind with desire. He didn’t care that he was kissing a whore on a back street in Sin Row during the middle of the day. He only knew he had never had a kiss like this in his life. Io’s soft mouth invaded all his senses and sent him spinning out of control. If it had been dark, he would have turned Io to the wall and taken him, he was sure of it. He drew back, fingers pressed to his lips. Io stared at him, mouth kiss-swollen and pink. Without a word he turned on his heel and walked away. Blake cursed under his breath and set off back to his car.

****

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“Io’s in the interrogation room,” Ronnie said with a smirk as he entered the locker room. “Want to pull some overtime taking down his particulars?” Blake paused in the act of unfastening his shirt. He had been on his way home, Io’s kiss still stinging his lips. Was he going to leave Io to Ronnie? “Look, I told you—” “I don’t care what you told me. I want to fuck that sweet ass of his.” “Count me out.” “Fine. I never did like sharing.” Ronnie let the door slam shut after him. Blake leaned his head against his locker. He thought of Io bent over the interrogation room desk, pert white ass on display, just begging to be fucked. His resolve wavered. He was only a man and when men like Io were around, he had no chance.

**** As he reached the interrogation room, he heard the pants and moans. He tried the door, expecting it to be locked but no, Ronnie the shameless exhibitionist had left it open. Blake swung it open to be confronted with Io facedown on the table, being pummelled by Ronnie. “You didn’t mess about.” Blake closed the door. “He didn’t need foreplay. He virtually begged me for it.” Blake glanced at Io. He was flushed and gasping for breath, his hand beneath himself, jerking off. “He’s making too much noise,” Ronnie said. “Why don’t you plug him up?” Blake climbed onto the table, kneeling in front of Io. He unzipped, withdrew himself and guided his cock into Io’s mouth. Io took it without complaint. “Yeah,” Ronnie said, thrusting harder. “I love spit-roasting a guy.” Blake hadn’t done as many threeways in his life as he would have liked but he silently agreed with Ronnie. It was hot. He probably would have liked to have been the guy on the end of it too. Just not with Ronnie doing the fucking. He held Io’s head in his hands and let Ronnie’s thrusts drive Io’s mouth up and down his cock. Io moaned around it, mouth slick with saliva, while he jerked himself off. Blake looked down into his face. Io met his gaze and that was when Blake saw it. A certain softness in the dark green eyes. The memory of the kiss.

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He was shaken. What was going on here? This was casual fucking, wasn’t it? Surely finer feelings weren’t getting involved? Blake had learned long ago to think with his cock and not his heart. Thinking with your heart only got you into all kinds of trouble. He pulled his cock out of Io’s sucking mouth, knelt watching Ronnie fuck him. Then he got off the table and stood by Io and Ronnie, lazily jerking off. He reached beneath Io and fondled his balls while Io jerked off. Then he moved behind Ronnie and fondled his balls too. Ronnie’s tight little buttocks clenched as Blake stroked them, but he didn’t pause in his thrusting. He looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” “Playing with your ass the way you played with mine.” Ronnie groaned. He spread his legs wantonly. “Hurry up, I’m nearly there.” A tube of lube lay on the table. Blake took it, squeezed some on his fingers and then looked down at his own belt, thinking. He withdrew his baton and extended it. “What? Jesus, you kinky bastard.” Ronnie grunted as Blake lubed up the first few inches. He pressed it into Ronnie without warning and Ronnie hissed and cursed. “Fuck…fuck…” Blake fucked him swiftly with it. He jerked off while he watched Ronnie’s cock disappearing into Io. Ronnie was noisier than Io. He moaned steadily, trembling and shaking. He slapped Io on the ass, fucked him harder and faster. Then he came, thrusting jerkily, crying out, falling forward across Io’s back. Blake pulled his baton free and dropped it. As Ronnie eased himself out, Blake pushed him away from the table. He pulled Io up, turned him around and lifted him onto the edge before he sank to his knees, taking Io’s cock in his mouth. Io gripped his hair hard, bucking. Blake jerked himself off, listening to Io’s moans. He pushed two fingers between Io’s legs into his wet warmth and Io convulsed, spurting into Blake’s mouth. Blake swallowed him down. He stood up to kiss Io hard and Io pulled him close, grabbed his cock and jerked Blake to a swift climax over the front of his shirt. Blake buried his face in Io’s neck and held him, floating away on the aftermath of orgasm. Ronnie dressed himself with a loud zip. “Thought you didn’t kiss anyone, whore?” Blake turned his head with a sharp glare. “He kisses me. Why don’t you go and wash my baton in some soapy water?”

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Ronnie regarded him a moment with an angry expression before he let himself out of the room. Io hid his face against Blake’s chest. “I thought you said—” “I know. I’m a liar. What’s a man supposed to do when he walks through the door and sees you spread-eagled on the table?” “And him?” “I’ll speak to him again. He’ll get bored with you soon enough.” “And you?” Io lifted his head, fixing him with a piercing green stare. “Will you get bored with me?” Blake traced his cheek with light fingertips. “It’s not looking like it.” Io shook his head. “You can’t…we can’t…” Blake pulled him closer. “I know it.”

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Chapter Ten

Ronnie slammed two beers on the table. “Right. Out with it.” Blake took one and drank. “What?” “You kissed him and he kissed you back!” Blake ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Really I don’t.” “You don’t get soft on a fucking whore, Blake!” “I know.” “Then knock it off.” Blake sighed. He sat back and looked around the bar. On the edge of Sin Row, they were just asking for trouble drinking here but Ronnie didn’t give a fuck. A man glared at Blake from the bar, a pimp he’d arrested more than once. “It’s not that easy. I want him.” “I know that. I want him too, just not in the sloppy romantic way you clearly want him.” Blake glared. “It’s not like that.” “What’s it like then? You warned me off. You told me neither of us should touch him again and then you’re in there again like a shot. You don’t actually think he’s interested in anything other than the money in your wallet, do you?” Blake’s jaw tightened. He picked at the label on his beer bottle. “If you want to fuck him, fuck him. Fuck the rest of that shit.” Blake knew now why Ronnie was a confirmed bachelor. He wasn’t sure Ronnie had ever cared about anyone in his life. While Blake, he had learned the hard way not to care. After men had used him, abused him and betrayed him. All he knew was life in this filthy, corrupt city, dealing with the dregs of humanity day in and day out. He had once thought Io fit into this category. Not any longer. He glanced up as the pimp from the bar stalked towards their table, his face belligerent. “Didn’t you guys see the sign on the door? No pigs allowed.” Ronnie drew himself out of his chair, standing several inches taller than the pimp. “My friend and I are having a quiet drink. We’re not looking to break any faces tonight, but if you insist…”

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The pimp threw a punch. Ronnie ducked and sent the man crashing into a nearby table with a swing of his own. The pimp fell amongst glass and broken plates and got up, livid with rage. Another man piled in. Ronnie dispatched him too. Blake sighed. He took another drink of beer before he waded in. The fight moved out onto the street, Ronnie and Blake versus the patrons of the bar. Ronnie fought dirty. He grabbed balls and nearly twisted them off. He gouged his thumbs into men’s eyes. Some butch hooker from the Row even joined in, whacking Blake over the back of his head with her handbag. Two guys wrestled Blake to the ground. They kicked him in the ribs and the face while he tried to crawl back to his feet. A gunshot split the night, stopping all action instantly. The men backed away from Blake. Ronnie stood holding his gun, surveying the group of people standing around him. Blake had left his own weapon in the glove box of his car. He was thankful Ronnie never went anywhere without his. “Listen up, you scum,” Ronnie shouted to anyone who would listen. “Consider this advance notice. You want a war, you’ve got a fucking war.” He gestured curtly to Blake. Blake followed him hurriedly to his car at the back of the bar while Ronnie kept his gun carefully trained on the people behind them. “Jesus Christ,” Blake said as he slipped into the car. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Dirty Harry? I thought you were going to ask all those people to go ahead and make your fucking day!” Ronnie grinned. “I thought about it.” As he started the engine, a bullet shattered the back window. Blake yelled and slid down in his seat. “Motherfuckers!” Ronnie growled, backing up and turning around on squealing tyres. He tore out of the alley, narrowly missing a passing car, shooting out of his window as he peeled away. Blake recognised a face in the crowd. George Bentley, Io’s pimp. Blake had never been scared of the scum bags on Sin Row but having Ronnie stand there and declare a war put a different slant on things. From now on, all cops would be sitting targets.

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**** Blake dressed in the locker room next morning with a strange sense of impending doom. Ronnie had opened up a can of worms the night before. How were the residents of Sin Row going to deal with it? He and Ronnie drank some coffee in the briefing room. Ronnie was cheerful and unconcerned about the previous night. He would charge the department for the back window of his car even though he hadn’t been driving a squad vehicle. They were given Sin Row as patrol and Blake groaned while Ronnie rubbed his hands. “Bring it on.” Their patrol car was parked at the farthest corner of the parking lot, overlooking the main road. Ronnie stopped a moment, resting his coffee on the top of the car, half a doughnut in his mouth, fumbling for his keys. The chill wind whistled down Blake’s neck. “Come on.” Ronnie muttered something around his doughnut, found the keys, jammed them in the lock of the ancient, battered patrol car. Blake glanced up as a car came peeling down the road. He frowned, watching one window open. Ronnie half-turned to look at the noise but it was already too late. An assault rifle peppered their patrol car with holes. Blake threw himself to the ground, shielded by his side of the car, yelling for Ronnie. He crawled to the back, peering around one tyre. A blood-stained hand lay in his view, the keys still clenched in it.

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Chapter Eleven

Reprisals were swift in the wake of Ronnie’s murder. Riot police rolled into Sin Row and arrested all the usual suspects. They beat those who questioned them and used pepper spray to break up knots of people hanging around. Stuck at the precinct for questioning, Blake didn’t have time to warn Io they were coming. By the time Blake got to Sin Row, the place was a battleground, shots fired across the street, the air thick with choking gas. He got out of his car, protecting himself with a mask. He drew his gun, walking carefully down the street, making sure the riot police didn’t mistake him for anybody else. Police vans lined the road, lights flashing as bodies were dragged into them. Up ahead, a lean figure in a black T-shirt was yanked from the pavement. Struggling fiercely, he was held by the neck, both arms twisted behind him, yelling as he was marched forward. Blake stood watching with his heart sinking.

**** Io sat sullenly in the corner of the cell, knees drawn up to his chest. Around him, other prisoners jabbered at each other and hurled abuse at the custody sergeant. Blake pointed him out to the sergeant. “Him. I’ll take him upstairs to the interrogation room.” Io’s head jerked up as the sergeant unlocked the door and gestured to him. His gaze settled on Blake. He stepped around his fellow prisoners to get out. “What the hell happened?” he demanded as soon as Blake closed the door behind them. “Christ, you people decimated the Row this morning.” “Ronnie was killed in a drive-by earlier today.” Io stared. “Oh, fuck.” Blake sat. Ronnie’s death still hadn’t hit him. Io hovered behind him a moment before he leant down, embracing him with one arm, chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” “We caused some trouble last night.” “I know. George was shouting about it today. Threatening to kill you all. And me.”

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Blake clenched his fist. “I swear to God, if he touches you again, he’s a dead man.” Io’s arm tightened. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle him. But you can’t come down there anymore, Blake. It’s too dangerous for both of us.” Blake put a hand up. He stroked Io’s fingers. It was the first time Blake had Io in the interrogation room and didn’t have him. His fellow officers must have wondered why the walls weren’t shaking. He let Io go, watching from the window as he walked slowly away. Ronnie had been his partner for five years. A guy Blake felt closer to than any other on the force. Suddenly his life had been snuffed out, leaving Blake bitter and alone. Only one thing mattered to him now and that was keeping Io safe.

**** Blake waited until eleven that night before he ventured onto Sin Row. He didn’t expect to see any of the hookers out earning a living so he drove straight to Io’s place. He carried his gun although he was out of uniform. It would be foolish not to. He climbed the festering stairs in near darkness to the fourth floor and knocked. After a few moments, the safety chain rattled and the door opened an inch. “Jesus, what are you doing?” “Let me in, Io.” Io closed the door. The safety chain rattled again and he stood back to allow Blake inside. He wore nothing but a pair of pyjama pants. “You’re fucking crazy.” Blake bolted the door and put the chain on. The only light in the apartment came from a single candle on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, I know, but I had to see you.” “Why? What’s so important that you turn up at this time when—” Blake marched across the room. “This.” He grabbed Io and kissed him hungrily with all the desperation still left inside him. Io acted stunned for only a moment before he started to wrench at Blake’s clothes, returning his kiss. Blake lifted him in his arms, walked the few steps across the living room and threw him down on the bed. Io wriggled out of his pants quickly, chest heaving with excitement, cock hard. He pulled Blake onto him, kissing him and Blake fumbled in his wallet for a condom. He lifted

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Io’s legs around his back and thrust inside and Io hissed, grabbed his back, nails digging in, pelvis lifting to meet his. He was loud as always, begging for more, legs tight around Blake, mouth on his. And Blake drowned in his body just like always. It felt like this would never be enough. That he would never stop needing this from Io. Io came, spurting across their chests and Blake soon followed, his weight dropping onto his lover. Io moaned softly beneath him. His mouth found Blake’s, devoured it once more. Blake rolled onto his side. He gathered Io to him and slept.

**** Loud banging woke them both. Blake blinked, reached for his boxers, then his gun. Io scrambled off the bed and pulled on his robe. He looked at Blake with terror on his pale face. He went to the door. Blake put a reassuring hand on his shoulder a moment before he drew back into the shadows of the bathroom doorway. Io opened the door. Before Blake could react, Io was shoved face first into the wall, a shower of crimson erupting. Blake charged forward but it was already too late. George Bentley stood with a gun to the back of Io’s head. “Well, well, well, Officer.” He smirked. “What an unexpected pleasure. I have some business to discuss with my whore here. If you’ll excuse us.” Blake’s hand tightened around his own gun, safety off, finger on the trigger. “Put the gun down.” “Before you even move, I’ll have blown his head off, so why don’t we all calm down? Hand your gun to me, Officer.” Io braced his hands against the wall, cursing George. George poked him with the gun. “Shut up, you little slut. The gun, Officer, I’m waiting.” Blake flicked the safety back on. He handed the gun by the barrel to George. “Good man. Now let’s sit down and have a chat.” He shoved Blake’s gun into the waist of his pants.

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Blake moved to stand by the couch. George dragged Io away from the wall and thrust him down on the couch. His mouth and nose ran blood in streams down his pale torso. He wiped his hand across them, smearing it. “Christ. Here.” George threw a hanky at him. “Now then. I came to see you, Io, to discuss this unpleasant business and lo and behold, I arrive and you’re actually committing more of it as we speak.” “I’m not doing it for money anymore,” Io said. “It’s private.” George arched a brow, looking at Blake who glared back sullenly. “Excuse me? You mean you’re fucking him because…you want to?” “Yes.” “Saints preserve us.” George made the sign of the cross. “Io, my deluded little boy, he’s a cop. He’s scum of the earth. He’d sell his own mother to the devil for a blowjob.” “Hey.” “You mean I’m wrong?” George stared at Blake stonily. “You know fuck all about me.” “I know everything I need to know about you by the badge you wear. You think us residents of the Row are the lowest form of life on earth? Well, you’re wrong. It’s you. Now how much do I need to give you to leave Io alone?” Blake shook his head. “Not going to happen. How much do I need to give you to leave him alone?” George threw back his head and laughed. “Io’s ass is for sale to the highest bidder. I, however, am not.” “That’s a shame. What do you suggest we do? Carve him up between us like the piece of meat you obviously think he is?” As Blake was speaking, Io lunged off the couch, going for the gun. Blake yelled and the gun went off. George and Io fell to the floor. The gun slid across the floor and Io grabbed Blake’s gun from George’s waistband. As George came for him, fist raised, Io shot him in the chest. George fell back, gurgling noisily. Blake scrambled for the other gun and held it over him, watching. “Fuck, what have I done?” Io asked in horror. He slumped against the couch, face drained of colour, holding his left shoulder.

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Blake stared at him. “Are you hurt?” “I’m okay.” But blood ran between his fingers and he winced in pain. “Shit.” Blake stepped over George’s body. He rushed into the bathroom and found a towel, which he wadded up. He pressed it against the wound, forcing Io’s fingers over it. “Come on, let’s get you both to a hospital.” He supported Io under one arm, helping him to his feet. “Too late for that, he’s dead.” Blake bent to check a pulse. He thought for a moment, biting his lip. “Oh shit, I’m going to the chair,” Io wailed. “No, you’re not.” Blake looked around. In the corner under the clothes rail was a duffel bag. He started to stuff clothes into it. “What are you doing?” “You’re running away.” “What?” “We’ll go to the hospital and when you’re patched up, we’ll take off.” “We? You’re going to go on the run with me?” Blake shrugged as though he did this sort of thing every day, when in reality, his heart hammered with adrenaline and the rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop. To arrest Io for murder and take him in. “Sure.” Io moaned. “Christ, you’re out of your mind.” “I know. Come on. Put your arm around me.” They limped down the stairs to Blake’s car. After a short stop at his house, where Blake threw clothes and food into a bag, he drove onto the freeway and headed out of the city. He didn’t look back.

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Chapter Twelve

Blake took Io to a hospital some fifty miles outside the city. Once they’d checked in, they were taken to a cubicle where Io was examined by a doctor. As Blake had expected, he needed to stay at the hospital, but they couldn’t afford that. Plus, all gunshot wounds were reported to the police. Blake and Io would be discovered and Io arrested. He bided his time until Io was dressed in a blue hospital gown and settled in bed in a double room. He was drowsy from painkillers, a saline drip running into his arm, his shoulder thickly bandaged. The other patient was slumbering. “Io,” Blake whispered, sitting by his bed, holding his hand. “We have to leave.” Io seemed to struggle to open his eyes. “Leave me here,” he said. “It’s okay.” “Not a chance. Come on.” Blake reached up and switched off the drip before disconnecting it. He pulled the sheet back and helped Io sit up, taking his robe from the locker by his bed. Finding it too blood-stained to wear, Blake wrapped Io in a hospital blanket and helped him to his feet. Io swayed unsteadily, his steps out into the corridor like those of a drunkard. Blake found a wheelchair, guided Io into it and hurried to the elevator as fast as he could. Io lolled back in the chair, asleep. They made it to the front doors unmolested and Blake wandered around the dark parking lot until he found his car. He bundled the limp Io into the front seat, wrapped the blanket tighter around him and jumped in his own side. As he drove away, his conscience pricked at him. Io needed fluid and antibiotics. Blake shouldn’t have taken him from the hospital.

**** Io finally stirred late next morning. Blake lay next to him in bed, an arm over him, his face against Io’s non-injured shoulder. A pale sun shone through the thin curtains of the motel he had picked. Io blinked a moment, looking at Blake. Blake lifted his head, pushed some dark hair out of Io’s eyes. “How’re you doing there?” “Okay.”

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“That’s good. Any pain?” “A little.” “I stopped at the pharmacy last night. Bought you the strongest thing I could. I’ll get you some now. And I got bandages and stuff. I took your IV out. It didn’t bleed too much.” Their gazes held steadily. “You know I had to take you from the hospital, right?” Blake said anxiously. “They would have caught you.” “I know.” “You’re not mad at me?” “No.” Io lifted one hand. Slowly he traced Blake’s cheek in the most tender gesture he had ever used. He smiled. “You’re not the bad man I thought you were. Just goes to show, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” A hesitant smile spread across Blake’s face. It had been so long, it felt alien to him. He leant down and kissed Io, allowing the warmth of his rising feelings to consume him and give him hope. The world was in ruins, but from the ashes, Blake believed he could build something new.

About the Author

Scarlet likes cats and hats and firmly believes that the only thing better than one attractive man is two attractive men. Email: [email protected] Scarlet loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Scarlet Blackwell The Captain’s Man Stand and Deliver

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