Fire and Flint

by Andrew Grey

  Jordan slid his briefs lower, and all thought slipped away. “I feel kind of….”

  “You’re wonderful.” Pierre couldn’t stand it any longer. He pounced, tugging Jordan back. He toppled onto the bed, bringing Jordan with him, kissing the little minx as he cupped his butt inside those briefs and slid them lower.

  “No, I’m not. I’m….”

  Pierre pulled his hands back, running his palms over Jordan’s cheeks. “Please don’t argue with me right now. I know what I see, and I see you for who you are. You have amazing eyes that I want to sink into every time you look at me, and so help me God, you shimmying in front of me….” He held Jordan tighter, propelling him farther back onto the bed until Pierre hovered over him. “I want you, Jordan, just you.” He kissed away his doubt, or tried to, and soon Jordan shook under him.

  Pierre sat up and disposed of his clothes as quickly as he could. Nothing felt as good or as sexy as Jordan’s cock sliding against his, and a close second on the hotness scale were the whimpers and groans Jordan made as he flexed his hips up to meet Pierre’s.

  “Pierre,” Jordan said quietly. “I want to ask you something.”

  “What is it?”

  “Are you only a top? Is that all you do, because….” Jordan grew quiet.

  Pierre felt like he was treading through deep water for a second. “You want to fuck me?”

  Jordan nodded.

  “Sweetheart, I like it both ways.”

  The grin was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “Don’t get me wrong. You were amazing and all, and I really loved it, but I like to be on top too, and well, the last guy I was with never let me even touch him there. I know now he was really hung up and everything. But I never thought….” Jordan spoke so fast. Pierre was getting to know the signs of Jordan’s nerves.

  “Breathe…,” he said gently. “If we’re together, then whatever we do that makes us both happy is awesome.” Pierre rolled onto his back, bringing Jordan on top of him. “I’m all yours, sweetheart.” He leaned forward, and Jordan leaned down to meet him. Pierre lost himself in the kiss and Jordan’s heady taste. He wound his legs around Jordan’s waist, opening himself up to him, giving his pleasure and his care to Jordan, the same way Jordan had done for him.

  Jordan slithered down him to suck on a nipple, sending Pierre into orbit as he swirled that tongue and added fire on heat until Pierre could barely see straight.

  “Does that feel real?” Jordan asked.

  “What?” Pierre breathed. “You make it hard to think.”

  “Oh.” Jordan smiled and leaned closer, the energy of his kiss zinging its way down Pierre’s spine, settling in his balls, making his cock throb with anticipation. He wanted Jordan, needed to feel him inside, filling him, joining them together. He’d touched Jordan’s soul when they’d been together. He craved that again.

  Jordan knew how to reach him, fill him, leave him completely breathless. His hands and mouth on him left trails of heat so that when Jordan slipped inside him, he could barely control himself. It had been a while since he’d let anyone this close to him, but with Jordan, it felt natural and right.

  “Wow,” Jordan breathed, leaning over him. Pierre wound his arms around Jordan’s neck, pulling him into a kiss as they moved together. Pierre was coming to realize that few things in life were as amazing and special as being in tune with someone else. Knowing what they wanted and having them know your needs. No words, just gasps, hitched breaths, and clenched muscles doing the talking. And those eyes—all Pierre needed to do was look into Jordan’s now cobalt eyes to know he understood and was well aware of just what he was doing to him.

  Pierre’s cock bounced against his belly, and Jordan reached for it, encircling him in warmth and pressure that added to his pleasure. He gritted his teeth and held on to the bedding as a talented Jordan sent him to ecstasy, flying within seconds as Jordan joined him on the incredible flight, which couldn’t possibly last long enough.

  After lying unmoving for a while, they showered together before climbing back into bed. Pierre snuggled Jordan in his arms. He could so easily get used to Jordan sleeping next to him.

  PIERRE DIDN’T want to get up the following morning. Everything was too damn perfect and he was way too happy. Still, he got himself out of bed, kissed Jordan goodbye, and went home to change into his uniform before heading to the station. He checked his messages and made sure he had everything he needed before going to the courthouse, where he met the judge as he entered the building.

  “I have good news,” Pierre said as soon as the elevator doors slid closed. “We found the letter writer and have him in custody, so you can return to your normal routine.”

  “You’ve charged him?” Judge Crawford asked as the car rode upward.

  “Not yet. I have clear evidence against him.” Pierre bit his lower lip, appearing worried. “I located him last night, and he spent the night in a holding cell.” The door opened, and Pierre grew quiet as they walked down to the judge’s office. He seemed more relaxed than he had the entire time Pierre had been there, which was to be expected. The threat had been neutralized.

  “Have you questioned him?” Crawford asked.

  “Not yet. He was one of the people who showed up on a list of cases. We ran them down to see who might hold a grudge, and I got lucky.” Pierre waited until the judge sat down, and then he did also. “I intend to question Mr. Oistin in detail so I can find out why he decided to write the letters and why he holds such an intense grudge against you.” He consulted his notes and kept his expression neutral, even though he was issuing a veiled threat. He pretended not to hear the judge’s sharp inhalation or see the way his skin flushed. It was clear Judge Crawford remembered the distinctive name.

  “You still have him in custody?” he asked.

  “Yes. I tracked him down late last night. He seems pretty broken and needs some help.” That was as far as Pierre felt he could push it. He’d planted the seeds of doubt and worry, and now he had to see if they took root and sprouted.

  Crawford picked up some papers from his desk, fumbling with them. It was clear he wasn’t reading them, but Pierre sat still and waited for the judge to make up his mind. “Do you really believe that he’d benefit from counseling?” It was clearly a question he didn’t give a rat’s ass about. He was trying to save face and appear generous when the primary emotion in his eyes was fear, pure and basic fear.

  Pierre nodded. “I saw him this morning in jail, and putting him in prison isn’t going to help anyone. Taxpayers will pay for his incarceration, and he’ll probably be unable to function by the end of his sentence anyway. You know there would also be a trial, and his defense would certainly bring out his reasons for doing what he did.” He couldn’t resist the urge to twist the knife.

  “Then put the fear of God in him and tell him that if I get one more letter, I’ll press so many charges against him, he’ll wish he’d never been born, and that by the time he got out, he’d be too old to do shit.” This was, of course, all bluster, but Pierre had the answer he wanted and stood.

  “I’ll take it from here.” He turned and left the judge’s office, sharing a smile with Jordan, but he didn’t stop to chat. Whatever was going through the judge’s mind at the moment, he didn’t want it transferred to Jordan. Let Crawford think this was over and that they would release Kyle without speaking to him. In his mind, it would be quick and painless and he’d be off the hook, even though Pierre had already gotten plenty of information out of Kyle.

  Pierre left the courthouse, messaging Jordan that everything seemed to have gone fine. Stay out of the line of fire if possible, he added as a warning and then called in to the station.

  “The judge isn’t going to press charges,” Pierre told the sheriff when he got him on the phone.

  “Then we can release Oistin?”

  “Yes. But ask him if he’ll answer some more questions. We should get what we can out of him. I’m on my way back and want to review things. I think t
here’s more he might be able to do to help us.”

  Sheriff Hunter grunted. “So we should be nice.”

  “Exactly. The man is fragile and hurting. I doubt he’ll respond to force, but kindness will go a long way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Pierre had a busy day ahead of him, but hopefully he could get results.

  Chapter 6

  JORDAN TOOK Pierre’s warning seriously and stayed away from Judge Crawford as much as he could for the next few days. He came and left the office at his usual time, with the judge working late each night, his door closed. Jordan went right home, having heard nothing else from Pierre all day. Pierre had been so busy with this investigation that he hadn’t seen him. They talked and messaged, but it wasn’t the same. Jordan had thought of calling him, but figured Pierre was busy.

  His phone dinged with a message just as he and Jeremiah reached the door.

  Where are you? Pierre asked.

  Just getting home, Jordan sent and then unlocked the door, letting Jeremiah bound inside.

  I’m on my way. I’ll see you in a few minutes.

  Jordan replied and went inside, closing and locking the door. He got Jeremiah settled with his Legos and went to the kitchen in search of what to make for dinner. He needed to go to the store. He smiled at the knock on the door and went to open it to let Pierre inside.

  A stranger stood outside.

  “Can I help you?” Movement caught Jordan’s attention as Pierre strode closer, still in his uniform.

  “I’m with Child Services….” He didn’t get the rest of the message out as Pierre stood next to him, looming over the man, shoving a phone into his hand.

  “You better take this call,” Pierre told him.

  The man took the phone and listened, then paled slightly and handed it back to Pierre. “I don’t understand.”

  “What was reported is a lie,” Pierre told him. “And you were about to act on it.” Pierre turned to Jordan. “Go inside. Close and lock the door in case he decides to be stupid.”

  Pierre never spoke that way, and it sent a chill running through him. Jordan closed the door and flipped the lock as Jeremiah came running over because he’d heard Pierre’s voice. “It’s okay. Mr. Pierre will be in soon.” He tried not to worry, looking out the window next to the door until the social worker turned and went to the car parked by the curb. Jordan opened the door for Pierre and he came inside.

  “There was another report made about you, like the one I told you about. He took the call,” Pierre said, motioning outside, “and decided to act on it. Thankfully Donald got wind of it and called me, so I raced over. Donald knew it was false because he called your mother and confirmed that Jeremiah had been there all day and was being watched. So someone lodged a complaint about false reports, and we have an investigation open for it. But Mr. Zealous there would have acted on it.”

  Jordan didn’t need to be told what that meant.

  “Why? I haven’t done anything to anyone.” Jordan’s knees weakened under him. He remained standing by sheer force of will.

  Pierre took his hand as well as Jeremiah’s. Jordan’s heart raced, and just then, his phone rang.

  “Mr. Erichsohn, this is Elise with Judge Taylor. He’s scheduled a session for Monday afternoon at two in order to review your case, and he is requiring that Jeremiah be brought as well.”

  Jordan paled and swallowed hard. “Yes. Okay. Do I have a right to know what this is about?” he asked, even though he had a pretty good idea.

  “Judge Taylor is requesting a final review of all facts” was all she said. The fact that he was requiring Jeremiah be there scared Jordan to his core.

  “Thank you. We’ll be there.” He hung up the phone and turned to Pierre, his vision swimming. “What’s going on?” It felt like his world was falling apart.

  “Why don’t you go play?” Pierre told Jeremiah with a smile, and he hurried back to his Legos. Pierre led Jordan to the table and helped him sit down. “I’ve been busy all day, running down people who have had issues with your boss. So far I have found three people with similar stories. Judge Crawford has been influence-peddling for his cronies.”

  “You mean it isn’t for money?” Jordan asked.

  Pierre shrugged. “We’re not sure if money is involved or not. But evidence goes missing or is deemed inadmissible. I have found three people whose convictions were overturned in the face of evidence that had to be reconstructed or dug back up… or rulings of evidence that were reversed. These are innocent people he sent to prison, and the people who got off all have something in common—they are all relatives of important people, like former mayors, council members, town bigwigs.”

  “But why this hearing? Is it related?” Jordan asked.

  “I think so. It’s looking like word got back to some of the judge’s cronies that we’ve been talking to people, and I imagine they got on the phone to the judge, yammering like a bunch of gossips. Crawford has most likely determined that you’re the source of the information.”

  “So he talked to Judge Taylor?” Jordan said.

  “Yes, and now Judge Taylor thinks he has information on one of the cases before him, and he has to act on it. Even if he thinks it’s false, he still has to look into it.” Pierre took his hand, holding it tighter. “I’m afraid it gets worse. Even if he tells us it’s Judge Crawford who came forward, we can’t say anything about what Judge Crawford is up to. Not yet.”

  Jordan felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh God. No, we can’t. That would be making an accusation, especially in open court, and then we’d have to come forward with unassailable proof or….”

  “Yup. I’ve been working all day to try to build up as strong a case as I can, but I still don’t have enough solid proof for the review board to act on immediately. They move slowly, and it would take a case of gross misconduct to get them to act.”

  “I know. Any accusation must come with sufficient proof to cast undeniable doubt on a judge’s ability to render unbiased decisions,” Jordan parroted back the statute. “But what are we going to do?”

  “Call your lawyer….”

  Jordan shrugged. “I will. But what am I going to do? We don’t have any idea what this is truly about. We’re guessing. If I knew what the threat was, I could counter it with proof. But this kind of nebulous threat….” He closed his eyes and held his breath. This was exactly what he’d feared as soon as he’d found that file, and now his adoption of Jeremiah was in jeopardy.

  “I know I’m responsible for this,” Pierre said just above a whisper. “I thought I was walking the line well enough to keep suspicion away from you. I guess I was wrong and stupid. I should have backed away and left you alone once we figured out what was happening.” He turned away, closing his eyes.

  Jordan should have known it would come to this. Things always did. “I figured you’d come to regret what happened between us. It was just a matter of time.” Jordan felt like a fool. He’d actually come to trust Pierre and had even started to rely on him. What kind of idiot was he? Relying on someone else was the road to disappointment. All he’d wanted was to build a family with Jeremiah. That had been his one goal, to create a family, safe and secure for both of them. Then in waltzed Pierre, and stupidly, Jordan figured he could have it all. He should have fucking known better. He stood, walked to the door, and pulled it open. “You might as well go.”

  “Jordan…,” Pierre said softly, turning just enough to meet his gaze. “I didn’t mean that I regretted seeing you, just that I should have backed away and waited until this was over before putting you and Jeremiah in harm’s way.” He pulled his fingers into a fist and then released it again. “This is all my fault, and I’m only sorry for bringing this to your doorstep. Not for you letting me become part of your life.”

  Jordan whirled around, mouth open, intent on yelling, until he saw Pierre’s eyes, and the anger melted away and his shoulders slumped. It didn’t matter who was to blame or how all this came about. They could fight over what h
ad happened later. “What are we going to do? I can’t lose Jeremiah.”

  “You won’t. Whatever has happened, there’s one bright spot. That social worker who was here earlier didn’t come with a court order. So there’s the possibility that Judge Taylor isn’t convinced by whatever he was told or, like a proper adjudicator, he wants to hear both sides of the argument before making a decision.”

  “That’s true,” Jordan agreed, even though it didn’t make him feel any better.

  His phone chimed in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was his mother.

  “What’s going on? I got a call from that nice social worker, wanting to know if Jeremiah was okay.” She sounded nearly as frantic as Jordan felt at the moment. “I told him that Jeremiah was with me and that he was loved and cared for by everyone in his life.” She paused, and Jordan heard a sniffle. “I’m so sick of these people always sticking their noses into my grandson’s life.” His mother could be a tiger at times, and he was grateful for it.

  Jordan started and then sighed as Pierre slid his arms around his waist, holding him gently. He didn’t say anything. Pierre was just there, supporting him. Jordan felt like a fool. Pierre had shown him he cared and could be trusted, but as soon as Jordan got scared, he—

  “Honey, are you there?” his mother asked. “Did you hear what I told you?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied. The court has asked me to appear Monday at two, and I’m really nervous.” His legs shook as he looked to where Jeremiah was playing, completely oblivious to all this drama. Jordan hoped he could keep it that way.

  “Bastards…,” his mother swore.