by A. E. Via
He had Michaels where he wanted him. Relaxed and compliant against that wall until those idiots busted in. Now they were standing there face to face, waiting on two men to take the longest piss in history. Michaels licked his lips, drawing Judge’s attention down to his mouth. He seriously had him reconsidering his firm no kissing rule. He ran the pad of thumb along that plump bottom lip, feeling it quiver against his touch. Michaels’ eyes closed briefly before focusing back on him. That’s right. Eyes on me, gorgeous. He wanted to kiss him. Damnit. Follow the rules. Judge leaned in closer, their breaths mingling with each other. Kissing meant something, a lot could be said with a kiss. Kissing was intimate and personal. He veered to the side and sucked lightly on Michaels’ neck. It was beautiful how he arched to give him more room. He stayed there, licking and tasting until he heard the door close behind those men. Michaels groaned using Judge’s belt loops to pull them closer together.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Judge licked beneath Michaels’ ear. “I understand your urges. I truly do. I know the feeling of wanting to hit, to fight that anger out of you.” Judge scrubbed his beard against Michaels’ jaw, nuzzling and basking in that scent of furiousness before he ended with, “I just don’t want you to fight me.”
“I don’t want to fight you.” Michaels confessed. “I don’t want to be angry.”
“I know.”
“I can’t fix it.”
“I can.” Judge winked.
“How?”
“When we get to the hotel I’m going to show you.” Judge unlocked the stall and led them out of the bathroom. He couldn’t get to that damn hotel quick enough.
When they were back in the truck Judge couldn’t help but notice how stiff Michaels was next to him. Surely his back was bunched up into a hundred knots and his neck was red, like if Judge reached over and touched him, he’d get burned. Although the cool air conditioning was on high and the interior was cool, Michaels had bead of sweat slowly licking down his temples into the course hairs on his chin. He was on the edge, ready to snap. Michaels fidgeted in his seat and gripped the door handle, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed the leather. Bookem wined sensing Michaels’ stress, rising up on his hunches, to stick his head in between the seats. Michaels exhaled shakily, reaching over to pat Book on his head.
Judge drove at a moderate speed past Switch’s girlfriend’s house. A small one-story ranch style home with blue shutters. It was after six and there was only one light on in the front of the house. A red Toyota Corolla was parked in the driveway along with a broke down Chevy Impala. They’d already been notified that the woman drove and the Impala was registered to her but hadn’t been operational in months. They couldn’t stop in front of the house so they continued to their hotel which was sure enough just a small ways up the block. There was enough businesses and homes on the street for them to blend in. Judge took note of the black town car that was parked in a McDonald’s parking lot across from their hotel. There was a man inside that gave them a quick head nod while they waited in their turning lane.
“That must be God’s Miami PD contact.” Michaels said. His voice was hoarse and gravelly.
“Yeah. Text God and tell him to call him off.” Judge popped another sugar cane in his mouth. He didn’t feel the urge for a cigarette but he felt the need to have something to do with his mouth… his hands.
Michaels pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a simple text. After Judge pulled around to the side, he told Michaels to go and check them in while he walked Bookem. Michaels looked a little calmer than he had back at the truck stop but still clearly wired. There wasn’t much around the side of the motel but there was a few bushes on the backside of the parking lot for Bookem to do his business. He saw Michaels walking along the open hallway, checking the numbers on each door. He used a keycard to open up room 325, three levels up. Judge locked eyes with him right before he went inside. Turning to look from the door, up the street to the girlfriends, it looked to be a good vantage point to do their surveillance. He stood outside a while longer trying to let Bookem get in some exercise before they got closed up in the room. His phone buzzed with a text notification. He had a quick fantasy that it was Michaels texting him to tell him to hurry up and come upstairs, that he was naked and waiting on him to fuck him right. But, when he pulled out his phone he saw it was a message from Duke. Shaking his head at his foolishness, he opened up the message.
‘you coming back anytime soon… got a job… a big one’
Judge wasn’t sure why he didn’t respond right away, like he usually did. A big job, of course he wanted it. But the past couple days he’d been wanting something a little more than the next big job. He sighed and tucked his phone back in his pocket. What is up with me? Judge whistled for Bookem to come-on. They took the stairs to their floor and Judge saw that Michaels had left the door cracked for him. Well at least the room was a helluva lot more comfortable than that rat hole they’d been in the night before. The two queen sized beds looked comfortable with starch white sheets and a grey and white comforter folded in half. The television was nestled inside of huge armoire along with a several take out menus. There was also a small kitchenette equipped with a two-burner stove, dorm-style fridge and microwave. Too bad he couldn’t boil water. He scanned the rest of the minor amenities. It was nice. He wished he had an efficient assistant like God did, to take care of the little things when he was on the road.
Judge dropped his bag on the side of the bed closet to the window. Bookem did his regular tour while Judge peeked out the window. The black town car was gone so now it was up to them to do the watching. The house was quiet, the Corolla still in the driveway. Later he’d walk Bookem up the street to get a better look at how many entrances there were to the home. See if Switch could slip into a back entrance or window without them noticing.
The sound of the shower running quickly brought Judge out of his current thoughts. Michaels in the next room, naked and wet took precedence over anything else. He dug in his bag and retrieved some necessities before removing his shirt and his pants. He stood there in the door of the bathroom, watching the beautiful specimen behind the glass shower doors. He wasn’t washing anymore, he had both toned arms braced against the tile wall, with his head hanging low so the water could beat on his neck. If the steamy room was any indication, he had the water on as hot as he could stand it. Judge stripped out of his boxers, his heart beating wildly in his chest. What if Michaels fought him, didn’t want the kind of therapy his dick could provide? Well then, I’ll leave him alone. He pulled back one side of the doors but Michaels didn’t turn around which he took as a good sign. The shower was big enough for the both of them but Judge sealed himself to Michaels’ slick back, nestling his throbbing cock against his hot ass. He slammed the condom and lube on the soap holder directly in front of Michaels’ face. Symbolically telling him this was about to happen.
Judge groaned his approval when Michaels spread his legs further apart. He began a lazy thrust against him, letting the steaming water run against his own back for a few seconds. He drug his hands up Michaels’ tight muscles in his arms until he got to the tips of his fingers. He linked their hands together keeping them against the wall. Michaels felt so good against him, his skin hot and flushed from the heat.
“Tell me to go.” He whispered against Michaels’ neck before licking the water droplets off him.
Michaels grunted when Judge thrust his stiff cock harder. The head of his dick was nudging Michaels’ tight balls, this time he ground his pelvis against him drawing a low moan from the man beneath him.
“Tell me to go.” He said again, this time reaching down and grabbing a fist full of those aching balls in his palm. Judge rolled them around in his big hand. Michaels pushed his sweet ass back to meet his thrust and that was all the permission he needed. Right here. Right now.
Judge licked and bit at the knots that had formed on the back of Michaels’ neck. He took his hand off the wall and began to knead him
there with his knuckles. Relentlessly massaging him to the point of pain. He rubbed and worked those kinks until they began to loosen. Michaels rolled his head back and forth all while pushing his ass back against him. Jesus. He started to make those erotic sounds again the more Judge pushed against him. Michaels turned his head, leaning back in search of Judge’s mouth but he retreated behind him and kissed and licked at the base of his spine instead. He hoped it wasn’t obvious but Judge was already on edge when it came to the spirited detective. Kissing him would only cause more confusion. He didn’t’ want feelings getting into this.
Judge got the lube from the holder and pumped a few dollops onto two fingers.
“I don’t bottom.” Michaels said still clutching to the tiles for dear life, sounding winded and overwhelmed.
“You do now.” Judge retorted his voice deep and dominant. He circled Michaels’ shy hole with both fingers. Not applying any pressure yet, just relaxing him. He looked down their bodies, loving the visual. Michaels pale ass was hot and red from the heat. His light colored hair was slick down against him, the hair in his seam was darker and so much of a turn on to him. He wanted to drop to his knees and taste him there, push his nose into him to see what he truly smelled like. Fuck. Maybe later. Judge used his middle finger first, nudging just slightly. Wanting… no needing… to make this satisfying for Michaels. As soon as he breached him, Michaels hissed and released a gust of breath.
“Easy.” Judge murmured in his ear. Where was all the sentiments and crooning coming from? He slowly worked his middle finger in to the first knuckle, watching Michaels’ gorgeous face for any negative reactions. This was a first for Judge – in a very long time – that he’d taking his time, been more considerate of his partner than himself. Wanted it to be good, no great for him.
“I’m not a goddamn doll. Fuck me.” Michaels snapped, pushing his ass back, taking in all of Judge’s finger.
Oh yes. His guy was really getting restless now. All that energy bottled up inside with no outlet. Judge pressed in deep and rotated his finger loving the tightness and heat he encountered the furtherer he got inside him. He wanted nothing more than to bury his cock inside and lose himself in all that warmth but he wasn’t going to hurt him either. If the detective wasn’t used to bottoming, Judge would have to use some self-control.
Michaels was angrily slamming his ass back on his palm and Judge took his other hand and slapped him hard on his ass cheek, the water making the hit sound even louder than it was. Michaels jerked from the blow, snapping his head around to glare at him with electric blue eyes. Judge used Michaels’ shoulder to push him back around to face the wall. With two slick fingers he pressed inside, until he met resistance. Right after his knuckles. Michaels’ legs tensed and his ass clenched around his two digits.
“You sure you’re ready for my cock?” Judge chuckled against him. “I didn’t think so.”
Michaels growled and gripped Judge on his hip. His strong fingers leaving a deep imprint on him. Judge bared his teeth and yanked Michaels’ hand off him, putting it back against the wall. “Don’t move it again.”
“Fuck you.” Michaels barked back at him.
Judge latched his mouth on to Michaels’ neck and sucked hard, hard enough to leave a dark, raised welt of skin. While he devoured Michaels’ throat he pushed in a third finger, pumping his hips in tandem with his fingers. As soon as he nudged that hot spot inside of him, Michaels yelled out into the steamy room. He bucked and cursed in Judge’s hold, going wild against him. Damn this was fun. Taming this wild man was going to be a challenge he’d never forget.
Chapter Twenty
Well he damn sure didn’t have to be a detective to piece together the clues that Judge didn’t kiss. Otherwise they would’ve slobbed each other down by now. The dark, neatly trimmed mustached that framed those plump light-colored lips called to him. Michaels loved to kiss, though he didn’t get the opportunity very often. When he saw his teammates kissing their men, he always found himself daydreaming, wishing. Damn, to make out like a teenager again. To kiss so heavily in a car until the windows fogged up. To rent a movie on a Friday night and before they get half way through it, he’s ravaged with a thick, hot tongue until the credits start to roll. What was so bad about it? It didn’t have to mean undying love, it was a form of foreplay, plain and simple. Judge was going to kiss him, one way or another.
Judge dug in deep, hitting his prostrate again and Michaels thought his legs were going to give out. It’d been a while since he’s had a good prostrate massage, even longer since he’d bottomed. He didn’t mind it, he knew it felt amazing if done right, but the guys he’d screwed around with, never would’ve got it right. Justin had got it right a few times while they were in the academy, he was a natural at it. Michaels thought they really could’ve had something if Justin’s internal closet wasn’t so fucking small.
He closed his eyes and breathed deep, sucking in the steam that whirled dramatically around them like dry ice. He was sweating like crazy. Judge’s hot hairy chest plastered to his back, his thick cock stabbing him in his ass cheek, his balls, all while he stretched him expertly with those thick fingers. Hands the size of a linebackers’ were easily able to control his erratic hips. Damn he was in need but he didn’t want to whine and he absolutely refused to beg. Just fuckin’ do it already.
As if Judge picked up on his thoughts he reached in front of him and got the gold foil package from out of the soap container. Michaels’ pulse amped up and his chest rose and fell with every anxious breath. Jesus. He was going to let this big fucker pound his ass until he wasn’t… what… angry anymore? What was I thinking? Hell if he knew. Something about Judge called to him like no other man he’d encountered. Powerful, strong, controlling, a big ass bear of a man that eyes were as dark as charcoal when he was aroused. The type of man that was in his fantasy and now… was right here with him.
The sound of latex on skin was scary and exhilarating. The thought of being penetrated again had him sweating profusely while a nervous chill racked his body. Judge’s sweetend breath was ghosting across his cheek, so close to his own lips that they twitched to turn and take what else he wanted. One thing at a time he guessed.
“Take a deep breath.” Judge said quietly.
“Shut up and just do it already.”
Judge’s meaty hand was on his throat fast squeezing hard enough for him to get pissed… and hard as fucking sheet rock. He took one hand off the tile and grabbed at Judge’s thick forearm.
“Put your hand back on the goddamn wall like I said.” Judge growled, harshly nipping the shell of his ear. It was almost embarrassing the way Michaels’ dick jerked and leaked from the commanding tone. Oh so slowly he slid his hand back up there with the other one. Judge waited completely still until he’d complied with the order. Michaels wanted to tuck his chin to his chest and growl himself but the fist around his throat was preventing it, the cock nudging against his tight hole was startling enough to change his mind.
Judge’s hand opened a little and Michaels took in a deep breath, barely realizing it had been restricted. Damn his dick was so hard it was sore. He exhaled and then drew in another lungful and as soon as his chest was fully expanded, Judge snapped his strong hips forward, pushing the head of that cannon just past his ring of muscle. Michaels’ eyes slammed shut and he threw his head back against Judge’s wet shoulder stunned by the burn.
“You were so angry at me earlier.” Judge grunted against his back. “You wanted to fight me, didn’t you?”
Michaels didn’t know if he was supposed to answer that or not. He’d actually felt bad about it now. He was grown man not some adolescent bully.
“Why fight, sweetheart, when we can do this instead.” Judge pushed in deeper, spreading his ass nice and wide.
“Holy shit.” Michaels hissed. It wasn’t the pain so much as the burn. But hell if it didn’t set him on fire in a much better way than he’d felt in that truck stop bathroom. That type of heat coursing through
him didn’t make him feel like this, didn’t make him feel alive. He knew the fire would soon extinguish in his channel but Judge was still pushing forward, inch by agonizing inch. “Fuckin’ bear dick.”
Judge actually chuckled hoarsely against the side of his neck. “Yes. Just what you needed.” Judge kept one hand loose on his throat and his other gripped his hip and pulled him back onto the last couple of inches. “Ahhh. So damn deep, Michaels.”
Hell fucking yeah it was deep. He felt impaled, like Judge could lift him off his feet and hang him on that thick pole. His eyes were still closed tight as he willed his body to try to relax, this wasn’t going to feel good otherwise.
“Breathe.”
Judge’s raspy voice sounded like he was struggling a little too. Michaels felt him pull out a few inches and slide back in just as slowly. He felt his eyes rolling behind his closed lids, the friction and the heat making him ache for something more. Judge inched out about half way and drove back in again. The burn was fading and the pleasure was spiking. He couldn’t stop the trembling, the adrenaline racing through his body of having this thick pipe inside him, one of the most intimidating men he’d ever met, behind him, losing himself along with him. “Damn.”
“Mmmm. Take it all.” Judge spread one side of Michaels’ cheeks apart and drove ass deep as could, growling his approval when Michaels went up on his toes. He stood there on shaky legs, braced against flexed arms, being a passive lover. He was not a goddamn submissive, by no means. Judge’s cock was about to get a helluva ride. If this was supposed to be healing for him then he was going to get real proactive in his curing. Michaels reached over and turned off the taps, the water was getting colder and he was done with Judge’s hips slapping the water against his ass.
