by A. E. Via
Judge brought the containers over and set it on the table along with his sweet and sour chicken. He placed two sodas in front of Michaels and sat down across from him. Those bright blue eyes bored into him before traveling down his bare chest to linger there. Michaels unconsciously licked his lips and Judge wanted to go over there and pull that juicy bottom lip between his teeth and bite until Michaels growled at him. His dick plumped in his jeans at the thought and he was glad he’d ditched the leathers for now. Jeans gave him more growing room. Besides, it was a sweltering ninety in Miami, he didn’t want to pass out from heat exhaustion. Michaels was back in his plain white wife beater, a simple gold cross hung around his neck now that wasn’t there before. It was beautiful against his tan skin. Judge shifted in his seat and Michaels eyes snapped back up to his face before focusing back on his food. Judge thought it sexy how the detective ate with chopsticks while Judge opted to shovel as much food as he could on his fork. They ate in silence, not an uncomfortable silence but it was clear that both of them had things they wanted to say but thought it was best left unsaid.
Judge was full and getting more and more tired as darkness settled in. He should’ve walked Bookem one more time but it looked like his legs were bothering him from the walk he’d took earlier. He’d slipped his good buddy a pain pill along with his multi-vitamin while Mr. Wannabe-veterinarian was in the bathroom. He didn’t need him asking questions or offering up more of his unsolicited advice.
Judge washed up a little and then turned out most of the lights in the room. Michaels was watching outside like a hawk, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Judge figured he was one helluva detective. He’d picked up on that Navigator so fast, Judge was impressed.
“Is the Navigator still there?”
“Unfortunately.” Michaels grumbled. “I already sent the license plate number to God.”
Now he was seriously impressed. He wasn’t really concerned about Michaels doing that without telling him, he felt now that Michaels really was on his side, or willing to do everything he could to help him get Switch. “May the best man win.” Judge said back and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t worry about the thugs right now. His plan was to sneak in and grab Switch and get the hell out of dodge before anyone knew what happened. He was good at that, hopefully his temporary partner was good too.
Judge felt like he’d just closed his eyes good when he felt something touching his chest. He twisted not wanting to lose the hot dream he was having but that insistent hand was on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake. When he finally conceded that his dream was lost he opened his eyes. Michaels had one knee on his bed, leaning over him to look him in his face.
“Hey. You were grunting in your sleep. Thought maybe you were having a nightmare.” Michaels said, his forehead bunched with concern.
Judge eyes feasted on the delicious man half on his bed, leaning over him smelling like soap and anxiousness. The longer Michaels stared down at him the faster his chest pumped and the shallower his breathing became. It didn’t take long for Judge’s to follow suit. “It wasn’t a bad dream.” Judge clarified, his voice rough with sleep.
“Sorry to disturb it.”
“Well now that you did…” Judge grabbed Michaels around his waist and yanked him on the bed with him, quickly pinning him under him. “I’ll have to finish what you interrupted.”
“Do it.” Michaels challenged.
Judge smiled. He smiled. Detective Austin Michaels was something else. The lights were still off, only the light from the television flickered around the room. Illuminating and then darkening his view of the man under him. When the brightness flashed again he saw Michaels’ eyes were alert and glassy, not appearing like he’d been up all night.
“What time is it?”
Michaels pushed up into Judge’s groin, seeking out his harness. “It’s a little after four,” he rasped.
Judge gave Michaels what he sought. Both of them moaning at the contact of their erections grinding together. He needed to get up and take watch. Michaels gripped his waist and pulled on him harder. What the hell, they had a little time. No one was doing anything at four in the morning. Judge leaned in and went for Michaels’ neck with his mouth, still not able to kiss those luscious lips. He licked across that lump in the center of his throat with the flat of his tongue tasting the cleanness. “You taste so fuckin’ good.” he moaned, pushing his erection into the hard thigh he was straddling.
“Then take a real taste.” Michaels dared.
Did Michaels really want to kiss him? Judge was seriously considering it. He hadn’t kissed in years, maybe he wasn’t even good at it anymore. He braced himself on his forearms, hovering over Michaels’s face, his lips so close. Michaels grinned at him and brought a hand up to press down on his shoulder. Pressing and pressing until Judge finally got the hint.
“A real taste.” Michaels smirked.
Asshole. He wasn’t talking about a kiss at all. He wanted Judge’s mouth further down. Judge quirked his eyebrow at the ballsy request.
“Suck it, Judge. It taste good. I promise you.” Michaels flirted tucking one arm behind his head while the other grazed back and forth over his own nipples.
Sexy fucker. Judge wanted to refuse but he would only be cheating himself. He wanted that hard, heavy shaft ramming down his throat more than anything right now. Spreading his mouth wide to take it all, leaking down his throat while he gagged on the length. Oh my god. Wanted Michaels to come down his throat. Shit. Judge’s own cock pulsed behind his jeans, loving every word and visual he’d just thought.
Michaels was already shimmying out of his briefs and sweats. His full cock springing free and slapping his abdomen. Judge took it in his hand and jerked it a few times, listening to Michaels curse and arch up into his fist. So damn sexy. Judge licked all around the shaft, light teasing strokes with the tip of his tongue that wasn’t near enough satisfaction for his impetuous detective. When Michaels put his hand on his head, silently begging for more, he himself didn’t have the power to keep resisting.
He opened his mouth wide enough to take in the swollen head, hollowing his cheeks and sucking him hard.
“Yes.” Michaels groaned, his head turning to the side, burying into the plush down pillow. He was inhaling deeply. Is he smelling where I slept? That had Judge turning up the enthusiasm. He went down half way, his fist closed tight over the bottom half as he sucked and jerked in tandem, every few seconds going down as far as he could, his nose just brushing those prickly pubes.
“Judge.” A whimper.
Damn that sounded sexy as shit. Judge slurped and sucked until Michaels had a steady chant going that consisted of several curse words, a threat, a promise and of course, Judge’s name. Judge’s eyes had been closed, enjoying the act just as much as the recipient when he felt a light caress start at the top of his brow and traveled soothingly down his temple to the corner of his mouth. With his lips stretched wide, he looked up Michaels’ rippled torso and saw that he was watching him intently. His mouth was parted slightly, his lips pinker than they usually were as if he’d been biting on them. Those gun-toting, calloused fingers danced around on his beard before the touch became more aggressive. Michaels was touching him just the way he loved. Stroking and digging his blunt nails into his beard. Those gorgeous, keen eyes looked at Judge like he’d hung the moon tonight just for him. Judge had to watch, couldn’t take his eyes away as he kept sucking and pulling on that wide shaft. Damn if Michaels wasn’t lying because he damn sure tasted delicious.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Michaels dug and pulled on Judge’s beard because it was hot to do and it really got the big man fired up. He was sucking the fuck out of his cock while jerking his own with his other hand. He was letting himself loose and Michaels wanted that. Judge went down and buried his nose in Michaels’ thick bush, his throat working the head. Michaels grunted hard, his lower back rising up off the bed at the amount of desire flooding him. Judge gagged and pulled off, looking pleased at
Michaels’ spit-slicked cock. Few more seconds of this and he was going to come… explosively.
Judge moaned around the blushed head working hard at getting both of them off. Michaels didn’t want to come like this, he wanted more. His ass was just starting to feel relief and now he wanted to beat it up again. Oh hell yes. He pulled on Judge’s hair. “Enough.” He groaned.
“I want you to come.” Judge answered his voice just as sexy and husky.
“I will.” Michaels opened his legs wide, he reached his hand down and skimmed over his balls gathering some of the spit there before reaching lower. Judge gasped when Michaels pushed two fingers inside him.
The burn was immediate but welcomed. He rode his own fingers, getting lost in the friction, his eyes sliding closed. The bed shifted and Judge was gone but Michaels didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Judge was back with the lube, hurrying out of his jeans and spreading the slick liquid on his fingers before he even got back on the bed. Someone else was just as restless as him. Michaels pulled his t-shirt all the way off, spreading his legs wider in obvious invitation.
“Fuck.” Judge whispered his eyes on Michaels’ stretched hole. He rolled a condom down his long shaft and slicked himself up good.
When he climbed back on the bed, Michaels was abruptly flipped over onto his stomach. “Yes!” He yelled. He was so used to doing the handling himself, he didn’t mind Judge taking over for a while. He heard Judge spit against his hole and aggressively rub it in, pushing his thick middle finger in working his walls. He spit again and Michaels’ dick jerked at the vulgar sound and then the way Judge rubbed his saliva into his skin. He had the lube… why was he spitting on him? Oh my god. Now this was new. Judge was into spit, huh? Oh very nice. Michaels wasn’t against that in the least. He imagined Judge fucking him face to face, Michaels opening his mouth begging for his spit…
“I’m ready. I’m fuckin’ ready.” Michaels hurried. His cock was about to bust and he wasn’t even touching it. He reached his hand behind him and rubbed the warm moisture against his hole, spreading it onto his ass, and showing Judge that he liked this, liked bathing in his spit, liked it a lot. He heard Judge groan and swear behind him.
Michaels’ thoughts spiraled out of control. Judge was everything he’d wanted in a man… in a partner. His big, hairy, kinky ass. Damnit. He’d only have him for a short time though. Trying not to even think about the inevitable right now. He went down on his forearms, his face pressed into Judge’s pillow, breathing in his strong masculine scent. His ass poised and ready for the taking.
Judge thighs was pressed against the backs of his. Those wiry hairs tickling against his own. He shamelessly rubbed his ass along Judge’s shaft, the spit and lube steamily running down his crack. Judge gripped Michaels’ hip and nudged his aching hole first, warning him he was coming in. He was patient and let Judge go at his pace and he was glad he did the right thing.
He heard Judge spit against his ass one more time and then he was pressing inside of him, those stout hips, unrelenting. He drove forward slowly, still mindful of his size, but pushed in non-stop.
“Holy fuck.” Michaels gasped. He couldn’t even yell. He was too full. Was it like this earlier? Damn. Maybe he’d been so wired and worried to prove himself that he’d not been overly conscious of Judge’s size… but he was now.
Judge came down over him, pressing that hard hairy chest against his smooth back. His mouth was pressed against his ear, that thick tongue licking out and driving him crazy. Judge’s gravelly voice was straight out of porno film. “Mmmm. Take it, Michaels. I know you can. Take all of it.”
Judge stilled and gripped Michaels’ hips in those firm hands and pulled him back onto the last few inches. Michaels arched and moaned in pleasure and anguish.
“Ahhh, yes. Tight fuckin’ hole.” Judge didn’t give Michaels time to adjust, he pulled out to the tip and bounded back in swift and solid.
“Fuck!”
Michaels felt his walls being lusciously scraped while Judge withdrew all those inches. Knowing Judge was about to power-drive back in, Michaels’ clamped up. His legs shook, and sweat broke out all over him as he resisted against Judge.
“You still fighting me sweetheart.” Judge whispered. His big hands were all over him, rubbing him, caressing him… relaxing him. Judge rocked his cock back and forth, only pushing in the couple inches that Michaels let him. “I’m coming in Michaels, so open up. Open up sweetheart, you need this… trust me.”
Michaels writhed and twisted underneath Judge’s weight. He let him soothe him a few more moments before he unclenched his ass and breathed in deep. This time Judge didn’t fire back in, he took his time and eased back through his channel, and Michaels felt every ridge and vein in his cock. “Is that better, sweetheart?” Judged breathed. “Was that too much dick for you before?”
Oh man. The terms of endearment the sweet, nasty talk. What was going on? This felt intimate as hell. Loving even. Judge’s pace was slow and sensual now. They were connected all over, so close he could feel Judge’s powerful heartbeat.
“S’good, s’good.” Judge murmured in his ear. One big arm around his chest, his thumb tenderly stroking Michaels’ nipple.
“Yeah, babe. It’s good.” Michaels turned and whispered against Judge’s cheek. Loving the way he turned into the touch, just a little. It wasn’t a kiss but they were getting closer and closer.
Neither one of them said anymore. Only moans, and whimpers could be heard as they gave each other what they both needed. Judge immediately sensed that his body wasn’t wanting fast and punishing. He needed relaxing and reassuring, and that’s exactly what Judge gave him until the sun came up and reminded them they were there to do a job and split… not fall in love.
Chapter Twenty-three
Judge picked up the binoculars and watched the Navigator do a slow U-turn in the street before pulling back in to the convenience store parking lot. Michaels was right beside him spelling like their sex from this morning. It was still heady and pungent in the modest sized room.
Judge had taken up watch for a few hours while Michaels took a power nap. When he woke, he pulled on a pair of jeans instead of washing Judge’s essence of him. He felt that was purposely done and Judge didn’t know how he felt about that. He wanted to turn and bury his nose in the crook of Michaels’ neck and sleep there for a day or so until he had no more worries. Worries of his age, worries of Michaels’ temper, of his father’s health, of being a partner, of telling Michaels what he might want, worries about how he wanted to live out the rest of his days. They ate the left over Chinese for lunch, both of them cringing and laughing at the horrible taste. “What I wouldn’t do for some of Linda’s homemade cooking about now.” Judge said absently. Michaels only nodded in agreement.
After four Michaels called and was patched in to the conference call with his boss and team. Judge and he listened in as the team went over their recent developments. God’s voice spoke up next.
“We ran the plates on the Navigator.”
“And?” Judge prompted.
“It belongs to Tony Marks.”
“Marks?” Michaels frowned, looking down at the phone as if something was wrong with it.
“What?” Judge said quietly.
“The Marks brothers are both in prison.”
“Yes.” Day spoke up. “But a cousin took over their operation. The IT team has been on it all night.
Judge looked over at Michaels and saw that he had the same guilty look he wore. While they’d been making love… uhhhh… fucking. Michaels’ team had been hard at work.
God continued. “Jason Riggs worked for the Marks brothers when they were big time. Two years ago when they got popped, Jason laid low for a while before he picked up where they left off. It appears that Switch made away with the drugs that Jason Riggs never got paid for.”
“Shit.” Michaels hissed.
“You said it.” Day chuckled humorlessly. “This is some bullshit that we really don’t need. Now Rigg
s is there waiting for Switch, right along with you guys.”
“Don’t underestimate Riggs and his crew.” Syn chimed in, his raspy Vin Diesel voice unmistakable. “He’s smart and calculating. He won’t care if you’re law enforcement. He’s not going to let go of a half a million in coke without a serious fight.”
“I understand, Syn.” Michaels sighed. This just went from bad to fucked.
“Can you get your contact on the Miami PD to go and scare them away for a while, at least long enough for us to swoop in and get our guy?” Judge asked his eyes still behind the hi-powered binoculars.
“Probably. But it’d have to be timed right.” God was speaking but it was more like he was thinking out loud. “Who’s to say that Riggs will wait even a second to rush Switch as soon as he gets there?”
“True.” Day said. “If we have them popped now, they’ll only be held for twenty-four hours before they’re let go. We don’t have much on Riggs to hold him yet.”
“Give us a few hours to think on this.” Syn jumped back in. Which was good because they were going around in circles.
Judge dropped the binoculars and sprinted over to the bed, yelling over his shoulder. “You got one hour God! The girlfriend is putting suitcases in her car! Those thugs are going to follow her too!”
Michaels didn’t bother picking up the binoculars to check, he hurried and tucked his guns in his back and threw his t-shirt over his head.
“Don’t lose her!” God yelled before the line went dead.
Michaels, Judge and Bookem were racing down the back stairwell to his truck. As soon as they climbed in, Judge burned rubber getting through the parking lot. They came out to the opening as soon as the red Corolla putted up the street. Judge waited a second and sure enough the black Navigator pulled out and followed at a decent distance.
“How good are you at tailing?” Michaels asked.
“The best.” Judge answered easily. He let a few cars go before he pulled out next.
