by A. E. Via
Michaels wiped his eyes and turned to look down at Judge’s cock half way in his ass. Hell it was big, bigger than he’d taken, just a bit bigger than him. He reached between his legs and stroked his own meat, his fist tight and punishing. With the other he tugged on his balls. Judge pushed in again and his fist flew fast over his cockhead, bringing his orgasm front and center, chasing hit to the finish the line, until Judge grabbed both of his wrist and pulled them behind his back.
“The hell?”
“Don’t touch your cock until I say so.”
“The fuck?” Michaels was baffled. If he thought he was giving Judge that much damn power than he was grossly mistaking. Yeah, he’d bottomed for him, but he was one bossy ass bottom.
With his hands still behind his back, Michaels pivoted on one foot turning and pushing them until Judge’s back was against the tiles and Michaels was against his front sandwiching him. Before Judge could object to the new position, Michaels slammed his ass back against Judge’s pelvis, burying him deeper than before. Judge gasped and clamped his arm around Michaels’’ chest holding him close to him. “Ahhh, fuck!”
Michaels inched forward just barely halfway before he slammed back again. The force was powerful, the sound of his ass slapping against Judge was hypnotic. So he chose a fast, heart-throbbing rhythm and got to work on his therapy. He used Judge’s dick like he owned. It was a head rush. Judge behind him, tall and brooding probably wondering when he’d lost the reigns. But, oh how good it felt. Like nothing ever. That hot, pulsing rod turning him fucking inside out. There was no anger, no feuding, no one he could think of that he had a score to settle with. There was only pleasure. Immense fucking mind-blowing pleasure.
********
You little arrogant bastard. Mouth slack and dark eyes hooded, Judge’s head spiraled into an ecstasy he wasn’t used to. All he did was hold on while he got his dick waxed by the most aggressive bottom he’d ever encountered. That tight ass held him and any rational thought he may have had, completely captive. Just a few seconds ago he’d had a hand around Michaels’ throat and was guiding his hip with the other to a pace he’d set. Now he’d dropped Michaels’ hands and lay pushed against the wall taking what Michaels threw at him, and fuck was he throwing it. Brutal. Each backwards thrust was emphasized with a hard grunt, like he was fighting with him in a whole other way. He’d definitely underestimated the detective’s strength.
Shit. His balls were drawing up, clenching up close to him. This was not what he’d had in mind. I’m about to fuckin’ come so hard. Judge’s face was frowned up, his brow sweaty, his eyes closed tight while he concentrating on holding off. Both his hands were on those narrow hips, lightly holding, no longer guiding, while Michaels rode him vertically. “Motherfucker.” He moaned on one long glide of Michaels’ searing hole down his cock before he slammed himself on him. He looked down and saw Michaels beating his own dick with one goal in mind. Hadn’t he told him not to touch it? He wanted to punish him but… but… “ohhhh, fuck.”
He leaned in and sucked on that rapidly beating pulse, his lips seeking out as much flesh as he could reach. He had a mind to reach for something else. To grab that scruffy jaw and turn Michaels to face him, to claim that mouth and taste those obscene moans. Loud, guttural moans, echoing off the hot shower walls, mixing with his own.
“I’m gonna come, Judge. Make me come, make me come, fuck, make me come.” Michaels’ voice was merely a carnal whisper. Lewd, but the way he said Judge’s name was… romantic. Michaels’ shoulders, back, legs, whole body was tense while his orgasm flooded him. Judge took hold of Michaels’ hand and pulled it off his cock, replacing it with his own. Another first in a very long time. He wanted to feel that hard, heavy cock pulse in his own hand, feel his warm come run over his palm.
Judge worked his fist, pumping in time with Michaels’ pounding on his pelvis. He was still going, riding hard, bucking like a cowboy on a bull for his last few seconds. The thought of Michaels’ in assless chaps, and a black Stetson riding the hell out Judge’s cock while he lay beneath him completely raptured … Judge’s vision blurred. The visual had him coughing and grunting at how fast his load shot from his dick. “Oh fuck!” His rhythm faltered while jerking Michaels off. His orgasm was raping the fuck out of him. Another jolt that made his toes curl against the cooling surface of the shower stall, his come quickly filling the small cap of the condom.
“Yes, yes. I feel all of that. Come inside me.”
Judge finally got his hips to move. He’d do anything to breed that stubborn ass right now. Fill it with his seed, make him wear it all night. These thoughts were so far beyond his usual. His gritty detective and that insatiable nasty mouth had him upside down. But, he needed to feel him come, needed to pleasure him. He squeezed his fist around Michaels’ cock and surged forward, burying himself, squeezing the last reserves from his own shaft. That tight ass clutched him before he could catch his breath. Michaels’ hand was clasped over top of his, pulling fast on his cock. Taking his orgasm before Judge got too sensitive to fuck him any longer.
“Don’t stop. I’m coming, babe.”
Babe?
“Judge.” Michaels moaned so sweetly.
Babe? He liked it. Liked it coming from him. He kept thrusting, his cock still a erect bundle of over-sensitive nerves. Judge gritted his teeth, “Come.”
Michaels stiffened all over him, his back going ramrod straight and pressing into his chest. Judge’s hand was squeezed tight and he felt every vein, every beat, felt that beautiful cock pump Michaels’ come all over their joined hands. It was so sensual. “Ohhhh fuuuuck.” Michaels sang for him over and over while he came. His throaty moan was the most delicious thing he’d ever heard. He dropped his forehead to rest on Michaels’ broad shoulder, casually licking and rubbing his wet beard across that tanned skin while he pulled himself together and waited for Michaels’ ass to release his cock. Never in his damn life.
It was over. Both of them breathing heavy and hard against each other. Michaels’ slowly turned his face towards him and this time Judge didn’t move. Michaels’ breath panted against his cheek, his lips grazing so lightly across his beard. He wanted to turn into it but… but. Michaels pressed a tender kiss to his cheek causing his dick to twitch happily still buried inside its heaven. Judge saw the satisfied smirk on Michaels’ face before he turned his head away and eased his body from joined with his.
Michaels didn’t look back as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped one of the bright white towels around his lean hips and left the bathroom without even a glance in his direction. Judge put his fist against his closed eyes and pushed against the tension. Questions that he hadn’t bothered to ask himself in years swirled around in his chest, landing with an uncomfortable thud in his gut. Had he made it good for him? Did Michaels’ like him? He sounded like a love sick little girl. Judge didn’t do love, he didn’t do romance. He was over forty for shit’s sake. That ship had sailed and gone. Michaels was in his early thirties, in his prime. A strong viral stallion. What the hell would he want with Judge and his old grouchy ways? Right? He was more than ten years his senior. Judge’s eyes widened at that reality. Augh.
Shaking his head annoyingly he pulled the condom off and flushed it down the toilet. He wet one of the wash rags and carefully cleaned himself up. He put the lube in the drawer under the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, thinking it was time to clip his beard. Judge sighed. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t know if he was delaying going back in the room and facing Michaels’ sexy stare, or maybe it would be a disappointed stare. It was more like he was taking the time to convince himself that there had been no feelings mixed in with what they’d just done. They’d fucked, that’s it. That’s what he did and with whomever he liked. The hot detective was just another one. In a few days, he wouldn’t see him again. Judge frowned. He didn’t like it. Oh hell.
Chapter Twenty-One
Michaels had put on a pair of jeans and was sipping on his warm bottle of
water he’d had for the last three hours when he heard Judge finally drag his embarrassed ass out of hiding in the bathroom. Michaels was glad his back was to him as he gazed out the window so the big man didn’t see his grin.
Judge didn’t have a reason in hell to be embarrassed. That cock of his was everything he’d hoped it would be since Judge had mentioned using it on him. It wasn’t his fault that Michaels had lost it and rode that lead pipe like a starving whore. He should be the one embarrassed, at the least, embarrassed about that sappy kiss. Why had he done that? He knew Judge didn’t kiss, why was he forcing it? It was a kiss you’d give a lover. Judge wasn’t his lover. Definitely not.
He heard Judge rummaging in his bag and getting dressed before he finally spoke. It was a simple comment but the sound of that voice brought chills down his spine.
“I’m gonna take Bookem for a walk and see if I can get a better look at the girlfriend’s place.”
“I’m going with you.” Michaels quickly plucked out a clean t-shirt and threw it over his head.
“No you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
Judge stepped closer to him. “We can’t look obvious.”
“What the hell is obvious about a happy gay couple walking their big ass dog in the evening?”
Judge’s head jerked back in surprise. “Where not a couple.”
“And I damn sure ain’t happy, but I can act like it. So can you.” Michaels brushed past Judge to get to his boots. When his arm was hooked in a tight grasp he turned slowly, his muscles burning to restrain himself. “Let go.”
“I don’t need you to go.” Judge ground out through clenched teeth.
“We’re in this together. Besides you might need help. Switch and the company he kept were very dangerous.”
“So am I.” Judge hissed.
Those words were like lava running down Michaels’ spine. Hot and scalding. And Michaels couldn’t resist playing right back into him. They were inches apart, practically the same height, Judge just slightly taller but Michaels wouldn’t lift his head, only his eyes, glaring up into those dark orbs. His voice was low and threatening but the words he choose weren’t, “Yeah, you’re dangerous alright.” Michaels made a show of licking his lips. “But I’m going with you… unless you wanna’ try to make me stay.”
Michaels let Judge stare achingly at his wet lips before he walked casually over to his bag and picked up one of his 9mm. He cocked it once and checked the safety before he tucked it in the small of his back. His eyes told Judge that was the end of that conversation.
Judge looked at him like he wanted to put him over his knee. He should be so lucky.
Though Michaels’ ass still throbbed, Judge was welcome to teach him a lesson in manners later.
They walked like a couple, just short of holding hands. There were neighborhoods all around them, it wasn’t farfetched to be walking a dog along this road. They slowed down when they got a few houses down from the girlfriends. Michaels could see that the porch light was now on and so were a couple lights downstairs. There was large bay window right above the driveway that must be the kitchen. The curtains were cracked and Michaels saw a petite woman with bright auburn hair stirring a pot while talking on the phone. He didn’t stare but he checked periodically to see if anyone else was there. She looked to be alone.
They circled around the block and came back up a few minutes later. Michaels didn’t look back up at the house, his eye was on the jet black Navigator in the parking lot of a little convenience store across the street. He could make out figures inside it. They were parked on the side of the store not in front. They couldn’t be customers.
Michaels slid his arm around Judge’s waist and nestled in close to him. Judge looked down at him, his face impassive. A brand new sweet sugar cane cushioned between his firm lips. “What is it?”
“Black SUV, eleven o’clock. It’s just sitting there.” He smiled longingly like he and Judge were talking about wedding plans.
Judge held Bookem’s chain with one hand and brought his big arm up and rested it on his shoulder. He leaned down and kissed the top of Michaels’ head and spoke into his hair. “Keep walking. We’ll watch them from the room. If they’re there for him, then they ain’t going anywhere.” Judge said squeezing him closer.
Michaels closed his eyes and sighed. He played like he was acting but it sure felt good to be underneath that muscled bicep. They stayed that way until they got back to their hotel. It was interesting how easily their steps coordinated when they walked and how Michaels fit so comfortably in the cave of Judge’s armpit. They circled around the block and approached from the back entrance. Michaels opened their door and Bookem slowly trotted over to a couple pillows Judge had thrown on the floor in the corner for him. Michaels noticed that Bookem was favoring his front legs, like his back ones were aching. He had no doubt they were. He’d find a way to mention it to Judge later. The guy was way too sensitive about his dog. But Michaels had grown to like the big beast in the short amount of time he’d been with him.
“I’ll take the first watch.” Michaels said, pulling one of the comfortable chairs up to the window. He turned and looked at Judge. “Besides, you must be ravaged… exhausted.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Judge frowned.
Michaels just barely suppressed his laugh. “From driving I mean.” He turned and plopped down in the chair loving the irritated grunt Judge threw his way.
Chapter Twenty-One
Judge pulled his shirt from over his head and tossed it on the bed. So the little bastard thinks he one-up’d’ me with his little erotic-nympho shower performance. I’ll show him, and soon. Judge was tired, he couldn’t argue that. It was just before dusk and they hadn’t eaten any solid food since early that morning. He looked at the take-out menus next to the television. Chinese, Thai, Pizza, Mexican. “What do you want to eat?”
“You going out to get something?” Michaels said not even looking up from the book he was reading. He’d shed his boots and socks before he propped them up on the small dinette table. His feet actually looked hot.
Judge huffed. “No. I’m gonna order. You know what, never mind, you’ll eat what I order you.” The slight chuckle Michaels gave him instead of bothering to even look in his direction pissed him off even more.
Judge decided on Chinese and ordered a lot of different things. Michaels had to like something in there. The leftovers they could put in the fridge. Judge stretched out on the bed and turned on football game that he wasn’t the least bit interested in. He stroked his beard as he fell into a deep thought. Thoughts about a man that was taking up too much of his thoughts. He glanced over at him. Took in his strong physique, that coarse square jaw, and those eyes, eyes blue like Montana sky. Michaels was reading, and smiling at whatever was in those pages. His smile was charming, not a full-on teeth and gums smile, just a slight crook of his mouth. Judge was very curious now. “What are you reading?”
Michaels looked up, startled out of the fiction world he’d retreated to. “Nothing you know.”
Judge sat up straight. “You think I don’t fuckin’ read.” He grumbled.
“No.” Michaels said slowly. “I think you don’t know what I’m reading, since it’s a cheesy romance novel. Damn, man. Why are you so defensive? I thought I was the high-strung one.”
Judge felt stupid for real. Why was he snapping at him? Because Michaels had reversed the game on him and fucked him good… that’s why. “You read romance novels… like Danielle Steele type shit.”
Michaels looked at him for a while before he finally answered. “Not that mainstream, but yeah, I read romance novels. I don’t want to read no fuckin’ mystery, action, or some dramatic crime story.” Michaels huffed an indignant laugh, tossing the book on the table. He steepled his hands together, despondently staring out the window. “I live those types of novels every day.”
But you don’t live romance. Michaels didn’t have to say that, it was implied and hung out th
ere in the open like a bright sign. Judge watched him for a minute, not quite knowing what to say. So he didn’t say anything for a while. He absently watched the game and thought of what life would be like with a partner. Like his friend lived. God and Day shared every aspect of their lives together, and they actually looked happy. Judge didn’t think he was built that way… not anymore.
“So what’s your partner like? Is he straight?” He figured it a safe question to ask. God had quite a few gay officers on his squad. He couldn’t imagine anyone working that closely with Michaels every day and not trying to get into his pants. He hadn’t been able to resist.
“I don’t have a partner. I’m a sniper. But if I have to do surveillance, I do it alone.”
He and Judge watched each other. Way more alike than they ever thought. When Michaels narrowed his eyes and rose up in his chair, Judge jumped up and went over to the window. “What? What is it?”
“She’s getting something out of the car is all.” Michaels answered, the binoculars up to his eyes. “A grocery bag maybe.”
Judge stood with his arms crossed, watching Michaels as he watched their target.
“Now she’s fawning over a dog.”
“A dog.”
“Yeah, someone walking by with a Golden Retriever. She’s petting it.”
“Does it look suspicious?”
“No.” Michaels put the binoculars down. “Looks like she likes dogs though. She’s headed back inside now.”
The knock on the door startled them both. Bookem sat up but didn’t bark, he was alert as he accompanied him to the door. It was a lot of food. He put it all on the small counter top and rambled off to Michaels what he had.
“I’ll have the chicken teriyaki and the shrimp with broccoli.”