by A. E. Via
“No. Well. I hope not. We’re tracking the girlfriend now, so hopefully she sticks with her plan. God said she was gone before the shooting so maybe she didn’t get spooked.” Judge finally answered. There’s no definites or surety in my line of work Michaels. It’s mostly instincts and then thinking like a caged beast. Because that’s what fugitives and criminals on the run are. Desperate animals trying to stay free. Switch is going to stop at nothing to get out of the country. My gut tells me to keep waiting… he’ll show up on Friday as scheduled.
“Why the hell do you think the Navigator came after us?”
“Somehow they made us.”
“They can’t know I’m law enforcement.” Michaels frowned.
“Probably not. They could think we’re after Switch for the same reasons as them and were trying to eliminate us.” Judge looked over at him and winked. “You do look street bad in clothes like that and I probably look like your enforcer.”
Michaels liked the wink a little too much. Damn he was so girly. “Street bad, huh.”
Judge stopped at a red light and turned that hot obsidian gaze on him. His voice was a husky rumble that had Michaels’ cock firming even more, “yeah you do.”
Michaels hummed and nodded his head. “If you so say.” Silence stretched out again.
“So what are you cooking tonight?” Judge asked expectantly.
Michaels busted out laughing. It felt great to do it too since it’d been so long.
“What? What’s so funny?” Judge smirked. “You said you were cooking for me.”
Michaels wiped his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I just… with everything that just happened and all.”
“It’s only a little after eight and I’m still starving, even more after all that damn running.” Judge turned down a one-way street of non-stop shops and restaurants. “You said you would cook.”
Michaels lowered his voice, all humor aside. “You said I’d get to kiss you.”
Judge’s voice was serious. “And I’m a man of my word.”
“Take me to a grocery store.”
********
Judge waited in the truck in front of the Publix Supermarket for Michaels to get some stuff for dinner. He had Michaels phone in his hand making sure the red dot hadn’t moved. God’s IT guys had put a tracking on the girlfriends phone number, now they knew where she was at all times without constantly watching out the window. He really needed this kind of resources. It’d make shit a whole lot easier. What if he did have God’s resources available to him at all times? Everyone had contacts. He’d lived in the same city as Godfrey all these years and had never thought to ask him for any favors, now that the bad motherfucker ran an entire damn task force. Maybe he could…
The door opened in the back and Judge turned to see what Michaels had. There was only four bags but they looked full. “Got everything you needed?”
Michaels slammed the back door and got back in the front. “I think so. Got breakfast and lunch too.”
“Mmmm. Good boy.” Oh fuck. Judge clenched his jaw. He really didn’t mean to growl that but it just happened. Michaels was way too bullheaded to be called ‘boy’. Judge glanced over and saw Michaels covering his smirk with his fist while he stared out his window. Noted.
Judge circled the block a couple times before he pulled into their hotel. Of course there was no black Navigator but they didn’t see any other suspicious vehicles either. Judge was comfortable that God and Day would handle that end of their headache. His sole focus was his catch, always has been. Outsiders he dealt with quickly, meaning he usually ignored them, but when someone does a drive-by on you, it can’t be disregarded.
Michaels went upstairs to cook their dinner while he walked and catered to his dog. It felt oddly domestic. He smiled before he even realized it. Maybe he did like the idea of settling down, just had to have the right guy put those thoughts there. Judge chewed on his cane. He wasn’t partner material though, in the work or life sense. He was old and set in his grouchy ways. Michaels might play with him while they were on the road, get his itch scratched – and Judge would enjoy it immensely – but when the gorgeous young stud got back to his real life and a fresh young, blonde stallion walks by with a trim body, perfectly groomed hair and not an ounce of gray in it, Judge would be yesterday’s trash. Judge coughed, startled by the annoyance he felt at that assumption.
It was going to be him and Bookem. That’s it. The realization was pitiful. He was no different than his spinster aunt and her two cats. All day she sat in her rocking chair with one or both in her lap and watched episode after episode of The Golden Girls. “Augh, Jesus.” Judge shook his head trying to dislodge the images. He picked up a rock and angrily threw it across the asphalt. His fate sounded shitty as hell, but at least he had his companion. According to his vet, he wouldn’t have him much longer if he didn’t make some serious changes. He’d had Bookem on the road for many years, but tonight he appeared stressed. As Judge walked, Bookem hung back, his head low to the ground. Judge sighed. He had to get Book in a better living environment. He’d bought a great home in Fulton County on the outskirts of Atlanta. His two story, three bedroom was purchased dirt cheap. It was a foreclosure that was a complete fixer-upper. When he’d got it, it wasn’t livable until he got a new roof done and the plumbing installed. Now it was a great way for him to relieve stress. He’d go home and do construction on his home until his body ached and instead of thinking of his life or his isolation, all he could do was sleep.
He still had to let Michaels kiss him. He think he’d prepped himself enough. This was simply some on-the-road fun like he’d had many times before. He was simply bending a few rules. No big deal. It was different to work with a partner again after so many years doing it alone, but this was only temporary. Temporary.
Judge’s nose was assaulted with the smell of well-seasoned, searing meat as soon as he walked into the room. Michaels was standing barefoot, bare-chested at the mini stove in a pair of low-riding sweats that clearly informed Judge that he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. There was a towel draped over his shoulder that he used to dry his wet hair while he flipped what looked like a T-bone steak with the fork in his other hand. Judge tried not to gawk but it was hard… very hard… among other things.
“You have time to shower. Still plenty of hot water.” Michaels said without turning around. Judge heard him whistle and Bookem hurried over to him, happily taking a piece of cooked beef from Michaels’ fingers tips. He patted Bookem on his head, talking nonsense to him while he went about preparing their late dinner.
Judge couldn’t’ watch another minute. He grabbed his toiletries kit and got into the bathroom like it was a place of refuge. He leaned back against the door and closed his eyes taking a couple deep breaths. Seeing Michaels treat his dog like that was like watching how a new love interest interacts with your kids. He was amazing with Bookem and it was obviously Book liked him a whole lot too. It pulled at Judge’s heart. Food wasn’t the quickest way to his heart – although it helped – but Bookem was. Most men simply feared him and didn’t want him anywhere around. Judge would simply fuck them quickly and send them on their way. Michaels was not the norm. He was partner material. Judge turned on the taps and grimaced at his next thought. Michaels was going to make some man very happy one day.
Judge was clipping the stray ends of his beard when there was light tapping at the door before it was cracked open. Judge stopped and looked in Michaels’ radiant blue eyes.
“The food is ready.” He said.
Judge turned back to the mirror. “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Okay.” Michaels said but didn’t move. He met Judge’s gaze in the mirror, making him slightly self-conscious.
“What?” Judge asked regretfully, thinking Michaels would say something fucked up like ‘he should cut off his beard, it might make him look younger.’
“I was just watching.” He turned to leave but stopped and looked back at him in the mirror. “Don’t
trim too much, I like it thick with a little length on it. And don’t you dare touch those grays.”
Judge was slack-mouthed as Michaels closed the door and left him to finish grooming. More warmth and joy spread through Judge’s core, but doubt was quick on its heels. Could he really like Judge’s beard and his sprinkled in grays? It made no sense. Especially with Michaels being so young. Judge rinsed off his scissors and threw them back into his bag hard. He was sick of second guessing himself all of a sudden. That wasn’t him. Judge was who he was, take it or leave it. He could care less what the hotshot dick thought… he desperately tried to convince himself.
Chapter Twenty-five
Michaels didn’t want it to look like he was trying too hard. Like he was trying to make it appear they were having a dinner date or something, so he made up Judge’s plate and left it in the kitchenette with a paper towel covering it and he sat down at the table with his. He peeked at his open laptop and made sure that Switch’s girlfriend was still at home. The bright red light blinking on the enlarged map would tell him if she steps foot out her door. The IT guys had hooked them up. Now they didn’t have to stare out the window with binoculars all night. He laughed when he heard a crackle and a loud crunch. He looked behind him and saw Bookem was as snug as a bug on his pillow chewing the large Milk-Bone treat he’d picked up for him at the store.
Michaels knew he was taking a liking to Judge... hell even the dog. The man had loosened up substantially and Michaels hadn’t felt like kicking anyone’s teeth in in over twenty-four hours. That was rare as of lately. Not even the assholes that were shooting at them had made him flip out. Michaels definitely wanted to kill them but he wasn’t angry. That horrible burn that flowed through his veins when he was really mad that made him feel like his skin was being poked with a zillion hot needles had been absent since Judge had fucked him. Damn, he didn’t want to lose that.
Judge was in the bathroom getting sexy for him. Grooming that wonderful beard that he’d come to obsess over. He had to stare at Judge’s eyes in that steamed-up mirror or else he would’ve eye-fucked the hell out of him, in nothing but a towel, tied low around those… Michaels dropped his fork as soon as Judge stepped out of the bathroom. Goddamn. He tracked Judge’s every movement. He still wore nothing but that dang-blasted towel, all that slick black chest hair on full display. Michaels’ mouth watered and it had nothing to do with the perfectly cooked steak he’d been eating.
Judge got his plate and a bottle of water out of the fridge and came and sat down in front of Michaels completely unaware of his inner agony.
“Wow. This looks really good. I’ll gladly suffer later if this taste half as good as it looks.” Judge said cutting a big chunk of his steak.
Michaels frowned. “Suffer. What do you mean?”
“I usually don’t eat late. Especially a big meal. It sits on my stomach like lead and I feel so sluggish in the morning.” Judge shrugged. “Side effect of being hold.”
Michaels scoffed. “You’re not old, Judge. What are you… thirty-five, thirty-seven?”
Judge looked at him for a while, his jaws working as he ate the juicy meat. Michaels began to think he’d insulted him until Judge smiled and shook his head ‘no’.
“I’m a little older than that. You see the gray.” Judge used his fork to point at his hair.
“What’s that have to do with anything? My dad’s been gray since he was twenty-seven. My mom always said she loved that about him.” Michaels’ laughed. “Premature graying runs in our family. I’ll start to get a lot more soon. The dirty blonde makes it difficult to see sometimes but I’ve got some in there two and I’m thirty-two.” Michaels looked at Judge like he wanted to devour him instead of his food. “I find gray on man extremely sexy.”
Judge returned the look before reaching down boldly and adjusting himself underneath the thin cotton he had over his groin, then he went back to eating in nothing but that fuckin’ towel! Michaels tried to keeps his eyes on the television that was playing some dumbass reality weight loss show instead of on Judge’s thick pecs. But after only a couple minutes he was back to staring hypnotically.
Judge’s deep voice abruptly broke him out of his trance. “It’s good.”
“Huh? What? Oh. Yeah. Great. Good. Thanks.” Michaels blurted crazily. What the fuck? He was a mess. A horny, scattered, crazy mess. Was Judge doing that on purpose? He looked cool as a cucumber.
Judge looked at him curiously before he continued. “What’s Book got over there?”
Michaels hoped he hadn’t overstepped his bounds. “A uhh. A Milk-Bone. Is that alright? I thought he deserved something for his hard day too.”
Judge was just staring at him quizzically before he silently dug back into his food. Damn he hoped he hadn’t fucked that up. He was still kicking himself when Judge spoke up again. “The food is really good. Way better than some greasy burger or whatever. Who taught you how to cook?”
Michaels looked down at his half eaten steak. It was cooked perfectly, so was the steamed broccoli with cheese and the mashed potatoes – although they were instant – they came out pretty good after he spruced them up. The pots and pans that were provided wasn’t as nice as his but they didn’t burn his food up. He wished he could really cook for Judge. He’d make him a meal fit for a king.
“My mom taught me some of the basics ya’know. I’ve lived alone since I was nineteen, couldn’t’ eat Denny’s every day.” Michaels smiled and Judge smiled back. “But having been to so many get-togethers, barbeques, game nights, poker nights at God and Days’, I sort of hung out with Day in the kitchen and I’ve picked up on quite a bit. Day loves to show off too, some of the recipes I don’t think I’ll ever get right. But its fun trying. Besides, while all the other guys were hugged up with their partners I had to entertain myself somehow.” Michaels shrugged like it didn’t matter much. But honestly he didn’t want Judge to see his hurt. To see that he longed for his own partner too. Someone that complimented him perfectly.
God’s name was incomplete unless you added the ‘and Day’ behind. Green and Ruxs were practically combined identities. And don’t even let him get started on Syn and Furi, jeez’, anytime those two were together the temperature in the room was like the Sahara Desert.
Michaels and Judge…hmmmm… Austin and Judge… Judge and Austin.
Well damn. Next thing Michaels knew he’d be doodling on the jacket of his romance novel, ‘Austin loves Judge.’ inside of a heart with an arrow drawn through it.
“Day can cook, huh?” Judge said, shoving another large heaping of potatoes in his mouth.
Michaels’ pfftd. “Can he? The guy should have a damn cooking show. Did you know he’s actually best friends with Prescott Vaughan the master chef? It’s crazy. He and Day dated in college and he taught him how to cook.”
“I bet. I’m sure he and Day cooked real good together.” Judge winked again.
“Man.” Michaels warned. “You better not say that in front of God, he’ll go batshit.”
Judge and Michaels laughed as he continued to tell Judge some of the crazy stories about his old-time friend, and Michaels couldn’t believe some of the wild shit God did when he was an enlisted man in the military. Judge was laughing so hard he was wiping the corners of his eyes with his napkin. He looked so carefree and handsome when he was genuinely enjoying himself. Laugh lines crinkled in the corners of those onyx colored eyes that seemed to brighten and shimmer. When both of them were finished, Michaels stood and picked up his plate, grabbing for Judge’s empty one too. His wrist was grabbed before he could walk away with them.
“Hey.” Judge whispered hoarsely. “Thank you for making dinner.”
“It’ll be worth it.” Michaels said seductively, looking deep into Judge’s shadowy eyes.
Judge released him, a faint shade of crimson creeping up his throat and hiding behind his beard. Michaels’ chucked softly, his skin tingling with warmth from Judge’s firm touch. He washed the couple of plates and the pots and p
ut the small space back in order for morning. He hoped to really impress Judge when he woke up to bacon, eggs, and his specialty… blueberry pancakes in the morning. If he was home, he’d make him that breakfast casserole that Day brings in some mornings and finally taught Michaels how to make it.
“You want a beer.” He called to Judge.
“No.”
Michaels turned around in surprise. “No?”
Judge stood and sauntered over to him taking the two beers out of his hand and putting them back in the refrigerator. Michaels watched with curiosity. Judge leaned in to him, their mouths only inches apart. Judge’s masculine scent was all over him and it excited him to no end, especially when he was getting ready to know and smell Judge very intimately. With his back against the small counter, Judge braced both hands on either side of him trapping him between his bulk and the unyielding surface behind him. “I want to make good on my deal now.” Judge whispered.
“I wouldn’t mind that right now.” Michaels smiled.
Judge leaned in but Michaels turned so that Judge’s lips landed on his cheek. He felt the big man chuckle agasint the side of his jaw. “Playing hard to get.”
“Not my style.” Michaels licked Judge’s neck, running his fingers through his beard as he did. Judge groaned and inched forward until his erection was pressing against his. Michaels moved fast, taking Judge’s arm and twisting it, spinning him around until Judge was facing the counter.
“Got some moves on you, sweetheart. I’ll give you that.” Judge laughed provocatively.
Michaels pushed against the center of Judge’s back, urging him to bend forward as he dropped to his knees pulling his towel off that round ass.
“W-what are you doing?” Judge stuttered.
“Getting my kiss.”
“Wait a minute. Not… not there.” Judge argued still not pulling away.
“Are you going back on your word, Judge?” Michaels tsked again. “That’s not like you.”