Judge brought the containers over and set them on the table along with his own 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 pull that juicy bottom lip between his teeth and bite until Michaels snapped 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 white wife beater, a simple gold cross hung from a chain around his neck. It wasn’t there before. It was beautiful against his light skin. Judge shifted in his seat and Michaels’ eyes snapped 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 that each thought were 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 they’d taken 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 right away, 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 finally felt 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 retorted, and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t worry about the thugs right then. 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 gotten his eyes good and closed when he felt something touching his chest. He twisted away from the touch, 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’s 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 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 sensation 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 good,” he moaned, pushing his erection into the hard thigh he was straddling.