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Judge moved his mouth across Michaels’ dark blond stubble, rubbing his own beard against it before going back to tasting. He smelled so clean, ready for the taking, but not right now. Michaels was tired, he could tell. One thing Judge did was take good, complete care of what was his. He enjoyed Michaels’ moans for a bit longer, sucking his ear, pushing his tongue inside to sample there, too. He snaked his hand down and cupped Michaels’ hard cock, rubbing his thumb around the wetness at the tip. Michaels groaned, snapping his hips harder, seeking out more contact. “You wanna be my lover, Austin?” Judge whispered, tracing his tongue around the shell of Michaels’ ear.
“Yes. Fuck, yes,” Michaels whispered and moaned at the same time.
Judge gripped the towel still draped around Michaels’ neck and fisted it in his hands, pulling Michaels’ upper body snug against him. Not an inch of space between their large chests. He rubbed his beard against Michaels’ mouth, and felt him thrust his cock forward again. Michaels pulled harder, trying to get Judge to move them towards the large king-size bed waiting so nicely for them in the center of the room. “You wanna be mine?” Judge paused and sucked hard on Michaels tongue, then spoke into his hot mouth. “Then you’ll do what I say.”
Michaels looked at him. Maybe trying to assess exactly what Judge meant. He was pleased when Michaels nodded his head once. “Good.” Judge kissed Michaels again. Just a little more to hold him until after he’d made sure Michaels was rested. Damn, it’d been ages since he’d made out. Forgot how damn intoxicating kissing could be. Michaels’ hand was on his beard, those nimble fingers threading through the wispy hairs making Judge rock hard.
It started all over again as an energetic and passionate kiss that went on until it became a spent kiss, until the storm settled and it turned into a languid kiss filled with exhaustion. Judge tore his mouth away and Michaels chased him, pulled him back to him and tugged on Judge’s beard until his mouth opened back up and Michaels dove back in. Judge chuckled lightly while Michaels devoured him. “Sexy bastard.”
“Fuck me,” Michaels hissed, “Right now.”
Judge had to exert some of his authority. “No.” He clasped Michaels’ hands and held them in between their chests. “Right now, I’m gonna give you some pain relievers. Then you rest. You’ve been up for almost forty-eight hours.”
“So have you,” Michaels snapped back. “Besides, I already took something. I’m good.”
Judge held on to Michaels’ wrist with one hand and used the other to weave through Michaels’ damp hair, gripping a handful of it. To soothe the sting, he placed feather-light kisses on Michaels’ bruised side. “Later,” he whispered against the marks.
Walking Michaels back over to the bed, he eased him down on the rich comforter. “Rest, lover.”
Judge hit the lights on the way out and closed the door.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Michaels woke with a start, huffing… trying to catch his breath from the nightmare he was having. He rubbed his hand over his chest, wiping at the dampness. Goddamnit. He dreamed they were on the run again and this time the thugs had cornered them. He was just about to sacrifice himself so Judge could go free. A loud shot rang in his ears and made him jolt awake right before the bullet pierced his chest.
It was pitch-dark in the room, meaning he must have slept all day. Damn, that’s what Vicodin always did to him. He had a prescription for when he’d hurt his back tackling a suspect a few months ago. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and saw it was just after eight. He’s slept almost ten hours. The right side of his face was sore, the left side tender with beard burn. Regardless that smiling made his face ache; he couldn’t stop it when he thought about his and Judge’s kiss. That mind-consuming-all-encompassing-soul-searching kiss. And did Judge say that Michaels was his? He was about to search the suite for him and find out. Damn these bruises. He’d done what he was told. He’d rested. It was time for him to be rewarded for being such a good boy. Michaels smirked. He went in the bathroom and wiped the sweat off himself, swished some mouthwash around in his mouth, and went in the main room to find his man.
There were two large pizza boxes on the kitchen countertop and five or six two-liter sodas. Michaels opened the fridge and saw there was water inside, too. Had Judge left and gone to the store? What did he do with Switch? Michaels went in the other room and opened the door. He met some resistance at first and then noticed it was Bookem’s massive body blocking it. He was greeted with an energetic nip at his hand and Michaels gave the dog some reassuring pats. Switch was sprawled out on the bed watching television, a glass of soda sat on the nightstand and a plate on the bed with only crusts remaining. Switch didn’t acknowledge him, he just kept his focus on the TV, so Michaels closed the door and left.
