Don't Judge (Nothing Special 4)

Judge drove at a moderate speed past Switch’s girlfriend’s house. A small one-story ranch style home with blue shutters. It was after six and there was only one light on in the front of the house. A red Toyota Corolla was parked in the driveway, along with a broken down Chevy Impala. They already knew what the woman drove. The Impala was also registered to her but hadn’t been operational in months. They couldn’t stop in front of the house so they continued to their hotel, which sure enough was just up the block. There were enough businesses and homes on the street for them to blend in. Judge took note of the black Town Car parked in a McDonald’s parking lot across from their hotel. The man inside gave them a quick nod while they waited in the turning lane.

“That must be God’s Miami PD contact,” Michaels said. His voice was hoarse and gravelly.

“Yeah. Text God and tell him to call him off.” Judge popped another sugar cane in his mouth. He didn’t feel the urge for a cigarette but he needed to have something to do with his mouth… his hands.

Michaels pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a simple text. Judge pulled around to the side of the motel and told Michaels to go check them in while he walked Bookem. Michaels looked a little calmer than he had back at the truck stop, but was still clearly wired. There wasn’t much on the side of the motel, but there were a few bushes along the back of the parking lot where Bookem could do his business. He saw Michaels walking along the open hallway, checking the numbers on each door. He used a keycard to open up room 325, three levels up. Judge locked eyes with him right before he went inside. Turning to look up the street to the girlfriend’s, it looked to be a good vantage point to do their surveillance. He stayed outside a while, trying to let Bookem get in some exercise since he’d soon be closed up in the room. His phone buzzed a text notification. He had a quick fantasy that it was Michaels texting him to tell him to hurry up and come upstairs, that he was naked and waiting on him to fuck him right. But when he pulled out his phone he saw it was from Duke. Shaking his head at his foolishness, he opened the message.

“you coming back anytime soon… got a job… a big one”

Judge wasn’t sure why he didn’t respond right away, he usually did. A big job, of course he wanted it. But the past couple days he’d been wanting something more than the next big job. He sighed and tucked his phone back in his pocket. What is up with me? Judge whistled for Bookem, and they took the stairs to their floor. Michaels had left the door cracked for him. The room looked a helluva lot more comfortable than that rat hole they’d been in the previous night. The two queen-size beds looked comfortable with their starched, white sheets and a gray and white comforter folded in half. The television was nestled inside a huge armoire with several take out menus tucked beside it. There was also a small kitchenette equipped with a two-burner stove, dorm-style fridge, and microwave. Too bad he couldn’t boil water. He scanned the rest of the amenities. It was nice. He wished he had an efficient assistant like God did, to take care of the little things when he was on the road.

Judge dropped his bag on the bed closest to the window. Bookem did his regular tour while Judge peeked out the window. The black Town Car was gone, so now it was up to them to do the watching. The house was quiet, the Corolla still in the driveway. Later he’d walk Bookem up the street to get a better look at how many entrances there were to the home. See if Switch could slip in through a back door or window without them noticing.

The sound of the shower running quickly brought Judge out of his wandering thoughts. Michaels in the next room, naked and wet, took precedence over everything else. He dug in his bag and retrieved some necessities and removed his shirt and his pants. He stood in the door to the bathroom, watching the beautiful specimen behind the glass shower doors. He wasn’t washing anymore; he had both toned arms braced against the tile wall, his head hanging low so the water could beat on his neck. If the steamy room was any indication, he had the water on as hot as he could stand it. Judge stripped out of his boxers, his heart beating wildly. What if Michaels fought him, didn’t want the kind of therapy his dick could provide? Well then, I’ll leave him alone. He pulled open one of the doors, but Michaels didn’t turn around, which he took as a good sign. The shower was big enough for the both of them, but Judge sealed himself to Michaels’ slick back, nestling his throbbing cock against that hot ass. He slammed the condom and lube on the small shelf directly in front of Michaels’ face. Symbolically telling him what was about to happen.