Judge clicked his teeth and Bookem immediately settled down. “What the fuck are you doing? Didn’t I show you what he’d do if you went for that window?”
“I wasn’t going for the window. I need to take a piss,” Switch said angrily, pacing back and forth.
Judge nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Go.”
Switch ambled to the other side of Judge and hurried out the door, rushing across the hall to the bathroom. The sound of a steady stream of piss hit his ears a second later and Judge hoped the man hadn’t pissed on the floor before he made it to the toilet. Judge rubbed the back of his neck, calming his nerves. He was so far past unprofessional. He’d never mixed business and pleasure, but he was beyond that blurred line now; he thought, fuck it. As long as the job got done. He could hear the shower running in the other bedroom and cursed at the way his cock began to rise to attention when he pictured Michaels in there soapy and wet.
“Hey. You got some toothpaste, mouthwash, razors or something so I can clean up, too?” Switch called from the bathroom.
Judge unfolded his arms and pushed off the hallway wall. “Stay, Book,” Judge ordered and walked into the living room to get his toiletries bag. He pulled out an extra toothbrush, his toothpaste and a disposable razor. He tossed the items on the sink and leaned back against the wall, leaving the bathroom door wide open.
“Can you take these off, so I can clean myself?” Switch gestured at the wrist shackles.
“Nope. You got plenty of room.”
“I can’t use disposable razors, man. It gives me razor bumps.” Switch looked at him incredulously.
Judge scoffed and rolled his eyes. “If I were you buddy, with where you’re going; I wouldn’t be worried about looking pretty.”
Switch threw the razor on the floor. “Fuck you.” Dropping his head and bracing the sink, Switch bristled. Judge had his firearm at his side, ready if Switch wanted to press his luck.
“Move it. Either clean up or get back in your room. I don’t care. But I’m not going to watch your temper tantrum,” Judge snarled.
“I can make you rich,” Switch whispered. “I’m willing to give you one hundred thousand dollars. Cash. Today. Just… before he finishes.” Switch pointed to the other room. Hurrying to plead his case. “Just tell Detective Michaels I escaped. I can wire the money to you. I swear I will. You can be rich and retire.”
Judge stepped into the bathroom and Switch’s eyes lit up like Judge was about to accept his offer. Instead, Judge struck out and backhanded Switch across his cheek like the little bitch he sounded like. Switch’s head snapped back, his eyes going wide with surprise.
“What the fuck, man?”
Bookem let loose a couple warning barks and Judge stepped back out into the hall, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall like he was bored. “First of all. One hundred grand is far from rich. Second. You could’ve said one hundred million and I’d still be insulted. Obviously you know nothing of honor, that’s why I’m taking your dumb ass to prison. Now shut the fuck up and finish in here or else you can go back to your room, and your ass will be nice and filthy when you go through booking and get your cavity check.”
“Judge?” Michaels called out to him.
“I’m right here hon—” Judge stopped abruptly. Caught himself. He was about to call Michaels honey. Jesus Christ. Thank goodness Switch was already in the shower or surely he would’ve caught it. Maybe Michaels had too, but he didn’t let on if he did.
“Everything cool?” Michaels came around the corner in a pair of basketball shorts, his chest still wet from his shower. His hair looked darker than normal and it was slicked straight back, Judge smiled because he looked Italian. With that strong Roman nose and square jaw, one side covered in bruises, add in the man’s temper and feisty attitude, he may actually be part Italian.
“What are you smiling at?” Michaels purred, walking closer to him.
Judge pulled Michaels to him and pinned him against the wall, crowding into him. He didn’t say a word. Just dipped down and placed a tender kiss against those perfect lips. There was no longer any urgency; Judge didn’t feel like he had to get all he could now because for the first time, he felt there could be a later.
“You smell good,” Judge mumbled distractedly, being extra careful as he kissed the dark bruises on the right side of Michaels’ face. “You feel good, too.”
Michaels hummed appreciatively, tunneling his fingers through Judge’s beard. As soon as he did, Judge’s cock went from semi-erect to hard enough to drill for oil. He felt like an over-eager teen all over again. He groaned and nipped at Michaels’ mouth again, just demanding entrance when he heard the shower cut off. They needed to separate but neither of them moved. Judge held Michaels’ blazing eye contact until the detective glanced towards the bathroom, yanking them back to what they should be focused on.