Don't Judge Quotes

“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”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“So the little bastard thinks he one-upped me with his little erotic-nympho shower performance. I’ll show him, and soon.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge didn’t have a reason in hell to be self-conscious. That cock of his was everything Michaels had hoped it would be since the moment Judge had mentioned using it on him, but probably since he first saw him in Atlanta. It wasn’t his fault that Michaels had lost his shit and ridden that lead pipe like a starving whore. He should be the one embarrassed, if for no other reason than that sappy kiss. Why had he done that? He knew Judge didn’t kiss, why was he forcing it? It had been the kind of kiss you gave a lover. Judge wasn’t his lover. Definitely not. He”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“you coming back anytime soon… got a job… a big one” Judge”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Say it, Son. Before I die.” Judge braced his hands on the windowsill, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. “It’s not gonna happen. I’m not gonna fall in love with him.” Was he trying to convince his father or himself? “He’s a warrior, JJ. But no one can live forever, Son. But I know that Austin won’t go early and he won’t go without a serious fight.” Judge”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Son.” His father looked at him with watery eyes. “Don’t push this one away, Son. He’s good for you. Strong and confident… just like you.” “Dad.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge stood tall and gestured for Michaels to walk ahead of him. “You didn’t get a good enough view of my ass last night?” he whispered on his way by. Judge grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his chest. “No. But I will.” They”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Michaels gently extracted his hand, patting hers. “I just showered, so I’m sure they’re clean. It’s fine, I promise.” She smiled sweetly. “Oh, okay. I hope Judge, Jr. wasn’t too hard on you last night.” Michaels looked up at Judge over Linda’s head. His eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, yes ma’am. He was very hard.” Judge’s”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Last night’s memories flooded over him like a tsunami. He’d been tipsy, but not drunk. He remembered it all, every single mind-blowing-intensely-erotic-second of it. Well if he wasn’t sure, the crusty substance on his back was a clear indication. Asshole. Could’ve got a rag. Michaels”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“It wasn’t supposed to happen, but Judge lost it. He lost his load all over that sweet, taut ass. His orgasm dancing to the sexy song Michaels sang for him with those sensual noises. Damn it was good, one of the best he’d had, and he didn’t even penetrate him. Judge was shaky on his feet. He held Michaels close to his body while they rode out their orgasms, both of them drunk off each other. Dropping his hands down, Michaels slumped back against the wall, dead on his feet, like he could sleep right there. Judge groaned and rotated his neck. He’d done his job. Michaels was calm and completely satisfied… for now. He”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“How had he lost the upper hand so quickly? His dick jerked and wept like it had found the happiest place on earth. He was gonna come, but he’d be damned if he did it before Michaels. He dropped his arm from around Michaels’ chest and gripped him on his hip, using it to slam that sexy ass back into him while he jerked him fast with the other. He felt Michaels’ dick jump in his fist and knew it was time. Good because he was past time. “Fuckin’ come,” he hissed, snapping his hips forward at the same time he squeezed the head of Michaels’ dick. He went down on that length one more time, squeezed hard, twisted his palm and shot his fist back up, wrenching the first spurt of hot come from it. Yesssss. Michaels grunted with the next spurt and worked his ass hard against Judge’s aching dick. The sounds he made were delicious and wicked. Sounds he’d never heard a man make. Masculine but erotic as hell. Not ashamed to show Judge how much he’d pleased him. It”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“He wasn’t even sure; his own head was probably spinning as hard as the man he held. He hadn’t noticed Michaels had taken his hands off the wall until he felt them pulling at his belt, quickly unbuckling it and pulling at the button on his leathers. He should’ve stopped him, but something beyond his comprehension held him back from doing so. Michaels may be drunk and doped up on rage, but he was focused on what he wanted. The way those fingers were working, he wanted Judge’s dick… now. With one hand he worked to free Judge and with his other hand he pulled the back of his jeans and briefs down, revealing a pale, round, furry ass to Judge’s already hazy vision. Oh my god. With his forehead on Michaels’ shoulder he watched his zipper get pulled down and his cock yanked free. Damn if the warmth from Michaels’ calloused palm didn’t make him stagger. They both moaned in ecstasy while he fought to regain control, pushing forward again, flushing them back against the wall. Michaels didn’t stroke Judge’s cock for long, but what he did to him next made his eyes cross. Michaels arched his back and nestled Judge’s hard, pulsing length in the crack of his ass and rocked back and forth, aggressively grinding him extremely close to orgasm while he alternated thrusting his cock into Judge’s palm. Strong arms snaked behind his head, clasping around his neck, using him as leverage. How”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge ground himself against Michaels’ ass again, content with taking a little for himself too. “Does it feel like a joke?” His dick was hard and aching behind his own zipper. It was torturous and dangerous. Honestly that shit was getting exciting. He was pissed at first about the fight, but things were getting interesting. The fiery detective had many layers to him that Judge was going to enjoy unveiling little by little. Judge slowed his stroke. Relished the length and girth Michaels was blessed with. No wonder that punk bastard was begging in that email. Goddamn. It’d been a long damn time since he’d enjoyed a thick cock up… No. Fuck no! Michaels bucked in his arms, jolting Judge out of his thoughts. Squeezing tighter, Judge worked him from base to tip, twisting the cap before going back down and repeating over and over. Michaels shuddered and cursed in his arms, letting his head fall back on Judge’s shoulder. If he turned his head, he could kiss that coarse cheek; run his mouth and nose all the way down that alluring smell of testosterone, sweat, and bitterness that clung to Michaels, and bite him hard on that stubborn jaw he liked to jut out in defiance. He could feel how close Michaels was. Liked how he’d accepted defeat in this round. His hands were still braced against the wall, those swollen, bruised knuckles a testament that he’d put up a good fight, but he was no longer pushing. His taut body had gone lax and his jaw slack, panting in rhythm with Judge’s stroking. Oh god, the expression on his face… frowning in deep concentration to take what he needed. He’s fuckin’ beautiful. Jesus. “Judge. Make me come,” Michaels whispered, so painfully that Judge needed to witness the bliss he was getting ready to give the bruised man in his arms. He increased the speed of his fist, the slicking sound obscene in the small, dark room. Michaels was leaking for him, aching, pleading for him. For him to do what he promised. Judge buried his nose at the base of Michaels’ throat and squeezed his eyes shut, damn he couldn’t watch. He ground his hips forward at the same time he pulled Michaels back into him. “Fuuuuck.” Did that come from him?”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge pushed more of his weight against Michaels’ strong back, driving his own erection against that firm ass. “Damn you too… now, come,” Judge said, through clenched teeth. He spit in his palm and rubbed the moisture over the head of Michaels’ dick and stroked him with purpose. Setting an aggressive rhythm.  “No.” Was Michaels’ half-moaned, half-growled response. “Do you think I can’t make you, wild one? I promise I can.” Judge licked behind Michaels’ ear, drawing a strangled breath from him. He took his sugarcane out and tossed it away. “Cuz if not, I’d love the challenge.” “Get”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“His own eyes fluttered when he got a good feel of what Michaels was packing in those sexy jeans. A cock just as thick and long as his own. Fuck.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Difference between me and you sweetheart, is that I know when I need to fight.” Judge kept his arm around Michaels’ sweaty chest and reached down with his other hand and gripped the large bulge pressing against those hard jeans. “And I know when I need to fuck.”  “Ahhh, shit. Stop.” Michaels damn near begged. “No.” Judge rubbed that rigid length harder, keeping it slow, letting it build. He knew the wildman needed it, whether he wanted to admit it or not. His own eyes fluttered when he got a good feel of what Michaels was packing in those sexy jeans. A cock just as thick and long as his own. Fuck. He needed to feel it. Shit. This was supposed to be about Michaels… not him. Michaels let loose a seductive moan that had Judge growling, popping open the button on those pants and yanking the zipper down. He roughly dug inside the tight boxer briefs and freed Michaels’ scorching cock, suppressing his urge to spin the man around and drop to his knees for a better view. Silky smooth skin that burned in his large fist. Why was he so fucking hot… literally? “Damn you,” Michaels hissed, pushing his hips forward. Judge”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge looked over, his jaw clenched tight. I can’t wait to fuck you until that sarcasm turns into begging. Decision made. Detective Michaels would be sent back to his office with his suspect but also thoroughly fucked. “Look, you don’t have to keep eyeing me like that. Being gay ain’t contagious, so unscrew your face.” “Damn,”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge drove down I75, careful not to keep glancing over at his passenger, who he was seeing in a whole new light. This sexy motherfucker is gay. According to that email he’d rudely snagged and read Michaels must be the fuck of the millennium, the way that spineless man was begging for his dick. Was he a fuck buddy gone bad or a one-night stand? Didn’t sound like it. The guy said, “They’d had a good thing once.” Maybe he was an ex. Why do I care? Judge was driving himself crazy with the useless questions. That was not what he did. He got ass when he felt like it, then he moved on. But since he’d found out Michaels’ orientation for sure, he wanted to fuck the cocky sonofabitch next to him so bad that his stomach cramped. How had Judge found himself in this situation? If he could reverse time, he’d go back and tell God “hell no” to this partnership. When he’d finished getting dressed at the hotel, he’d heard the commotion downstairs with the hooker. But Judge didn’t draw attention to himself. He moved through life with a purpose, and anything that wasn’t directly related to that purpose, didn’t receive his time or energy. Imagine his surprise when Michaels appeared out of nowhere and started kicking ass like it was a hobby. All Judge could think about was reprimanding Michaels for being such a bad boy. Judge groaned, trying not to squirm in his seat at the thought of holding the feisty man down and fucking the fight right out of him. Shit. “You”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“You want gratitude sweetheart?” Judge leaned against his back, pressing him into the door. The whisper was erotic but harsh. His mouth so close, his beard tickled his neck. “Stop picking fights that draw attention, and stop walking off with my fuckin’ dog.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“He stepped out to dress, trying to keep his eyes from venturing to the deliciously large male specimen still sound asleep in the other bed. Even without all the leather, he was a sight to see. On his back with one hand under his pillow, very close to his own sleeping position. It was the thick, silky, straight black hair the spanned across that broad chest that had Michaels’ mouth watering. Turn and look away, turn and look away. There was no way a guy like Judge was gay. If those dark eyes popped open and caught him gawking, then he was going to have a whole other set of problems. It”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge tucked one of his guns under his head and put the other underneath the bed closest to the wall. He leaned back on top of the thin comforter and closed his eyes. His dreams immediately ventured to hot, naked sex with a headstrong detective.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“After a couple seconds his eyelids fluttered at the scent that was wafting off Detective Michaels. Damn   ‘em all to hell. He smelled like something he wanted to rut against and come hard on. Fuck. Judge rolled his window down all the way. He’d rather smell the trash on the street than get a hard-on for this good-smelling, eager-to-prove-himself, straight asshole. He chanced a look at Michaels and was shocked to see him slouched and confident riding with him. He had a dark pair of aviator shades on, staring out the window with one hand propped on the door. It was almost as if he didn’t know he was hot. And damnit if that wasn’t sexy in itself.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“He stood in front of Judge, their chest only inches apart. He could smell Judge’s sweet breath from that fucking sugar cane stick, but he held his breath and said his piece. “I’m not here to slow you down. I just want to get this asshole back in prison where he belongs. I’m not concerned about your ethics, your routine, your schedule, your pace, or your goddamn feelings. I’ll do my job and get the fuck out of your way. You’ll never see me again… if I’m lucky.” Michaels yanked his coat of the back of the chair. “I’m gonna step outside.” Judge was staring, his mouth tight. Michaels turned and made a sharp whistle. The dog’s ears pointed up higher turning in his direction. Michaels voice was deep and commanding when he spoke to it. “Come. Go outside with me, big boy.” With his hand lowered, fingertips curved under, Michaels waited while the large Dane sniffed his hand, familiarizing himself with his scent. When he was satisfied that Michaels wasn’t a threat, he happily followed him outside. That oughta show him. He’d walked off with the asshole’s dog. He”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Judge had definitely noticed him, but the man had been quiet the entire time. When Michaels came over to glare at him, Judge had to be sure not to show his surprise or amusement. The bold little fucker. Actually he wasn’t so little. He was tall and built. Compact muscles under smooth, ivory skin. No doubt he was as macho and straight as an arrow, those kinds usually were. Judge was eager to see how the man handled himself.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Now, I’m asking for my favor. Are you going to refuse me, Judge?” Son of a—. Judge gritted his teeth. God knew he’d never go back on his word. God gave him a few minutes to stew in his anger. All eyes were on him, waiting. Reluctantly he asked, “Who is he?” “Detective Austin Michaels,” God replied. His voice and demeanor looked as if he was proud to present this guy. Judge rolled his eyes when he saw Detective Michaels stand up. Of course it had to be him. The sexiest one of them all. Shit.”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Michaels head was down in the one of the files when he heard Ruxs’ deep voice murmur. “Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Chairs”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“God had saved his ass a couple times on the battlefield in their enlisted days. He owed the man, and if nothing else, Judge was a man of his word. “You’re”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“The chopper made a wide circle and came back around, hovered for a few seconds over him and moved forward. Nothing. “Shit,” he yelled. Knowing he’d fucked up. He was their eyes. He was supposed to see everything. Sweat”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Dad, I’m going out in the field later. I’m undercover. Have you forgotten what you used to look like when you were the most respected homicide detective in your squad? Back before you got stuck behind a desk, forced to kiss bureaucratic ass?” His father’s glare was enough to make him back off. “How dare you insult me or my position?” Michaels looked his father in the eye. “I apologize, Sir. That was disrespectful and completely out of line.” “You’re damn right it was.” Michaels sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just don’t know what the hell I have to do to make you proud.” His dad looked at him dolefully before placing his strong hands on both of his shoulders, and turning Michaels to face him. “I am proud of you, son. Everyday. I just—” A sigh escaped his father before he continued. “I just don’t want you limiting yourself. You have the potential to lead, son. It’s in your blood. Following God and Day is not going to put you in that position. You’re the leader, not the follower.” “I can make sergeant, lieutenant and any other rank as long as I continue to be a good cop.  Working with them, I’m able to finally show what I’m capable of. So many departments have egomaniac lieutenants that are so afraid of rules and regulations that they’re barely able to let their detectives make an arrest. I just want to be able to show what I can do, and God and Day let me do that.” “Like dropkicking a man through a window.” He saw the amused glint in his father’s eye. “Yeah. Like that.” Michaels laughed. The story of their last bust - when he’d taken down three men, one of whom he’d kicked through a window - had circulated pretty fast. His father laughed with him, patting his cheek. “I’m damn proud of you, son. I’m just being a father I guess.” “I’m good Dad. Really. I’m happy with what I do. The guys are great, I trust them, and they trust me. We do good work together.” “You do, son. I can’t dispute that. I didn’t mean to insult you, either.” “I know.” His father turned to get in his car. “I’ll see you at the house tomorrow night, right?” “Tomorrow?”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge

“Michaels was built just like all the men in their family. Duty fit. Good height, just enough to tower over the average man. Broad, defined back and thick arms. Thighs that were muscular, but lean enough to chase and catch a suspect. Michaels”
― A.E. Via, Don't Judge