Chapter 3 - and warnings for adult content. If sex offends, skip the second half of the chapter and go on to chapter 4. It's not my fault - Brook made me do it, honest!!

Starsky nodded to the doorman of the hotel, flipping the keys of the Bentley to the parking valet as he passed without a second look. The young man on duty caught them deftly and eyed the smooth black auto with approval. One of the better aspects of his job – getting to drive the beautiful cars that came his way. The doorman winked at the cop and Starsky winked back. Although he was the sharp suited dealer, he'd won over the uniformed man on the door with a few "in" jokes and the occasional packet of cigarettes. It paid to be cautious and who better to tell him of what was going on at street level than the man who stood the door for 8 hours per day. Tonight Starsky slipped him a packet of 20, patted the man on the shoulder and headed inside. He was tired, the rush of adrenaline from his first meeting with Madame Lilly leaving him feeling light headed and dizzy. But at least he'd managed to see Hutch and he and his partner had had some interaction, albeit brief and a little painful. The brunet rubbed his sore ribs and snorted. The look in Hutch's eyes when he realised Starsky had been hurt said it all! The care, the concern – they were all still there in bucketfuls and just seeing the compassion in those crystal blue eyes had been like balm to his overwrought imagination. The blond looked thinner, and tired, but he was at least still in one piece.

One of the perks of his undercover persona was that Billy Shapiro knew how to live. The real Billy was being held by the FBI somewhere in the wilds of Indiana at a special holding facility until Lilly's operation could be busted wide open and Starsky was enjoying his alter ego to the full. As the biggest drug dealer in New York, he enjoyed the finest of everything and now Starsky took the private blue carpeted elevator up to the penthouse suite of the Bay City Hilton, leaning relaxed against the wall with his arms crossed until the doors swished open into his personal heaven.

The suite consisted of a huge bedroom containing a king sized water bed swathed in crisp white linen and dark blue blankets. The bathroom was large enough to hold a ball in it, luxuriously appointed with marble and gold and there was even a small sitting room with three piece suite, desk and chair and the largest screen television that Starsky had ever seen. Kicking off his fancy shoes, he padded over to the bar and poured himself a shot of tequila, downing it in one before replenishing his glass and sitting down by the side of the telephone.

His long fingers danced over the buttons, calling the number he'd memorised by heart. He waited for the clicks and whirs on the line signifying that this, and every call he made, were to be taped before finally a familiar voice came on the line.

'How's it hangin' dude?' Carlos Jiminez had a fondness for Motown music and anything "black", including trying to emulate the speech. He was Puerto Rican and the mix didn't quite allow him to pull it off, but Starsky recognised "dude" as probably the closest thing Jiminez got to friendly, so he went with it.

'We met'.

'And you dealt?'

'Not yet. Gonna play her out a while first. She a tough cookie, she needs handlin' gently' the brunet said, rubbing at his feet to return the circulation. The only thing he hated about Billy Shapiro was that the dealer didn't wear sneakers. His feet ached viciously.

'What the hell? This aint no game dude! You were supposed to agree to her terms tonight. What the hell are ya playin' at?'

'I'm playin' my part, an' I know what I'm doin'. What up Carlos, don't ya trust me all of a sudden?'

'I trust you're a fuckin' idiot sometimes'.

Starsky gripped the phone tighter and his voice lowered taking on a deadly serious edge. 'My partner has been in there for four months asshole. I might look like I play fast an' loose, but not with Hutch's life. If this thing is gonna go down we need to start trusting each other some. I was in the same room as her tonight. I can read her an' she needs to be played ok?'

'We need this deal closing fast'

'And you'll get it. I left her with a flat refusal tonight. Now she's gonna be like any woman. What she can't have, she wants more than ever. I make contact again tomorrow an' I have her eatin' out the palm of my hand'

'You'd better'.

'Hey, would I lie? Just have the money ready for me tomorrow huh? Corner of Chandler and 5th. I'll do the rest'. Starsky put the phone down and drank down the rest of his tequila. Its had been a difficult first night, but now he'd seen Hutch again and he was pretty sure he had a handle on Lilly, he felt reasonably confident that he had things taped. Draining his glass, he got up, padded into the enormous bathroom for a shower and got into the huge bed. Within minutes, Starsky was sound asleep, a small smile playing on his lips.

oOo

The tall blond guard stood to attention next to his black friend in Lilly's room as the woman stalked imperiously towards them. The black man shrank back visibly as she approached but Hutch stood his ground, staring straight ahead as she looked up into his face.

After Starsky had left that night, she'd ordered him and Bo to follow the brunet, making sure they knew where he was holed up. Hutch knew damned well which hotel they'd be using, the set up had been planned to the nth degree months ago and so, with the big black man in the truck with him, he'd done everything in his power to look like he was tailing the Bentley while using his years of experience to actually lose him. It was harder than he thought, but Hutch thought he'd pulled it off pretty well and judging by the cursing Bo did on the way back to the restaurant he was terrified of what the diminutive woman would do.

Lilly looked at her two men, letting her stony gaze fall first on Bo and then on Hutch. She seemed to come to a decision and coldly, she looked the black man in the eye. 'If you fuck up on me again, you're gonna be eating your balls for breakfast' she told him, poking her pink painted nail into his biceps, The goon probably couldn't even feel the sensation through his muscles, but he shook visibly, knowing she wasn't just using a metaphor. More than one of the guards had been found dead in the Bay and he was hoping to live to see his next birthday.

'I'm sorry Miss Lilly' he muttered looking like a puppy dog who'd been kicked into the middle of next week.

'Get out' she dismissed him and without a backwards glance at Hutch, he turned and left the room. The blond stood his ground, his eyes remaining fixed on a painting hung on the far wall. Lilly walked around behind him, trailing her hand across his back and feeling his muscles bunch beneath her touch.

'Tell me how you managed to lose him at this late hour with hardly any traffic on the roads' she asked softly, her breath warm on his arm.

'Well, um….it was um. There was a game on and the um, the….c crowds were ah….' Hutch's explanation was cut short as long fingers insinuated themselves between the buttons of his denim shirt, pulling the poppers open one at a time. He stood stock still as Lilly continued to invade his shirt, pulling it free of the waistband of his tight jeans. 'We um….we…'

'Continue. I asked you a question' she said sultrily, her fingers now working at the button on his jeans. Hutch took a deep breath, trying to focus his mind on his cover story. This was definitely not the way he expected tonight to play out. He'd braced himself for maybe being worked over by one of the other goons. Lilly didn't tolerate fools gladly and he'd certainly not done what she'd ordered. But her fingers were working lower and with a sigh he decided to make the best of it.

Hutch's hand went automatically to the woman's arm, but she batted him away, impatiently. 'I asked a question. How come you lost him?' she asked, the fabric of his jeans now parted and beginning to work it's way down his legs. Hutch swallowed, his voice suddenly husky and uncertain, his stammer, which he usually kept under tight control now making it's reappearance.

'B ball game. The c crowd were um…..the g game was over and we ahhhhh' her hands had found the centre of his body and she grinned as she held his burgeoning erection in her hand. She gave his package a playful tug and Hutch's knees started to buckle. Using his cock as a lever, she pulled the blond towards the bed and with the family jewels still firmly held in her hand, he had no choice but to follow. Shuffling out of his jeans and leaving his shirt in a puddle on the ground, he following meekly as she perched on the edge of the bed. She looked up at him towering over her, taking in the hard, flat stomach, the golden tanned skin and the flaxen hair haloed in the backlighting from the single lamp behind him.

Slowly, she let go and peeled off her blouse and pants, never taking her eyes from his as she lay down on the bed. She patted the mattress next to her.

'Make yourself comfy'

Hutch looked uncertain, as though she'd knife him as soon as he got down. She saw the indecision in his eyes and smiled.

'It was the other dickhead I was mad at, not you. C'mon, I won't bite. I like a little blond once in a while' she looked at his body and grinned again. 'But there's a little blond and then there's you!'

Hutch had the decency to blush. It was a long standing joke in the showers at the Metro that he was nothing if not well hung, but to have the woman blatantly point it out seemed too much to contemplate. He had the urge to cover himself but he resisted, instead cocking his eyebrows at her.

'I don't get it'.

'What?'

'Why me? Why now?'

'I've been watching how you handle yourself. You're not like the others. There's something about you. You're not just brawn, I think there's brains there too. And I like what I see. More to the point, when I like what I see, I usually get it!'

Hutch looked at her petite figure, her haired gently mussed against the pillows on the bed. Who was he to argue with his boss? He sighed.

'I'm not that easy'.

'No? That says differently' she pointed to the centre of his body, his erection pointing straight out like a ramrod.

'So?'

'So come over here now and I can show you my appreciation'.

Hutch snorted. 'Whatever you say ma'am, but will you still respect me in the morning?' He climbed onto the bed, but as he started his exploration of her body she slid out from beneath him. Springing up she straddled his body and grasped his arms pinning them above his head. He could have got the better of her at any time, even though she was surprisingly strong, but Hutch lay and stared up into her beautiful lavender eyes. She smiled down at him, a tigress ready to ravish his body and bent to kiss along the line of his neck.

Lilly bit down onto Hutch's neck, above his jugular, kissing and sucking it like a vampire would search for food. Relinquishing her hold, she continued lower, licking and biting at the line of flesh down his neck and onto his chest leaving red passion bruises behind her. Hutch answered with kisses of his own, arching his back as she took a nipple between her teeth and worried it gently.

Letting go his arms, she sank lower, rimming his navel with her tongue before dipping lower to lick along his length.

Hutch moaned, balling his fists into the sheets on her bed. This was so not what he'd expected and his body, which had gone without any sort of female company for four months was now on sensory overload. As she took him into her mouth his hips thrust upwards answering her and seeking more access.

Deftly, she rose and repositioned herself, looking straight into his eyes as she sensually lowered herself on to his waiting cock. Hutch's self control fizzled out and with a rough shout, he abandoned himself to the sensation of being sheathed inside her. Above him, she rode him like a horse, rocking her hips in time to his rhythm and milking him for her own pleasure. Twice she slowed to a near stop, allowing him a brief respite to prolong their sex before setting up an even more frantic rhythm again until he couldn't contain himself any more. He'd never had a woman so powerful and who could take him so fully. In the past he'd always been scared of hurting his women and had held back for fear of damaging them. But with Lilly, there was no such fear. She accommodated the whole of him and he found a wonderful freedom in allowing himself to let go. With a final thrust he cried out in his petite mort and sagged back, utterly spent against the pillow as she collapsed on top of him, her own body satiated.

For long minutes they both lay still, gathering themselves and basking in the post coital glow. Eventually Hutch raised his head and looked down at the woman still balanced on his smooth chest. She looked back at him but with eyes as cold as the Arctic.

'Nice fuck Gibbons. Now, get dressed and get out of my site. And tomorrow, find Shapiro and bring him back to me. We have a deal to cut'.