Title: Best Bets

Author: Grey

Fandom: Spenser for Hire

Rating: NC-17+

Pairing: Spenser/Hawk

Email: Grey853@aol.com

Disclaimer: These guys aren't mine, damn it.

Summary: Spenser investigates a case of white slavery and renews his relationship with Hawk.

Archive: Yes, as long as my name and the explicit warnings stay on it.

Author's notes and warnings: Extremely explicit sex including rimming. No one seems to be writing much about these sexy guys, so I'm hoping this starts a whole new trend.



BEST BETS
By Grey

Spenser eased himself out of the chair to answer the door. From the strength of the knock, it had to be Hawk. The dark glasses covered his eyes, but his smile faded. "Man, you look like somebody's whipped dog before they shot it."

"Did a number on my face, too."

"I see that. Damn, babe. Tell me you got in a few good punches."

"I'd be lying if I said that." Shrugging hurt, so he just closed the door behind his friend before limping to the counter to pour more coffee.

Hawk watched, his body straight, shoulders back as he evaluated the damage, the black eye, the swollen cheek, and the right arm held in close over the ribs for comfort. After reaching for the offered cup, he finally spoke softly, his voice even more serious. "You okay, babe?"

"Considering Anderson would've preferred me dead, yeah, I'm doing fine." The muscle spasm across his lower back screamed denial, but he ignored it.

"Anderson? Benton Anderson of the import/export Andersons?"

"That'd be the one, yeah."

"Damn, you are a lucky white man."

"My kidneys don't agree at the moment."

Nodding, his stance more relaxed, he added, "You going to tell me what transpired between you and this badass Anderson or you going to drag it out
between random twitching?"

His mouth set against the pain of movement, Spenser avoided the knowing eyes, the eyes that knew the expense of losing face in their profession, the eyes that understood the hurt of both bruised ego and flesh. Choosing his words carefully, his voice tightened against the occasional ambush of unexpected deep muscular protests. "Seems he didn't like me checking into the rumor he's been sending underage hookers out of the country."

"Slave market?" The jaw clenched around the words, raw scraping words edged like razors.

"Prime market for little girls all over the world, Hawk. Nothing new there."

"And you know this Anderson's involved?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. Susan has a client who has a runaway sister who was working, but she's disappeared completely. So far, Anderson's at the center of every dirty road I've followed."

"Uh huh. And where did you go last night?"

"Shirley's place. I was talking to some of the younger girls, see if they'd heard anything."

"They willing to talk?"

"One girl gave me a name with some promise, but Anderson and two of his guys got me coming out."

"This happen last night then?"

"This morning, around one."

"You are a man to press your luck, babe. That part of town with no back up, you could've gone into the water too easy. Made the man's whole problem go away."

"So, the question is why am I still walking around?"

"Dragging your ass more like."

Not in the mood to even bother with a comeback, Spenser rubbed his head several times, even his battered hands hurting. "I think he might have killed me if it weren't for you."

"Wasn't there, babe. Never worked for the man. Anderson's a serious player, but he's got a bad reputation for changing the rules on the contracts."

"Well, apparently he knows you. Mentioned you by name in fact. Made it clear that if I kept poking around, even having you at my back wouldn't save me." Smiling wide for the first time since coming in the door, he braced himself forward on the counter.

"Man put my name in his mouth, man better know all the rules. He thinks we're partners."

"But we're not partners."

"Depends on the definition, babe. Besides, he thinks we are. He's got to know I'm going to be making an appearance somewhere along the line."

He smiled, his lips aching from the effort. "You going to defend my honor?"

"Don't need defending. No, I'm going to make the man understand you don't sell children and you don't mess with Hawk or his people." Stepping just a bit closer, he added, "Tell me more about the case, Spen-ser."

Loving the way he said his name, the verbal touch an intimate signal, he moved slowly to the sofa. His injured tissue protesting, wrestling with the bone, he groaned as he sagged down. "I'm tired, Hawk. I'll tell you about it later."

Standing very still, the larger man took off his glasses, his dark eyes bright and focused. His lips curled up as he spoke. "So where's the lovely Susan?"

"In Chicago. Some kind of conference until the weekend."

Nodding, Hawk stepped over and sat down, his voice suddenly more husky. The large hand caressed the bruised cheek, the heat delicious, his long fingers tracing the jawline. "Been awhile, babe. You sure?"

Reaching up to take the hand, he kissed the palm and whispered. "I've missed you, Hawk. You understand I love Susan."

"Be a fool not to."

"But I love you, too."

"Be a fool not to."

"At least I'm not a fool then."

Leaning forward, his lips barely touched, his tongue licking just once before he pulled back to growl the words softly. "You're many things, Spen-ser, but never a fool." His breath smelled of coffee, the scent laced over the familiar musk of pure Hawk. "How you want to do this? Like I said, it's been awhile, and you aren't exactly going to be able to take the full press I'm used to giving."

"It hasn't been that long and I won't break."

"Never have, but don't want to add anymore bruises to that pretty pale skin."

"Don't worry about it." The stubborn voice caught, stumbling and tired. "You know what I need, Hawk. Always have."

Grabbing the back of the larger man's neck, he drew him closer, full lips parted. Pushing inward, he drank in the slick heat and found his tongue soon overpowered, his own mouth invaded.

Hawk swallowed his moans as he forced his head back.

Pain forgotten, his cock thickened, a solid need anxious to be touched. Legs parted his thighs, a hand rubbing hard against his zipper, his erection throbbing.

A hoarse voice commanded in his ear. "We better take this to the other room, babe. I want to do this right."

"I won't argue."

"First time for everything." Smiling wide, he stood up, pulling Spenser with him. His whole back complained, but his cock begged harder.

At the bedside, Hawk got busy, carefully stripping off Spenser's clothes, sweatshirt, shoes, and then unzipping. Kissing the side of his neck, he slid both hands to the hips and pushed down jeans and briefs at the same time, the cock springing free and eager.

"I see you're ready, babe." The deep rumble of laughter, so rare, matched his own.

"I stay ready all day some days."

"Uh huh. Tough guys' anthem." Lifting his chin, warm lips lightly brushed his, the voice near purring. "Missed you, Spen-ser. Lie down and let me show you."

Strong arms eased him back, his legs spread, Hawk still standing between them. Slowly, in full view, he took off each item slowly, his dark brown eyes never wavering. Every movement graceful, he placed the clothes on the side chair with the others. Standing there naked, his cock jutting, he reached over into his pocket and retrieved his black leather gloves.

Carefully he pulled them on and then opened the drawer by the bed. The tube uncapped, the gel glistened on the ebony surface as he coated his right hand.

Breath catching, Spenser whispered, his voice hushed. "New pair?"

"New enough." Smiling wider, he kneeled as Spenser scooted back further to lift both legs, his feet digging into the edge of the bed. Hawk ran his left hand along the inner thighs, over the balls and then wrapped the cock with fine stroking. "Relax for me, man."

"You're kidding. Just do it."

"Begging's not manly."

"Fuck manly."

"Plan to, babe."

An index finger teased up and down the crease, and finally pushed forward, invading, easing in and out, increasing pressure with another finger, and then another.

Spenser rocked to the tension, his ass stuffed with soft leather over strong, wide fingers, his cock wrapped, controlled by another man's fist. Balls pulling up, his whole back aching, he groaned even deeper as Hawk suddenly stopped moving. "Not yet, babe."

"God, you bastard." Pitiful and breathy, he moved to recapture the intensity.

"Relax and don't be greedy. Roll over."

"I'm not a dog."

"Don't act like a bitch then. Roll over."

"Fuck you."

Smiling, his mood aroused and more dangerous, his voice lowered, smooth and deliberate. "No, I'm going to fuck you, babe, just like you like it. Now roll over."

Losing patience, Hawk stood, removed and tossed the gloves, and then helped Spenser shift positions.

Face down, his whole body tingled, craving more touches and screaming for relief. "Then do it. Jesus."

"No need to pray, Spenser."

Crawling on the bed between his legs, Hawk ran his hands along his backside, kneading and spreading. Heated kisses accented by bristling beard rubbed his asscheeks and then palms lightly massaged his bruises. Carefully, more gently than usual, he lay forward, his tongue licking Spenser's ear. A hissed promise touched him. "Motherfucker will pay, babe."

Teeth nibbled his neck followed by quick licks and easy sucking. Hawk's slick cock rocked against him, not inside him, but sliding up and down, taunting.

Moaning into his pillow, his body trembling, he pleaded, "God, Hawk, please."

"Spen-ser." The whisper of his name, the haunting flow of it like a love song, clenched his gut even more. Sweat soaked his scalp, his thighs slick with his own heat coupled with Hawk's. A hand moved between them and his ass shifted upward while his legs spread as far apart as possible. The tip of the thick cock slid in, the blunt tip huge and determined, refusing to slow.

Breathing stopped as hips shoved harder, deeper, filling him completely, the burn like fine memory. "Tight fit, man."

"Been awhile."

"Too long, babe." And with no other words, he started a steady pumping, each shove pounding. His whole body pushed, over and over, every bone challenged to hold rebellious muscles under the skin. Throat constricted, lungs starved, his brain swelled with wanting. Eyeballs throbbed behind closed lids, the explosion of red to yellow sudden, the cracking of skull in a distance. Spine bowed, the building of release rocked him with coming, his whole body jerking, uncontrolled as Hawk rammed in quickly and stayed there, riding out the spasms. His whole body clamped down at once, his heart stopped and then pounding returned, echoed up though his belly.

After several moments, Hawk withdrew carefully, his body shifting to his side. The scorched ring hurt with the delicious pain he needed as he turned and scooted backward into waiting arms. The nuzzle at his neck and the hushed groan pleased him. "Bruises feel better, babe?"

"What bruises?"

"Answers that question."

"What question's that?"

"Want to do it again?"

"Give me a minute."

"Damn. Forgot the Rolex."

"Then start counting."

**************

A week later, the night cold and treacherous outside the window of one of Anderson's warehouses, Spenser squatted, his line of sight clear. A gloved hand snaked up under his jacket, bringing his attention around behind him.

"Stop, Hawk. We're on stake out."

"Been waiting too long, man. He's not coming."

"It's early."

"Late."

"Stop complaining."

The hand inched to pull his shirt from his jeans, to work itself down to treasure.

"I said stop that."

Shrugging, Hawk pulled away, his back braced against the cold concrete. "Admit it, Spenser. Your tip played you, man. Anderson's not going to show tonight and we're freezing for nothing."

"You can go if you want."

"Don't want to go. Don't want to freeze either." His head turned, his eyes smoky in the low light. "Been sitting here all night, your ass in my face. Makes me hungry."

Smiling, Spenser shook his head as he continued to spy on the vans parked on the docks. "You sound a little too hot to freeze, my friend. Settle down. It's not professional to make out on the job."

"Uh huh." His head back, he stroked his chin, the beard a shadow against the black leather. "Remember our surveillance on Logan?"

Images flashed, the intense pleasure of stolen kisses, Hawk's hot mouth sucking his cock, his gloved fingers inside him. His whole body shuddered, his thighs sweaty. "I see you remember, babe."

"Don't start, Hawk."

"Why not?"

"We need to stay focused. Getting distracted can get a man killed."

"Or get him off, if it's done right." A throaty laugh followed the scrape of Hawk's jacket against the rough wall as he stood. Lips kissed the back of his neck, the tongue busy and heated. "Pay attention to this, Spen-ser."

Shaking his head, pushing the larger man back some, he resisted. "Look, it's early. Anderson could still show up."

"Bet he doesn't."

"You willing to risk our lives on that? Just because you're horny, doesn't mean I can forget about being a professional."

Nodding, his dark eyes sparkling as he deliberated the question, the words came out playful. "All right, Mr. Professional De-tec-tive. Let's make a bet."

Suddenly wary, Spenser watched his friend lean against the wall, his arms wrapped around his chest. "What kind of bet?"

"How good are you at staying focused?"

"What kind of question is that? I'm as good as you are. Hell, tonight, I'm even better."

"Think so, babe?"

Turning back to the window, he kept his eyes trained on the point of observation, ignoring the growing strain between his legs. "I know so. Look, if you're bored, go home. I can handle this on my own from here."

"Nope. Want to play distract the detective. Want to see just how good you are, Spen-ser."

The stretch of his name, the soft lilting of it, made his cock jump to attention. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Thought I'd make a friendly wager. Give me fifteen minutes and if you can keep your mind on your business, I'll stop complaining."

"No more bitching and moaning about being bored or horny?"

"Don't plan to be bored or horny. Plan to be distracting."

"Best laid plans, Hawk."

"Laid's the operative word, babe."

Tempted, but still reluctant, he countered. "This bet seems a bit one-sided. What do I get if I win, if I can keep my eyes open and focused on surveillance?"

Smiling, the mischief in the face masked only by serious control, Hawk whispered. "You can have me any time, night or day, work or play, you name it."

"You're willing to risk losing?"

"Bet your ass, babe. You up to the challenge?"

"This a dare?"

"Just like playing chicken."

Licking his lips, his mind racing, Spenser nodded. "Fifteen minutes. One limit though?"

"What's that?"

"You can't touch my cock."

His face suddenly wicked, Hawk stepped closer. "Don't need to touch your manhood. Going in the back way, babe."

The leer as he swung around behind him tightened his gut, his whole body tense. An arm circled his neck, the watch on his partner's wrist close enough to be loud. "Rolex is ticking. Eyes straight ahead. Let me know when you give up."

"You want me to say uncle?"

"You do and I'll fuck you into the wall. Be cool, man."

The growl and nibble on his ear claimed his breathing. At his back, the larger man lifted his shirt, then gloved hands inched around to his zipper.

In moments, denim and briefs dropped, the icy air shocking. Kneeling behind him, Hawk parted the cheeks, his tongue electric.

Eyes squeezed shut, Spenser struggled, controlling his groans painful. "Shit."

"Better not, man."

Thumbs pulled the opening wider, the loud, slippery licks quick and then harder, more rhythmic. Beard burned tender skin, rubbing it, a harsh contrast between stubble and slick kisses. Tiny bites to each side, down the inner thighs and up again, then more nips and sucking drew whimpers as his legs nearly buckled. Fingers shared with tongue, probing and stroking, each entrance a dance of boiling honey through his belly.

Quivering, his whole body alerted to sheer pleasure, every tissue begged for sharing, his brain suctioned and buried in distant quicksand.

One final shove forward, fingers holding him open while Hawk's tongue sliced into him, delivered him up to thunder. Bent forward, eyes squeezed shut against lightning, his bones quaked with jerking muscles, the spasms sending him into the concrete. Slammed head first, dazed with impact, he slid down, strong arms holding him away from further injury.

"Damn, man. You're bleeding."

"You cheated." The words garbled, his lungs and tongue traitors. He swallowed several times, his body still shivering from climax as Hawk held him and cleaned his bloody forehead. After a few minutes, he pushed away, his movements awkward, his vision fuzzy.

"You okay?"

"Fine." Using the offered cloth, he cleaned himself and then stood to pull up his pants. As soon as he zipped up, he sat back down, his head pounding. "I didn't expect that."

"Best strategy. Do something special."

"You certainly did." Nodding, he held his temple, the pain easier. "You've never done that before."

"Thought you might like it."

"I'm not complaining."

"Thought not."

"Lost the bet though."

"Sure did."

A hand touched his shoulder. "You really okay?"

"I'll be fine in a minute. I mean, I have to be."

"Why's that?"

"Be hard to explain to the doctor I cracked my own head open while you rimmed me."

"Be worth it to see the man's face though."

************

Benton Anderson sat alone in his office, relaxed and reading through papers. A gun barrel touched his neck. "Turn around slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them."

"Hawk?"

"Who told ya?"

Frightened blue eyes met his, the face panicked. "I didn't kill him."

"You'd be dead already if you had. It's not about all that. It's about hurting him and selling children."

The older man shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You saying you're not involved in this?" He threw a folder on the desk, the pictures spilling out. "Each one of those faces belongs to children sold to fuckers like you. Going to have to pay for that, man. No way around it."

"But I'm not involved in that."

"Men who work for you, take orders from you, get their checks from you, they're all independent now?"

His wrinkled face suddenly twisted, the voice harsh and grating. "They're just whores, Hawk. They're young, but still whores, so what's the difference? Besides, we both know what this is really about. It's about Spenser, the white man who owns you."

As Anderson tried to shift back in his chair, Hawk stepped very close, his face a mere inches away. Each word clipped the air. "You got a god to pray to, man, you better do it."

"You can't kill me." Sheer terror rounded the eyes, the whites showing.

"Bet me." Hawk stood up straight, his aim point blank. The silenced gun popped no louder than hard candy after dinner, the bullet through the temple a direct hit. Placing the unregistered gun beside the body, he spoke to the silence. "Never touch what's mine, man. Never."




The End