Palmer Ch. 10

Brooke burst into laughter again. "Well let me tell you, you're in for a treat, honey."

Kelli's dreamy brown eyes widened further. She looked like a little girl lost. "Treat?"

"Sure," the angelic looking brunette added, her eyes conveying her own arousal. "Fucking for money, Kelli. Fucking some of the most powerful people in the world, knowing that they're paying. For you! It's the ultimate aphrodisiac. You'll love it, believe me."

The warm feeling in Kelli's sex expanded to the rest of her body. "Really?" she asked, like someone casually being told the time was later than they thought.

"Really!" Brooke emphasised, deciding to take advantage of the situation. From their secluded bench in the shadows, she could hear people, see people. But despite their close proximity to the revellers, they were sufficiently far away from people's sight to be inconspicuous. Unless anyone made the unlikely decision to head in their direction, they'd be safe for some time.

"And Japanese men—they fuck like there's no tomorrow—"

Kelli let out a soft moan. Brooke knew only too well the feelings cascading through her friend's body and mind. The blonde's parted lips were perfect for kissing.

"And you so need to be fucked, honey, don't you?" she growled, jamming her tongue into that waiting mouth.

Her hand slid in through the side of Kelli's silky, red dress, cupping an unrestricted breast. "This is just an aperitif," she moaned into her mouth. "It's about time we shared a bed."

Her tongue circled inside Kelli's mouth, then flicked along the outside of her lips. Her teeth bit into the lower lip, pulling it down as her fingers found and twisted a thick nipple. "Want to cum?"

The blonde's hiss answered for her. Those long legs slid apart even before Brooke's hand slithered between them.

"Look at me," the curvy model ordered.

Kelli pulled back so that her lust-filled gaze could stare at the raven-haired model. For someone so sexy, Brooke's face was almost angelic. It was her large eyes and long, dark lashes that constantly hinted at an allure of sexual promise.

Her cupid bow lips may have seemed out of place on others. On her, they were perfect and the deep, pink lipstick she wore only complimented. Suckable, one boyfriend had christened them, in both a giving and receiving sense. He'd been right.

Holding Kelli's aroused stare, Brooke slid her fingers inside Kelli's lacy thong. "Open wide," her melodic voice sexily purred.

The blonde desperately flung her legs open, lewdly pleading for the touch she was coming to know so well.

Brooke watched every expression on the blonde's face as she stiffened two fingers and slid them home.

"Ngh…" Kelli's orgasm was instantaneous.

It didn't satisfy Brooke. Slipping her tongue out and flicking it across the blonde's contorted face, she allowed just enough time for the peak to ease before curling her fingers again. When she found the sweet spot, Kelli's body jerked like a firecracker. A jumping jack was set loose inside her body as the second orgasm exploded in torturous bursts.

Brooke covered Kelli's soft lips with her mouth, stifling the cries that would otherwise have seen them discovered. There'd be hell to pay if they were photographed, but she needed her own pleasure.

She held Kelli's trembling body close until the blonde calmed, stroking her hair like a comforting mother. "My turn, babe," she eventually whispered as the woman's orgasmic pants began to ease.

Kelli smiled. It was a lustful smile. But when her hand slithered under the black dress, the curvy model stopped her.

"No, babe," Brooke smiled into her eyes. "I want that mouth." She spread her body down onto the backless wooden bench, stretching a leg either side. "Come on, babe," she provocatively spat out. "Do me."

Her hands went to the hem of her dress, pulling it up to her thighs. Kelli gasped. No panties, only the seductive sight of brunette's cleanly shaven pussy, framed by her lacy thigh-highs.

Brooke eased her legs apart, as if balancing them in the thin air either side of the bench. "Go ahead, babe. It's all yours—"

The fire in Kelli's body roared higher. Flames of lust shot through her. For a few seconds, her eyes savoured the buttery-soft texture of Brooke's labia, broken only by the tasteful little scorpion piercing through her hood. So different to Erin's, but just as intoxicating. Then she closed in on the sweet smelling sex.

The Playboy-esque model shuddered with the first lap of the sweet tongue. "Oh, yessssss…."

Her hands reached forward to the golden locks. Kelli had worn her hair up for the evening, preferring a different appearance. Classy, Brooke had told her. But the purring model destroyed the effect in a single second, ripping out the pins so she could dig her fingers into the silken tresses.

Her body jerked again as Kelli's tongue drew figure eight circles over her clit. Her juices began to flow with each pass. Her legs bent as she wrapped them around the blonde's back. Erin was right. The girl might be inexperienced but she was a natural.

"Oh, God, that's good, babe," she gasped, tightening her fingers into tight fists. She pulled the head harder against her undulating sex. This woman was remarkable, even better than Savannah. No matter how rough Brooke was, she didn't flinch.

She responded to each push and pull by licking faster, increasing her pace. They'd have some real fun in bed later.

The diminutive model unlocked her feet and pushed her legs wide again as Kelli slipped a finger inside. She growled, abandoning herself to the waves of pleasure flowing through her. She felt the other woman's teeth pull at her piercing. Innocent her ass! She was being worked by an expert!

Her grip left the blonde tresses. Her hips pressed upwards. The blonde's tongue resumed its sensational figure eight pattern, first along her lips and then across her clit. A second finger slid inside.

"Yes, yes…"

The tongue slowed, then hurried. Softened, then hardened. "Yes, oh yes…"

When Kelli crossed the two fingers inside her sex and nibbled on her clit, she couldn't hold back. "Now, babeeeee! NOW…"

***

Palmer awoke to a face he didn't recognise. His body reacted, jerking upwards and grabbing the hand with the needle.

It was Roxanne who restrained him. "It's the doctor," she whispered.

Sandra Wilson's voice came from the other side of the bed. It held a hint of amusement. "Steady, tiger. He's one of us. No need to take him out."

"Dennison," the weary looking doctor introduced himself. "I fixed your hands as best I could. Your arm, too. Fortunately the bullet went straight through. It's a clean wound. You'll be fine once the fever eases. But you'll be off duty for a good few days."

Palmer's efforts to focus his eyes increased his headache. It was better when he squinted. "How long've I been asleep?" he mumbled.

"A couple of hours," Roxanne told him, wiping his brow with the wet towel in her hand. "You've been flat out."

"Not surprising," Dennison broke in. "Rest is what you need, young man. I suggest these two guardian angels make sure you get plenty."

"I'm okay," Palmer slurred, shifting on the bed. He would be if only the fuzz in front of his eyes would clear.

Dennison held up the needle he'd just used. "You will be shortly. I've filled you full of antibiotics." Closing his small bag, he turned to the two women. "Just keep him warm, so he doesn't go into shock. That's important. After a few days rest, he'll be fine."

***

The party had been beyond Kelli's wildest dreams. The atmosphere, the beautiful people, the drink, the acid, the continuous flow of congratulations! They all blew her mind away. She was floating in an alcohol and drug fuelled haze and adored every second.

"What time does this thing go on until?" she asked Brooke, unsteadily leaning against the grinning model. They'd both had a continuous grin for several hours.

The raven-haired young woman glanced at her watch. "It's only four in the morning, babe. Maybe we should look for another party?"

As the thought circled, a voice from their left interrupted. "Brooke, Kelleee…"

The beautiful woman worked her way across towards them, her expression right out of a fashion tear sheet. One meticulously plucked eyebrow was raised, the corners of her full lips turned up in mischief.

Kelli's heart jumped. This was Gabrielle Dubois. The Gabrielle Dubois.

The supermodel's short, light blue dress was spectacular. Whether it was the way the silky material swept low and backless, moulding itself to her backside, or the absurdly scandalous low cut at the front, she oozed sex. Yet she was so classy, too.

With her sassy, dark hair woven up in a complicated twist and those pale blue eyes sparkling with mystery, she reminded Kelli of Audrey Hepburn.

"Allô," her sonorous voice almost purred. The thick French accent sent a thrill through the captivated blonde. "I didn't have thee chance to catch you at the show and just had to congratulate you on your performance," the supermodel said. "Truly magnifique! "

"Thank… thank you," Kelli mumbled, suddenly tongue-tied. This was the Gabrielle Dubois – the model who'd obtained superstar status four years ago and was now arguably recognised as one of the most famous of them all.

"You are so welcome, cherie," the beautiful brunette smiled. "I predict great things for you. Per'aps we can work together very soon?"

Kelli beamed at her, captivated by the way the supermodel's French accent pronounced her name.

"I 'eard about you before the show," she continued, taking a feminine drag of her cigarette through the long, black filter. Based on the sweet fumes it was producing, Kelli was pretty sure it wasn't just tobacco she was smoking. "But you're even more beautiful than I 'eard. And, cherie, you have that certain je ne sais quoi that can take you to the top. The very top."

Kelli was taken aback. The compliments she'd received tonight faded into nothingness compared to the praise from this beautiful, vibrant goddess.

"Gabrielle, I don't know what to say," she eventually blurted. "I've followed your career for so long. You've given hope to hundreds of women like me."

The words were true. Gabrielle's astonishing success was a beacon of light for aspiring models. There were no shortcuts to her success either, no spreads in Maxim or Playboy. This woman was a classic star, the likes of which the fashion world hadn't seen for a long time.

"You may well do the same in time, cherie." The supermodel's sultry laugh was delicious. "And sooner rather than later, if today's show ees anything to go by."

She held up her glass, clinking it against Kelli's. "Au success!"

Turning to Brooke with an apologetic smile, the French model kissed her on both cheeks. "I'm sorry, cherie. I didn't mean to ignore you. Let's drink to three of the most beautiful women in the world."

Brooke laughed, sensuously running a hand along the supermodel's tanned arm. "That's okay, Gabrielle. I'm very happy in my own skin, but I know I'll never reach your level. Kelli may, though."

"Mais oui! With the right handling," the French star confirmed. "And Erin DeVere ees one of the best in the business."

"I know," Kelli agreed, her brown eyes wondering what those full, pouting lips would be like to kiss. "I owe her everything."

"Tell me, cherie," Gabrielle smiled, leaning closer. "Is that perfume what I think it ees?"

Kelli laughed, sniffing the tanned neck in front of her. "Yes, I see you're wearing it, too. When I saw you had your own perfume on the market, I just had to have it."

The French supermodel leant even closer, her pretence at smelling the perfume being betrayed by the soft lips on Kelli's shoulder. The hint of tongue that danced along her flesh sent a shudder through her.

"Nudity!" They said the perfume's name together and shared a laugh.

"Eets a perfect name, vous ne pensez pas? You and I are going to be great friends, Kelleee. I can tell."

Her head went back, as if she was thinking. Then she linked both women. "This party 'as been wonderful, but enough is enough. Otherwise it becomes… how you say… ennuyeux. Let's collect Erin and we can 'ave drinks at mine."

***

Palmer moaned. His body was on fire, and then it was dipped in ice.

"Ssssh." The voice came from his left. A soft hand was stroking his brow. Forcing his eyes open, he squinted through the pale, pink light of the bedside lamp. Roxanne sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

He tried to speak but another chill passed through him. His teeth began to chatter. "Dry," he eventually gasped, forcing the words out. His lips felt scorched, his throat like dust.

The redhead eased a hand under his head, gingerly helping him accept a drink from the glass of cold water. Some ran down his chin. It was difficult to swallow.

Fishing an ice cube from the jug of water on the white bedside cabinet, she dropped it into a handkerchief. "Just suck on it," she breathed into his ear, holding it against his lips.

"How long have you been here?" he managed to gasp.

She smiled as she touched his forehead. "Since we put you to bed."

"What… time… is it?"

Her eyes flicked to the luminous bedside clock. "Four in the morning."

For a good half a minute he lay there, thinking. The feel of her fingers running down to trace the small scar on his neck brought his gaze back to hers. When she eased her hand away, he took it between his bandaged fingers. It looked as if he wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't find their way out.

"Don't worry, you can tell me later," she smiled. She dropped the wet handkerchief onto the bowl on the bedside table. Her caring hands tucked in the blankets around him. "It's important for you to keep warm, Jack. You've got to outrun that fever."

Palmer nodded. His heavy eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep again.

***

Gabrielle's house was overwhelmingly spacious. Large enough to accommodate much more than the group of 'beautiful people' invited, together with the people already there. Goodness knows what time the party had started, but it was clear it was already in full swing.

Kelli swooned at the sound from the state-of-the-art stereo system. "I love Sinatra," she smiled at her host.

"Doesn't everyone?" the French supermodel grinned. "Looks like we've arrived just as the fun is starting. By the way, there's only one rule, cherie—what 'appens here, stays here."

The blonde model nodded dreamily. Glancing around, she could understand the requirement for such a rule. To her right, three models were taking turns doing lines of cocaine off the coffee table. With each sniff, one pair of hands wrapped themselves around another's neck, drawing them into a long, passionate kiss.

A gorgeous black girl joined them and took her turn with the coke. She grabbed a Latin photographer as he passed and pulled him down beside her. Kelli recognised him from earlier. His hands went to her tits at the same time as hers searched for his cock.

To the right, in the large open living area, different couples had paired off on the make-do dance floor. One girl had her legs wrapped around a tall, thin hunk's waist as they danced and kissed. Kelli thought she was Chinese but it was difficult to be sure through their snogging.

Beside them, three hot models were gyrating against one another to some imaginary beat. Their movements certainly didn't correspond to Sinatra's dulcet tones.

"Sexy, yes?" Gabrielle smiled, delighting in the naïve, shocked look that ran across the blonde's features. "This is just part of your new lifestyle, cherie. This is how supermodels party!"

Her host's pale blue eyes sparkled with mischievousness. The innocence in Kelli's sparkling brown eyes was definitely a turn on! Stopping one of the scantily clad waitresses with an outstretched hand, she purloined cocktails for the three women.

But her smiled wandered back to Kelli. Everything Erin had told her was true. "Want me to show you around?" she asked, her eyes hinting at a deeper meaning.

Kelli picked it up immediately. "That would be great," she enthused. If the French supermodel wanted some action, so did she. After her earlier session with Brooke, she was only just warming up.

"You go, darling," Erin drawled. "Brooke and I have already seen around Gabrielle's mansion. It's bigger than Buckingham Palace!"

The three experienced women laughed, clinking glasses with one another as if sharing a private joke.

"Yes," Brooke purred, already a little unsteady on her feet. "And there's Max over there. Haven't seen him all evening. I'm horny again. Need some cock."

Kelli felt the shiver hit her body. Erin had told her Max would be in Milan. A chance to feel that big, black cock inside you, darling, she'd continually pressed home. Maybe tonight, in their hotel suite?

"Other than The Don, he has the biggest and best around here, darling," Erin murmured, her eyes smiling in Kelli's direction.

"And The Don is by invitation only," the French supermodel laughed.

"Whereas Max is more liberal with his favours," Erin grinned. "I've a feeling he'll be a busy boy, tonight. Don't you?"

With a laugh at the lustful grimace crossing Kelli's features, the Agency Head turned away and began to steer Brooke in the general direction of the black model.

"See you later, darling," she called over her shoulder to Kelli. "Be good!"

As she turned to follow Gabrielle, Kelly bumped into the black female model who'd commandeered the Latin photographer. The twosome were holding hands and looked like they were heading upstairs.

"Hello, baby," the dark beauty mumbled. She sexily pulled Kelli in for a long kiss. For a moment, the blonde found herself sandwiched between the beauty and the photographer's hot, toned body. She made no objection when her beautiful assailant's tongue found hers and the man's hands cupped her tits from behind.

"You were wonderful on the catwalk," the dark model growled. "Come and join Armando and me later."

The photographer winked at her as he pulled his soon-to-be lover away. This was all simply surreal!

Gabrielle tugged her arm. "It gets better," she smiled, waving across at a young man staring in their direction. He gave a huge grin as he pushed himself off the bar, running a hand through his long, wavy, blonde hair.

"Recognise 'im?" the French model asked, taking a smooth draw from the drug-laced cigarette.

"No," Kelli admitted, her eyes taking in the confident stride as the young, blonde hunk headed towards them.

"You're not into racing driving, cherie?"

"Well, no…"

The French supermodel gave one of her sultry laughs. "Only twenty but already a star. Max may have a cock like a donkey, but this one fucks like a superstar. And he 'as such a perfect speciality—"

Kelli glanced at her. "Speciality?"

Gabrielle shone that sexy smile. "Mais oui," she said, stroking a single fingernail across Kelli's bare forearm. "I don't mind admitting I'm talking from personal experience."

"Howdy ma'am," the young driver said, cutting across their conversation. He spoke to the Frenchwoman but was staring at Kelli. Her tits, to be precise. "Good to see you again, Gabrielle, and thanks for the invitation."

The French beauty nodded, her beautifully manicured hand pushing back a strand of dark hair. "C'est mon plaisir, Brad," she growled in that throaty French accent. "It wouldn't be a proper party without the fastest man around. 'Ave you met Kelli yet?"

"No ma'am," he confessed, reaching out to actually shake Kelli's hand.