Palmer: Fashion Week Ch. 09

She worked in silence for a few minutes, like an artist on her masterpiece. When she was outlining the supermodel's lips with bright red, she casually began to talk again.

"A few of us are going back to one of the suites afterwards. You're welcome to come. It's always an interesting time. Gets a little wild, but in a good way. We open up the bar, Rich has some excellent blow, and we party until the sun comes up..."

Roxanne's gaze met Dawn's in the mirror. For the first time in the conversation, the make-up girl seemed a little nervous. Was she hitting on her?

She could remember those days—wild after-parties that devolved into drug-fuelled orgies. She'd be lying if she didn't admit to being a little excited by the idea, but those times were behind her now. She'd been there, done that, and now she had Jack.

Jack! She needed to get back to see him.

"I think I'll pass," she softly said, "but thanks for the offer."

Dawn's face was bright red with embarrassment at the rejection. People got so funny when it came to sex and celebrity.

"It's not that I don't think it would be fun," she hurriedly added, feeling the need to explain. "It's just that I need to talk to Jack after my conversation with Nikky. It's important."

"Of course!" Dawn knew she was being thrown a life-preserver, but took it gladly. "Here, in case you are bored..."

She quickly scribbled her number down on a scrap of paper and handed it to Roxanne.

*

Jack Palmer emerged out of the hotel and into the night air, trying to make sense of what had happened to him. Jade hadn't drugged him just to give him a blow job. There was more to this than met the eye.

But what?

Disorientated, he turned left towards what he thought was a taxi rank, only to quickly discover it was in the opposite direction. He'd walked into a cul-de-sac. Swiftly turning to return the way he'd come, he had to rest an arm against the wall to steady himself. His head was still woozy.

That was when he saw the first of the three men. Then the second. And finally the third. They had followed him into the small alleyway at the side of the hotel, almost as if they'd known he'd be there. How could they?

Each man was dressed in black, with a hooded mask over his face. When they moved in a menacing semicircle around him, trapping Palmer against the wall, he knew he was in trouble. Volkov had sent them? But why? The combination of Jade and now the three assailants didn't make any sense.

He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as they stepped closer. Breathing harder and deeper to clear his head, he crouched low, knees slightly bent, his arms loose and swinging slightly, ready for action. They weren't here for conversation, that was for sure.

"Give us money," one of them said, taking the lead.

He had a thick Arab accent and was slightly taller than the others, with a thick muscled and heavy set body. Raising his hand, he showed Palmer what looked like a long, thick, bamboo stick. He slapped it threateningly against his palm.

"Then we only break your legs," he added.

The three of them laughed raucously, clearly enjoying the moment. They weren't there for money. The only question was whether they intended to kill him, or teach him a lesson.

"And arms," the man to his left happily said. "We break your arms, too."

The three of them laughed again and that gave Palmer the chance to take the initiative. Three against one wasn't the best odds, especially when he was still feeling the effect of the drug that Jade had fed him. But he wasn't going down without a fight. And surprise was his only chance.

Moving quickly towards the guy on his left, he grabbed him around the neck, twisted, and then flung his slender body back into the wall. The impact took the wind out of the man and Palmer kicked him in the solar plexus before he could recover.

One down, two to go. But the element of surprise had gone.

The guy to his right was rapidly closing in and swung his balled fist at the ex-cop's ribs as he turned towards him. Palmer used his momentum to deflect the blow with his biceps, before slamming his elbow into his assailant's sternum. The man went down with a loud grunt, clawing at his chest.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Palmer rasped through gritted teeth as he turned back to third man.

When the guy raised the bamboo stick and swung at him, he neatly sidestepped the motion and grabbed the weapon as it wished past him, wrenching it from his attacker's hands. The man cursed, but wasn't done. He pulled a switchblade and waved it threateningly in the air.

Palmer avoided three stabbing attempts before being able to set himself in position and deliver a short sharp blow to the guy's wrist with the bamboo. The switchblade fell to the ground, bouncing on the stone.

He instantly twisted his body and hooked his left foot behind the man's ankle, lifting his leg up and knocking him off balance. The assailant fell to the ground with a heavy thump, turned over, and looked for the switchblade again. It was too far out of his reach. For a brief moment it looked as if he was about to try and attack again with his bare hands, but a wave of the bamboo stick in Palmer's hands changed his mind.

But just as he defensively scrambled back, the ex-cop heard a barely discernible noise behind him. One of the other two thugs had recovered sufficiently to try again. He whirled around and smacked the guy across the forehead with the bamboo stick as he approached. The man sunk to his knees before toppling onto the stone, groaning incoherently.

The two other assailants exchanged some frantic words that Palmer didn't understand. But the meaning was clear. Moving towards their friend, they took an arm each and helped him to his feet before hurrying out of the small alley without even a backward glance.

Palmer felt the desire to follow them running hot in his body, but knew he was in no shape for that. Besides, what good would it do?

He took a deep breath instead to regain a semblance of control. His head was spinning. He just had time to wonder where he had summoned the energy and strength to withstand the attack before he felt the bile rise in his throat. As he threw up against the dark wall, he had a feeling of déjà vu.

*

Where are you, Jack? Roxanne wondered. She'd called him several times once the day's shooting was finalised and he hadn't answered his phone. He wasn't still with Jade, was he? That thought was still eating at her even during the immediate after-show wind down.

One drink had turned into two, then three, and she had been cornered by one of the show's producers for the last half an hour. He couldn't keep his eyes off her legs, or her tits for that matter. He didn't seem to be able to take a hint and judging from the drinks he'd plied her with, he was persistent.

She would normally have politely made her excuses a while ago but she was still feeling like the new girl. She didn't want to upset anyone. But she needed to get away, find Jack. Her success in the show had her worked up—so insatiable that all she wanted to do was find her boyfriend and make love to him all night.

The text that arrived gave her the pretext to leave, even before she'd looked at it. At last. It must be from Jack. He must be free now. She gave him a soft smile as she pulled out her mobile phone and then wobbled a little on her t-strap heels as she made her way across the room. She was drunker than she'd thought.

The smile on her lips died when she saw that it was a message from Nikky Volkov. A picture message. Her heart froze when she pulled it up. Jade was lying beside Jack. They were both naked. The African supermodel had just taken the tip of his cock in her mouth.

What the fuck?

The picture had to be doctored? But it looked real enough.

She instantly rang Jack again—his mobile and their suite number—with the same effect as before. His failure to answer brought a sickly feeling to her stomach. No. It couldn't be. Could it? It didn't make any sense? What the fuck was happening?

She headed blankly towards the restrooms. To straighten make-up that didn't need straightening. To think more clearly. To clear away the tears forming in her eyes.

Like the rest of the building, they were all glam. Located in the basement, beneath the studios, the halls were constructed of frosted glass and she ran her fingers along the cool glass as she tried to compose herself. She'd broken out into a cold sweat. Her heart was racing. Something was badly wrong and she had to think.

Just as she was about to enter the restroom, she heard the unmistakable cry of a female moan. It wasn't coming from the bathrooms, but from behind the staff door at the end of the hall.

Roxanne paused, almost laughing hysterically at the irony. Here she was, feeling like a bitch in heat, but she couldn't go back to Jack. Not until she'd worked things out about him and Jade. Meanwhile, there was a passionate encounter only yards away.

Before she knew it, she was standing before the forbidden door, trying to peek inside. It was cracked and white light spilled out along the tiled floor. The female moans were louder. They sounded like Alicia's.

Surely not?

Her heart raced faster and she swept her red hair over one shoulder. If she were completely sober, she would have left it alone. If she hadn't seen that photo, she would have turned away. She would have freshened her make-up and headed back to her suite. To Jack. But she couldn't go there. Not yet. Then she heard the woman's voice again.

"Fuck fuckfuckfuck!"

It was Alicia!

Her fingers shook as she carefully pushed the door open and looked inside. The room was an unused kitchen, filled primarily with stainless steel and lighted with brightly burning fluorescent lights.

Front and centre, rutting loudly on the cool surface of the prep table, were the two lovers, facing away from her. The fit young man had his pants around his knees and hadn't even bothered removing his shirt. He was busy drilling Alicia from behind and the beautiful blonde supermodel moans were long and breathy as she rocked her head backwards, driving her slender hips against him.

Roxanne stood just inside the door and closed it softly behind her. If either of them turned their heads they would see her. Maybe even ask her to join in? It brought her previous life back to her. How many times had she enjoyed an impromptu fuck like this in those times?

The guy had his hands underneath Alicia as he fucked her, cradling her breasts in his hands. Whoever he was, he was giving it all he had.

The redhead felt herself grow wet at the sight and did the only thing open to her. With her back against the wall, she snaked a hand beneath her short dress and inside her thong. She was so horny that her fingers practically attacked her clit.

For a moment, the young man lost the pace and his erect cock slipped out. It stood infront of him for a brief second, wet with Alicia's juices like a ripe piece of fruit, before he took it in his hand and slotted himself home again. Alicia gurgled in satisfaction.

Roxie hated herself, but the sight made her even wetter than she already was. She fingered herself harder, seeking to catch up, but even in the heat of the moment she knew that while her fingers would temporarily satisfy her, she needed more.

She pulled her hand away as her mind throbbed. Tears welled in her eye. Her body was on fire and she needed to fuck. She wanted to join Alicia and her unknown lover and yet she couldn't give into any sort of temptation. Not with a guy. That wouldn't be right. But nor could she go back to her hotel suite. Not until she thought things through.

That left her with only one option. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the piece of paper containing Dawn's number.

*

Sleep had finally overtaken Jack Palmer. Hard. He had no idea how he'd managed to get back to his hotel, to his and Roxie's suite, but he had. He'd been trying to concentrate on what had happened to him after Jade had joined him at his table, but it had been impossible to think.

He knew it had been a set-up. He knew he'd been drugged. But even so, he'd fallen for Volkov's plans hook, line and sinker.

He wondered where Roxie was, how he was going to tell her. But when he closed his eyes, he saw darkness. His head sighed in relief. His brain was released from the spell of the drug and he could think things through in the morning when he woke.

*

Jade sighed in satisfaction as she licked around Nikky Volkov's spent cock. It was beautiful. She'd headed straight to meet the Russian after leaving her suite, removed her blouse as she'd walked across the room towards him, and then sunk between his spread thighs. His thick cock was between her talented lips ten seconds later.

It hadn't taken long for her to suck him to orgasm and she was still savouring the salty taste of his creamy cum in her mouth.

This was where she belonged. Sex had brought her everything she'd earned in her life, helped by her good looks and her fabulous black body, of course. Modelling was wonderful, too, and Nikky Volkov had provided the opportunity for her to experience the best of both worlds. That was partly why she loved him so much.

Dipping her head, she continued to lick around the Russian's cockhead until she was satisfied she had every last drop. Only then did she sit back, light a joint, and inhale the contagious aroma.

When she passed it to Volkov, the multi-millionaire lazily stroked her naked breasts with one hand as he took a long pull.

"Well?" he asked.

It was the first time either of them had spoken since she'd entered the room.

"Piece of cake," she laughed, taking the joint from him and consuming another drag. "You liked the photographs?"

"Exactly what I wanted."

Volkov nodded. He'd given the matter a lot of thought since his earlier conversation with Roxanne. Palmer's incapacity gave him another opportunity to get the ex-cop out of his hair. The bastard had already foiled him by saving Jenn Finney at the party, so why not take him out of the equation once and for all? The idea was very tempting but the problem was it would be too easy to link the Russian to Palmer's death. He couldn't afford that. Not right now.

On balance, he'd reluctantly decided to trap him with Jade, and then have him thrashed like the interfering dog he was. After the Sheikh's men had carried out their task, he'd be in hospital for a long time. That left the Russian with only Vladimir Kazakov to think about, although the Ukrainian assassin's threat would be removed soon enough.

"What did Roxie say?" Jade asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He smiled softly. The photographs the African model had provided would undoubtedly discredit Palmer in the redhead's eyes, and she'd eventually come back to Volkov and tell him she wanted to resume her modelling career. Any other outcome would be plain stupid.

"She was playing it cagily, but by now I suspect she'll be fuming," he murmured. "The cock-sucking photo will make sure of that. You have an undoubted talent, my dear."

"I do?" she playfully queried, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Handing him the joint, she dropped her head to lick her way down his hard stomach. When her lips began to nuzzle his testicles, she was delighted to see his cock begin to react. Blowing Palmer had been a pleasure, but this man meant everything to her.

"You're insatiable," Volkov moaned, as she rolled his heavy globes in her mouth. This woman's appetite remained voracious.

"You have no idea...." she smirked, looking up into his eyes as she took his growing hardness into her mouth again.

*

Jenn Finney caught her reflection in the closet mirror. The smile on her face had been there ever since she'd returned to the hotel room after her incredible afternoon with Michelle Park.

"What are you smirking at?" she said to herself. And then she grinned again.

Unwrapping the bath towel from her head, she patted the still wet strands of her dark hair and admired the reflection of her gravity defying DD-cup breasts. They were so sensitive after Michelle's lavish ministrations. That was a nice feeling.

Everything had worked out incredibly well. Shortly before their sexual marathon had come to an end, the Asian model had confessed that she might be able to get her hands on information that would send Nikky Volkov to jail for a very long time.

She'd promised to deliver it, as long as her name was kept out of it. Jenn had jumped at the offer, of course.

It would prove to Sandra Wilson and the rest of the Met that she wasn't just a pretty face. To Jack and Roxie, too, although she hadn't been able to talk to either of them yet. Their hotel suite number was ringing out and neither of them was answering their mobile phones.

Then, there had been the sex. Oh fuck. The sex. Who would have thought that making love with another woman could be so fulfilling? Michelle was hands down the best lover she'd ever had. And tomorrow, they'd be meeting up again...

A warm blush covered her naked body as images of their passionate lovemaking returned to her. Okay, her career could be compromised if Sandra Wilson ever found what had happened, but didn't they say that the end justified the means?

They'd rested between bouts of lovemaking, of course, taken on fluid, swam in the pool, but always returned to the main course. Michelle had been a caring and considerate lover at first, but as the afternoon wore on she'd unexpectedly turned into an uninhibited sexual animal.

Jenn was still blushing from some of the things they'd done...

She ran her fingers down between her thighs. Her pussy was sore from the pounding it had taken. When the beautiful Asian model had eventually introduced her to her strappy, the experience had been every bit as satisfying as she had enjoyed with any man. And the added benefit was that the black dildo hadn't gone soft!

Turning her back to the mirror, she gave a sultry smile as she looked her naked body up and down over her shoulder. Her golden skin was still a little pink from the shower, but was shimmering from the body butter lotion she'd lathered on. Standing up on her toes, she ran a hand along the firm tuck of her asscheeks. Then she blushed again.

To think that Michelle's tongue had been there...

*

Roxanne elongated her body, pointed her toes, arched her back and stretched towards the pillows with her slender arms.

"Uhhh God!" she panted.

Her words were somewhere between a whisper and a moan.

She'd stopped thinking about Jack, Jade and Volkov some time ago and allowed herself instead to float away on a tide of sensual bliss. It was a relief from the myriad of thoughts going through her head. And Dawn's tongue was very enthusiastic.

The pixie-faced young woman's eyes were smiling up into hers as the sexy girl ramped up the tempo. She hadn't taken off her black-framed glasses as she pleasured the redhead and that only added to the intensity of the moment. Felt naughtier, somehow.

She groaned out loud this time. Another mind-blowing orgasm was closing in and they both knew it.

The make-up artist had responded excitedly to Roxanne's phone call, arranging to meet her without delay. They'd taken a taxi back to Dawn's modest hotel room—to 'talk', Roxie had said—although the sexual tension had been simmering between them all the way there.

They'd kissed as soon as they'd entered the room, and Dawn had taken that as tacit permission to instantly take things further...

Roxie's body rose up higher off the bed as that sweet, beautiful tongue worked faster. Her long legs opened wider and ... and ... shit oh shit, she was there again! This girl's capacity and willingness to give such incredible orgasms was unbelievable.