Palmer: Fashion Week Ch. 02

Chapter 2 — MONDAY — Unexpected Developments

It was surreal. Jack Palmer was sitting in the hotel's sumptuous breakfast room, listening to Roxie and Jade chat casually about the Fashion Show. It was as if last night's full-blown threesome had never taken place. Did every woman treat sex as offhandedly as these two? He couldn't get his head around it.

The women had ordered yogurt and fruit and he suddenly felt like a glutton with his pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Roxie was snuggling against him in the booth and although he could occasionally feel her warm green eyes staring lovingly at him, for once he avoided her gaze. They had some serious talking to do.

He couldn't deny the arousal he'd felt throughout their mind-blowing sex last night. It was easy to understand how people were seduced into that sort of lifestyle. But why did Roxie think it was right for them? She'd promised she had put the wilder side of her past behind her, so why had she gone along with Jade's suggestion? They didn't need anyone else in their relationship—and that meant he needed an explanation from his best friend and lover.

But he wasn't going to knee jerk. He knew he was on edge as a result of Roxie's return to modelling and he still hadn't come to terms with that decision.

He'd never deny her what she wanted, but who could blame him for being extra careful after the way the DeVere case had exploded in their faces? It had cost him his career in the London Met, and he had yet to be convinced that Nikolay Volkov was anything other than the same sort of low-life who preyed on others. If his instinct was correct, then his girlfriend's new contract with Volkov Modelling could be in danger of exposing her and them to that world again.

He glanced at Jade while the two women chatted happily. Despite his concerns, the stirring in his loins was instant. The African model was braless under the yellow tank top and her thick nipples were making firm indentations against the material. What man in his right mind could resist such a vision?

He hadn't been able to.

He'd fucked her last night, and she'd fucked him. He'd never experienced anything quite like that. His lovemaking with Roxie could be just as wild, but there was always an undercurrent of the love between them. With Jade, it was sheer carnal sexuality. The act was everything.

Sometimes Roxie had joined in during their coupling and at others she was content to watch, smiling encouragingly whenever he glanced at her. She'd even masturbated infront of them as Jade had gyrated on him, driving his sexual need ever higher. Then they'd reversed their positions, and he was making love to Roxie, as well as Jade. Despite his years in the Vice Division, the two women had used their combined bodies in ways he'd only dreamed about.

And when he'd needed to rest, the two women had eagerly taken over. Their fabulous bodies had been sheathed in perspiration as they'd pleasured one another, sexual equals as they'd succumbed to orgasm after orgasm...

He shifted on his chair. Goddamit, he was rock hard again.

"What do you think?" he heard Roxie's voice say.

He glanced up to find both women looking at him. Damn, he'd been so engrossed in his thoughts of last night that he hadn't realised she'd been talking to him.

"Sorry ... what?"

The two women laughed together.

"You were miles away," Roxie said.

"I know where," Jade chuckled, resting her chin on her palm as she gazed at him across the table. "Which of us were you mind-fucking, Jack? Me, I hope."

She laughed out loud as the blush hit his cheeks, although this time Roxie didn't join in. The redhead brushed away an errant strand of hair from over her left eye as she sent him a bashful look. She understood the conflict inside him.

"Now I know why you stayed in retirement so long," Jade purred, turning to Roxanne. "If I had a man with stamina like Jack, I wouldn't come out of my bedroom for six months, either!"

Jack felt his girlfriend tense, but Jade wasn't letting up.

"Six months is a long time, Roxie. What made you drop out of the limelight?"

It wasn't an easy subject to talk about. A good friend of Roxanne's had been brutally murdered in her apartment by a killer who was looking for her. It had been a case of mistaken identity. He'd been hired by Dominic DeVere—Roxanne's employer and former lover—a man Roxie had thought she could trust. Palmer had rescued her from the subsequent carnage, but nearly lost his own life when the whole sorry affair had ended in a violent shootout with the assassin.

"It's just hard ... dealing with it. Even now," Roxanne eventually said, her voice faltering. "Savannah was a good friend of mine."

"Ah, yes, Savannah," Jade sympathetically nodded. "Such a tragedy, she was so young."

"Just nineteen..."

Roxie had explained to Palmer that she'd seen so much of herself in the young model and had taken Savannah under her wing when they'd worked together. It was still difficult to believe that such a terrible thing could have happened to someone so beautiful, so sweet...

"Did they ever catch the burglar?" Jade asked.

The tears instantly began to form in the corners of Roxanne's green eyes.

"No," she meekly said.

Because of the political ramifications, the murder had been spun as a burglary gone wrong. It was necessary, they'd told her, but the guilt was still a heavy burden. That feeling would never go away.

"Anyway," she continued, wiping away a tear with her fingertip. "After that, I just needed to take some time off and think about my life. It puts things in perspective, you know? I had it all, or so I thought. The career. The money. The trendy lifestyle. I thought I was unstoppable. Then I came home and ... and..."

Palmer gave her a comforting hug. Despite his reservations over their long night of sex, moments like this reminded him of how he'd fallen in love with this beautiful redhead. Six months had passed since the case had exploded in their faces but he knew it would take much longer than that for her to be able to cope with the series of events. Especially as she still blamed herself for Savannah's death...

"It turns out I'm just as human as the next girl," she said, sucking in her breath. "But luckily I met Jack. He's the best thing that ever happened to me."

Palmer felt his stomach wrench at the words. Roxanne was the best thing to happen to him, too. He just didn't want anything to spoil that. Instinct told him that last night's lovemaking, Roxie's new modelling contract and Nikolay Volkov himself were all barriers to their future happiness.

"Jack saved me," Roxanne added, giving a nervous laugh.

She pulled him into a soft kiss, and then snuggled her body against his again. Her boyfriend hated the hero worship talk, but she would be dead now if it wasn't for him.

"I was assigned to her case," Palmer simply said, stepping around the details.

"Her case? Like, you're a social worker?"

The quip broke the tension that was settling over the table, and even Roxie managed a smile.

"That's a good one, Jack," she smiled. "You're my social worker, yes?"

Palmer chuckled with her, and then planted a kiss on her forehead. The look of love in those sparkling green eyes always melted his heart.

"I was on the London Met's Vice squad," he simply said.

Jade's expression didn't change. That was unusual. Palmer invariably saw some kind of reaction when he disclosed his former profession. That suggested the African woman already knew. Roxie had told her? He made a mental note to check that with his girlfriend later.

"Was?" Jade asked.

"Mostly, I work for myself nowadays," he said, leaving it at that.

He'd successfully created a new career as a private investigator in recent months. It had gone well, and he had even done a few jobs as favours for Sandra Wilson, the new Head of Vice. She'd been an integral part of the DeVere investigation and they still remained good friends.

"A man of mystery," Jade simply said, her smiling eyes staying on his. "I like that, but I'm afraid it's time for me to go."

Her breasts swayed provocatively inside her yellow top as she pushed to her feet. The same breasts that had bounced so sexily on her frame as she'd gyrated on his body last night. His cock instantly began to grow again and he made a silent promise to himself that nothing like that was going to happen again.

"I have to run a few errands," she breathed, leaning across Roxie towards Palmer. "And I'm sure you two lovebirds have things to do."

He tried to turn his head so that her departing kiss would find his cheek, but a quick tilt of her head ensured that their lips briefly met again.

"'Til next time, Jack Palmer," she sexily murmured, with a flirtatious smile that seemed to promise everything.

*

Roxie's weren't the only set of eyes glued to Jade's tight ass as she swayed across the room. The stunning African model was working it in the way that only she could—a hint of casualness, a tinge of savoir faire and a heavy dollop of sexuality. Every man's gaze, and quite a few women, too, was glued to that curvy body as she made her way out of the restaurant.

When she glanced back at Jack, her smile quickly faded. It wasn't the frustrated expression on his face that made her breath catch, it was the looked of disappointment etched on his chiseled features.

She understood instantly.

She'd understood the moment she'd pulled him to one side before they'd entered Jade's suite. He hadn't answered when she'd asked if he was okay with it, but she'd known from the way he'd looked at her.

Why hadn't she put a stop to things there and then? She'd been having her own reservations, after all. Her past might have been littered with her sexual exploits working for Dominic DeVere, but she'd promised to leave those days behind her after she'd met Jack. When Jack had hesitated, why hadn't she told Jade she couldn't go through with it?

The answer was obvious to her, even if she didn't want to admit it. The thought of another encounter with her African friend had given her a huge adrenalin rush. And involving Jack had made it legitimate, this time.

It was the second mistake she'd made yesterday. Even now, after her non-stop night of making love with Jack and Jade, she could still feel Nikolay Volkov's thick cock in her mouth. The salty aftertaste of the fashion guru's cum still lingered. If she could turn the clock back and start again, she would change everything about the day. What was it about returning to the modelling circuit that impaired her judgment like this?

"I'm sorry," she meekly told Jack, reaching out to clasp his hand.

"Why, Roxie?" he simply asked.

The way his usual warmth had left his voice made her cringe. It happened rarely, but she hated it when he was disappointed with her. A dozen excuses jumped into her mind but they were just that. That left only the truth...

"It was a stupid idea," she eventually confessed, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to reward you for everything you've done for me. That's all."

"Like that?"

This time she defensively crossed her arms over her breasts.

"I know ... I know..."

They complimented one another in so many ways, but she would always have a more liberal attitude to sex than Jack. His outlook had been conditioned by his experiences in the London Met. He'd seen the way sex had been used as a weapon to corrupt others—by men like Dominic DeVere.

She, on the other hand, had grown up using sex as a tool to advance herself. Okay, she wasn't proud of her past, but she wasn't ashamed of it, either. Working for Dominic, and had brought her a lifestyle beyond her wildest dreams, until it had all turned sour. Thank God that Jack had been there to save her when DeVere had betrayed her and then tried to have her killed...

Was that the sort of man Nikolay Volkov was?

Everyone in the business knew the Russian was a master of bending others to his need. She'd just chosen to ignore that part of him in her desire to resume her modelling activities. Lightning couldn't strike twice, could it?

She stared unhappily towards Jack again. She didn't want this conversation, and certainly not in the full glare of the restaurant. But she wasn't going to run away from it either.

"It was stupid," she repeated, trying to find the words to defuse the tension building up between them. "I'd been talking to Jade about how wonderful you were, and how understanding you've been about me resuming my modelling career. When I said I wanted to find a way to thank you, she suggested—"

Her words tailed off as he snorted. She normally loved staring into those dreamy eyes of his, but right now they were staring at her in disbelief.

Please don't look at me like that, Jack, she thought, not like you're disgusted with me.

Shuffling along in the breakfast booth, she snuggled into his body and rested her head back against his chest. That way she could continue without having to look him in the face.

"She thought—well, we both thought—that this would be a special way to reward you. I realise now that it doesn't make sense, but Jade seemed so certain that it would work that I went along with it..."

She tailed off again as she felt his body tense against hers. But instead of getting angry with her, he tenderly took her hand in his.

"Jade doesn't know me, know us," he softly said. "I'm not going to deny that last night was an unforgettable experience, but I don't want sex with other women, Roxie. You've always been all I've needed."

"I know," she quietly said, trying to repair the damage.

She swung around so that she could face him, touching his face with her fingers. For a moment they just stared at one another, and then she leant forward to kiss him on his lips.

"Jack, if you don't know by know that you're the only person for me," she lovingly told him, "then I guess you never will. Last night was silly and I've apologised. It will never happen again, I promise you that. Okay?"

She saw his eyes soften instantly.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Jack," she murmured, kissing him again.

She cursed herself for putting them in this position. But if any good had come from it, it was that she was determined never to compromise their relationship again.

*

Tony Yamamura entered the impressive building and made his way towards Nikolay Volkov's Dubai office. The Russian had an unfortunate sense of timing. Yamamura's early morning flight from England had just landed and his girlfriend was waiting for him back at their hotel.

Michelle could get herself in a right bitchy mood when she was deprived of sex. Not that the young Japanese man was under any illusions. Michelle had a tendency to quench her needs with any hunk in the immediate vicinity when he wasn't around. As it happened, he wasn't an innocent in that respect, either. They both fucked whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted, but still came back to each other.

Their relationship was based on more than just sex. They were business partners, too, and soon, they'd be millionaires...

That was if everything went to plan. Taking on someone as powerful as Nikolay Volkov was fraught with danger and he'd had to tread carefully so far. The Russian was an astute businessman and a former member of the Russian Mafia. But Yamamura was confident he would soon have the upper hand. His scheme to undermine his employer was falling into place and when Volkov discovered what had happened, it would be too late.

Both he and Michelle wanted the same sort of extravagant lifestyle that the Russian enjoyed. Volkov had more money than he could ever spend in a lifetime, partly made for him by men like Tony Yamamura. So why shouldn't he have his own cut of the action? He wanted the same power and influence, the same number of houses across the world, the private jets, yachts, and the beautiful women...

It wouldn't be long now!

There was very little about Nikolay Volkov's business that Yamamura didn't understand. The young Asian go-getter had made a point of fully immersing himself in the Russian's activities as he'd moved up the hierarchy, all with one ultimate goal in mind. By understanding and eventually copying the multi-millionaire's business model, he'd be able to set up a similar franchise and gain the rewards he knew he deserved.

That approach was starting to pay dividends now. Volkov knew someone was undercutting him but had no idea it was Yamamura. Soon, he'd have fully established himself as a serious business rival and when that happened, he and Michelle would have everything they'd ever wanted.

"Tony," Volkov greeted him, as he closed the office door behind him.

He spoke in that dull Russian accent that Yamamura hated so much. His tone gave absolutely nothing away.

Boris stood quietly next to the window in the far corner of the room. No-one knew of his second name. The blonde-haired German was Volkov's private bodyguard and was rarely on show like this. He would normally be found in the background, watching over Volkov like a guardian angel, ready to step in if anyone or anything threatened the Russian. Why was he here?

"Good flight?" Volkov asked.

Yamamura nodded deferentially. It had been a very good flight and the young woman he'd been sent to accompany to Dubai had exceeded his expectations. He'd already made plans for incorporating the brunette into his new activities, once he'd stolen her out of Volkov's clutches.

"The flight went well, but I'm unsure of its value," he lied, keeping a straight face. "I have my doubts about the woman."

"Jennifer Finney?"

"Indeed," Yamamura said, containing his surprise.

How did Volkov know her name? Moments like this reminded him never to underestimate the Russian. His attention to detail was legendary.

"And these doubts, Tony? Tell me more."

Yamamura glanced across at Boris before replying. The bodyguard's face was impassive. Was he even listening to the conversation?

He smiled when he glanced back at Volkov. He somehow needed to put the Russian off the scent. Jennifer Finney was a knockout and would be perfect for his and Michelle's operation.

"Oh, she's attractive enough," he slowly answered. "And she's intelligent, too. But your models are the crème-de-la-crème, Nikky. The world is full of beautiful women, but how many have the sexual presence to make it to the very top?"

Volkov nodded as he sauntered to the small bar in the middle of his office. He casually refilled his glass, but had clearly decided against offering the Asian a drink. He preferred to keep his employees in their place. It was another characteristic of his boss that Yamamura hated.

"It's a long way to bring someone you have doubts about, Tony," he softly said, turning back to fix him with a steely stare.

"She came highly recommended," Yamamura answered, with the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

He wanted to mix a degree of reverence with a calm confidence.

"But my standards and your standards are so much higher than others. We want only the very best, Nikky, yes? The photo shoot tomorrow should tell us a lot more."

"Photo shoots cost money," Volkov softly murmured. "If the woman isn't what we want, cancel it."

For the first time, Yamamura came close to losing his composure. He had several good reasons for wanting Jennifer Finney as part of the shoot.

"I did contemplate that, Nikky," he hurriedly lied. "But Clinique are paying all the costs, so it won't cost you a cent. And who know the woman may surprise me yet. So as she's here..."

His heart was in his mouth as he awaited Volkov's response. If his persuasive argument failed, he'd just have to proceed with the shoot without his boss's agreement. But that was a dangerous option.

The Russian took a large Havana cigar from the top drawer of the drinks cabinet, carefully unwrapping the cellophane as he thought. Snipping the end, he lit the cigar and then twirled it in his fingers so that it burned evenly. With a final flourish, he took a slow draw and blew the smoke out into the empty air. It seemed he'd made his decision.