Models and Super Spies Ch. 06

It went off like a depth charge, filling her slick walls with wet, satisfying heat. She rolled her head back and screamed until her throat went raw.

His slender body dripping with sweat, Alexander flopped down on the bed next to her, panting heavily. "Jesus Christ!" she huffed, running her fingers through her own hair and finding the dark tresses wet around her forehead.

"Yeah, that was fun," he agreed.

It only took a couple minutes of silence before Michelle started to feel restless, although Alex seemed content. She was already thinking of bumping up, of getting dressed and getting back on the dance floor. But she knew how important it was to keep the man at her side happy, so she bit her lip and kept lying there.

"So what do you think of Gabrielle's new girl?" he asked out of the blue.

She closed her eyes and tried to stay cool, although she knew her lips had pursed tightly. Alicia Kennedy, of course. That bitch. That newcomer. "She's not exactly Gabbie's girl," Michelle responded jealousy. "Not yet, anyway."

Alex laughed. Michelle didn't like it. "Well, Gabrielle has personally requested her for her new scent," the insolent man continued. Michelle started to feel hot -- and it wasn't due to sexual energy this time.

"If that skinny blonde is Gabbie's new favorite, then why's she staying at my place?!" the Asian model demanded. Part of her knew she'd said too much, that her supermodel lover had specifically asked that her latest visit was a secret, but suddenly she didn't care. This man needed to be put in his place.

"Oh really? I didn't realize she was in town."

Great, she'd definitely said too much. "She's here incognito. She does that from time to time." Deeper and deeper. But she couldn't help herself. "But she always stays with me. Alicia may be the flavor of the month, but Gabbie knows who her real friends are."

"Of course," he said. Why did he sound so smug? Michelle could feel a tantrum coming on. Before it could erupt, though, her phone went off.

"Fuck! Who the fuck?" she screamed, rolling over and flipping open her cell. It was a text.

FYI TONY'S UPSTAIRS WITH BLONDIE

DAMAGE CONTROL TIME GIRL

"AH!" Michelle screamed, kicking her legs before sitting up. Not only was that girl moving in on her place in the modeling world, but she was going to sleep with her boyfriend?! Fuck that! "I have to go, Alex. Time to teach someone her place!"

Alex didn't move to follow her. He continued to watch her with interest, her eyes thoughtful. "Good seeing you, Michelle."

She grinded her teeth, already thinking of how good it would feel to pull that pretty golden hair of Alicia's.

***

Alicia allowed herself to be led through the various rooms of the club, back up the now familiar flight of stairs, and into one of the private suites of Condo.

She felt like she was a cloud in the middle of a windstorm. She floated, but was unable to control her direction. Her movement. Her body still tingled from her first hit of the coke, although that chemical confidence was fading -- had been fading since they'd left the "viewing room."

Alicia wanted to feel that rush again. If Tony had laid out a couple lines, she would have taken her turn. She saw how it could be so addictive.

But he didn't do any of that. Instead, he pulled her through the tidy living room and into the sole bedroom of the place, practically slamming the door behind them in his urgency.

The room was luxuriously furnished, more like the set of a five-star hotel than a real bedroom you'd stumble upon in a condo complex. That was the point, Alicia thought: this whole place felt like a set. Too perfect to be real. Too staged.

She let her mind dwell on the surreal nature of the club because she didn't want to think about her current situation. She wished her body felt as numb as her mind, but it didn't. It was on fire. Her heart fluttered, her skin tingled, and her sex was wet.

She allowed Tony to pull her into his thick arms. She looked up at him, at his strong, chiseled good looks and the way his dark eyes danced with need. She allowed herself to be kissed, to be consumed. And she consumed back.

"You are so fucking hot," he whispered in her ear as he nibbled along her jaw, down the side of her neck. She sighed as he kissed and licked her most erogenous zones.

They kissed again. Control was slipping away. She caught her reflection in a full length mirror over his shoulder. It was like watching two strangers going at it. His shirt came off, floating to the floor. God, he was like an Adonis: a perfect, male upper body.

She threw herself against him, running her nails down his back as their lips and mouths clashed, their tongues dancing wildly. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her through his jeans. It throbbed. She moaned, feeling his fingers draw open her halter. The last bits of her modesty were slipping away.

Soon, she'd be this man's -- this stranger's. She'd be an adulterous, and this time, her betrayal would be complete.

***

"Why?!" Trey cried, punching the inside wall of the van so hard it shook. His hand barely registered the pain. "WHY? WHY? WHY?!"

Caroline glanced in the rearview mirror as she drove them back to the hotel, but didn't say anything. Liz did her best to soothe him, holding him like a weeping child as he bawled, all the while her mind was racing with the same question. Why?

One thing kept repeating itself again and again. Something that Vincent had said when they were together, back at the training facility. Well, this next mission'll clear up how he feels, one way or another.

Is this what he meant? Had Vincent played a part in Alicia Kennedy's act of cuckoldry? She had to find out.

***

"No, I can't!" Alicia's mind cried, even as she felt her top slip away from her breasts. Tony ducked his head enough to swallow her left nipple. She clung to his full head of hair, drawing him closer even as she fought to get away.

If she didn't stop this now, she'd never get away. Not until she felt his cock inside her…

His cock. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. The thought of his strange flesh parting her, invading her. Of being taken. Of being one with the forbidden.

You can't… the voice of her conscious sounded feeble. Illogical. Why couldn't she? She was young and beautiful. She was the next thing. The shit. Guys like Tony fell over her. They'd do anything for a chance to be with her.

Her knees buckled against the edge of the bed. Suddenly, she was sitting. Even more suddenly, her fingers were opening Tony's pants, feeling his pulsing excitement beneath her hands.

She looked up along his muscled body, the toned contours of tanned flesh. Her left hand traced his six-pack just to see if this visage was true. It was. His abs were as real as the thick cock she pulled from his boxer-briefs.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes glimmering with need. She was his fantasy as much as he was hers. She bit her lower lip. Do it. Don't do it. She stroked him with her right hand as her mind warred. God, he was thick. Could she even get her mouth around him?

A bead of pre-cum dribbled out across the swollen head of his beautiful member. She leaned forward. Her heart skipped a beat. And then she had it in her mouth.

I can't, I can't! she continued to protest, even as her sex warmed to the feeling of his hot flesh against her tongue. She kept her soft brown eyes on his face. She was making him grunt. She was causing those muscles to flex. Such power. All hers.

"I can't," she cried, tearing her mouth from his erection. Before he could even register a thought, before that inevitable moment of confusion, the door flew open. The maelstrom had finally found them.

"You fucking BITCH!" a woman was screaming.

Black hair and a skimpy dress launched itself at her, tackling the stunned blonde back on the bed. Her scalp burned as the girl's hands clawed at her hair. It was like she was being attacked by a wild animal. She only caught snippets through the hysterics. "My man!" and "you slutty cunt!"

Tony restrained her. Or someone did. Suddenly she was free. She grabbed her top. Blocked out the pain in her head. She blinked. There were people in the doorway. Amused people holding half-empty cocktails.

She pushed between them. Fled from the room without looking back. She needed to get out of there before the angered female could make pursuit.

She tied her top on the way down the stairs, somehow not getting lost as she navigated the warren of rooms and dance floors. Out into the street, the merciful night air filled her flaring nostrils.

She hailed a cab. "Get me out of here!" she practically cried as she jumped in. She looked back, half expecting to see Tony or that crazy lady waving a fist in the air, the crowd of beautiful gawkers laughing. But there was no one. The street was empty aside from a bored looking bouncer and a cab station.

The night wasn't over. She had a lot of things to do before the sun rose. Packing. A letter to write. And a world of change to accept.

***

"Thanks for the update. Seems like everything's going according to plan." Vincent Silva hung up the phone without a goodbye, allowing himself to sit back in his lounger and relax. Things really were going well.

He held his bourbon to his lips and sniffed the heady aroma. Patience had won the day, it seemed. He could certainly be patient when he needed to be.

Just before taking his sip, the front doorbell chimed. He checked his watch. "Who could this be?" he asked aloud, setting the glass down and pulling himself up. It was nearly 1:30 in the morning. He thought about putting a shirt on, catching a reflection of himself in the mirror, but decided that anyone coming to his door at this time of night would have to deal with his shirtlessness.

Checking the peephole, he was glad he'd made that decision. "Liz, what brings you here tonight?" he asked as the door swung open. He'd seen her as a brunette before, but she'd never looked this good. And that short little baby doll dress of hers…

"Was in the neighborhood," she winked, sauntering past him.

"Love the hair."

"You always know just the right thing to say to a girl." With her back to his, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to her ankles. He stroked her with his eyes, loving the aquamarine bra and matching thong.

"Can I get you anything?" he grinned.

"I think so," she smiled back, leading the way to the bedroom. God, Vincent, he thought, your life is good.

Next chapter: Turning Point