The Good Life (32 page)

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Authors: Gordon Merrick

BOOK: The Good Life
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Perry stepped forward as Bet turned toward the door. “I'll see you home. I want to go below for a minute.” They stood together with their arms linked. “If Bet guessed right about the nightcap, order a drink for me, Billy. A scotch. I'll be right back.”

He wanted to stay with Billy a little longer. He'd been very sweet all evening. Perry wondered at times why Billy even bothered with him. He demanded so little in return.

He escorted Bet down the stairs, his heart beating rapidly at being alone with her again. Did he dare give her cheek a peck before he let her go? They skirted the foot of the stairs and stopped in front of her door. She stood looking up at him, and his hands lifted hesitantly to her arms. Her lips parted in a slight smile, and she suddenly leaned in to him and lifted herself up on tiptoe.

“I'm glad you're here,” she whispered close to his ear. Her hands slid up over his shoulders and around his neck and pulled him down. She planted a kiss full on his mouth.

His arms tightened around her. She pulled away and slipped through her door, closing it behind her.

He caught himself as he was about to throw himself against it.

He careened along the passage and burst into his cabin, standing in the middle of the floor as he lightly fingered his lips. Bet had kissed him. He wasn't sure he'd felt her tongue, but it hadn't been a shy kiss. She had meant it. Her mouth had been soft and moist, and for the moment their lips had been joined, she hadn't tried to hide her desire.

He thought of Billy waiting on deck. He wasn't going to flaunt whatever success he had with Bet under Billy's nose. A kiss, spontaneously offered, was enough for tonight. If she wanted more, it was better to leave her alone to decide how much.

Having absorbed the sublime shock she'd given him, he went to the head to attend to the need that had brought him here. He hurried back to the deck, ready to celebrate.

Billy was sitting with two glasses on the table beside him. Sylvain was standing at ease with his hand on the back of Billy's chair. Billy didn't hesitate to flaunt his little escapades. The boy withdrew at Perry's approach. Their eyes still hadn't met.

“Your scotch awaits,” Billy said, picking up a glass and waving it at the other.

Perry took it and sat. “I enjoyed myself, didn't you?” he said expansively. “I like this place. I love being able to wander around without getting dressed up.”

“It's very relaxing. Even Marlene doesn't feel she has to dazzle us.”

“I expected Bet to be spoiled, but she's not at all. She obviously enjoys being with you, Billy.”

“I hope so. I'm pleased, naturally. It hasn't always been easy. You're perfect with her.”

“She makes it easy. Some girls don't like it if you don't make a big play for them.” He smiled to himself, thinking of the kiss. They were doing fine in their own way.

“She seems like a very sensible child. I think she knows what she wants and won't be put off easily. I can report to Arlene that we're off to a happy start.”

“Tell her I'm very busy searching for a fortune.”

Billy laughed. “You're another sensible child. You're much too sensible for each other. A pity, in a way. You make such an attractive couple. Do you want to stay with me a little longer? Shall we finish a charming evening with a quiet pipe?”

“I wonder if you're wasting that stuff on me, Billy. Granted, I'd had an awful lot to drink last night. May be I should give it another try. I couldn't really judge whether it had any effect or not.”

“It did. I know the signs — in your case, unusually agreeable ones. We'll just have two pipes. No more. That's enough for me today.”

They stood, holding their glasses, and started below.

Sylvain appeared, and Billy spoke to him in French. “I told him I didn't think we'd need him up here again tonight.”

At the foot of the stairs, Billy put his hand on Perry's arm and spoke in an undertone. “Do you want to put on your dressing gown? You'll be more comfortable.”

Billy was busy with his decorative equipment when Perry joined him in the cabin. Perry stretched out at the foot of the bed and watched Billy's quick expert hands as he prepared the drug. When it was ready, Billy took a long draw on it and sank down at the head of the bed, handing it to Perry.

Perry took his turn and held the smoke deep in his lungs. He had got through the day without too much stress and strain. The tricky meeting with Bet had gone well. He wasn't going to be dislodged. Billy wasn't going to make a fuss if Bet and he paired off for the summer. A happy start. He watched Billy prepare another pipe. A luxurious way to throw money away.

“It
does
do something, Billy,” he said, “but I don't know exactly what. It's sexy but not in a way that makes me want to do anything about it. Anybody who wants me can have me. Why fight it? I'm a pushover.”

They laughed and smoked in silence. There was a light knock on the door. They looked at each other, but neither made a move.

“Shall we let him in?” Billy asked.

“Whatever you want. Is it Sylvain?”

“I imagine so.”

“I do too, especially if you told him to come.” Perry looked at him with a knowing smile.

“You find him attractive even though you're suspicious of him. He's quite beautiful and eager to please, especially you. You intimidate him, which couldn't be better for him. I'd love to see you making love together.”

A spark of rebellion flared up in Perry. Did anybody have the right to expect him to perform on command? Billy had every right. Rebellion died. He had accepted the bargain. It was about time Billy made some demands.

An impression remained from last night that there was nothing wrong with Sylvain in bed. What
was
wrong with him? Absolutely nothing that Perry could make a real point about. He should be glad to give Billy something he wanted.

“We can't leave him out there all night,” Perry said as he sat forward and handed back the spent pipe. “Shall I let him in?”

“I'm so glad you're a pushover.”

Perry pulled himself to his feet, shaking off his agreeable lethargy, and straightened his dressing gown in case there were any surprises on the other side of the door. He opened it and stepped aside to admit Sylvain.

“I left everything in order on deck,” he reported to Billy. “I am free.” Sylvain turned to Perry, and a wary look came and went as it was absorbed into a winning smile. He had removed his bow tie, and his shirt was unbuttoned to expose his brown chest. Perry guessed that he'd been coached by Billy. “You don't need me to show you where your cabin is tonight,” he said.

Perry laughed. He could be friendly if that was what Billy wanted. “You're a very good guide,” he said, acknowledging the intimacy with the bantering warmth of his voice.

Perry tossed his dressing gown onto the bed. Sylvain stripped with a few effortless movements as if nakedness came naturally to him. He seemed to blossom as his sleek brown body emerged from the commonplace working outfit. Perry envied his color. He was glad to see he had no need to envy his cock; Perry's own was much bigger.

Sylvain's hands moved on him with possessive familiarity — smoothly, expertly, seductively. Perry laughed as they came to grips with each other at the end of the bed. He stepped back to give Billy a moment to admire the two handsome, well-developed young men in the hard pride of their manhood. He knew instinctively what was expected of him. He doubted he could do anything worth $250,000, but he could try.

Perry suspected that Sylvain enjoyed showing off as much as he did. After a moment he understood that Sylvain wouldn't object to being taken. Feeling his surrender was an unexpected triumph for him, but he didn't feel like making the effort. Let Sylvain make all the effort; he was adept and willing. Perry was content to drift lazily to climax. He was in control.

They took turns in the head, and when Perry came out, Billy was alone. “The party's over?” he asked.

“I sent him on his way. A pretty creature, don't you think?” His eyes wandered over Perry's nakedness. “You're magnificent, however. You always win.”

Perry put his dressing gown on, smiling to himself. Billy understood completely.

As Perry started along the passage, his eyes settled on Bet's door, and he cringed with shame. He had done it for Billy — the bargain — but he shouldn't have accepted a bargain that required him to put on a show of queer sex with a hired hand. He was a hired hand himself.

He thought of Bet's sweet young kiss. Billy was right. He wasn't fit to fool around with a decent girl. He was tainted.

He closed his own door silently behind him, wondering how it had started. His moving in with Hubie had been a straightforward expedient to solving his housing problem. He hadn't been tempted by sex with him. He hadn't even known he could enjoy sex with a guy. That had crept up on him slowly, the first few times taking him by surprise. It wasn't until Timmy that he'd realized he could actually want it.

So he was queer — or queer enough for it to play a part in his life. That didn't excuse his putting on a show for Billy. He was corrupt. If he really cared about Billy, he mustn't corrupt Bet.

He was awakened by the motion of the boat, a gentle lift and sway that started to put him back to sleep, but he couldn't resist going to see what they were doing and where they were going. He could feel the motor in a slight vibration more than hear it.

He rang for breakfast while he was waking himself up in the head. Emile brought him coffee and a flaky croissant. Out the window, if it was permissible to call it that, he could see that the sun was shining and that they were out in the bay. A blue ridge of land was visible in the distance.

He pulled on swimming trunks and hurried up to the deck, hoping Bet was up. In the bright light of day, he was feeling less of an evil influence. Drugs had peculiar effects on people, but he wasn't going to become an opium addict. She must have heard of guys playing around with each other. He might be a model of virtue compared to the people she was used to.

Nobody was sitting on deck. A sailor was standing at the wheel. They were running along the shore, close enough to see roads and houses and trees. A stretch of beach made him wonder if they'd driven along here yesterday.

Henri approached with a cheerful “Good morning” while he was looking around. “Do you wish a beer, sir?” he asked.

Perry grinned at him. “You guessed.” It was 11 o'clock. “Am I the first one out?”

“No, sir. Miss Bettina is there.” He nodded toward the bow.

“Oh, good. Give me a beer, and I'll go see her.”

He stood at the rail on the land side — the starboard side — and looked for familiar landmarks. The town was already behind them, the hill and tower still visible. He supposed that all this was part of the Saint-Tropez peninsula and that they would have to go around it before they saw more of the coast. There was nothing but sea ahead of them. They were towing a small dinghy from the stern. It bounced and bounded about in their wake like a puppy.

Henri returned with the beer, and Perry took only a hasty swallow before starting forward on the uncovered deck.

His heart gave a leap of delight as he spotted her among the mattresses. There was no doubt about it. He felt a special pleasure looking at her and knowing he was going to be with her. It was different from anything he'd ever felt. They somehow seemed to belong together. It wasn't just that she was strikingly attractive. She made him feel good. She was fun. He could feel it even looking at her. She was wearing one of her skintight one-piece swimming suits, yellow today. It did wonders for the rich golden tan she was acquiring.

“Not fair, Miss Vernon. You've been in the sun ahead of me,” he said, standing over her.

She sat up quickly and looked up at him with a smile that made him feel she'd been waiting for him.

“What a lazybones,” she scoffed. “I've been out for hours.”

“Have you really?” He dropped down onto the mattress beside her.

“Well, about an hour, May be. Since we left port. Are you going to give me a sip of your beer?”

“I'll get one for you.”

“No, just a sip of yours. Hold it for me. I'm all oily.”

He held his glass out for her. She put her hand on his to guide it. He felt the electric jolt of her touch all through him. How could he hope to keep his distance if she treated him with such adorable familiarity?

They had become intimates; that couldn't be undone. Her sharing his beer was like another kiss. It created pressure in his trunks that made him long to put his arms around her.

She took a swallow and drew back, letting her hand drop from his. His burgeoning erection subsided.

She licked her lips with a gurgle of glee. “That's almost too good to be allowed. Don't let me get fat. Have you come out without any sun-tan stuff? Really!” She had her carryall beside her and delved into it to pull out a bottle. “You're the absolute limit. One would think you
wanted
to get burned.”

She nudged him into position with his back to her and began to apply oil liberally to his neck and shoulders. She may not have meant for her hands to feel as if they liked what they were doing, but they slid over him in long, thrilling strokes that seemed to take possession of him. They moved down the sides of his ribs to the top of his trunks. He had a hard-on.

“That's wonderful,” he said when he was thoroughly oiled. “You don't mind taking care of me?”

“You're such a big baby.” She left a hand lying idly on his waist. “You have a lovely body. Somebody should take care of it.” She leaned against him and gave him a quick kiss beside his shoulder blade.

“What about you?” he blurted to show that a girl kissing his back was nothing to get excited about. “Let me put some on you.”

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