The Good Life (30 page)

She looked adorably young, just beginning to take the definitive shape of her feminine maturity. He could hardly resist the urge to lift her breasts from her suit and look at them. They were small but delectable and demanded gentle caresses. Her long legs were strong and smooth, and the total effect of her was of an almost heartbreaking, dewy freshness. It seemed to him that having such a young girl would turn sex into an act of awed reverence. He couldn't believe that the women he had known could have ever had this untouched, tender perfection.

She saw his eyes on her, and a playful look sprang up in her eyes. “Aren't we going swimming?” she asked.

“I'm dying to.”

“Like that?” A giggle bubbled up in her.

He looked down at himself and laughed: He was still in his jersey and shorts. “I had my mind on more important matters. You're not bad for a schoolgirl.”

He pulled the jersey off over his head, then dropped the shorts with a twist of his hips. The very act of stripping in front of her aroused him.

He reached down for the shorts to fold them over where his money was and gave his trunks a discreet tug to allow his cock to lie flat in a slant across his groin. He hoped the bulge wasn't too conspicuous. May be she wouldn't know what it was. He looked up in time to catch her eyes on it.

She raised her eyes a split second after him, and their eyes met, and they burst out laughing.

“Not bad for an old roué,” she commented ambiguously.

He hated to miss an opening if it was one but decided to play it safe until he was more sure of her.

“Okay,” he cried. “Take a deep breath. It's probably cold.”

They ran down to the unfurling breakers and dived in. They gasped and shouted with the cold and swam hard for a few minutes, she much more expertly than he. She kept up with him easily with the expenditure of much less effort. The exercise calmed the inconvenient stirring in his groin.

Climbing out, he realized that if she were watching, she could see now that he must have had a hard-on before. Would it shock her?

Their swim had brought them much closer to the people he had seen from afar. He noticed several guys who were wearing trunks as brief as his. There was one who looked bare-assed from behind, but when he sat up Perry saw that a patch of something covered the front.

“I guess people don't wear much of anything here,” he said as they started back to their towels.

“If for no other reason, Saint-Tropez is becoming famous for its naked beaches.”

“Really? You mean really naked?”

“So they say. I've never seen it, but there's so much room that you could easily miss it. I don't think I'd like it. Would you?”

“I can't imagine it. May be you'd get used to it. People who go to nudist camps must like it.”

“Those are Germans. They're different. One of the islands out there is for nudists.” She waved at the sea. “Port-Cros or Porquerolles. I don't remember which. May be Daddy will take us one day.”

“I'm game if you are. But you don't have to be a nudist just because they are.”

“Oh, yes. You're not allowed in unless you're naked. People with clothes on shock them.”

They laughed at her mock-serious explanation. “They miss all the fun of undressing people in their minds,” Perry said, trying a more outspoken line.

“Do you do that?” she asked.

“Doesn't everybody? I don't mean innocent schoolgirls, of course.”

“Ho, ho, ho. You should hear the things we talk about at school. Don't tell Daddy.”

They laughed again. They looked at each other through mirthful eyes and were suddenly seized with a burst of energy.

They raced each other back to their base. He was able to stay ahead of her, though just barely. They came to a halt almost in each other's arms, panting and laughing. For a glorious moment he felt her body against him.

He let her go as he felt the slight withdrawal in her. No need to hurry her. He was beginning to believe that he had a chance with her. Everything was developing much faster and more easily than he had expected.

He wondered if she really knew anything about Billy. If she did, she'd been able to accept it. He hadn't felt any resistance on her part toward him, not a trace of resentment. If he'd been asked to describe his ideal summer companion, she would have been it. He'd been determined to win her over and had braced himself to take a lot of crap from a snooty rich girl. He was ready to fall in love with her now simply for her not being any of the things he'd feared. He loved being made to feel older and worldly-wise.

They lay on their towels, touching each other lightly here and there when the occasion arose, getting used to the physical freedom they could evidently permit each other without self-consciousness.

When she lay on her back with her eyes closed, he could let his eyes wander over her to his heart's content, lingering on all the adorable details — the gentle swell of her sex between her thighs, the tender perfection of her breasts, the absurdly willful young profile. Life was good if he was allowed to forget the bargain that had brought him here.

They swam. They took a long walk along the beach, seeing nothing that jarred the tranquil purity of the slightly stark coastal seascape.

He gazed back the way they had come. A speck in the distance was probably their towels. “Goodness, have we walked that far?”

He threw an arm around her waist and drew her close. She didn't pull away. Step by step. She had as much as admitted that she had looked at his body and liked it. She might soon begin to want it.

“Shall we swim back? Do you think you can make it?”

“Listen to him. I'll pull you out when you've had enough.” She took his hand from her waist and held it while they walked into the water. “Is this going to be a race or an endurance contest?”

“Let's wait and see how it turns out,” he said, grinning at her.

“I'm beginning to understand men. If you're ahead, it's a race.” She lifted her hands and lightly prodded his shoulders with her fingers, a slight frown on her level brows. “You're not getting burned, are you?” she asked, sounding like a child playing mother. There was nothing childlike about the intimacy of her touch. It thrilled him whether or not she intended it to.

“I'll be careful,” he promised. “I'm not used to such hot sun. At least you're here to take care of me.”

She sat facing him in water up to her neck. “Now I have two babies to take care of. You're as bad as Daddy.” They slid into deeper water and swam lazily back to the towels.

Perry's happiness grew as the afternoon wore on. She delighted him. They were becoming closer and closer with every look they exchanged, every electric contact of their bodies. He didn't think she could be totally inexperienced. She was ready.

By the time they were talking about leaving, he knew that she had accepted his body as naturally as he wanted hers. He caught her eyes on his trunks several times, but her glances were furtive. Nice girls didn't stare.

When they got back to the boat, Sylvain was on deck waiting to serve them. Perry's euphoria was too deep-seated to be dimmed by the unwelcome presence, but the deck steward concentrated on oozing charm in French with Bet, and Perry was able to avoid direct contact with him.

“I'm ready for a shower,” Perry announced when Bet turned back to him. “I guess we might as well put some clothes on for the evening.” His jersey was slung around his neck.

She stood in front of him, toying with the sleeves that hung down over his chest. She looked at his shoulders. Her sweet, solicitous eyes showed concern for his welfare; he felt pampered and cared for.

“Will I survive, doctor?” he asked.

“You wouldn't be laughing if you got burned,” she said with a show of maternal severity. “I think that oil did the trick, but you've got to be careful. Put some more on after your shower. Men are so helpless.”

“What would be the point of women if we weren't?” He shaped a little kiss with his lips. She wiped it away with a hand that felt as if it liked touching his face. “You don't get all dressed up here, do you?” he asked as they started down the stairs.

“Heavens no. Only for special parties. I think we're going to a restaurant tonight.”

“I'll tell your father we're back.”

They parted at the foot of the stairs. Perry ducked into his cabin to drop his book and paused to prepare himself for the encounter he'd postponed. The chances were that Billy didn't know what a state he'd been in at noon. He almost certainly didn't know that Sylvain had showed himself.

The afternoon had been too serenely satisfying to have left much room for resentment. He'd probably got himself worked up about nothing. Billy had always made a point about their being free agents. He'd given him his blessings with Timmy. Why shouldn't he play games with Sylvain? That was surely all it amounted to.

He dropped his shorts and peeled off the damp trunks and put on a dressing gown. He went along the passage to Billy's door and knocked, pleased that he'd given himself the afternoon to cool off.

“Yes,” Billy called.

He tried the door. It opened. Billy beamed at him as he entered. He was wearing gray pale slacks and a colorful sport shirt and was holding a drink. He went to Perry and gave his shoulder an affectionate pat as he scrutinized him.

“My word, what a beautiful color you're turning. You're superb. Did you like the beach?”

“It's wonderful. We've had a perfect afternoon. Bet and I get along like a house afire.”

“I'm so glad. I know she's safe with you. I've been thinking of suitable men I can bring along to share the burden.”

“I'm sure she'll draw them like flies. May the best man win. Arlene's warned her that I'm a fortune hunter. She says she is too. We've made a bet on who'll get married first.”

“I imagine that's the sort of thing the young talk about these days. It's quite extraordinary. Did you get the impression that she has somebody in mind?”

“We didn't get to that. I'll keep you posted.”

“Perhaps you can spare me the trouble of digging up those suitable men. I do hope so. I've been having a peaceful interlude with the pipe. I missed you.”

“You didn't miss me much this morning. I know it's not your fault, but you might suggest to your new friend that he should stay out of sight when you want him to.”

“Oh?” A glint of annoyance flashed into Billy's eyes as he moved away from Perry. “He thought he looked rather pleased when he said he thought you'd seen him. How tiresome of him. And while we're on the subject, I might suggest that outside in the corridor isn't the best place for lovemaking.”

“What do you mean? Last night? Oh, God. I don't remember anything about it. Tit for tat. Let's forget it.” He was sorry he'd started the conversation. He suddenly found it embarrassing and unworthy of them. He wanted to wash up and go find Bet.

“I'm quite ready to forget it if you understand that I find it intolerable to be called to account. I've demonstrated my respect for your freedom.
My
freedom should be unquestioned.”

“I'm free to leave. Is that what you want to tell me?” It was out before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted it. It raised issues that he'd been ready to drop.

“Oh, come, dearest boy. You're much too intelligent to threaten me. I was aware that you were displeased about something at lunch. I thought perhaps you resented Bet. I'm delighted that it's something so trivial. We won't allow a sailor boy to become an issue between us. I didn't think you'd let your moods affect your good manners. It's time for you to take your position for granted.”

“Oh, Christ, Billy. Don't you understand anything?” he burst out. Billy's conciliatory tone undermined his control. What was control for if he had nothing to fight? “Don't you know what you've done to me?” he demanded, despising the tears that he heard in his voice. “You've given me everything, but what does it amount to? Be what you want me to be or get out. My position? What is it? Be nice to Bet, but watch your step. Even Sylvain can sneer at me. He's just waiting to take my place.”

“Oh, my dearest boy. You're quite wrong, you know. He's entranced by you.” He approached Perry, looking genuinely distressed.

Perry stood his ground, angry for feeling so sorry for himself.

Billy gripped his arms. “Nobody can take your place. I must've made that clear. I've never been good at expressing emotion. You know that. You'll learn with time that I mean what I say even if I don't say it eloquently. We both know there will be others. Why pretend otherwise? It's the way we both want it. Imagine how you'd feel if I went into a decline every time you looked at somebody else. I can't think of anything more absurd.”

“That may be true, but the fact remains that I take you seriously. I want it to be as good as we can make it. I thought we were supposed to be on our best behavior for Bet.”

“Ah, that. Is that what you're thinking about? Thanks for reminding me. I'll see that Sylvain doesn't step out of line again. I might add that I'd never speak about you like that.”

“He's already boasting to the others on board that he can have Bet if he wants her.”

“He is? What cheek. You think a young lout like that could take your place — as if you had a
place
to take? You give me no credit for good sense, let alone taste. Your place is your own. You're irreplaceable.”

“Thank you, Billy. I…”

Billy gave Perry's arms a loving little shake. “As for Bet, I never meant to tell you to watch your step. I don't have to. I'm not Arlene. She's obsessed with Bet's marriage. What possible interest would you have in undertaking a wife who can do nothing for you?
My
point about Bet is a very private matter between you and me. It's none of Arlene's business. You'll handle the…let's say, delicate situation, much better than I could. I leave it to you.”