Wicked Pleasures

by Penny Vincenzi

  His glass was empty again; Max called the waitress.

  ‘Two more bourbons, please.’

  ‘Yeah, she’d come on the boat, for days sometimes, we’d sail right down to the furthest tip of the Bahamas. What days. Six or eight of us, Errol Flynn used to join us a lot, it was Errol who taught me to like coke, God damn him. And there would be Ted and one of those film stars he could always get hold of. Rita, Ava, they all came. Rita was a great girl. Boy, did she have staying power! And yes, Papa Hemingway joined us occasionally. Heavenly days they were, fishing, swimming, and then at night, the parties. I tell you, Max, they don’t make parties like those any more. The games of strip poker we played –’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Max. ‘I just have to go to the men’s room.’

  He almost ran to the lavatory, and threw up. He sat on the toilet seat for a long time, tears rolling down his face. So that was what his mother had been like. A tart. Stripping off at parties, dancing in bars, abandoning her family for days on end, to go sailing with a load of expensive trash. And all the time coming over all cool and ladylike and pretending she was doing up people’s houses.

  He finally forced himself to go back.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Must have eaten something. Would you mind if we carried on with this in the morning?’

  ‘Sure. Are you all right? You look all in. Here, I’ll see you back to your hotel.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Max, managing to take in, even in his misery, that Soames-Maxwell was at least capable of concern and kindness. ‘Really. But if we could carry on in the morning, with some more tangible stuff, dates and things.’

  ‘Sure thing. Goodnight, Max.’

  ‘Goodnight, sir.’

  ‘Call me Tommy. Everyone does.’

  Chapter 29

  Virginia, 1966

  ‘Call me Tommy. Everyone does.’

  He looked down at her, this beautiful woman, smiling up at him from the harbour, tall, slender, dark-haired, indisputably classy, dressed in white slacks and a navy and white striped sweater.

  ‘All right – Tommy.’

  ‘I told Virginia she could come out with us for the day.’ Ted Franklyn had his arm round the woman’s shoulders, the other round his own current girlfriend and Hollywood’s latest rave discovery, Kristen de Wynter. ‘She’s lonely. Came down here with Mike Halston, and he’s gone off on a story somewhere.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Tommy. ‘I’d love it.’ He meant it. He didn’t like Kristen, she was stupid and she irritated him, and Ted acted like she was Einstein and the Queen of Sheba rolled into one. It would be nice to have what promised to be congenial company for the day.

  ‘Thank you, that’s really kind.’ Her accent had a strong tang of English. ‘Shall I get my swimsuit?’

  ‘If you like. We tend to swim in the raw,’ said Tommy, grinning at her. ‘My goodness. Perhaps I’d better not come.’

  ‘Of course you had. Go get it, if it’ll make you feel better. Are you staying at the Pier House?’

  ‘Yes I am. Can I bring some champagne or something?’

  ‘You certainly can.’

  She was back in ten minutes, carrying a big white bag; she was smiling, happy, like a child.

  ‘This is such a treat,’ she said, ‘I love boats.’

  ‘It’s a treat for me too,’ said Tommy.

  They made for the reef. ‘Would you like to snorkel?’

  ‘Oh yes, please.’

  ‘Ted? Kristen?’

  ‘No thanks. We’ll watch you and save our strength.’

  ‘Best wear a T-shirt,’ he told her, ‘you’ll burn your back in this sun.’

  ‘Well I would,’ she said, ‘but I don’t have one.’ She grinned at him. ‘A T-shirt sounds a little overdressed, after your earlier remarks.’

  ‘Well, just swimming’s different. Here, I’ll lend you a T.’

  He gave her one and a snorkel and a visor; she slithered into the water. ‘Follow me,’ he said, ‘I know a very pretty bit.’

  He had snorkelled on this reef maybe a hundred times; he never got used to it, the colours, the sweet peace of the world beneath the water, the friendly dazzle-coloured fish.

  ‘What’s stinging?’ she said, suddenly pulling her mouth-piece out. ‘It feels like a thousand stinging nettles are at me.’

  ‘Minute jellyfish. They’re harmless. You must have really sensitive skin. I can’t feel a thing.’

  ‘Oh I do,’ she said laughing. ‘I’m like the princess in the fairy story. I feel everything. This is gorgeous. In spite of the jellyfish.’

  They lay on the deck afterwards in the sun. She took her top off following, after a moment’s hesitation, Kristen’s lead; her breasts were startlingly white, the nipples dark and very large. Tommy kept his trunks on.

  ‘You’re a fraud,’ she said, ‘I was led to expect nudism.’

  ‘I don’t want to burn my cock,’ he said, ‘it’s very sensitive.’

  ‘Like my skin.’

  ‘Seems like they’re made for one another. Drink?’

  ‘Do you have any lemonade? Oh, here, I brought some champagne,’ she said diving into her white bag. ‘And some fruit.’

  ‘That’s nice. Won’t you have champagne?’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t drink.’

  ‘Never?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Well, we all do. May we drink your champagne, just the same?’

  ‘Of course. That’s why I brought it.’

  He called the steward; he had employed him for years, a little monkey of a man from Tangier. He lived on the boat, all year round, whether it was in use or not, acted as cleaner, cook, valet, butler. His name was simply J, he said, and the yacht, and Tommy, were all the family he had. Tommy had always suspected he was on the run from the police, but he had never asked any questions. J was too precious to risk losing.

  ‘So, tell us all about yourself,’ said Ted Franklyn. ‘How did you come to be here with Michael?’

  ‘Oh, he’s an old friend. I was in New York and he said his house down here needed doing over, I’m an interior decorator and I’ve seen all I need to of it, made my notes and done my plans, and I’m waiting to go back with him.’

  ‘Which is when?’

  ‘Day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Ah. And where does your English accent come from? It’s very pretty.’

  ‘A long sojourn there, I guess. With my husband.’

  ‘Ah, you have a husband then?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Name please.’

  ‘Alexander. Alexander Caterham.’

  ‘And does he not mind you coming away with a lot of dissolute types on boats?’

  ‘He’s in England.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘But no, we’re not divorced,’ she said, smiling. ‘We lead – well, very complicated lives.’

  ‘Would you like to be divorced?’

  ‘No,’ she said coolly, ‘not in the least.’

  ‘Well that’s excellent. Now then, Virginia Caterham, what would you like for lunch. J! What do we have for lunch?’

  ‘A fish mousse.’

  ‘Did I catch the mousse?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Good. Ted, Kristen, you OK?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Ted. ‘I think we might go below for an hour before lunch. It’s terribly hot out here.’

  ‘Fine. Virginia, are you OK?’

  ‘I’m OK.’

  ‘Good. Now I’m afraid the boat may rock for a while,’ he said to her as Ted and Kristen disappeared. ‘They have terribly energetic sex.’

  ‘I see.’

  He looked at her for a while, amused.

  ‘You’re very English, aren’t you? Terribly cool and composed.’

  ‘Not always,’ she said.

  After lunch, they slept for a while, under umbrellas; they awoke at four, hot and uncomfortable. ‘Let’s swim,’ said Tommy. ‘But we need to move off the reef. I’ll use the engine.’

  Twenty
minutes later they stopped again. He came out of the cabin, grinning. ‘Time to swim.’ He peeled off his slacks. ‘Just to prove I meant it.’

  ‘All right,’ she said, ‘I believe you. Do I have to follow suit?’

  ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I may as well.’

  She stood up too, and pulled off her own slacks and the T-shirt he had lent her. She looked at him, her eyes very cool and distant. Her pubic hair was very neat, very dark, and she was so thin her stomach was almost concave.

  ‘You don’t eat enough,’ he said, and then watched her as she turned and dived neatly into the water. Her buttocks by contrast were rounded and high; starkly white, oddly arousing.

  ‘That was nice,’ she said afterwards. ‘I really enjoyed that. Could I have some more lemonade?’

  ‘Why don’t you drink?’

  ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Tell me about you,’ she said suddenly, sitting up, towelling her hair. There were drops of water spangled on her eyelashes, on her brown skin, on the rich darkness of her nipples. She was slightly sunburnt; she looked suddenly freed from her rather formal self and oddly wanton.

  ‘Not a lot to tell.’

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘Spend my money.’

  ‘Which comes from?’

  ‘Stocks and bonds.’

  ‘I see. And how do you spend it?’

  ‘Enjoying myself. Fishing. Gambling. Sailing. Giving parties.’

  ‘Do you have a house?’

  ‘Yes I do. In California, near Santa Barbara. And another in Monaco. And a little place in Aspen.’

  ‘I used to ski in Aspen. When I was a child.’

  ‘You did? I wish I’d known you then.’

  ‘I wasn’t very pretty. I was tubby and I always had skinned knees.’

  ‘It sounds fine.’

  ‘And do you have a wife?’

  ‘Not at the moment. I have had several. Of course.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘The most recent is still, strictly speaking, my wife. But she has decided to marry a young man from Texas. He can provide her with even more than my alimony. So I think shortly I shall be free again.’

  ‘Is that good news?’

  ‘Neither good nor bad. Just part of the pattern.’

  ‘Do you have children?’

  ‘No. Do you?’

  ‘Yes, two,’ she said, and her eyes shadowed. ‘Two girls.’

  ‘And is that the final tally?’

  ‘No, it can’t be.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I have to have a son. For the dynasty, you know.’

  ‘What dynasty?’

  ‘Her husband’s a lord,’ said Ted, waking slowly to the conversation. ‘She has to provide an heir.’

  ‘A lord. So you’re a lady?’

  ‘Yes I am. A countess, to be precise.’

  ‘And do you like being a countess?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid I do.’

  ‘Do you have to get back tonight?’ he said as the sun started to sink and the water turned dark turquoise. ‘I mean we can call Michael, tell him you’re safe. I thought we could sail on for a while, have dinner, maybe drop anchor for the night. Get back some time tomorrow. It’ll be kind of easy that way. But we don’t have to if you’re concerned.’

  She turned and looked at him, her strange, cool, almost preoccupied look. ‘I’m not concerned,’ she said, ‘and certainly no one will be concerned about me. As long as we can tell Michael.’

  ‘Fine.’

  It was cooler; she went below, took a shower, came back up dressed in her slacks and a cream silk shirt.

  ‘You look gorgeous.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You intrigue me,’ he said, ‘everything about you intrigues me.’ His eyes moved over her body, very slowly, resting on her breasts, her crotch, moving back to her face.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. You seem – well, oddly rootless. In spite of the husband, the children, the dynasty.’

  ‘I’m not. But I am a free spirit. Or try to be.’

  ‘That must be difficult.’

  ‘It is. But I work at it.’

  After dinner, on deck, under the stars, Ted and Kristen smoked pot. Virginia declined, laughing. ‘It just never works for me.’

  ‘I’m going to have a little cocaine,’ said Tommy. ‘Just a little. Would you care to join me?’

  She looked startled, almost frightened. ‘No. No thank you.’

  ‘Don’t you have any vices?’ he asked, laying out the two lines of powder, carefully rolling a five-dollar bill, looking at her thoughtfully before he took it. ‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘one or two.’

  ‘I like you very much,’ he said ‘You’re fun.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Do you mind if I smoke a cigar?’

  ‘Not at all. My father smokes cigars. I like them.’

  ‘Who is your father? Would I know him?’

  ‘I don’t know. Fred Praeger.’

  ‘Fred the Third?’

  ‘The very one.’

  ‘So your brother is Baby Praeger?’

  ‘Yes he is.’

  ‘Baby – how is he?’

  ‘He’s fine,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘You’re very fond of him, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes I am.’

  ‘And you’re not very fond of your husband.’

  ‘Oh but I am,’ she said quickly.‘Very fond.’

  ‘Well then, what in God’s name are you doing here? With me?’

  ‘If I told you,’ she said lightly, ‘you’d never believe it.’

  ‘Can I fuck you?’

  The question was so direct, so unexpected, it startled her. She looked at him, her eyes very wide.

  ‘Well – I –’

  ‘Come on, Virginia. If I’d been talking sexy to you for an hour, telling you how lovely you were, gazing into your eyes, kissing you, you’d be ready for it wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Possibly, but you haven’t.’

  ‘OK,’ he said, slightly wearily. ‘Let’s get this show on the road. Virginia, you are one gorgeous lady. I get a hard-on just looking at you. Just thinking about you. I want to introduce my sensitive cock to your sensitive skin. Er – Princess. You have the most erotic arse I ever saw. No, I mean it. And a little later on, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be allowed to look at it again. For some time. Right. How am I doing?’

  ‘Not very well,’ she said, laughing. ‘Tell me, where do you come from?

  Where did all this money that is too much for you to count come from?’

  ‘My dad. And he got it from shipping. Good friend of Mr Onassis.’

  ‘Is he?’

  ‘He was. He’s dead. Which is why I have the money.’

  ‘And are you American born and bred? Good WASP stock?’

  ‘American born and bred, yes. WASP stock, no. My dad started in the engine rooms. He made enough to send me to Yale, though.’

  ‘And don’t you ever feel a need to do anything other than fish and sail and gamble and throw parties?’

  ‘No. No, I don’t.’

  ‘And your mother?’

  ‘She was a whore,’ he said briefly. ‘Can I kiss you now?’

  ‘Yes you can.’

  She was nice to kiss: warm, friendly. He stopped kissing her mouth after a bit and moved down to her breasts. The nipples were huge, hard and erect. He pulled back and smiled at her, then knelt down in front of her chair. ‘Take your clothes off.’

  She took the pants off, sat astride; he started kissing her, tonguing her. She was wet, salty, but oddly tense. He looked up at her.

  ‘Relax.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think I’m frightened.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘You, I suppose. Did you really go to bed with three girls, like Ted said?
’

  ‘Oh, frequently. And I’ve been in bed with one girl and two other men. And all kinds of other variations.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s fun. Don’t you ever do things like that?’

  ‘No, never. I’ve led a rather sheltered life in that department.’

  ‘So the Earl is a missionary man?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Virginia. Let me show you some fun.’

  His tongue probed further; she moaned, squirmed.

  ‘That’s better. Much better.’ He put his hands under her buttocks, moulding them, exploring them. ‘Beautiful,’ he said, ‘beautiful beautiful arse. Where did you get such an arse?’

  She smiled suddenly, took his head in her hands, kissed his mouth, hard, violently, then pushed his head back into her crotch, moaning, crying out. ‘There,’ he said, ‘there, that’s lovely. You taste gorgeous.’

  He eased her backwards then, moved up, kissing her stomach, slowly, hard, making it burn; then returned to her breasts again, licking them, working on them violently with his tongue. She suddenly cried out, slithered down onto the floor, her legs spreadeagled, pulled him down onto her.

  ‘Please,’ she said, ‘please. Quickly.’

  ‘Oh no,’ he said, and smiled into her eyes. ‘We have a long way to go yet.’

  He made her wait for a long time; he was surprised by the desperation, the urgency in her, but he still made her wait. He worked on her patiently: he talked dirty to her, he turned her over and over, kissing every corner and fragment of her; he brought her almost to orgasm twice with his tongue and then pulled back; he stood her up, holding her and then pushing her down onto his cock, and then as she cried out, began to throb, to flower, pulled away, again, and lay beside her just looking at her, laughing gently at her greed; and then finally he turned her, thrust into her, hard, feeling her frantically wet, softening, unfolding to him, and allowed her to come, at last; he felt her rising, tumbling, pulsating, and it went on and on, surprising even him, until he felt lost himself, in the tumult of her. And then she shrieked, loudly, fiercely, and arched her body violently under him, and held it there, in some great wild spasm that seemed nearer pain than pleasure; and then slowly, she came down, quietened, stilled; and when he finally released himself and then opened his eyes and looked into her golden ones, they were moist, and her cheeks were wet with tears, but she was smiling, radiant, oddly triumphant.