It excited her wildly that this man at the same time as dealing in billions of dollars could give her his undivided attention. All her grievances came pouring out: ‘Having been dragged up by a succession of nannies himself, Ricky thinks Will ought to be brought up by his mother.’
‘Will’s a nice kid,’ said Bart. ‘He’s only whiny, over-adrenalized and super-aggressive because he’s picking up tensions from your marriage. You’re both too screwed up to give him enough attention.’
‘That’s not true.’ Chessie dropped her fork with a furious clatter. ‘If you’re going to talk to me like that, I’m going.’
Bart caught her wrist, pulling her back.
‘Stop over-reacting,’ he said sharply. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. Will’s playing up because you’re miserable.’
‘Does your son Red throw up in porches and no doubt in Porsches because you and Grace aren’t happy?’ spat Chessie.
‘Grace no longer excites me. Let’s go upstairs,’ said Bart calmly and he opened a door hidden in the romping nymphs behind him which led straight into a lift. ‘The beauty of this place is you don’t have to go through Reception to get to the bedrooms.’
It was a most unsatisfactory coupling. Bart was too anxious to get at her. Chessie was too angry and uptight to get aroused. Despite her moans and writhings, Bart knew she hadn’t come. Sick with disappointment and frustration, she got dressed. Here was just one more failure because she was not able to tell people what she liked, that she never came from straight screwing, and never with Ricky.
‘Poor little Rick’s girl,’ said Bart, kissing her forehead.
It’s all over, thought Chessie miserably.
As they went outside, Bart’s telephone rang again. He talked so long that Chessie was about to wander off without even saying goodbye when he hung up in jubilation.
‘I’ve got forty-nine per cent. By tomorrow lunchtime I’ll have nailed him.’
‘What’s your next take-over target?’ asked Chessie sulkily.
‘You are,’ said Bart. He glanced at his watch. ‘They’ll just be throwing-in. We’re going for a ride.’
Like all polo players, he drove too fast, overtaking with split-second timing, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on Chessie’s thigh. As the limo swung round the hangar, the helicopter standing on the apron was as blue as the Flyer’s polo shirts and as the sky above. On its side in dark blue letters was written: ‘Alderton – your friend in high places’.
Chessie sat in the passenger seat with the full flight harness biting into her pink dress. Having gone round turning on switches and tightening screws as a pre-flight check, Bart had taken off his jacket and his green silk tie, and was secured by just a seat belt round his waist.
Satisfied everything was in order, he started up the engine. There was a thrilling roar as the jets took a grip on the rotors which quickly accelerated to their operating speed. With a last look round to see everything was clear, Bart alerted the control tower, who asked for his destination and initial reading.
‘We’re going to do local flying towards the south-east, not above a thousand feet,’ said Bart.
As they flew over yellowing fields and rain-drenched woods and villages, Chessie gave a scream of joy.
‘Isn’t it heaven, just like a child’s farm? If you picked up the houses they’d be hollow underneath.’
She longed to run her hand up and down Bart’s pin-striped thigh, hard as iron like Ricky’s.
‘There’s David Waterlane’s place,’ said Bart. ‘You can see them stick and balling.’
Down below Chessie could see the dark, silken flash of the lake flecked with duck, and the dark brown oval of the exercise ring.
‘If you look closely,’ she said, ‘you may see Clemency sunbathing in the nude, or Juan getting his back brown on top of her. Talk about One flew over the Cuckold’s Nest.’
Bart laughed. The sun was beating down on the glass bubble. Oh hell, I’m getting too hot again, thought Chessie.
Five minutes later Bart pointed out a beautiful, white house with a green roof, set in a clearing thickly ringed with woodland. He flew so low that Chessie could see the cars glittering outside the front door and white figures leaping on the tennis court. The swimming-pool glittered in the sunshine like an aquamarine.
‘Gorgeous place,’ breathed Chessie.
‘Belongs to Ashley Roberts,’ Bart’s voice thickened with excitement. ‘When I take him over tomorrow and fire him later this year, he’ll be forced to put it on the market. How’d you like to live there?’
Chessie went very still.
‘We rattle enough in our present house,’ she said lightly.
Ahead loomed a huge, apparently substantial, white-and-mushroom-brown cloud which had formed into turrets, icebergs and snow drifts.
‘Let’s go through that archway,’ said Bart, not even touching the snow-white edges. Now he was flying alongside a massive, pinky cliff, just clipping it, laughing as Chessie flinched away. ‘I used to play around for hours like this when I was a boy. Now I’m going right into this cloud. This is the most scary feeling in the world,’ he added, as they were enveloped in dense fog. ‘Even after years of flying it still scares the shit out of me. You can’t figure if you’re upside down. You have a total disregard of what the brain is telling you. It’s completely disorientating.’ Then, as he came out into brilliant sunshine, he smiled at her, powerful as he was handsome. ‘Pretty much like meeting you.’
He does like me, thought Chessie in ecstasy, and I’m mad about him. He’s tied up in a mega-take-over, and he’s fooling around in the air with me.
The sun was beating down on the bubble again. The shimmering fields and woods seemed to stretch for ever. Sheep huddled under the trees like lice.
‘I’m baking,’ gasped Chessie, wishing she could find some shade like them.
‘Take your dress off,’ said Bart idly. ‘Just undo the harness and take it off.
‘Ker-ist,’ he said a moment later, as Chessie threw the dress behind her seat. ‘Oh, Christ.’
She was only wearing a pair of rose-patterned white pants. The slenderness of her waist emphasized the fullness of her thighs, and her breasts soft and white-gold in the sunshine with the nipples pink and spread. Her cheeks were very flushed, her eyelids drooped over eyes leaden with lust.
She’d put Victor’s bimbo in the shade, thought Bart. She was more beautiful than any of the girls his son Red attracted.
‘Two joysticks,’ murmured Chessie, putting her hand on his cock. ‘I know which one I’d like best.’
Bart wanted her now, but, even on automatic pilot, making love in a helicopter is not in the flight manual.
‘We’re over Victor’s land,’ he said in amusement. ‘There’s a clearing in the wood where we can land. No one will find us. I’ll just tell them I’m going down.’
‘On me I hope,’ whispered Chessie.
Having cleared with flight control, Bart eased the power and headed for the trees. Chessie saw the clearing, a little sage-green disc, cut in half by a winding stream, flanked by willows. There were no houses near by. Switching off, Bart allowed the blades to stop before opening the door and jumping on to the lush green grass. Next moment he’d walked round to the other door, and his arms were deliciously full of Chessie.
‘Jesus, you’re lovely,’ he murmured, carrying her to the shade of a large oak tree. This time he was going to take it very slowly.
‘Why did you pretend you came before?’ he asked, as he laid her gently down in the groin of two huge roots.
Chessie opened her eyes in terror. ‘I didn’t,’ she stammered, ‘I came beautifully.’
‘Liar!’ Peeling down her pants, he slid his fingers into the oily cavern. ‘That’s better. I should put you across my knee for distracting me at nine hundred feet.’
Instantly, her breath quickened, her eyes went dull, her legs widened ecstatically. So that’s it, Bart thought in triumph, she wants to be treated like a naughty little girl. His hand slid to her bottom, exploring gently but persuasively.
‘Is that what you like?’ he whispered. ‘Your butt paddled?’ Repelled but wildly excited, Chessie squirmed against him.
‘Ricky’s too straight, huh?’
