Modern Girl's Guide To Vacation Flings (17 page)

Chapter 9

Modern Girl Tip #5: Don't Make It All About Sex—Hang out. Hit the bars. Watch the sun set. A fling can be more than hooking up, so have fun with it.

When Matt decided to tag along, he had expected a lot of chatting and very little exercise, but Beth wasn't kidding when she said she was serious about her workout.

After she finished a fast and hard run, she moved on to the rowing machine, then the free weights. He'd barely finished his own run before she was asking him to spot her. How she had the energy for any of it was a mystery to him.

They worked out in a comfortable silence; neither one of them felt the need to fill their time with senseless gabbing. And much to his surprise, Matt enjoyed this time with her just as much as the other times they'd spent together. Beth was like a chameleon, constantly changing her color. It was hard to keep up, but he eagerly awaited her next move.

"Wow. I needed that," she said, moving to the mats in the center of the room.

The sight of her long legs extended as she leaned into a deep stretch caused his mouth to water. He didn't realize she was quite that flexible. And now that he knew, Matt had all kinds of things he wanted to try.

Beth caught him staring. And as if she knew exactly what he'd been thinking, she proceeded to lean over, pressing her breast against her thighs, and let out a breathy moan. "That feels good. I love a good stretch after a long night."

He nearly dropped the weight he was lifting. Deciding that maybe he shouldn't handle heavy equipment while she was doing that, he put the weight back on the rack and leaned against the wall. "I didn't think you'd be up to such a hard workout after last night."

"What? Can't handle your liquor?" she teased, switching to the left leg and going deeper into the stretch.

"I don't normally drink that much, but that's not what I meant. We were up really late."

She sat up and shifted into a near split and grabbed her toes, arching her back into the stretch. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. All his blood rushed southward, making him a little light headed. He needed to sit down if she was going to continue stretching.

"I don't need much sleep. I wouldn't be this stiff, if I hadn't slept so late," she said, standing up and walking to the towel rack. After wiping the sweat from her brow, a mischievous grin lit up her face. "Really, you're to blame. You wore me out last night."

He usually wasn't driven by his urges, but around her he lost all thought of proper decorum. That playful look in her eyes had him ready to toss control out the window. They were alone. All he'd have to do is lock the door, and he could have her there on the gym floor.

"So, about tonight," she said, interrupting that little fantasy. "I'm going to one of the clubs. I'll save you a seat, if you want to come."

It wasn't exactly a warm invitation, but it was something. She was trying to keep this casual. And even though hitting a dance club was the last thing he wanted to do with her, if that's what she wanted, he was game. "I'll be there."

Tired and sporting a serious case of blue balls, he reluctantly left her and went back down to his room to shower and get ready for dinner. While he understood why she didn't want to go out to dinner alone with him, Matt was more than a little disappointed she wouldn't even be joining his family.

Things still felt a little off after their conversation. And he really hoped she hadn't changed her mind about taking their relationship to a physical level. She had said she was okay with keeping things just sexual. No strings. Hell, she'd insisted on it.

And that was just the way he wanted things. Matt hated all the drama and mixed signals that came with dating, so he couldn't figure out why he felt so out of sorts. Maybe a more relaxed setting like the club was just what they needed. Hopefully, after tonight, he'd know exactly what to expect the rest of the trip.

When he arrived for dinner that night, Bridget had to bring up his hasty departure and absence from the reception. He'd fully expected it to be the main topic of conversation, but what he hadn't expect was his mother skillfully diverting the conversation to another subject. Halfway through dinner she'd even shot him a wink, as though they'd shared some private joke. And before dessert was served, she was shoving him out the door to go meet with Beth. Not that he needed much convincing. It was obvious she wanted him to spend as much time alone with Beth as possible. And if that's what she wanted, who was he to deny her wishes?

It had only been a few hours, but Matt was anxious to get back to her. It was an odd feeling, this eagerness. He hardly knew her. Not enough to miss her. However, as he approached the nightclub area of the ship, he could feel his anticipation build and all he could think about was seeing her, touching her again.

So much so, he completely missed the change of scenery as he walked down the hall. The casually dressed passengers had all disappeared, and it felt as if he'd stepped into a time warp. A young woman with a spectacular afro and gold Lemay jump suit, that reminded him of the old James Bond golden girl, stopped him before he could enter the club.

"I'm sorry, sir. We have a strict dress code tonight. Can you dig it? But don't worry. I can help a groovy cat like you out." She then reached into a box and pulled out a white polyester blazer, holding it up to judge it's size.

Confused, all he could do is stand there while she draped the jacket over his shoulders and press a fake mustache above his lip. None of this made sense. Matt shrugged out of the jacket, sure he'd come to the wrong place. Or perhaps he was having a stroke.

"Obviously, I'm missing something here. I was just meeting a friend for drinks."

She leaned in and whispered. "It's theme night. You're going to need some kind of costume." Waving a hand down her metallic clad body, she smiled. "Just put on the jacket. Trust me, you'll have fun." Before he could question further she waved him into the club. "Catch you on the flip-side."

And just like that, Ms. Goldfinger was helping some other lost soul into a suede fringed vest with a large smiley face button. Not sure what else he could do, Matt wandered into the club. The house lights were up and he was able to find Beth sitting at a table on the edge of the empty dance floor.

Unlike him, she'd come prepared for the nights theme. She looked every bit the seventies flower child. Her straight black hair was parted right down the center with a white daisy tucked behind her ear. The raven tresses were held back with a leather strap across her forehead. But it was her dress that really completed the look. He thought the long sleeved frock was perfect for the seventies, but it wasn't until she stood up to waved him over that he got the full impact. The sight was so unexpected, Matt stopped dead in the middle of the dance floor.

The dress she wore was a riot of colors and fit so tight, it looked as though it were painted on. And it was so short, if she moved much everyone in the club would be well acquainted with what she had on under that skirt. On the one hand he wanted to cover her with the tacky white jacket he'd been given, but on a more base level, he, too, wanted to become better acquainted with what lay under that dress.

When he didn't immediately join her, she rolled her eyes and trotted across the floor in her bright yellow go-go boots to collect him.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up." She gave him an assessing look. Without warning she leaned in and kissed him. Laughing, she rubbed her nose across his fake mustache. A huge smile broke out across her face and her eyes crinkled around. "Nice 'stache by the way."

"Did you know about this?" he asked, waving his hand around the room. Everyone was dressed in various degrees of authenticity. Some, like him, only had hints of period attire. While others were so true to the time, they could have just stepped out of a time machine.

"It's just a theme party," she said with a laugh and trotted back to the table.

Matt followed her, feeling as though he'd stepped into an alternate dimension. "Where did you get that outfit?"

She shrugged, shaking her head, as if he'd just asked a stupid question. "I packed it."

"Why? I don't understand. That dress is extremely specific. It's not something you'd normally wear. Is it?"

"God no, I found it at a consignment shop back home. But tell me the truth, I rock the whole flower child thing, right?" She stood up and did an impromptu catwalk, complete with dramatic pose. She stopped just a few feet from the table, and shot him a suggestive look over her shoulder with a wink.

The motion caused the skirt to rise a fraction, and Matt's mouth went dry. She was definitely rocking that outfit. And those fucking boots. He was getting hard imagining her legs wrapped around him in nothing but those boots.

When she reached the table, her eyes were alight with laughter. "I wish I'd brought my camera. You should see your face."

"I don't think you realize how you look in that dress," he said, adjusting his position. He really hoped she didn't want to dance tonight, because Matt wasn't sure he'd be able to touch her without doing something that would embarrass them both. Shaking his head to clear the image, Matt focused back on the conversation. "You didn't answer my question. Why would you pack a costume?"

"It's not a costume. Well, not really. There's a great disco in Barcelona my cousin Ana promised to take me to. I thought it might be something fun to do while I'm there. Something, I usually don't have time for. The dress and boots were for the club. I had some help with the rest. When Palo told me about the theme nights, he helped me with hair and accessories. The staff has this huge box of stuff for people to use. Which is where I'm guessing that hideous jacket came from."

"Palo?" Hearing her talk about another man filled him with unexpected jealousy, not that she owed him any explanation.

"He's someone I met on the ship. He works for the cruise line," she said and gave him a once over. "I'm sure he could find something better for you to wear next time. That is if you want to come to the next theme night. Personally, I'm going to skip the country western night, but I'll definitely be back for punk night."

"Theme nights?" He was beginning to feel like he'd walked into the middle of a movie and everyone but him knew what was going on.

"Yes, theme nights. Didn't you read any of the cruise information in your room?"

No, he hadn't. But then again, he had planned on working when his family didn't have some group thing planned, so he didn't see the need. Matt looked around the room one more time and was about to ask Beth exactly what they'd be doing tonight when the golden clad girl took center stage.

"All right my groovy cats. My name's Crystal and I'll be your host tonight. We've dialed things back to the seventies. Now let's get ready for some fun and start the night off with a little game of
Name That Tune
. You'll hear a few notes from a popular seventies song and the first team to buzz in with the correct answer wins a point. I just need a few volunteers to act as team captains."

Great a stupid trivia game. He'd spent the last few days avoiding this kind of annoying cruise activity, and he didn't feel like starting now. If they left before the game started, maybe they could catch a late show or even better, head back to his cabin.

"Why don't we go someplace quieter?"

Before he could even make the suggestion, Beth had jumped up and volunteered to be a team captain.

Matt was adorable. He was fidgeting like a virgin on prom night. He kept pulling on the polyester jacket and eyeing the exit as if he were ready to bolt any minute. His obvious discomfort was almost charming, and Beth thought about leaving to give him a reprieve.

But after what happened at the reception and their talk that afternoon, she realized that, while a week of pretend and some hot sex was just what she was looking for, getting too wrapped up in his in his life could be dangerous. She was on vacation, and that meant fun and relaxation. If he wanted to see more of her, then he would have to do it on her terms.

Sure, maybe she could have warned him about the theme night, but it would have given him an excuse to skip the whole thing. She wanted him to be able to see the real her and not the pretend woman she'd been these last few days. She just needed to have a little fun with him that didn't involve pretending.