The Adulterer's Unofficial Guide to Family Vacations, A Novel by Leslie Langtry Page B

was obvious to them I liked sex.Now how would they know something like that?”
    “Laura, it’s in every movement you make.You’ve always been like that.”
    “You’re joking.”Was he joking?
    Alan shook his head, “No, I’m not.Men are always sniffing around for someone like you.The fact that they come on to you proves it.You’re a sex kitten in need of a good stroke.”
    “Shut Up!” I would have sprung out of my seat but I was dizzy and didn’t want to fall down.
    Alan nodded, “It’s true.Some women give off the frigid vibe, some women are teases and you, my dear, are the rare one who could give a man the ride of his life.”
    The news sunk into my thoughts.“Where do you guys come up with this stuff?”
    “I don’t know, but it’s true.” Alan drank his beer.“You just have to trust me on this.”
    “Jesus,” was all I said.If this was true, I was a veritable Pandora’s Box of sexuality.“Wait, doesn’t that make me come off a bit like a tramp?”
    He shook his head, “No, it makes everyone envy your husband.Women like you are very rare.”
    “Is Susan like me?” I regretted the words as soon as I said them.It wasn’t fair to bring up his wife.
    “No,” he said slowly, “she’s great and all, but more inhibited.”
    “I see.” I felt bad about asking.But didn’t he ask me all sorts of probing questions last night?I changed tactics.I didn’t want to compete with his wife.“How do you know you aren’t just building me up more than I deserve?”
    “Because,” his voice dropped an octave, “I’ve had you, and I remember it.And I really did have to take a cold shower last night.”
    That’s it.Right then and there, I knew that I wanted to sleep with him – even though I knew it was wrong.“You’re right.Maybe we do need a break.” I replied weakly.
     

 
    Chapter 7
     
    The dress hung in front of me, calling me every name in the book, “Harlot!Traitor!”But I wrestled the bitch off of the hanger and stepped into it.The dress really had no argument.So far on this trip, I had not lived up to either of those words, but maybe it could read my thoughts.Great.A mind-reading dress.Hester Prynne didn’t have that and she still got caught.
    While it was true I had packed this dress for a romantic evening with Mike, I had no reason not to wear it.Alan and I were just giving ourselves a well-deserved break, that’s all.Besides, I didn’t have anything else appropriate to wear for a night out.
    Studying myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but admit the dress was hot.A sleek Betsy Johnson, it had seductive spaghetti straps and a snug, black velvet bodice emblazoned with bright, embroidered flowers.The hemline had seven inches of fringe around the bottom and the sheer black matching wrap had the same.A pair of black, strappy sandals finished it off.I was definitely asking for it.
    At seven o’clock he tapped at the door and I opened it.The four children pooled together in the doorway, then flooded into his room.Alan just stood there, smiling.I’d be lying if I said I didn’t savor every second.It would also be lying to say I didn’t blush.
    “Wow,” he spoke softly, “you look fantastic!”
    “So do you!You seem to have picked up a few style tips in New York.” Alan wore a French blue button-down shirt, open at the neck, tucked into a pair of chinos.A dark jacket was folded over his shoulder and . . . were those Bruno Maglis?
    “Come on!I didn’t dress that badly back then!”He protested.
    “Listen, I conceded that your cheating on me wasn’t entirely your fault and that I never thought you were an ego maniac.But you were a lousy dresser and I’m not going to back down on that one.”
    A sharp knock at the door broke our trance.The sitter was here.Martha was a sweet lady in her sixties.I liked her immediately.
     
     
     
     
     
    “Right this way, please,” the aging hostess led us to a table in the back of Captain Steve’s.The window by the table overlooked the