The Hook Up

~one~

For the tenth time, Ginny wondered why she was going to this wedding, after all, the bride was her ex-boyfriend's little sister, and Ginny had known her when she was like, thirteen, fourteen. But when Ginny's arch enemy Romilda had run into Ginny in the city and explained she and her friends were on a hunt for the perfect dress, and Romilda had taken the chance to dig the knife in about Ginny and Michael's failed relationship, Ginny had smiled through gritted teeth as she shot death glares at Romilda; after all, Ginny had stumbled across Romilda and Michael in bed together, hence the reason for the breakup.

That had been eight months ago, and Ginny had rarely dated since. Oh, not that she was pining for Michael, hell no – cheating scumbag – but there was just the hassle of meeting someone, then dating, getting to know each other before they fell into that comfortable stage of a relationship. Of course, she did like the thrill of having sex with somebody new, how they would turn her on, and discovering what turned him on, the thrill of a new touch, new smells, new tastes and new intimacy.

But surprisingly, she'd gone on few dates after Michael, and found she had no interest in sleeping with any of them. But when the unexpected wedding invitation had arrived, and her brother Ron had commented that he'd heard a wedding was a perfect place to hook up, sex had been on her mind more than ever and she justified that it was time.

She had determined she was going to go to the damn wedding and meet some guy and take him back to her flat– ignoring her mother's voice in her head calling her a scarlet woman – they would have sex and she'd get her mojo back. Now, she just needed the right armour.

She'd dragged her childhood best friend Leanne with her. Leanne, who had found crystals and aromatherapy a couple of years ago and asked to now be called Luna, had agreed to come with her to find the perfect outfit. Ginny had booked in to have a mani/pedi, and to get her hair and make-up done on the day of the wedding. She was going all out to show Michael just what he'd missed out on, and to cast her net and lure a lover in.

.

She and Luna had met for a quick drink before hitting the shops, where Ginny had explained the situation and Luna had been supportive as always, although she did seem to feel that her period of abstinence could be good for her soul.

"You must stay true to yourself, Ginny," advised Luna dreamily. "Ask your conscience for all the answers. Either learn to channelize your sexual energy or expend it wisely. If you are simply trying to curb it you will only experience frustration. You are a sexual being, Ginny, and whoever your future partner, they are extremely lucky."

"Damn right they are," snorted Ginny an hour later, wriggling to squeeze a black dress over her hips. Luna was waiting outside to give her opinion, along with the three others she had already tried on and discarded, and the five she still had to go.

With relief she did the zipper up and turned to look in the mirror, plumping her breasts up. "Oh yeah," she said, liking what she saw in the reflection. "Luna, I'm coming out."

She undid the door as she was holding up her arm, trying to see the price tag. "I think this is it, Luna. If I can't get laid in this dress, then I might just as well go naked." She grabbed the price tag and looked at it, only then becoming aware of the silence.

She looked up, seeing, not Luna, but a man with messy black hair and emerald-like eyes, staring wide eyed at her chest.

"You're not Luna," she blurted out.

He eyed her up and down, eyes drawn back to her plumped up chest – perve – and finally met her eyes.

"Baby, in that dress, you can call me anything you want," he told her.