No Strings Attached (The Pink Bean Series Book 1) (18 page)

Oh, screw it. She could just send a message now. She’d waited long enough.

Can’t sleep
, she typed.
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

She hoped that at least giving Robin a sign that she was very appreciative of her gesture would give her some peace of mind. It didn’t. She also didn’t want to fall asleep now in case Robin was suffering from insomnia as well. She lay on her side, glancing at her phone on the nightstand, waiting for it to light up with a message.

While she did, she considered how graciously Martha had taken Robin’s interruption. Micky didn’t feel too guilty about that, though, because the spark between her and Amber had been so obvious. After everyone had left, Micky had teased Amber about it, and her friend had turned beet red—to Micky’s great delight.

Just as she started dozing off, sheer exhaustion taking over, her phone lit up. Instantly, Micky was wide awake again.

Can’t sleep either. Shall I come over?

Oh God.
Yes, please
, was Micky’s first thought, but her house was a mess after the dinner party, dishes piled high in the open kitchen—not to mention how messy Micky herself looked. Additionally, the rainstorm that had started when Robin rang her bell had softened a little, but it was still pouring down outside. Micky couldn’t, in good conscience, ask Robin to make her way to her through that kind of weather again.

I’ll come to you
, she texted back.

She jumped out of bed and was reminded that she was operating on no sleep at all. But, to hell with it, she could still pull an all-nighter. As soon as she got to Robin’s, she could sink into her embrace, and fall into the most blissful sleep.
Yeah, right
.

Micky took a quick shower, but did nothing to her hair because the rain would ruin it, anyway. Then she set off into the dark, stormy night. Just walking out of her door at two in the morning was a thrill—and then there was the woman she was going to see.

✶ ✶ ✶

As soon as Micky rang the bell, Robin’s intercom buzzed. She must have been lying in wait. Micky stabbed the elevator button frantically, then when it didn’t arrive soon enough, decided to take the stairs instead.

With energy she had no idea she possessed, she rushed up the stairs to Robin’s place. The door was ajar when she got there.

Out of breath, but her entire being pulsing with adrenaline, Micky slowly pushed the door open.

Robin stood in the middle of the living room, wearing only a pair of stripy boy shorts and a very tight tank top.

The adrenaline in Micky’s body quickly turned into something fierier, more urgent. Without saying a word, she shoved the door shut behind her, not breaking eye contact with Robin, and took a few quick strides toward her.

Micky’s jacket—she hadn’t even had the presence of mind to take an umbrella—was dripping raindrops onto the floor. It was the only sound, apart from her quickening breath, in the apartment.

“There you are,” Robin said, and bridged the remaining gap between them.

She unzipped Micky’s rain jacket and just let it fall to the floor, into the small puddle it had already created.

First and foremost, Micky was overcome with lust, but it wasn’t the only emotion throbbing underneath her skin. There was relief and gratitude and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on just yet. It didn’t matter. She was there.

Robin folded her strong arms around Micky. “I know we need to talk, but can we do that tomorrow?” she whispered into Micky’s ear.

Micky nodded, her chin bumping against Robin’s shoulder. Oh, those shoulders and how her shoulder line looked in that tank top. Micky was beginning to salivate. She pressed her lips against Robin’s skin and inhaled her scent.

She felt Robin’s hands tugging at her T-shirt, starting to hoist it up. “I want you,” Robin whispered, and Micky thought she might crash to her knees.

Not as much as I want you
, Micky wanted to say, but she was just glad to hear the words. They would deal with the consequences of their desire later. Now, it was the middle of the night, and they had a lot of unfinished business to attend to.

Robin pulled Micky’s T-shirt over her head, then unsnapped her jeans button.

That’s right
.
Why waste time?
In the short time span she’d been in Robin’s apartment and in her magnetic presence, her entire being had turned into red hot desire, into fast-breathing lust. All she wanted was Robin all over her again. It was all she had wanted since Robin left her house that Sunday.

Robin pushed her jeans down while Micky tried to kick off her shoes. They were wet and stuck to her feet, but she managed in the end, and then she stood in front of Robin in just her underwear. No matter how flimsy—Micky had dressed for the occasion—it still felt like too much on her, too much fabric covering crucial parts of her.

“Come here.” Robin pulled her to her and then, at last, kissed her.

While their lips met, brazen and wide from the get-go, Robin’s hands were all over Micky’s body, and Micky wasn’t shy herself. She pressed her fingertips into Robin’s strong biceps, let herself get carried away by the firmness of her body, not caring one bit about how her own looked in comparison. Because Robin had come to her, had chosen her.

While their lips remained glued together, and their tongues danced with each other, Robin spun Micky around and walked her backward until her back touched the wall.

Robin quickly proceeded, while keeping her lips glued to Micky’s, to bring her hands between Micky’s back and the wall to unsnap her bra. This made Micky wonder about the point of bothering to wear sexy lingerie if it was going to come off so swiftly—a course of action she very much agreed with. Besides, Robin’s shorts and tank top were so much hotter, although, again, Micky just wanted to rip them off her. So she did.

Their lips broke apart, and Micky reached for Robin’s top. Robin lifted up her arms, and Micky pulled it over her head, not as smoothly as she would have wanted to, because the garment was tight and its fabric not very stretchy. But then, Robin’s glorious breasts were unveiled to her once again. Micky felt her panties go even damper. Before Robin, Micky had gone without the sensual touch of another human being for years, and look at what the effect of two weeks without Robin was having on her now. Her clit was pounding, her nipples were rock hard, her entire body was aching to be covered by all of Robin.

“Turn around,” Robin whispered.

Micky cocked her head, not quite sure what Robin meant. Besides, if she faced the wall, she wouldn’t have her eyes on Robin’s chest anymore, and where was the fun in that?

“Go on.” Robin put her hands on Micky’s waist and coaxed her until Micky swiveled around. Micky had to be honest with herself. If Robin asked her to fly to the moon right then, she probably would—as long as the reward was Robin’s fingers buried deep in her pussy afterward.

Micky planted her hands against the wall and, as soon as she felt Robin’s hands on her back, closed her eyes. Robin’s fingers trailed down the skin of her back, along the waistband of her panties, which must be fully drenched by now. Robin hooked a finger underneath and, slowly, pulled the panties down Micky’s behind and legs. Micky stepped out of them, and finally, she was freed of all constraints. She spread her legs and took a deep breath. She was more than ready for whatever Robin had in store for her. Admittedly, not being able to see what Robin was doing, or being able to gauge her next move, was arousing.

A trickle of wetness escaped from Micky’s nether lips. This must be the wettest she’d ever been in her life. Now Robin pressed her firm breasts against Micky’s back and her lips touched down on her neck, then her right shoulder. Meanwhile, Robin’s hands fluttered down her sides, over her belly, skimmed along her pubic hair.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Robin whispered in her ear, then she let her teeth sink into Micky’s earlobe. “The more I tried to ignore your existence, the more I wanted you.”

To Micky, hearing these words had the same effect as having two fingers slipped inside her wet and wanting pussy. Robin’s fingertips skirting her skin and her lips hovering around her ear and neck felt like tiny shocks of electricity being administered. A sensation Micky wanted more of, though there was something else she wanted even more. Then, completely free of inhibitions and whatever logic, faulty or otherwise, had stopped her from doing so, Micky spoke the words that were at the forefront of her mind.

“Fuck me,” she said. “Oh, please, fuck me.”

Robin gave a breathy chuckle in her ear. “Oh, I will, Micky. I will.” Her hands meandered along Micky’s back, to her buttocks, where they traced along Micky’s skin in the lightest of touches.

More juices slid down Micky’s inner thighs. She’d be creating a puddle on the floor soon, like her wet jacket had done earlier. Extreme wetness really was the theme of this night.

Robin’s fingers had reached Micky’s inner thighs now. They trailed upward, and Micky braced herself, but the fingers kept caressing instead of going where Micky so desperately wanted them. In that moment, it felt like she had been waiting for Robin’s fingers to enter her for as long as she could remember. She was done waiting. She turned around, pushing Robin away from her in the process, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her close again.

“Please,” she begged. “I need you now.”

Robin’s glance went soft. She brought her face so close to Micky’s, their noses almost touched. She shook her hand free from Micky’s grasp and, without taking her eyes off Micky, brought her hand where Micky had wanted it all along—or at least for the past two weeks, which seemed to have been condensed into this moment.

This time, when Micky braced herself, Robin’s fingers did enter. Slowly, stretching Micky wide. She was filled with Robin. Her dream was coming true.

Micky brought one hand to the back of Robin’s head and the other to one of her breasts. This was beyond any dreams she’d dared to have. Was this even really happening? But, oh, yes, Robin’s fingers delved a little deeper, and her blue eyes were still gazing at Micky.

Micky’s breath was already faltering, stopping and starting in short gusts. Robin’s fingers inside of her were really all she needed ever again. And the feel of her breast in her hand. And those beautiful eyes on her.

Robin’s serious expression changed into a slight smile—one that said she knew exactly what she was doing
and
what Micky wanted. To have a woman like Robin doing this to her. No matter how nice Martha was and how much they had in common, Micky had, on some level, known it would never work unless she’d had a few months to get over Robin first. Because Robin did something to her. This wasn’t just the effect the first woman she’d ever slept with was having on her. This was Robin. The combination of them together.

Robin’s fingers found a spot inside of her that seemed to make all of Micky’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt. All the desire she’d kept bottled up for the past two weeks came crashing through her flesh, pooled between her legs, clamped itself around Robin’s fingers.

And if Micky had one thought flitting through her mind in that moment when Robin fucked her so deliciously, so knowingly, as though it was all she’d ever done in her life, it was that this wasn’t just an orgasm, it was a reunion. There was no way that, after this, Micky wouldn’t let her feelings be known down to the tiniest detail.

“Oh God,” she moaned, holding on to the wall for support, while the heat spread through her flesh.

When Micky’s eyes fluttered open, she was greeted by Robin’s wide smile.

“Worth a midnight trip through the pouring rain?” Robin asked.

The climax seemed to have taken the last of Micky’s energy. She just nodded, mirroring Robin’s smile.

“Come to bed with me,” Robin said. “I presume you’re sleeping over.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

When Micky woke up, she was alone in bed. She looked for the alarm clock. It was ten thirty-two. She sank back into the pillows, perking up her ears for a sign of Robin, but all was quiet.

What a night she’d had. The dinner party, followed by Robin ringing her bell, and then coming over here. She thought about Amber and Martha. And about what Kristin and Sheryl must think of her now. And whether Darren would be shocked if he found out. And about Christopher and Olivia, who now had a mother who fled the house in the middle of the night to have sex with another woman. All the conversations she still needed to have. But then her mind drifted back to Robin, to her blue eyes and the smile on her face and how, with the lightest touch of her finger, she could make Micky go all liquid inside.

Micky hadn’t fallen in love since Darren. She’d all but forgotten what it felt like. She remembered now. Michaela Ferro had gone and fallen head-over-heels in love with another woman. And, by the look of things, Robin was headed in the same direction.

She heard the front door fall into the lock. Some stumbling in the living room. Then Robin came into the bedroom, her hair wet, her skin scrubbed clean, with a Pink Bean carrying tray containing two cups. “You’re up. Great,” she said. “I thought you might like this.”

Micky chuckled. “I can’t believe you went to The Pink Bean.”

“Where else am I going to go?” She sat down on the bed and handed Micky a cup. “You didn’t stir one bit this morning. At one point, I actually put my hand on your chest to check if your heart was still beating.”

“You exhausted me.”

“It must have been all that cooking you did beforehand.” Robin scooted a little closer. “I’m so sorry for crashing your party.”

“You do, indeed, look extremely apologetic.” A rush of happiness shot up Micky’s spine. She could easily imagine waking up like this every Sunday. Well, every other Sunday, perhaps.

“I did my very best to express exactly how sorry I was last night. Wouldn’t you agree?” Robin wiggled her eyebrows.

“Wholeheartedly.” Micky broke out into a smile. “Thank you for coming over like that. Truth be told, I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Oh, is that why you had a bunch of lesbians at your house last night?” Robin blew cold air onto the froth of her cappuccino.