No Strings Attached(55)

“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.

“What else was I going to do?” Micky put her coffee, which was still too hot to drink, on the nightstand next to her and shuffled closer to Robin.

“You could have waited for me to show up at your door in heartbreaking solitude.” Robin disposed of her cup as well.

“And you could have texted me back.” Micky sat close enough to Robin to inhale her freshly showered scent.

“You were the one who told me you’d met someone, remember?” Robin fixed her with a stare.

“I did meet someone. She was at my house last night. But all I could think of was you.”

“Poor woman,” Robin said, “though I don’t feel that sorry for her.”

“I think Amber will be there to pick up the pieces.”

“Really?” Robin tipped her head and leaned in a little closer.

“I’ll tell you all about it later.” Micky kissed her on the cheek, then fully on the lips. They had all day to talk—and kiss, and make love.

✶ ✶ ✶

Later, over a late lunch of pizza and wine in the middle of the afternoon, Micky couldn’t stop gazing into Robin’s eyes. They had a lot of things to talk about, but Micky was content just sitting there with Robin, and having the pleasure of being able to look at her as much as she wanted. There was one question burning in her mind, though. Not one she had any right to ask, but she was dying to know the answer to.

She cleared her throat, drank some wine, then spoke. “Did you, er, sleep with anyone else in the past two weeks?”

Robin drew her lips into a grin. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you know, you don’t do relationships and such, and… you must get propositioned a lot.”

“Propositioned?” Robin huffed out a chuckle. “Do you get propositioned a lot?”