No Strings Attached (The Pink Bean Series Book 1) Read online

  If Micky was going to take a breath, she would use that moment to drink in Robin’s glorious face. Her blue eyes, her long lips, her hair tied back in a ponytail, leaving her shoulders free to be ogled. Micky didn’t know what she had done in a previous life to have landed in bed with someone like Robin in this one. She didn’t care, didn’t believe in any of that, though the thought had crossed her mind. All she cared about was feeling those toned muscles twitch underneath her, Robin’s flesh yielding to her touch. Micky had dreamed of this moment for ten days. It had been ten days since she’d woken up next to Robin and had had to dash out of her apartment. Ten days of pent-up desire, followed by spending a few hours next to a bikini-clad Robin on the beach. What had Sheryl and Kristin called it? Lesbian puberty? Oh yes, Micky was certainly in the throes of that.

  Then, at last, Robin tugged her tank top over her head, wiggled out of her shorts.

  Micky took it as a sign that she could now unsnap her bikini top. She tossed it to the floor with reckless abandon, as though the bikini coming off was the sign for her desire to unleash completely. She stepped out of her bikini bottoms and approached Robin, giving her an eager hand until they were both completely undressed. Micky dragged her onto the bed, wanted to feel the weight of Robin’s naked body on top of her, wanted to revel in it.

  Micky threw her arms around Robin, drew her near, their lips and tongue meeting at an increasingly frantic pace. All the desire Micky had had to keep inside came rushing to the surface. Ten days of foreplay. Micky hadn’t dared call it that in her head, but now she realized that’s what it had been. Was it going to be like this every week? Oh, fuck it, she didn’t have time to think of that. Robin was pressing a deliciously smooth knee between her legs, against her naked sex, and Micky responded by slanting her entire body in the direction of that knee.

  Micky’s hands groped hungrily and greedily. She brought one of them between their writhing bodies and grabbed for one of Robin’s magnificent breasts. The other, more daring, scooted down in search of Robin’s wetness.

  Robin kissed her lips, neck, lips again, her mouth now drifting to Micky’s ear, and gently planted her teeth into Micky’s earlobe. Then she pushed herself away from Micky for an instant, allowing them both to catch a breath. A wicked grin crept along her face. Micky couldn’t wait to find out what it meant. Robin pushed herself all the way up until she sat on her haunches and then, in one swift motion, turned herself around, straddling Micky and backing up to her, bum-first.

  Oh Christ.

  Robin’s strong body moved swiftly and lightly along Micky’s, until her pussy was—and there really was no other way to describe it—in Micky’s face. Micky could only conclude that Robin had read her eagerness, because how could it not have come across loud and clear? Now there she lay, trapped underneath Robin, staring straight at her most intimate parts.

  Unafraid, and overtaken by a new level of lust, Micky brought her hands to Robin’s ass cheeks, let her nails dig into the soft flesh of them while, tentatively at first, her tongue darted out of her mouth and found Robin’s pussy.

  Just as her tongue made contact, she felt Robin’s tongue between her own legs. Micky’s legs stiffened for an instant, her body adjusting to the overload of sensuality being bestowed upon it. But this was exactly what she wanted. All of it. Her tongue on Robin while Robin’s explored her. It made Micky bolder, made her insert her tongue deeper, with more strength and intention. She licked along Robin’s wet, wet lips, sucked them into her mouth, lapped at her lover’s pussy as if there was no tomorrow.

  The double action of licking Robin and being licked by her at the same time made Micky ready to be tipped over the edge any second now. The smoldering sensation beneath her skin was quickly turning into full-blown fireworks, and she had more and more trouble focusing her tongue on the task at hand. Then, Robin brought a finger into the mix. She pushed into Micky slowly but steadily, and despite Micky’s desire for Robin to feel the exact same thing as she was in that divine moment, she soon lost all her focus to the obliterating, inevitable orgasm coursing through her, claiming her. Her head fell back into the pillow, while Robin fucked and licked her, and everything went black in Micky’s brain for an instant, followed by a bright explosion of pure whiteness.

  When she came to, Robin’s pussy was no longer offered to Micky the way it had been before. Instead, Robin had swiftly pirouetted back to face Micky and now sat straddling Micky’s belly.

  “What the hell are you doing to me?” Micky stammered, not even having the wherewithal to feel self-conscious about asking such a silly question. Because it was clear what Robin was doing to her. She was making great strides in the conquest of Micky’s body—and heart.

  Robin didn’t reply. Just smiled down at Micky, scooted closer—Micky could feel the wetness of her pussy leaving a trail on her belly, then her breasts—until her pussy was wholly on offer once again.

  I’m covered in woman. She dug her nails into Robin’s backside and pulled her as close as she possibly could without losing the ability to breathe. She delved her tongue into Robin’s pussy and continued where she’d left off before the orgasm had swept through her. When she opened her eyes for an instant, she had a clear view of Robin’s perky breasts and, beyond them, of her exposed neck while she threw her head back in, what Micky hoped, was burgeoning ecstasy.

  Micky gave it all she had. She alternated applying pressure with her tongue and bestowing the lightest of flicks on Robin’s clit and, meanwhile, relished how Robin’s body squirmed on top of hers. Micky was basically trapped between Robin’s thighs and, though she’d never envisioned an exact scenario like this one, took great delight in it. Then she remembered the effect the addition of a finger to the action had had on her earlier. She wiggled an arm underneath Robin’s thigh, pulled her mouth back from that intoxicating pussy for an instant, and plunged a finger inside Robin’s hot, moist depths.

  “Oh God,” Robin exclaimed. “Oh yes.”

  A brand new source of fire ignited under Micky’s skin. The receiving and the giving, the endless cycle of it made her curl her toes in anticipation as well. They had all night to repeat this, over and over again. And tomorrow was Sunday.

  As Robin’s thighs clamped themselves around Micky’s head almost savagely, a rush of happiness burrowed itself through her flesh. All it took was for Micky to be wholly covered in woman to experience this kind of freeing satisfaction.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  After Robin had so brazenly come to sit on Micky’s face, changing Micky’s perception of herself a little more once again, they took a shower and went out to dinner. Micky didn’t remember much of dinner because her brain was so filled to the brim with all things Robin—her fingers, her wet sex, her wicked grin—that it seemed as though there was no room left in her short-term memory to store new impressions.

  After dinner, there was a moment where, in hindsight, the perfect day they had spent together could have gone awry, when Micky saw a flicker of hesitation creep along Robin’s features when she asked if she was coming back home with her to spend the night.

  In the end, after a brief moment of having to think about it, Robin said, “Why the hell not?” and they walked to Micky’s house together. The only reason Micky didn’t grab Robin’s hand on the short walk was not because she didn’t want to be seen holding another woman’s hand in her new neighborhood, but because she didn’t know if holding hands in public was within the boundaries of their friends-with-benefits arrangement.

  They had tried to watch the news on TV, but Robin’s proximity, and the fact that they had the house all to themselves, made Micky unable to focus. She couldn’t keep her hands off Robin, was always touching at least one fingertip to her skin.

  “Do you want to talk?” Robin asked at one point, but Micky just shook her head.

  She’d never been the kind of girl to indulge in drugs, even a joint had always been too much for her non-smoker lungs, but she imagined this was what it felt like to lose cont
rol of her faculties. To have dopamine rush after dopamine rush cloud the working of the brain and reduce a person to a recurrent pleasure-seeker. But just for tonight, Micky didn’t care. Her brain might be fogged over with lust and dreaminess and foreign-to-her chemical processes, somewhere in the back of it, the realization did sit that she would be worrying about all of this later. About the consequences of this day on her life. That’s why, on this Saturday evening, and well into the night, until the moment Robin would kiss her good-bye, Micky would allow herself all the indulgence she had denied herself for years.

  Micky kneeled between Robin’s legs downstairs in the living room sofa. Afterward, Robin pushed her against her bedroom door when they went up to sleep. Micky was so exhausted, her body too drained to leave any energy for her mind to worry, that she slept so deeply and late that the sun was already streaming through the windows when she woke up.

  To her instant relief, because in the brief instant between opening her eyes and turning her body to look she’d feared the worst, Robin was still there. She lay curled into a ball with her back to Micky, hogging most of the sheet.

  Micky fell back onto the mattress, letting all the memories of the day before flood her brain. How could she possibly resume her life after a day like that? How could she face her children? She was lucky they were both in a phase of their teenage years that had them mainly focused on themselves. Perhaps they wouldn’t notice how, overnight, Micky had changed.

  And there was that word again: lesbian. Micky figured she had moved quite a bit on the spectrum in the space of one day. Even if she hadn’t reached full-blown lesbianism on the scale just yet, she’d at least engaged in some very lesbian activity. And she had enjoyed every single second of it. But this morning, in the clear light of day, she would have to face the consequences. She would need Amber. But, perhaps, before all of that… She turned on her side and ran a finger over Robin’s magnificent back. Even from this point of view, she was beautiful. Irresistible.

  Micky remembered those nights in college when she would drink so much that, the next day when she woke up after a few hours of sleep, she’d still feel intoxicated. That was how she felt now. She wasn’t silly enough to think that this was love, but Micky was surely—unequivocally—in lust.

  Robin stirred and rolled onto her back, displaying her ample chest to Micky’s gaze. There was no more doubt in Micky’s mind that they were real. After two pregnancies, Micky’s own breasts, compared to Robin’s, looked a little sad, but instead of comparing herself to Robin’s younger, worked-out body, Micky had told herself to enjoy it. After all, Robin had repeatedly said that she would be leaving Sydney at the end of the year. Micky had to take full advantage of the time she was there, and she would worry about the shape of her own body later, once Robin had left.

  What an excruciating thought. Robin leaving.

  “Morning.” Robin opened her eyes and stretched her arms over her head.

  “Hey.” When she looked into Robin’s sleep-crusted eyes like that, Micky did, for a split second, wonder if she’d only fallen in lust. If this wasn’t more already. But how could it be? If it was, then she was just projecting or it was some other psychological trick her brain was playing on her. People in puberty fell in love in a flash. That was what was happening to her. Lesbian puberty.

  “What time is it?” Robin grabbed Micky’s hand.

  “A bit after ten.”

  “No CrossFit again for me today. You’re ruining my fitness.” Robin smiled while lifting both their hands in the space between them.

  “You’re improving mine.” Micky’s heart flooded with a strange sensation. What could possibly be more heavenly than to wake up next to another woman on a Sunday morning?

  “What are you doing today?” Robin kept playing with Micky’s hand.

  “Not much. Possibly meet up with Amber.”

  “What would you do if I weren’t here?”

  “Exactly the same, plus feel sorry for myself because you weren’t here.” Micky didn’t stop the impulse to press a kiss to Robin’s cheek. Granted, she didn’t know much about the whole friends-with-benefits thing, but she knew this was not it. This scene, in her bedroom on a glorious Sunday morning, was not one of a couple of friends having just spent the night together and happily, freely, and with a few friendly orgasms in their pockets, going on their way, continuing their lives as though this had no impact on their souls.

  “Well, I’m here so no need to feel sorry for yourself.” When Robin smiled, the first pinch of dread settled in Micky’s stomach. Already, she was feeling anxious about the moment Robin would leave, when they would say good-bye—awkwardly, most likely, because Micky wouldn’t know what to say.

  “Do you want to make another friend?” she asked. “You met Amber briefly at The Pink Bean last week. I’m pretty sure she would love to get to know you better.”

  “Because I’m fucking her best friend?” Robin trapped Micky’s hand between hers and the spot just below her naked breast.

  “Well, yes, if you put it like that.” Speaking of fucking.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Yesterday and last night were great fun.” Robin gave Micky’s hand a little squeeze. “But maybe we should talk instead of being formally introduced to friends.”

  Micky remembered Robin asking her if she wanted to talk last night, but talk had been the very last thing on her mind. It still was now, but for a different reason. Any conversation they would have now would ruin the spell she was under, these blissful moments of complete ignorance, of being another, brand new version of Michaela Ferro. Moreover, Micky knew she needed to have the conversation, lest she lose control over her feelings even more. Her lusty brain had to be put in its place—but the renewed throbbing between her legs wasn’t helping.

  “What do you want to talk about?” Micky’s voice sounded too petulant to her liking, but she couldn’t take back the tone she’d said the words in.

  “I know that yesterday I said there were no rules, but for this to work, I think we will need some, anyway.”

  “Why can’t it just be what it is, without having to say it’s this or that? Why can’t we just enjoy each other’s company?” Micky withdrew her hand from Robin’s grasp and let herself fall onto her back.

  “To avoid exactly what is happening now.” Robin pushed herself up on an elbow. “I’ve told you…”

  “Yes, yes, I know. You don’t do relationships, and you’re leaving at the end of the year.” It’s only March, Micky wanted to add, with great emphasis.

  “I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us.” Robin’s voice was kind, as were her eyes on Micky.

  “What rules would you even have?” Micky was the one who grabbed for Robin’s hand now. She needed to feel her touch, feel connected to her. “In all these years you’ve lived abroad, have you never… fallen in love?”

  “I have, Micky, and then I had to leave. That’s why I can’t let it happen again.”

  “How do you even do that? It’s not as if it’s an emotion you can just turn off.”

  “By having rules and being vigilant.”

  Micky shook her head. “But I want to fall in love. By God, I want it so much. I want to feel what I felt with you last night again and again. I don’t want to be vigilant and have rules about how I’m allowed to feel. I’m too old for that. I’ve wasted too much time. I just want to live and try to be happy. Now that we’re having this talk, I’m not interested in being friends with benefits either. I think it’s a ridiculous concept." Micky looked away from Robin. She could feel her pulse in her throat, throbbing like crazy, as though rooting for her after what she’d just said.

  Next to her, Robin sighed. “Then I only have one choice,” she said. “I need to take a step back.”

  Micky wasn’t done. She imagined all the words that were spilling out of her right now having piled up in her brain over the past twenty-four hours. Shoved to the side, deemed inappropriate for the moment, until the
y were too many and came bursting out.

  “Why? Why are you like this, Robin? You claim you just want to have fun, yet you suck the fun right out of it with your talk of rules and vigilance. How can you live like that?”

  “Because…” Robin pursed her lips together. “I don’t want there to be an imbalance between us. I don’t want you to feel more for me than I can give back and vice versa.”

  “What does that even mean?” Micky sat up straighter.

  “I’ll tell you what it means. And I know you’ll know what I’m talking about.” Robin fixed her gaze on Micky. “I know because there’s something between us. Something different. Something that, if we don’t pay attention, will turn into much more than the spark it is now.”

  “But isn’t that just the most wonderful thing about it?” Micky threw her hands up in exasperation. Of course, she knew what Robin was trying to say, but she did not want to hear those words. “Look.” She placed a hand on Robin’s thigh. “I just celebrated the one-year anniversary of my divorce. I loved my husband, but I would be lying if I said we had a speck of passion left for the past… ten years. There was nothing. Nada. Zilch. Then I met you, and you reintroduced me to what passion really feels like. As though all the passion I had missed out on during the last decade of my life had been compressed in the little time I’ve spent with you. And yes, that’s going to have an impact on me, is going to leave me feeling like a hormonal lesbian-in-puberty, but fuck it, Robin, this”—she pointed at the two of them with widespread fingers—“is exactly what I want. I couldn’t have dreamed of it, but now that I’ve experienced it, I know it’s what I want.”

  “I can’t give you what you want.” Robin’s voice didn’t have a lot of smile left in it.

  “But you’ve already given it to me.” That pinch of dread in Micky’s stomach was quickly turning into a vise grip of despair around her heart.

  “Then it looks like I will have to take it back.” Robin just sat there motionless, making Micky believe she still had a chance to convince her otherwise.