No Strings Attached (The Pink Bean Series Book 1) Page 4

  Micky had been helping out at a student union party. She was pulling beers behind the bar when this cocky guy came up to her and said, “I don’t care that you’re selling them. I’m buying you a beer.”

  “I don’t drink beer,” Micky had protested, even though she did. She just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of easily complying.

  “Then let me take you out for a nice bottle of wine. How does tomorrow evening sound?”

  Was she attracted to Robin because she was a female version of her ex-husband, despite the appalling way in which they’d met? Micky was no psychiatrist, but she reasoned that she might be looking for something familiar to hold on to.

  Micky snapped to, chasing the memory of Darren from her mind, and refocused on the blouse she had pulled from her closet. If she wanted to cancel, she would have to do so right then. Any later would make it very impolite—or perhaps more plausible that she had an emergency. Micky had two children. She always had an excuse.

  “I’m going on this date,” she said to herself, watching her lips move in the mirror. “Fuck it. I’m doing it.”

  ✶ ✶ ✶

  Robin was dressed in jeans and a white blouse with pink vertical stripes. Micky was only two minutes late, but Robin had obviously arrived a while ago because a half-empty bottle of red wine stood in front of her.

  Robin rose when she saw her and pecked Micky on the cheek.

  “Did I get the time wrong?” Micky asked.

  “Nope. I just like to arrive early.” Was that a hint of kindness in Robin’s eyes?

  Micky sat down, desperately wanting—needing—some of that wine. “What are you drinking?”

  “A heavenly Barossa Shiraz from the year 2012.” Robin seemed to know her wines. “Australian wines can be quite spectacular. Mind you, after five years in Singapore and Hong Kong, where they charge you an arm and a leg for the export bin stuff, I’m easily pleased.” She started looking around for a waiter. “Want to try?” She offered Micky her glass.

  “Er, sure.” Micky grabbed the glass and sipped gingerly. “It won’t be a hardship to have a glass of that.”

  Robin asked the waiter for an extra glass, then poured Micky a generous portion. When she held up her glass, she said, “I honestly didn’t think you’d say yes, what with the way I spoke to you that day.” She pinned her blue gaze on Micky. “Are you planning any kind of payback for that?”

  “Still contemplating it,” Micky said in a, to her surprise, flirty tone. She didn’t know she had it in her. “Still waiting for an apology as well.”

  Robin leaned over the table a little. “I’m really sorry. I could try to come up with a bunch of excuses, but there really are none for behavior like that. But, just so you know, I don’t go about my day being condescending to people. That’s not what I do at all.”

  “All right.” Micky was glad this particular patch of air was cleared between them. “What does a Diversity Manager do, anyway?”

  Robin held up a finger. “I’ll tell you all about it in a minute, but I just need to know that I’m forgiven.” She held out her glass. “Clink if I am.” She cocked her head.

  Granted, Micky didn’t have any experience at all when it came to flirting with women, but Robin was turning it on for sure.

  Micky bumped the belly of her wine glass against Robin’s. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been able to look past your blatant arrogance.”

  “Which makes you a wiser woman than me, though, to my credit, my arrogance allowed me to ask you out, so there’s that.”

  A few minutes into this date and Micky had had more fun than she’d had in the past year. There was something in the air between them; she could clearly feel it now. That’s why she had said yes and refrained from canceling. Her subconscious had known. At least, that’s how Amber would put it.

  “I just have a thing for arrogance. It’s my fatal flaw.” Micky could turn it on as well, it appeared.

  “Lucky me then.” Robin chuckled.

  A short silence fell between them. Too short to be uncomfortable. Just a little breathing room.

  “About my job,” Robin said. “I’m tasked with making sure everyone in the company gets the same chances. Not just the straight white dudes.”

  “That must be quite the challenge in the industry you’re in.” Throughout her marriage to Darren, Micky had sat through many a stiff dinner with a bunch of white dudes, all deeming themselves more important than the other, testosterone brimming in their eyes. Micky hated those dinners.

  “Let’s just say I’m the right woman for the job. It’s easier in Australia. This is supposed to be my last stop before I head back to New York. Try creating a diverse workforce in conservative Singapore and narrow-minded Hong Kong. Now that was a challenge.”

  Robin told Micky about the overprivileged wanker bankers in Hong Kong and how being a female banker there basically equaled not having a family because the work hours were crazy. The more she talked, the more fascinating Micky found her.

  “But enough about me,” Robin said after a while. “Tell me about you.”

  “My story is much less interesting, I’m afraid,” Micky said, then her phone rang. She’d completely forgotten about Amber’s promise to call. “Oh, sorry about that.” She pressed the Ignore button.

  “A friend checking up on you?” Robin had a smile on her face. She must go on plenty of dates to so swiftly conclude that.

  “Busted.” Micky smiled back, and it felt as though the combination of their smiles ignited something in her belly.

  “At least you’re not picking up. I’ll take it as a compliment.” Robin finished the last of her wine. “Shall we move on to dinner, where you can tell me all about yourself?”

  Micky nodded, not experiencing any signs of fatigue. The first leg of the date couldn’t have gone better, and she was curious what the rest of the night had in store for her.

  ✶ ✶ ✶

  Robin’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve never been with a woman.” She repeated what Micky had just hesitatingly admitted in a bit too loud a voice for Micky’s comfort. The restaurant they were at was cozy but tiny, and it was easy to overhear the other patrons.

  Micky didn’t know what to say next.

  Robin seemed to recover from the shock quite quickly. “It’s strange, because I really got the vibe off you, and well, you said yes to the date.” She bit her lip for an instant. “I take it you are interested in me, because if you think you’re not, I may have to tell you something you don’t want to hear.” She followed up with a smile Micky couldn’t immediately decipher.

  “The very fact that I’m sitting here means I’m interested,” Micky said curtly. So far, she’d enjoyed the increasingly flirty vibe between them. But now that the conversation had flowed back to this crucial fact about her, she was feeling uncomfortable again. As though she had to defend herself for the course her life had taken.

  “I was right to be intrigued by you.” Robin turned up the wattage of her smile. “It’s okay, Micky. I just wasn’t expecting it, but I can definitely work with what you’ve just told me.”

  What did that even mean? Was that some lesbian code Micky wasn’t yet privy to? Micky couldn’t possibly consider herself a lesbian. Or maybe she was a “latebian,” like the woman she’d been reading about in that magazine when Robin had started talking to her.

  “I also have two children in their teens.” Micky might as well tell it all right then, though she categorically refused to ever feel the slightest bit uncomfortable when it came to her offspring. If that was some sort of deal breaker for Robin, so be it. The date would end there and then.

  Robin just nodded, dropped her fork, and refilled their wine glasses. “Here’s how I see it,” she said after taking a long gulp. Micky hadn’t held back on downing the drinks either, and she was starting to dread the sound of her alarm clock in the morning. “You are looking for your first experience, and well, at the risk of sounding extremely blasé, though we’ve already kind o
f established that’s part of the attraction,” Robin put her hand on the table, “you’ve found the right woman for that introduction.” Her hand scooted closer to Micky’s. “I’m not looking for anything serious. I’m simply not the type. I’m looking for a good time, and I think, Micky, that you and I could have a really good time together. No strings attached.” Robin’s fingers caressed Micky’s knuckles. “What do you think?”

  Robin’s ever-so-slight touch was making Micky’s head spin. Her words didn’t really register, though Micky got the gist of them. She mainly focused on the no-strings-attached bit.

  “I will gladly be your starter woman,” Robin added, then curled her fingers around Micky’s wrist.

  There’s arrogance and then there’s this. But inside, Micky warred with her obvious attraction to Robin, and all that had just been said. Micky wasn’t exactly looking for anything serious either. She was just… looking. But could she really be coldly pragmatic about this? Because what Robin was doing, if she was reading this situation right, was blatantly propositioning her.

  “I’m going to have to think about that.” Micky bought herself some time. “Perhaps over a second date.”

  A waitress approached their table. “Can I interest you ladies in the dessert menu?” She didn’t seem to notice that Robin’s fingers were curled around Micky’s wrist, but her sudden presence made Micky break out into a cold sweat.

  Micky didn’t know if she wanted to flee the scene and process this date in tipsy solitude, or prolong it and see what would happen.

  “We’ll have a look,” Robin said, and only removed her fingers when the waitress handed them the menus.

  It was as though Micky could only then take a deep breath and try to find a little of her old self again. But there was also that instant desire to feel Robin’s hand on hers again.

  “I’m not really hungry anymore,” Micky said, looking into Robin’s eyes.

  “My place is very close. We can have a nightcap there.” Robin’s stare was unwavering.

  If Micky hadn’t been sitting, she surely would have gone weak at the knees. Was this really happening? She could hardly ask if Robin was suggesting a one-night stand, but that was how Micky was interpreting the situation. Was she even considering it? Was she that sort of person? Figuring out what kind of person she was had been part of the purpose of this date. Micky tried to conjure up Amber’s voice. She should go to the bathroom and call her, ask for her best friend’s advice. But this wasn’t up to Amber. It was high time for Micky to start making her own decisions anyway. What this particular decision boiled down to at this very moment was how attracted she was to Robin and how much she wanted to be with her.

  An undeniable amount, Micky concluded. “Okay,” she said, and sealed her fate.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  On the way to her apartment, Robin had made small talk, and Micky had nervously tried to engage in it, but so much was running through her head. If she was actually going to go through with this, she would need that nightcap.

  “Whiskey, brandy, or something sweeter?” Robin asked after escorting Micky up to her loftlike home.

  “The stronger, the better.” Micky was holding on to the back of a chair while looking around the place, but automatically, her gaze was pulled back to Robin.

  Robin smiled and took a step in her direction. “It’s perfectly normal to be nervous.” Then she leaned over and whispered in Micky’s ear, “As long as you’re also very aroused.”

  Arousal wasn’t the problem. In some shape or form, Micky had been dreaming about a moment like this for a very long time. But, perhaps, she had hoped for a bit more romance to accompany it. For it to mean something more in the end than this ever could. She remembered Amber’s words. You’re not looking for someone else to marry at this point. Micky gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

  “We can have a second date.” Robin raised her voice back to speaking level. “There’s no rush, no obligations, no expectations.” She grabbed for Micky’s hand again. “I want you to be comfortable and, more than anything, to enjoy yourself.”

  The hand grab, and how it shot an arrow of pure, unmistakable lust up Micky’s spine, made her decide. Why not have her first time with a woman be with someone as sure of herself as Robin?

  Micky reached for Robin’s neck and pulled her close. “I want you,” she said. “Forget about the drink. Take me to bed.”

  Robin put her free hand on the back of Micky’s head and kissed her on the lips.

  Despite having imagined a moment like this a million times, and for much longer than Micky felt comfortable admitting to herself, this was the first time Micky’s lips had met another woman’s in a kiss. And what a woman Robin was. There was strength in the grasp of her hands around Micky’s neck, but also tenderness.

  Micky remembered how ridiculous she believed Robin to have looked in her CrossFit socks, but realized now that, more than ridiculous, Robin had looked smoking hot. Now, Micky was about to lay eyes and hands on that smoking hot body.

  She pushed any thoughts of work, of having to get up early and the consequences of what she was doing, to the back of her mind and, finally, let loose and enjoyed the kiss.

  For Micky, that meant pressing her body against Robin’s and allowing the gentle, close-lipped pecks they’d been exchanging to turn into much more. Micky’s tongue greeted Robin’s, and when it did, she briefly opened her eyes. Perhaps to check in with herself, assess whether she really wanted this—oh yes!—or perhaps just to catch a glimpse of Robin, who had turned out to be quite a different kind of person than Micky had believed her to be based on first assumptions.

  “Come on,” Robin said, when their lips parted. She shot Micky a narrowed-eyed smile, and Micky went all warm inside.

  Micky followed Robin into the bedroom, which to Micky’s relief, was a room with actual walls. But Micky was no longer interested in decorations and interior design. She only had eyes for Robin, who was coming for her again, wrapping her hands around Micky’s neck, pulling her in.

  The kiss that followed reached Micky somewhere deep inside, in a spot that hadn’t tingled like that in years. It wasn’t just the fact that, somehow, she had full confidence in Robin and what she was doing, but even more so that Micky was standing in another woman’s bedroom, kissing her. It had been a long time coming. Even though this particular night had come out of the blue.

  Oh Christ, what was Micky doing? Why couldn’t she get her brain to shut up? She wanted to enjoy every single second of this. Her first time with a woman would only happen once.

  When they broke from the kiss, Micky took a step back.

  “Are you all right?” Robin asked. If there was any worry in her glance, it was veiled by a look of pure lust.

  Micky sighed. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little overwhelmed by the situation. This is, er, my first—”

  Robin bridged the distance between them. “You’re in good hands, Micky,” she said, then found Micky’s ear again, “even if I do say so myself.” She followed up with a short giggle. “Just relax and have a good time.” Robin stood up straight and looked Micky in the eye. “I want you too,” she said, and her voice had gone all low, the tone and desire in it connecting with Micky’s core.

  She nodded, small slow nods at first, but quickly turning them into confident ones. Micky inhaled deeply, the way Amber had taught her to do before every meeting with her divorce lawyer—in through the nose, out through the mouth.

  “I’m ready,” she said. And she was. One year after the divorce had been finalized, Micky was ready.

  Robin sank her teeth into her bottom lip and stood there, scrutinizing Micky a few moments longer, then nodded back at her. In one swift movement, without unbuttoning it, she pulled her blouse over her head and stood in front of Micky in her bra.

  Jesus. Micky had had a hint of what lay beneath—and of how amply Robin’s blouse had been filled out—but now that she came face to face with the evidence, she felt something throb between her legs.
Micky quickly came to the conclusion that yoga was no match for CrossFit—and the fact that Micky had given birth twice didn’t help with her confidence either.

  Not only could Micky actually see the outline of Robin’s abs as she stood there, with her arms on her sides, waiting for Micky to, perhaps, mirror what she had just done and start stripping, but Robin had an insanely toned set of arms on her as well. This woman was a goddess—and way out of Micky’s league, though she had no idea who would be within her divorced, mother-of-two, never-been-with-a-woman range.

  “You… are…” Micky stuttered. She was aroused, oh yes, but also too intimidated to speak, let alone pull her top over her head.

  Robin took a step toward her. “And you are beautiful,” she said, her voice serious. “And you need to get out of your head.” She kissed Micky gently on the cheek. When she started to undo the buttons of Micky’s blouse, Micky couldn’t keep her eyes off Robin’s upper arms. “Let me help you with that.” Robin slipped Micky’s blouse off her shoulders, and before Micky had the chance to even start feeling self-conscious, she ran her hands over Micky’s sides, flooding her with lust instead of self-doubt. “Let me take care of everything,” Robin continued. She unsnapped Micky’s pants next while peppering her neck with kisses, her breath hot on Micky’s skin.

  Robin easily kneeled and tugged Micky’s pants off her, getting rid of her shoes in the process. Every time Micky caught sight of Robin’s gorgeous body and tempting smile, she felt a little less self-conscious because desire was starting to get the upper hand. Micky had only waited her entire adult life for this moment. A moment she had long believed she would never experience. Besides, Micky took good care of herself and there was no use comparing the state of her body to someone who was clearly a great deal younger and a fitness fanatic.