Page 23 of Robbin’ the Rich

Both of his hands gripped my hips and pressed me down as he grunted and I felt him pulse inside of me.

I fell to his side. “Fuck. That was so good.”

He slid his hand into mine, and a foreign emotion began to swirl somewhere deep in my chest.

“Yeah, Robin, that was more than good.”

As I lay there panting, holding this man’s hand, I couldn’t help but think I didn’t usually let hookups stay. That wasn’t me being cold exactly, just practical.

One-night stands were easier when they stayed neatly contained. A fun night with good sex, maybe a number exchange if the vibes were strong. Then everybody returned to their regularly scheduled lives without awkward breakfast conversations or emotional complications. Which was why I fully expected the hot priest to leave after we finished completely rearranging each other’s nervous systems.

Instead, Micah kissed me softly one more time before climbing out of bed and disappearing down the hallway.

I blinked after him, still pleasantly dazed and boneless against the mattress.

A minute later he returned wearing only boxers and carrying a glass of water and a granola bar

I stared at him.

Micah looked suddenly nervous beneath my silence. “Uh. Post-sex care package?”

My chest did something deeply inconvenient.

“You brought me a snack?”

“You did some pretty amazing work. I thought you might be hungry.”

I laughed softly before I could stop myself. When I’d had the occasional hook up with a man, it didn’t usually end in aftercare. There was typically an unspoken rush afterward. People trying to pretend intimacy hadn’t happened while scrambling back into clothes and checking phones.

Micah just... took care of me automatically, like it never occurred to him not to.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, setting everything on the nightstand before sliding carefully back into bed beside me.

“Yeah,” I said honestly. “Just surprised.”

“Bad surprised?”

“No.” I looked over at him. “Actually, a very good surprised.”

That earned me a sleepy smile. God. That smile was going to become a problem.

I drank some water while Micah settled against the pillows beside me, blonde hair messy from my hands, and his mouth still slightly swollen from kissing. My brain immediately supplied several unhelpful memories from earlier.

“You’re thinking loudly again,” he murmured.

“I’m deciding if you’re secretly running an elaborate scam.”

“Oh no. You discovered my evil plan.”

“To what? Emotionally support me?”

“Exactly. Very sinister.”

I chuckled quietly and set the water down.

The room had gone soft around us somehow. Rain tapped lightly against the windows while the apartment settled into deep nighttime quiet. And unexpectedly… I didn’t want him to leave. After hookups, I wanted space again almost immediately, my own bed, my own routine, safe distance.

But Micah’s warmth beside me felt easy. My body had relaxed around him without asking permission first. He shifted closer carefully, like he was giving me room to change my mind. I curled toward him instinctively. Micah’s arm slid around my waist slowly before he pressed a soft kiss against the top of my head. The tenderness of it nearly hurt. I stared at the dark room for a long second while his fingers traced lazily against my side.