4. Micah
MICAH
The closer we got to Robin’s apartment, the more the stage-confidence adrenaline started wearing off. Which was deeply inconvenient, because ten minutes ago, I’d been onstage flirting with her through an amplifier feeling smooth and charming and generally in control of my life.
Now?
Now I was driving through quiet streets at midnight realizing I was about to go home with the woman I’d been low-key obsessed with for months.
They were different emotional experiences entirely.
Robin gave directions from the passenger seat while I tried very hard to act normal. Which was becoming difficult every time I glanced at her legs in fishnets. Or remembered she’d invited me home completely sober. Or remembered she’d looked at me like she wanted to climb me in the parking lot.
Honestly, my heart rate was becoming medically concerning.
“You okay over there, Father?” Robin asked, amusement threading through her voice.
“Fantastic. Totally normal.”
“You’re gripping the steering wheel like it insulted your mother.”
“I’m focused on safe driving.”
“Hm.”
I pulled into an apartment parking lot and cut the engine.
For one second neither of us moved. The charged tension from the car folded tighter in the sudden quiet.
Robin turned toward me slowly, dark lipstick slightly smudged from her drink earlier.
My brain briefly stopped functioning again.
Then she smiled faintly like she knew exactly what she was doing to me, which she probably did.
“Come on,” she said softly.
I followed her upstairs, trying not to stare at the way her hips swayed with every step. That skirt was so short that if she were to bend over at all I would see whatever she had on underneath. That thought had me getting hard in the hallway, so I looked away with a hard swallow.
Her apartment sat on the second floor at the end of the hallway. Robin unlocked the door and pushed it open, then glanced back at me.
“Welcome to my extremely suspicious nun lair.”
I laughed under my breath and stepped inside.
The apartment wasn’t overly decorated, but it felt lived in.
Bookshelves lined one wall packed with horror novels, finance books, roller derby trophies, and what appeared to be several organized storage bins.
A leather jacket hung over the couch beside a fuzzy blanket.
Framed art prints mixed with gaming posters and photos of her with the Reapers.
It somehow fit her perfectly. Her sharp edges were softened by things she loved. I was learning little tidbits about her that I instantly liked.
“You can tell a lot about a person from their apartment,” I said as Robin casually kicked off her boots.
“Should I be scared?”
“You should definitely be concerned.”
She disappeared briefly into the kitchen while I took in the rest of the space more carefully. Even while dimly lit, I could tell the kitchen was practical. It wasn’t empty exactly, but very clearly the kitchen of someone who viewed cooking as optional.
The fridge glowed open while Robin grabbed bottled water. All I saw inside was some takeout containers, a few energy drinks, some eggs, and juice. There were however three different coffee creamers for reasons I desperately wanted explained.
“You want water? Beer? I think I have leftover margarita mix from derby night.”
“Water’s good.”
She handed me a bottle and leaned against the counter while watching me with that same assessing look she always wore at Trixie’s, like she was trying to solve me.
Meanwhile I was becoming increasingly fascinated by her apartment, and by extension, her. Back in the living room, I noticed the entertainment setup more fully. There was a huge TV with multiple gaming systems, and an alarming number of controllers.
“You game?” I asked.
Robin snorted. “No, I just collect expensive electronics for decoration.”
“I don’t know. Rich people buy weird sculptures.”
“Rich People? I think you’ve got the wrong place.”
“I try not to judge.”
She laughed softly and motioned toward another room. “Office is in there.”
Curiosity got the better of me. I glanced inside and nearly stopped in the doorway.
Okay. That was not a normal office setup.
Massive dual monitors glowed across an elaborate desktop arrangement that looked part gaming rig, part NASA command center.
Mechanical keyboards. LED lighting. Expensive hardware.
A custom PC setup that probably cost more than my car.
My eyebrows lifted slowly.
“Robbin’ Banks,” I said carefully. “Are you secretly a supervillain?”
“Depends who’s asking.” Her voice was suspiciously calm.
“You have the computer setup of someone who’s either really into gaming or actively being monitored by the FBI.”
“Why not both? Robin Sherwood, accountant by trade, Robbin’ Banks, derby supervillain by night.”
“There is no way you're an accountant.”
“Well, believe it or not, that’s what I get paid to do.”
God, she was hot. The more I learned about her, the more interesting she became.
She was equal parts roller derby girl, gorgeous, mean in a fun way, and a secret computer nerd.
My heart was in actual danger. Robin leaned against the office doorway watching me take everything in, amusement flickering across her face.
“You done judging my apartment, Father?”
“Not even close.”
That earned me another smile. Then she stepped closer, fingertips brushing lightly against my wrist. And just like that, every other thought evaporated.
“Oh, I hope you didn’t forget why I brought you here.”
My pulse kicked hard as she led me down the short hallway toward her bedroom. The second she pushed the door open, my heart started beating so hard I was pretty sure she could hear it.
She stopped just inside the bedroom doorway and turned toward me slowly.
For one suspended second neither of us moved.
The room felt softer than the rest of the apartment somehow. The lamp light was low. Dark sheets and a comforter tangled across the bed. One of her hoodies tossed carelessly over a chair like she’d changed in a hurry before going out tonight.
It was intimate. Everything seemed too real.
Robin looked at me beneath smudged eyeliner and dark lipstick, fishnets and sinful little nun costume, and my brain fully short-circuited.
A quiet laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
“What?” she asked, already smiling slightly.
I stepped closer slowly, hands settling at her waist.
“I just need you to know, if Catholic school kids could see us right now, they’d explode.”
Robin chuckled softly. “You’re deeply committed to the priest jokes.”
“I cope through humor.”
“Tragic.”
I grinned and leaned down like I was about to kiss her—
Then she dropped to her knees. My entire body locked. Holy fuck.
“Robin—”
She looked up at me with those emerald green eyes through her dark lashes, with a gaze so sharp and heated it nearly punched the air from my lungs. Every coherent thought I had vanished.
I stared down at her, stunned, while her hands slid slowly up my thighs and my pulse started hammering so hard it hurt.
Jesus Christ. The woman was dangerous.
“Still got jokes?” she asked with a seductive smirk.
My mouth actually fell open for a second.
“Nope.”
That earned me the faintest smile before she tugged me closer, and the combination of her confidence, the eye contact, and the fact that she looked entirely too pleased about unraveling me nearly destroyed what little self-control I had left.
I ran one shaky hand through my hair while trying desperately to stay upright and vaguely functional.
“Robin,” I breathed, half warning, half plea.
She hummed thoughtfully like she enjoyed hearing her name in my voice far too much. Which, judging by the look on her face, she absolutely did.
The heat between us burned hotter with every second until I honestly wasn’t sure how much more I could take. And somewhere through the haze of want and nerves, one very clear thought cut through everything else.
I was in so much trouble.
She looked up at me with questioning eyes and began to undo my pants. I slid the costume habit off her head and ran my hair through her dark brown hair that now hung in layers around her shoulders. She peered up at me with those green eyes as she slid my pants down.
I bit down on my bottom lip, calling on all the restraint I could muster. It had been a long time since I’d been with anyone. And Robin was the woman I had been thinking about whenever I’d taken care of myself… and here she was on her knees for me.
“Fuck…” I hissed as she licked the underside of my cock.
My head fell back, lost in the pleasure of her mouth. She began to work me with one hand as her tongue made swirls on the tip of my cock. I groaned and rocked my hips ever so slightly.
Then she took more of me into her mouth. She pulled off with a pop and glided her hand over my slick shaft. It felt like heaven. Then she put her mouth back on me and got to work. I could already feel the build at the base of my spine. This was not going to take long.
“Robin–” I panted as I brushed her hair off her face. She looked up at me and sucked hard enough to hollow her cheeks.
“Oh my god, I’m going to come.”
She pulled off and worked my cock with her hands as I came all over her chest. She looked up at me and picked up the discarded nun’s habit and wiped it away. Why was that so hot?
Robin rose smoothly to her feet again while I stood, still trying to recover enough brain function to form complete sentences. Her lipstick was ruined now, eyes dark and sharp and entirely too satisfied with herself.
“You okay there, Father?” she asked softly.
I laughed breathlessly. “I think I saw God actually.”
That got a real laugh out of her. Then she grabbed the front of my shirt and kissed me for the first time.