Robin looked at Matthew's message again.
If you sleep with him, we're over for good.
Was that really a possibility? Or was it just some irrational fear of Matthew's, an expression of his own insecurity? She thought about Strike and tried to enumerate all the things she found unappealing about him. She knew a year ago there were several, but she had to admit to herself her feelings had changed during this time. She no longer found his size and amount of body hair unpleasant. The fact that he was so naturally masculine put his gentlemanly behavior in relief. He never ogled her, never made a pass. Or maybe he just doesn't find me attractive. Why did she care? It was a good thing, surely, that her boss did not want to make a move on her. She had dealt with more than her share of sexual harassment working as a secretary, and she did not enjoy it. But the thought that Strike did not see her as an attractive woman still stung.
She tried to be honest with herself: I wish he was attracted to me, because it would make me feel better about being attracted to him. As far away from what she had always considered her type as Strike was, she was certainly not alone in finding him attractive. She remembered how incredibly beautiful his fiancée was. Then there was the fact that he had slept with Ciara Porter, the supermodel. And Elin, though not on the same level as those two, was also uncommonly beautiful. I would be a step down from these, really.
God, what was she doing? Was she seriously contemplating the thought of her and Cormoran as a couple? All of a sudden, the fact that he was getting ready for bed a few rooms away was impossible to ignore. She wondered if he slept in his boxers. Or even less than that… She hadn't had sex in weeks, maybe even a month. Maybe that's why she was having these thoughts, it had nothing to do with Strike himself, she was just horny. At first, she and Matthew had been fighting because of her hours at work, or because of fucking Sarah Shadlock, and later it was because of their split. So it had been a while. Maybe all she needed was to release some of that tension…
Her mind drifted back to Cormoran, and this time she let it. It was just a little fantasy to get her off, and the fact that Matthew would hate it only made her hornier. She imagined Cormoran knocking on her door, and she getting up to open it. His tall body would take over the entire doorway. He would take her by the waist and his arms would effortlessly lift her up and turn her around to press her to the door, closing it (Matthew wasn't strong enough to do that, she thrilled). She could feel his coarse beard scratching her neck as he kissed his way to her collarbone. His rough hands driving up the fabric of her nightgown, firmly grabbing her thighs and wrapping them around his torso. With their hips perfectly aligned, she could feel his enormous bulge (much bigger than Matthew's she could tell) straining and teasing her wet panties. He rocked his hips and the cotton fabric molded itself to her. She felt a familiar ache between her legs, a powerful yearning to be filled, stretched around his throbbing cock. Her fingers found their way to the nape of his neck and tugged so as to lift his lips from her flesh. Before he could say anything in protest, she took his bottom lip in between her own and sucked. He made a growling noise and pushed his hips into hers again, and she couldn't help but moan. While their tongues tangled, his right hand moved up her inner thigh and pushed aside the soaking cotton to tease her. Her breathing hitched, and she slid her lips from his mouth to his neck. Encouraged, Cormoran slipped two fingers inside her, while his thumb continued massaging her clit. While he drove her steadily to orgasm, Robin sank her nails into his shoulders, hanging on for dear life. As always, her body almost tried to get away from the feeling, and she tried to push herself up against the wall, but his left arm snaked around her waist and pushed her down in the direction of his fingers. It was all she needed. Her entire body spasmed in bliss.
Coming down from the orgasm her own fingers had produced, but that she had vividly imagined was due to Cormoran's, Robin felt breathless. How am I going to face him in the morning? Would he be able to see it in her face? She wished his perceptiveness were only about criminal activities… It wasn't really about Cormoran though, she reasoned. It was about getting back at Matthew, even if only mentally. About imagining sex with the man Matthew felt most inadequate against, a man who was so different from him. So tall, so manly… Yeah, it had nothing to do with Cormoran. Tomorrow wouldn't be awkward at all.