Chapter Text
“I’m pregnant.”
Orm freezes, spoonful of ice cream halfway to her mouth. She stares at Lingling, brow furrowed, and expression confused. Is Lingling pranking her? Is today April Fool’s Day?
“Orm,” Lingling says, voice tight. “Did you hear what I just said?”
Orm nods mutely. She’s still wondering if this is all an elaborate prank, even though she knows Lingling isn’t the type to do such things.
Is there a hidden camera here? In her kitchen?
Lingling looks at her with something akin to annoyance, and Orm should not think it’s hot. But she does, and—God, she shouldn’t be thinking about how Lingling fucks her like crazy when she’s pissed or a case she’s been working on isn’t going well.
And yet there Orm is, her brain reminding her how Lingling—
“Well?” Lingling prompts, breaking Orm’s traitorous thoughts (a good thing really). “Are you going to stare at me the whole time, or are you going to say something?”
Orm manages to put down the spoon with a quiet clink against the porcelain bowl. She wills herself to focus on the present and what Lingling just told her. “You’re pregnant?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lingling groans and hops off the stool, heading straight to the living room and—
Orm is on her feet in an instant to block Lingling. She holds her back by her arms and doesn’t budge when Lingling tries to plow right through her.
Lingling won’t meet her eyes as she says (more like growls really), “Move, Orm.”
“Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” Orm says, the words coming out of her mouth in a rush. “I thought you were pranking me.”
At that, Lingling’s gaze snaps up and meets Orm’s still bewildered eyes. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
Orm at least has the decency to look sheepish. “I panicked.”
“So, your first reaction was to think I was joking? You know I don’t joke.”
“No, you don’t. I’m sorry, Ling.” Orm leans down to plant a soft, apologetic kiss on Lingling’s cheek.
Orm takes it as a good sign that Lingling doesn’t pull or flinch away.
“Let’s start again?” she asks, trying to meet Lingling’s eyes again and willing her to see the genuineness in her gaze. “I promise I won’t ask stupid questions.”
Lingling relents with a nod and a sigh, moving towards the couch in the living room. She sits down with the grace of someone who wears elegance like a second skin, and Orm tries not to think of how that grace gets forgotten in the midst of passion.
Focus, Orm. Jeez.
Orm shakes her head at herself as she sits down beside Lingling. She keeps a safe distance (mostly because she doesn’t trust herself not to touch Lingling, rather than propriety) but angles her body just enough to show Lingling that she’s got her full attention.
“So, you’re pregnant,” Orm starts, voice serious. “How far along?”
Lingling shrugs, not meeting Orm’s eyes. It’s uncharacteristic of her but Orm can’t blame her. This is only the second serious conversation they’ve had since they started their arrangement. “Dunno,” she says, “But I missed my period just this month.”
“You took a pregnancy test?”
Lingling nods.
Orm wonders when ‘it’ happened. They’ve always been careful—with Orm wearing a condom when she knows she can’t control herself (which is quite often because have you seen Lingling?) and Lingling taking birth control pills as prescribed by her gynecologist.
Orm thinks it might be the Sethachon business event when Lingling wore a black backless gown with a thigh-high slit that had Orm hiding her arousal the whole night and fucking Lingling in the backseat of her car two hours later.
Or it could be Yada's gallery exhibit when they snuck out to have a quickie (if 45 minutes is considered a quickie) in the restroom without using protection.
It could also be that one time in Orm’s office when Lingling swung by to drop off some legal files and ended up bent over Orm’s desk with half of the buttons of her blouse missing.
God, it could be any night, if Orm’s being honest, because Lingling is hot and Orm is seriously obsessed with her to the point that she gets hard with just a simple look from Ling.
A look!
“Orm.”
Orm hums, trying to blink back the memories of the intimate nights (and days) she spent with Lingling. “Yeah?”
Lingling looks down at Orm’s lap and then back up to her eyes and says, “You’re hard.”
Orm blinks. Once. Twice. And then she looks down at herself and sees that there is indeed a bulge straining against her sweatpants. Ah, fuck. Really?
She has the decency to look sheepish and hide her very obvious arousal behind a cushion. “Sorry, I was just thinking when it could’ve happened. I got… carried away.”
Lingling arches an eyebrow at her but doesn’t say anything else.
Although Orm sees a light upward tick at the corner of Lingling’s mouth, indicating she’s amused and not offended in the slightest.
“You thought about the times we slept together, and you got turned on?” Lingling finally asks, sounding pleased.
“You exist and I get hard.” Orm shrugs like it’s a universal fact. “It’s your fault, really.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Don’t kink shame me!”
This time, Lingling really smiles, and there’s a hint of a chuckle in her voice when she says, “I’m your kink?”
“Yeah,” Orm readily agrees without shame. Why should she feel embarrassed, anyway? Lingling is the most beautiful woman she’s ever slept with. Getting to touch her, hearing her gasping Orm’s name, and listening to her moans are a privilege. An honor that Orm will fight for to defend. “I’m Ling-sexual.”
Lingling blinks at her. And then she barks out a laugh, the one where she throws her head back with no restraints.
It’s the most beautiful sound Orm has ever heard.
And the most dangerous, too.
“God, I hate you so much,” Lingling mutters once her laughter has died down.
“No, you don’t,” Orm counters easily.
“No.” Lingling shakes her head, still with a smile on her lips. “No, I don’t.”
They share a look. One that is too soft and warm to be exchanged with fuck buddies/friends with benefits. One that makes warmth spread across Orm’s chest and down her stomach. One that tells Orm that she’s fucked.
It’s Lingling who breaks the spell by clearing her throat and looking away.
Orm doesn’t let herself be disappointed. She can’t afford that. Not after a year in this arrangement. Not with the possibility of raising a child with Lingling.
Right.
“Do you wanna keep it?” Orm suddenly asks. “I mean the baby.”
Lingling looks at her again, this time with curiosity. “You’re not even gonna ask if it’s yours?”
“I already know it is,” is Orm’s immediate reply. She doesn’t care if she sounds arrogant but what she just said is a fact, anyway. “I’m the only person you’ve been sleeping with since we met.” And yet a sliver of a doubt creeps in. “… right?”
Lingling rolls her eyes but there’s a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. “Yes.”
Orm lets out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding, and she hides it behind a mask of triumph. “See? So, no need to ask that question. I just wanna know if you want to keep it.”
At the repetition of Orm’s question, Lingling takes a deep breath, eyes looking straight ahead. Orm can see the visible tenseness in Lingling’s posture as she answers, “I… I don’t know. I do want to have a baby but I don’t know if this is the right time.”
Orm nods. Despite working at her family’s law firm, Lingling has made her way through the corporate ladder on her own credentials and has recently been promoted to senior associate after winning back-to-back-to-back cases for VIP clients.
Now she’s on her way to becoming a partner, showing her talents as a lawyer to her family and the board of directors, hellbent on tearing her down.
And now this? A baby with someone she’s not even dating?
Orm will definitely understand if Lingling just decides to abort the baby.
She’s got every reason to.
Orm reaches out across the space between them and takes one of Lingling’s hands in both of hers. Lingling’s eyes are wary as she watches Orm lean down and brush her lips against the back of her hand, soft, barely there.
“Whatever you decide,” Orm says, her lips still touching the skin of Lingling’s hand, “I’ll be here to support you.”
Lingling swallows, and her voice is so small—so different from the Lingling Orm knows—when she meets Orm’s eyes and asks, “What about you?”
“Me?” Orm echoes, puzzled. “I don’t have a say in this.”
“It’s your baby, too.”
“But it’s your body,” Orm reminds her, her hands squeezing Lingling’s once before putting it down to rest on the space between them. “If you don’t wanna keep it, that’s fine by me. But if you do, then I’ll be with you every single step of the way.”
Despite not even thinking about her words, Orm means them. She will be with Lingling throughout her pregnancy. It’s the least she can do.
Sure, it’s not part of her plan. Or Lingling’s. Hell, it’s not something they should even consider given their relationship—or lack thereof—but it’s a consequence of an action they both did.
And Orm isn’t going to be a deadbeat mom who’ll abandon her partner after finding out she’s pregnant.
Non-relationship or not, it’s her child, too.
Plus, she’s kinda scared of what her mother will do to her if she finds out Orm abandoned her own kid.
She probably won’t hear the end of it.
Lingling’s quiet voice and question pull Orm back to the present. “Serious?” she asks.
“As a heart attack,” Orm confirms with a nod. “I knocked you up, Ling, so of course I’ll take full responsibility for what I did.”
“We’re not even dating,” Lingling reminds her, firm but not unkind.
And while that reminder stabs Orm in the chest—somewhere close to where her heart is—she doesn’t show it. Now is not the time to dwell on their arrangement or the feelings she really shouldn’t have in the first place.
“We can co-parent,” Orm says, like it’s the most obvious answer to their dilemma. “We’re friends now anyway, plus we have good chemistry, so I think we’ll manage.”
Lingling considers Orm’s words, eyes never leaving her face as she examines Orm’s expression for any hint of dishonesty. “Having good chemistry in bed doesn’t automatically translate into a great… co-parenting relationship.”
“Yeah, but if we fight, we can just have make-up sex.”
Lingling throws a couch cushion at Orm’s head, which promptly falls to the floor near their feet. “That’s the reason why we’re in this mess in the first place, Orm.”
Orm is still laughing as she reaches for the cushion and puts it on top of the one already resting on her lap. “Well, I can’t knock you up again while you’re pregnant, so I think we’ll be safe.”
“Pervert,” murmurs Lingling but Orm can see the smile trying to break out of her lips.
Point to Orm.
And because Orm can’t help but be honest when it comes to Lingling, she says, “I’d love to raise a kid with you if you’d let me, Ling. If you choose to keep it. I don’t care about the capacity. I can give child support from afar. I can stay with you the whole nine months and until our kid is 18. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give and never demand more.”
This time, when Lingling’s eyes meet Orm’s, they’re a little red with unshed tears.
Orm automatically reaches out and cups Lingling’s face with her hands, cradling it like something precious. Because to Orm, it is.
Always has been.
“You’re not alone in this, Ling. I won’t let you. To be honest, you’d probably need to file a restraining order if you want to get rid of me.”
Lingling’s chuckle is watery, and her voice wavers a little when she says, “Why do you always have to be so genuine, Orm? I hate it.”
Orm smiles, eyes crinkling. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be, Ling. I promise.”
Lingling nods and doesn’t say anything else.
And for now, Orm doesn’t either.
Orm can still vividly remember the day she and Lingling first met at a lesbian bar in downtown Bangkok, where she and her friends were celebrating Charlotte’s birthday.
It was a celebration typical of Charlotte. Fun, energetic, rowdy, and with free-flowing drinks—Charlotte’s signature.
And Orm, having known Charlotte for years since they got bunked together in the dorms for economics/business management students, knew that she wasn’t going home sober.
And so, she walked into the bar and into the VIP area Charlotte (Engfa, really) had reserved for them with nothing but her phone and a condom packet in her jeans’ pockets and a neatly wrapped gift in her hands.
“Babe!” Charlotte exclaimed the moment her eyes landed on Orm at the threshold of the VIP room. She immediately stood up and made her way to her. “You made it!”
“Of course I did,” Orm responded with the same enthusiasm, grinning and stretching her arms out in front of her. “Happy birthday, you whore.”
Charlotte was laughing as she walked towards Orm. “Bitch, you shouldn’t have!” she said even as she took the gift in her hands and herded Orm to the long leather couch on one side of the room.
Already, it was too loud. Their friends from university—Milk, Love, Yada, Ying, and Prigkhing—were already singing their hearts out to Total Eclipse of the Heart with Milk, Love, and Yada doing an interpretative dance and Ying and Prig singing to each other like some lovesick fools.
“Where’s your girl?” Orm asked, eyes wandering around the room to look for Engfa.
“She’s got a deposition that’s running a bit late,” Charlotte answered, raising her voice to be heard above all the ‘singing.’ “She’ll be here in a few.”
Before Orm could reply, there were warm and clumsy arms wrapping around her from behind.
“Ormie!”
Orm turned around in Love’s arms to look down at her obviously inebriated friend. “Heya, Pattranite.”
Love scowled—more like frowned—before slurring, “The fuck you called me, you shit?”
“Damn, you curse like a pirate when drunk? Where are your manners, bitch?” Orm asked as she laughed and planted a peck against her friend’s cheek. “You started partying without me?”
Just then, the song ended and everyone else in the room noticed Orm’s arrival.
Which, obviously, made everything more chaotic.
They all yelled Orm’s name like they hadn’t seen her in months—which they hadn’t—and rushed to her like rabid fans.
Orm, honest to God, took a step back.
But it was too late, as too warm and clammy hands all grabbed at her—face, cheeks, arms, hands—anything they could reach.
“You ghosted us!” Yada cried.
“Why did you leave me with them for months, Orm?” It was Milk. “I was losing my mind!”
Next was Ying. “Where have you been all this time?”
And then Prig shouted, “We missed you!”
“Why are you all more excited to see her than me?” Charlotte whined from somewhere behind all the chaos.
“We literally saw you at brunch yesterday, Char,” someone—Orm thought it was Yada—said, “Stop being so dramatic.”
Orm was still laughing despite her friends crowding her and basically removing the term ‘personal space’ from the dictionary. “I was busy with a new project, I’m sorry.”
“We legit thought you forgot about us!” Love was saying with—tears?
God, she forgot how melodramatic her friends could get. Even more so when they were drunk.
“You?” Orm gasped. “I could never forget any of you.”
“Group hug!” someone yelled.
And before Orm could escape, six bodies descended on her.
Later, when everyone detached from Orm after ten promises made that she wouldn’t miss another bi-monthly brunch and a monthly dinner, Orm caught up with her friends.
Milk and Love were still going strong in their relationship, even with Love being busy with her master’s in business and Milk focusing on her modelling career.
Yada was still doing freelance photography and would be launching her gallery next year, to which Orm was invited and had promised she would go no matter what. That—or Yada was going to make a scene in front of her apartment.
As for Prig, she was happily teaching kindergarten students in a local school, a job that Orm would’ve never pegged Prig as suitable for, considering her attitude could rival a four-year-old’s.
Ying was working 8-5 as a marketing associate for a local company in the business district. Something she told Orm was just a ‘phase,’ whatever that meant.
They were doing great, career-wise.
Then there was Charlotte, who was doing nothing but being spoiled rotten by her (older) lawyer girlfriend, Engfa, as she thought of her next plan.
“It’s not like I’ve got a family-owned business like you do,” Charlotte was saying. “But I was thinking of taking up my master’s like Love.”
At the reminder of her current position, Orm groaned. “It’s not all fun and games, y’know? Dad is stepping down in two years, so he’s expediting my training. That’s why I couldn’t go out with you girls as much anymore.”
“Expediting, huh?” Charlotte’s grin was maniacal. “A few months into your family business and you’re already using big words?”
Orm was laughing as she shoved Charlotte. “Girl, fuck off.”
“Really, though,” Charlotte said once their laughter had died down, “I’m glad it’s working out for you. But you’ve gotta take a breather, too, girl. This ain’t you.”
At the reminder, Orm groaned. “God. I miss partying until 6AM.”
“That’s what we’re doing!” Yada interrupted before Charlotte could even say anything in response. “So, get off your ass, and let’s party!”
For the next hour, that was what they did. Conversations flowed naturally among them, shots were taken with little to no breaks in between, hearts were sung out, one or two of them tripped on the couch, and at some point, Charlotte lost her blouse.
It was just like they were back in college.
Except this time, Orm stopped herself from drinking more than she could comfortably handle.
Why? She got no idea. It wasn’t like she had an early meeting the next day.
And she knew that Engfa—wherever she was—would make sure that all of them got home safely. Or at least safely dumped in Charlotte’s condo, where they would wake up the next day questioning their life decisions.
Still, Orm shook her head at the next shot of tequila that Yada offered her. “Restroom,” she shouted over the loud bass. “Be right back.”
She was halfway out of the hallway when she bumped—quite literally—into Engfa.
“I’m sorry!” Orm blinked as she stepped back and realized who she had hit. “Oh. It’s you. Hi, Fa!”
Engfa was wearing a long-sleeved silk blouse and dark slacks, looking like she had just gotten out of a case that had gone on too long. Which was what exactly happened, if she remembered Charlotte’s words correctly.
Engfa smiled, although Orm could see the tiredness in her eyes. “Hi, Orm. Where are you going?”
“Restroom,” Orm easily answered. “Char’s with the girls.”
“Will you be okay?” Engfa asked, probably noting how Orm was leaning slightly against the wall.
Orm nodded slowly. She wasn’t exactly sober, but she wasn’t inebriated either. There was just enough buzzing in her head that make things a bit fuzzy around the edges.
“I’m good. But I’ll probably get some air after.”
Engfa looked a little unconvinced, but Orm knew that she was probably itching to see Charlotte already. And knowing her friend, Charlotte was probably pouting now, too.
“I’ll be fine,” Orm repeated with more conviction this time. “I shared my location with Char. If you need to find me, just check her phone.”
Engfa still looked unconvinced, but she nodded with a small smile and a quiet, “Be careful.”
In the restroom, Orm splashed some cold water on her too-warm face.
It had been a while since she last drank, and she knew that if she kept throwing back tequila shots like water, she’d barely remember the rest of the night.
It was kinda ironic, if she thought about it. She used to party almost every other day back in college, and now she was thinking about how much she would hate herself in the morning if she drank herself to oblivion.
Her parents would be proud. Charlotte would be horrified and cry. Love, Yada, and Prig would gasp and accuse her of lying. Milk and Ying would pat her on the back and mutter something along the lines of, “I feel you.”
Shaking her head and feeling more sober than she felt a while ago, Orm started making her way back to the private rooms area.
Her eyes were scanning the place, noting that it was quieter here compared to their VIP room, when something by the bar caught her eye. Like a gravitational pull, a light tug at her subconscious.
But it wasn’t anything dramatic.
She didn’t stop breathing. She didn’t stop dead in her tracks.
Her feet just slowed down as if in a slow-mo as her eyes took in the woman in a simple black dress, sitting alone on a bar stool with a black blazer draped on its back, nursing what Orm could only assume was wine.
Her feet started moving before her brain could process what was happening.
Once she was near the bar, Orm intentionally sat down on the empty seat beside the woman, leaned casually on the counter, and waited for the bartender to meet her eyes.
When she did, Orm said casually, “Whatever the beautiful lady beside me is having.”
Orm could feel a heavy gaze fall on her, and she slowly—deliberately—turned her head to meet the woman’s dark eyes and catch her watching her with something close to curiosity and exasperation.
Oh, Orm absolutely loved it when a woman was hot when pissed.
“I was referring to you, by the way,” Orm said with a smile, small enough to be both genuine and teasing, “in case that wasn’t clear.”
“Not interested,” the woman replied with a voice that nearly turned Orm’s knees into jelly.
Oh, her voice sounded beautiful.
Orm wanted to hear more of it.
So, despite the blatant rejection, she turned a little in her seat, her body now facing the woman and replied, “That’s a bit presumptuous of you, don’t you think? Assuming I’m interested in you.”
One of the woman’s dark eyebrows lifted just slightly. And then, with composure similar to a steel wrapped in a dark blazer, she said, “You sat right beside me, even with other empty stools nearby, ordered the same drink I have, and indirectly called me beautiful. And you think I was being presumptuous by assuming you want me?”
Orm chuckled, low and utterly affected by the slight tinge of annoyance lacing the woman’s voice. “I could just be complimenting you.”
“We’re in a lesbian bar,” the woman deadpanned.
This time, Orm couldn’t help but laugh. Not loud, just low and delighted. This woman was fascinating, alright. “I’m Orm.”
“And as I said,” the woman replied, “I’m not interested.”
“Okay, Miss Not Interested. Nice to meet you.”
Before Miss Not Interested could respond again, the bartender slid a wine glass across the counter.
Orm didn’t even touch the wine glass, she simply thanked her with a smile and said, “Put it in Charlotte Austin’s tab.”
The bartender nodded before attending to other patrons.
When Orm turned to Miss Not Interested again, she was looking at Orm with deadly scrutiny.
As if she were analyzing her under a microscope.
It should’ve been unsettling.
Instead, Orm could feel heat blooming underneath her skin and slowly spreading across her body, rendering her motionless.
Something about this woman’s heated gaze was melting Orm’s cool exterior, and she didn’t know if it was a good thing or not.
But she didn’t care if she burned, as long as this woman looked at her.
Orm was officially obsessed.
And she wasn’t exactly known to stop when she had obsessions.
“You’re a friend of Charlotte Austin,” Miss Not Interested murmured like she was weighing the name on her tongue.
At that, the singeing in Orm’s veins cooled down a little, replaced instead by genuine curiosity. “You know Charlotte?”
Miss Not Interested only hummed.
Orm didn’t care if her voice was petulant when she said, “Oh, come on. Don’t leave me hanging like that. I’m actually curious.”
Miss Not Interested only shook her head before taking a dainty sip of her wine.
Orm should’ve taken that as her cue to go. Clearly, this woman was not interested in indulging in a stranger’s company (or divulging how she knew Charlotte), and Orm, despite her tactlessness, knew when to step back and accept no.
Except she noticed how Miss Not Interested’s eyes flickered to her for a second—too quickly to be noticed by anyone else.
But Orm was already watching her closely and caught it.
That was enough for her.
“Charlotte is my best friend,” Orm started, turning her body away from Miss Not Interested. Not too much—just enough to show that she wasn’t trying anything anymore, and that she was simply making conversation now. “We’re celebrating her birthday with a couple of our college friends.”
“And you’re telling me this, why?” Miss Not Interested asked without looking up from swirling her wine.
“Because you recognized her name. Not sure how because, clearly, you’re out of Charlotte’s league, so you can’t possibly be her ex. And we have the same friend groups, so I know all of her friends. You’re in neither, so I’m curious.”
“Then keep wondering.”
Although the words should’ve made Orm flinch, the tone with which they were delivered wasn’t cold or unkind. It was teasing. Amused.
So, Orm plowed on, uncaring about the ice-cold exterior of Miss Not Interested. She liked yapping, anyway, and staying here nursing wine she wasn’t going to drink was a good way to sober up.
“Charlotte and I were classmates who happened to end up in the same dorm room,” Orm started, “We became even closer because we were both interested in dancing, so we joined a dance club at uni. That’s also how we met Milk, Love, Yada, Ying, and Prigkhing. They’re the friends we’re celebrating with.”
“Anyway,” Orm continued, not minding that her ‘companion’ hadn’t even acknowledged anything she just said, “all 7 of us became close during dance practices and we stayed friends even after college. We’re a chaotic bunch—Charlotte, especially, that woman—but I love all of them to bits.”
“I still don’t know why you’re telling me these things,” Miss Not Interested muttered, sounding unamused but Orm could see the slight twitch of her lips, only made visible by the dim amber lights.
“Well, I need to sober up, and you claimed you’re not interested in sleeping with me so Imma yap to you instead.”
Orm heard a quick, short exhale from Miss Not Interested and thought it might be something close to laughter.
Naturally, she wanted to hear more.
“How about you?” Orm asked like they were having a very healthy discussion and not a one-way conversation. “Why are you all alone on a Friday night at a lesbian bar?”
“Because I want to be.”
Orm nodded, not for the sake of it but because she actually believed it. “That tracks. You could have anyone, for sure. Or me. I’m still up for grabs. Just want to throw it out there.”
“You’re a funny woman,” Miss Not Interested mused. And then, as if sealing Orm’s fate, she turned her head slightly and caught Orm’s gaze before saying, “Orm.”
And Orm—the useless lesbian that she was—froze and stopped breathing because—oh.
The way this woman said her name was just… heavenly, like smooth silk sliding against her skin, evoking sensations Orm didn’t even know she could feel.
Orm shifted, feeling herself getting a little turned on by the mere mention of her name.
It was kinda pathetic, and she would’ve been embarrassed if Miss Not Interested weren’t so pretty.
But she was so Orm couldn’t feel any shame with how she was reacting to this captivating woman.
“Say my name again,” Orm all but breathed out, voice low enough for just the two of them to hear. Forget kinda. She was definitely pathetic.
“You’d have to work for it.” This time, Miss Not Interested openly smirked and Orm swore that there were two scenarios that could happen tonight: either her heart was going to fall out of her ribs or she would start to strain against her jeans.
She didn’t know what was worse.
“By yapping?” Orm murmured, half-serious.
Miss Not Interested chuckled. Honest to God chuckled, and Orm swore under her breath. She was already in too deep with a woman whose name she didn’t even know.
“God, if you’re not interested in sleeping with me, can I just hear you laugh?” Orm asked, a little breathless and unhinged. She didn’t understand what this woman was doing to her. She didn’t care. “Just one time? I think that’d be enough to sustain me for a week or two.”
Miss Not Interested turned a little in her seat, just a little but enough so that their knees brushed lightly. Orm could swear she felt sparks fly with such a little touch despite the layers of fabric between them.
“Do you always get women this way?” Miss Not Interested asked, tilting her head just slightly. “By yapping to them to the point that they either acknowledge your existence or throw wine at your face?”
Orm shrugged, grinning like a maniac. “I don’t mind getting splashed with wine, especially if it’s because of a woman like you.”
“I’m 31, you know.”
The information was offered so casually, so offhandedly that Orm had to blink once, twice, unsure if she heard it right.
But she did, and if possible, she only got more turned on, and she said as much, “Oh. That’s hot.”
Miss Not Interested searched Orm’s face. “You’re really funny.”
“What?” Orm asked, sincerely wondering what was funny about her statement. “I always did fancy older women.”
“How old are you, exactly?”
Orm smiled. Now, this was becoming a two-way conversation. “24. Perfectly legal and capable of making my own decisions.”
“Your prefrontal cortex isn’t even fully formed yet.”
Again, with the random, unrelated information. Orm would think Miss Not Interested was trying to distract her if there weren’t a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was enjoying this—whatever this was.
“It will be in a few months,” Orm replied, “Five, to be exact. But does it really matter?”
“Your birth month’s May?” Miss Not Interested asked.
The question was so casual, but Orm didn’t care as long as this goddess incarnate kept talking to her. “Yeah. May 27.”
“Oh. My birthday’s in the same month.” And then Miss Not Interested blinked like she couldn’t believe she said that out loud.
Orm couldn’t either. Just a few minutes ago, she all but shoved Orm away. Now she was handing Orm little tidbits of information about herself. Casually. Freely.
So, Orm didn’t give her a chance to second guess. “Really? Says a lot about our computability then.”
“You got that from my birth month?”
“Sure. And how you still haven’t stopped talking to me.” Orm winked with a sly smile.
When Miss Not Interested chuckled this time, it wasn’t teasing. It was light, almost warm.
It wrapped around Orm like a blanket on a cold night—comforting and very much welcomed.
“Name’s Lingling.”
Orm promptly choked on air, totally unprepared for the way Miss Not Interested—Lingling—just dropped her name. Just like that.
Orm tried to go for cool. She could definitely act cool again, sure, sure. “Lingling,” she said, the name sounding delectable just rolling off her tongue—and gods, she wanted to say it over and over again. “It’s a pleasure to finally learn your name. What made you change your mind?”
Lingling shrugged. “You’re too honest and too much of a yapper to have ill intent.”
“I’m sure that’s supposed to be insulting but I’m taking it as a compliment.” Orm grinned, just delighted to have learned Lingling’s name. She honestly didn’t think she would what with Lingling’s initial cold demeanor towards her.
“Oh, and correction,” Orm said after a beat, “I do have intent, but it’s not ill.”
“And what is that?” Lingling arched an eyebrow at her.
And Orm, the honest person that she was, answered truthfully, “I wanna sleep with you.”
Lingling chuckled again—another point to Orm—and she was shaking her head as she said, “Yes, I gathered that the moment you sat next to me.”
“Still not interested?” Orm asked just because. If Lingling truly didn’t want to sleep with her, Orm could live with that. She’d be bummed—crestfallen, even, considering how beautiful and fascinating Lingling was—but she’d live.
This time, Lingling didn’t say no. Instead, she simply answered, “I’m still thinking about it.”
“That’s so much better than a no,” Orm said, grinning like an idiot. She couldn’t quite understand what got her so hooked on Lingling. She thought it might be something about how contradicting Lingling seemed to be—aloof at first, then flirty the next—that Orm couldn’t help but want to learn more.
She wanted to unpack everything about Lingling. Unravel her in more ways than one.
“If you’re celebrating with your friends,” Lingling said, pulling Orm out of her thoughts, “aren’t you worried they’d come looking for you?”
Orm shrugged. At this point in their friendship, she knew her friends would either think she died—at which point, they’d track her phone and breathe a sigh of relief when they find her slumped drunk on a bar counter—or she slipped away to have sex with a stranger.
“They won’t mind,” she told Lingling. “They’re probably too drunk to care.”
And then a sly smirk made its way to Orm’s lips at a sudden realization. “Why? Worried we’d get interrupted?”
Lingling took her time before answering, sipping her wine and putting it down with so much grace Orm was starting to think she was some sort of royalty. “I don’t like to be interrupted when I start something.” Lingling’s voice turned low, almost suggestive. Almost.
Emboldened by the further shift in Lingling’s demeanor, Orm leaned in a little, just close enough to share Lingling’s space without crowding her and get a whiff of her perfume that seemed to be a mix of bergamot and vanilla.
“Are we starting something, Lingling?” Orm asked.
Lingling didn’t pull away. Instead, she looked at Orm with a heavy gaze, eyes twinkling with something close to amusement and barely restrained desire. “Depends.”
“On?”
“On how you good you actually are.”
Orm arched an eyebrow, challenged at the mere implication. “You think I’m all bark no bite?”
With the way Lingling smirked, it was the right answer. “Are you?”
There it is.
“Wanna find out yourself?”
Lingling’s smirk and the way her eyes darted down to Orm’s lips before meeting her eyes again were answer enough.
They didn’t make it to Orm’s apartment.
Instead, the moment they went out the back of the bar, Orm slammed Lingling against a wall behind the alleyway, mouth kissing whatever skin she could reach and hands leaving handprint bruises in their wake.
“Can I fuck you here?” Orm rasped against Lingling’s neck, lungs full of Lingling’s intoxicating perfume. She nipped at the sensitive skin hard enough to make Lingling hiss but not enough to bruise.
“You’re asking that now?” Lingling asked, breathless but sounding amused.
Orm shrugged but she didn’t stop her ministrations—sliding her hands up and down Lingling’s sides, bunching up her dress and making it ride up, revealing smooth thighs Orm would love to have wrapped around her head. “Consent is sexy.”
“So is a woman on her knees.” Lingling’s gaze was full of meaning and intent. And Orm? She was a goner. She knew she was going to do whatever Lingling asked of her as long as she spoke with that husky tone. “On your knees, pretty girl. Let’s see what that mouth can do aside from yapping.”
Orm didn’t need to be told twice as she fell to her knees in front of Lingling.
She wanted to savor the moment, maybe tease Lingling, see which buttons make her gasp, but Orm was already feeling impatient.
She wanted to have a taste of Lingling, and she wanted it now.
So, without much preamble, Orm lifted up the hem of Lingling’s dress and licked a broad stripe against the damp fabric of Lingling’s underwear.
“Oh—”
Even through the fabric, Orm could taste Lingling’s arousal, which only made her throb harder in her jeans. She felt like she was an addict getting her first hit of drugs after months of being clean.
Orm wanted more.
“Hold up your dress for me,” she instructed, and without waiting for Lingling’s reply, one of her hands grasped Lingling’s and made her hold the dress’s hem.
Orm thought she might’ve heard Lingling’s breath hitch, but she was too busy nosing against Lingling’s bare thigh to give a damn. “I haven’t even touched you yet but you’re already this wet?” she rasped against Lingling’s skin, nipping lightly just to tease.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Lingling shot back but the shallowness of her breath, the tight grip she had on her dress, and the way she was looking down at Orm with a heavy, dark gaze said everything she didn’t want to admit out loud.
Orm only smirked before lifting a hand and tugging at Lingling’s underwear. She wordlessly looked up at Lingling for permission and smiled when she received a small nod.
With deft fingers, she slowly, tortuously, peeled Lingling’s underwear from her damp skin, the smell of arousal wafting to Orm’s nose and making her mouth water at the mere scent.
Once Lingling had stepped out of her panties, Orm wasted no time in bundling up the fabric and shoving it into her jeans.
Then, she leaned forward again, nosing against Lingling’s bare cunt, almost salivating like a rabid dog. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you.”
“Then stop talking and—”
Orm’s tongue darted out and licked Lingling’s slit, effectively interrupting whatever Lingling was about to say and replacing it with a broken moan.
Even Orm had to moan herself because good heavens, Lingling tasted absolutely incredible, and Orm couldn’t get enough.
Orm stiffened the end of her tongue and sought out Lingling’s clit, focusing all her attention on the bundle of nerves, which caused one of Lingling’s hands to shoot down and grab fistfuls of Orm’s hair.
“Just like that—ah!” Lingling softly cried above her, and it was enough to spur Orm on as she continued licking and sucking at Lingling’s pussy as if it were her last meal.
When Orm inserted one finger into Lingling’s soaked entrance, Lingling’s grip on Orm’s hair tightened to the point of pain.
Yet, Orm couldn’t care less, groaning against Lingling’s cunt and simply continuing her ministrations.
“God, your mouth is amazing,” Orm heard Lingling say, followed quickly by a broken off gasp when Orm pushed another finger in and started thrusting into Lingling in earnest.
Determined to make Lingling come undone and hear more of those pretty sounds fall from her lips, Orm doubled down on her efforts, alternating between sucking Lingling’s clit into her mouth and licking long and broad strips against her pussy lips, all the while continuing the slow pumping of her fingers.
It didn’t matter that Orm’s knees were starting to hurt or that her erection was becoming painful in the confines of her jeans.
All that mattered was the choked-off moans and whimpers coming from Lingling’s pretty mouth, and the way she was pushing her hips against Orm’s mouth like it wasn’t enough.
When Lingling started moving her pussy frantically against Orm’s mouth, Orm redoubled her efforts, curling her fingers just right to hit the sensitive spot inside Lingling and oh-so lightly scraping her teeth against her clit.
The hand in her hair gripped even tighter as Lingling’s movements became erratic and then stopped altogether at once, her body locking up as an orgasm tore through her.
Lingling let out a low but high-pitched whine and a quiet, “Fuck,” the warmth of her cum going straight to Orm’s waiting tongue.
Orm moaned at the taste, lapping up the wetness like it was a blessing from the gods.
In a way, it was.
And then Lingling pulled Orm’s head back by gripping her hair, stopping her from doing anything more.
Orm—honest to God—whimpered.
It was pathetic. If she cared.
She didn’t.
Orm wanted more of Lingling. Hell, she’d probably stay on her knees worshipping her for as long as Lingling let her.
Lingling was still trying to catch her breath, flushed cheeks visible even with the dim glow of the streetlights, and Orm couldn’t help but smirk.
Lingling was beautifully wrecked. Orm did that. What a fucking ego boost.
“Stand up,” Lingling ordered, voice still gruff.
Orm obliged, uncaring about how knees and cock ached—only that Lingling after an orgasm looked so devastatingly beautiful Orm was unable to stop herself from leaning in to kiss her.
The moment their lips touched, Orm knew she was gone. Dead. Because—holy fuck.
Lingling’s lips were soft and pliant, but they moved against Orm’s with purpose and control as if the mere thought of losing control over a kiss displeased her.
And then Lingling kissed her harder, moaning at the taste of herself on Orm’s tongue, teeth nibbling on Orm’s lower lip, and sucking like she wanted to devour Orm whole.
Orm wanted more.
Her hands came up to cradle Lingling’s jaw, tilting her face a little sideways to further deepen their kiss. Her body moved on instinct, pushing Lingling harder against the wall like she could embed her into it through sheer power alone.
She knew her erection was pressing against Lingling’s stomach, but Orm couldn’t give a damn. Not when Lingling only moaned against her mouth at the feeling.
Lingling made the most beautiful sounds that Orm had ever heard.
“You’re hard,” Lingling murmured against Orm’s lips, not moving far enough to break their kiss.
Orm nibbled on Lingling’s lower lip and soothed it with a swipe of her tongue that had Lingling’s breath hitching. “Of course, I am,” Orm answered as she pulled back a little, voice just as low. “I just ate out the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Flatterer.” Lingling rolled her eyes, looking undeniably ruined but still somehow managing to look in control, and Orm wanted more, more, more.
“Now you’re about to fuck the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.” Lingling smirked. "You up for that, big boy?”
Listen, Orm never had a thing for being called masculine pet names. But the moment the words ‘big boy’ passed Lingling’s lips?
Orm got harder, almost to the point of pain. Her hands, now on Lingling’s hips, tightened their grip. “Fuck, lady, you’re gonna kill me.”
“Not just yet. You’re no good to me dead.” And then Lingling sealed Orm’s fate by saying in the sultriest voice known to man, “Fuck me, Orm.”
Orm pulled back and hastened to comply. She unbuckled her belt and unzipped her jeans, letting them pool around her ankles in record time, not even caring if she looked like a teenage boy who was getting laid for the very first time.
No shame in being a simp for a woman as beautiful as Lingling.
She just got her cock out of her boxers and placed her hands on Lingling’s hips again when she remembered—
“Condom.”
Lingling blinked at her, as if she, too, was just remembering. “Please tell me you have at least one with you right now.”
Orm nodded. Removing her hands from Lingling—with much difficulty, she might add—she crouched down and rummaged through her jean pocket for the condom packet.
Once she found it, she stood up and ripped it open with her teeth without hesitation, rolling it over her length with practiced ease.
When she looked up, she saw Lingling watching her with dilated eyes and parted lips. Her breathing was ragged.
“Like what you see?” Orm couldn’t help but tease.
Orm thought Lingling would blush and look up and away. What she did instead surprised Orm.
“Yes,” Lingling answered, confident. In control like she didn’t just come in Orm’s mouth in a back alley. “But I’d like it better inside me.”
Orm didn’t need to be told twice as she put her arms under Lingling’s thighs and lifted her up.
Lingling automatically wrapped her legs around Orm’s hips in response and clung to her shoulders for balance.
Without a word, Lingling snaked one arm between them, aligned Orm to her entrance, and guided her in.
They both moaned at the sensation. Orm with how fucking perfect and warm Lingling was around her.
And Lingling—
“Fuck, you’re big.”
Orm smirked, ego suitably stroked. Her size was one of the many things women liked about her. “I know how to use it, too. Want a demo?”
Lingling’s laugh was breathy as she adjusted to Orm inside her. “You’re such a dork. Just fuck me.”
With a smile, Orm obliged. Her hands’ grip on Lingling’s thighs tightened, her hips flushed against Lingling’s thighs. And then she moved—hard and deep and—
“Fuck,” Lingling moaned.
And so did Orm. Because—holy shit.
Despite the way she acted like a teenager earlier, this wasn’t her first time with a stranger. Certainly not with a woman.
But something about Lingling—the way she clutched Orm’s shoulders, nails digging into her skin hard enough to leave red indents, the way she sounded like she couldn’t catch her breath every time Orm pushed into her, the way she threw her head back against the wall with a dull thump, the way she clenched around Orm like velvet—made Orm a little crazy.
Feral, even.
Which was evident in how hard and fast Orm kept thrusting into Lingling just to hear more of the broken gasps, the quiet whimpers, and the choked-out moans from her.
“God, you feel so good, Lingling. So tight,” Orm rasped against Lingling’s neck, already getting addicted to the scent of Lingling’s perfume, the sounds she was making, and the feeling of her even despite the rubber between them. “It’s like you’re made to take my cock.”
“Orm—ah!”
God, the way Lingling sounded was music to Orm’s ears. She needed more.
With newfound enthusiasm, Orm adjusted her hold on Lingling, hands now gripping her ass and then—
“Yes,” Lingling hissed, head thrown back in pleasure, “Ah, right there!”
Orm leaned down and mouthed the column of Lingling’s throat. She could feel herself unravelling just by hearing Lingling’s moans and whimpers. God. “You sound divine.”
“Orm—fuck—”
“Shh. You’re going to get us caught.” Despite those words, Orm smirked against Lingling’s sweat-slicked skin, smug at having this woman completely at her mercy. “Wouldn’t want anyone seeing us. Unless you’re into that.”
Lingling clenched tighter around her, and Orm noticed immediately.
“Oh, you liked that,” Orm mused against Lingling’s jaw, followed by a lick and a kiss. “You into public sex, Lingling?”
Lingling’s broken moan was enough answer for Orm.
“Never would’ve thought you’re an exhibitionist,” Orm commented around a pant, still thrusting into Lingling like her life depended on it. “Or that you’d let me fuck you in a back alley with the way you kept pushing me away earlier.”
Lingling grabbed fistfuls of Orm’s hair and tugged her face towards hers, teeth sinking into Orm’s lower lip. “Fucking shut up,” she murmured against Orm’s mouth, without pulling away completely.
Orm, of course, didn’t oblige. There was something about riling Lingling up that turned the blood in her veins into molten fire. “Why? You like my voice too much? Does my voice turn you on, Lingling?”
Lingling’s breath hitched, and her pussy walls clenched around Orm’s cock in response.
Orm smirked and continued talking like she wasn’t on the brink of losing it, even though it’s only been a few minutes since they started. “God, I’d love to take you on a bed next time. Bury my face in your chest. Suck your nipples until they’re hard against my tongue. I’d talk you through it, you know? Whisper every little filthy thing I’d do to you.”
“O-Orm,” Lingling gasped when Orm punctuated her words with sharper, deeper thrusts.
“I bet you’d look so good on all fours, baby,” Orm continued, her movements getting a bit sloppier the more Lingling clung to her cock like a glove, “You’ll take whatever I give you like a good girl, won’t you?”
“Holy fuck,” Lingling gasped, her grip on Orm’s shoulders tightening, clutching harder like she’d float away if she let go. “If I’d known you’d be this good, I would’ve let you fuck me earlier.”
Despite her labored breathing and the pounding of her heart, Orm chuckled and continued to move, pushing Lingling closer and closer to the edge. “You’re driving me crazy, Lingling. You feel so good around me.”
Their eyes met—Lingling’s gaze was hooded, dark pupils eclipsing the dark brown of her eyes, pleading, begging for something her mouth was too proud to name.
“You gonna beg, Ling?” Orm teased, just because she could. Just because she wanted to see that fire in Lingling’s eyes.
And she did. Despite how utterly ruined Lingling looked with her hair askew, cheeks flushed with heat, and sweat making her skin glisten, the pride she wore like armor still burned bright in her gaze at Orm’s words. “You—ah! You wish.”
Orm grinned but didn’t slow down. She’d love to tease further, edge Lingling to the point where she was nothing but a babbling mess, but she knew their time was limited. They could get caught, and despite Lingling’s seeming interest in public sex, the last thing they needed right now was an interruption.
“Next time,” Orm said, still holding Lingling’s gaze as she fucked into her, “I’ll make you beg for it.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Lingling answered readily despite the catch in her throat.
Without another word, Orm fucked Lingling harder, deeper, messier until Lingling’s thighs were shaking around Orm’s hips, her hands grasping at Orm’s shoulders and back, and she was coming on Orm’s cock with an almost scream that Orm swallowed with a kiss.
Seeing and feeling Lingling come undone was enough for Orm—because, gods, she was amazing—and she released herself into the condom, groaning against Lingling’s mouth, her hips stuttering in their steady rhythm.
They stayed connected for a few more minutes, both trying to catch their breath and slow down the pounding of their hearts.
Orm was still inside Lingling when she asked, “So, my place next?”