If you'd have told Robyn that she'd be head over heels for a 31 year old, married woman, she'd have laughed dead in your face. And probably cut you off while she was at it. That is, until she saw Beyoncé; the irresistible caramel goddess that just s...
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A/N: We backkkkkk. Y'all I'm sooooo sorry for leaving you high and dry like I did. BUT, I think these chapters will make up for it 😉😏
If you see a mistake, mind ya business. Vote and comment and all that good stuff
(P.S.: I reallllllyyy love y'alls comments, even if I don't be saying anything back (I'm shy 🙈), just know they be having me cheesin' hard asf. So comment a lot, please and thanks. Okay I'm done, enjoy 😊)
Fri, Feb 28 Houston, TX 9:27am
Gentle rain pattered on the rooftop as a breeze slipped in between the crevice of the open bedroom window. Faint bouts of thunder rumbled in the distance behind rolling clouds, magnifying the serene ambiance around the house. Despite the fact that the atmosphere was relatively still, Beyoncé was everything but.
As she twisted around for the hundredth time this morning, she struggled to get into even a semi-comfortable position. And any semblance of hope she had held to get even a wink of sleep, completely melted away when a monstrous crack of thunder violated what little peace she had. Not that there was really any peace to begin with.
You could say that Beyoncé had...a lot of pent up frustration over the past week, and it was starting to weigh on her.
Not even fifteen minutes ago, she'd awoken from a very vivid dream of involving the main person she should not have been dreaming about. Green eyes haunted her, in the most delicious way. Traveling over her body adoringly, just the same as her hands. In her late night fantasies, the younger woman knew exactly where and how to touch to make the blonde's body react just for her. Make her tremble with the slightest contact. And she had shocked herself awake when she found herself moaning the girl's name.
The shit had felt so real, to the point where she almost could feel herself teetering on the edge, being one more torturous touch away from her river overflowing.
