I woke the next morning feeling like someone had beaten me over the head with a hammer. Repeatedly. With a groan I rolled over, feeling for a bottle of water I always kept on the bedside table but stopped short. I was not alone in my bed. To top it off, I was not alone in my bed naked.
Turning back over, I found Striker sleeping soundly beside me. From the way the blankets covered him, he was just naked as I was.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," I swore under my breath, slipping out of bed, grabbing a robe laying on the floor. Throwing it on, I tiptoed out of my bedroom and looked around. There was an empty alcohol bottle beside the couch. The throw pillows that I usually kept on the couch were carelessly tossed on the floor.
I stood there a moment, trying to wade through the mental haze to piece the memory back together. Striker and I drinking. The dare.
Sex on the couch.
After that, my mind was blank. Wandering over to the coffee maker, I began making a pot as I analyzed the clues I had. We had both wound up in bed naked, so obviously we moved things into the bedroom for another round before passing out.
I stood there, watching the coffee pot slowly fill as I chewed on my bottom lip. This complicated things drastically. We were partners purely because the job demanded it. I couldn't let myself catch feelings for Striker, it would complicate things more than they already were.
YOU ARE READING
Jaded | A Striker x Reader Story
Roman d'amourAfter your entrance into the underworld, you begin to make a living disposing of your client's cheating partners. Love is completely off the table. After all, who would be able to find true love in a place like Hell? From the author of Dancing With...
