Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

105. Packing

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"Are you okay, honey? You sound a little nasally."

"I'm fine, darlin'," Striker answered as he took a seat beside me on the couch, putting an arm around me and planting a quick smooch on the top of my head.

I eyed him through my peripheral. "You better not be getting sick — and giving it to me."

"No offense, darlin', but if I did have somethin', I'm pretty sure you would've given it to me," he remarked. "With all the sick people you deal with."

"I wash my hands and wear masks and gloves and stuff," I retorted defensively, crossing my arms.

"Speakin' of work," he started, "I got hired for a job in Greed."

"Really?" I turned my head to look up at him. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"Prolly about two weeks," he replied. "I gotta leave in a couple days."

I nodded. "Okay," I said quietly. "I guess I should get used to this sort of thing again, huh?"

"What's that?"

I laid my head on his chest, wrapping an arm around his torso. "You leaving and being gone for days or weeks on end. . ."

Striker's hand slithered up my back to my neck, his fingers weaving into my hair. "Sorry, darlin'," he murmured, pressing his lips to my temple. "I wouldn't leave if I didn't have to."

"I know." I craned my head up to face him, then smiled and kissed him softly on the mouth.

He chuckled. "What happened to not wantin' me to get you sick?"

"If you do have something, it's probably too late, anyway," I argued. "Besides, it sounds like it might just be your sinuses acting up."

"In any case," — he smirked, grabbing hold of one of my thighs and pulling me into his lap — "I think you should help me sweat it out."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's not going to do anything if you have no fever."

"I take it that's a no, then?"

I smirked, shifting my legs until I was straddling his lap. "No," I replied and brought my lips close to his. "It's not."

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"I gotta get dressed, darlin'," Striker muttered between our kisses for the umpteenth time.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, leaning fully on his frame until he fell backwards onto the mattress. I paused and pulled away long enough to look him in the eye. "I don't want you to go."

"I know," he whispered, his fingers pushing a few strands of hair behind my ear, then gave me a small, reassuring smile. "But I'll be back before you know it."

I straddled his hips, pressing my naked body to his and kissing him slowly. "I hope so."

Striker let out a small sigh as I rocked my hips back and forth, gliding my slick folds over his re-hardening manhood. His hands travelled to my waist, and I reached down to stroke him until he was completely erect.

"(Y/N)," he said a bit firmer, "I need to go—"

"Just one more time," I pleaded against his lips, my lust quickly clouding my brain, and I brought the tip of his cock to my opening. "I just need to feel you one more time."