Climbing off the bed, she passed Junker to go around the couch to Strike’s side. “You were having s*x with her?”
Strike held up his hands in innocence. “Didn’t get as far as s*x, didn’t intend to… didn’t let her know that.”
Snatching the beer out of his hand, Rora bent over to slam the bottle onto the table. Strike took advantage of the opportunity she’d inadvertently presented to him and snuck a hand under her camisole to touch the lace edging of her panties on her a*s. Rora swatted his hand, catching it and twisting it around to link her fingers between his. But she wasn’t being affectionate, or even familiar, she made him turn and then thrust him down onto the couch.
Kneeling on the couch at his side, facing him, Rora pulled at his eyelids to open them wider. “Why are you drinking be
