One Last Look

The last time she'd lay eyes on him

 The knock at the door jolted her from a semi-coma state. She'd fallen asleep on her sofa watching reruns of Parks and Rec.

"Are you still watching?" The screen displayed. Apparently she'd slept so long that Netflix thought she may have died. The sunlight streaming through her curtains told her she'd been there all night.

She threw the blanket off and bolted up, yawning with a stretch. Her intercom never buzzed and she wasn't one for neighborly visits. In fact, Tori couldn't even recall her next door neighbors name. She'd love to blame it on the fact that she'd only been living there a short time, but she had, in fact, been there six months.

I really should get to know my neighbors. Her brow furrowed as she walked toward her door.

"Who is it?" Tori called out.

"Delivery for you, Miss Johnson."

She frowned, not recognizing the thick, foreign accent coming from the other side. Typically the front desk would call first. She hoped her intercom wasn't busted. She reached into her purse on the table next to the door and popped in a piece of gum. The last thing she wanted to do was greet the doorman with morning breath.

She let out a reluctant sigh, unhooked the chain, and flung open the door, gnawing on the wad of gum.

Her eyes bulged and she gasped. Scott Harris stood leaned against the frame, in all his six foot three glory with that damn, devilish, sideways smirk plastered on his face.

"Miss me?" His grin grew wider, still using the false accent, popping that dimple of his. His chocolate eyes warmed as he twirled her pink, lacy thong around his forefinger.

A megawatt grin passed over her face and she squealed, and lunged toward him, jumping into his arms, practically knocking him over.

"Woah." He laughed as he grabbed her ass—pulling her in tight and steadying himself as she wrapped her legs snugly around him. "I'll take that as a yes."

Her grip tightened around his thick neck as her cheek grazed his beard. She pulled back and planted her lips to his. He opened his mouth and accepted her tongue as she offered it to him. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he nibbled on her bottom lip.

They continued to kiss with her in his arms as he walked through her door and kicked it shut behind him. Without even a word he carried her to the bedroom and tossed her down to the mattress, discarding her panties to her nightstand, his payment for the fuck he was about to receive.

This was her thing she started years ago. One night they met in a dump dive in Georgetown—back when she was in college. She drank him under the table, kicked his ass in a game of pool and sneakily put her booze on his tab all night. As payment for her theft she'd slid her panties into his pocket and sent him on a wild goose chase, starting the longest, most epic game of cat and mouse ever to be played between two lovers.

Every time he'd leave on deployment she'd slide another pair in his pocket and every time he'd return them. It was a game she never wanted to end.

He grabbed his shirt at the back of his neck and with one swift yank it was off, revealing that glorious chiseled torso adorned in ink. Her mouth watered looking at him. Moisture filled her panties that were about to go up in flames. The man was all muscle. She loved every ridge and angle of that hard body. Tori began ripping her clothing off at a record pace.

His deep brown eyes turn vibrant with desire, every muscle contracting with each ragged, needy, breath. His gaze raked her up and down, hungry, feral.