TEN YEARS EARLIER
Scott stared at the book, the words blurring on the page. His buddies had left the academy over thirty minutes ago, and he was kicking himself for not going with them. One rare weekend they get an overnight pass, and he’d said no, further instilling his reputation as the most disciplined midshipman. Making SEAL would be tough, and odds were most wouldn’t make the cut. He had no plans on being on the wrong side of the axe when it came down. He was working his ass off, and it was costing him every bit of free time, which wasn’t much to begin with.
What’s wrong with me?
He was about to go cross-eyed, and nothing was sinking in. Fuck it. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt. He rubbed his tired eyes, slammed the book shut, and called a cab.
Their normal place to drink was a dive bar in Georgetown, picked for its proximity to the university, which meant drunk, hot college chicks. It was a shit hole, but they were military guys and didn’t need much. It had a twenty-five-cent jukebox full of great nineties music. There, they could shoot darts, watch football, and play pool while getting wasted for next to nothing.
“Well,” Jones hollered as Scott waltzed in the door, “look who graced us with his presence!” he teased. “The Golden Boy has come out to play.” Scott took a seat as Jones slapped him on the back.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Forty-five-minute cab ride to this dump, only to get harassed by you clowns. Now shut up and let’s drink.” Scott waived his hand, flagging the waitress down.
“Tell me what you have on tap.”
She rattled off a list of beers and he settled for a Shiner.
“Beer? Oh, come on, Harris. You can do better than that. Live a little,” Jones said.
“And shots of whiskey for all,” he added, giving Jones a glare for not letting him finish his own damn order. He could drink those guys under the table. It took a lot for his six-foot-three frame to get buzzed. These fools were about to see who could hold their liquor better.
“Hell yeah,” Jones said.
The men loved to get him wasted to break his composure. It also didn’t hurt that he was a fun drunk.
“You got it, honey.” The server gave him a wink and came back several minutes later with their drinks and doled them out.
“Boys, to a night we’ll never forget.” Scott raised his glass. “Or, even better—one we do.” He grinned, then downed the shot, chasing it with a swig of beer.
They sat there for some time, eating greasy food, watching football, laughing, and shooting the shit with each other. He was glad he came. He needed this.
“Who’s up for pool?” Scott stood from the table, chugging the last of his drink.
“I’m down.” Jones stood.
A few of the other guys followed them to the pool table. The rest stayed behind to watch the game and hit on the waitress with the big knockers.
Jones grabbed the cues as Scott racked the balls.
“Hey!” a girl’s raspy voice shouted at him. “Haven’t you ever heard of ladies first? I paid for that game, ya know!” A small hand swatted at his. He glanced down at the gypsy-looking hand touching his with dark red fingernails and several silver rings. His gaze followed the arm up to a girl staring at him with a feisty grin plastered across her face.
She’s hot. Really. Fucking. Hot.
Scott suspected she was too young to be in the bar but pretty enough the bartenders looked the other way. Her long blond waves cascaded far past her bare shoulder.
“Well?” Her plump, pink lips curved around in a wide, mischievous smile.
“Sorry. We got here first,” Scott gave a lopsided smirk. “You ladies will have to wait your turn.” Normally, Scott was a gentleman and would have let the women have the table, but with her challenging stare, he wanted to see how this played out. His eyes bounced from her to her friends. The group reminded him of the beatnik weirdo’s back home in Austin. A few were cute, but they paled in comparison. He set his sights back on her.
“Or, I could play you for the table.” She planted her hands on her hips, raising a challenging brow. Her big, icy blue doe eyes taunted him—the man towering over this tiny, little thing by nearly a foot.
Scott’s laugh bellowed through the bar. “You could try, sweetheart.” He was an excellent pool player; nobody could beat him.
Her smile grew even wider, which he hadn’t thought was possible. “Sweetheart?” she said with a southern twang, poking at his accent. As much as he’d tried to get rid of that drawl, it still crept up on occasion. Scott sensed she liked it from the buttery grin plastered on her face.
“Come on, you and me. Winner takes the table for the entire night.” She hopped onto the green felt, giving him no other option. “Unless you don’t think you have the skills…” she dared him with a shrug of the arms.
“Ok.” He chalked his cue. “Winner takes all.” He turned to his buddies. “Get me a shot. I play better the more I drink.”
“Make it two, boys,” she called over her shoulder, flashing two fingers. She glanced back to Scott and carelessly tossed her hair as her legs swung back and forth off the side of the table. “I also play better drunk.”
She was so damn adorable he could hardly stand it. “Ok then. Let’s see what you’re made of. You go ahead and break.” He nodded toward the table, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
She hopped down and grabbed her cue. He leaned against the wall and watched her.
“Better saddle up, Cowboy,” she said.
Oh, how I’d love to. I bet she’s one hell of a ride.
She leaned over the table far enough that her tits spilled out of her tank top. He knew she did that to distract him, and it worked. He admired her cleavage as she made a nice tripod with her left hand and broke. She got a striped ball in on her first move.
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow as if to say “Told you so.”
“Anyone can get one in on the break,” Scott cocked his head to the side, “but not bad.”
“Not bad? I’ll show you not bad,” she grumbled. She sank three more striped balls, one right after the other, finally missing her fourth shot.
“Your lucky streak came to an end.” He pushed her out of the way with his hip. “Move over now, and I’ll show you how it’s done.” He sank two in right off the bat and missed his third, and he cursed himself internally for looking like a schmuck.
“So, I got four and you got two…” Her eyes flicked upward, and she tapped her finger on her lips, as if she was counting. “If I calculate correctly, I’m currently leading.” She waltzed over to him and bumped him with her hip. “Move over now and I’ll show you how it’s done,” she mocked in a low voice.
They played for some time, continually teasing each other. Scott quickly realized this girl knew what she was doing and he may have met his match. At that point, he couldn’t have cared less if she beat him. This was about far more than a pool game. The booze and his primal instincts were taking over. He wanted to take that teeny, little thing, throw her over his shoulder, and ravage her body.
“Well, Cowboy, it’s your shot.” She nodded to the table, breaking him from his trance.
He leaned over the table. The balls were lined up perfectly. He just needed to sink that eight ball. He drew back the stick and tried to focus, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught her bending over the jukebox, her thong poking out of her jeans. Aerosmith’s “Sweet Emotion” poured out of the speakers. That sultry, opening guitar lick practically screamed sex. She was playing dirty—and it worked. He missed the damn shot.
She had one last ball. She lined up, hit low, and set a nice spin on the cue, following through her ball to the corner pocket. She was set up perfectly for the final shot. It took no effort for her to sink the eight ball into the pocket for the win.
“I’ll take that.” She yanked the cue stick from his hand. “Sorry boys,” she shouted over her shoulder to his friends, “you’ll have to play pool another night.” She turned to her friend. “This is for you.” She tossed the other stick to her friend with the pink hair and nose ring. She spun back around and re-racked the balls.
Scott came over and invaded her space. “So that’s all I get?”
“You lost. A bet is a bet.” She strutted away, taking a swig of her beer, but he could see her glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
“How about the name and number of the first person ever to beat me at a game of pool?” He moved closer to her, his body nearly touching hers. He scratched his temple as he waited for her response.
She tilted her head, crossed her arms, and those steel blue eyes looked him up and down.
“I suppose.” She pursed her lips. She grabbed a pen from her purse and pulled the cap off with her teeth, yanking Scott’s hand toward her. The touch of her soft skin against his made the hair on his neck prickle. She scrawled her number across his muscular forearm and signed the name Tori next to it, dotting her i with a heart. “This is my mobile.” Tori turned around and went back to her pool game.
He sat with his friends and ordered another beer, but he couldn’t stop watching her from across the room. He could tell she was wild, but something about her captivated him. Maybe it was because she didn’t fawn all over him like other girls. Maybe it was because she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him. Whatever it was, Tori wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number on his arm. He watched as she walked over to the table where her purse lay. “Hello?” she answered.
“Tori, this is Scott.” He locked his eyes firmly on her. “You know, the guy you gave an ass-kicking to tonight at the bar.”
“Oh, yes. I remember now.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned, and a slow smile crept across her face. “Isn’t there some sort of three-day rule guys have about calling girls?”
“I’m not most guys.” He let that hang for a moment. “I was thinking I’d like to buy you a drink.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrow. “I thought you already bought me several. In fact, Scott,” she took a swig of her beer and stared at it, “this beer I’m drinking, I put on your tab.” She raised it from across the bar and showed it to him.
I like the way she says my name.
“Well you dirty, little thief. I think you’re going to have to find a way to pay me back.”
Tori tilted her head and laughed obnoxiously. “Ok, let me see what I can scrape together.” She hung up.
Scott continued chatting with the guys. When he looked up again, she was nowhere in sight. The little cocktease scammed him for the free drinks and skipped out. He knew she was trouble the moment he laid eyes on her. Live and learn.
He darted his gaze to the scores flashing on the TV. UT had kicked Oklahoma’s ass. He’d missed the entire game. Final score, 45-12. Hell yeah. Take that, Sooners.
A hand touched his shoulder, and before he could turn, Tori’s raspy voice was whispering in his ear. Her long hair fell over his shoulder, causing a shiver of excitement to surge through him. The smell of her shampoo and perfume filled his nostrils. The scent was sweet and spicy at the same time, nothing fruity or flowery like most girls wore. It was dark, exotic, and sexy. His mouth watered, craving her kiss.
“I’m putting my panties in your back pocket.” Her hand slid into the ass of his jeans. “You have until two a.m. to get them back to me. If you do, you will be paid back. Handsomely,” she added in a throaty whisper. “I’m in one of the freshman dorms on Georgetown campus. Good luck.” She patted him on the shoulder and walked out the door with her friends.
Well, damn. She’d made her intentions clear.
He looked at his watch. It was around eleven thirty, so he had plenty of time. Now he didn’t have to spend the next two hours chatting her up to get in her pants. He despised that ruse. It seemed Tori did, as well, which almost made him want to spend the next few hours talking to her. He stayed at the bar for another hour then decided to chase after her. She was hot, and it seemed like she’d be a hell of a fuck.
He arrived on campus around one a.m. and found the freshman dorms easily. It was an old building with six floors to search. All he had was her name and what she looked like. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find her. A hot girl like her? Someone had to know where she was. It was a co-ed dorm, so access to the building was a piece of cake. He snuck right in behind a group of drunk guys coming home for the night.
He asked a few people where she would be. Nobody seemed to know a girl named Tori. What the ever-loving hell? Was she sending him on a wild chase for nothing?
He got to the third floor and leaned against the wall in frustration. He was about to give up until his eyes caught something. Across from him, on a bulletin board, was the college newspaper. Tori’s photo was front and center in a piece about the Art Club on campus. He yanked the paper down and skimmed the article. Underneath her photo, the caption read, Victoria Johnson. “Victoria,” he mumbled. Sneaky little gal gave him her nickname. He should have figured Tori was short for Victoria. He’d blame that stupidity on the liquor.
This girl was making him work for it, just in her own twisted way. The game she was playing had his heart racing in anticipation, making it even more fun.
A group of girls walked by, chatting in the hall. He grabbed one of them on the shoulder. “Hey, do you know this girl?” He showed the paper to her. “I’m looking for her.”
“And why should I tell you?” she said suspiciously. “I don’t recognize you from this dorm.”
He flashed a winning smile, popping that dimple that made the girls melt. “I have something of hers I need to return. I’d like to make sure that she gets it.” He added more of his southern drawl to ramp the charm up a notch.
The girl folded her arms like she wasn’t buying it, but reluctantly, she gave in. “She’s up on the fourth floor. Fourth room on the right.”
Scott folded the paper and put it in his back pocket, deciding to keep it as a souvenir—if nothing more than to brag to the boys about the night he was about to have with this insanely hot girl.
“Thanks.” He checked his watch. It was one forty-five. He’d stayed at the bar for far too long, assuming she’d be an easy find. He darted up the stairwell to the next floor, found the room, and knocked.
She answered wearing nothing but a cute pair of cotton panties and a tank top without a bra. She thrust her boobs forward, her erect nipples poking through the fabric. His pants grew a tad bit tighter looking at her choice of apparel. She leaned against the doorjamb with her hand above her head, which raised the shirt, exposing her toned tummy, belly ring, and rose tattoo scrawling her hip. His mouth went dry. Lord have mercy.
“Hello Victoria,” he said, placing emphasis on her full name. He pulled the red, lacy thong out of his back pocket and twirled it around his forefinger.
She smiled devilishly. “I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you I go by Victoria here at school. I reserve Tori for the special people.”
“Then I guess I should be honored, Tori.”
She opened the door all the way, inviting him in. He was tired of playing games and flirting, and she made her intentions clear. He grabbed her fiercely and planted his lips to hers, stealing the kiss he’d been craving all night. She didn’t object. In fact, she reciprocated by jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as her tongue lapped across his, drinking him in as if she’d been wandering for days in the desert. He carried her over to the bed and threw her down on the squeaky mattress.
He grabbed his shirt at the back of the neck and tore it off with a quick tug. She grinned wickedly, and heat flashed through her eyes at the sight of his muscular torso. Stripping off his jeans, he mounted her. His fingers wrapped around the bottom of her slinky tank top. He showered kisses along her belly as he lifted it, exposing her ample tits that were flush with desire. His strong hand cupped her breast and took her perfect, pink nipple into his mouth. Her back arched as she moaned out in pleasure. Tori discarded her tank top to the floor as he pulled down her panties with one swift yank.
She grabbed a condom out of her nightstand, offering it to him. “Safety first.” She grinned. He obliged. It seemed Tori had been around the block once or twice, and he wasn’t one for taking chances.
“Now, give me that cock.” She tugged on him.
“Not yet.” As much as he was ready to be inside her, she’d been taunting him all night; it was time for him to tease her a bit. He reached between her legs. She was soaking wet. He started with one finger, then worked up to two, pressing deep inside her. She gasped, her plump lips parting into a sultry moan as he finger-fucked her. He licked the thumb of his left hand, then rubbed her clit in circles, working her into a frenzy. Tori clung to the pillow and bit into it to muffle her screams as she writhed in his grasp. Her body quivered and shook under him.
Now that she was completely sated, it was his turn. He thrust into her. Girls were always so much tighter right after they came, so his intentions were not completely selfless.
She pulled him close to her, her bare breasts grazing his chest as her nails dug into his back. “Harder,” she urged.
Oh, fuck yes.
He rocked his hips faster, pushing in deep. He was not gentle, but she didn’t seem to mind one bit. He grabbed a fistful of her platinum locks. She grinned wickedly in acceptance of him getting rough with her as he pounded that pussy with everything he had. As his climax grew close, he slowed for the final few thrusts, holding on to the last bit of pleasure. Tori clenched her pussy tight on his cock, which made him blow his load. His chest tightened as he turned his head and closed his eyes, the orgasm ripping through his body. She squeezed her muscles around his sensitive cock and he jolted. She grinned like a madwoman and laughed so loud it practically rattled the walls. God, he’d enjoyed her laugh all evening. To others, it may have been obnoxious, but to him, it was wild, free, and uninhibited. His body finally relaxed, and they collapsed in a sweaty pile on top of her small dorm bed.
A content smile passed across her face. “You fuck better than you play pool. A lot better.”
He chuckled. “How old are you, anyway?” He’d guessed eighteen or nineteen since she was a freshman.
“Twenty.”
“Did you flunk out of grade school or something?” he snickered.
She slugged him in the shoulder and giggled. “I took a year off and went to Europe to study art, you ass.”
God, that sounded so East Coast yuppie to him.
“Damn, your folks must be loaded.”
“Not in the slightest.” Tori gave him a fevered stare that said, don’t even go there.
Scott looked at her curiously. College wasn’t cheap. “Then how?”
She tilted her head to the side and was quiet for a long moment. Her brows furrowed as if she was waging some huge, internal war on what to say. “Dad’s dead, mom’s an addict. Thankfully, he’d set me up a small trust that my mom couldn’t get her nasty paws on. I used that. Got grants and scholarships here that paid for everything else.”
Well damn. He was sorry he’d asked, and even more shocked at the response. He’d had her pegged all wrong.
She pulled a joint from her drawer and lit it. “Want some?” she coughed as she exhaled.
“I’ll pass.” He shook his head. Even if it wouldn’t get him expelled from the academy, it wasn’t his thing. He’d only smoked pot a few times in his life. Tori shrugged as if to say whatever as she inhaled.
She stood and switched the CD into her stereo—naked. The sight of that made him almost want to go for round two with her, but he was pretty sure the girl had just broken his cock.
Scott looked around the tiny dorm. There was another bed, but whoever shared it with her was gone for the evening. Her room was messy; dirty clothes were strewn about everywhere on her side. Even her walls were cluttered with charcoal drawings and paintings. Tori wasn’t a very tidy person. Her disheveled room was a far cry from his tidy barracks.
Her hips rocked back and forth to the whiney music that sounded like it should be played in a hippie drum circle. “What the heck are we listening to?”
“The Shins.” She sucked on the joint and gave him a side-eye.
“Weren’t you playing Aerosmith earlier?”
“I listen to a little of everything,” she coughed. “Depends on my mood.”
“Art major?” He admired the drawings along her wall. She may be a slob with questionable taste in music, but she had talent.
“How’d you figure that one out?” She wrinkled her nose as she took another hit and swayed to the melody. “Yes, I am. Haven’t decided what my medium is yet. I do a little of everything. Right now, I’m really digging charcoal and paint.” She waved her hand with the smoldering joint to the art on the wall.
He turned his head. On the dresser was a photo of her and a cute teenage girl that looked like her.
“Sister?” He wanted to know more about this girl.
“Yep.” She walked over to her desk, still nude, and placed the joint on the edge of the table, making him nervous it would roll off. Tori didn’t seem to give a care.
She picked up a drawing pad and a piece of charcoal, plopped into the chair, and propped one leg up, laying the pad across her thigh. Her hand scratched as her eyes darted back and forth to him and the paper. Every so often, she would stop and take another hit on her joint. He was suddenly very aware he was still naked and apparently, her muse. His eyelids grew heavy, and he closed them for a moment.
He awoke to the sunlight coming through the room, unaware he’d fallen asleep. Tori was gone. She’d draped his clothes on the desk chair, and a pair of lacy, white panties hung out of his back pocket. Lying next to his clothing was her nude drawing of him, which was quite impressive, with a Post-it attached.