The Wrong House, Right Vibe

Adira was bored out of her skull when that cute idiot Gunnar knocked on her door by accident. She opened up, eyes locked on him, already grinning like she'd found her fun. 'Tony's just out,' she lied, voice sweet as sin, pulling him inside with a coy little smirk. He tried to back out but she was already brushing his chest, fingers drifting lower, teasing the hell out of him until he forgot how to speak. Hands on her hips, then under her skirt, suddenly they were at it—hot, frantic, clothes half on. He slammed into her, gripping tight, and she rode that rush like it was the only cure for her boredom. After he finished, she hopped off, fixed her hair, and dropped it with a wicked grin: 'Tony? Lives next door.'