Before Lucas could even begin to calm his thoughts, a sharp knock on the apartment door shattered the fragile silence. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he dragged himself toward the door. His gut already told him who it was, and sure enough—when he swung it open, Cindy stood there, leaning against the doorframe with that signature smirk of hers.
But this time… this time, she was dressed to kill.
A black hoodie, oversized and casual, but underneath, a skin-tight skirt hugged her curves in ways that made Lucas's brain short-circuit for a solid second. The hem barely reached mid-thigh, and the sheer black stockings clinging to her legs only emphasized how dangerously long and toned they were. She shifted her weight slightly, causing the soft fabric to press tighter against her hips, the movement so natural yet deliberately teasing.
Lucas swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Cindy noticed, of course. She always noticed.