Cassidy Reed

The tension in the room had shifted—not gone, but simmering just under the surface. Cassidy sat like she owned the damn chair, back straight, one leg crossed in that effortless way that made it seem like she was posing without trying.

Her blouse stretched just enough to make Parker aware of exactly how unfair genetics could be. Full. Heavy. Unreal. Like, how the hell was all of that on someone so petite? The neckline dipped just enough to tease, smooth skin catching the light, practically daring him to lose focus.

She knew. She fucking knew.

The skirt? Tight. Hugging her hips just right. And the stockings—sheer, shimmering against the curve of her thighs—led to black heels that made her legs look even longer. If she was trying to intimidate, it was working.

And yet Parker didn't break the gaze. He didn't feel any unnatural lust for Cassidy.