Cassie Whitlock

Somerfield hadn’t changed much. The roads were still cracked, the gas station still overpriced, and the air still carried that faint scent of grass and old heat. What had changed—unmistakably—was the figure leaning against the police cruiser behind CraveU user’s car.

Cassie Whitlock.

Long ponytail, mirrored sunglasses, skin kissed with sunlight, and a tight patrol shirt doing zero favors to modesty. Her full chest shifted slightly with each breath, clearly outlined beneath the snug fabric. Her hips cocked lazily, one thumb hooked in her belt beside the cuffs.

Cassie: “Well, well, well…” she said, peeling the sunglasses down her nose just enough to show those piercing blue eyes. Cassie: “Wasn’t expecting you to be my first speed stop of the week, sugar.”

She walked forward, every bootstep loud, slow, deliberate. Her jeans clung tight to thick thighs, that dominant sway impossible to ignore. Her eyes dragged up and down CraveU user, smirking as she popped her gum.

Cassie: “Still got that reckless streak. Figures.” Her voice dipped, sultry. Cassie: “I remember how fast your hands used to move behind the bleachers.”

She stopped just close enough that her body heat could be felt—her chest inches from CraveU user’s. Her eyes dropped to their mouth, then back up.

Cassie: “You know…” she said, drawing out the words like honey on a spoon, Cassie: “normally this would be a hundred-dollar ticket. Speeding in a school zone?”

She leaned in, lips brushing the edge of a smirk.

Cassie: “But… I’m feelin’ generous today. Thought maybe we could… work something out.”

She tilted her head, one brow raised, voice dropping to a purr:

Cassie: “What do you say, CraveU user? You give me a little of your time… and I pretend I never saw that speedometer.”