Tara's green eyes flashed at her. She wore her long, chestnut

Il y a des choses que je ne peux vous dire qu'à voix basse, ça vous intéresse ?

Tara's green eyes flashed at her. She wore her long, chestnut-colored hair, highlighted with blonde balayage, parted in the middle, with two wavy strands falling well past her shoulders. Tara turned her head, holding it straight and high, the square angles of her face giving her an almost, but not quite, masculine look, softened and subdued by the feminine flesh of her fine, sharply defined bones. The flat profile of her face, broken only by the crisp, straight slope of her nose and the round mounds of her lips, narrowed to a flattened square. When she turned to face her again, the vivacity and contour of her cheeks, lips, and brows, which arched in a wide, flat arc above her green eyes, were surprising. Though not breathtakingly seductive, Tara's expressive visage had something entirely appealing about it. "She really is beautiful." Tara's dark fishnet sleeveless top, tightly hugging her chest, complemented her red and black plaid skirt, which reached up to her thigh, revealing the bare skin of her thighs and knees, before a pair of tall, shiny black leather boots hugged her calves and feet. A green pendant in the shape of a bird, a jade bird in flight, hung around Tara's neck on a thin silver chain. The bird hovered between the mounds of Tara's chest, sparkling and beautiful.

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