Pria Berkacamata Hitam Novels & Stories

"Why, Felecia? Why?" Miles decided to take pity. Or maybe he was digging the hole deeper. Either way, he circled the desk and stood behind her. Bending, he saw his face in the preview frame just over Diha's shoulder. The Priya looking back at him was nearly identical to the image Diha had shown him. Her make-up was smoky, accentuating her eyes, and her face glistened. She looked like a doll. He understood Diha's worry about comparing herself to her younger sister physically. But it wasn't the packaging that had drawn him to her beyond that moment in the lobby. It was everything that made Diha unique.

“Ethan, beta! You’re finally here!” Her voice hit him before he saw her. Warm, a little husky, the kind that always made him sit up straighter as a kid. Priya walked in from the hallway wiping her hands on a dish towel, wearing a simple maroon tank top and loose black shorts that stopped high on her thighs. Her dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun, a few strands sticking to her neck from the kitchen steam. At forty-two she still looked like she could turn heads without trying—full breasts straining against the thin fabric, wide hips that swayed naturally when she moved, smooth golden-brown skin that glowed even in the dim light.