Bøker av Clodette Yarves

I watched with curious eyes as he spoke animately to the women nextHis wife. I assume.She's pretty, actually, correction; She was fucking gorgeous. However, nothing in comparison to my young, dirty, sinful self.I watched as he put his arm around her. She laughed, her eyes quickly surveying the crowd, hoping no one could hear their conversation. I watched as the beautiful Italian man whispered something in her ear, something sexual probably. A green fire grew inside me as I watched both of them, happy and in love.I gripped the flute of champagne in my manicured hands tightly. Almost wishing I could chuck it at her perfect face.Almost.