Dark Paradise - Joel Miller x OC

Fall

Warning: smut, again, because I'm a weak and nasty woman.

No real proofreading yet in English, sorry 'bout that.

I think there's roughly 10 chapters left after this one, thank you for still being here!

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"I look ridiculous.

-I'm sure you don't.

-You know I've worn a suit only once in my life? "

She pokes her head through the bathroom door.

"Man, you're hot smoking. I shouldn't let you go out like this, there's gonna be a riot."

He laughs, but she realizes that it's not what she says that amuses him so much, but what she looks like. He interrogates her as she returns to the bedroom, approaching the bed where her outfit is lying.

"Curlers?

-Yeah, it's the only way to get my hair right."

She answers him absent-mindedly while removing her bathrobe, revealing a set of black lace underwear. He watches her put on stockings, something he thought no one would ever do again. He can't even understand how these fine pieces of fabric have held up for twenty-something years without breaking down. God knows where Molly found them.

He swallows hard as he watches the nylon fabric move up along her uncovered thigh. As she hangs it on the garter belt, he imagines walking over to her to stroke the soft skin still exposed. To feast on the sounds he would snatch from her with his lips. He looks away and walks out of the room before his thoughts get out of hand.

He settles into the living room, grabbing a magazine before sitting down in his chair. He's already read it, but he needs to take his mind off this bedroom picture that stays impregnated in him.

After long minutes of waiting, his mouth parts when Chloe finally appears in the room. She donned a midnight blue cocktail dress from the 50s. This piece of clothe is almost ninety years old, and yet it looks like it was tailor-made for her. She smiles modestly, delighted at the effect she just had on her companion. She wants to hear it, to be sure.

"What do you think? Do I fit with your vision of a 50's housewife?

-You do."

He gets up and walks over to her. He notices that she has put on some makeup. She must have used food to achieve this result. Beetroot, perhaps, for her cheeks and lips? As for the black features underlining her eyes, he has no idea how she did them. All he knows is that she is gorgeous, her hair laid out like one of those Hollywood starlets.

"You're gorgeous Honey Girl."

She smiles and leads him to the door. It's time for them to go to church. The autumn dance and its costumes await them. He gives her his arm to walk down the streets, and anyone seeing them would have thought they were straight out of an old romantic black and white movie.

She exaggerates the movement of her hips to move the different layers of fabric that make up her outfit. He can feel her doing it and he can't help but look at her with amusement. She smiles again and sighs.

" I never want to take this dress off again.

-That might be a problem for physical work.

-But it's so pretty and fun, look how it moves."

She lets go of his arm to spin around, the skirt fluttering around her. He laughs softly before kissing her and giving her back his arm. As they approach the hall, the music and the hubbub of discussions are already heard, as the children run happily around the square.