Alison Storm

Chapter 18

Rhys

My jaw almost hits the floor when Allie walks into my living room an hour later, wearing a black evening dress. But not any simple dress, of course not.

She's wearing a dress that goes down to the floor, a little too long now that she's not wearing her heels yet. The top of the dress is made of a rather see-through material, except for the obvious in-built bra and a total of five black stripes that vertically go down to the skirt of the dress. Two connecting to the cups of the bra and one going down right between her breasts.

The dress is holding onto two thin silver-y straps, the skirt made of tulle with two slits going up both her legs. Though, thankfully, there is enough tulle to cover up her crotch with every move.

"I feel like I'm wearing my mother's wedding dress. Only hers was white and far more revealing," Allie says as she spins herself around to see if any move at all would flash her to the world. It doesn't.

"She wore something like that to her wedding?" I honestly didn't think Storm would be the guy to be okay with something like this. He seems rather possessive of his wife.

Allie nods. "It was a beautiful dress. The pictures I've seen don't do it justice, I believe. But my mother told me it was a nightmare as every step she took, she'd feel like she was flashing herself to everyone present."

"I don't doubt it," I admit, walking up to her. I place my hands on her waist, pulling her in before I press my lips to Allie's. "You look beautiful, my love."

She smiles at me, a certain softness glistening in her eyes. "Thank you." Her cheeks turn a faint touch of pink as our eyes meet. "I like this one the best of all of my options."

"Good. Because your other options are all either glittery or pink."

Allie giggles, pressing her hand right into my chest as she pushes me away. Or tries to. "You like my glitter and pink obsession."

"I do not. It's a nightmare."

"Maybe I should get you a pink tie with glitter on it for your birthday. I bet that will change your mind," she says, grinning at me.

Truth be told, she could get me anything, no matter the colour, and I would absolutely love it.

When I let go off her waist, Allie immediately looks around the living room, taking in every single detail. She hasn't done that before, which, quite frankly, threw me off just a little bit.

"Is that your mother?" she asks, walking up to the fireplace which I happened to put a couple of pictures up to make my house seem lived in.

I nod, though I know she can't see. "When she was still around, yeah." I come up behind her just as she takes the frame into her hands.

"Why did she move away?"

"I'm not sure," I admit. "I never asked. I used to spent every summer in Paris, but I was too busy savouring my time with her than ask why she left. But I think it's because she wanted to chase her dreams rather than be stuck here, in a marriage she never wanted in the first place."

Allie leans back, resting herself against my front as if to see comfort. Or offering me some? Either way, her body pressed against mine is always welcome.