After everyone finished opening gifts, it took me a minute to realize that Asher didn’t get me anything. I tried not to let this hurt my feelings but it did. He loved the iPad and was still playing with it as people started leaving the living room.
“I'm going to go clean up breakfast,” I mumbled to myself. Asher hadn’t taken his eyes off his new toy since he opened it. I pulled myself up from where I was sitting between his spread legs.
“Can you throw that shit in the closet for me, baby?” he asked, not looking up from the stupid iPad. I was starting to wonder if it was water resistant.
“Sure,” I grumbled. I picked up the stuff I got him, along with the gifts I got from our families. I set my stuff on the bed then carried his crap to the closet. I debated just throwing it in there, but I didn’t want to mess it up.
After about two weeks of me being at Asher’s house, I'd cleaned out his closet, put all of his laundry away, folded his T-shirts, and hung anything that needed to be hung. I also organized all of his shoes. I loved his closet. I turned on the light without even thinking and set his new shirts on his shelf when I noticed my metal framed mannequin in the corner. I did a double take then saw a huge dressing table in the middle of the room with all my odds and ends on it, including a cool jewelry stand and a tall mirror with swirly legs that looked awesome.
Looking around, I noticed all my clothes and shoes were in his closet and there was a very cool chaise lounge chair in the corner with a small gift box sitting on top of it. My hands started shaking as I looked around, realizing that this was my Christmas gift. It was the most awesome gift that he could have ever given me.
“Do you like it?” I hear him whisper as his arms circle my waist, pulling me back against him.
I can’t talk. All I can do is nod my head. I am speechless. When I find my voice, I ask him, “When did you do this? How did you do this?”
“My guys got here a few minutes after we left yesterday. They put up the new shelves, brought in the dressing island and the chair. Your dad and grandma brought over all your stuff and set it up before heading to Ma’s for the party last night.”
“I love it,” I whisper. It was perfect. A dream closet. “Did you pick out the jewelry stand and mirror?”
I felt his silent laughter against my back. “Liz picked them out for you. When I told her what I was doing, she talked my ear off about closets the whole time I was in her store. I tell you, I don’t know what it is with women and closets, but if the stomach is the way to a man’s heart, a closet is the way to a woman’s.”
I smile and melt deeper into him. Liz has become a great friend and is slowly becoming more open with us. Except when Trevor is around, but I think that’s because he’s always growling at her. When she ignores him, it pisses him off. When she talks to him, it pisses him off, but when another guy tries to talk to her, that pisses him off even more. He normally ends up storming off, leaving Liz looking completely baffled and me laughing to myself.
With the way he looks at her, I know he is seriously into her. It's like watching a romance in the making, just waiting to see who is going to break first.
“I love this closet. I loved this closet before I even really liked you,” I tell him truthfully.
He laughs, turning me in his arms. “Now you love me.”
“Maybe, or maybe I'm using you for your closet. Did you ever think of that?” I ask, smirking up at him. He picks me up suddenly, making me squeal. Then I am on the chaise lounge with him lying on top of me. “What are you doing?” I exhale as his hand finds my breast and the other goes to the back of my thigh.
“I'm going to prove that you’re not using me for the closet,” he says, his fingers tracing the back of my thigh and around the front of my sleep shorts, slipping underneath the edge. He slowly traces my seam with his finger. My hips lift automatically, trying to get more contact.
“People are here.” I moan.
“Then you better be quiet, baby,” he whispers into my ear, his fingers running over my clit, circling twice then dipping down and filling me. I bite down on his shoulder, one hand going under his shirt to his back and the other to his bicep, holding on. “You’re so wet. Jesus, I wish I could taste you right now.”
“Please,” I beg, my face coming out of his neck. I love his mouth. I want his mouth on me.
“My greedy girl. You know I love your pussy, baby, but I can’t. The minute I get my mouth on you, I’m going to want to fuck you and I can’t do that knowing your dad’s in the next room.”
I whimper. His words are turning me on even more. His fingers slide slowly in and out, then his thumb moves over my clit and I feel myself begin to fall apart, his mouth catching my moan. I pull him closer, wrapping myself tighter around him. My eyes are squeezed shut and I can still feel myself spasming around his fingers.