“I’ll see you soon,” he said.
I said nothing as he left. I didn’t know what to say, but I really didn’t want him to leave. Even if nothing happened, I would have liked him to stay and wait and while I changed into new clothes he could sit on the bed, or the couch, or downstairs in the library and then we could go to dinner together.
It was silly, really. Reluctant to leave the kitchen, but knowing I had to, I went upstairs to the master bedroom. Heading to the closet to see what Jeremy had bought(and expecting a couple of outfits), I was overwhelmed. Completely empty before, save for a bunch of hangers, the closet was now utterly filled with clothes. Dresses, pants, blouses, pajamas, nightgowns, shoes lining the floor. Even a few fancy woman’s peacoats tucked off to the side on sturdy wooden hangers.
This was just for dinner, so probably nothing fancy, right? I grabbed a pair of jeans and a nice looking t-shirt. Plus, my God, I belatedly noticed a note on the back of the walk-in closet door. “More in the dresser,” it said. Going to the dresser I found pantyhose and socks and stockings and underwear, and…
I stared in one drawer, blinking. What. Jeremy left another note atop a pair of frilly, lacy red panties. Panties in as much as they would definitely cover me, except they were so lacy and small that they wouldn’t actually hide anything. Though obviously I’d wear them with pants, and… they had a matching bra? Yes, I found out as I followed more of the note’s directions. The bra hid a bit more, but barely, and it was one of those that would enhance my assets, as it were.
“Wear these,” Jeremy had written on the note. “Asher loves red.”
“You’re a troublemaker,” I said aloud, even though Jeremy obviously couldn’t hear me. “I will wear them, but not because of that. I’ll do it because I feel like it, and nothing more.”
Nothing more? Yes. That’s what I told myself.
I cleaned up and put on the lingerie, then the jeans, the shirt, and a pair of casual heels that matched the pants. There were regular shoes, but I liked the idea of having a little bit of style. The panties and bra were a part of that, yes, but no one could see those. And sitting at the table, no one would really see the heels, but they made me feel better. Sexier and more confident.
And then the time came. I went downstairs, to the guest house door, opened it, out, and started the short walk to the front door of the main house. Outside, Jeremy was leaning against the wall, toying with his phone.
He tapped some keys, gritted his teeth, tapped some more, then said, “Dammit!”
“What?” I asked, approaching him.
“Oh, nothing. Pacman. I lost. Not that I’m very good in the first place, but I was doing pretty good right there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be waiting for me? Was playing games a part of that?” I said, playful.
“Pft. You took so long that I needed to find something to do.” He looked me over, spied the heels. “So… did you?”
“Did I what?” I asked. I knew what he meant(the underwear), but I wasn’t about to dignify his absurd question with an answer.
“Come on,” he said, nodding deliberately at my chest. “Did you?”
“Excuse me, but are you flirting with me?” I asked, feigning contempt.
He laughed. “Right. You did, then. Let’s go.”
He walked to the door and opened it for me, gesturing for me to go inside. I followed and went, but not quietly.
“I did not!” I said. “How would you know, anyways?”
“I can tell by the way you’re acting. And walking around. I can just tell.”
“No you can’t,” I said, turning my nose up at him. “You’re just guessing and hoping that I’ll tell you.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. Now stop harassing me.”
“Ooohhhh.” His eyes twinkled and he grinned. “Miss Bigshot now, eh? Nice clothes, lacy, see-thru panties, fancy high heels.”
I pushed him lightly. “Shut up.”
He laughed. “Anyways, it’s this way. Come on.”
He brought me to a room the size of a basketball court. Inside, taking up most of the space, was a huge dining hall table. It looked like something that belonged in a castle, preferably owned by royalty but a major duke and duchess would do, too. Dark mahogany legs peeked out from beneath a cream-colored, silken tablecloth. I gaped at it in awe.
I stopped moving. Jeremy poked me in the shoulder a few times to prod me on, but I was still somewhat in shock. Giving up on social etiquette, he grabbed my arm and pulled me onwards to my spot at the table. Despite it being so large and taking up most of the room, only a few places were set at the far end of the table. Jeremy pulled out my chair, dumped me in it, pushed it in, and then grumbled.