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Lamborghini <ai>

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Lamborghini - Ashton Irwin

"Lamborghini or Ferrari?"
Startled, you look up at Ashton, his fingers resting on the mouse attached to his shiny laptop. You toss your magazine onto the coffee table between you and pull yourself to your feet, walking around to peer over his shoulder.
"What do you mean?" You press your hands against his shoulder blades and softly rub the tense muscles, Ashton's lips parting as he groans, the knots in his back slowly lessening.
"I wanna buy you a present. So, Lamborghini or Ferrari?"
You look down at the screen and see two beautiful cars, both of them costing so much you feel guilty even considering it.
"Neither, they cost too much." Ashton rolls his eyes and shakes his head, his slender fingers twitching on the mouse.
"No such thing as too much, sweetheart, not for you."
A faint blush spreads across your cheeks as you ponder for a moment. You lean a little further across his shoulders and adjust your hands so they're slung around his neck, his back pressed against your front.
"What did I do to deserve it?" Ashton chuckles, his silky locks tumbling back. He reaches up and takes your hands in his, bringing the knuckles to his lips and pressing a series of delicate kisses across the sensitive skin.
"Nothing in particular, you've just been really good to me recently." You hum, understanding his way of thinking. The arrangement between you both has always been pretty simple; you provide him with as much company and pleasure he wants and in return he gives you pretty much anything you desire.
"Then I want the Lamborghini, please." His face splits into a smile as he selects the expensive car and rolls through the checkout.
Ashton always feels better- happier, when he's gifted you something. It's one of the many things that he does to make you feel appreciated and you certainly aren't complaining. One of the many perks of dating an insanely wealthy CEO is the many monetary benefits that get transferred into your bank account every month.
"It'll get here tomorrow." You beam at his words and lean down to press a thankful kiss against the stubble of his jaw, letting your lips linger a little longer than usual.
After a moment of running your hands across his collar you pull back and mess with his hair. Ashton grumbles and returns his attention to the shining laptop, work looming for the rest of the evening.
To express gratitude for the surprising gift you treat him to a special home-cooked dinner, with you as desert.

By the time you wake up the next morning the spot beside you is empty, the sheets crumpled together and a post-it note taped to the pillowcase. Slightly groggy from the disturbed sleep you reach across and pick it up, squinting as you try to read it in the dim morning light.
I got called into work- emergency meeting. I don't know when I'll be back xx
You smile at the swirling cursive and gently bring the paper to your nose, inhaling the familiar scent of fresh cologne. After realising it's past eleven and you should probably begin to get ready for the day, you pull yourself out of the insanely comfortable bed and plod into the changing room.
You'd never really had anything constant before Ashton. Sure, you'd had a few flings here and there, but nothing was serious and nothing ever felt right. But ever since the day Ashton stumbled into you whilst you were waitressing at a cafe, your life seemed to finally fit together.
The dazzling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling cast dozens of glinting fragments across the room as you riffle through your wardrobe, rows upon rows of designer clothes merging together. You settle on a conveniently light dress that ends mid-thigh and pair it with some flats.
When you arrive downstairs you see a note directing you to the fridge, a plate of eggs freshly made and waiting. You wait for that to heat up and scroll through your phone- also courtesy of Ashton.
Once you've devoured your food and finished getting ready it's just gone one and approaching Ashton's lunch break. You decide to throw together some sandwiches and text him to let him know you'll be delivering lunch to his office.
You take extra care to meticulously cut the bread into even triangles and spend a little too much time decorating the drab, brown bag with permanent marker. Boris, your slightly erratic driver, agrees to take you into Ashton's office and so you enjoy the air-conditioned interior of the leather car.
All Ashton's employees know who you are, it's pretty hard not to, really. With the amount of time he spends talking about you they practically know you better than yourself.
The quiet hum of elevator music passes by as you travel up to the 67th floor, stopping every few minutes to let on more passengers. When you get out of the lift the subtle sounds of your shoes against the polished marble is pretty much the only sound coming from the floor.
His assistant buzzes you in and you shoot her a grateful smile, pushing open Ashton's door and closing it softy behind you.