My Girlfriend's Wardrobe Novels & Stories

she asked with her eyes closed, already tilting her head so I could kiss her neck. "Oh, we're going to inventory everything! It'll be the best inventory of your life!" I joked and she laughed. "Now come here." I ran my hand along her thigh and pulled her onto my lap. The short, one-shoulder fuchsia dress rode up more than would be advisable in public, revealing the nudity of her skin underneath. My girlfriend kept her promises: she had bought an indecent little dress to wear for me and was without panties, which drove me crazy.

Beside the clothes already present in the wardrobe, the wardrobe had the ability to produce the clothes the person standing in front of it wished to wear. The wardrobe was not only a collection of attire and adornments but a gateway to self-expression and transformation. It whispered of endless possibilities and the power of imagination. Each garment held a story, waiting to be worn and brought to life by the wearer. It encouraged confidence and encouraged individuals to embrace their unique beauty and embrace the magic within.

I swung the closet doors and mu eyes swam across the rows of fancy dresses. It was a sea of elegant, beautiful, and utterly predictable gowns. Black, navy, charcoal, silver. The uniform of a billionaire's girlfriend. God, I was so sick of being managed. My fingers brushed over the fabrics, this hot resentment bubbling up in me. I'm not some quiet, respectable accessory. I'm fire. I'm trouble personified. Nothing suit the battlefield taste, I was about shutting the door when I saw it, tucked at the very end of the rack.

I turned back to find her eyeing me speculatively. "So, I have to ask...who is that lovely young lady you're here with today?" she inquired, pulling out the scanner and began ringing up the items. A proud smile tugged at my lips. "That's my beautiful girlfriend, Ella. We're prepping for a big dance coming up." The woman made a soft humming sound as she packed the final gown into a box. "She must really love the dresses from this boutique," she mused. I felt my brow furrow slightly. "What do you mean by that exactly?"

I don’t want her dressed like the other wives. “I didn’t exactly fit in today.” She plucks at her oversized T-shirt, then gestures to the skirt I’m pretty sure she told me her mother brought over from Greece. “I think you look wonderful,” I say, trying to figure out why I don’t want my gorgeous girlfriend in sexier clothes. She snorts. “Tell Nicky that.”

“Which makes it a date.” I don’t even bother arguing. Instead, I glare as she rifled through my closet like she’s searching for buried treasure. “You need something cute,” she muttered. “I have cute things,” I say. She shot me a look. “Cora, most of your wardrobe is oversized sweaters and jeans.” “…And?” She sighed dramatically, finally pulling out a dress I forgot I even had. I don't know how she keeps doing that honestly. “This. Wear this.” I scowled. “Too much.”

“Don’t act like it’s not your fault I’m even in this mess. You gave me a dress that’s too small. What did you expect? Did you forget that I’m pregnant? Or maybe you just don’t care.” I clutched the gown tightly to my chest, glaring at him. You can check inside the wardrobe for comfortable clothes to wear,” Kaden said, ignoring what I had said. I didn’t say a word back to him and walked to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. When I opened it, I saw shirts, joggers, and some sweaters and from the scent surrounding me, I could tell that all of them belonged to Kaden. I let out a small sigh, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to wear something.

She purred seductively. Finn wrapped an arm around my shoulder, “my girlfriend needs a party dress. Cost isn’t an issue.” The snooty woman frowned but begrudgingly offered me a tight smile, “yes of course, what size are you, like a sixteen?” “Eight, thank you. My chest though is a 36 DD, so I size up,” I looked at her flat chest and smirked as she turned red. Take that bitch! Finn coughed next to me as he tried to stifle a laugh and for once, I didn’t feel bad being petty. Frankly, she deserved it.

My bedroom looked like a department store had exploded inside it. "Mr. Wolfe requested a full wardrobe‚" Colette said‚ tapping something on her tablet. "Day wear‚ evening‚ casual‚ formal‚ intimates‚ sleepwear‚ shoes‚ accessories. Everything's been pulled based on the sizing he provided‚ and we have a seamstress downstairs if anything needs adjusting."

Before I could stop myself, I tapped the message. It opened to a group chat filled with Fred Thompson's usual circle of friends. My hands shook as I scrolled up. [Everyone else is out. There are just Hannah and Ayla left. One's your official girlfriend, while the other's your new favorite secretary. Final round, man.] [I'm betting on Hannah. She's been with you five years; she's sweet, obedient, and yeah, she's got a great body. Perfect wife material.]