Текст книги "Fifty Shades of Grey"
Автор книги: Erika Leonard James
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 28 страниц) [доступный отрывок для чтения: 12 страниц]
down at me, his eyes gleaming. He puts on the condom. I watch fascinated, mesmerized.
“How niceis this?” he says as he strokes himself.
“I meant it as a joke,” I whimper. Please fuck me, Christian.
He raises his eyebrows as his hand moves up and down his impressive length.
“A joke?” His voice is menacingly soft.
“Yes. Please, Christian,” I beseech him.
“Are you laughing now?”
“No,” I mewl.
I am just one ball of sexual, tense, need. He stares down at me for a moment, measur-
ing my need, then he grabs me suddenly and flips me over. It takes me by surprise, and
because my hands are tied, I have to support myself on my elbows. He pushes both my
knees up the bed so my behind is in the air, and he slaps me hard. Before I can react, he
plunges inside me. I cry out – from the slap and from his sudden assault, and I come in-
stantly again and again, falling apart beneath him as he continues to slam deliciously into
me. He doesn’t stop. I’m spent. I can’t take this… and he pounds on and on and on... then
I’m building again… surely not… no…
“Come on, Anastasia, again,” he growls through clenched teeth, and unbelievably, my
body responds, convulsing around him as I climax anew, calling out his name. I shatter
again into tiny fragments, and Christian stills, finally letting go, silently finding his release.
He collapses on top of me, breathing hard.
“How nicewas that?” he asks through his gritted teeth.
Oh my.
I lie panting and spent on the bed, eyes closed as he slowly pulls out of me. He rises
immediately and dresses. When he’s fully clothed, he climbs back on the bed and gently
undoes his tie and pulls my t-shirt off. I flex my fingers and rub my wrists, smiling at the
woven pattern imprinted on my wrists from the tie. I re-adjust my bra as he pulls the duvet
and quilt over me. I stare up at him completely dazed, and he smirks down at me.
“That was really nice,” I whisper, smiling coyly.
“There’s that word again.”
“You don’t like that word?”
“No. It doesn’t do it for me at all.”
“Oh – I don’t know… it seems to have a very beneficial effect on you.”
“I’m a beneficial effect, now am I? Could you wound my ego any further, Miss Steele?”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your ego.” But even as I say it, I don’t feel
the conviction of my words – something elusive crosses my mind, a fleeting thought, but
it’s lost before I can grasp it.
“You think?” His voice is soft. He’s lying beside me, fully clothed, his head propped
up on his elbow, and I am only wearing my bra.
“Why don’t you like to be touched?”
“I just don’t.” He reaches over and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. “So, that email
was your idea of a joke.”
I smile apologetically at him and shrug.
“I see. So you are still considering my proposition?”
“Your indecent proposal… yes I am. I have issues though.”
He grins down at me as if relieved.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“I was going to email them to you, but you kind of interrupted me.”
“Coitus Interruptus.”
“See, I knew you had a sense of humor somewhere in there.” I smile.
“Only certain things are funny, Anastasia. I thought you were saying no, no discussion
at all.” His voice drops.
“I don’t know yet. I haven’t made up my mind. Will you collar me?”
He raises his eyebrows.
“You have been doing your research. I don’t know, Anastasia. I’ve never collared
anyone.”
Oh… should I be surprised by this? I know so little about the scene… I don’t know.
“Were you collared?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
“By Mrs. Robinson?”
“Mrs. Robinson!” he laughs loudly, freely, and he looks so young and carefree, his
head thrown back, his laughter infectious.
I grin back at him.
“I’ll tell her you said that, she’ll love it.”
“You still talk to her regularly?” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice.
“Yes.” He’s serious now.
Oh… and part of me is suddenly insanely jealous – I’m disturbed by the depth of my
feeling.
“I see.” My voice is tight. “So you have someone you can discuss your alternative
lifestyle with, but I’m not allowed.”
He frowns.
“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it like that. Mrs. Robinson was part of that life-
style. I told you, she’s a good friend now. If you’d like, I can introduce you to one of my
former subs, you could talk to her.”
What? Is he deliberately trying to upset me?
“Is this youridea of a joke?
“No, Anastasia.” He’s bemused as he shakes his head earnestly.
“No – I’ll do this on my own, thank you very much,” I snap at him, pulling the duvet
up to my chin.
He stares at me, at sea, surprised.
“Anastasia, I… ” He’s lost for words. A first, I think. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m not offended. I’m appalled.”
“Appalled?”
“I don’t want to talk to one of your ex-girlfriends… slave… sub… whatever you call
them.”
“Anastasia Steele – are you jealous?”
I flush, crimson.
“Are you staying?”
“I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow at the Heathman. Besides, I told you, I don’t
sleep with girlfriends, slaves, subs, or anyone. Friday and Saturday night were exceptions.
It won’t happen again.” I can hear the resolve behind his soft, husky voice.
I purse my lips at him.
“Well I’m tired now.”
“Are you kicking me out?” He raises his eyebrows at me, amused and a little dismayed.
“Yes.”
“Well that’s another first.” He eyes me speculatively. “So nothing you want to discuss
now? About the contract.”
“No.” I reply petulantly.
“God, I’d like to give you a good hiding. You’d feel a lot better, and so would I.”
“You can’t say things like that… I haven’t signed anything yet.”
“A man can dream, Anastasia.” He leans over me and grasps my chin. “Wednesday?”
he murmurs, and he kisses me lightly on my lips.
“Wednesday,” I agree. “I’ll see you out. If you give me a minute.” I sit up and grab my
t-shirt, pushing him out of the way. Amused and reluctant, he gets up off the bed.
“Please pass me my sweat pants.”
He collects them from the floor and hands them to me.
“Yes, ma’am.” He’s trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile.
I narrow my eyes at him as I slip the pants on. My hair is a state, and I know I’ll have to
face the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition after he’s gone. Grabbing a hair tie, I walk to my
bedroom door, opening it slightly checking for Kate. She is not in the living area. I think
I can hear her on the phone in her room. Christian follows me out. During the short walk
from bedroom to front door, my thoughts and feelings ebb and flow, transforming. I’m no
longer angry with him, I feel suddenly unbearably shy. I don’t want him to go. For the
first time, I’m wishing he was – normal– wanting a normal relationship that doesn’t need
a ten-page agreement, a flogger, and karabiners in his playroom ceiling.
I open the door for him and stare down at my hands. This is the first time I have ever
had sex in my home, and as sex goes, I think it was pretty damn fine. But now I feel like
a receptacle – an empty vessel to be filled at his whim. My subconscious shakes her head.
You wanted to run to the Heathman for sex – you had it express-delivered.She crosses her
arms and taps her foot with a what-are-you-complaining-about-look on her face. Christian
stops in the doorway and clasps my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. His brow creases
slightly.
“You okay?” he asks tenderly as his thumb lightly caresses my bottom lip.
“Yes.” I reply, though in all honesty I’m just not sure. I feel a paradigm shift. I know
that if I do this thing with him, I will get hurt. He’s not capable, interested, or willing to
offer me any more… and I want more. Much more.The surge of jealousy I felt only mo-
ments ago tells me that I have deeper feelings for him than I have admitted to myself.
“Wednesday,” he confirms, and he leans forward and kisses me softly. Something
changes while he’s kissing me, his lips grow more urgent against mine, his hand moves up
from my chin and he’s holding the side of my head, his other hand on the other side. His
breathing accelerates. He deepens the kiss, leaning into me. I put my hands on his arms.
I want to run them through his hair, but I resist, knowing that he won’t like it. He leans his
forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his voice strained.
“Anastasia,” he whispers. “What are you doing to me?”
“I could say the same to you,” I whisper back.
Taking a deep breath, he kisses my forehead and leaves. He strolls purposefully down
the path towards his car as he runs his hand through his hair. Glancing up as he opens
his car door, he smiles his breathtaking smile. My answering smile is weak, completely
dazzled by him, and I’m reminded once more of Icarus soaring too close to the Sun. I close
the front door as he climbs into his sporty car. I have an overwhelming urge to cry, a sad
and lonely melancholy grips and tightens round my heart. Dashing back to my bedroom,
I close the door and lean against it trying to rationalize my feelings. I can’t. Sliding to the
floor, I put my head in my hands as my tears begin to flow.
Kate knocks gently.
“Ana?” she whispers. I open the door. She takes one look at me and throws her arms
around me.
“What’s wrong? What did that creepy good-looking bastard do?”
“Oh Kate, nothing I didn’t want him to.”
She pulls me to my bed and we sit.
“You have dreadful sex hair.”
In spite of my poignant sadness, I laugh.
“It was good sex, not dreadful at all.”
Kate smiles.
“That’s better. Why are you crying? You never cry.” She retrieves my brush from the
side table, and sitting behind me, very slowly starts brushing out the knots.
“I just don’t think our relationship is going to go anywhere.” I stare down at my fingers.
“I thought you said you were going to see him on Wednesday?”
“I am, that was our original plan.”
“So, why did he turn up here today?”
“I sent him an email.”
“Asking him to drop by?”
“No, saying I didn’t want to see him anymore.”
“And he turns up? Ana, that’s genius.”
“Actually it was a joke.”
“Oh. Now I’m really confused.”
Patiently, I explain the essence of my email without giving anything away.
“So you thought he’d reply by email.”
“Yes.”
“But instead he turns up here.”
“Yes.”
“I’d say he’s completely smitten with you.”
I frown. Christian, smitten with me? Hardly.He’s just looking for a new toy – a con-
venient new toy that he can bed and do unspeakable things to. My heart tightens painfully.
This is the reality.
“He came here to fuck me, that’s all.”
“Who said romance was dead?” she whispers horrified. I’ve shocked Kate. I didn’t
think that was possible. I shrug apologetically.
“He uses sex as a weapon.”
“Fuck you into submission?” She shakes her head disapprovingly. I blink rapidly at
her, and I can feel the blush as it spreads across my face. Oh… spot on, Katherine Kava-
nagh, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist.
“Ana, I don’t understand, you just let him make love to you?”
“No, Kate, we don’t make love – we fuck – Christian’s terminology. He doesn’t do
the love thing.”
“I knew there was something weird about him. He has commitment issues.”
I nod, as if in agreement. Inwardly, I pine. Oh Kate... I wish I could tell you every-
thing, everything about this strange, sad, kinky guy, and you could tell me to forget about
him. Stop me from being a fool.
“I guess it’s all a little overwhelming,” I murmur. That’s the understatement of the
year.Because I don’t want to talk about Christian any more, I ask her about Elliot. Kather-
ine’s whole demeanor changes at the mere mention of his name, she lights up from within,
beaming at me.
“He’s coming over early Saturday to help load up.” She hugs the hairbrush, boy has
she got it bad, and I feel a familiar faint stab of envy. Kate has found herself a normal man,
and she looks so happy.
I turn and hug her.
“Oh, I meant to say. Your dad called while you were… err, occupied. Apparently Bob
has sustained some injury, so your mom and he can’t make graduation. But your dad will
be here Thursday. He wants you to call.”
“Oh... my mom never called me. Is Bob okay?”
“Yes. Call her in the morning. It’s late now.”
“Thanks, Kate. I’m okay now. I’ll call Ray in the morning too. I think I’ll just turn
in.” She smiles, but her eyes crinkle at the corners with concern.
After she’s gone, I sit and read the contract again, making more notes as I go. When
I’ve finished, I fire up the laptop, ready to respond.
There’s an email from Christian in my inbox.
From:Christian Grey
Subject:This evening
Date:May 23 2011 23:16
To:Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele
I look forward to receiving your notes on the contract.
Until then, sleep well baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:Issues
Date:May 24 2011 00:02
To:Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey
Here is my list of issues. I look forward to discussing them more fully at dinner on
Wednesday.
The numbers refer to clauses:
2: Not sure why this is solely for MY benefit – ie to explore MY sensuality and limits. I’m
sure I wouldn’t need a ten-page contract to do that! Surely this is for YOUR benefit.
4: As you are aware you are my only sexual partner. I don’t take drugs, and I’ve not had
any blood transfusions. I’m probably safe. What about you?
8: I can terminate at any time if I don’t think you’re sticking to the agreed limits. Okay – I
like this.
9: Obey you in all things? Accept without hesitation your discipline? We need to talk
about this.
11: One month trial period. Not three.
12: I cannot commit every weekend. I do have a life, or will have. Perhaps three out of
four?
15.2: Using my body as you see fit sexually or otherwise – please define “or otherwise.”
15.5: This whole discipline clause. I’m not sure I want to be whipped, flogged, or corpo-
rally punished. I am sure this would be in breach of clauses 2-5. And also “for any other
reason”. That’s just mean – and you told me you weren’t a sadist.
15.10: Like loaning me out to someone else would ever be an option. But I’m glad it’s
here in black and white.
15.14: The Rules. More on those later.
15.19: Touching myself without your permission. What’s the problem with this? You
know I don’t do it anyway.
15.21: Discipline – Please see clause 15.5 above.
15.22: I can’t look into your eyes? Why?
15.24: Why can’t I touch you?
Rules:
Sleep – I’ll agree to 6 hours. Food – I am not eating food from a prescribed list. The food
list goes or I do – Deal breaker. Clothes – as long as I only have to wear your clothes
when I’m with you... okay. Exercise – We agreed 3 hours, this still says 4.
Soft Limits:
Can we go through all of these? No Fisting of any kind. What is suspension? Genital
Clamps – you have got to be kidding me.
Can you please let me know the arrangements for Wednesday? I am working until 5pm
that day.
Good night.
Ana
From:Christian Grey
Subject:This evening
Date:May 24 2011 00:07
To:Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele
That’s a long list. Why are you still up?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:Burning the midnight oil
Date:May 24 2011 00:10
To:Christian Grey
Sir
If you recall I was going through this list, when I was distracted and bedded by a passing
control freak.
Goodnight.
Ana
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Stop Burning the midnight oil
Date:May 24 2011 00:12
To:Anastasia Steele
GO TO BED ANASTASIA.
Christian Grey
CEO & Control Freak, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Oh… shouty capitals!I switch off. How can he intimidate me when he’s six miles away?
I shake my head. My heart still heavy, I climb into bed and fall instantly into a deep but
troubled sleep.
The following day, I call my mom when I’m home from work. It’s been a relatively peace-
ful day at the Clayton’s, allowing me far too much time to think. I’m restless, nervous
about my showdown with Mr. Control Freak tomorrow, and at the back of my mind, I’m
worried that perhaps I’ve been too negative in my response to the contract. Perhaps he’ll
call the whole thing off.
My mom is oozing contrition, desperately sorry not to make my graduation. Bob has
twisted some ligament which means he’s hobbling all over the place. Honestly, he’s as
accident-prone as I am. He’s expected to make a full recovery, but it means he’s resting
up, and my mother has to wait on him hand and sore foot.
“Ana honey, I’m so sorry,” my mom whines down the phone.
“Mom, it’s fine. Ray will be there.”
“Ana, you sound distracted – are you okay, baby?”
“Yes, Mom,” Oh if only you knew.There’s an obscenely rich guy I’ve met and he
wants some kind of strange kinky sexual relationship, in which I don’t get a say in things.
“Have you met someone?”
“No, Mom.” I am so not going there right now.
“Well, darling, I’ll be thinking of you on Thursday. I love you… you know that hon-
ey?”I close my eyes, her precious words give me a warm glow inside.
“Love you too, Mom. Say hi to Bob, and I hope he gets better fast.”
“Will do, honey. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I have strayed into my bedroom with the phone. Idly, I switch the mean machine on
and fire up the email program. There’s an email from Christian from late last night or very
early this morning, depending on your point of view. My heart rate spikes instantly, and I
hear the blood pumping in my ears. Holy crap… perhaps he’s said no – that’s it – maybe
he’s canceling dinner. The thought is so painful. I dismiss it quickly and open the email.
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Your Issues
Date:May 24 2011 01:27
To:Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele
Following my more thorough examination of your issues, may I bring to your attention the
definition of submissive.
submissive[s uhb– mis-iv] – adjective
1.inclined or ready to submit; unresistingly or humbly obedient: submissive servants.
2.marked by or indicating submission: a submissive reply.
Origin:1580–90; submiss + -ive
Synonyms: 1. tractable, compliant, pliant, amenable. 2.passive, resigned, patient, docile, tame, subdued. Antonyms: 1.rebellious, disobedient.
Please bear this in mind for our meeting on Wednesday.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
My initial feeling is one of relief. He’s willing to discuss my issues at least, and he still
wants to meet tomorrow. After some thought, I reply.
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:My Issues… What about Your Issues?
Date:May 24 2011 18:29
To:Christian Grey
Sir
Please note the date of origin: 1580-90. I would respectfully remind Sir that the year is
2011. We have come a long way since then.
May I offer a definition for you to consider for our meeting:
compromise[ kom-pr uh-mahyz] – noun
1.a settlement of differences by mutual concessions; an agreement reached by adjust-
ment of conflicting or opposing claims, principles, etc., by reciprocal modification of de-
mands. 2.the result of such a settlement. 3.something intermediate between different
things: The split-level is a compromise between a ranch house and a multistoried house.
4.an endangering, esp. of reputation; exposure to danger, suspicion, etc.: a compro-
mise of one’s integrity.
Ana
From:Christian Grey
Subject:What about My Issues?
Date:May 24 2011 18:32
To:Anastasia Steele
Good point, well made, as ever, Miss Steele. I will collect you from your apartment at
7:00 tomorrow.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:2011 – Women can drive
Date:May 24 2011 18:40
To:Christian Grey
Sir
I have a car. I can drive.
I would prefer to meet you somewhere.
Where shall I meet you?
At your hotel at 7:00?
Ana
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Stubborn Young Women
Date:May 24 2011 18:43
To:Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele
I refer to my email dated May 24, 2011 sent at 1:27 and the definition contained therein.
Do you ever think you’ll be able to do what you’re told?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:Intractable Men
Date:May 24 2011 18:49
To:Christian Grey
Mr. Grey
I would like to drive.
Please.
Ana
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Exasperated Men
Date:May 24 2011 18:52
To:Anastasia Steele
Fine.
My hotel at 7:00.
I’ll meet you in the Marble Bar.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
He’s even grumpy by email. Doesn’t he understand that I may need to make a quick get-
away? Not that my Beetle is quick… but still – I need a means of escape.
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:Not So Intractable Men
Date:May 24 2011 18:55
To:Christian Grey
Thank you.
Ana x
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Exasperating Women
Date:May 24 2011 18:59
To:Anastasia Steele
You’re welcome.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I call Ray, who is just about to watch the Sounders play some soccer team from Salt Lake
City, so our conversation is mercifully brief. He’s driving down on Thursday for gradua-
tion. He wants to take me out afterward for a meal. My heart swells talking to Ray, and a
huge lump knots in my throat. He has been my constant through all mom’s romantic ups
and downs. We have a special bond that I treasure. Even though he’s my stepdad, he’s
always treated me as his own, and I can’t wait to see him. It’s been too long. His quiet
fortitude is what I need now, what I miss. Maybe I can channel my inner Ray for my meet-
ing tomorrow.
Kate and I concentrate on packing, sharing a bottle of cheap red wine as we do. When
I finally go to bed, having almost finished packing my room, I feel calmer. The physical
activity of boxing everything up has been a welcome distraction, and I’m tired. I want a
good night’s sleep. I snuggle into my bed and am soon asleep.
Paul is back from Princeton before he sets off for New York to start an internship with a
financing company. He follows me round the store all day asking me for a date. It’s an-
noying.
“Paul, for the hundredth time, I have a date this evening.”
“No, you don’t, you’re just saying that to avoid me. You’re always avoiding me.”
Yes… you’d think you’d take the hint.
“Paul, I never thought it was a good idea to date the boss’s brother.”
“You’re finishing here on Friday. You’re not working tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be in Seattle as of Saturday and you’ll be in New York soon. We couldn’t get
much further apart if we tried. Besides, I do have a date this evening.”
“With José?”
“No.”
“Who then?”
“Paul… oh.” My sigh is exasperated. He’s not going to let this go. “Christian Grey.” I
cannot help the annoyance in my voice. But it does the trick. Paul’s mouth falls open, and
he gapes at me, struck dumb. Humph – even his namerenders people speechless.
“You have a date with Christian Grey,” he says finally, once he’s over the shock. Dis-
belief is evident in his voice.
“Yes.”
“I see.” Paul looks positively crestfallen, stunned even, and a very small part resents
that he should find this a surprise. My inner goddess does too. She makes a very vulgar
and unattractive gesture at him with her fingers.
After that, he ignores me, and at five I am out of the door, pronto.
Kate has lent me two dresses and two pairs of shoes for tonight and for graduation
tomorrow. I wish I could feel more enthused about clothes and make an extra effort, but
clothes are just not my thing. What is your thing, Anastasia?Christian’s softly spoken
question haunts me. Shaking my head and endeavoring to quell my nerves, I decide on the
plum-colored sheath dress for this evening. It’s demure and vaguely business-like – after
all, I am negotiating a contract.
I shower, shave my legs and underarms, wash my hair, and then spend a good half-hour
drying it so that it falls in soft waves to my breasts and down my back. I slip a comb in to
keep one side off my face and apply mascara and some lip-gloss. I rarely wear make-up – it
intimidates me. None of my literary heroines had to deal with make-up – maybe I’d know
more about it if they had. I slip on the plum-colored stilettos that match the dress, and I’m
ready by six-thirty.
“Well?” I ask Kate.
She grins.
“Boy, you scrub up well, Ana.” She nods with approval. “You look hot.”
“Hot! I’m aiming for demure and business-like.”
“That too, but most of all, hot. The dress really suits you and your coloring. The way
it clings.” She smirks.
“Kate!” I scold.
“Just keeping it real, Ana. The whole package – looks good. Keep the dress. You’ll
have him eating out of your hand.”
My mouth presses in a hard line. Oh, you so have that the wrong way round.
“Wish me luck.”
“You need luck for a date?” Her brow furrows, puzzled.
“Yes, Kate.”
“Well then – good luck.” She hugs me, and I am out the front door.
I have to drive in my bare feet – Wanda, my sea-blue Beetle, wasn’t built to be driven
by stiletto-wearers. I pull up outside the Heathman at six-fifty-eight precisely and hand my
car keys to the valet for parking. He looks askance at my Beetle, but I ignore him. Taking
a deep breath and mentally girding my loins, I head into the hotel.
Christian is leaning casually against the bar, drinking a glass of white wine. He’s
dressed in his customary white linen shirt, black jeans, black tie, and black jacket. His hair
is as tousled as ever. I sigh. Of course he looks gorgeous. I stand for a few seconds in the
entrance of the bar, gazing at him, admiring the view. He is beyond beautiful. He glances,
nervously I think, toward the entrance and stills when he sees me. Blinking a couple of
times, he then smiles a slow, lazy, sexy smile that renders me speechless and all molten
inside. Making a supreme effort not to bite my lip, I move forward aware that I, Anastasia
Steele of Clumsyville, am in high stilettos. He walks gracefully over to meet me.
“You look stunning,” he murmurs as he leans down to briefly kiss my cheek. “A dress,
Miss Steele. I approve.” Taking my arm, he leads me to a secluded booth and signals for
the waiter.
“What would you like to drink?”
My lips quirk up in a quick, sly smile as I sit and slide into the booth – well, at least
he’s asking me.
“I’ll have what you’re having, please.” See! I can play nice and behave myself.
Amused, he orders another glass of Sancerre and slides in opposite me.
“They have an excellent wine cellar here,” he says, cocking his head to one side.
Putting his elbows on the table, he steeples his fingers in front of his beautiful mouth,
his gray eyes alive with some unreadable emotion. And there it is… that familiar pull and
charge from him, it connects somewhere deep inside me. I shift uncomfortably under his
scrutiny, my heart palpitating. I must keep my cool.
“Are you nervous?” he asks softly.
“Yes.”
He leans forward.
“Me too,” he whispers conspiratorially. My eyes shoot up to meet his. Him. Nervous.
Never.I blink at him, and he smiles his adorable lopsided smile at me. The waiter arrives
with my wine, a small dish of mixed nuts, and another of olives.
“So, how are we going to do this?” I ask. “Run through my points one by one?”
“Impatient as ever, Miss Steele.”
“Well, I could ask you what you thought of the weather today?”
He smiles, and his long fingers reach down to collect an olive. He pops it in his mouth,
and my eyes linger on his mouth, that mouth, that’s been on me… all parts of me. I flush.
“I thought the weather was particularly unexceptional today,” he smirks.
“Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey?”
“I am, Miss Steele.”
“You know this contract is legally unenforceable.”
“I am fully aware of that, Miss Steele.”
“Were you going to tell me that at any point?”
He frowns at me.
“You’d think I’d coerce you into something you don’t want to do, and then pretend that
I have a legal hold over you?”
“Well… yes.”
“You don’t think very highly of me at all, do you?”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Anastasia, it doesn’t matter if it’s legal or not. It represents an arrangement that I
would like to make with you – what I would like from you and what you can expect from
me. If you don’t like it, then don’t sign. If you do sign, and then decide you don’t like it,
there are enough get-out clauses so you can walk away. Even if it were legally binding, do
you think I’d drag you through the courts if you did decide to run?”
I take a long draft of my wine. My subconscious taps me hard on the shoulder. You
must keep your wits about you. Don’t drink too much.
“Relationships like this are built on honesty and trust,” he continues. “If you don’t
trust me – trust me to know how I’m affecting you, how far I can go with you, how far I
can take you – if you can’t be honest with me, then we really can’t do this.”
Oh my,we’ve cut to the chase quickly. How far he can take me.Holy shit. What does
that mean?
“So it’s quite simple, Anastasia. Do you trust me or not?” His eyes are burning, fer-
vent.“Did you have similar discussions with um… the fifteen?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because they were all established submissives. They knew what they wanted out of
a relationship with me and generally what I expected. With them, it was just a question of
fine-tuning the soft limits, details like that.”
“Is there a store you go to? Submissives R Us?”
He laughs.
“Not exactly.”
“Then how?”
“Is that what you want to discuss? Or shall we get down to the nitty-gritty? Your is-
sues, as you say.”
I swallow. Do I trust him?Is that what this all comes down to – trust? Surely that
should be a two-way thing. I remember his snit when I phoned José.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, distracting me from my thoughts.
Oh no… food.
“No.”
“Have you eaten today?”
I stare at him. Honesty…Holy crap, he’s not going to like my answer.
“No.” My voice is small.
He narrows his eyes.
“You have to eat, Anastasia. We can eat down here or in my suite. What would you
prefer?”
“I think we should stay in public, on neutral ground.”
He smiles sardonically.
“Do you think that would stop me?” he says softly, a sensual warning.
My eyes widen, and I swallow again.
“I hope so.”
“Come, I have a private dining room booked. No public.” He smiles at me enigmati-
cally and climbs out of the booth, holding his hand out to me.
“Bring your wine,” he murmurs.
Placing my hand in his, I slide out and stand up beside him. He releases me, and his
hand reaches for my elbow. He leads me back through the bar and up the grand stairs to a
mezzanine floor. A young man in full Heathman livery approaches us.
“Mr. Grey, this way sir.”
We follow him through a plush seating area to an intimate dining room. Just one
secluded table.The room is small but sumptuous. Beneath a shimmering chandelier,
the table is all starched linen, crystal glasses, silver cutlery, and white rose bouquet. An
