Chapter One – Eva Raynes
I look at myself in the mirror, dripping wet from the shower. I run my hand over my just-a-shade-above honey colored skin. I run my fingertips up my arm and into my soft brown naturally curly hair. As I close my eyes, I imagine him standing behind me, touching all my sweet spots with his nose in my hair. I shake my head in an attempt to ride myself of the fantasy. I dry myself off, lotion up and throw on my cotton pajamas I laid out before my shower. I crawl into bed and stare up at the ceiling and wonder if I'll ever hear more than two words from the super sexy copper haired, grey-eyed Zeus that lives in my building. I've never much been interested in white guys but he is mouth-watering. I don't even know his name. I close my eyes and succumb to the fantasies my inner goddess is shoving in my direction.
Goapele's song Play comes on my alarm clock as the first beams of light touch my face, forcing me to leave my dreams. I sit up, stretch, and set out to get my day started. Saturdays are what I consider Beautify Eva days. I have a hair appointment, nail appointment, and a little shopping to do. After brushing my teeth and getting dressed I head out to the elevator and push the button. After tapping my foot a minute or so the doors slide open and there he is. Zeus. I think my heart does cartwheels.
"Are you going to get in?" he asks. I hadn't realized I was standing and staring. I step in to the elevator, all the way to the other side.
"I'm sorry," I apologize sheepishly. I glance at him and see that he is staring straight forward as we roll down to the garage floor. I take a deep breath and go for it. "I'm Eva Raynes, I just moved in a couple of months ago." I outstretch my hand to him.
"Christian Grey," he reaches and firmly but briefly, too briefly, shakes my hand. I tense at his touch as the all too familiar tingle downstairs begins to pulse. I notice a light mark on his left ring finger as well.
"Are you married?" The question leaves my lips for I can even think about it. He lips immediately go into a hard line, and he tenses.
"Not anymore."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." This is starting to feel like the longest elevator ride ever. The doors open and I scurry to my red Audi A4, trying my best not to look back at him. I crank up my music and pull out of the garage and on to my appointments.
