A/N: Hello to all. This is my very first attempt at writing fiction. I've finally mustered up the courage to put down on paper what has been driving me crazy in my head. This has been a form of therapy for me, a much-needed outlet to channel out many emotions as life has dealt me with alot of curve balls these last few years. I will try my best to update regularly and not keep you hanging. I hope you enjoy.
Ana's pov
It's my first day of work at one of Seattle's largest Accounting and Auditing Firms, Young and Hudson LLP. Alan Young is co-founder and senior partner and as of today, my new boss. I haven't the slightest idea on how an Accounting Firm operates or what my new position entails since I majored in English Literature. I must remind myself why I let Kate talk me into applying for this job. Ah yes, the much-needed income.
Her father, founder of Kavanagh Media, is a well-respected client of Alan's who initially offered the almost vacant position to Kate. Unbeknownst to him she already had an internship lined up at The Seattle Times after graduation and since I was in desperate need of a job, Kate's father called-in a favor and referred me instead. Never in a million years did I think Alan would ever consider hiring me as his personal assistant as I have zero experience or knowledge in the Accounting field. To say that I'm under qualified is an understatement. Yet here I am, getting ready for my first day at Y&H.
My first week went surprisingly smooth. Marty, Alan's soon to be retired assistant, kindly walked me through everything and made sure that I was properly settled in. She gave me a detailed rundown of all that the job requires. I'm not going to lie; I have my work cut out for me. Here I thought I was only going to be sorting out mail and bringing Alan his coffee. Turns out I will be proof reading financial statements, proposals and engagement letters, updating my boss' itinerary, setting up conference meetings and calls, overlooking his expense reports, and of course handling the dreaded filing. The list goes on and on and I'm exhausted just thinking about.
By Friday I'm in my element, and although I know this job only serves as a means to an end, I feel confident that I will thrive here. I was also thrilled to learn that Y&H has an entire editing and publishing team overlooking the corporation's web page, press releases, as well as their internal and external newsletters. This is something I can see myself moving towards down the line as it is right up my alley.
Today is Marty's last day at the office, so I'm grateful that it's been the slowest day of the week so far. The timing of my hire comes at a rather hectic time as we are nearing the end of the second financial reporting quarter. As I prepare to submit Alan's weekly time sheet to internal accounting it occurs to me that this man has worked close to eighty hours this week. When does he sleep? Talk about dedication, but then again with his job title it seems fair to say that the hours and responsibility go with the territory.
"Girls, what do you think of this new tie I just bought," he asks as Marty and I make our way back to our cubicle from lunch. "So I can restrain my wife to the bed." Alan jokingly shares with us while we both gasp while I turn red like a tomato.
"I'll miss working for you," Marty smiles back in response. That's all she has to say? I decide not to leave well enough alone and my attempts to play along completely backfire on me.
"Why don't you use handcuffs instead?" I blurt out before I could even filter my thoughts. Damn, I should think before I speak sometimes, both Alan and Marty's eyes widening in shock.
"Oh oh … you shouldn't have said that," she warns, shaking her head as Alan laughs his head off. "Such thought, not wise to have voiced it in front of this one over here."
"Never joke about matters of the bedroom with the boss," now she tells me. "He'll never let you live that one down." I know now that I just shot myself in the foot. Marty assured me that although he's a flirtatious joker, it's all harmless and in good fun. Though something tells me that my handcuffs remark is going to come back to bite me in the behind somehow. Much to my dismay, I realize I still have so much to learn. My smart mouth is surely going to get me in trouble one of these days.
Christian's pov- weeks later
"Andrea, these fucking numbers don't add up. Get in here." I order through the intercom, running my hands through my hair in frustration. I seriously need to get a new submissive, the fucking tension is killing me. I need to take this anger out on someone otherwise I might end up in jail for murder.
"Mr. Grey?" Andrea peeks in through the doorway.
"Andrea, get Alan Young on the phone now. Our financial statements need to be revised again!" I don't pay my accountant a pretty penny to fuck up like this, especially now that I have the IRS breathing down my neck. To his defense, Alan is so tied up, much like myself, that he delegates all his dirty work to that new cocky little prick intern Colin. The kid seriously can't add for shit.
"Mr. Grey, I can't reach Mr. Young, should I leave a message?" The fucker is avoiding me.
"Don't bother Andrea. I'll call his direct line from my blackberry." That should get his fucking attention.
"Alan Young's office, how may I help you?" A female voice answers. Who the fuck is this? Some new assistant of his takes my call at my third attempt to reach him.
"Is Alan in the office today? Why isn't he taking my calls? I need to speak to him now!" I growl. I know I come off arrogant and conceded but I don't give a fuck. She gives me some bullshit excuse about Alan having his calls forwarded to her.
"And you are?" I fucking can't stand not knowing who I'm speaking with.
"This is his new assistant, Anastasia Steele." New assistant? Interesting. I take the opportunity to mess with her head.
"New assistant eh?" She doesn't respond. "I see... figures," she huffs on the other end and I know I've pissed her off. What else is new? I'm a cocky prick I know, but in my world this is how shit gets done if you expect people to jump at your every command.
"I'm sorry you said your name was?" She snaps back. Is she fucking serious? She obviously has no fucking clue who she's talking to. It doesn't take a genius to know I'm the Grey in Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. I wonder if she's a brunette. Shut that shit down Grey, now's not the time to get your head in the gutter.
"I didn't." Two can play this game sweetheart. You can't outsmart me. When it comes to war of words I always win baby. She remains quiet. Enough of the bullshit, time to cut to the chase.
"Tell Alan it's Christian Grey. He knows I don't like to wait. Oh and Ms. Steele, make it fast, I don't have all day." She huffs and wisely doesn't respond. Oh baby, that's right you don't want to play with fire. I would take great pleasure in punishing you.
"Grey!" Alan's voice startles me out of my wicked thoughts. I didn't realize my call had already been transferred. "What the fuck Alan, are you trying to give me a coronary?"
"Listen Grey, I've been revising your statements all morning, I think Colin send you the wrong draft." No fucking shit! "I figured you'd be calling back."
"Alan I need these reports yesterday. I have a lunch meeting with Carrick and I need these signed, sealed and delivered before I leave." There's a sigh on the other end and I can tell he's lighting a cigarette. He should seriously quit that shit.
"Grey you're putting me in a corner here." Yea, tell that to the IRS.
"Alan you need to fire that dick Colin, he's not cut out for the job. He clearly has no fucking idea what he's doing." Alan doesn't disagree.
As he's pondering his next move my mind goes back to his assistant and her smart mouth. What did she say her name was? Anastasia Steele. My palm is twitching just thinking about her voice and with the mood I'm in today I'd love for nothing more than to spank the living shit out of her. Perhaps Taylor can arrange to take me over to Y&H to pick up the documents in person so I can get a closer look at this Ms. Steele.
"Hey Alan, this new assistant of yours, is she hot?" What the fuck am I doing? The quicker I get a new sub the better. Alan's laughing so hard he chokes on the cloud of what I'm guessing is cigarette smoke. And by hot he knows I mean brunette. He's the only one apart from Elliott and Elena that knows I have a penchant for brunettes. The rest of the world thinks I'm gay.
"She's way too good for you Grey." He chuckles. Fucker. Translation: She's a brunette and she's hot. And now I need to adjust my pants. Down boy! I've known Alan for years; he's known Carrick even longer. Carrick introduced us when I first started my own business. Mergers and acquisitions are his main area of focus and expertise. He's simply put, the best at what he does.
He's the only business associate of mine that shoots me smart ass remarks and gets away with it. Now, almost six years later we're practically buddies and speak freely to each other, no formalities.
"Maybe I should make a pit stop and see for myself." I'm disgusted with myself. I sound more like a frantic teenager with raging hormones in need of some serious sexual relief rather than an in-control self-made CEO. Get a grip Grey!
"You know what Grey that suits me perfectly. You'd never get those documents in time. I'll have Anastasia make the arrangements so the forms are ready for you to review and sign when you get here." For fuck's sake just hearing her name is getting me hard again.
Ana's pov
The fucking nerve of that guy! Who does that asshole think he is? If he thinks I'm intimidated in the least he has another thing coming. I put him on hold and count to ten and despite my better judgment I resist the urge to end the call right then and there. As I'm about to flip this Grey guy off through the receiver I remind myself that I'm in a professional environment and speedily make my way to my boss's office.
I pause briefly at Alan's door when I notice an odd smell coming from his office. Cigarettes? I giggle at the realization. He typically takes his much needed nicotine breaks every two hours, so smoking in the building is completely out of character for him, not to mention illegal.
"I hate to interrupt you Alan but there's a Mr. Christian Grey desperately trying to get a hold of you." I roll my eyes as I say this. Yep, he's definitely smoking. He slams his fist on his desk.
"Why didn't he call me directly?"
"He did, but your calls are forwarded to my line for some reason." I explain as he pulls on his tie, looking much like he wants to kill someone right now.
"Oh Fuck, I forgot to deactivate the call forwarding option this morning. Can this day get any fucking worse? Sorry Ana for the bad language. Please transfer Mr. Grey immediately, I was expecting his call. We don't want the CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings to wait." CEO? "He's an extremely important client." He stresses the word as he looks me straight in the eye. No shit.
"That much he's made abundantly clear." I don't even make an effort to hide the sarcasm in my tone.
"Ana, he's a pain in the ass I know, but trust me you don't want to piss him off." Sure, whatever. As I head back to my desk I resolve to turn a blind eye and pretend not to have noticed the cigarette bud filled ashtray or the whiff of smoke. No one likes a stool pigeon.
Alan is one of the most laid back individuals on the planet; he reminds me a lot of Ray in some ways. Next to this Christian Grey, Alan is a saint, his complete opposite.
My thoughts are interrupted when a panicky Alan, all humor gone, emerges from his office rushing towards me, notably rattled by his conversation with Mr. Grey.
"Sorry Ana, you're going to have to take a late lunch. The financial statements and quarterly reports for GEH need to go to editing and printing and be ready within the next half hour. Put a rush on it. Mr. Grey is headed to a lunch meeting and will be picking these up personally along the way. So we need to move fast." Alan is unquestionably nervous as he adjusts his tie with shaky hands. I know better not to take his latest request lightly or to question the urgency as this is not my area of expertise.
I set out for the task at hand without question and hesitation. In record time I manage to get all the reports and statements proofread and printed, and I all but sprint back to the boss' office.
As I hastily enter the room and rush towards his desk, documents in hand, I feel a sudden electric pull from behind me. I turn over to find Alan by the window reaching for a private stash of cognac he keeps carefully hidden in his bookcase. Next to him stands a strikingly handsome gentleman in a stylish gray suit looking much like he's stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine. His piercing eyes stop me dead in my tracks. I gape at him dumbfounded as he assesses me from head to toe, not taking his eyes off me. Wait a minute. This can't be … can it?
"Anastasia, meet Mr. Christian Grey." Holy shit it IS! He's already here? Breathe, Ana, breathe. How can a CEO of such a successful international corporation be this young and this deliciously hot? He's a sinfully good looking son-of-a-bitch, I'll give him that. I'm all but grateful to be wearing my favorite plum dress Kate gave me for graduation paired with matching colored heels.
"Mr. Grey, it's a pleasure to meet you," I reach out to shake his hand but to my surprise he gently brings my hand towards his mouth and softly places a chaste kiss on my knuckles making me audibly gasp. Damn it.
"Ms. Steele, the pleasure is all mine." My body goes numb at the sound of his sensual voice, sending shivers straight through me. The magnetic pull is definitely undeniable.
"My assistant Ana is into handcuffs." Fucking. Asshole. The dreaded handcuffs remark I feared that would come back to haunt me. A wave of mortification washes over me. I'm going to kill Alan. I shoot him the iciest of glares. If looks could kill, this would be it.
"Is she now?" Christian raises his eyebrows looking a little too pleased, giving me a mischievous grin. All I do is purse my lips and shrug my shoulders in utter embarrassment. I can't think of a single thing to say in my defense I'm so mortified. All I want to do is duck and hide, run for the hills, Road Runner style.
"Well Ms. Steele, we aim to please." He did not just say that, his smoldering gaze nearly making me combust as Alan throws his head back in laughter. I'm now eyeing that bottle of cognac for dear life wanting to drown myself in it.
Christian's pov
Alan is about to pour me a shot of Courvoisier when I'm distracted by a slim silhouette entering his office. Fuck me. Please tell me that's who I think it is.
She turns around and immediately our eyes lock. Those legs, those sexy long legs... Fuck. I can't help but picture them wrapped around me, her pinned against a wall screaming out my name. Fuck I'm such a pervert. Her luscious lips, those striking blue eyes, that velvety fair skin, those gorgeous long brown locks, that sexy as fuck dress; The verdict is in, I'm in fucking trouble.
She flushes as she makes her way towards me as Alan introduces us. She feels the pull too. And to think I was such a dick with her over the phone. Stupid fucking asshole! I need to rectify this.
As she greets me I surprise her by taking her hand and softly place a kiss on her knuckles. Nice touch Grey. I feel her pulse racing. Not bad for a guy who doesn't know Jack shit about hearts and flowers. Her skin is so soft and she smells oh so sweet.
"Ms. Steele, the pleasure is all mine." I emphasize mine, because all I can think of right now is how much I want to make her mine.
Alan then mentions something about her liking handcuffs and I instantly get a hard on. Anastasia Steele where have you been all my life? She's clearly embarrassed, but I don't give a fuck. I'm now determined to get into her panties and her into my playroom.
"Well Ms. Steele, we aim to please." I shoot down my cognac. I swear her breath hitches and I know I'm in business. I make a mental note to call up Welch for a background check.
Ana's pov
"Ana, stay here until we finish reviewing the reports in case any modifications are required." I can't get out of here fast enough. This alpha male of Greek god status known as Christian Grey has totally knocked me off my equilibrium. I frankly don't know what just hit me.
I stand there watching the two, each sitting across each other. The papers now spread out on the glass coffee table separating the two black leather sofas they're both seated on. I feel so out of place. I think I might faint if I stay in this office any longer. My anxiety is building by the second and my head is spinning out of control.
"Alan, you can tell your assistant it's ok to sit. I won't bite." The bastard is smirking. Why is he referring to me in the third person, like I'm not there? He senses how awkward this is for me and he's playing on that. Bastard. Alan again does what he does best, he just laughs. Traitor.
I wisely choose to sit next to Alan. If I sit next to the Adonis I might hurl or worse, faint right on his lap. Although the thought is tempting I just can't risk it so I choose to spare myself any further embarrassment. As I sit in silence feeling like an idiot, I can sense Christian gawking at me as I'm on full display across from him and it takes all of my will power not to look up. But when I do, I catch him sizing me up from head to toe. Is Christian Grey checking me out? This is pure torture. My palms are so sweaty that I can't stop rubbing them against the skirt of my dress.
"So Ana, are you enjoying working for this douche?" Did he just call my boss a douche? How the hell do I answer that? I look over at Alan who is shaking his head and smiling like a fool while still going over the reports. It takes me a nanosecond to establish that these two are more than just business associates, it's clear they're friends.
"So far, so good," I answer politically correctly.
"Good answer," Alan finally chimes in.
"Grey everything looks good to me. What about on your end?" With that he downs his cognac.
"I don't see appendix nine anywhere." Without even realizing it I roll my eyes. The Casanova catches me. Shit. Christian rakes his left hand through his hair, eyeing me sternly.
What is that look on his face? A look of anger mixed with … lust? What is wrong with me? I'm nothing but a bundle of nerves around this man. Wasn't he in a hurry? Why is he stalling? I thought he had a lunch meeting.
"Fucking unbelievable. Ana go find Colin. He has some explaining to do." Thanks Grey! Colin is one of those employees that cares more about keeping up with the latest fashion trend rather than trying to leave a good impression on the boss. He's all talk, no action. In other words, he's full of shit.
When it's almost lunch break or time to call it a day, he'll look at his watch counting down to the second just like a school boy in a classroom waiting for the school bell to ring. At 11:59 am he's already out the door. Good luck finding him now during 'recess.'
There's a sudden shift in the air and Christian doesn't look too pleased.
"Fuck it Alan, we'll sign whatever we have here and you can just email the file to Andrea." Ok what just happened? Sudden mood shift. If I didn't know any better I'd say Grey took pity on me. I guess deep down for a cold hearted snake there's a heart in there somewhere. Either that or he feels the same way I do about Colin.
Christian's pov
Fuck that, I don't want Anastasia anywhere near that pretty boy. I'd much rather she stay here sitting in front of me so I can carry on with my dirty visuals of her blindfolded and restrained in my playroom. She visibly relaxes once I tell Alan to email the missing sections to Andrea. What the fuck? Since when do I cave in like this? I'm not typically the accommodating type. I need to book an emergency session with Flynn. Something's not right.
"Ana your brownies are on my desk, you want to offer some to Grey?" Oh I'll take her brownies alright, on any desk for that matter.
"Ana?" Alan calls out a second time. She startles out of her reverie bringing her back to terra firma from wherever she's just been. I evidently have the same effect on her as she does on me. Busted Ms. Steele!
"You bake brownies." No shit Sherlock.
"Yes, Alan loves my brownies." I'm sure he does. Lucky fucker. Did she emphasize my? It doesn't take a genius to figure out the little vixen is toying with me. Oh Ms. Steele, you are getting bold. Bring. It. On.
"I bring him a fresh batch every Friday."
"I'm jealous, where are my brownies?" Truth is I really am jealous. She bites her lower lip. Fuck me, is that ever arousing. I want to be the one to bite that lip. What I would do to that mouth. If I didn't have a weakness before, I sure as fuck do now. I want her, not just her brownies. Flirting and sexual innuendos have never been my style, but with Ms. Steele that oddly comes naturally. It's refreshing if anything, although somewhat unsettling.
The effect she has on me is puzzling. This is new and dangerous territory, I need to tread carefully. Losing focus and possibly my self-control around a beautiful woman I barely know, namely a one Anastasia Steele is quite frankly disconcerting. Well that sure as fuck is about to change. I want this woman in my bed yesterday. My bed?
What the fuck is that about? I never took any one of my subs to my bed. She clearly is not the submissive type though I'd love for nothing more than to introduce her to the lifestyle, if she's willing. The idea of training Anastasia to submit to me in all things sexual has a tempting appeal. I never trained a submissive before. But I'm game for the challenge if it means Anastasia agreeing to submit whole heartedly to me and only me, mind, body, and soul. There's a first time for everything.
The question now is would she be up for the challenge. My submissives were always brought to me willingly knowing what to expect and what they wanted, what I wanted. No pursuit on my part, no questions asked, no surprises or strings attached. We would briefly discuss and work out the soft and hard limits, draw up a contract and sign on the dotted line. As simple as that. The arrangement is fail proof and perfect for someone like me as it gives me complete and ultimate control, not to mention full discretion. No one gets hurt. However that shit loses its appeal after a while and gets old quickly. Something tells me I may experience many firsts with Ms. Steele. That is if she'll let me. Fuck if Alan knew where my mind was going this very minute he'd kick the shit out of me.
Ana's pov
"Are you in a hurry Grey? Alan asks.
"Carrick is running late, what else is new."
"Good, do you mind if I go down for a quick smoke? Ana can feed you some brownies in the meantime." What? Did he say feed? He better not leave me here alone with the sex god.
"I don't mind at all." Alan throws Christian a look, one that screams you-owe-me-fucking-big-time. Why do I suddenly feel like a piece of smoked meat hanging from the ceiling of a Polish deli? Oh they are both going to pay! And with that he Alan leaves.
His eyes follow my every movement as I make my way towards him with the platter of brownies and strategically place it on the coffee table right in front of him. The entire time my eyes are glued to Alan's antique rug. A vision of me 'accidentally' spilling his beloved vintage cognac on it makes me grin with delight. It would serve him right. You know what they say, payback's a bitch.
"Aren't you going to feed me?" My eyes shoot up and meet Christian's. Did I hear him correctly?
"What?"
"The brownies, aren't you going to feed me your brownies?" My mouth goes dry, my feet feel numb, my knees weakening. This recipe is one for disaster.
"Um … the brownies?"
"Mmm hmm." I remember to catch my breath as I must've stopped breathing at some point. I struggle to keep my balance.
"I … um …" Is he serious?
"It's ok, I don't bite." He is serious.
"Hand feeding clients is not on my list of job duties."
"Well then you leave me no choice." He grabs a brownie and brings it to my mouth. What?
"Bite," his sultry voice commands me.
"I… I'm not hungry." Truth is I'm beyond famished, but around him there is no way I can focus on food. He draws a sharp breath, narrowing his eyes, giving me an intimidating glare that tells me he isn't taking no for an answer.
I reluctantly play along and take a bite while running my tongue along my lips, his eyes not leaving my mouth. His eyes are hungry with desire and I don't think it's for the brownies. As I swallow my piece I watch Christian in amazement as he takes the other half of the brownie and pops it in his mouth licking his fingers as he draws them back out, his eyes never leaving mine. I wish I could lick those fingers. Never in a million years would I think eating brownies can be so arousing.
"Mmmmm. Finger lickin' good." This is Christian Grey sensory overload. The man is killing me! I don't know which way is up or down.
It wouldn't surprise me in the least if he didn't have the same effect on every woman that crossed his path. I mean look at him! What would he want with virginal inexperienced boring old me? There must be a slew of hot gorgeous women lining up for him, and who could blame them. I'm way out of my league here. I should just cut my losses and not bother setting myself up for the disappointment.
"You two kids getting along?" Alan's unexpected return startles us both out of our trance and me out of my seat. Is the Alpha Male adjusting himself?
"I … um … nothing." Why do I sound like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar? Christian struggles to hide his amusement, trying not to laugh. He's enjoying this. Bastard.
"Carrick just called me. He said you weren't answering your phone. Let's get this over with before he has me by the balls." Yep, they are definitely close. "Ana you can take your break now." Thank heavens!
I b line straight to the ladies room and splash cold water over my face. That was by far the most deliciously intense and unusual encounter I've ever experienced in my entire life. What was that all about? Why aren't my lungs pumping for air? I can't seem to catch my breath. I quickly rush back to my desk, grab my purse and run to catch the open elevator only to bump into a hard chest already standing behind the now closing doors.
"We meet yet again Ms. Steele." I'm stuck alone with Mr. Sex on Legs yet again on our way down. Shit. This can't be happening … 34 floors to go.
"Thank you for holding the doors Mr. Grey." He flashes me that hypnotic killer smile making my knees buckle. There's that magnetic pull again.
We stand in uncomfortable silence.
29 floors to go… 28… 27… I feel flustered not knowing where to look. God he smells so good, so sexy. I'm getting high on the scent of Christian Grey. Someone water me down with a water hose.
24… 23… 22 …
"Ms. Steele you look a little flushed, are you alright?" Oh don't give me that you god of seduction you. He knows exactly the effect he has on me.
"I'm fine. It's just getting a little… hot in here." I think I might hyper-ventilate at any moment.
"You don't say." Oh I do say. If I didn't know any better I'd say he's leaning in closer and closer. I'm toast.
19… 18… 17…
"Ms. Steele please accept my apologies for my earlier outburst over the telephone. That was very unprofessional and rude of me." He tugs at my chin, the touch triggering an instant dampening effect between my legs.
"You were biting your lip," he says huskily.
"Oh."
I can't speak, I can't blink, I can't think. What is this man doing to me? His eyes are darkening, boring into mine, his breath warm on my face. Man-up Steele.
14… 13… 12…
"So do you?" Now we're literally in each other's space.
"Do I what?" The closeness is beginning to play a number on my brain function. What was the question?
9… 8… 7…
"Accept my apologies?" Oh… right.
"You're apologizing to me? I'm speechless." He doesn't strike me as the type that grovels.
"I can be nice when I want to be," he says playfully.
4… 3… 2…
"Mr. Grey, are you becoming a softie?"
1… Ground Floor… and the elevator doors open.
He brings his mouth to my ear as I hold my breath.
"I assure you Ms. Steele there is nothing soft about me." Oh. Fuck.
With that he slips me his business card and walks away, leaving me completely dumbfounded and speechless.