I hope you enjoy this short story that I wrote for the "FSOG FanFic Followers Hot Summer Nights" challenge. It wasn't a winner, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Leave me a review and let me know if you enjoyed it too! I do have bits and pieces of 'what comes next,' so tell me if you want to hear more about those hot summer nights!

Forbidden Fruit

Should you take a bite... or not?

You know what? Screw him and his stupid ideas. I'm done. Over it. He deserves what he gets.

"Ana?" It's Kate. "Are you coming tonight? Pretty please?"

Her hopeful tone breaks through my funk and I laugh. She knows that I can't drink, that I am the perfect D.D. "Fine. You know what? I could blow off some steam."

We grin. The last two weeks have been... horrible. A pressure cooker.

It's late June, and Kate and I have been living in Seattle for six weeks. She has an internship at The Seattle Times, and her boss is hosting a cookout at his beach house. It's only about a fifteen-minute drive from our Montlake bungalow, but definitely several steps up in social status. The beach house is perched overlooking the water, and steps lead from the side yard down to the beach.

We make our way down the steps onto a path that ends at the rocky shore. Huge cooking grates are set up, and the air is filled with the smell of salmon grilling. There are long tables of food, and I set my bowl of homemade pasta salad on one of them. Kate's contribution is a case of beer, and I help her add it to one of the ice-filled tubs. There's a pile of driftwood set up for a fire, with logs for seating placed around it.

Kate introduces me to a few people, then starts doing shots with a guy from the newsroom. I roll my eyes. She's all blonde and curvy, with a tight dress and an outgoing personality. She's in her element, and the guys are like bees to honey. Soon there's a crowd around her, and I am free to fade into the background.

How am I supposed to blow off steam without drinking? Who knows. I head over to one of the logs that are set up around the fire. It's quieter over here, and I pull out my copy of Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Like me, she's found herself in a compromising situation. And I'm transported away from the beach and into Tess's world...

A male voice interrupts my reading. "Mind if I sit?"

I look up and he towering over me. Even silhouetted against the sun, I can tell he's tall and muscular...

Um, shit. This is not what I need right now. This is the opposite of what I need right now. But what do I say? No, I wanted this log all to myself?

"Um, no... Go ahead." I scoot over a bit.

He sits, leans forward to see the title of my book, and smirks. "A little light reading?"

Um, well... yes. I'm a bookworm, and I can't drink, so... I shrug. "My roommate's an intern at The Times and... parties aren't my thing. Books are." And I try to get back to my book, but he's still looking at me. He's intrigued now. Crap.

"I'm Christian... Christian Grey. I kind of got dragged here tonight too. My brother's in construction and he just re-built the deck on this house. The guy invited him to come over and grab a beer tonight. It's just supposed to be a quick stop, but…" He gestures over to where a group is still gathered around Kate. Yep, like bees to honey…

I nod. Oh I know how it goes. "I'm Ana..."

"Hello, Ana. I'm going to grab a beer. Want one?"

"Um... no thanks. I promised to be the D.D. tonight." He nods and walks over the the ice buckets.

I should leave. I should get up and disappear... But what am I going to do? Hide?

He comes back with a bottle of beer and a can of Diet Coke. "For the D.D."

"Thanks," I say.

He sits quietly for a minute, sipping his beer. Good. Yes, please lose interest and move on. Believe me, it's for the best.

"So, are you both new graduates? You said you roommate's an intern?" He asks.

"Yep. From WSU-Vancouver. Um, except I'm at SIP? Seattle Independent Publishing?"

"Ah, publishing… very up and coming…"

I blush. "I'm just an intern."

"Never say 'just' Ana. As long as you're doing what you love, that's all that matters."

"So what about you?"

"I'm 'just' a college drop-out. Harvard." He gives me a megawatt grin, and I can't help but grin back. "But seriously… I'm starting my own company, and I was anxious to get started. I borrowed some seed money from an old friend."

Wow, is this guy for real? So he's about my age and starting his own company? Talk about up and coming. He's incredibly good-looking, but still boyish with his tousled copper hair and wide grin.

Why is he even talking to me? I look about sixteen on a good day. I'm skinny, my brown hair is in braids, and I'm wearing a thermal shirt and overalls. Overalls! So this isn't even a good day...

I pop the top on the Diet Coke, take a drink. Oh, that's good... I love Diet Coke and I haven't had one in... two weeks. I know it's been two weeks. Exactly. I didn't plan for this baby and I haven't decided if I'm keeping it. But, just in case, I'm avoiding alcohol and caffeine.

"Wow," I say, "Your own company? What kind of company?"

He raises one hand and gestures in the air in front of us, like he's putting his name on a skyscraper. "Grey Enterprises Holdings, Incorporated," he says. "GEH. I like recognizing small companies that are in trouble. I want to turn them around and make them profitable again. Or," he shrugs, "if needed, break them up and sell the pieces."

"That sounds kind of ruthless," I say.

"It's a ruthless world, Ana," he says. "It's like a game. There's money to be made, and I want IN."

I laugh. Oh, I have no doubt that this guy will come out on top.

"So which one's your roommate?"

"The one in the middle," I say, gesturing to the crowd. "Cheerleader."

"Yep." Kate was a legend on campus... head cheerleader, singer of the national anthem at practically every event. She dated like half of the guys at college, and now she's making her way into the Seattle scene like a blonde bulldozer. And I'm the one who's knocked up after one lousy time. One tiny slip in judgment. Nope, life isn't fair.

"So are you a cheerleader too?"

I laugh out loud. "Do I look like a college cheerleader? I mean, look at me."

"I am."

Oh shit. No, no, no. What is wrong with this guy? This incredibly hot guy... Surely there are at least twenty gorgeous, curvy women at this party who would giggle and fawn over him. I mean, I would if I were them. But I'm not them. And I can't.

Oh but he's sweet and he's gazing at me with the most intent, smoky gray eyes... Surely I can just talk to the guy? I'm supposed to be here to have a little fun, take the edge off. There's no harm in that, right? And so I do. I drop my guard and tell him about being the tag-along in a cheerleader world. How I have been everything from the water girl to the team tutor. He laughs when I tell him about carrying the giant water jugs - by myself - and I am like 105 pounds dripping wet. And how some people just cannot... CANNOT conjugate a verb to save their lives.

He talks about how he just bought his first company with the seed money from his friend. It's a small shipbuilding yard in Bremerton. He hopes to expand the company into manufacturing custom wooden sailboats.

We both love foreign films. He's travelled all over. I'd love to travel... We talk and talk... and laugh. Oh, where was this guy two months ago? I could have avoided stupid Jack Hyde and all this. If I'd had a boyfriend already when I started working at SIP. If I hadn't gone for drinks with him that first Friday night…

Then he does it. Christian reaches over and skims my bottom lip with his thumb. He's going to... Please don't...

I jump back. I actually jump. Sorry! "Um, sorry..." I say. "I'm sorry. I'm just going to use the restroom. Do you want another beer?"

"Sure," he says, pulling back and looking wary. "Thanks."

Oh you'll thank me later. Believe me. And I'm sorry. Really, really sorry.

I go over and pick my way through the group surrounding Kate, tell her I'm not feeling well, and make her promise to call me for a ride or get a cab. Then I find her friend from the newsroom. She introduced us earlier… his name is… Mike! That's it.

"Um, Mike?" I say, grabbing a beer from the ice bucket. "See that guy over there? Can you wait a few minutes, then give him this beer? Say it's from Ana?"

He looks a little puzzled, then shrugs and nods.

And that's it... I'm gone. I hightail it to the car and I'm out of there.

2 months later...

It's the first weekend in September and we are having a heat wave. In Seattle. It's ninety degrees, and I am on a chaise on the front porch trying to catch a breeze. Kate's parents bought her this little bungalow when she graduated and moved here to Seattle in May. We've been living with another roommate, Mallory, but now she's moving in with her boyfriend.

Mallory is one of Kate's cheerleading friends, and she and I have never been close. Okay, she's pretty much a bitch. I am right in the middle of a good book, so I am only vaguely aware of what's going on around me. Mallory's boyfriend and a couple of other guys are trudging back and forth across the porch, lugging her stuff to a waiting U-Haul.

Then a set of footsteps stops suddenly, right by where I'm sitting. I look up and... Oh shit. It's him. Christian. Oh no, no, no. It's hot and I am completely exposed here. I am only wearing a tank top and shorts and under my tank top is my very noticeable belly. Shit! Why can't it be cold enough for a blanket? Even a nice, baggy flannel shirt?

"Ana." He says, surprise and shock registering in his voice.

"Hi Christian..." Crap! I left the guy hanging... totally ditched him. What do I say? "So you're helping Mallory move?"

"Yeah... she's moving in with one of my roommates." He pauses. "Small world, huh?"

Yep, and getting smaller... I just smile and nod. I don't know what else to say.

"Well," he says, "better get back to it."

The next hour is torture. They continue to walk back and forth. And I pretend to read. Maybe I can sneak inside? No, I'll just pass him on the stairs. Ugh! I bend the knee on my leg closest to them, try to position my book over my bump. But I know it's too late. He saw. I hear them finishing up, clinking bottles of beer in the living room.

And then they all leave, shouting good-byes, getting in their cars and the U-Haul. Except one. He comes back up onto the porch, walks over to my chaise.

"Can I join you?"

Is he serious? This guy is a glutton for punishment.

"No... go ahead." I say and bend my other knee up, so he has room at the foot of the chaise.

"So," He says, "What's been up with you?"

I laugh. Seriously?! "If I said 'not much' would you believe me?"

Now he laughs. "No, probably not." Then, "You totally ditched me at that party."

Oh I know... and now you can guess why. "I know," I say, "I freaked out a little. I was going through a rough time. I just... couldn't."

He gives me a sad smile. "I didn't stop thinking about you... for weeks. I can't explain it," he shrugs. "And just when I think it wasn't meant to be… Well, here you are."

I don't even know what to say. I've been thinking about him too. All the what ifs... "I'm sorry," I say. "Really." Okay, now GO. Go get on with your life.

"Are you still with him?" He asks.

Who? Oh... "No."

"Let's go for a walk."

Um, is he serious? Really... just go. It's for your own good. Please just... but instead I say, "Okay. Let me go find some shoes."

I get up quickly, kind of shielding myself with my book, and head inside. Crap! What am I doing? I dash upstairs and grab my Chucks. And I need some sort of... Why isn't it parka weather? I grab a sleeveless gray hoodie. It's not great, but it will have to do. I pull out my hair tie and comb through my hair quickly, put it back up, smooth my bangs to one side. I throw my phone and keys into the hoodie pockets and scurry back downstairs. Maybe he came to his senses and left... Nope. He's still there, in living color, on my porch.

He stands. "Ready?"

Um, no. "Yep."

I lock up and we walk in silence the few blocks to the waterfront. It's low tide, the pebbled beach strewn with seaweed and driftwood.

We walk along the shore, both lost in our own thoughts, to the point. We make our way out on the boulders and finally sit - looking out at the water.

"So," he says, "I barely touched you, and I show up months later... to find this." He gestures to my belly.

I laugh out loud. Hard. I can't help it. What is it with this guy and his sense of humor that can defuse any situation?

I catch my breath, smile at him. "And I enjoyed it... really. But even you aren't… that talented."

He smiles back, just waits.

I sober. "I had just broken up with him, my 'boyfriend' earlier that day." I shrug. "He and I had very different ideas about how to handle the... situation."

He's still sitting quietly, waiting for me to finish.

"We weren't really together. It was just a one-time thing, after too many beers. I had just started my new job, my adult life. I wanted to fit in… Anyway, afterwards the - um, situation - kind of forced us together for a couple of weeks. But then I dumped him." I grin.

"Not good enough for you?"

"Nope. Not by a long shot."

We sit quietly for a few minutes.

"So you weren't... up for it. That night. I guess I get it."

"I wanted to be. I wish I had met you a couple of months earlier. That's for sure."

After another minute, he asks, "So what's it like... being... you know..."

"Pregnant?"

He nods.

I just look at him... considering the question.

"Sorry... I shouldn't have asked you that. It's too personal."

"No," I say quickly, "it's... I don't know... weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. I mean, like I'm supposed to be all emotional or super dramatic or have strange cravings... but I don't. I just feel like... myself. Well, a freaked out, ever-expanding version of myself anyway." I grin.

He laughs, "Freaked out? Yeah I guess I would be freaked out too. So how long, I mean... when?"

"I'm about four months, so mid-February?"

He's quiet again. Okay, so... change of subject. Please!

"Did you grow up around here?" He asks.

I tell him about growing up in Montesano with my step-father, Ray. That he's amazing and has always been there for me, even after my mother left to chase after her romantic ideals. She seems to be settled in with husband number four in Savannah, at least for now. I tell him how Kate and I were paired randomly as freshmen at WSU-V, and we've been living together ever since.

Christian tells me about growing up in Bellevue. He was adopted at age four, and since then has led the stereotypical upper-middle class lifestyle. His father is a lawyer and his mother is a doctor. He has two siblings, Elliot and Mia, who were also adopted.

His father, Carrick, instilled a love of the outdoors in his children. "I was thinking of taking off for a few days," he says. "Maybe hike some of the Pacific Crest Trail. It's my happy place."

I smile. "That sounds amazing."

"So what does your family think about... you know..."

I sigh. "My mom thinks I should have… ended it. She thinks I need to be young and single, focus on my career, find romance. She was the same age as me - twenty-one - when she got pregnant. She married my dad, but I'm not sure that's what she really wanted. Anyway, he was in the service and was killed in a training accident right after I was born. We were living at Fort Lewis, and my father's friend - Ray - took over caring for us. She married him too, but I'm not sure she ever loved him. And I can't help but wonder if… if she had to do it over again…" I shrug. I can't go there.

"And your step-father?"

"Ray's… I don't know. Disappointed? I mean, he's pissed at the situation, but not at me. He's supportive of whatever I decide."

"Which is?"

I shrug, "I haven't decided yet."

"And the father? Was he at college with you?"

"No, he worked at SIP. He was another intern."

"Was?"

"Jack had been there for almost a year already, and I guess he was… working his way through the female staff? And videotaping them… I mean, us." I blush. "Anyway, the day of the party? After I broke up with him, I turned him in."

"Wow, that took guts. So what happened to him?"

"His daddy is well-connected, and he bailed him out. They wanted to pay me off, keep me quiet. But in the end, I decided that he'd just keep hurting more women."

"So is he in jail?"

"No, worse. He's with about twenty other guys on one of daddy's fishing boats in Alaska. I think he'll be there awhile…" I laugh. "What about you? I'm sure you've had your share of girlfriends."

He sobers. "I haven't really done the girlfriend thing. My 'friend' who gave me the seed money? We were… together until recently. She was older and… more experienced. When we ended things, she wanted to set me up with some acquaintances of hers. And I've been holding back. I think I was waiting for something… different."

"So you were together, but she wasn't your girlfriend?"

"No. I had a rough start in life. Before I was adopted? And she gave me a… physical outlet."

Hmm… okay. I'm confused, but I can tell he's done talking. For now. He's staring off into the water, deep in his past.

"Okay," I say, breaking the spell. "Let's walk back."

We're quiet again on the walk back. I can't believe we said all that to each other! I don't even want to know what he's thinking. He probably can't wait to get back to his car.

When we get to the porch, I say, "Well thanks for the... walk." He's not budging. Okay, go to your car now.

He's not leaving, he's leaning in. Oh shit. He cups the back of my neck with his hand, then skims his fingers along my jaw. I want to bolt. Again.

He gauges my expression, the tension in my body. "Don't run," he whispers.

I let out the breath I'm holding, turn and unlock the door, open it. "You coming or going?" I ask.

He just grins - a gorgeous ear-splitting smile - and follows me inside. Oh my. This is going to be interesting.

I go use the bathroom, offer to make us sandwiches, tell him to help himself to the leftover beers.

It's about 1:30 when we settle in at the dining room table with our turkey sandwiches. He's looking around the room, at our bookshelves and knick-knacks. Then his eyes settle in one spot and he smiles. I turn and look. Scrabble.

"You play?" He asks.

"Christian, I don't 'play' Scrabble. I take it very seriously." Yep, that's a threat... and an invitation.

He smiles again, gets up and retrieves the game. We play and he's... not bad. He's actually a decent player. But, in the end, I whip him. Badly. I finish him off when I get the 'J' on the double letter, triple word score. I sit back and grin. "2013 Northwest Teen Scrabble Champion," I boast.

"Impressive," He says. Then he gets up, comes and leans over me. He pauses for just a moment before I am scooped up and placed on his lap, facing him.

This time, he's not taking any of my shit. He grabs my wrists with one hand, restraining me. And the other hand grips my chin, pulls me in. And I give up. Right or wrong, I'm only human. And I melt - we melt - joining together until we are just lips and limbs and sensation... I can feel my belly pressing against him, and I know he must feel it too. But mostly what I feel is... electricity. It snaps between us and the sparks fly.

I can feel him stir and harden beneath me. Ah! I flex my hips and grind against him. Mmmm…. it feels so… Abruptly he grasps my hips, sits up, slides me off his lap. He looks a little... guilty. He clears his throat. "What are you doing to me? I'm not sure I should be... Is this even okay?"

I sit in the chair next to him, chin on my hands. "I could say the same. But I don't know. I feel like I should tell you to go, save yourself. But…"

"But what?"

I shrug. "But I don't want to."

We just sit for a minute. "It's quiet," he says. "Don't you have roommates?"

"Yes, well one less as of today. Now it's just me and Kate. And she left this morning on a trip to Barbados with her family." Kate would get to take a vacation after only working for six weeks. But her father is an entertainment industry mogul, and he has connections.

"So you're staying here all alone."

I shrug. "Yep, until next Sunday."

He smiles again. And this time it's mischievous... his eyes are twinkling. Yep, we are all alone here. No one to know, no one to judge. Oh boy.

It's now three o'clock. Oh, that turkey sandwich is making me sleepy. I could take a nap… with Christian. NO. "Want to watch a movie?" I ask. I know we both like foreign films, and I have a decent collection. Okay, I have an excellent collection. I have over three hundred foreign books and films culled from library sales and used bookstores over the years.

I lead him over to the cabinet in the living room, open it, and hear his sharp intake of breath. "Oh wow... you have... and..." He skims his finger along the titles, finally pulling out one of my favorites. It's the original Italian version of Il Postino: The Postman.

I grin and pop it in and we settle into the leather couch. Kate's mom redecorates every couple of years, so we always have really nice cast-offs. It's cool in here, the air-conditioner blasting away, so I grab a blanket, relieved to cover myself. I just want to look - and feel - normal for awhile.

We sit side by side, watching, but I know he's planning his next move. And the anticipation is making my body hum. Oh he knows it. It's rolling off me in waves.

Finally he yawns dramatically and stretches, bringing one arm down around my shoulders.

I giggle. "Nice move... very subtle." I look up at him and his eyes are twinkling, playful. Okay, I'll play. "You wanna make out?" I ask.

He chuckles. "What are we, fifteen?"

I shrug. "Whatever. If you don't want to…"

He rolls his eyes, but grins and leans in, again grabbing my wrists in one hand. We kiss and it's wet and sloppy, lots of tongue. When he finally pulls back, my lips are tingling. I lick them, tasting the tang of him in my mouth.

"First base," he whispers, his eyes darkening.

He unzips my hoodie and slides one hand under my tank top, keeping to the side and skimming up my ribs. His fingers slide along my skin, and I can feel goosebumps rise up in their path. I can't move... can't breathe... I can just feel... And his hand reaches my bra, skims across, his thumb on my nipple.

"Ah!" I say, and my hips flex automatically, my insides clench, and desire pools deep in my belly. It radiates all the way down there. "Mmm..."

He pulls the fabric of my bra down, traces my areola, and tugs at my nipple. Then he moves to the other side, repeats the process. I can feel his erection at my hip, digging in, eager for more. Oh, for some reason that I cannot fathom, this beautiful man wants me. Me! Plain old skinny, knocked-up me. And I want him too.

I know he wants to do more, probably with his mouth, but I know he won't. He won't undress me, cross that line. Not yet anyway... Instead, he removes his hand, kisses me again, and pulls back. "Second base." And we grin.

We snuggle in and watch the rest of the movie. I guess he's done running the bases. For now.

"Let's order some dinner," he says as the credits roll.

Okay, so he's not leaving anytime soon. "Um, Okay," I say.

We order Chinese - way too much Chinese - and he insists on paying for it all. We gorge on spicy Kung Pao chicken, dumplings, fried rice with shrimp. Then we read each other's fortunes, adding 'in bed' to the end of each one, and laugh hysterically.

After dinner, he raids the stash of beer. And we talk and laugh and talk some more. I gather up the take-out containers and put them in the kitchen trash, check the time. Ten-thirty. Is he going to stay or go? The rational part of me thinks he should GO. The rest of me? It says definitely NOT.

He comes in, bringing the rest of the trash. "It's getting late," he says softly.

"Yep," I say, "it's almost my bedtime."

Please say you'd better go...

Please say you don't want to go.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No." Anastasia Steele! Fuck.

Hmm, now what? "Want to sit outside? In the back?"

He grabs another beer, and I fix myself a glass of ice water. We settle into a pair of Adirondack chairs on the tiny patio. The heat from the day is still radiating off the concrete slab and the warmth presses in around us. It feels cozy. And safe.

I lay my head back, shut my eyes. We just sit quietly, listening to the city around us. He reaches out after a bit, takes my hand.

"Mmm," I sigh, opening my eyes and turning to look at him.

"Still awake?"

I stifle a yawn. "Yes."

"Can I tell you something?"

"I've never slept with a woman before."

What? He can't be serious. "What about…"

He interrupts, shaking his head. "We didn't sleep together. We just fucked. Hard."

Ohh.

"I told you that I had a rough start in life, and I couldn't bear to be touched. I still can't… not on my chest or back. And I don't like to take off my shirt. For anyone."

He considers my expression and I try to remain impassive, let him finish.

"So this is new… and a little scary. So maybe we can - you know - respect each other's boundaries? Only do what we're comfortable with?"

I nod. Yep, I definitely have my own limitations. And I should stick to them. This can only go so far… "Yeah I think that we shouldn't - you know - because of…" and I gesture to my belly. "And also, Jack was my - um - first? And, not that I have anything to compare it to, but…" I wrinkle my nose, "it was very quick and… not great. You know, coitus interruptus?"

Now it's his turn to nod. "We don't have to do anything we don't want to do. You know that, right?"

I look at him. "I'd never do anything I didn't want to do."

We stand and make our way through the house. I turn off the lights, check the locks.

And then I lead him upstairs to my room. It's all white wicker furniture, with a blue and white quilt. It's girly and peaceful... or it was. He looms large in my space, checking out my walls of books, my framed photos. There's no air conditioning up here, and it's warm. I reach up and pull the cord to turn on my ceiling fan.

I grab a black camisole and sleep shorts. "Be right back," I say and head into my en-suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. Shit, am I doing this? Okay, we'll just sleep... clothes stay on. Right?

I use the bathroom, change quickly, brush my teeth. While he uses the bathroom, I get into bed. I stretch my back out, try to relax. But my breathing is quick, my heart hammering in my chest.

He comes back in, just in his t-shirt and boxer briefs. Oh God… He slides in beside me. I turn so he can spoon me, and I snuggle in. "Just breathe, Ana," he whispers.

I can smell mint on his breath. Wait a minute… "Did you brush your teeth?"

I can feel him chuckle against my back. "I used your toothbrush," he says. "Now sleep."

And I do. Wrapped in his arms, with the day's events swirling through my head, I do.

I wake to a bright Seattle morning, with the sunshine streaming in. And I'm warm. I'm really warm. This blanket is so heavy… and, oh, memories of yesterday come rushing in. It's not a blanket, it's Christian. Christian Grey is in my bed. He's in my bed and on me. One arm is under my neck, the other across my chest. His legs are entwined with mine and they're heavy. And sweaty. We are one big, sweaty tangle of limbs.

I don't want to wake him, but the heat is unbearable and I have to pee. Badly. I try to shift just a little. Ugh, he's so heavy… and I feel him stretch against me. Mmm… well one part of him is definitely awake. I can feel it pushing into my backside as he moves.

He moves his hand from my chest to my hair, smoothing it back from my damp forehead. "Good morning, beautiful," he says softly. Then, "Jeez, Ana, you're burning up. Are you okay?"

"Yes, just… really warm. And I need to pee. Can you… please?"

He pulls away from me, disentangling himself. And I quickly scoot off the bed and into the bathroom. After relieving myself, I check out my reflection. I am flushed and sweaty, and my hair is definitely not having a good morning. I scoop it up into a ponytail, then splash my face and neck with cool water. Better.

I head back into the bedroom and there he is. All tousel-haired and yummy, propped up against my iron headboard. I crawl up onto the bed and straddle his legs. "Talk about 'good morning beautiful,'" I say, then lean forward. He tenses and I stop, remembering that he doesn't like to be touched on the chest. I give a little nod, and grip the iron bars on either side of his head. He smiles, and I lean in for my kiss. This time, it's soft and sweet and slow as we explore each other. Something in me clicks and turns over. I'm falling for him. Hard. Oh, what have I done?

...

In the end, Christian doesn't go on his hike. He goes home to get a few things, then spends the rest of the Labor Day weekend with me. We cook together, watch more foreign films, lie in the hammock, and just have a relaxing and lazy weekend. On Monday morning, we get up early to beat the heat, and drive up to Snoqualomie Pass, taking Christian's sleek Audi S5 convertible. After I slide into the low car, he hands me pair of Ray-Bans and a Mariners baseball cap. Yes!

Christian takes the Denny Creek exit off of I-90 and parks at the Franklin Falls trailhead. "Oh!" I say, "I've been here with Ray, but it's been years."

"It's one of my favorites," he says. "It's a good hike for a hot day." He grabs his day pack and we start up the trail. It's steep, with some switchbacks, as it winds up Snoqualomie Mountain. I have to stop and catch my breath a few times, but I do okay. Christian patiently waits for me, giving me time to drink some water and rest. By the time we reach the outcropping with the falls, the temperature is over ninety degrees. Christian takes my hand and leads me across the mossy boulders to the little ledge behind the falls. The mist from the rushing water feels amazing and cools us right off.

I reach out, cupping water in my hands, and splash it on my face. When I look up again, Christian's watching me, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

He doesn't say anything, just keeps eyeing me.

What? I look down and my white t-shirt is now almost completely see-through. Ohh… and it's clinging to me. My red lacy bra, my now-chilled nipples… everything. "Oh!" I squeal, wrapping my arms around myself. "Maybe white wasn't the best choice today."

"Oh, I think it was," he growls, and then pulls me in, kissing me long and hard. He keeps one hand on my chin, but the other travels down… over my bra, across my nipple, tracing my ribcage down my side. He rests his hand on my hip, then stops and pulls back, looks at me.

"It's okay," I whisper.

Very slowly, he brings his hand forward and lightly skims it across my belly. Then he cups it with his hand. "It's so firm," he whispers. "Mmm… and so sexy."

I pull him in for another kiss. "Okay," I say, "You need to feed me now."

We've packed a blanket and a picnic in Christian's day pack, and we settle on the blanket in the meadow and dig in. Chicken salad on croissants, sweet red grapes, fudgy brownies with walnuts, and sparkling water. Oh, I'm famished and it's all delicious. After polishing off every bit of food, we lie back and stretch out, letting our clothes dry in the sun.

I put my arm over my eyes to block out the sun, and I'm suddenly so sleepy. The hike, the food, the breeze, the sunshine…. I'm starting to drift when he asks, "So can you feel it?"

Feel what? He's not even touching me. Ohh… "A little, just in the last week or so. And you know what it feels like? Gas bubbles." I uncover my eyes and look over at him.

He's smirking, of course. But then he sobers, sits up. "So what do you think you're going to do? You know, after?"

I sit up too, my knees touching his. "I don't know." I say softly. "Obviously I didn't go for option A. Option B… adoption? Maybe that's the best. For everyone involved. But I don't know if I'm brave enough." Tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"And option C?"

"I raise it as a twenty-two year old single mother. So how do I choose? My child or my youth?" I can feel a tear escape and slide down my cheek.

Christian pulls me in, wipes away my tear with his thumb. He lies back down, pulling me with him, and I rest my head on his chest. "I'm not even going to begin to tell you what to do," he says softly. "But I want to be with you… whatever you decide. Now sleep, baby."

And I drift,, feeling Christian's breathing and heartbeat, wishing for the hundredth time that he was the father instead of Jack. And I think I feel, more than hear, Christian whisper, "I wish it was mine."

That evening, we grill out on the patio and - like the first two nights - we head up to my bedroom. The upstairs is stifling, the temperature has been building on itself over the past few days. I change into a clean camisole and panties, but they stick to me immediately. Ugh, I am not going to be able to sleep. I look over at Christian, and his gray t-shirt is sweat-stained. Beads of sweat are breaking out on his brow. Is he thinking what I'm thinking? "We could sleep downstairs on the couch… where it's cooler? Or…"

"Or?" He quirks an eyebrow, daring me to finish.

I take a deep breath. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

He nods, almost imperceptibly, but it's enough. And we are peeling off our sweaty clothing, until we are both completely naked. I can't help but soak in the sight of him. God, he's beautiful. His chest is broad and toned, with just a smattering of golden chest hair. And then there's his happy trail that starts just below his six-pack and leads down to his… I blush and look up, meet his eyes.

"You're gorgeous," he says softly. "I could gaze at you all night. Come, get into bed."

I lie down on my back, naked and exposed to him. He slides in next to me, on his side, propped up on one elbow.

He traces one nipple with his fingers, then his tongue. Ah! My hips arch and I can feel my groin starting to swell and pulse with desire. Ohh… He repeats his affections on the other side, inhaling sharply through his teeth as he thrusts against my hip.

I turn my head into his chest, and I can see several round marks. Are they scars? I can't… He catches me looking, and stiffens, then rolls me over so I'm facing away from him. He settles back against me, and his chest hair tickles my back. And down below… I can feel the satiny ridge of his erection pressing against my backside. And he starts to slide it up and down, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.

"Mmmm..." I moan. And I push back against him, the friction building between us. Oh, I am starting to climb… And then his hand is between my thighs, separating my legs... reaching between them, in there.

"Okay?" He asks.

"Yes," I say. Oh, don't stop now. His finger finds my opening and he thrusts it in, begins to circle. "Mmmm..."

"Oh Ana, you're sopping wet." He murmurs, then "third base." And I giggle. I know he is grinning. He starts to pull back, breaking the contact between us.

No, no, no… where is he going? "I don't want you to stop," I pant.

"You said before that you didn't want to…"

"That was before. Please don't stop," I beg.

He pauses, considering for a heartbeat - two - then settles back against me.

"Do you want me to get a condom?" He whispers.

Hmm... "No."

And then I feel him position himself. I am so slick and wet... and with a quick thrust, he's in. "Ohhh..." I say.

"Oh baby... you feel so..." He says, and he begins to move... slowly at first, then picking up the pace. "Oh. You. Are. So. Sweet. You. Feel. So. Good." He says with each thrust. He grips my hip with his hand, and I push back... riding him, building quickly, and I take what I need. I take what Jack didn't give me... Ohh! I explode, falling in pieces, down and around us. He thrusts forcefully - twice more - before grunting deep in his throat... coming inside me.

And then we melt, back onto the bed, our breathing and heartbeats in sync. "Home run," he whispers.

Holy... that was amazing. Oh, this has been the hottest night of my life.

...

And so Christian stayed with me all week, and we settled into a domestic routine. We both went to work during the day, and spent the evenings and nights together. Slowly, signs of him in my life began to appear. His dress shoes by the door, his laptop on the coffee table, his toothbrush in my bathroom, his tie around my headboard. Okay, well the tie was intentional. Oh that tie… and I rub my wrists just thinking about it.

Most evenings, we cooked together and then curled up on the couch. He worked on his laptop, and I read through a manuscript or two. One evening, we walked to a little fish shack on the beach, feasting on vinegar-soaked fish 'n chips, trying not to burn our mouths and fingers.

As far as the nights, we christened just about every surface in the little bungalow. The kitchen island, where we could go at it missionary-style without holding back, was hands-down our favorite.

...

Too soon, it's Sunday evening and almost time for Kate to get back from Barbados. Christian leaves around four o'clock, kissing me warmly and promising me that we'll figure it out. I check the house for evidence of him, then change into my comfiest sweats and crash out on the couch.

A couple of hours later, Kate breezes in - all tan and glowing... bubbling on about booze and coral and white sandy beaches. She had a close encounter with a jellyfish, and she shrieks as she tells me about it, her arms flailing wildly.

Kate's phone starts pinging with all sorts of backlogged messages. It was out of service in Barbados. She starts reading some of them, giving me a summary as she goes. She really is a social butterfly. "Oh here's one from someone I met at the beach party earlier this summer? He was so cute so I gave him my digits… Anyway he was with someone at the time… but they just broke up… Can't get me off his mind…" She giggles and blushes. Kate's actually blushing! Oh, she must have really liked him too.

We order pizza and eat it straight out of the box, watching crap TV and laughing hysterically.

Finally around 10:00, I uncurl from my nest on the couch, standing to stretch out my aching back. "Okay," I say, "your vacation is officially over… and we both have to work tomorrow."

Kate looks up, checking me out. "Wow, you look even more…"

I cut her off. "I know, Kate." I roll my eyes. Jeez, she has no filter. But I love her for it.

"How do you feel? And how's your job? I feel bad about leaving you here alone. What did you do all week?"

"I'm okay… and it's good. My week was fine… I mostly just hung around. You know."

She knows. She is used to me being a hermit, my head in a book.

Over the next couple days, Christian and I text back and forth. It's fun and flirty - and maybe a little naughty - but it's not the same. It feels like my other half is missing. After work on Wednesday, I stop at the store and get ingredients for chicken fajitas - one of my specialties. I am the cook in the house, so I usually make dinner on my nights. Kate is an expert at ordering take-out.

I get home and start on dinner while Kate looks on, glass of wine in hand. Her phone pings with an incoming text message.

"Ooh!" She says, "It's him again. Do you care if he comes over tonight?"

"Sure," I say, "I got plenty of groceries… Which guy again? Someone from work?" And I take a long drink of my lemonade.

"No, he's in construction I think. His name is Elliot-something…" She shrugs, typing a response. Her phone pings again. "He says his brother, Christian, wants to come along. Is that okay?"

And I choke. I spew my lemonade into the sink, coughing and trying to catch my breath.

"Ana! God, are you okay?"

"Mmm-hmm." I say, wiping my mouth and trying to act casual.

"What?" She says.

Shit. Here we go...

"Do you know him?" And she stares at me, her eyes narrowing to a steely glint.

"Um," I say, returning to slice up the peppers, keeping my voice casual, "he spent the week with me."

I look back up, and her face is blank while she processes this. "Wait. When? Just now? While I was gone?"

"Umm-hmm."

"Ana! What. The. Fuck. You said you just hung around..."

"I did! Just not... alone." And then I spill it. The party... meeting up with him again... hanging out. Okay, so I don't give her ALL the details. "We're friends. He's nice."

"Nice? Huh." She smiles - an evil grin - and texts Elliot back. Oh, she wants Christian to come over.

About twenty minutes later, the boys arrive, bringing a case of beer and a whole lot of testosterone into our little house.

Oh, Elliot is cute… boyishly handsome, tall, and well-built. Hmm, the Grey brothers. I know they're both adopted, so that makes it even more incredible. Right away, I can tell that Elliot is more playful and openly affectionate. He scoops Kate up, swings her around, and then dips her low to the floor. Setting her back on her feet, he gives her a playful smooch on the lips.

While this is happening, Christian is looking right at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He points at himself, then me, then puts his finger to his lips.

Oh, okay, so this is how we're going to play it, Mr. Grey? I'm IN.

"... and this is Ana," Kate bubbles, looking from me to Elliot to Christian.

"Ana," says Elliot, striding over to shake my hand. "Kate's told me so much about you…" His eyes widen slightly as he takes me in.

I blush and shake his hand. "Hello, Elliot." Yeah, she didn't tell you everything, did she? This night is going to be full of surprises…

"And this is my baby brother, Christian," he says, and Kate and I both shake Christian's hand. His hand grasps mine firmly, lingering for just a moment.

"Well," I announce. "Dinner's just about ready. If you can all give me a hand setting it out?"

I direct them in putting out the tortillas in their warmer, the shredded cheese, sour cream, and homemade guacamole, plates and silverware. Finally, I bring over the pan of sizzling chicken, peppers, and onions.

We all shuffle around each other, arranging the ingredients and filling our plates. When I lean over to pull the guacamole out of the fridge, I feel Christian walk by and skim his fingers across my ass. And while he's filling his plate, I reach across him, rubbing my hand down the length of his forearm. "Excuse me," I say innocently.

We sit down at the dining room table, Elliot at the head with Kate to his right. Christian sits to Elliot's left, with me beside him.

Elliot raises his bottle of Dos Equis in a toast. "To new friends," he says. Christian and Kate raise their bottles, and they all look at me.

I sigh and roll my eyes, raising my glass of ice water. "And you all suck," I say, laughing. After a second's pause, they join me, and we clink together to seal the deal.

Elliot and Kate are both in high spirits, and they carry the dinner conversation. I watch them and decide that they do make an adorable couple. They're both blonde and good-looking, loud and extroverted. They both grew up in privileged families, but are hard workers. Elliot tells stories about some of his crazy customers in the construction business.

While Elliot's going on about a customer who changed his mind about the shape of his roofline three times, I feel Christian put his hand on my knee. He squeezes it firmly, then slides his fingers to the inside of my thigh. Then slowly, his expression of humored attention never changing, he begins to work his fingers up…

My reflexes kick in and I gasp, shutting my thighs on his hand.

Elliot stops mid-sentence and glares at Christian. "Dude, what the fuck are you two playing at?"

Christian looks at me, I look at him, and we burst out laughing. "Gotcha!" He says, and then points at Elliot. "And you think you're the king of practical jokes."

But Elliot isn't laughing. "Did you… I mean, is that your…" he stutters. "I mean, I thought you were GAY!"

Oh! Oh, shit. We did not think this all the way through. And Christian is definitely not gay.

Christian sobers quickly and raises both hands in a plea for innocence. "Keep your pants on, Elliot." He says. "First of all, no I am not gay. And we met at the party too. And that was only two months ago. We're friends. Got it?"

Elliot looks at me and I nod. It's true, right? We're friends. I mean, sort of…

We clear the food and dishes away and bring out a deck of cards. After some serious debating, we decide to play poker. Being the only truly sober one in the room, I clean up, winning the $26 pot.

"Okay, okay," Elliot finally jokes. "She's wiping me out here. But seriously, I have to be on the site at five o'clock tomorrow morning. Ready, bro?"

Christian turns and looks at me.

I shrug. "I don't know, Grey, are you coming or going?"

We grin and head upstairs, leaving the two of them gaping in our wake. And it's priceless.

By the time we reach my room, we're really going at it. Touching, groping, yanking off our clothes.

"That was fun," he growls. "But it's been a long three days. And right now I want to fuck you into the middle of next week."

Oh my. It's gonna be another hot summer night.