I wrote this for the Marine Corps Birthday, November 10, but got busy and never uploaded it…so here it is. It's a one shot at this time. Enjoy! I do not own the characters from FSOG. They belong to E.L. James.
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Gail's POV
The lasagna is flawless, the salad with homemade dressing of red wine, olive oil and crushed herbs is cold and crisp, the garlic bread is cheesy melty perfection, the Italian green beans tender crisp. The tiramisu is chilled. I remember the last time I made tiramisu for an event - several men asked me to marry them if I guaranteed they could have seconds. The wine I have selected for dinner will complement my cooking. I am sure Mr. Grey, Taylor and Sawyer will enjoy my culinary efforts. If anyone asks why the feast, it's November10th and we're celebrating the Marine Corps Birthday in honor of Taylor.
I threw myself into cooking today. I threw myself into housework today. I've rearranged the furniture in the staff quarters living room today, giving the main living space a deep cleaning. I moved the dining table in the staff quarters closer to the picture window. I need something to look at other than Taylor's face during dinner tonight. He kissed me this morning. He pushed me up against the front door of the staff living room and kissed me – and I believe he would have kissed me again except his phone rang and I had a chance to escape. He was gone the rest of the day…and I have not looked forward to this evening. I don't know if he will kiss me again…or if he's waiting for me to mention it… or if it was a one off and I shouldn't even be thinking about his mouth and how much I want to feel it on other parts of my body.
When I serve dinner, Taylor pours wine for us; Sawyer is on duty and drinks coffee. I start to eat and accept the compliments of Sawyer and Taylor. I try to concentrate on my food. When I look up, Taylor tongues the rim of his wine glass and I'm lost, remembering his tongue plundering my mouth early this morning. Desires awakened this morning overwhelm me. I excuse myself, leave my plate on the counter, and pour my wine down the sink. I escape to my room.
I sit there for a long time, staring out the window at the grey November sky. I can't be sequestered in my room all night, avoiding Taylor. I dress in my exercise clothes despite my physical activities today. I pull my hair into a ponytail, pull on my cross trainers and emerge back into the staff living room. Sawyer stops mid bite and stares at me. Taylor's eyes narrow when he sees me walk out the door. I take the staff elevator to the gym and begin running on a treadmill. Claude is there, coming out of the men's locker room, after cleaning up from his workout with Mr. Grey. His face registers amazement I am there. He walks around the gym talking to other building residents, answering questions about his training programs. After I finish my run, I try to wear myself out on the elliptical. It's not working…and I might as well relax in a hot bubble bath and drink a glass of wine. They might make me relax and sort out the feelings I have for Taylor.
Claude finishes his rounds as I head for the elevator. "Claude…if you haven't eaten, I have lasagna, salad, garlic bread and homemade tiramisu…and a lovely bottle of red wine." Claude joins me in the elevator. I usually extend my dinner invitations to him via Mr. Grey, but Claude is grateful for the personal invitation. Sawyer and Taylor are speechless when I reappear with Claude. He fixes himself a plate while I plate tiramisu for us both. Claude's moans of appreciation for dinner cause Sawyer to exit our quarters as quickly as possible. I retrieve my cold dinner, nuke it and join Claude at the table. We talk about how I've been too busy to get to the gym at night or early in the morning. Claude suggests a Pilates class being organized for midmorning, or he recommends using the building pool more often. I laugh and comment that I need to shop for a couple swim suits – and ignore Taylor staring at me instead of the football game on TV.
When Claude finishes dinner, he stays to watch football with Taylor – and I spend time clearing the dining room table, putting food away and cleaning the kitchen. I go off to my room, gather my pajamas and go take a long, hot bubble bath, complete with wine glass and the remainder of the bottle of wine. When I come out, the TV is silent; Claude is nowhere to be seen. The entry door to the staff quarters is closed, along with Taylor's bedroom door. The lights are out in the quarters. Ambient light of the Seattle skyline provides enough light through the picture window that I can see to return to my room.
"Did you have a nice run?" Taylor's voice floats over the darkness.
I shrug and continue to my room. "The bubble bath was more relaxing…" I mutter.
Taylor is behind me in the dark, his hand on mine as I reach for my door knob.
"Do you want me…" he paused, "to help you relax?"
"I want you…hard, and hot, and fast," my voice trembles. "And if you can't do that…I need you to step away Marine."
My bedroom door is open and Taylor has thrown me on my bed… before I can voice a gasp of surprise, he has captured my mouth again…Oorah…feel safe…sleep with a Marine!
"Happy birthday baby," I whisper to him.