Hi guys! Firstly I want to say thank you to Jesse Van Oosbree for doing a wonderful job at beta-ing this chapter for me and I also want to say thank you for all the wonderful reviews/faves/follows/pms! You're all completely amazing. Please keep them coming!

I think this chapter may be what you guys have been waiting for, I love it & I hope you guys do too. Until next time ~

Chapter 10: Unnecessary Explanations & Un-Refusable Proposals

I was speechless.

I had absolutely no idea what to say. Did he seriously expect me to answer that question?

I thought about lying, but he could see right through me. It would be no use.

"Well?" He prompted.

"I heard a bang" I said, deciding to go with complete honesty.

His eyes seemed to pierce my burning skin. "And you just happened to think it came from that particular room?"

"I-I mean I checked other rooms, so I thought it must be…" I trailed off when I saw the way he was regarding me with those deep, endless eyes.

"Are you angry with me?" My voice softened even more than before.

Christian looked at me for a long moment. It felt endless, and the silence didn't help ease things either. I tried to look anywhere but at him. He had this magnetism that pulled my gaze to meet his.

He shook his head. "No. I'm not mad."

A weight felt like it had been lifted from my chest as I heaved a huge sigh of relief, but it wasn't long before I became flustered once more. He'd known that I was in there, he knew I'd been in the – what did he just call it? The playroom? It sounded so-

"Why didn't you tell me?"

My heart was caught in my throat. "I didn't know what to say," I admitted. "Everything I thought of just sounded wrong, like I was snooping. I didn't want you to think badly of me." My head dropped.

There, I said it. The truth. My body tensed. I looked up into his eyes only to realize that his were searching mine. I wasn't sure of what he was looking for, but I hoped he would find it soon as I could feel myself coming undone.

"Do you have any questions?" He asked with tight lips. His index finger tapped against his temple as his head rested against his fist.

That was certainly not what I was expecting him to say. Had I heard him right? Did I have any 'questions'? Well of course I had questions, but it all seemed like a blur at this point. I couldn't get anything out. What? Did he expect me to just start quizzing him on his extracurricular activities?

"I... well... it's kind of private," I forced out. "Whatever you do in your own time and in your own house is none of my business."

I didn't want to admit how much the truth of those words stung, but it really wasn't any of my business. I was incredibly conflicted. It wasn't my business, but did I want it to be? I couldn't be sure of that answer right now so I filed it away to the back of my brain, ready to unlock another time.

"You're right, it is private," he agreed.

I nodded and looked away.

"But if you don't mind, I would like to explain things myself to you. I can't have you thinking ill of me."

My eyes flashed up to his immediately as I shook my head. "I don't think ill of you" I assured him. Well, not completely. But I didn't say that.

"Still. You must have some doubts. I can only imagine the types of things running around your head. Come, let me show you." He beckoned for my hand as he got to his feet. It was both elegant and confident.

"Come where?"

"To my playroom. I'd like to show you myself."

"A-are you being serious?"

He had to be joking. He just had to be.

"Do I make jokes often, Miss Steele?" He asked as he arched his perfectly shaped eyebrow.

I tried to speak, but words wouldn't come out. I stood up and followed him wordlessly. My eyes were fixated on him the whole time as he led the way.

In a matter of seconds I was standing in front of the door to Mr Grey's playroom, and I was one hundred percent sure that he was trying to humiliate me to death. This was my punishment for coming into this room wasn't it? I knew he couldn't be as understanding and nonchalant as he was pretending to be. No, this was his revenge. He motioned me forward and I took a few tentative steps.

"Why do you have this room?" I stuttered, breaking through the silence. It really was a stupid question.

"Isn't it obvious?" He wore a smirk as I flushed.

"Well you did say you would explain, didn't you?"

"You're right," he said. "As I said earlier, this is my playroom and I use it to engage in... Sexual acts." A sly smile crossed his face.

'Sexual acts'? Well I suppose that was one way to phrase it.

"Sexual acts? With this stuff?"

He shrugged casually as though we were discussing his dinner preferences.

"Why not? This is what I enjoy. It's who I am."

"Do you do this to people or do they do it to you?" I asked. I could feel my whole body burning up with embarrassment, but the curiosity was taking over. I couldn't help myself.

"People? No. I do this to women who want me to, Anastasia."

"Of course." I murmured under my breath. He was acting as if all of this should be obvious to me.

"But I thought you said you didn't have a girlfriend."

"And I was telling the truth. I don't really do the whole 'girlfriend' thing. I do, although, have 'submissives' and I only engage with them on the weekends."

I vaguely registered the term. "Do you have a 'submissive' now?"

It felt weird to say the word.

Submissive.

It was like a completely new language.

I had waited to know the reasons behind his secrets, but I was now starting to wish I had left them in the dark where they probably belonged.

"No, I don't."

The relief washed through me even though I tried to suppress it.

"How many have you had?"

My breathing hitched as I anticipated his answer. 10? 20? Oh god what if it was 20? Mr Grey just laughed. He actually laughed at me. My first thought was that he should laugh more often because it made him look even more beautiful. My second was how stupid I must've sounded asking such a ridiculous question.

"I've had-" he closed one eye as he thought about his answer. I knew that he didn't really need to think. Grey was so calculated and aware, there was no way he would need to think about such a personal and direct question.

"-15."

Wow. 15. That was kind of a lot. I really didn't know how to respond to that. I didn't want to judge him, or even sound like I was judging him, but 15? It was a lot to take in.

"Do you have any more questions?" He asked.

He was looking at me with an incredibly serious expression, but there was also a kind of inquisitiveness to his stare. The heavy smell of leather and bleach was making my head spin. That, coupled with his new revelations made me feel quite light-headed.

"Why do you do things like this?" I croaked out. "Why don't you have girlfriends?"

"I told you. I don't do the girlfriend thing Anastasia. I'm not capable of those kinds of relationships and all the things that they entail. The kinds of things that they need. Love. Romance. Hearts and Flowers."

He made a face as if those things were completely unheard of. Repulsive. Abominations. "This is what I need," he continued. "This is what I do."

"You like to hurt women?"

My voice was small.

He stared at me impassively. "Trust me, Anastasia, there's more pleasure than there is pain."

I just stared right back at him. I didn't understand and I really didn't want to be in the room anymore. It was dimly lit, probably for some weird, hazy effect, and my head was spinning from the thought of Christian in here with those 15 women. 15 women. All the equipment, all of the scary looking devices. It felt like I was in a dream.

"I don't have any more questions. Can I please leave?"

My voice was low and awfully quiet. I was terrified to meet his gaze and when I did, he looked slightly dejected, but he quickly covered it up with a curt nod. His eyes were once again hard and unfeeling. He opened the door for me and I left quietly.

oo

Being back in the quiet, floral smelling atmosphere of my room made it easier to think things through. However, my brain was conflicted once again; the right and left side both warring with the other. Part of me was annoyed that I had been so dismissive. I should have been more accepting; I should have said, "that's great,Christian", or something along those lines. I should be content with the fact that he doesn't have real relationships with other women, that he doesn't love and his idea of pleasure is chaining women up and whipping them. I should be.

The other part of me was miserable, to say the least. Of course, I knew about the playroom. I had known it existed and I had an idea of what it was for, but I never imagined any of the things that he told me today. I thought it was just a part of his kinky sex life. It's strange, but if that's what he enjoyed, so be it.

Never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to say that he wasn't in favor of relationships. That his relationships were not romantic at all, but instead only existed in the confines of those four red walls. On the weekends. I really didn't expect BDSM to be the only thing he considered to be his love life, or lack thereof. He had told me before he did not believe in love, but I did not think he meant it so literally.

I thought the BDSM was just an aspect of things. An indulgence maybe. I had, of course, been exceedingly wrong and the new knowledge depressed me. I wished I never ever opened the room.

Dinner was very quiet... well, I was very quiet. Things were awkward now and I didn't know what to say. I was pretty sure we had just crossed the line of boss-employee professionalism and I was also pretty sure that things would not go back to the way they had been.

"You're too quiet Anastasia. Is something wrong?" Mr Grey asked.

I shook my head slowly through a mouthful of food but apparently it was unconvincing. He put his fork down and pushed his plate away before leaning across the table and taking my hands in his own. I was startled and completely confused, but my thoughts could not process anything other than the fact that his hands were so warm and my own felt so utterly feminine and delicate in his.

"I know that this is overwhelming for you, but try to be open-minded about all of this," he said as his lips were mere inches from my own. "Please?"

I nodded, hypnotised. As long as he kept touching me, I would agree to anything.

"I heard you talking on the phone yesterday. You sounded upset," he commented. It wasn't a question, just a statement. An acknowledgment.

"I was talking to my dad. I haven't seen him in a very long time, and I suppose I just miss him is all." I pictured Ray in my mind and I didn't realise how long it was since I had actually visited him.

"You don't speak much about your family."

"Neither do you."

He smirked at me and leaned back a little, taking those beautiful hands with him. I felt empty at the loss of contact.

"Why haven't you seen your father in so long?" He asked.

That was an easy question. This I could answer.

"He moved to the British Virgin Islands when I started college, so it's hard for me to fly out there. He remarried and now I have a new baby sister. He keeps badgering me to meet her." I laughed as I looked back down and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Do you want to meet her?"

I looked back up at him. "Of course." I almost rolled my eyes before I remembered that it was a rule not to do so.

"And the stepmother? I know you mentioned before that she was young. My age I think. Do you get along with her?"

"My dad forced her to make me a bridesmaid at the wedding. We have our differences."

"Differences?"

"Mainly the fact that she's so young. It just feels bizarre is all. I don't know." I shrugged knowing that my dismissal towards Marilyn was unjustified, but I didn't want to admit that right now.

His eyes looked sympathetic, but I couldn't be sure because he didn't say anything. We were silent for a few seconds before Christian spoke again.

"You can go you know. If you'd like. You can go and see your father."

I didn't ask him if he was serious because when I looked at him, I knew that he was. I dismissed the generous offer though.

"No, I can't go. You've already given me more than enough of your generosity. I won't take advantage of that." That was the complete truth.

"I think that you should go and see your father."

I was stumped by his insistence. I leaned forward a little on the table and cupped my face with the palms of my hands.

"Why?" I asked

He copied my movements. He also leaned forward and put his face in the palm of his hands, elbows rested on the table. I had to admit, it was extremely cute and I told him so. He laughed.

"I don't think that anybody I have encountered has ever used the word cuteto describe me."

"Well, maybe they never saw you do cute things," I countered with a smile.

"You're right about that." He said darkly.

We were serious again, still in the cute position, and then he spoke.

"I want you to go because I think you're going to need some distance from me as you consider the proposal I'm about to offer you."

My hands dropped slowly onto the table. "What proposal?"

He also dropped his hands onto the table. "Do you remember what I said about being open-minded?"

"What proposal, Christian?"

"I think we've past the professional code by now, wouldn't you agree, Anastasia?" He was acting like he hadn't heard me, so I just stayed silent until he spoke again.

"I have a proposal for you Anastasia, and before you run off screaming I need you to promise to hear me out first. Okay?" He peered deeply at me from his side of the table. "I think that you are beautiful and I want to offer you this. Promise me you'll consider it."

A beat passed as I weighed the outcome. I exhaled heavily. "I'll consider it... I promise. Just tell me what you're talking about." I was exasperated. I had never been one for extraordinary patience.

"And I promise, I swear wholeheartedly that if you refuse, nothing will change. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I won't hold anything against you-"

"Christian!"

He held my hands again and I couldn't help but entwine my fingers with his. It felt so good. I never knew that hand-holding could feel so good.

"I want you to be my live-in girlfriend. Of sorts."

I actually had to blink multiple times, like in a movie because surely he was joking. "You're kidding right?"

"I told you I'm not in the habit of making jokes."

I just stared at him, wide eyes like a deer, mouth slightly open.

"But you just told me that you don't do the whole girlfriend thing."

"I don't, but I figured the term submissive might put you off."

There it was. The condition. "So what you're really saying is that you want me to be your submissive?"

He had the decency to look slightly sheepish as he nodded. I wanted so much to pull my hands away from him, but it felt too nice. I had never been more shocked in my entire life. Surely this was all in my imagination.

"Why?" Unfortunately this was the only thing that came out of my mouth. It was all I could muster up. A life time of insecurity was to blame.

He shrugged.

"Why not? You're beautiful and smart and I find it very hard to find time to," he thought, "indulge with the job that I do. You live here with me. It would be very convenient."

I became so anxious when he said that I was beautiful, as I always did. He had called me it many times, but I never really considered myself beautiful before. Average Ana. That was more of a better description I'd say.

"You want me to have sex with you?" Gah. I couldn't even say the word without my throat feeling like sandpaper.

"I would like that very much," he stated with his signature Christian Grey smirk.

My whole body blushed. If I looked in a mirror right now, I would be scarlet.

All I could think of was why me. What was so special about Average Ana? A small part of myself was still trying to ignore the answer that was as obvious as it was daylight.

Even still, however, something loomed over me like a darkened rain cloud. He's just told you. You're just a convenience to him. That's all, Ana.

And that was right; I was just a convenience. It was only because I was here. No other reason. The truth hurt me and part of me was angry that he would ask such a thing in such a way, but at the same time I was also incredibly thrilled. The biggest feeling that coursed through me was fear, and not fear in the typical sense. It was the fear that no matter what, despite knowing all I knew, in the end, I knew that I was going to say yes.

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