fRICKITY fRACK. I gotta get my shit together, guys, and find a plot. Anyhow, here we are, chapter ten! From the reviews I've gotten so far, everyone's enjoying the story. If there are any questions, please feel free to PM me. I will do my best to get back to you as soon as possible.
Thank you, and have fun!
Ana's POV:
Kate was pissed - and when I say pissed, I mean insanely, screamingly, royally pissed - when I arrived back at the apartment.
I apologized for running out last, explained that I assumed my episode was a result from having told my tale to Christian the night before.
This is the only reason I can formulate. Before I told him, I had never told anyone before. I refused to speak of it to Ray, so he had to learn everything from the authorities, and I've only told Kate the bare minimum, very few tidbits, so she doesn't freak out when I have nightmares, an episode, a breakdown, or whatever. She knows I don't like touch and respects my boundaries.
She them very firmly requested every little detail I was willing to share, and I provided enough to soothe her journalist nature without giving a word of Christian's past. After that, I explained I was in desperate need of a shower and a change of a clothes, and she let me go about my tasks.
In the shower, the image of Christian as he told me his story is stuck in my head. His look of confusion and despair at his mother's lack of emotion toward him and anger for the acts done my his mother's pimp. The little burn scars on his chest and stomach that I know to him are humongous pits oozing with the pain he feels.
On another note, holy shit! That man works out! I couldn't help but noticed he defined, cut pectorals and abs, and his well-toned arms. I don't particularly like the body-builder type, but strong, powerful muscles are very, very good.
I finish in the shower and step out, drying myself and twisting my hair up in a towel. The mirror shows the scars on my back, stomach, and thighs. I frown at the reflection and wrap the towel around my body, feeling self-conscious.
After dressing in a casual gray skirt and purple long-sleeve t-shirt and securing my hair in a bun, I go to the kitchen and rummage through the nearly empty fridge. "Katherine Kavanagh!" I shout. She peeks her head around the corner a moment later. "What do you call this?" I open the door of the refrigerator. She grins sheepishly. "You know I can't cook!" she argues. I throw my hands in the air, exasperated. I go to my bedroom, put on a pair of flats, and grab my purse with wallet, keys, and phone. "I'm going to the grocery store!" I call as I leave the apartment.
I get in my car and drive to the nearest grocery shop to get necessities for the kitchen. Halfway there, I notice a black Audi a few cars behind me. Not Christian, I tell myself. Other people can drive a black Audi.
The store is quiet with few other people milling around. I grab a basket by the front entrance and make my way through the store, picking up a items as I move down the aisles.
A presence behind me makes my skin prickle, and I discreetly glimpse over my shoulder. The only person in view is a tall, muscled man in jeans and a t-shirt. For now, I ignore him and continue on, hoping he'll go away.
Alas, every once in a while I turn and he's somewhere near me. After trailing behind me for this entire time, the only thing in his cart is a box of Cheerios, a roll of paper towels, and a carton of milk.
Just to be sure, I walk quickly back the first aisle I went to, walk the length of it, and turn around just in time to see the guy enter the aisle. Damn.
I walk to the checkout counter and place my basket on the belt. The cashier rings the items and bags them, I pay, take the bags, and walk out of the store.
While placing my bags in the front passenger seat of my car, I see the Audi that followed me parked a few spaces over, and then man from inside the store gets in the driver's seat.
I get in my car and sit there, engine off, while I remove my phone from my purse and call Christian. "Hi, Ana." "Someone's following me." Something falls and crashes, then I hear Christian shout for Taylor. Then, more muffled, I hear, "Taylor, who's on Ana?" "Christian, what are you talking about?" "Nothing, Ana." he mumbles, feigning nonchalance. "Christian Grey, tell me what the hell is going on." He's quiet, then, "No one's following you. Your security detail is with you." "Security detail?!" I screech. I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and mutter, "I will talk to you later."
Hanging up, I get out of my car and approach the Audi. The widow immediately rolls down, and the guy from inside the store looks at me impassively. "You're my security detail." I state. "Yes, ma'am." he answers. "Your name?" "Sawyer, ma'am." I raise an eyebrow. "Now, Mr. Sawyer, if you're going to trail after me everywhere, I think I should at least know your full name." "Luke Sawyer, ma'am." "Luke, call me Ana." "Yes, ma-" I glare at him "-Ana." I smile. "Good. We're going home."
I get in my car and go home, the Audi behind me the whole way.
At the apartment, Luke insists on carrying the grocery sacks in for me. I give in, letting him help, and lead him inside.
Kate, lounging in the living rooms, bounds up when she sees I have company. "Kate, Luke Sawyer, security detail. Luke, Katherine Kavanagh, roommate." They shake hands, and Kate looks at me with big eyes. "Luke, have a seat in the living room." He nods and departs.
"Security detail?" she questions, assisting with putting away groceries.
"Assigned by Grey himself." I mutter. "We'll be having a talk about this."
Christian's POV:
My eyes flick back and forth between the computer screen and my blackberry. Ana said she'd "talk to me later," but she hasn't called.
She hasn't called. Why hasn't she called?
Just as I think this, my blackberry jumps to life. I snatch it up and answer without looking.
"Hey."
Was that too excited? Does she know I've been sitting here waiting for her call?
"Christian, dear," Elena purrs, her voice sickly sweet.
Frowning, I mutter, "Elena? What do you want?"
"I'm in the understanding that you're in need of a new sub. I've been perusing the clubs and speaking to my contacts, and there's this wonderful girl-"
"No, Elena. I don't need a new sub."
"There hasn't been one since-"
"Elena, listen to me - I don't need a new sub."
"Oh... Have you found one on your own, then?" Her voice, always nasally and slightly irritating, takes on a strange tone.
"I have a girl that I have been seeing."
"What's her name? I would be pleased to get a background check and thoughts from her past Doms-"
"NO, ELENA!" I shout, slamming my fist down on my desk. She goes silent.
"I do not need your involvement with this. I can handle my own relationships." I say through gritted teeth. "She isn't a submissive."
"Christian, I highly advise against engaging in relations with those unlike us." she says, her tone hushed as if she were sharing a secret. "You can't expect this to end well."
I don't want it to end at all.
"She's different, Elena. I don't want that with her."
"This is not like you, Christian. You're concerning me."
"Stay out of it, Elena." With that, I hang up.
I slump in my desk chair, running my hand over my face and through my hair.
The buzzing of my blackberry startles me, and I look at the name before answering. "Hi, Ana."
"Grey." she responds curtly. "I'll be expecting you at my apartment at five thirty this evening." "I'll be there." "Fine. Be prepared to talk." Click.
I stare at the device in my hand. Shit - I'm in trouble.
After showering and dressing in dark wash jeans and a dark green crew-neck sweater, I put on solid black kicks, a black sport jacket, and try not obsess over how I look. Goddammit, I am not a fucking teenager. Quit looking in the mirror.
Exiting my bedroom, I find Taylor waiting in the entry. "Taylor?" "Sir." "Fetch Mrs. Jones," I request. "Please," I add as an afterthought.
Nodding, he leaves and is back in only a moment with Mrs. Jones. "Mr. Grey." "Gail, I need an honest opinion." She looks startled, but nods. "Do I look okay?" I hold out my arms, displaying myself. FUCKING HELL, GREY, STOP THIS SHIT. YOU LOOK FINE. YOU DON'T NEED ANYBODY'S GODDAMN OPINION. Ignoring the screaming voice in my head, I await Mrs. Jones's response, which is a mildly confused, "You look excellent, sir. Very handsome." I mumble a thanks and quickly go to the elevator. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Taylor is right behind me entering the elevator. The doors slide shut, and we're whisked down below ground. Silence surrounds me as I enter my vehicle and Taylor shuts the door, then gets in.
I stare out the window, musing over the sudden, dramatic changes in me. I've taken a girl out on dates. I've slept with a girl, - actual sleeping was involved - once in my bed, and on every occasion, I have not had a nightmare. I've played the piano for a girl - not just played the piano while a girl was in the room, but actually played for her. I've begged for the chance to "get to know" someone - I don't "get to know" anybody. I don't care about "getting to know" anyone - except her. I actually care about how I look when I'm going to see her. I've told her more than I've told anybody about my past.
And, the strangest, most frightening, most confusing thing of all, I've let her touch my chest.
It's insane.
And weird.
And scary.
And exhilarating.
Fuck. What has she done to me?
The time is five thirty on the dot.
Ana's apartment door looks oddly daunting. Don't be a pussy. We're just going to talk. It's fine. What could go wrong? Well, I could say something stupid and make her hate me, make her be afraid of me, or - the most most intimidating outcome - make her like me. God, stop this inner-monologue shit and get on with it, Grey! This is ridiculous. I am a billionaire CEO, I am a Dom, and I am not scared of a little woman. Even though she is a very strong, self-powered, driven woman, who will tear me a new asshole if she feels I've deserving of it, which if she thinks so, I probably am. FUCKING FUCKERS, GREY, GET ON WITH IT! KNOCK, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!
Rapidly and with more force than probably necessary, I knock on the door.
Soft footsteps are heard, then a lock moves, and the door opens. "Grey." Katherine greets with boredom. "Miss Kavanagh." She ushers me in, shutting the door behind me. "Ana," she calls with a sing-song voice into the apartment. "Your maaaaaaan is heeeeeeeeere!"
"Weirdo." Ana's gently teasing voice replies as she appears from a hallway.
I admire her, casually dressed in a gray skirt and purple shirt with long sleeves. Her feet are bare, and her hair has been parted on the side, drawn into a braid draped over her shoulder.
Kate grins at her roommate before skipping off to unknown locations.
"Hello, Christian. Make yourself comfortable." she says politely, leading me into the living room. Her apartment is not big, but cozy and warm, inviting and homey.
"Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, soda?" she offers. "No, thank you." I murmur, watching as she goes into the kitchen.
When she comes back in the room, she has a teacup in one hand. She sets her cup on the coffee table as she sits.
"How has your day been?" she asks. "Relatively uneventful. Yours?" Raising an eyebrow, she says, "Similar."
"You seem eager to get on with our discussion." she comments. I only nod. "Shall we begin?
"First, the security detail. This is unacceptable." "This is non-negotiable." I retort. Her expression hardens. "Please explain to me why I need security." "I need to know you're safe." "Am I in danger?" "If we continue to see each other, you may very well be." "And you didn't feel the need to discuss this with me?"
Those dark pools of velvety chocolate narrow as a small scowl forms between her brows.
"I'm not relenting on this, Anastasia." I say firmly. "Did you think, did you even consider, that I might want to be aware of this substantial change in my life?" Shit, what do I say? Honesty is probably the best route here. "No. I only thought about keeping you safe."
I inch my hand closer to her, desperate to touch her, but she reaches out and picks up her teacup, holding it with both hands.
After sipping her beverage contemplatively for a moment, she looks at me and says, "When your decisions will have an impact - any sort of impact, no matter how insignificant or immense - on me, you must talk to me about it first."
Her expression is softer, but stern.
"Okay," I say slowly, "I will try. However, I am not budging on this. You need to be safe."
She purses her lips, takes a drink of whatever liquid is in her cup, and nods once. "Fine, but I have conditions. He can't follow me into the bathroom. I don't care what your dress code is, but he will not be wearing a suit unless absolutely necessary. He is allowed to be casual with me, and by casual, I mean we interact like friends. He may be your employee, but he is not mine. If you want me to go along with this, I have to be comfortable with him."
At least she's agreeing. She's not completely against it.
"Alright. Thank you for cooperating with me."
"Now, your stalker tendencies. Also unacceptable. If you need information about me, you ask me. Understood?" "Ana, I'm used to knowing everything when I want to know it." "That's fine. I don't care about other things, but when it's information about me or my life you can ask me."
She's calm, but immovable. "This is non-negotiable, Christian."
I sigh, rake my hand through my hair, and nod. "Fine. I'll try." "Thank you."
Then Ana leans in, captures my cheek in her petite hand, and touches her exquisite lips to mine. The suddenness of the movement delays my reaction by a short moment. My hand cradles her head, my eyes close, and my lips mold to hers. She slides her hand up, slipping her delicate fingers into my hair.
I swipe the tip of my tongue over her plump bottom lip, and she grants me access.
Her tongue lightly strokes mine as I curl my arm around her waist. I pull her across my lap, her chest to mine with her astride me.
She gasps, snatching away from me abruptly, leaving me feeling bereft. I open my eyes to meet her gaze, but her eyes are shut tightly, as if in pain.
"Ana...?"
She covers my mouth her hand, breathing deeply to herself and mouthing words so quickly I can't make them out. Lids slowly rising, she looks at me under her lashes timidly.
"I'm sorry. I'm still not used to being touched." she murmurs.
It's then I realize that I touched her no-go zone without any warning. My eyes widen at this. Damn it, Grey! Be careful!
"No, I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it." I mumble, looking down. "It's okay." she says softly, smiling reassuringly.
Her smile is radiant. Brilliant. Perfect.
I'm so fucking sappy.
Even if admitting this makes me the biggest sucker in the world, I vow to myself here and now that I will do everything I can to make her smile, even if it isn't directed at me.
Her gentle lips then brush along my jaw while her right hand drifts down, her fingertips the only thing touching my skin. A zap of electricity surges through my body at every point of contact.
She presses her cheek to mine as I feel her hand rest lightly on my shoulder. I stiffen when she very carefully touches my chest, and she whispers so softly in my ear, "I'm here, my darling. You're safe. No one can hurt you."
As if a switch had been flipped, I melt into the sofa. The feeling of her touching my chest does not produce fear but instead brings comfort and warmth. I close my eyes when Ana brings her lips back to mine, and we instantly reconnect.
She tastes of peach tea and something else that is entirely unique and perfectly Ana. Oh God, she's wonderful. I never want this moment to end.
Mini-me is up and ready to go, but I'm desperately trying to make him stand down so as not to disturb Ana. While I'm putting forth my efforts, Ana grinds her hips against mine, and I can't help the groan that escapes.
Sweet Jesus, if she does that again, I may not be able to control myself.
One of her hands has the material of my sweater in her fist, and the other is tugging on my hair, encouraging the Grey downstairs.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck YES
"Ana, I-"
The voice from out of the blue brings my erratic thoughts and the growing tent in my pants to a screeching halt.
Ana pulls away, her eyes and mine locking for a moment full of a tense, charged emotion that I cannot comprehend.
She slides off of me, standing and facing Katherine, who is staring at us in utter shock.
"Yes, Kate?" Ana says calmly, looking at her roommate evenly. "I-I... uh... I'm going out... call me, you know, if you... need me... um, bye." Kate stutters, then slowly turns and walks to the door, looking over her shoulder at Ana and me as she goes.
There's a quiet moment, a car drives off, then Ana starts laughing madly. She turns to me, an oddly delighted grin gracing her features.
"Mind cluing me in on the joke?" I ask, standing from the couch. "Kate's never stuttered before. It's quite the spectacle." she murmurs, giggling.
Her hand finds mine, her fingers pushing between mine. She looks down at our interlocked hands almost timidly. Timidity is certainly not a characteristic I would expect from the facile Miss Steele. Her eyes dart up for a nanosecond, locking with mine, her teeth clamped on her lower lip nervously.
In a flash, all signs of meekness vanish, and Ana is standing tall, hand firmly clasping mine, eyes meeting mine. What...?
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" she asks brightly. "Dinner would be lovely." I murmur, bemused.
The small, soft hand leaves my grasp, replaced by a lonely cold. I follow her into the kitchen, standing by the island while she searches the contents of the refrigerator. "And what would Mr. Grey fancy to feast upon tonight, hm?" Ana ponders. "Whatever Miss Steele decides." I reply, grinning in a somewhat maniacal fashion. "Well, we have the makings for sandwiches, soup... perhaps a pasta or chicken dish... hm..." She closes the fridge and wanders to the cabinets.
"Mac n cheese?" I mumble, hopeful. She looks at me over her shoulder. "You like macaroni and cheese?" she asks, her voice holding some tender, unnamed emotion. I nod, smiling and saying, "It's my favorite food." "Then mac and cheese it shall be."
As she begins gathering the necessary ingredients and supplies, I start to fidget. Ana looks at me, frowning slightly. "Make yourself comfortable." It's not a request she speaks; it's an order. She stops what she's doing and comes to me, shoving her little hands under the jacket on my shoulders. Not so gently, she removes it from me, draping it over an empty space of countertop, and I'm left in a white t-shirt covered by my sweater. "Take off your shoes." I do as told, placing them out of the way.
"Good." she declares, looking over me. "You're so stuffy sometimes." she adds in a muttered voice. I raise a brow. No one's ever called me stuffy before.
"Take this," she says, handing me a pot, "and fill it three quarters full of hot water." While she returns to mixing seasonings and other ingredients in a glass bowl, I take the pot to the sink and follow her commands. As soon as the flow of water from the sink cuts off, Ana gives me another task. "Put the pot on the stove at high heat." This is easy. I carry out her order, listening as she hums to herself.
Glittering blue eyes peek over her shoulder at me, and she smiles. "Does something amuse you, Miss Steele?" I murmur, moving to stand behind her. "You just look very... domestic. It's strange, but I like it." she says, shrugging.
My arms snake around her waist, holding her back against my chest. "I like you." I whisper, kissing the top of her head. Ana dips the tip of her finger into the thick, yellowish mixture in the bowl, then turns and dabs it on my nose while murmuring, "You're cheesy." MY responding laugh is unlike that of any laugh I have uttered before, and her gigantic smile is brighter and more beautiful than anything else in the universe.
After devouring Ana's delicious mac n cheese, she and I sit on the floor in the living room. My back is against the sofa, and she is sitting between my outstretched legs, her back to me.
While she scrolls through movies on Netflix, I take her braid and undo it. I play with her long, silky hair - running my fingers through it, twisting and braiding it. "Your hair smells like strawberries." I mumble. "My shampoo." she answers absentmindedly.
She selects a movie and leans back against me, taking my right hand and weaving our fingers together.
"Ana?" I whisper as the movie's opening scene begins. "Yeah?" she whispers back. "Is this what normal couples do?" I feel like a complete fool for needing answers to questions like these. "I dunno." she mumbles, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "I don't care. It makes me happy, whether 'normal couples'," she mimes quotes with her fingers in the air, "do it or not." She turns, looking at me over her shoulder. "Are you happy?" she asks softly. I can't help leaning forward and capturing her lips with mine for a moment. "I am very happy, Ana." I whisper. "Good." she murmurs.
With Ana snuggled against me, we watch the movie in peace. I barely manage to pay attention as I lightly trail my fingers up and down her arms and sides, while leaving a path of little kisses on the column of her throat. She squirms before swatting my knee playfully, then taking my hands in hers and holding them in her lap.
A slow drizzle of rain begins halfway through the movie, and by the time it's over, the drizzle has become a downpour.
Ana walks with me to the door, handing me my jacket after I put on my shoes. "Thank you for dinner and your company. It was very pleasant." I say as I slip into the jacket. "You're welcome." she replies.
To my immense surprise, she grabs my jacket and pulls me down to her, kissing me fiercely. One of her hands slips around to tangle in the hair at nape of my neck. I curl my left hand around her side and cup her cheek in my right. All at once and all too soon, she lets go and steps back, smirking at me.
She reaches for the front door, opening it. I grin, kissing the top of her head quickly and murmuring, "I'll call." As I step out, she says, "Goodnight, Christian." "Goodnight, Ana." I say over my shoulder. Her sweet smile and sparkling eyes are implanted in my mind eternally.