I apologize for the delayed post. Moving was exhausting. Thanks for your patience. Enjoy!

A/N: I do not own any of these characters.

ANA

"Are you jealous of her?" Christian asked heedfully as he nuzzled my hair. We're both naked in the boathouse, lying on the floor, spooning between the sheets with my back to his front; the throw pillows kept our head propped up. His body was warm counteracting the chill that seeped inside the boathouse.

"No," I replied weakly after a moment of deliberation. My eyes were fixated on the flickering candles, alongside the wall, that had partially melted. They were still beautiful and effective, calming my nerves. "Just slightly intimidated," I added.

"Intimidated?" he emphasized surprisingly.

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked propping his head up with his elbow and began caressing my arm, soothing me.

"I don't know," I shrugged, "Maybe cuz she looked so perfect." Perfect enough for him, I thought.

"Beauty's only skin deep, Ana," he phrased as his lips grazed my shoulder.

I peered at him from the corner of my eyes, over my shoulder, "Easy for you to say, you are the epitome of the perfect male specimen. Your sexy copper hair, your alluring grey eyes, your flawless physique. What any girl would give to be with you. You're like the Greek god, Adonis, of the twenty-first century.

He chuckled skeptically. "You'd compare me to Adonis? Now you're giving me too much credit. I could never compete with him."

"Who knows, you might've surpassed him in the pleasure department. Although, I doubt he has all the whips and chains locked up in his chamber waiting for Aphrodite," I joked.

"I'm not surprise if he does," he added. "Aphrodite might've enjoyed it."

I chuckled and then sighed as I focused my attention back on the candles. The room became quiet as I pondered about our situation.

"I'll make sure she doesn't get hired," he roused in breaking the silence.

"No. Please don't interfere, Christian," I requested serenely. "I have nothing against her." And I had nothing against any of the women he slept with. They were just fulfilling what they were signed up to do which was to please him, the man who acquired an appetite for all beautiful things.

"I want to make sure you're at ease," he voiced his concerns.

"I'll be happier without a guilty conscience," I responded honestly.

"Are you positive?" he asked. It was a tough question because I was uncertain. The thought of me bumping into someone who was once intimate with him was disturbing, but I couldn't let that cloud my judgment. I'd have to face it eventually.

"Yes," I replied impassively, "She has every right to be there."

He took my chin in his hand and turned my face to meet his firm gaze. "Then promise me you will never mention her name again or any other women I've associated with in the past," he proposed sternly. There was no compromising in his voice; he was dead serious. Somehow I wasn't ready to obliterate the subject, but digging it back up wouldn't alter the situation at all. Clearly, he had a point.

"I promise," I replied yielding to his manipulative grey eyes.

"Good girl," he murmured contentedly, gliding his thumb over my cheek. I forced a smile and he leaned in thrusting his tongue inside my mouth. My concerns faded as our tongues intertwined. He picked up the pace, fiercely kissing me and it suddenly became too much to handle.

"What time is it?" I asked breathlessly after breaking our contact.

"I don't know and I don't care. I just want to remain sandwiched between these sheets with you," he uttered as he spooned and snuggled me back to position.

I chuckled and then gasped with my eyes widened when his erection poked my backside, "Christian."

"I'm sorry. I can't seem to contain myself around you," he apologized sheepishly.

"Apparently."

"How about another round?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Por favor."

"I said, no."

"S'il vous plait. Je bande pour toi," he stated seductively in French with a devilish smile plastered on his face. I frowned at his attempt.

"That sounded romantic, but something tells me it's very dirty and my answer is still no.

He chuckled. "I guess I'll have to settle for the consolation prize," he said then grabbed hold of the sheets and yanked it over us. I squealed below him as we frolicked underneath the soft luxurious fabric.

We entered the house, from the flagstone patio, through the French door into the kitchen. Grace and Carrick were laughing up a storm, on the barstool, enjoying their glass of red wine.

"Hey. Where did you two come from?" Grace asked, stunned to see us in her mellowed out phase.

"I took her to the boathouse…had to show her the artwork," he answered calmly as he approached the cupboard and pulled out a pair of wine glasses.

"Oh, the one you just bought from the local gallery?"

"Yes." He filled the glasses with the wine that sat before Grace.

"Did you like it?" Grace asked me.

"Yes. It was colorful," I lied hoping she wouldn't press me for anymore details. He could've informed me ahead of time.

"Why are you guys still up?" Christian asked diverting the topic as he handed me a glass. I was eager for a sip; the sex and tension in the boathouse left me parched.

"Um…I'm sorry. I didn't know we had a curfew," she joked with an attitude.

"Perfect timing," Carrick jumped in. "I need your opinion, son. Your mother and I were debating on an abstract piece we just hung up."

"Sure," Christian replied and smiled at me before he followed Carrick out the room.

"She said it looked like a mother breastfeeding three babies at once…" Carrick's voice trailed.

I turned my attention to Grace and sat down alongside her on the barstool.

"How are you doing sweetie?" she asked thoughtfully.

"I'm good."

"You look healthy. Christian's been feeding you hasn't he?"

"Yes. He's been very helpful."

"He's constantly worried about you?" she muttered. Off course he was. But just mentioning his name brought me back to the boathouse and I needed to steer my mind elsewhere.

"What about you?"

"Me? Oh, y'know, same old same old. When you get to my age everything becomes repetitive. Good thing Carrick is such a comedian. I don't know what I'd do without a good laugh every day," she commended. Sense of humor was one of the key to their successful relationship. Thirty plus years and they're still going strong. I smiled with admiration.

We continued chatting about her work and other interesting tidbits pertaining to the family: Ethan and Mia's rocky relationship, Carrick's upcoming charity dinner, and Elliot's exertion over Kate's irrational mood swings. Fifteen minutes later we ended up chatting about Christian again.

"I was so frustrated with him I bought the most expensive mattress in the showroom," I vented. "Then he retorted saying I didn't spend enough of his money so I told him to shove it up his ass."

She broke out laughing. "You did?"

"He provoked me," I said and then laughed along. We sighed after a moment of merriment.

"You have to swing by more often, Ana. It's nice to see you every now and then. That way you could have Christian tag along. You know how seldom he shows up here."

"If you insist."

"Oh, I really insist. In fact, as a doctor, I recommend it. A dose of the Grey family three times a week to help prevent future…" she trailed waving her hand, "Situational depression."

I tried to suppress my giggle but failed at it. Grace had always been kind and caring towards me. Never once have I felt a negative vibe around her. She was the most hospitable and selfless person I'd ever met and I was thankful that Christian introduced us.

Instinctively, I swung my arms around her and squeezed tight; she rubbed my back tenderly. It was soothing and for a moment there it felt like I was in my mother's loving arms. Although three-thousand miles away, I could feel her here; her smell, her touch, her warm and unconditional love for me. Immersed in her embrace, I hesitated to pull myself away, but eventually I did. She cupped my cheek once I faced her.

"You are like a daughter to us, Ana. We're grateful to have you in our life. Christian would've never been this close to us if it wasn't for you. No one understood him like you do. Not even Dr. Flynn. He'll never find anyone who would put up with him like you do. And I know for a fact that he cherishes everything he has with you, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here in front of me right now," she expressed. Her words touched me in so many ways and the thought of Christian's life before he met me was heartbreaking. I held back my tears to prevent any further attention.

Carrick and Christian stumbled in, murmuring. Grace darted her head at them and I hurried to compose myself.

"So what's the verdict?" she asked excitingly.

"He agrees with you," Carrick answered rolling his eyes and shaking his head in defeat.

"Of course he does," she gloated.

"We have to go, Ana?" Christian rushed.

"Already? It's only ten o'clock," Grace surged in. "Why don't you two join us for a movie."

"Mom. It's getting late and Ana has to-"

"I'd love to," I blurted involuntarily.

"Oh, this is great," she clasped her hands gleefully.

"Ana," Christian opposed glowering at me.

"Christian, I would love to indulge a movie with your parents," I voiced dismissing the consequences. He stared intently; I shifted my eyes from his before he could manipulate me again. "What are we watching?" I asked Grace.

"It's a classic," Carrick chimed in.

"Great. Another Sleepless in Seattle," Christian grumbled wryly and then darted a sip of wine.

"The Graduate," Grace corrected. Christian spurted the wine back into the glass and wiped his lips.

"What's the matter, Mrs. Robinson got you choked up?" I teased with a smirk. He narrowed his venomous eyes at me.

Carrick slung his arm over Christian's shoulders, "C'mon Benjamin, Mrs. Robinson is waiting for you in room 568," he added as he ushered him out the room.

I giggled.

Grace frowned confusingly. "What was that about?"

"I have no idea," I shrugged dishonestly. I promised Christian I would never disclose his past with Elena to anyone, including his mother. She'd have to figure that out herself.

"Benjamin." Mrs. Robinson's voice emitted out from the humongous LED.

"Yes?" answered Benjamin.

"Isn't there something you want to tell me?"

"Tell you?"

"Yes."

"Well, I want you to know how much I appreciate this. Really."

"The number."

"What?"

"The room number, Benjamin. I think you ought to tell me that."

"Oh, you're absolutely right. It's 568."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Well... I'll see you later, Mrs. Robinson."

We all laughed on cue, except for Christian, who was sulking beside me with his arm stretched over the back of the couch. He discreetly brushed his fingers down the side of my neck and I jerked as a jolt of electricity ran through me. I could see him smirking from the corner of my eye. My reaction was much more entertaining than the film, I supposed.

"Another first for me, Anastasia," he informed on the ride up the elevator. It was after midnight; there was no one else except us inside the cell.

"I am pleased to know," I responded standing a foot away.

"Since you enjoyed it so much I propose we do it again… Without my parents," he whispered huskily against my ear sending shivers down my spine, again.

"I look forward to it," I replied, unruffled. He snaked his hand up the back of my dress and clamped my ass; I gasped, almost tipping forward.

"I'll show you my own version of The Graduate." He moved his hand to the center of my behind and snaked two fingers below my clit. Slowly, he grazed them over my lace thong stimulating me there. My breath hitched and I swallowed frantically. "Unlike Benjamin, I am not a fucking wuss," he clarified.

"I didn't say you were," I whimpered rousingly trying to keep my balance as his fingers continued assaulting me. Any longer and I would eventually explode within this cell.

"Just wanted to clear that up," he concluded and then retracted his finger once the elevator door glided open. I exhaled in relief and adjusted myself mentally and physically. "After you," he said with a smirk, waving his hand out. I glared at him and strode off. Such a fucking tease.

He escorted me to my apartment. I debated as I slowly unlocked the door. Should I or shouldn't I?

"Good night, Ana." He snapped me out and I twirled to face him.

"Would you like to come in?" I spurted out courageously. Jeez, I must be extremely horny. Subtlety, Ana. "Brie is staying at her boyfriend's tonight." I said subtlety, Ana. "I've got coffee…and tea. Unless you prefer wine. Of course you'd prefer wine," I flustered shaking my head and then furrowed my brows when I realized I didn't have his favorite wine in stock. "I don't have any Sancerre."

"It's not necessary. I don't need anything to drink."

"Would you still like to come in?" I asked expectantly.

He mulled it over and grinned. My lips curled up in anticipation once he leaned forward.

"No," he uttered curtly.

My face paled disconcertingly. Did he just rejected me?

"You defied me earlier and in turn will cost you your sleep," he reminded.

"Christian, I am an adult-"

"Don't argue with me," he interrupted. "You must learn to obey me. It's for your own good," he admonished.

"Well, I know what's good for me at the moment," I lured biting my lip.

"Do you?" he muttered skeptically eying my lips. They were blazing intensely. It's working, I hoped.

"Yup, and it'll only use up ten minutes of your time," I said walking my fingers over his pecs. He snatched it to a halt.

"I highly doubt it. It's getting late. You need to sleep." He kissed the back of my hand. "Good night," he said tersely.

"Night," I pouted.

He turned his heels and approached the elevator pressing the call button. I watched as he disappeared inside the cell. He couldn't even look back because he was afraid it would alter his decision. Always complicated as ever.

"Hmp," I exclaimed disappointingly then shuffled inside and leaned against the door after slamming it shut. The thought of him rejecting me was baffling. I really wanted it, especially after the little foreplay he initiated in the elevator. I sighed in despair. Oh well… I've got fingers. All I needed was a little imagination. Hmm… Christian in nothing but a white coat approaching me with a stethoscope. I grinned immersing myself into my fantasy. My cell phone rang dragging me back to reality; I fished it out of my bag and answered to see Christian's text message.

*Do NOT play with yourself. That's an order. Go to sleep.*

I scoffed amusingly. "Too late, Mr. Grey. I'm already hot and bothered," I mumbled to myself. What was he going to do? Punish me? I don't think so. Disregarding the message, I sashayed toward my room with a vivid image of Dr. Grey compressing his cold stethoscope against my chest, tending to my erratic heartbeat as he gazed at me with those vulturous hooded grey eyes. Mmm

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