a/n: Thank you for the reviews for last chapter! :)

It didn't take him long to find her once he'd arrived—just as Elliot had unintentionally relayed, she was on the dance floor with some punk. But he was at least keeping his hands to himself—lucky bastard. Christian was in the mood to fight—or to fuck. And he had a feeling Anastasia wasn't going to give into him so easily; it wouldn't stop him from trying.

He checked his coat and then found a booth near the back where he'd have a clear view of her. Once settled, his eyes swept along the dance floor and he nearly rolled his eyes at the sight of his brother and Kate. Apparently they weren't listening to the music, or they wouldn't have had their bodies wrapped around one another barely swaying to the music.

He was glad the club wasn't just a quick ride from his place. It had given him time to come to his senses. Of course Anastasia had come out tonight. And after what he'd done to her pride last night, he could hardly blame her. He was the only man she'd been with, and from her perception, he'd rejected her last night.

He would have to assure her that wasn't the case—that he wanted her very much. But he wanted to be able to take his time with her.

Anastasia lifted her hair off the back of her neck in an effort to cool herself, and then headed for her booth as the man she'd been dancing with made his way to the bar to get them fresh drinks. As she took her seat, she felt a shiver run down her spine. She'd had the oddest feeling that someone had been staring at her throughout the entire last song. But that was ridiculous.

This was Christian's doing, she thought with a grimace. He'd put her in a complete state of paranoia last night when he'd told her she hadn't earned another fuck yet. His words had been a reminder of just how inexperienced she was…how ill-suited they were for one another. That detail alone should be enough to suppress her desire for him, but it wasn't. The truth was she wanted him more now. That probably had to do with the fact that she'd sat through three courses of foreplay and had never been provided the main dish.

With a heavy sigh, Ana shook herself from her reverie and forced herself to remain focused on the present. Christian Grey wasn't here. This guy—dammit, she'd forgotten his name!—was. Maybe if she spent some time getting to know him, she'd become attracted to him.

And she almost had herself convinced of that—until Christian slid into the booth beside her. "Wha—"

"Ana-stasia," he said in greeting.

Ana felt her breath catch as she tried to remain casual while she looked for…what's his name.

"He's not coming back," Christian informed her as he placed her drink in front of her.

She frowned. "Who's not coming back?" she asked, playing dumb.

"The guy you were just dancing with. You know…the one who didn't have the nerve to touch you?" he taunted.

Ana narrowed her gaze. "What did you do, Grey?" she asked, furious with herself for being so thrilled to see him.

"I asked him if he liked his throat," he said simply.

"And?" she asked shrilly.

"He said yes. Well—I think he did." He shrugged. "It's hard to tell what he was saying with my hand wrapped around his neck."

"Grey!"

"It was a gentle squeeze," he assured her.

She gave him a dirty look before reaching for her drink. It was almost to her mouth before she realized it wasn't what she'd wanted. "I asked for a rum and coke," she said heatedly.

"I don't like the taste of rum," he informed her.

"I—" Her mouth snapped shut and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. How like him to just assume he would kiss her again! "Don't worry. I wouldn't dream of subjecting you to me again," she said.

"You're mad," he said.

"Of course I'm mad! You throw me into the back of some car and send me home, and then the very next night, you have the nerve to show up here and threaten my dance partner? For God's sake, you couldn't get rid of me fast enough last night!"

"Because if I hadn't thrown you in the back of that car, I was going to fuck you in that alley! Is that what you wanted, Anastasia?" he hissed, his eyes flashing with anger. She couldn't tell if he was furious with her or with himself.

"Yes," she said unwaveringly.

Her response surprised him. It shouldn't have—she'd let him take her virginity in the back of this bar, for God's sake—but it did.

"Luckily I'm over that," she informed him. "You see…I had a lot of time to think last night, Christian…after you sent me home." She lifted her chin in a show of defiance, her fiery gaze meeting his. His felt his cock twitch; they were the exact shade of blue they'd been the first time he'd taken her. "And I have absolutely no interest in earning my way back into your bed. Not when there are so many beds in this city that I could just fall into." She shoved him, and he was so surprised by her words that he let her push him out of the booth until he was standing. He watched as she stood in front of him, reached for her jacket, and turned to go.

But he couldn't let her. He grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around until she came crashing against his chest. His arms tightened on her waist, and his voice was low when he spoke. "You want me, Anastasia. You might not want to want me, but you want me," he goaded her. "You want me to taste you…you want me to fuck you…and you want my hand on your ass again. You want all of it. And you want more. I told you I wanted you on top of me, and you haven't stopped thinking about it since, have you, Anastasia?"

Ana's head was reeling. He was too good with his words; he knew her too well.

But how?

They'd spent a single night together and then an entire month apart. Was she that predictable? Or was it because she was exactly like every other woman he'd been with? Her hands lifted to his chest, and she meant to push him away; instead her fingers clutched at his shirt. She swallowed past the lump in her throat—a mixture of desire and fear shot through her. "I…I have to go," she said weakly, making no attempt to move.

"I'm not stopping you, Anastasia," he said as his arms released her.

"I know," she whispered.

It was a moment before he spoke again. "You're still here," he pointed out, his voice gruff.

"Yes," she breathed.