The Lucky Ones

Chapter 11

Goodbye Girl

Monday, May 9, 2011

Anastasia

"Yes, Anastasia, I have a proposal for you. I'd like to continue our relationship past this weekend. I'd very much like a Dominant/submissive relationship with you."

I had hoped Christian would want to date me, but knowing that to be unlikely, I prepared myself for rejection.

I'm completely unprepared for the suggestion that I become his submissive.

"Have you felt this way since we first met? Has this always been your plan?"

"From the moment we met, I've felt the strongest attraction to you. It's much more powerful than anything I've ever felt before. Within five minutes of meeting you, I considered making you my submissive. After getting to know you, I dismissed the idea."

"If you dismissed it, then why have you come back to it?"

"I want to continue seeing you, and this is the only kind of relationship I have with women."

"And you don't see any other way?"

On the face of it, I find absolutely nothing appealing about BDSM. There is surely more to it than I know, so I need to keep an open mind and hear him out. I pride myself on not being judgmental, and that's being tested right now.

"Look, the contract is just a starting place. Read it, and then we'll go over it, negotiating and refining our limits."

Damn it! He's avoiding my question. I ask again.

"Is this the only kind of relationship you'd consider having with me?"

"It's all I know. This weekend has been an experiment for me. It's been wonderful, but I don't know if I can maintain a traditional vanilla relationship. It's just not how I'm made."

"If I turn down this contract, can we be friends?"

"What kind of friends? Friends with benefits? Facebook friends?" He snorts derisively.

"I don't know. I've never done any of this before. Maybe friends with benefits. Or maybe friends who meet for coffee, go out to movies, meet for dinner."

"I don't want some loosey-goosey fuck buddy relationship. And I don't want to coffee klatsch with you. I want a structured sexual relationship, with a schedule, rules, and punishments. I want your submission, or I don't want anything at all."

"I see."

I'm trying to be the cool girl again, and not show the hurt I feel. We confessed our mutual crushes, and that had given me hope that we might somehow date.

"This is what I can offer you. I told you. I don't date, don't do hearts and flowers."

"Sure, I remember. You can't love me, won't love me. I haven't forgotten."

Christian stares at me expectantly, letting me know the next move is mine.

"Let me read through this, and I'll ask questions as I go. Then you, being the expert, can add whatever you think I need to know."

He hands me a glass of champagne and climbs into bed, propped up quietly next to me, sipping his champagne as I read. It's all fairly straightforward, and not until page four do I have questions.

"You want me for three months?"

"That's a standard term. We would renew our contract in three month increments."

"What if I wanted out earlier? You can't legally make me stay, can you?"

"No, of course not. This isn't legally binding. If you want to leave before the end of three months, I can't stop you, though three months won't be enough."

"How long have you been a Dominant?"

"Six years."

"Six years and fifteen women? Have you pretty much had a submissive continually throughout those six years?"

"No. There have been breaks, like now. It's been three months since I had a contract."

"What's the longest contract you've had?"

"I had a contract that lasted a year, and another that was nearly as long. Most were three months. One didn't last two weeks."

"Did you get tired of them?"

Christian looks guiltily toward the door, breaking eye contact.

"Yes. There were a few who didn't hold my interest for long. But contracts typically end because the sub wants more from me. If they want a boyfriend, I terminate the contract. I am always monogamous for the length of the contract."

"You're monogamous? What about the club liaisons?"

"I've only visited clubs when I was training or between contracts."

"When you said you were monogamous, you said it with a hint of pride. You value monogamy?"

"Yes, I place a high value on monogamy."

"You do realize that what you practice is serial monogamy. It can't be compared to the monogamy of couples who have maintained long term committed relationships."

"Do you doubt I would remain faithful to you and to the contract?"

"I'm not sure what to think, but since you switch partners so frequently, I fear you'll get bored with me and find another."

"You'll aggravate the hell out of me with your smart mouth, but I don't believe you'll bore me. I feel confident that I can maintain monogamy with you."

"How does contract renewal work? Do you sit down and have a meeting?"

"Yes. We go back through the contract to see if we need to make adjustments. If they've been a good submissive and we agree to renew, I gift them jewelry as a bonus. Pink diamonds every three months."

Note to self: Never wear pink diamonds.

"Always pink? Why is that?"

Wasn't he looking at pink diamonds when we were at Tiffany's? Maybe he wasn't shopping for his mother. Perhaps he was shopping for something to set aside for his next submissive.

"Women like pink, don't they? And pink reminds me of skin after it's been flogged and spanked."

"Just so you know, I've never liked pink diamonds. They're tacky."

I say this out of meanness. It's an immature, impulsive remark, and as soon as it's out of my mouth, I wish I could take it back.

Christian frowns, pained at my words, and reflexively turns his back on me.

"Christian? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I've really got nothing against pink diamonds. I was just lashing out, because I'm hurt. Please forgive me."

"I forgive you. Please try to stay open to the contract."

This beautiful man doesn't understand. I've already made up my mind about the contract. It's only morbid curiosity prodding me to continue studying it.

"Am I reading this correctly? Would I stay at your apartment every weekend, Friday through Sunday?"

"Yes. You'll have your own room. Submissives never enter my bedroom. I've never slept with a woman, other than you, and this weekend was a special situation."

"If we've already slept in the same room and in the same bed, what would it hurt to continue?"

"It's the way it's always been. You'll have a very nice room with its own bath. You can personalize the room and decorate however you like."

"When will I go out with friends? I visit my dad one weekend each month. This won't work for me."

"We can negotiate that. Please keep reading. I'll address your concerns."

"I'm sure you attend social events on weekends. Why should I remain at your apartment while you're working late or out socializing? Why can't I go home or out with my friends?"

"I need you at my beck and call. I need you waiting for me when I get home."

Yep, it's all about him.

"So you get to socialize, but I don't. I just sit and wait for you? Your submissives went along with that?"

"Yes. That's the way it's always worked."

"Does that seem fair to you?"

"My subs are happy to serve me. Their submission is a gift to me. I care for them and meet their needs, and that is my gift to them."

My virginity was a gift to him, but does he see that? And what needs does he think he's meeting with these submissives? It sounds as if he's only meeting physical needs, theirs and his.

"Which needs do you meet, other than pain and sex?"

"I provide a car, clothes, and other things they may need."

"Your submissives are bought and paid for, just like those women at the sex clubs."

"It's not like that. Anastasia, you are being disrespectful of me and my submissives, when you talk about them that way. A submissive derives pleasure from serving her Dominant, irrespective of gifts."

"I'm being disrespectful? You're the one paying them, and they're the ones accepting. You call them gifts. I call them payments. To-may-to, to-mah-to."

Christian wisely closes his mouth. I think he knows I'll continue to argue with him over the terms of his arrangement.

I turn the page. Oh, shit.

"Use my body in any way you deem fit?"

Hell to the no! I can't wait to hear Christian's lame ass response.

"You will have limits in place and safe words. I would never use your body without your consent. The submissive holds the power in the relationship."

"I thought the one with the money and the torture implements held the power."

"Anastasia, when you are disrespectful, you exhibit your ignorance about the lifestyle."

I roll my eyes and shoot him a disgusted look.

"You won't loan me out? Well, that makes me feel ever so much better!"

"Having personal experience with being loaned out has shown me how important it is to reassure my submissives in writing."

Oh. My. God.

"Mrs. Robinson loaned you out? That's so fucked up."

My nausea has kicked up a notch, as bile rises at the thought of Christian being borrowed and used like a tool.

I reach out for him, but he scoots back, letting me know he doesn't need or want comfort.

I force myself to turn back to the contract, but the page is blurred by tears.

"Excuse me."

I rush to the bathroom and rinse my mouth from the faucet. I squat next to the toilet, thinking I may throw up, but the feeling passes. I blow my nose, wipe my eyes, and wash my hands. After a couple of minutes, I feel sufficiently composed.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure. Where were we?"

I find my place in the contract.

"Why can't I look directly into your eyes? We look at each other now. And why can't I touch you? Last night in bed you said my touch meant the world to you."

"It's all part of being submissive. It's the way I've always done things."

I reach Appendix One and read through more of Christian's warped rules.

"You can't tell me what to eat, how much to sleep and exercise. You want to choose my clothing? No! I want to wear my own clothes, Christian. And why do I need to be waxed? Have my pubes been bothering you? After reading this contract, I don't know how you've been able to stand me these past few days!"

"Your hairy pussy is perfect, baby. You are beautiful, exactly as you are. Strike the waxing requirement, but the sleep, diet, and exercise requirements are for your health and safety."

"Can't you trust me to take care of myself? You've said over and over again, you don't want to hurt me, you'll never hurt me. Well, I won't let you have the opportunity to hurt me. I won't be punished, and you'll never come near me with canes or whips!"

I am beyond hurt. It's as if Christian has no idea who I really am.

Christian

Anastasia shoots me a scorching look.

"No, Christian, no fisting, no genital clamps. No. I don't want this. This isn't for me."

Anastasia glares at me with burning, reproachful eyes. Her curt voice lashes out.

"We should discuss this. Don't dismiss it out of hand. Everything is negotiable."

This deal is going south in a hurry. Let's see if I can turn this sinking ship around.

"Christian, I'm just not right for you."

Glowering at me, she tosses the contract on the floor.

"Please let me explain, show you some websites. Let's talk this through. Open your mind to the possibilities of what we can be together."

Our bodies fit together perfectly. Each tryst has been a marvel. I didn't know it was possible for two people to be sexually in sync the way Anastasia and I are. Perhaps her lack of experience prevents her from seeing what is so clear to me.

"I don't want to look at websites. What is there to talk about? I don't judge you. If you need this BDSM stuff, I accept that as who you are. I don't know enough about all of it to make judgments. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll explore some of it with a boyfriend."

What the fuck? She won't explore it with me, but she'll do it with some mythical boyfriend? I don't get it.

"Christian, it's not the BDSM that I'm most upset about. There are other things that concern me more."

"Like what?" She's so confounding. We're just going around in circles.

"Christian, I'm hurt, because I thought you understood me better than this. I'm hurt, because the last thing I expected was for you to treat me like an employee."

"Employee?" Shit. How did this fall off the rails? What is she talking about?

"Yes, employee! A contract, Christian. The only kind of relationship I'd draw up a contract for is a business arrangement."

"The contract is just us putting our thoughts on paper. I want to continue seeing you. I don't want to lose the connection I have with you. This is what I can offer. If you agree to be mine, I'll be devoted to you. Only you."

"Devoted to me? And what would this devotion look like?"

"Your health and safety will be my priority. You'll have a personal trainer, a brand new Audi A3, a new wardrobe. You can get spa treatments whenever you like. If you want your own place, I'll get you an apartment. I'm offering monogamy. Exclusivity. I promise to devote my resources to making your life as comfortable as possible. If you don't want to work, I'll pay you to stay home. That way we could have 24/7 TPE."

Nothing would make me happier than having Anastasia waiting for me every time I walk through my front door.

"24/7 TPE? What's that?"

"Total Power Exchange, complete submission, round-the-clock."

"Oh, the offer just gets better and better. What the hell! That's your idea of devotion? Why don't you just leave a stack of cash on the nightstand? And while you're at it, plunge a dagger through my heart!"

"Stop equating submission and prostitution! You aren't even trying to understand."

I'd like to spank Anastasia for her insolence, but right now she is full-on crying. She snuffles and sniffles, choking back little sobs. She gives me a bitter look and runs to the bathroom for tissues.

I follow her into the bathroom, and as I reach for her, she moves away, out of the confines of the small space and back to the bed. Does she not want to be near me?

"Anastasia? Anastasia, please. I want to continue seeing you. We can negotiate. Since you already know my family, perhaps you could accompany me to dinners at my parents' home. As a couple. Would that work?"

I'm giving this my best. What does she expect? From the beginning, I've been completely up front, telling her I don't date. She knows I can't give her romance.

"I'd like to see you again, too, Christian. But if this is the only kind of relationship you want, I'll have to take a pass. Your life is so complicated, and I fear this contract is just the tip of the iceberg. Are there other secrets?"

"No! I've told you everything, except my life before I was adopted. And I really don't want to talk about that. Can't we talk about forging some kind of arrangement? Perhaps you can accompany me to business dinners from time to time. I'll introduce you as my girlfriend."

"Please. Stop talking. Your words are hurting me and you don't even realize it."

She won't look at me. She's shutting me down. Why can't we discuss this? If I can just get her to open up, I know I can turn this deal around. I need to remind her of our mutual attraction.

"Come, Anastasia. Let me hold you." I pull her to me, and drag us up to the headboard so we can share a pillow. Her head is on my shoulder and I stroke her lovely chestnut hair.

After only a minute or so, she shifts, pulls away, and sits up. I don't like this, her breaking away from me.

"No, you're not playing fair. I know what you're doing. You're using our physical connection as a weapon."

"Let's talk things out. Let me show you some things on the internet. You say you have an open mind, so just look."

"Absolutely not! I've told you how I feel."

"Please don't leave me, Anastasia. I just found you."

"You're a Dominant, but I'm not a submissive. I make it a practice not to judge others, and if BDSM is what gets you off, who am I to question that? I enjoyed the role-play and spanking. When I have a boyfriend, I'll be able to tell him what I like, so thank you for that. But I have no interest in any type of contractual relationship. Please don't bring it up again."

Again, with the goddamned future boyfriend! I swear she enjoys tormenting me.

A heavy, sinking sensation settles in my gut.

I'll drop the idea of a contract and work out something else.

"Okay. No contract, Anastasia. But I'd still like to share some of the lifestyle with you."

"No. I don't think that would be a good idea."

"You said you'd try some of it with a boyfriend. Why not try with me?"

"You aren't a boyfriend, Christian."

"Well, I'm a boy. And we are friends, aren't we?"

I waggle my brows in an attempt to be playful and flirtatious. She's having none of it.

"Let's drop this. You've told me you'll never be a boyfriend. Stop trying to be something you aren't. We're supposed to be honest with one another."

"It's how I am. I told you. I knew you wouldn't like me, once you found out what I am."

"Christian…" She says my name in a soft, admonishing tone.

"What!?" I snap at her.

"I do like you. Very much. It's just that I can't be what you want. If I were to become your submissive, it wouldn't be authentic. It wouldn't be real. I'd always be wanting more, and you'd always be disappointed. That's not fair to either of us."

"You say you're open minded, but I feel judged."

"I wouldn't dare judge you for your sexual preferences, though I wonder if these truly are preferences. I wonder if perhaps Mrs. Robinson conditioned you to respond to BDSM, and since it's all you've really known, you only think you're a Dominant."

"Conditioned? Like one of Pavlov's dogs?"

That's insulting. She thinks I don't know my own preferences. Does she believe Elena has somehow programmed me to like BDSM? The idea is ridiculous.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"You think I don't know my own mind?"

"Maybe not. You seem to have a blind spot for your abuser. Mrs. Robinson."

"She's my friend. My only friend."

"If you said that to hurt me, mission accomplished."

"That wasn't my intention."

That's a lie. I did mean to hurt her. Anastasia has shown herself to be my friend, and I deliberately hurt her. Guilt washes over me

"Wasn't it?"

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve my ire. You just can't possibly understand what she did for me. She helped me when I was a teenager, and she continues to help me."

Anastasia reaches for my hand, and I let her take it. She takes my hand in both of hers, turning it, rubbing it softly.

"You're right. I don't understand. I must say goodbye, Christian. The reason goes beyond the BDSM, the contract, the haphephobia, and the dozens of women you've fucked. When you said you were monogamous with your submissives, you were lying."

"I've never lied to you, and I've never lied to them!"

"Not consciously. You may not be aware of it, but you and Mrs. Robinson are still in the midst of an affair. It may not be physical, but it is an emotional affair. You can call yourselves business partners, but I'd bet my next paycheck, there's more to it. You may not be having sex, but the mere fact you still hang out with your abuser tells me you two are enmeshed in some sort of sick codependency."

I yank my hand away from Anastasia. She has overstepped her bounds again!

"How dare you play armchair psychiatrist! You don't know shit about what she and I have shared. She's not my abuser. She's my savior. We've fucked in ways you can't even begin to imagine. Yes, before you and I met, Anastasia, I had a life."

As soon as the words leave me, I regret them.

"There you go again, trying to hurt me. Only this time it didn't work. I may have only taken a couple of psych courses, but I'll stand by what I said. I would never want to get in the way of what the two of you have. Don't forget the promise you made to never speak to her about me. I don't want my name to ever pass her lips."

Our verbal eviscerations must end. I decide to wave the white flag.

"I always honor my promises. As for my relationships with other women, we'll agree to disagree. I'm sorry things didn't work out, Anastasia. I'll miss you."

Anastasia

He regards Mrs. Robinson as his savior. Sweet mother of God, I'm in way over my head. Christian Grey is too far gone, too much for me to handle.

"I'm sorry, too. I'm going to my room. Please shred that contract. I don't want anyone to see my name on it."

"Of course. Ana?"

"Yes."

"May I sleep with you? Please. Without you, I'll have nightmares. I won't touch you."

There's the broken little boy. I can't turn him away.

"Okay. I'll sleep here."

For the fourth night in a row, he pulls my body to his, my back to his front. Christian wraps me in his warmth. It's wrong for me to allow this, but I'm selfish. I want to feel him against me, listen to his breathing, and bask in his musky male fragrance.

I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry. The tears come, silent and thick, burning the back of my throat.

Christian's life is just way too fucked up, and I can't handle it.

His hand strokes my cheek.

"You're crying."

"I'll be okay."

The last thing I remember before falling asleep is the solid comfort of Christian's hands caressing my shoulders.

XXXXXXX

I hear hushed voices. Elliot? It doesn't feel as though I've been asleep for long, and my eyes burn as I try to open them.

"No, don't wake her. Go get Mother."

Christian attempts to get rid of Elliot.

"But she's asking for Ana. She doesn't want anyone else."

Something must be wrong with Kate.

"I'm awake now. What's going on? Kate?"

"Yes, she's sick. Chills, headache. I think it's a fever. She's calling for you."

I'm wearing next to nothing in this babydoll set, but thankfully Elliot doesn't seem to notice. I throw on the satin robe and follow him to his room. Christian is right behind me.

"Bug?"

Kate opens her mouth as if to speak, but nothing comes out. Heat radiates from her body, and a hand to her forehead tells me she surely has a fever.

"Elliot says you have chills and a headache."

"Yes," Kate rasps.

"Anything else going on?"

"Hurts…all over."

"I'm sure you have a fever. Sounds like flu." I turn to Christian. "What time is it?"

"Just after five."

"Would you get Grace, please? Unless you think it's too early to wake her."

"I'll get her."

"Thanks."

"Elliot, could you go get a glass of ice water? Kate needs to stay hydrated."

"Be right back."

I get a washcloth, wet it with cold water, and wring it out. When I put it on Kate's forehead, she murmurs appreciatively.

"Feels...nice."

"Grace will be here in a minute. Anything else I should know? Are you congested?"

"No, but I've got a dry cough…just hurts everywhere. My eyeballs hurt."

"Kate?" It's Grace. "What's going on?"

I decide to answer for Kate.

"Chills, body aches, and a headache. She's been coughing, but says there's no congestion. Feels like she has a fever."

"Let's take her temp." Grace uses a digital ear thermometer.

"Could it be the flu?" I inquire. "It's not flu season, is it?"

"Flu can hit any time of the year. And this does look like flu. Oh, Kate, you definitely have a fever. It says 102.2."

Elliot brings the water, and he has very thoughtfully put a straw into the glass, making it easier for Kate. Elliot and I move pillows around and prop Kate up so she can drink.

Grace takes Kate's blood pressure and listens to her heart.

"Her heart rate is a bit high, but that's part and parcel of the flu. Kate, do you have any allergies?"

Kate shakes her head, closes her eyes, and relaxes into the pillow. She's asleep.

"Does Kate have any allergies?"

"No."

"Does Kate have a history of asthma or any kind of respiratory disease?"

"No, she's always been very healthy."

"Is she on any medication?"

"Birth control pill, but I don't know the name of it."

"I wouldn't ordinarily order an antiviral for a healthy young person, but with finals and graduation duties coming up, I know Kate will be anxious to get back on her feet. I'll order Tamiflu. Make sure she continues to take her birth control pill on schedule. Two aspirin every four hours for the fever, aches, and pains. Tamiflu every twelve hours until all ten tablets are gone. Continue to push fluids and plenty of rest. She should stay home and sleep all day until she feels well."

"Thank you. I feel better knowing you've looked her over."

"You're welcome, darling. Elliot and Christian, go back to bed. I'd like to speak to Ana for a minute. Can you come down to the kitchen?"

"Sure."

Elliot slides in next to Kate. Christian follows Grace into the hall, and seems reluctant to leave me alone with her.

"Christian, I'll see you later." I attempt to reassure him, but he looks mournfully sad.

"Are you feeling unwell, darling?"

"I'm fine," Christian dejectedly answers his mother.

Grace looks between the two of us. I turn away from both of them and walk quickly to the kitchen. Grace must have stayed behind to converse with Christian, because it feels as if a full minute passes before she joins me.

"Is this about Kate? Do you think I should call her parents right away? I was going to wait until we got home."

"No, this isn't about Kate, but I thought I would write out work and school excuses for both of you, what with Kate being sick and you serving as caretaker."

"Thank you. That would be helpful. Anything else?"

"When you mentioned Kate was on the pill, it made me think perhaps you might need a prescription. I overheard Elliot yesterday going on about the condom situation. I thought you might need birth control pills. Do you have a gynecologist?"

"No, I've never needed one."

"I treat adolescent girls and am well acquainted with birth control options. If you'd like a prescription, I'd be happy to provide one."

"Sure, that would be helpful."

"Let me check you out and ask a few questions."

Grace takes my blood pressure, which is a bit low, but apparently nothing to be concerned about. She takes a brief medical history and explains how the pill works, side effects, and what to do if I miss a dose. I'm to start taking it on the first day of my next menstrual period.

"Thank you, Grace. Truly. I can't thank you enough for being such an accommodating hostess, for being a friend. I know Kate feels the same way."

"It's my pleasure. Don't be a stranger, Ana. I hope you know you can come to either Cary or me if you ever need help."

"Yes, thank you."

"You look miserable. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really."

"Christian?"

"Yes. I don't need to tell you. We're both intractable. Stubborn as mules."

"Are you in love with him?"

"No, but if I hang around any longer, I will be."

"That's a bad thing?"

"I think so."

"Won't you take a chance on my son?"

"He's too much for me. His life is way too complicated."

"Too much for you? No, you two are very well matched. It's something I never thought I'd live to see."

"I'm cutting my losses, and I hope you won't hold it against me."

"Never."

"I'm going to try catching some sleep."

"Okay, darling."

Grace hugs me tightly.

I tiptoe back into Christian's room. He's wide awake, looking at his phone.

"I was just texting Reynolds. Walgreen's has a 24-hour pharmacy, so he's going into town for the Tamiflu. Thank you for coming back to me."

"Scoot over. I'd like to get more sleep."

"What did Mother want?"

"She offered up a prescription for birth control pills, and I accepted."

"You can't be serious! You're just going to walk off into the sunset and start fucking other men?"

"Yes. I intend to give my vagina a well-deserved rest, and starting this Saturday, I'm going to fuck every fifth guy I meet. I'm sure I can get my numbers up to your level in no time."

"It's unlike you to be so vulgar. I suppose you think that's funny."

"No. What's funny is you, thinking you have a say in my life."

"I'm withdrawing the contract, Ana. Please forget I ever showed it to you. I'll take you any way I can get you. You set the terms. Just please don't leave me."

"You're used to getting your own way, and right now I'm a challenge. If we were together, you'd tire of me quickly."

"That's not true."

"I need rest. I don't want to argue. We're just going around in circles. Let's sleep."

"If you want a boyfriend, I'll be one."

"We've been through this. You say you'll be a boyfriend, and then you'll pull a bait and switch, and start acting like a Dom."

"But you're looking for a boyfriend?"

"Yes, eventually."

"Someone who will show you proper devotion?"

"Yes."

"You rejected my devotion. What's your definition?"

He won't be interested in meeting my standards, but I'll entertain him by listing them. It takes me a moment to collect my thoughts.

"Devotion is trust, honesty, and absolute transparency. It's kindness, appreciation, affection, and romance. Devotion is playfulness and intimate conversation. Devotion is putting your partner above everything and everybody else."

"You're expecting a lot."

"I'm worth a lot. I have self-esteem issues and insecurities, but I'm healthy enough to know that I deserve love and respect."

"Please, Anastasia, can we work this out? God damn it! You are mine!"

In an attempt to soothe him, I gently rub his biceps.

"Sleep, Christian. Now. Please try to sleep, or I'll go to the other room."

Christian

Bits of light filter through the slats of the wooden blinds. I'm relieved to see Anastasia is still beside me. She is always beautiful, but particularly so when she sleeps.

I reach for my phone. I take several photographs of Anastasia. I won't have her, but I'll be able to look at her images and know that this weekend was real.

It's nearly eight. I text Elliot.

C: How's Katherine?

E: Sleeping soundly. I gave her aspirin and Tamiflu.

C: Do you think K will sleep long enough for me to be alone with A?

E: I'm taking care of my girl. You take care of yours. ; )

I cannot resist her. I nuzzle her neck, leaving behind soft kisses. I move to her chest, and she wakes in confusion.

"Christian. What are you doing?"

"Showing my devotion. Do you like it?"

"It feels great. Your whiskers tickle."

She smiles, and it's almost as if the contract debacle never occurred.

"Will you have me? Could you still want me?"

"I'll never stop wanting you, Christian. We can have sex, but I'll just be using you. I won't change my mind about some kind of arrangement between us."

"I'm fine with being used. Use me, Anastasia. I want to show you my devotion."

"I should go check on Kate."

Anastasia sits up and I playfully pull her back down.

"I just texted El and he says she's sleeping soundly."

"I should still check on her—"

"Please!"

The interjection comes out sounding frantic and needy. I start again, calmer.

"Please let me have you one last time. Please, Anastasia. If you must leave me, please don't hate me. Please let me show you that I care for you."

I shamelessly beg. As an adolescent, I begged Elena. But between then and now, I've never begged a woman for anything. Women are the ones begging me.

Anastasia has no idea of the power she holds over me.

She climbs atop me, wraps both arms around my neck, and kisses me hard. Her gaze is sweet and affectionate.

"I could never hate you. Would you allow me to examine you, every inch of you? I won't touch your back or chest. It's just that you are so beautiful. I want to look at you and I want to remember."

Elena saw all of me, up close and personal, when I was her submissive.

My submissives see parts of my body, but never all of me completely naked. They are blindfolded or restrained in such a way that their view of me is always limited.

Anastasia has already seen all of me. I'm not sure what she wants to do, but she's very respectful of my boundaries.

"Sure. Just be careful."

"If I do something weird, please tell me, and I'll stop."

"It's you and me, baby. Nothing we do could be weird. It's us."

She nods gently and begins playing with my hair, touching my scalp, then my brows, closing her eyes and running her fingers over my facial bones. Her eyes travel the front of my body, stopping to study the scars on my chest.

"How did you get these funny little marks?"

"It's part of my past. The early part. I don't talk about it."

"Okay." She stills. "Will you let me do something?"

"Depends." Shit. It probably has something to do with the scars.

"That tuft of hair on your sternum is very inviting. Don't worry, I'm not going to touch it with my fingers, but I wonder if I might use my tongue. I've been dying to put my mouth on it, kiss it, and run my tongue through it."

"That's probably not a good idea."

"Sure. I understand."

Her smile is tight, polite. She doesn't want me to feel bad about myself. She runs her hands up and down my bare arms.

"May I look at your armpits?"

Now that's something Elena never did.

"Sure, just look." I'll be damned if Anastasia doesn't move her face down to my pits. She inhales deeply taking a whiff of each armpit.

"You smell divine. I wish I could bottle it. May I lick your armpits? Please."

I consider her request, and decide the danger threshold is low. After all, this is Anastasia.

"Yes, my little freak. But let me hold your hands. That way, if I have a reaction, I'll be able to push you away. Don't take it personally, if I can't handle it."

Slowly, carefully, Anastasia uses her nose to nudge my right arm up away from my body. She presses her lips to my armpit, kissing gently. It tickles ever so slightly, and there's something intimate and erotic about it. She moves to the other armpit and plants another sweet kiss.

"I'm going to lick you now. Are you ready?"

"Yes." I close my eyes and tighten my grip on her hands.

The wet warmth of her tongue invades the auburn thicket, creating a delicate tickling sensation. A shock of pleasure shoots through me, and I erupt in goose bumps. I reflexively close my armpit and pull away from her.

We both laugh heartily.

Anastasia's done it again, given me another precious memory. She makes me normal, a regular guy, an average Joe. Just a boy being playfully tickled by his girl.

I recall Dad playing tickle games with Elliot and Mia. For obvious reasons, I couldn't participate, and I always felt like the outsider looking in.

With Anastasia, I am an outsider no more.

"Still interested in kissing that spot in the middle of my chest?"

"Are you offering?" Her voice has an eager edge.

"Yes." I'm hyperventilating.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Do it. Before I lose my nerve."

I hold fast to her hands. As she leans over me, a lush brown curtain falls around her face, brushing across my chest. Shit, that feels good.

Her target is on my sternum at the nipple line. Anastasia slowly lowers her lips. Her eyes meet mine, checking to see if it's still okay. I nod in agreement.

Her pink lips softly caress the small depression in the center of my chest. Her tongue swirls and twirls through the coarse, springy hair. There is no pain, only pleasure and arousal.

"Baby, I need you."

"Take what you need."

I roll her over, covering her body with mine. I kiss the pulsing hollow at the base of her neck, and slowly work my way up to her eager lips, leaving tiny kisses in my wake.

My greedy mouth meets its match. Our tongues battle, as we gnash teeth, bite and suck each other's lips.

There's an urgency to this coupling, making it different from anything we've done before. Nails dig into my biceps and buttocks, clawing at my flesh. Hands yank my hair so hard I fear I will lose chunks of my scalp. In return, I pound away in a punishing rhythm. In every thrust there is anguish, rage, fear, and regret. Our bodies grind, push, and dig, as if each of us is trying to climb inside the other.

She comes quickly, in a great tremor. As she calls my name, I feel her velvety heat close in around me. I am overcome, and fall apart in her arms.

She has no idea of the powerful hold she has on me. Quite simply, Anastasia has changed my life.

There are no words. We hold each other for a time, and stare into each other's eyes.

Anastasia has the courage to do what needs to be done. She releases me and sits up.

"It's time to pack. It's time to go home."

And just like that, she's gone.

The condom feels loose. I remove it, and find a rip at the bottom. To my great relief, it appears that my ejaculate remained inside the condom.

Anastasia

When I arrive at Elliot's room to help Kate prepare for our flight, I find Mia, Elliot, and Kate curled up together on the bed, chatting quietly. Kate is already dressed and ready to go. Elliot has bathed Kate, washed her hair, and helped her dress. Mia styled Kate's hair into a messy bun.

"Bug, you look like you've got everything you need. How's the fever?"

"Better." Kate still sounds raspy and weak.

"Down to 101, so that's good." Mia speaks for Kate. "She's drinking lots of water and hot lemonade, but says she still feels awful."

"I'm running behind schedule, so I'll go throw myself together. Back in a few."

Mrs. Garza is at my door with some laundry.

"These things are yours or Miss Kate's. Not being certain, and not wanting to bother her, with the flu and all, I thought I'd bring them to you."

"Thank you so much. Do you mind coming into the room for a moment?"

"Of course not."

I lead Mrs. Garza to the closet, where I've stowed the packed luggage.

"I'm deliberately leaving these things behind. I want you to know, so you won't try to return them to me. Feel free to keep them for yourself or donate them to charity. Some of the clothes still have price tags on them."

"Why on earth would you leave your clothes and luggage behind?"

I give Mrs. Garza the basic 411 on how Kate and I received a new wardrobe from Christian, and how Christian purchased the luggage as a graduation gift.

"I don't feel right keeping the clothes. It makes me feel cheap, like he paid me to hang out with him."

Mrs. Garza seemingly knows everything about everyone. She probably knows I was doing more than hanging out.

"Do you like the clothes and luggage?"

"Yes."

"When you look at them or wear them, do you have bad feelings?"

"No."

"So is this a point of pride with you, not accepting anything from Mr. Christian?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"If I had a daughter, I would hope she would be just like you. You're a good girl. And if you were my daughter, I'd tell you to stop being so proud. You should be practical."

"Practical?"

"Yes. A woman must learn to choose practicality over principle. Take it from me. I learned my lesson from my first marriage."

"What happened?"

"My first husband was a bit older than me, and had a child from a previous marriage. He didn't want any more children, and he talked me out of having any children of my own. I thought things were fine between us, but when I was 35, and he was 51, he had an affair, and got the woman pregnant. I was devastated."

"The cheating bastard!"

"Yes, and stupid me walked away from the marriage with nothing, all because I refused to take anything from our life together. Nothing more than idiotic pride on my part. I had been penny-pinching for years, and after the divorce I learned that our little plumbing business was worth three million dollars. I never got to have my own child, and I had to start over with nothing. Life has been quite difficult."

"That's a hard-learned lesson. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that."

"So, Miss Ana, if your conscience is clear, take the clothes and luggage. You and Miss Kate should accept them graciously as gifts, for I'm sure that is what Mr. Christian must have intended."

"I'll carefully consider what you've told me. If you find the luggage in the closet, you'll know what to do with it, won't you?"

"Yes." She smiles sweetly. "It was nice meeting you. I wish you the best. You and Miss Kate are kind, genuine people. I'll be asking about both of you each time I see the Greys."

In a rush of affection, I pull Mrs. Garza in for a hug.

"Thank you. For the good wishes and the lesson."

After the door closes, I consider Mrs. Garza's life story.

Her situation and mine are not really analogous, but I understand her point.

I may get a temporary high from the lofty moral superiority I will feel by rejecting Christian's gifts. The fact is, I like the clothes and luggage. I need them, and can put them to good use.

It is pragmatism that drives me to reject Christian, the man. Such a complicated man would lead to a complicated relationship, and ultimately, a broken heart.

I had planned to wear the plum dress on the flight back to Seattle, leaving behind physical evidence of my time with Christian. Instead I dig through the luggage for the comfort of Nikes, skinny jeans, and a button-down. I pack away the dress, and wheel the suitcases out into the empty hall, so they can be loaded into the truck.

Christian

"Now that we have everyone together, it's time to present the prize for Best Team, Mother's Day Weekend, 2011."

Mia has everyone's attention. She waves a thick manila envelope above her head.

Natalia moves through the cabin, serving soda, juice, and water from her small cart.

"The winning team impressed us with their dancing, sing-alongs, breakfasts, and Pictionary skills. And let's not forget the condom challenge. Christian and Ana, please come forward."

Ana and I are greeted with cheers, whistles, and applause.

We haven't spoken since she left our bed this morning. It's not that things between us are awkward or strained. We're avoiding each other in an attempt to protect ourselves from more hurt.

Ana and I step forward, each of us coming to stand on opposite sides of Mia.

"The prize is a five night stay for two in the Presidential Suite at the very romantic Four Seasons Resort in Maui. In the envelope are vouchers for dining, and activities like snorkeling, trail rides, parasailing, and whale watching. When you're ready to go, call the number inside, and they'll set you up."

Mia tries to hand the envelope to me.

"No, give the envelope to Anastasia. She's in charge of travel."

Anastasia takes the envelope and hugs Mia. She looks over at me and mouths "thank you."

I don't want anyone to know that she and I are parting ways, though they'll all figure it out soon enough. There will be questions, and I don't want to deal with any of that right now.

I sit alone. I watch Anastasia throughout the flight, as she shares the sofa with Kate and Elliot. She speaks easily with my family and security. She fits seamlessly into my life.

So much is clear to me now.

Flynn warned me against offering her the contract, but my hubris led me to believe she'd accept whatever I offered her. Not wanting to change myself, I attempted to force change upon Anastasia.

Taylor has arranged delivery of everyone's car to the parking area next to my private hangar. I observe as Sawyer helps Anastasia load luggage into the trunk of Katherine's black Mercedes. Elliot helps Katherine into the passenger side, and over the hood of the car, Anastasia speaks to Elliot.

It's my last chance.

"Anastasia!"

I run to her and gently pull her away from the car.

"Couldn't you try? I can be your boyfriend."

"We've been through this."

"Might I persuade you?"

"No. For the rest of my life, I want to remember the way we've been this weekend, your scent, your taste, your breathing when you move inside me. I don't want our last words to be ugly and sad. If I were your submissive, or if you forced yourself to be a boyfriend, we'd end up unhappy, saying cruel things to one another."

Anastasia's head nuzzles my chest, and it feels heavenly.

She's right, of course. She'd be a terrible submissive. I'd certainly be a lousy boyfriend.

I wrap my arms around her small frame. I claim her lips.

"Mine."

"Yours. Always."

"Goodbye, Anastasia."

My heart is vanquished.

My girl is gone, off to conquer more hearts.