Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story are those from the Fifty Shades Trilogy. They remain the rightful property of E L James. Recognisable brands, places, music or films remain the property of their owners. No copyright infringement is intended.
SuzB – Thank you! I'm really glad you're still enjoying this story and looking forward to seeing how things will develop. :) I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x
Happy Monday, Everyone! (Still Monday here for at least another fifteen minutes…)
I hope you're all well. Thank you for the response on the last chapter! I really appreciate you reading this story and sending your comments my way. It always means so much. :)
This chapter is longer than usual, to make up for the delay. I hope you like it!
Always working on more!
See you soon.
Much Love,
Chelsea x
I perched on the edge of the couch and placed the contract on the coffee table, faced down. I let my fingers reside on the back page for a moment, a certain heat radiating from it. My mind bounced with all kinds of thoughts and ideas.
I shook my head and took a slow, deep breath. There is room for compromise, I reminded myself. He said that submissives can raise concerns and each point will be agreed on - or changed, if needs be. If there's room for manoeuvre, it can't be that bad, surely? He doesn't look like a lunatic or a serial killer. He looks normal…
I could hear my mother's voice echoing from the back of my mind, chastising me for overthinking everything. She would always grow frustrated with me, annoyed at how I could never do anything without thinking of all the possible consequences first. She used to say that one day it would hold me back from the adventures fate had lined up for me. She said I needed to just let go and enjoy living in the moment. She certainly wouldn't have had this in mind but maybe she was right… There's a first time for everything.
"One glass of orange juice," Christian appeared suddenly at my side, snapping me out of my thoughts. He gave me a quick smile and slid the glass down onto the coffee table. "Are you still hungry? I can grab something if –"
"I'm fine, thank you," I shook my head and snorted a laugh. "I think I've eaten enough to feed the five thousand. I've never seen so much food in my life!"
"Mrs Jones always keeps the kitchen well-stocked," he nodded.
"Please thank her for me? It was delicious."
He smiled and dropped down onto the couch, sitting at my side. He leaned back against the cushions and crossed his legs, placing the foot of his wine glass on his knee. His arm stretched out behind me. The heady mix of his aftershave and body wash teased my senses. I ribbed my lower lip between my teeth and drummed my fingers on my thigh. I wanted to bring my feet up underneath me, but –
"Make yourself comfortable," he murmured. I snapped my head towards him. He smiled. "I want you to feel comfortable here. At ease."
My shoulders dropped forward and I smiled. I pulled my feet up and sat on them, momentarily leaning into his side.
"So where would you like to start?" he asked, lifting a hand to my cheek. He pulled a tendril of hair back behind my ear.
"Um, where do you think we should start?" I shrugged, my skin heating up and growing flush. "I'm the novice here. You're the S&M expert."
He resisted a laugh. "I've been practicing for a long time."
"How long have you been doing it?"
"Since I was fifteen," he answered, casually, completely off the cuff. My eyes widened and I jerked my head back. "I was a submissive for a few years, and then we switched."
"Switched?"
"My domme became my submissive," he clarified. "She trained me. She's a highly experienced domme. She's been in this lifestyle longer than I've been alive."
"Wow…" I blew out my cheeks. "So she's older than you?"
"Significantly," he nodded. "But it was what I needed back then. I was a mess and she helped to keep me on the straight and narrow. I credit my success to her."
I pursed my lips. There's a strange sort of glistening in his eyes as he thinks about her. It's unreadable.
"Do you still see her, speak to her?" I asked. He nodded again but didn't elaborate or give any more details.
He lifted up from the couch and turned, abruptly leaning over the arm. He came back up with a silver laptop. Placing it on his thighs, he snapped open the lid and brought the screen to life. The background image was of a tall, spire building, with a steel sign in front of it, reading Grey Enterprises Holdings.
"Bringing work home with you?" I laughed quietly, nodding my head to the screen. He frowned at me and searched my face.
"This is my personal computer," he shook his head, dismayed.
"Oh, right," I held my breath.
"Why, don't you approve of my wallpaper?" he arched his brow. "Did you expect something darker, sexual?"
I gulped. "I don't know… just something more… personal?"
"My work is my life," he answered. "Right. Maybe we should begin with the links I sent you?"
He opened up his emails and quickly located the message he sent to me. There are three links waiting to be opened. He hovered the mouse over the first, but I stopped him before he could select it.
"I'm not… You're not going to show me anything that's, you know…" I tilted my head.
"Nothing sinister," he reminded me for what must be the hundredth time. He shook his head and tried his best to soften his expression. "I'm not going to show you any live play. I don't watch that sort of thing, so I wouldn't expect you to."
"You don't watch porn?"
He shook his head and returned his eyes to the computer. I inhaled a long, slow breath and nodded, giving him the okay to open the first link.
A black webpage loaded on the screen, with a soft melody developing from behind the abyss. It's a single violin and sounds so familiar. At first, I couldn't quite place where I'd heard it before, not until the word 'Maîtrise' appeared in the centre of the page. A box popped up underneath it, requesting a username and password in order to continue.
"I didn't know the club had a website," I told him as he typed in his details. I'd searched for the club on Google but all that came up was the advertisement from the paper and a red point on the map of Seattle.
"Each of the clubs have a website," he explained, his gaze hardly leaving the screen.
"How many clubs are there?"
"Worldwide? Millions," he nodded once. "But we only have three. New York, Chicago, and Seattle. New York was the first to open. Esclavage."
"Part of the Esclava chain?" I arched my brow at him, remembering the wording from the advert. He nodded. "It's French, right?"
"Both Elena and I speak French. Esclavage means bondage," he said. "The club in Chicago opened two years later. It's called Châtiment. Punishment."
"Hm, I'm detecting a theme here," I narrowed my eyes and chuckled under my breath. He returned my laugh. "What does Maîtrise mean then? I don't understand French."
"Mastery," his lips curled around the word like a vine. He dropped his gaze and I detected a slight blush in his cheeks. "I chose the name. Elena insisted that I choose it. I normally don't get involved in that sort of thing. I leave everything to her. It's the profit that matters to me."
I had no doubts that the reason she asked for his input was to bring him closer to the franchise – closer to her. Even from just the few times that I've seen them together, it's obvious that she demands his attention. She craves it and I don't know why.
"You own sixty percent of the chain, it's only right you have a say," I shrugged, reluctant to side with Ms Lincoln.
"When she gave me the money for GEH, I didn't ask for her input when I decided on a name," he countered with a frown. "My percentage of the chain is strictly collateral. I'm protecting my investment."
"I sensed as much," I nodded. He doesn't strike me as the type to give anything away for free. "Do you trust her to protect your investment?"
He sighed and blinked slowly. "Elena is a good friend of mine, regardless of the shit she tries to pull. But I don't trust anyone where money's concerned. I've been in this industry long enough to know that you only ever look after yourself. Given half a chance, she'd screw me over to make a profit and she openly admits that."
"Some friend," I snorted, shaking my head.
He didn't rise to my comment. He jerked his head back to the screen, where the homepage is now in full view.
"All members are given a username and default password when they complete their registration forms," he began to explain, dropping our previous conversation in an instant. His expression returned to its stony, preferred state. "Without a username, no one can gain access to the website, and it can't be searched for online. We've taken every step to hide it from the public eye… That's why I included my username and password in the email, so you could access the site."
"Do staff members have accounts?"
"No. If a member of staff wants to access the site, they need to apply for an account through Mr Hunter."
I frowned, my brows lowering around my eyes. Why doesn't he ever call him Cal?
Christian navigated the homepage and brought up a video, enlarging it so it covered the whole width of the screen. He pressed play and turned up the volume.
The video opened with a series of black and white photographs from inside the club, and one of the exterior. They are artsy images, tasteful and mysterious. There's only one focal point in each image, with everything else blurred. Behind the pictures is the same melody as before – the club's signature sound. It starts slow, just a tease, and then builds into waves of crescendo. It's eerie and alluring all at the same time. My nerves are heightened as the images move into Ms Lincoln's office, before developing into coloured film.
Turning slowly to face the camera, Ms Lincoln appears from behind her long, mahogany desk. She gave a wide, fake grin, and placed her hands down on the desk top.
"Welcome to Maîtrise," she greeted in a soft tone, so very far removed from the way she greeted me on the day of my interview. Her piercing stare never faltered. "Maîtrise is the newest club in the Esclava chain, and the first to open in Seattle. I am personally so excited to bring this club to my home. To share a piece of myself with you… Why don't we take a tour?"
She rose from behind the desk and smoothed down her body-tight dress. It hugged her willowy frame with its mix of fabric and leather. She looks drawn and fatal, the only colour coming from her blood red lips. She rounds the camera and gives a slight wink into the lens, before the view drops to the floor. The camera follows her heels as she walks through to the bar. I feel inferior in an instant, following hot on her heels. She's in charge. She's a dominant.
After a few moments, the camera cuts to her as she stands behind the bar.
"We have every liquor you could ever ask for, right here behind this very bar top. Just ask one of our tenders and they'll fulfil any order you present," her serpentine tongue peeked from between her lips. In the corner of my eye, I see Christian shift and squirm in response. I turned my head slightly and saw him grimace. "There are several private booths down here, perfect for lengthy discussions or for a group meeting… For somewhere more private, why not ask a tender about hiring a room upstairs? Reservations can be booked online or while you're here. We cater to all your wishes."
I swallowed back the bile building in my throat. I hate the sight of her. I've never harboured such ill feelings in my life.
"When you arrive, all you need to do is give your name to a tender and they will check you into a room. Once you're checked in, the room is yours for a minimum of one hour. Need more time? Not a problem. Your account will be charged directly, so there is no need for paperwork or cash handling."
Ms Lincoln picked up a small tumbler from underneath the bar and knocked back whatever liquid was inside it. She swallowed without grimace or issue. Her tongue emerged again and teased the fullness of her bottom lip.
"Whether you're here with friends or on your own, there's something for everyone. Come with me," she turned her back to the camera and the shot returned to her heels.
She began to climb the staircase, the view widening only when she had reached the top floor and had moved over to the smaller bar at the back of the vestibule. She waved her arms out to the sides and admired her surroundings.
"This level is permanently manned, so don't ever worry about being left alone with a new partner. Or two," she winked again. "You can request an observer if you're feeling nervous. My staff are happy to observe all play to make sure everything is above board… If you're completely new to the community, we offer training on all equipment and apparatus, and we'll even give you all the best tips and tricks to ensure you and your partner are fully satisfied."
She eased backwards, towards the store closet. She opened the door and revealed a long, darkened room with shelves scaling the length of each wall. There are boxes everywhere, neatly piled and no doubt in alphabetical order.
"We stock all types of toys," she explained to the camera, curling her finger to beckon it nearer. "Feathers, chains, leather bonds… plugs, vibrators, dildos. Whatever you want. Within reason, of course." She gave a smirk. "If you require any form of suspension, we need to be notified in advance of your arrival. Just to give our team enough time to unpack and safely assemble the equipment… But if you need anything extra while you're here, just ring the bell when you're inside one of the rooms. There are two calling bells: by the door and by the bed."
She stepped further inside the closet and looked to the left and then to the right. The camera zoomed in and mimicked her, revealing two passageways winding around and away from the door. I leaned forward to get a better view. Christian turned the laptop closer to me, refusing to meet my eye when I looked to him.
"If you don't want to join in the fun, it doesn't mean you can't appreciate the party," Ms Lincoln whispered. She looked to the left. "Each private room is home to several two-way mirrors, allowing you the privilege of witnessing some truly amazing scenes. Each mirror has its own private closet, with enough room for four people. These closest are bookable only by the tender on the top floor of the club."
She started sashayed down the passageway, following the circular route. She stopped at the door marked '3', and opened it to reveal another set of three doors. Without fluster, she threw open the door directly in front of her and stood aside, allowing the camera to check out the small, all-black room. There is a velvet curtain drawn back around a glass panel, looking straight into one of the rooms.
"Unleash your voyeuristic tendencies," Ms Lincoln took a seat on one of the four plush chairs. "You can enter a closet on your own or with a friend. Each of the eighteen closets come supplied with lubricants and tissues… But if you're ready to play, I'd recommend a visit to one of our six -"
Christian ended the video and shut down the screen, his breath quickening slightly. I opened my mouth in a bid to say something but he shook his head.
"The rest is just a tour of the rooms," he tensed. "You've already seen one of the rooms, there's no need for a repeat. Besides, I'd rather acquaint you with my playroom."
I nodded. That makes sense. I don't plan on ever entering one of the rooms at the club again.
"I didn't know about the mirrors," I muttered. I brought my fingers to my lips and starting gnawing on my thumbnail. "That's really…"
"Creepy?" he arched his brow. I nodded. "I agree. It wasn't my idea to install them. Elena is a voyeur."
I tried not to roll my eyes. I could've guessed that myself. "Are the mirrors downstairs like that, too?" I asked instead. The whole club is covered in mirrors. You can't escape your reflection, except for in Ms Lincoln's office.
"No," he shook his head. "The mirrors downstairs are just that. One way. They were implemented after an incident with drug taking happened in New York. We have zero tolerance on weapons and drugs. With mirrors everywhere, members and employees can be seen from all angles. It stops things from going unnoticed."
"So when people go into those closets…" I tilted my head and he nodded, knowing exactly what I was going to say. "That's really weird."
"It's just one of the reasons I'll never use a club again."
"Again? You've used a club before?"
"I only had my own playroom when I moved into this apartment," he explained. "Before that, I was with my domme and we used her playroom. We separated two years before I moved in here. During that time, I used several different clubs."
"Are there many clubs around here?" I wondered.
He nodded. "This community exists and functions only because of its ability to go under the radar. There are places just like Maîtrise all over the place. They're just not advertised. You have to know where to look for them. It's like a chain. All of our members are linked together. When we started Esclavage we needed to make sure we could trust the people coming into the club. We didn't want cops traipsing through the place, finding reasons to shut us down. To the outside world, the clubs are just private cocktail bars for elites and professionals… We vetted everyone and we still do. Nowadays, applicants need the backing of at least two existing members. They are asked to sign a contract and an NDA, and they agree to a monthly subscription fee. Bookings are extras. It's like a gym membership."
"Expensive?"
"Very," his eyes widened slightly. "There are different packages but the cheapest is $600 a month."
"Shit," I gasped. I shook my head in disbelief.
Christian returned the computer to his emails. He pointed to the link to the club website.
"You can find a full list of the club's terms and conditions on there," he informed me. "As well as the contract members are asked to sign. It's all there if you want to give it a read. I'm happy for you to use my details to access the site. We've already broken a whole host of rules, what's one more to add to the pile?" he smirked. I giggled at his comment.
He talked me through the other links he included in the email, briefly showing me each website to settle my doubts. There were no incriminating pictures, no sordid details being shoved in my face. One of the sites was the blog of a practicing submissive who goes by the name of Miss Bunny. The opening post is called 'A Welcome to Curious and Wandering Eyes.' Apt name, I thought to myself.
"Bunny is a very intelligent woman," Christian promised me. "She's been practicing for over thirty years. She writes about her experiences with dominants she's been involve with, the different scenarios she prefers, equipment she likes and dislikes… She's very candid at times, but it's not too explicit."
"Do you know her?"
He laughed. "No, no one knows her. She's never released any information about her. No descriptions of what she looks like, any details of where she's from. She's completely anonymous. She occasionally has guest writers to the site. All of them submissives."
"Are there are lot of male submissives?" I asked. "I mean, I don't want to be stereotypical but –"
"It's okay to ask," he smiled gently. "Submission is typically associated with women, we all know that. Dominance is a masculine trait. But you'd be surprised at just how many men are submissives. A lot of high-powered men submit. Stress relief."
"Are you strictly dominant?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "I need to be in control. I can't function without it. I never had it growing up and -"
"What do you mean, you never had control?"
"I think that's a conversation left for another time," he shot the topic down. His refusal to talk burdened my chest, leaving a heavy sensation surrounding my heart. It was exasperated by the momentary sadness passing over his face. He's pained. "Would you prefer to look through the other posts now or later, on your own?"
"I can read them at home," I nodded, glancing at the clock in the corner of his screen. It's getting late, already approaching half eleven. "Can I take the contract home with me, too?"
"Sure," he closed down the lid on his laptop and placed it on the far side of the coffee table. He picked up the contract and held it between his thumbs. "I don't want you to leave here without having looked at it first."
I understood his reasoning behind this. I've already expressed concerns. It'd be easy for me to take the contract home, shove it in a drawer and never look at it again. I could lie to him and say I've read it when I haven't.
He started talking me through the changes that can be made, explaining how a new contract will be drafted to reflect anything that needs to be added or omitted. When I asked how often changes are made, he smiled and told me all the time.
"Everyone is different. Some women prefer rough play, certain toys, it's important that I know the score before anything happens. It's a contract. It's binding and is there to protect everyone. It's business."
I let my eyes wander up and down the page he'd isolated for reading. "So you only meet with submissives for sex?"
"Yes," he nodded.
"No dates?"
"I've never been on a date."
"What? Never!?"
"Never," he repeated, no expression on his face. How can he never have been on a date? The man's a god walking amongst humans! "Have you been on many dates, Miss Steele?"
"One or two," I nodded. "None of them successful, though."
"What's your idea of a date, then?" he asked. "What would you like to do?"
"I don't know… dinner, maybe? A movie?" I shrugged. "But you don't do dates, Mr Grey, so I don't see why you'd be interested."
"Hm…" he hummed and narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm open to a compromise. I'm quite partial to dinner and a movie. I may even stretch to holding your hand…"
My cheeks warmed and I felt a soft, delicate warmth spread through my stomach.
"You've only ever done this sort of stuff, why change the habit of a lifetime? Why me? What makes me so different?" I shook my head.
"You intrigue me," he smiled. "I want to explore you."
"But why?"
"I don't know why," he smirked. I like it when he smirks. He looks younger, almost boyish behind his authoritative persona.
I dropped my eyes to his hands, watching as he started to flick through the rest of the contract. He stopped on the page which outlines what the submissive agrees to do with the dominant. I scanned it and came up clueless.
"I don't know what most of that means," I admitted. I pointed to the first bullet point on the page. "What is that?"
He bit his lip but couldn't hold back the laugh brewing in his chest. I leaned my head back, wondering what is so funny to him.
"Sorry," he shook his head. "That is oral sex… It's asking whether you are willing to give and receive oral sex."
"Right…" my mouth gaped and formed an O shape.
"Receiving isn't an issue for you," he confirmed. "You seemed to enjoy it last week, am I right?"
"I did," I licked my lips. I really enjoyed it… "But I haven't ever done that…"
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Now, is it something you'd feel comfortable trying?"
I gave myself a moment before nodding my head. I snorted a laugh. "I was going to say don't get your hopes up because I'm probably going to suck at it, but that's sort of the point, isn't it?"
Christian threw back his head and laughed a raucous and interesting sound. "I would love you to suck at it. And I'd love you to agree to this… So take the contract and give it a read. The majority of it is just for informational purposes. It wouldn't be applicable to us."
"It wouldn't?"
"No," he shook his head. "Not in the beginning. I'll need to train you up first, if you say yes."
"Train me up? Geez, this really is like a gym membership!" I giggled.
"I'll need to get you accustomed to play," he corrected himself. "We'd start off small. You can't rush into this. It takes time. Experience. Trust."
"I don't want to get hurt," I said it out loud, the words having pumped around my mind for a short while.
"It's not –"
"No, I know what you've said," I interrupted him. "It's not all about pain but –"
"Ana," he shushed me, placing his finger over my lips. "I don't want to hurt you… That's not my intention. Look, I won't take you into my playroom until you're ready. Not until you ask to go in there."
"Even if I agree to this?"
"Even if you agree to it," he nodded. He spread his palm across my cheek, cupping my jaw. "When you ask to go in the playroom, I'll take you in there."
"What if I never ask?"
"You will," he told me with such surety in his voice. "If you agree to try this, you'll want to go in there. I know you will."
"You seem pretty sure of that fact, sir," I toyed with him. His eyes grew heated at the word 'sir'. He took the contract away and threw it down on the table. Shifting, he leaned closer to me and slid his hand up my thigh.
"I am sure of it," he mouthed. "I'm sure of it in the same away I know that in about three minutes you will be naked, spread out underneath me -" his fingers gripped my leg, squeezing on every other beat.
"Three minutes?" I gulped, my eyes flickering between his and his lips. "That long?"
"In five minutes –" his fingers pushed deeper into my thigh, sending an electric jolt up through my core, "I'm going to be balls deep inside you, fucking you so hard you won't remember what your name is."
He crushed his lips to mine and stole a wet, loud kiss. He peeled away, sucking hard at my lower lip. His dark eyes penetrated mine.
"Well…" I exhaled in a long breath, my chest heaving already. "You better get started then."
"Fuck…"
Christian dropped his body onto mine, pressing his whole weight down on me. His naked torso panted hard, meshed with my sweaty, limp frame.
"Fuck…"
"Fuck," I nodded, finding it hard to make a sound of my own. My mouth is bitterly dry from screaming. He provoked a noise from me that I've only ever heard from cats. It's like my body wasn't my own, working to meet his touch.
Christian's head fell onto my chest, his lips starting to spread kisses across my collarbones, neck and breasts. My legs are still wrapped around the back of him, my heels hooked around his knees, keeping him to me. I held him close, wanting his thrusts to quicken, harden.
We began on the couch, tearing at each other's clothes, before falling to the floor. He laid me down underneath him and pressed his forearms into my sides, propping his chest up as he pumped his thick erection into me. His hunger was contagious.
"You're incredible," he kissed his way to my lips, dipping his tongue into my mouth. He tasted salty. "Fucking incredible."
I swallowed and nodded against him. He slowly worked his hand down the length of my chest, heading south back towards my sex. His thumb circled my throbbing point, his erection stirring inside me, ready for another bout of passion.
I shivered as he sent another spasm through my pelvis.
"I could spend all night inside you," he groaned, deep, rocking his hips into mine.
"Oh god…" I arched my neck. His tongue danced across my flesh, his mouth nuzzling into my shoulder. "Huh?"
His movements stuttered and broke off. He cursed under his breath and turned his head off, to look behind him. I frowned and searched his face. I steadied my breaths and heard the sound of a cell phone blaring. It was persistent and demanded to be answered.
"I'll turn it off," he grunted as he lifted onto his hands, pushing his body off mine. He got to his knees and stretched across the couch, to grab his cell phone.
The ringing started again, after a moment's pause. He swiped the screen and grimaced.
"What is it?" I asked, sitting up. I tried not to stare at his bobbing erection, but I couldn't stop. It's amazing how that can fit –
"Not my phone," he turned the blank screen towards me. "Must be yours," he shook his head and looked around us, at the mesh of clothing scattered all around.
"Oh," I jolted forward and searched for my jeans. I checked all the pockets before locating my cell, but the call ended before I could answer it.
Kate.
"Shit," I hissed.
"Who is it?"
"Erm, my roommate," I muttered.
"What does she want?"
"I don't know, I'll need to call her back."
I curled my legs up towards my chest, to cover myself, and dialled Kate's number.
"Why? Call her later," he shrugged at me. He lifted himself up and sat on the end of the couch.
I shoved my phone against my ear and listened to the dialling tone.
"Kate," I snapped her name before she could greet me. "What's up?"
"Hello to you, too," she snorted. "I was just wondering when you're coming home."
"Um, I don't know yet. Soon."
"Oh right…"
"Why, is something wrong?" my spine stiffened. "Kate?"
"I just need some Advil," she mumbled down the phone, her voice groggy. "And some more tampons and stuff. I'm all out and cramping like a bitch."
"I have some stuff my bedroom," I whispered, glancing up at Christian. He stared at me, his elbows dropping onto his knees. "Bottom drawer. You know where I keep everything."
"You're out too. I've been using your stock," she admitted. "Sorry!"
I sighed and rubbed at my forehead. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Can't you go to the store?"
"You're already out," she whined. "Can you go the store on your way home?"
I pursed my lips.
"You are coming home tonight, aren't you?" she asked with confusion in her voice.
"Yeah, course I am," I nodded. "I'll go to the store on my way back. I won't be much longer."
"Thank you," she squeaked. I could hear her smile. "I'm going to take a bath and cry."
"There are some heat pads in the bathroom cabinet –"
"Fuck heat pads," she grunted. "I need someone to come remove my uterus."
"I'll make some calls," I rolled my eyes. "See you later. Love you."
"Well I'm glad someone does," she laughed and hung up the call.
I pulled my cell down and cleared the screen, before locking and throwing it down onto the rug.
"What's wrong?" Christian prompted, lifting my eyes up from the cream carpet.
"My roommate's not feeling great," I sighed. "She needs to me get some stuff for her on my way home."
"You're going home?" he seemed surprised at my explanation. I nodded. "What, now?"
"Soon," I shrugged.
"I'll send someone to drop off whatever it is she needs," his voice hardened, growing aggravated. I shook my head, dismissing the idea.
"I can't stay tonight."
He huffed back at me.
"Kate flipped out the last time," I defended my choice. "And she needs me home tonight."
"Wow, I didn't realise she's your keeper," he quipped. "Do you need her permission to leave the apartment or…?"
"Don't be like that," I frowned at him. "She's already suspicious. I don't want to give her any reason to think something's going on."
"Suspicious of what?"
I swept my fringe away from my forehead and pinched the bridge of my nose. "No one can know about us," I reminded him. "You've told me often enough. She already knows I'm seeing someone. She knows I've slept with someone and that's why I didn't come home after my shift last Thursday."
"So?" he frowned. "You're an adult."
"It's not that simple," I sighed. "She's my best friend. We tell each other everything… well, we used to. She knows I'm keeping something from her. She's smart, Christian. It won't take long before she puts two and two together, and works out that you're my mystery man."
He threw his head back and snorted. "Ana, I'm sure your friend is smart but she can't be that smart," he arched his brow. "Out of all the men in Seattle, you really think she's going to pluck my name out of thin air?"
"I've already spoken about you," I admitted quietly, hoping for a moment that he wouldn't hear. But he did. He jerked his head to me and narrowed his grey gaze. His chest puffed up. "When my car broke down, I told her you were the one who helped me… and that you were being a bit…"
"A bit, what?"
"That you were being off with me," I continued. "That you were interested in me one minute and then the next you would brush me off."
"For fucks sake…" he hung his head low, shaking it slowly from side to side.
"I said you were my boss's friend," I added quickly. "Nothing more. I haven't mentioned you since, and neither has she."
"Well if ever there's a consolation," he tutted and began rubbing the back of his neck.
"She told me to steer clear of you," I told him. "And as far as she's concerned, I have."
"She is smart then," he said to himself, in a disgruntled tone.
I pushed up onto my knees and grabbed the first item of my clothing that I could find. I used it as a blanket, to shield my modesty.
"Christian, I promised you that I wouldn't tell anyone about your involvement with the club, or about us. I meant what I said," I tried to reassure him but I sensed it was failing. I couldn't fathom whether he was pissed off because I'm leaving or because there's a chance Kate could work this one out. I settled on both. "I'm not going to say anything else. I'll sign the NDA."
He let go of a heavy breath. "It's never been this complicated…"
"I think I should go," I muttered and quickly started to gather my clothes.
"Do you want to go?"
"No. But I have to." I hesitated before looking up at him. "I have to go home now."
"Fine," he stood up and picked his boxers from the floor, yanking them onto his legs. "I'll call Taylor. He'll take you home."
"He didn't come in with me –"
"He can drive you home," he continued. "I've been drinking, otherwise I'd have done it myself."
"Thank you for driving me home," I glanced into the rear view mirror, hoping to catch Taylor's eye. He looked back at me after a beat, his eyes soft but tired. He gave me a single nod. "I'm sorry if you had other plans."
"It's no trouble, Miss Steele," he dismissed, politely. "Would you like me to walk you to the door?"
"No, that's not necessary but thank you for the offer." I smiled and collected the large brown envelope I stuffed the contract back into before I left Christian's apartment. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Miss Steele," Taylor nodded.
I asked Taylor to drop me off a street away from my apartment. I didn't want to be in view of the windows, just in case Kate was on the lookout for me. I texted her once we'd made our pit stop at the nearest convenience store. Kicking up gravel as I walked, I yanked my keys from my pocket and unlocked the door to the building. I looked over my shoulder, to where Taylor and the SUV are still sitting. I waved my hand and he drove off.
The apartment was still and in darkness as I entered, with just a crack of light emitting from under Kate's bedroom door. I continued straight through to her room, rattling my knuckles three times before entering.
"You awake?" I kept my voice low until I saw her mint-green eyes greet me. I walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge, pushing aside one of her many pillows. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," she groaned, trying to lift herself up. Her blonde hair looks dishevelled, piled up into a bun on the top of her head, and her eyes are red-rimmed. She's been crying.
"It's not just period pain, is it?" I asked, even though I knew the answer already. She shook her head. "It's his loss," I rubbed the back of her hand, trying to soothe her. She's in her breakup pyjamas, which also double as her sickness PJs.
"Thank you for going to the store for me," she smiled, reaching out for the bag. She smiled as she found the Hershey's bar I bought for her. "You're amazing… Just take what I owe you from my purse."
"It's on me," I shook my head. "It's the least I can do."
She didn't kick up a fight. She turned her hand over and gave my fingers a firm squeeze. "How was your dinner?"
"It was nice," I smiled. "I ate my own body eat in cheese."
Kate laughed. Her gaze slowly dropped to the envelope I'd placed down beside me. "What's with the envelope?"
"Oh, um…" I snatched it away and held it close to me. "It's just my contract for work. My probation's almost over and –"
"Geez, you've been working there that long already?" her mouth widened. "How do you feel about staying on?"
"I'm looking for something else," I told her. "So how was your night?"
"Well, I finished Pretty Little Liars," she perked up, some colour returning to her cheeks. "My mom called. She's finalised our trip to Barbados. We leave on the twenty-sixth."
Kate and her family go on vacation twice a year. By her own admission it's to 'keep the peace and regroup'. Just her, her brother, and their parents. For the past year, each trip has been to Barbados, and each time they've asked me to join them. And each time I've declined their offer. I didn't want to be the odd one out, even though Kate's family have always been so welcoming to me, treating me like one of their own.
"You sure you don't want to come?" Kate puffed out her bottom lip. "We really want you to come."
"I can't get the time off work," I shook my head, giving my latest excuse.
"If you change your mind, we can get you a ticket on our flight," she tried to persuade me. "You'll have to come away with us eventually. Even if we have to gag you first!"
"Maybe we could have a girl's vacation? Just you and me?" I suggested. "A long weekend?"
"You know, I'd really love that," she grinned back at me. "We could go to Cabo!"
"I'll research Cabo, you get some sleep," I laughed and rose from her bed. I smoothed her covers out and tucked her in. "You'll feel better tomorrow."
"What if my uterus explodes and I bleed to death?"
"If you die, does that mean I can raid your closet?" I winked and knocked off her light on my way out of her room. "Night."
"Night, Ana," Kate smiled and lowered herself under her comforter. "Love you."
"Love you, too."
I closed her door and padded on through to my bedroom. I dumped my things on my bed and headed for the bathroom. There, I stripped off my clothes for the second time this evening, and changed into an oversized tank and some sweats.
My mind wandered to Christian as I went about washing my face and brushing my teeth. I couldn't shift the disappointment I saw on him. He'd grabbed my hand just before I stepped into the elevator, linking his fingers with mine before dropping his hand back down to his side.
He wanted me to stay with him. I wanted to stay with him.
I checked everything was switched off before locking myself away in my bedroom. I collapsed onto my bed and shoved everything onto the floor, except my iPhone and the contract. I cleared a space in my top drawer for the contract, knowing I need to keep it stay and away from immediate view. I kept my phone in hand and checked for any new messages.
Nothing. Not even from my mother.
I found the thread of conversations I'd had with Christian and started typing out a new message to him. I took my time with it, reading it through twice before hitting 'send'.
I wish we could have ended things on a better note tonight. I had a good time, considering. Thank you for dinner. I wanted to stay with you but I can't lie to Kate. If I'd stayed, she would have pressed me for more info. So the best I can do is not give her any ammunition. I will read the contract and check out the rest of the links. I hope you have a good night. Ana x
I didn't expect a reply. But it came through within minutes.
Tonight didn't go how I planned it to be. I'm sorry if I was an ass. If you have any questions, just let me know. I'll answer them as best I can. Sleep well. C x
I kept the conversation going, my fingers typing too fast for my brain.
I will. I promise. (What were your plans for tonight then? I'm curious.) A x
Less tense, more sex. Find out why you ignored me and persuade you to spend the night with me. Possibly the weekend. I wish you could have stayed. I liked having you in my bed last week. It was different. C x
Good different? A x
Refreshingly good and different. C x
But submissives don't enter your bedroom without permission… and they certainly don't share your bed. A x
It turns out some rules were made to be broken. C x
I couldn't stop the all-teeth-showing grin from spreading over my lips. I harnessed a giggle as I re-read his message.
I bit down on my lip.
What are you doing right now? A x
Thinking of you. Thinking of how empty my bed is. You? C x
Lying in my bed, wishing you were here. Your bed is much comfier, though. (And if I'm being honest, I'm thinking about how I would've liked to have had more sex with you. You're very good at it, Mr Grey. Not that I have anyone to compare you to…) A x
Ten minutes went by and there was no reply from him. After fifteen minutes, I conceded that he'd probably fallen asleep or being distracted by something more important. I locked my iPhone and placed it down on my bedside table. I grabbed my copy of Jane Eyre from behind it and lost myself to Mr Rochester.
Two chapters to the end of the story and I was denied the pleasure of finishing the novel. My phone buzzed loudly. I answered the incoming call without even checking the ID first.
"Hello?" I grumbled, trying to keep my voice down. Kate is fast asleep. I can hear her rhythmic, heavy breaths through the walls.
"Come to the door."
"Huh?" I pulled the phone away and checked the screen. My eyes widened and I bolted upright, kicking at my comforter. "Christian? What are you -?"
"Come to the door. Now." He ordered.
"What door?" I hissed as I jumped from my bed and opened my bedroom door. I half expected him to be standing on the other side.
"The door to your apartment," he huffed back at me, impatient now.
I crept through the apartment and ended his call, leaving my phone on the kitchen counter while I unlocked the door. My hands were shaking as I fiddled with the keys, and my breath was all but stolen as I opened the door to see him propped up against the frame.
"What are you doing here?" I shook my head.
He silenced me, pushing forward and cupping my jaw between his hands. He forced his lips to mine, smothering them in an instant.
"Which room?" he whispered. My brows furrowed. "Which bedroom is yours?"
I pointed lazily behind me, to my room on the left. He eased me backwards, to allow himself into the apartment. He locked the door and returned my keys to the designated bowl by the door, before grabbing my hands and escorting me back to my bedroom.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him again, once we were inside my room, behind the closed door.
He tugged off his jacket and threw it on the floor. He sauntered to me and pinned me against my door, his hips grinding into mine. His hands rested on my waist.
"You said you wished I was here," he shrugged, his eyes focusing on my lips. His fingers dipped under my tank top. "So here I am…"
"But…"
"I've acted like a dick tonight," he shushed me. "So I'm here to make it up to you… To end the night how we both wanted it to."
My knees started to buckle as he worked his way up to my braless chest. He teased my nipples into hardened points.
"My roommate," I gulped, shooting a glance to the wall I share with Kate.
He shook his head and pressed his weight into me. He lowered his head and rested it against mine.
"I'll be gone before she wakes up," he promised. "She won't even know I was here."
"She could hear…"
"Then we'll just have to work at keeping you quiet, baby…"
