Chapter Twenty – Breakthrough
Author's Note: Thank you all for being so patient. Hopefully, my computer woes are now over which means a LOT more updates.
Christian's POV
"No."
"What's wrong with this one?" Anastasia lifts her mug and presses her lips against the rim, blowing gently before taking a sip. Her foot is bouncing restlessly as she drums her three fingers across the cool granite. "It's right near the water, just like you wanted."
"No, that's what you wanted. I said I'd be happy with anything."
"Well, that was a lie clearly. You're not happy with this…" I wave my hand at the open laptop before flopping back in the stool, scrubbing a hand across my face.
"I don't hate it; I just…don't love it." She releases a breathy sigh. "It isn't big enough."
"Big enough?" I scoff. "3 bedrooms and 3 baths? What are you picturing exactly, a fucking castle?"
She rolls her eyes and digs her foot into my shin, making me grunt. I grab her hand in response, curling my fingers around her wrist before bending it back slightly. "Ow. Shit, Christian." Her brows furrow as she pulls back, pursing her lips when she clocks my snide smirk.
"Don't get me wrong, I love that you're thinking big. Besides, you're right. This place is a fucking hole."
"It's hardly a hole." She giggles, reaching for the laptop and twisting the screen so she can see better. "It's beautiful actually. I just envision something bigger for us."
We've been sitting here like this for the past forty-minutes, both in sweats with enough coffee to keep us charged for the next week. Erica, our real estate agent emailed a list of properties over last night and by the time we'd both finished work, the suspense was killing us. Thankfully, she'd listened to everything I had said, taking note of our specific requirements before narrowing the shortlist down to a strong five. So far, we're only three properties in.
"What's on your mind?" I gently squeeze her hand.
"Huh?"
"You looked like you were about to say something else."
She sighs and rubs the corner of her eye, pushing the screen away from her before rising to make a fresh pot of coffee. Christ, anymore of that and I'll be climbing the damn walls. "I'm trying to think of the long run, that's all. Right now, three bedrooms is all we need, but what about when we have kids? I don't want to move again. Hell, I want to stay put for as long as possible."
I fucking love that she's thinking about our future, and I love that she hasn't gone off the thought of children altogether even more. After crashing Elliot's apartment two nights ago, reality hit home. We've both agreed that we're taking this whole baby thing way too fucking seriously. I admitted to pushing her into this before she was ready, and Ana confessed to putting herself under so much unnecessary pressure. Although our desire to start a family hasn't dwindled in the slightest, we're determined to do it the healthy way. We're no longer trying as such, we're just a married couple who love each other endlessly. A married couple who happen to have a lot of hot, passionate sex, and if a baby happens; then it's a fucking win-win situation.
"I totally agree, baby. Did you seriously think I'd b happy with living in that hole?"
"Oh my god, it's not a hole!" She swats the side of my head with a laugh, brushing her lips against my cheek. My hand tangles into her hair, determined to keep her close to me but she manages to break free regardless. I'm pouting as she flops back down in the stool beside me. "Hey, this one looks interesting. Click on it."
"I've already viewed this one, you won't like it." I tell her, scrolling past the property with a panoramic view on Mutiny Bay. It's incredible in it's own right. 4 bedrooms completed with a private den and an elevator whisking guests to the third floor where a jaw-dropping view of the ship canal and Olympic Mountains awaits. It's stunning, but I don't picture living there with my wife. It just doesn't give me those warm, tingly butterflies. The ones I know I should get whilst looking at it.
"What? You've been looking at places without me?" She looks and sounds horrified.
"I don't mean I've looked at it lately. It was a while ago now."
"Why were you even looking? Have you wanted to move before now?"
"I didn't want to move as such," I reach across the island for my empty cup. "I guess I was just bored. I wanted something new and fresh to play with, a second property I suppose."
Bending her elbow, Ana rests her chin on her open palm as a smirk kisses the corner of her mouth. "Most people buy paint when they're bored. You know, freshen a place up a bit. They don't go out and throw two-million dollars at a house they don't even need. You're something else, Grey."
"2.5 million actually," I flash my teeth. "And I'm not most people, baby. Surely you know that by now?"
"Okay, okay," She waves her hand in the air and shuffles her ass in the seat. "Moving on then."
I continue scrolling as requested; placing my hand on my wife's thigh as I do so like it's the most natural thing in the world. Which it fucking is. How can something so normal be so comforting? She isn't wearing any make-up, her hair is piled into a messy bun at the top of her head and she's wearing sweatpants that most men would turn their noses up at. Not fucking me, though. She's the most beautiful woman in the world. A siren, even. I couldn't resist her if I tried. A small gasp drags me back to the here and now, startling me when my hand is suddenly swatted away from the device.
"Oh my god," She whispers in awe. "Christian…."
"What? What is it?" I jump up and move to stand behind her, she doesn't look like she'll hand that damn laptop back to me anytime soon so I take matters into my own hands.
"Click on it."
"I am doing!" She squeals, her beautiful eyes dancing with excitement. I don't give a fuck what she's looking at, if it makes her this happy, then I'm buying it tonight.
A gated custom built home overlooking Puget Sound. 5 bedrooms, 5 baths. Travertine and Brazilian cherry floors, granite countertops and a soaring ceiling. That's just the start. It's breathtaking, at least it looks breathtaking. I'm already arranging a date and a time to view it in my head, my hand reaching for the phone tucked in the back pocket of my sweats so I can call Taylor to set it up. Anastasia stops me, her fingers curling around my wrist without tearing her eyes away from the screen.
"Look at it, Christian. Look how perfect it is."
"You like it?"
"Like it? I love it," Her shoulders sag slightly, almost like an immense pressure has been lifted. "We definitely saved the best til' last."
"That's settled then," I tell her confidently. "I'll arrange with Erica now."
"Now? Christian it's late, leave it until the morning."
Ana being Ana, she's thinking of others. But I can see the desperation in her eyes. If she could, she'd be in a car and driving to that house as we speak. So would I come to think of it. Instead, we sit together for a further fifteen minutes. My wife scrolls through the page and reads through the details with fine precision, her grin widening as she inspects each picture. Her excitement is infectious. If I knew it would make her this happy, I would've suggested moving months ago.
Getting out of Escala will be the best thing to ever happen to us. No ghosts, no reminders of ex-flings lurking around every corner. Plus, I won't be reminded of painful memories every time I walk into that fucking bathroom, remembering how I'd bathed my broken and wounded girlfriend; nursing her back to health after she almost lost her life. I can barely even think about that without my stomach roiling and my chest burning. Hands down, that was the single most terrifying moment of my entire life. It wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs for Ana, either.
"Do you want to look at any others?"
"Why would we? This is amazing." Her eyes widen as she leans further into the screen. "I don't want to come across as to eager, but…"
"But you're eager?"
"Oh my god, yes!" I stroke the back of her neck with a laugh, brushing my lips against the crown of her head. Fuck, she smells so fucking good. "I don't think I've ever been this excited."
"What about our wedding?" I cock an eyebrow. "Didn't you get excited over that?"
Of course I did. But that was a different excitement, it was all about one day. This…this is a future. Our future. God, I'm getting butterflies just thinking about it." I wordlessly haul my wife out of her chair, clutching her face between my hands before crushing our mouths together. I kiss her like it's the last time, like I'll never breathe her air again. My blood boils and my cock strains against my sweats, it's borderline fucking painful.
"Whoa…"
"Say that again," I breathe, still holding her beautiful face.
"Say what?" She replies in a daze. "Huh?"
"Tell me what we'll have together,"
A slow smile spreads across her face. Her lips are red and swollen, bruised from the force of our kiss and fuck if she isn't the most incredible creature I've ever laid eyes on. "A future. We'll have a life together."
"A life," I repeat like an idiot. It's like I need the conformation, I need to hear her say it and I have no fucking idea why. I knew we'd spend the rest of our lives together the second I proposed. Hell, I knew the second I met her. But for some reason unbeknown to me, I need to hear her say it. I fucking need it. "You and me?"
"Always."
The word seeps from her lips like liquid silk, her eyes twinkling with something so beautiful; it's all I can do not to combust right here on the spot. Before I can even register what I'm doing, I pin her against the counter and hook her leg around my waist. She's breathless as I tug her pants down and when I thrust my cock into her hot folds she damn near passes out. Someone was more ready than I thought. The sounds of our sex float through the air. Breathy gasps and slapping skin. She's so wet, I can practically hear my dick gliding in and out of her. Heaven. Fucking heaven.
I paw at her tits and suck on her neck, sinking my teeth into her heated skin. This is primal at it's best. It's us at our best. Her ass clenches under my hands as she constricts around me like a vault, milking my cock for all it's worth. I think that was the quickest I've ever got her off. How long was I fucking her for? Two minutes? Three? Fuck, I don't even know. But it was fucking hot.
"Well," Ana breathes once I reluctantly release her, cum dripping down her thigh as she drops her leg to the floor. "Who knew domesticity turned you on so much."
The shrill of a cell phone blaring through the air rips me out of my sleep. My very deep sleep. I gently pull my arm away from my wife, her body stirring slightly but other than that, she doesn't move a muscle. I quickly identify the fucking phone as mine, vibrating almost angrily on the top of my night stand. With sore eyes and a head that can't quite catch up, I drag my thumb across the screen and accept the call.
"Hello," I croak. Clearing my throat with a cough, I try again. "Hello."
"Shit, were you sleeping?" Elliot. Fucking Elliot. Swinging my legs out of bed, I glance over my shoulder at my sleeping wife before rising to my feet with shaky legs. Man, I must have been really out of it. The hallway is dark and quiet, silent even. But then again, it is one in the fucking morning.
"That is what people usually do at night, Elliot. What do you want?"
"Sorry, my bad." He doesn't sound sorry at all. If anything, I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I need your fucking help."
I flick the kitchen light on and rest my weight against the counter, I'm seriously struggling here. I contemplate making a coffee, but that will wake me up for sure and I don't plan on staying on this phone for long. "Is anyone dying?"
"What? No."
"Dead?"
"No, what the hell-"
"Then why the fuck are you calling me? Couldn't you have waited another six hours?"
"You're the only weird ass who wakes up before dawn on a Saturday. I don't fucking think so." He snorts.
Rubbing a palm across my eye, I push myself off the counter and stride towards the window with tired limbs. "Just fucking spit it out so I can go the fuck back to sleep."
Three seconds later, he tells me the reason behind his desperate phone call.
"Excuse me?" I deadpan.
"Keep the fuck up, I've just told you! It's Kate's fucking birthday and I've fucking forgot!" Is he always this aggressive with the profanities or am I just still half asleep? "She will rip my goddamn balls off for this, Christian. With her teeth. Slowly."
I'm struggling to see how any of this is my concern, especially at this stupid hour, but I decide to give him what he came for. Help. "When is it?"
"You don't know either?"
"She isn't my girlfriend, dumb ass. Quit trying to make yourself feel better about it."
"Next Tuesday," He grumbles.
"Why the fuck are you panicking over something that's three days away? That's plenty of time to get your shit together."
"Have you met my woman? Christian, this is her first birthday as my…well, you know. All the others don't count; I never even bothered with her on her birthday." Wow. I shake my head and roll my eyes, pressing a palm against the window as I lean on it. "If I don't get this right, she'll never forgive me."
"Well, you've already failed her by forgetting, Ell. How bad can it get?"
"Don't remind me." I hear him slapping a hand over his face. "She was telling me all about this chick she caught fucking some asshole she dated and Ana whipped the shit out of her, at her birthday party. I don't even know why she told me, the girls must have been reminiscing but then it fucking hit me and I swear to God I almost stopped breathing, Christian. Thank fuck she had her back to me otherwise she would have caught on instantly. Jesus, I'm going to hell."
I'm frowning as he rambles on. I vaguely get the gist of what he's trying to tell me, but the image of Ana 'whipping the shit' out of some tramp has my mind somewhat engaged. "I still don't know what I'm supposed to do about it? It's not like it's her birthday tomorrow. You're acting like a pussy."
"Fuck you. I just thought you might have an idea that's all, you're flashy with this kind of shit."
"Hardly," I scoff. "Only for Ana."
"That's what I meant. Christ, bro, throw me a fucking bone. I'm dying here."
"I don't know," I whisper shout. "Bake her a fucking cake. Buy her some lingerie, it isn't that damn difficult, Elliot. I don't get why you're making such a big deal out of it. You remembered in the end didn't you? Jesus."
"Fat lot of help you've been."
I can hear the pout in his voice before he hangs up with a vicious stab of the thumb. Sometimes, I really do worry about him. He calls me in the middle of the night, breathing down the phone like the apartment is on fire all for that. Something so…trivial. I get that birthdays and shit mean a great deal to women like Kate, they expect all the fuss and the glitz and if they don't get it…well, then there would be hell to pay. But he still needs to grow some balls, if he can't remember her fucking birthday then what hope do they seriously have? This is just something else telling me that Elliot isn't ready for commitment, as much as he thinks he wants it, he can't quite seem to get there.
"What are you doing?" I spin on the spot, my wife's sleepy voice drifting through the air. She stands in the middle of the great room wearing nothing but my shirt. Her hair is all mussed up and when she covers her mouth to stifle a yawn I want nothing more than to eat her up. She's so fucking adorable.
"Were you on the phone?"
"Elliot," I offer as an explanation, striding towards her with renewed purpose before taking her in my arms. "Back to bed."
"I can walk you know?" She grumbles quietly, but I'm smiling when she nuzzles her nose into the crook of my neck behind another yawn. "Such a caveman."
"That I am, baby." Laying her down, I climb into bed beside her and prop myself up on my elbow, staring down at my girl as she closes her eyes and allows sleep to creep in once more. My fingers automatically thread into her hair, brushing through each silky lock and never wanting to let go. "That I am."
Anastasia's POV
"I thought Christian was joining us?"
"He's needed at the office," I sigh. "Well, I say he's needed, no-one else is there other than Ros."
"He works too hard," Dad breathes, scratching a spot just below his ear. "You need to tell him that."
"Don't think I haven't tried." Pursing his lips, he pushes his chair out slightly and drags his gaze across the room.
"Is she new? I don't think I've seen her before."
I crane my neck and glance over my shoulder, spotting my brand spanking new CPO at a table not all that far away from ours. She's trying to blend in, dressed in jeans and a casual jacket but to me she still sticks out like a sore thumb. But maybe that's just because I know she's watching my every move, if I didn't like her so much it would piss me off. "Julia." I nod. "Don't worry, she won't bother us."
Turning my attention back to Ray, I lean forward and rest my face on my palm before quickly pulling away again before he can gripe on about elbows on the table. He would've been quite happy hanging around the apartment, but I only get him for two days and as silly as it sounds, I don't want to share him with anyone else. Even if it is just with Gayle and Sawyer. Not only that, but I've been craving feta cheese for the best part of the morning and we're all out.
"If she's protecting my daughter, then she can bother us all she wants."
"You sound just like Christian." I whine.
"Good. I'm pleased the boy is on my wave length." He quickly scans the menu in front of him, pretending to mull over the options when I already know what he'll choose. And it won't be a grilled chicken salad. Or anything remotely healthy for that matter. "You look good, baby girl. Young."
"Young?" I snort. "I am young, Dad."
"I know that, I just mean you look young today. Your clothes and that." I quickly glance down at my dark jeans and ivory blouse teamed with a thick camel coloured scarf draped around my neck. Instead of my usual killer heels, I've opted for a pair of comfy black flats while keeping accessories to a minimum. I guess I do look more my twenty-four years rather than a billionaire's wife. Speaking of, that's still something I'm trying to get used to. "I just forget how young you actually are sometimes, what with you being all old and married now."
"I know me too." I smile. "A lot has changed."
Dad looks at me for a good few minutes, his eyes glinting with affection like they always do when we're together. But for some reason, there's something else there, something more wistful. It makes my chest clench. "It's just sometimes, I wonder where the all the years have gone, you know? It still only feels like five minutes since you were that toothless little gremlin, running around my feet and nipping at my ankles."
"You make me sound like a dog." I grin.
"Come to think of it, you did resemble a little rotweiler." A waiter serves our drinks, quickly setting two waters down on the table before disappearing once more, but not before throwing me a wink and a salacious smirk. Cocky little…
"While we're taking a trip down memory lane," I start tentatively, taking a much needed sip of my water. "There's something I wanted to talk about."
"Sounds ominous," Dad's head snaps up, his eyes widening. "Are you pregnant?"
"What? No! Well, not yet anyway." I laugh at his almost petrified reaction, no doubt picturing his one and only daughter knocked up and having a child of her own. "Dad, I'm married now. You know it's only a matter of time."
"Okay, okay." He closes his eyes and groans, flicking his wrist through the air. "Just don't drop that bomb while I'm still picturing you as a baby in my head."
"Sorry," I shoot him an unapologetic smirk. "But, no, that's not it. Although, I don't think you'll like this much better."
"Okay, now I'm listening."
"You can say no if you hate the idea, honestly you won't offend me…it's just, shit how can I put this. It worked for me, you know? At first I didn't think it would, Christian practically carried me to that first session but it got easier after that, Dr. West is excellent and I really did feel comfortable-"
"Annie," Ray cuts in, reaching for my hand and pulling it away from my hair as I anxiously tug at my loose locks. "You're rambling. Slow down and talk to me."
Taking a deep breath, I push the words out of my throat, swallowing the tennis ball sized lump in the process. "I think we should have a joint therapy session together. Just you and me."
"Therapy? Why on earth would we need therapy?" He laughs, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Anastasia?"
Oh shit. Full name. I know I've hit a nerve when he calls me Anastasia. "It's just…we've never really hashed out what happened. You know, with Morton?"
At the mention of that monster's name, my dad tenses up, wrenching his hand away from mine and tucking them in his lap. My chest tightens and my stomach roils. This is what happens every time I bring it up, he can talk about it all he wants, but when I initiate the subject…
"Why? Why are you thinking about that? Why are you thinking about him?"
"I'm not really," I swallow audibly. "But after your speech at the wedding, I -"
"I know I shouldn't have done that," He growls, anger and regret lacing his tone. "That wasn't even part of my original speech. I just…got carried away. Emotions running high and all that."
"It was beautiful," I tell him. "It just got me thinking, I don't think we've ever dealt with what happened have we? Just you and me?" He bows his head, his fingertip tracing the abandoned menu in front of him without breathing a word. "We've always been close, and although we talk about what happened…I've never asked how it affected you?"
"God, baby, you don't need to. You've never needed to. I only ever wanted you to concentrate on yourself."
"But I -"
"But what? You were a fifteen-year old kid. You were traumatised. Why the hell would you worry about me?"
"Because you're my dad," I whisper, mostly to myself but I know he heard me. "You rescued me from that…hell hole. You took me away from it all, but more than that, you heard me cry and you watched me distance myself from the world. How did you do it?"
"Do you really need to ask me that?" Cocking his head to the side, he closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. I thought only Christian did that when he was exasperated. "You're my daughter, Annie. My only daughter. I didn't even need to think twice about taking you away and bringing you back home, I wanted you with me. As for everything else, my one and only priority was getting you better. Getting you healed again. I don't like you asking me things like that."
"I'm sorry," I apologise quickly. "I just…I never saw you cry. Did you cry?"
Covering his mouth with his hand, he closes his eyes and pushes his chair away from the table slightly. He looks ready to bolt, and for a moment I think he'll do just that, but he doesn't. He just folds his arms across his chest and looks at anything but me. "Of course I did. Seeing you like that…it killed me. I can't even begin to tell you how much it tore me up inside, walking into that hospital and seeing you laid up all broken. It's every parent's worse nightmare, Ana."
"I couldn't look at your mother, Jen left, and apart from the guys at work it was just you and me. Like it's always been. I didn't want anyone else, and I certainly didn't need to confide in anyone." He pauses to take a breath, bracing his forearms against the table. "You asked me if I cried? I absolutely did, I just always made sure you didn't hear me. When you were sleeping, mainly."
A thick, salty tear rolls down my cheek and hits my lips. The image of my father, my strong and taciturn father crying on his own just so he didn't upset me has my heart breaking all over again. If we weren't in a public place, I know I'd be bawling like a baby. No doubt about it.
"I hate him for that." I choke through a sob. "I hate him for breaking you like that."
"Baby," Dad breathes, reaching for my hand once more and this time, he doesn't let it go. "Hate doesn't even begin to scratch the surface when it comes to that depraved piece of shit. I want nothing more than to watch him burn in hell for what he did to you. You being the operative word, I don't want you worrying about how it affected me."
"But this is why I want to do this," I swipe a hand across my nose, damp with tears. "If you don't want to see her with me, then you can go on your own. I just want you to get it all out there, dad. You've been bottling this up for ten years."
"So have you," He cuts in sharply. "Ana, this was your horrifying ordeal. You were the one who had to go through that. All the nightmares and the panic attacks, they were all yours."
"But I've dealt with it. I have Christian and Kate. Christian knows everything, I may not have wanted to tell him at first but it was the best thing I ever did. I can't tell you how good it felt to just…get it all out there once and for all. Who have you spoken to, dad?"
"I don't need-"
"Anyone, yeah you've said." I bite back, a little more snappy than I wanted. "I'm tired of you locking yourself away like this. You've been alone for ten years, and I don't mean women either. I'm not stupid, I know you've…dabbled over the years when you didn't think I was looking." I bite my lip to stifle a giggle when he blushes, awkwardly clearing his throat. He looks like a teenager getting caught out by his parents, talk about role reversal. "I mean I know you've never dated, not properly anyway and I don't know why you felt the need to keep them all from me but that's besides the point. I just want you to have someone, that's all. Even if it is just a shrink."
Silence looms over us for what feels like hours, both sat with folded arms and poker faces. This is where I get it from, the stubborn streak that just won't relent. We're both always so determined to win, to get the upper hand. I won't back down, and I know that Ray hates losing just as much as I do. It's quite comical really. "What's this chick's name? White?"
"West." I fight a jubilant grin. "Dr. West."
"You have her details?"
"She's on speed dial."
"While I don't like you having your therapist on damn speed dial, if it makes you happy, I'll let you call her."
"Then you'll meet her?"
"Yes," He sighs with an eye roll. "I'll meet her. I'll propose to her if it'll shut you up."
I bite the urge to clap my hands like a squealing school girl, opting for a triumphant smirk instead. I'm dying on the inside, joy rushing through me but I don't let it show. I'm too proud for shit like that. So, like a dutiful daughter, I quietly chew on my salad without another word. That doesn't stop Ray from grumbling through our entire lunch, though. More than anything, I feel relief. That conversation could have gone one of both ways, I'm just happy it didn't result in him storming out on me. That rarely happens, but when it does, it leaves me feeling weak and hollow.
I lock myself away in the nearest bathroom, leaving a message for Dr. West before dessert can even hit the table.
Walking into the great room to find my husband hunched over the coffee table, nose buried deep in a stack of files while tapping a pen against his chin; wearing a tee-shirt so tight and delicious has my thighs clenching together in anticipation. If my father wasn't standing beside me, I'd be climbing him like a tree. Then I'd be riding him like a horse.
No-one can rock a suit or a tuxedo like my man, but there's something so fucking sexy about seeing him so casual and relaxed. I live for those tight tees and snug sweat pants, the ones that hug his ass just so. Yeah, those ones. He looks so young and carefree, despite the monstrous pile of paperwork surrounding him. He's the Master of his own Universe, controlling his empire with the flick of a wrist and fuck if it doesn't turn me the hell on.
I approach him quietly, running my fingers through his beautiful hair as I move beside him. He couldn't have heard the elevator, or the sound of our feet in the foyer because he jumps as soon as my hand makes contact. That's when I notice the plugs in his ears, blasting something heavy and so un-Christian-like I can't help but giggle.
"Baby," He breathes, yanking the earplugs out and tossing his iPod down onto the couch before wrapping a strong arm around my waist. "I didn't hear you."
"I figured. What were you listening to?"
He smirks in response and taps the side of my nose as he stands to greet Ray, pulling him in for one of those one arm, slap on the back hugs. You know, the one that only men do. "Sorry I couldn't make lunch, things kinda' snowballed."
"What is all this?" I flick my hand towards the table, shrugging my purse off my shoulder.
"Don't ask," Christian breathes. "Just don't ask."
"Nothing too serious, I hope?" Ray's brow furrows, and I can tell he's doing that worrying thing in his head. He already thinks Christian works too hard, this is just proving him right. I hate that.
"Nothing I can't handle. Give me ten and I'll finish up for the night."
The night? I want him to finish up for the weekend, but I know that would be me pushing my luck. I'm lucky he's even here at all. Six months ago, he wouldn't have left Grey House for anything less than an impending death. This is progress.
"Do you want me to un-pack your things, Dad?"
"Don't worry, honey. I can live out of a duffel bag for the night."
"I don't mind,"
"I can do it, Annie."
"It would only take me-" I shut right up when he shoots me that glare, the one that says stop right now before I lose my shit. There's only two people who can silence me into submission, and they're both sitting in this room. I hold my hands up in surrender.
"How was lunch?" Christian asks distractedly, flicking another dossier open with narrowed eyes. I once again make a mental note to schedule him an eye exam. This is the second time I've seen him squint while he's reading. Now there's an image. Christian with glasses. Black glasses with thick rims. Jesus, I think I just came in my panties a little.
"Why we needed to venture out for a damn salad is beyond me," Dad grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. "I would've much preferred Sushi." We had Sushi last night," I murmur in my defence.
"Are you opposed to eating sushi more than once a week?"
Christian tries to fight the smirk, but he fails miserably. I jab him in the arm with my elbow but he doesn't even flinch. Instead, he hands me an email print out from Erica, dated this morning. I scan it quickly, trying my damn hardest to hide my grin when I read our allotted time slot to view the house. The dream house. We make eye contact, smiling at each other shyly but other than that, he doesn't say anything else. He knows I want to get a feel for the place before telling anyone, including my dad, and for that I could kiss him. Actually, I could do a lot more than kiss him, but prying eyes and all that.
Dad eventually leaves us to unpack, leaving me feeling smug for the second time today. He can't live out of a fucking duffel bag, even it is just for the night. I don't know who he was trying to kid by telling me he could. Pecking my husband on the cheek, I'm up and hot on Ray's toes as I head straight for our bedroom. I'm in the middle of unbuttoning my shirt when Christian closes the door and perches on the end of the bed with hands clasped in front of him, steely grey eyes trained solely on me.
"So you had a nice time today?"
"Course," I flash him a smile over my shoulder, draping my shirt over the ottoman at the foot of the bed. "I mentioned West, but I'll tell you everything later. I don't want dad to hear us."
He continues to watch me, dilated pupils raking over my every move. Something's off, I just don't know if I should pull him up on it or not. I shift to pull a black camisole over my head when deft fingers tug it out of my grasp, tossing it across the room.
"Anything you want to tell me?"
My breath hitches slightly and my back arches, standing in just a bra and panties. I feel exposed and vulnerable, but instead of freaking me out, it's turning me on. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Christian looks pissed, angry even, and I quickly think back to lunch. Has Julia told him something? Did she tell him I was crying? He hates it when I cry. "Like what?"
I'm thinking the worst, my brain is working over time and my breathing has accelerated significantly. But what comes out of his mouth next, his beautiful and wonderful mouth, has me biting down hard on my lip as a laugh threatens to erupt.
"Did that waiter hit on you?" My hand flies to my stomach, my chest starts to heave and I force my eyes shut. If I look at him for a second longer, I'll crack. "You think this is funny?"
"No…" I squeeze my lips together. "Jesus, Christian I thought something serious had happened."
"It did. A fucking waiter hit on you."
"Oh my god, no he didn't. Did Julia say otherwise?"
I shouldn't be surprised. That's what she's there for after all, my safety may be her number one priority, but that doesn't stop her from running to my husband with a detailed blow-by-blow. Traitor. "
She said he winked at you, and then she overheard the little cocksucker talking about you to another colleague. I won't even repeat what he said."
"Why, is it bad?"
"Bad?" He snarls, squaring his shoulders with intense eyes, his stare filled with both fire and ice. It's a heady combination. "It was beyond fucking disrespectful. If you weren't with Ray, I would've been there with my hands wrapped around his sorry ass fucking throat."
"Don't overreact," I mumble. "He barely looked my way, Christian. Julia, is exaggerating."
I side step him, but I don't get any further than the bed before he's behind me; gripping my hips like a vice. I don't know where I thought I was going, but I just know I needed to get away from that…stare. "Overreact? You do know who you're talking to, right?"
"Yes. That's why I think-"
A hand twists in my hair, fisting at the nape as he pushes me forward until my knees hit the edge of the bed. "Take your panties off."
"What?" I breathe, my heart pounding against my ribcage. "Christian-"
"Did I stutter?" He growls, his fingers tightening in my hair. "Take them off, before I fucking rip them in half."
Because I actually like these panties, and because I know full well he'll do it; my fingers hook into the flimsy lace, tugging them down my thighs the best I can without him relinquishing his hold on me. I expect him to dive straight in there, rubbing my clit vigorously or plunging his fingers inside, but he doesn't. Instead, he drags his hands down the length of my body, grazing my skin with the most delicate of touches.
"You're mine, Anastasia. I don't appreciate some cocky little frat boy disrespecting what's mine."
"He didn't-" I shut the hell up when one hand cups my entire sex, pressing his palm down onto my clit hard. "Fuck."
"Yes, fuck is right."
The next thing I know, I'm kneeling across the mattress with my hands braced in front of me, my husband behind me with his hard cock pressed against the curve of my ass. I'm so turned on, I doubt I'll even make it ten seconds before I'm falling apart around him. I don't know when he pulled his sweats down, and I don't know how I even ended up in this position, but I can't think of anything else besides having him inside me. "Christian," I pant. "Dad. My dad's here, he can't hear us having sex."
Cupping the nape of my neck, he pushes me lower onto the mattress and drags the thick comforter towards my face. "Bite that, and don't scream."
He doesn't take me gently, or with care. He fucks me rough and fast, he fucks me like he owns me. My toes curl as I dig them into the plush carpet, anything to grip onto so I don't fall flat on my face. My fingers are fisting the comforter, but I don't bring it to my mouth, I have no desire to. A scream threatens to escape but I bite it back with strength I didn't even know I had. This is primal at it's best. I fucking love it.
"You're mine, Ana." Christian growls, his fingers gripping my hips so hard I'm certain I'll bruise. "You're fucking mine."
That's all it takes for me to drag myself into a standing position. I curl my hand around his neck and fist his hair like he fisted mine. His thrusts don't waver for a second, if anything, he quickens his pace the instant our lips smash together in a lust driven collision. We're all tongues and teeth, clashing against each other like we can't bear to be apart for more than a second. I'm moaning like a wanton whore and Christian is panting into my mouth, we're both fighting to stay quiet. Ray is only a floor away, for all we know, he can hear everything we're doing.
The bed isn't banging against the wall, we aren't screaming out in ecstasy, but I can guaran-fucking-tee the sound of slapping flesh and heavy breathing is more than audible to anyone with their ear pressed against the door.
I'm falling apart under less than two minutes, if I wasn't so fucking turned on, I'd be embarrassed. Breath hitches in my throat and my lungs fight for air when I'm shoved back down on the bed, my cheek hitting the mattress. A surge of hot, white heat splashes against my back. He's coming on me. He's marking me.
A primal grunt tears from his throat, his fingers gripping the curve of my ass for what feels like the longest time. I'm struggling for breath; he literally fucked the wind out of me. I hear the rustle of his sweat pants as he tugs them back up, but I still can't move. My limbs feel like lead.
"You came on me," I pant as soon as I've regained my senses. I'm still lying flat on my stomach, but the sticky substance smearing my back and shoulders is more than present. "You haven't done that in so long."
"You're mine." I manage to roll over on my stomach, propping my head up onto my weak elbow. He's shrugging his shirt back over his head, and the fact that he can look so calm and collected after that pisses me off. I can barely keep my eyes open. "I just thought you needed a little reminder."
"You're insufferable, you know that?"
A wry grin spreads across his face and before I can stop myself, I'm grinning right back. I should be offended and hurt after his little performance; he marked me like I'm his property. I guess in many ways I am, I'm his wife and I understand his need to possess me. So instead of feeling pissed, I'm aroused to hell.
After dragging a damp washcloth across my back, he cups my face in his hands and brushes his lips against my nose, cheeks and forehead before giving into temptation and devouring my mouth. If I wasn't so spent, I'd be geared up and ready for round two. But as it so happens, I'm physically fucked.
"I love you."
"I love you, too. Even when you do fuck me like an animal."
"Be honest," He breathes against my lips, nuzzling my nose with his. "That's why you love me."
"Busted."
I frantically scan the hallway when I open the bedroom door and luckily, my dad isn't anywhere to be seen. My shoulders sag with relief. Christian laughs behind me and slaps my ass hard as he passes, throwing me a wink over his shoulder. Sexy bastard.
He isn't in the Great room or the kitchen, and I don't think I've even shown him the library so that only leaves the penthouse gym. I'm just praying to fuck he didn't come looking for Christian before heading down there.