Chapter 49: I left My Heart In San Francisco

Disclaimer: FSOG belongs to EL James

Damien Stark character belongs to J Kenner

A/N: Thank you for reading, following me, and reviewing. Enjoy

I left my heart in San Francisco

High on a hill it calls to me

To where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars

The morning fog may chill the air, I don't care

Tony Bennett

Luke shifts from one foot to the other, waiting for me. "Sorrry," I shrug. "I have lots of hair." I tuck the last strands under the Nike baseball hat completing the disguise. They kept it simple. The goal is to shield me from the hounding press, not attract their attention.

I give the cap one last adjustment, and hurrying out the door I accidentally graze his arm. Luke grumbles, so touching down in the alleyway, I toss him a half-hearted apology, and then it's my turn to play the waiting game. While he fusses with his phone, I inhale the smell of gas fumes, bask in the steam billowing from the grate like a plume of smoke, and listen keenly to the honking horns at the opposite end of the narrow alley appreciating the concrete jungle. It doesn't compare to the lushness of nature with its sereness cloaked in fields of brightly colored blooms, wind whistling through tree branches, and sky the color of... sky. Still, the city isn't a shrinking violet, it's a utopia with its own pulse- a scent, rhythm, and a sensation that in some ways, is just as vibrant, and alluring.

Finally, he joins me, and together we do our stretching routine starting with our lower extremities, then strangely he bows out. Soldiering on, I clutch the back of my left shoulder, stretching my right side. I go to my right shoulder mirroring the move on my left, but he touches my elbow thwarting the full range of motion. "I have something to show you," Luke announces. When I reel around, he shoves the iPhone in front of my face. Benji's likeness is filling the screen.

I snatch the device from his hand, press it to my chest, and slump against the façade of Escala calling to mind the joy of welcoming him into my heart, and the pure misery of having him ripped from it. Only the loss of my human child has put that pain into perspective. "This made my morning," I choke.

"Thought it would. Mom emailed it earlier, but I wasn't able to pull it up." Lurching forward, I return the phone before suppressed feelings bubble to the surface.

"Thanks."

He stuffs the cell in the elastic band encasing his bicep, and as I wipe dust from the bottom of my jogging shorts, he bends down securing the laces on his running shoes. Popping upright Luke scours my face, and there's a reflective glint in his eyes. "You look... Relaxed. Effervescent. You're practically glowing. It's been a long time since I've seen you this buoyant. If ever." Pensively, he stares at me. "Will it cross some arbitrary friendship line if I confess that I'm jealous."

A nervous smile tugs at my lips, followed by a dismissive sigh. "Probably. But if the past is any predictor, don't worry, this won't last-" Luke snorts, gruffily. "What?"

"You."

"And." I gesture with my hand for him to spit it out.

"For someone who espouses to be Mary Sunshine sewing gumdrops, you sure can be Miss doom, and gloom. Just now when you were forecasting impending ruination, it clicked. You're Pig Pin. I had a vision of drama swirling around you, like the filth, surrounded his head."

"Pig. Pen. Clever. I don't know if I should be offended or gracious," I giggle, "but I feel some kind of way-"

Luke tugs my sleeve. "Take the fake outrage out on the streets. Run, and talk."

"Aye, aye sir."

We trot for a bit, and he reverses our course. A delivery truck darted in front of another one. "Too much commotion that way, this way is better."

"I have no contempt- it's probably a bigger insult for Pig Pen. If Charles Schultz were alive you'd have to issue him an apology for the comparison though."

Luke laughs. "Just so you know, self-deprecation is just as bad."

"I am hot a mess. I'll admit it." He's quiet. "I leap from one fire to the next, most my own creation. Being here. Spending time with Christian. Gleaning valuable insight into who we are as a couple, versus two people simply talking past each other..." I swing my head his way and our eyes lock.

"What? I got nothing. Just listening."

"Denial is a river in Egypt."

"And Truth is a city in the US," he quips, "I can do this all day."

I make a buzzer sound. "Wrong. The city is Truth or Consequences, it's in New Mexico. Get your facts straight. Hear that?" I cup my hand to my ear. "It's the sound of the mic shattering on the ground."

"Smartass."

"Don't hate the player, hate the game."

Tracing a circle in the pavement, he gives me a playful nudge. "No more MTV Rap for you."

I stick my tongue out at him. "Anywho, being here has centered me. Regardless of what's on the horizon, I'm going to enjoy the moment- "

"Ladies' and Gentlemen Mary Sunshine is back. That's the spirit. Upbeat. Now you're living up that tagline on the bottom of your emails. How does it go- today's a gift- "

"'That's why it's called the present.'" His recall was failing him so I jumped in. "It is my all-time favorite, but another quote was my inspiration. 'Live, love, and laugh'. A smart man told me that once."

"A romantic devil too. And good looing don't forget."

I giggle. "Very." He checks his Apple Watch. "How many steps?"

"Not counting; I was checking on something else."

"I won't ask."

"Good"

"In case you're wondering, things are going smoothly. Christian's been magnanimous-"

"Go figure. And even after you bitterly accused him of incredibly ugly things, when his only crime was wanting to protect you."

"Cut me some slack. It was a tense day. My nerves were frayed."

"Okay, if that's your excuse, and your sticking with it." At the curb we run in place waiting for the traffic light to change. "So, tell me about the house party?" Luke says.

The pedestrian signal appears. "I don't know if I'd call it a house party, the only similarity, it was a party at a house," I lament, as we trot along the crosswalk. "One implies unruly teenagers pillaging and plundering everything. This was a tad more civilized. The partygoers were more refined. The setting more a fortress than a rambling ranch on a suburban tree lined street. It had all the trappings of unspecified wealth, and as for the shallow millennials dripping with riches. The only antics they were interested in is comparing mommy and daddy's spoils."

"Still, it's unfathomable to me that Grey allowed you to go -without him no less. And Taylor for all intents and purposes allowed you to roam unsupervised."

"The place was swarming with the security. Some might have been Secret Service."

"That explains the long leash. Did you have fun at least. I can't tell from your colorful description."

We round the corner to the main block, I have to swing wide to miss the rough edges of protruding stones. "Don't judge me. You grew up in the environment, I'm an outsider."

"Ana they're just people. Stop generalizing and comparing yourself to them. Rich people aren't all bad. The same way poor people aren't all good. You have a developed thought, but it's a simplistic view. Rich people are individuals with more things, and the money either highlights their weaknesses or dulls their strengths."

"Deep."

"Yeah, right."

"Luke, I'm serious, and you're one of the good ones. Your light is always shining."

"Whatever," he grunts. "Where was it, T. didn't give me details, and nothing you've described is ringing a bell."

"Um, not sure didn't ask, didn't care. Full disclosure, Mia had me too hyped to ask questions."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Mia Grey has issues, but partying hard isn't one. And I'm sure her brother called in some favors, so he knew you guys were safe. It's why he was comfortable."

"Perhaps, and he was probably struck with a small dose of guilt mixed in with a generous heaping of pity."

Luke grins. "You can create quite the imagery with your words, dramatic some would say. Case in point. Gilded gage. My favorite by the way- can't lie"

I roll my eyes at him. "You're sooo funny-"

"Wait there's more," he says cutting me off, "the crap you just spouted."

You're hilarious, but the jokes on you yet again. Doesn't count if I wasn't wrong. Escala is a museum masquerading as a humble abode, and Mia's friends are spoiled brats."

"No, you're hilarious," he says.

"You're hilarious," I respond, and like two kindergarteners we continue with the lame shtick, until he decides to get serious.

"Compassion or contrition?"

I stop giggling, and stare at him blankly. "Cum-pas-shun," I sound it out trying to discern the question.

"Compassion or contrition, which inspired this morning, because I was shocked when T. called me into action."

"Ohhh. Then both. It was Christian's suggestion, and I didn't balk at it. I suspect he wanted to give me a change of pace from running with him and Mr. Taylor every morning. But it's all wrapped in with the guilt, and pity thing."

"Perhaps."

Peeping around I take notice of the buses, cars, and taxis motoring past us. Seattle is slowly rising from its slumber. "No, paparazzi."

"They've been quiet of late. Lying low which is why I've been on the bench."

"Perfect Segue. What have you been up to?"

"We're not talking about me," he says, leading us onto a block with less traffic.

"And why not."

"I said so." His response is terse. I drift into his path, but he rams me with his elbow before I can bump his arm. "Watch it." Luke's warning is in time for me to sidestep dog poo.

"Yuk. I hate dog owners who don't clean up after their pets."

"Me too. It's why you have to stay sharp."

We clear the minefield. "I'm not letting you off the hook."

"We're not talking about me Ana so move on."

"Okay, then the backpacking trip-"

"You're relentless. What part of we're-not-talking-about-me do you not understand." Abruptly I stop. "What are you doing?"

"Protesting."

Luke backpedals. "Dramatic Ana. Noisy Ana." When he's next to me, he hooks his arms with my arm. "Stubborn Ana," he says completing his list. "Luckily, I like them all." His voice is smoldering, laced with all sorts of innuendos.

There's an empty silence, and I unlock my arms. "We were doing so well."

"Yep, we were."

We start running, the beat of our feet pounding the cement is a steady rhythm that smothers the rumbling that's both an ache, and a reminder. "You were testing me."

"No. I was speaking frankly, this is testing you. Playing house must make the sex hella good-" I squawk, and he zooms off.

Huffing in frustration I pick up my pace too, and catch up to him. He's still having a cathartic laugh at my expensive. "Two can play at that game, you know."

"You're too easy."

"Now. Your sex life."

His boyish smile dissolves into something more resolute. "We're not talking about my sex life. Ana."

"Huh," I sigh, "not' so funny when the shoe's on the other foot."

"Last night. 2 days. Jill, Kate, Ashley, and a couple of Whitneys." I tip the bib of the hat back, my nonverbal request for clarity. "Answers to questions you're dying to ask me. I had sex last night. I don't go out with any one girl for more than two days in a row. The names are the names of some of the women I've slept with. Not all. And before you ask the question that's nagging you the most, yes to WSU. In particularly a cute little blonde.

Laughing hysterically, I slow to a standstill. "I'm sorry. I missed most of the that. I couldn't get past Ashley, and Mary Kat…" I sputter. "Reminds me of the Olsen twins."

He stares down his nose at me. "Kate. Not Mary Kate," he growls.

I scrutinize his face, and he's trying desperately not to crack. "I know. I couldn't resist. It makes Kate furious too." He gestures for me to getting going "And who's the blonde, and what's so special about her?" Using my sleeves, I wipe the corners of my eyes, as I start a slow trot. "Thank you. I haven't laughed this much, and that hard in a long time."

"You're welcome."

"Now. about the girl, who is she."

"I thought you missed that part."

"Some seeped in. So."

"Ask Sean."

"Sean. What does he have to do with anything?"

"She's his girlfriend."

"Lucas. Sawyer. You did not."

"I did, and it was good."

I give him the hand. "TMI. But why go after Sean's girlfriend. He's a good guy."

"Let set the record straight. I didn't go after. I bumped into her, one day when I was hanging out waiting for you. And you can relax, girlfriend is a hyperbole. She's someone he's banging, is more like it."

"Still. You targeted her. You're just like Christian. You're jealous."

"The only thing Christian Grey, and I have in common is you." The loud noise from the city, fades into the background, and we're left with the conflicting factions of our emotions but appealing to our better instincts we simply let things sit. Smartly, choosing not to get mired in the confusion that is Ana, and Luke.

I'm the first to speak. "I wished you wouldn't have dragged Sean into this, or taken advantage of the girls on campus."

"Sean, can take care of himself, and I didn't take advantage of anyone!"

"Don't get defensive, I'm not talking criminal. I'm speaking emotionally. It's not easy getting over someone like you."

" You're not over me?" His mood is changing so quickly, I have whiplash. He's gone from warm, to frosty, and now jovial.

"Don't. Flatter yourself. Metaphorically speaking."

"Surrre," he says playfully.

"I hate you."

Luke laughs. "And why?"

"I wanted you to squirm. Instead you were forthcoming," I pout.

"Ana, it's just sex to me, that's why it was easy. It's love that makes it difficult for you."

"Could be," I sigh. "I Have a question."

"God help me." His head snaps up to the sky, and falls forward. "Go ahead."

"Why do you get so prickly, whenever I bring up your backpacking trip? What are you hiding?"

"Race you to Escala." He bolts, before I can object so I sprint too.

My pace was faster this morning, I not only caught him, but dusted him; however, he won the war. The fast pace, wasn't conversational so we couldn't discuss his trip, and what he's hiding. Thankfully, he didn't hold a grudge, our mourning together ended in the way it started, the two of us clowning each other; so much so, that when the elevator doors ping open we're in the throes hysteria. "You're never this jubilant after running with Taylor and me," Christian says when Luke and I stagger out of the steel box.

Luke snaps into CPO mode, and I fall into Christian arms, lacking the strength to fling myself at him. To his credit he doesn't rebuff me, he envelopes me in a warm embrace. "You two aren't funny." I rest my face on his chest.

Christian bellows. "Duly noted." He plucks the cap from my head and clumps of slick wet tresses tumble over my shoulders and down my back. "Did you win?" Christian inquires.

I press back on his forearms. "How did you know we raced," I mutter.

"A hunch. And you're drenched in sweat, breathing hard, naturally competitive, and Luke's responsibility as your security personnel is to indulge your whims," Christian says.

"And you wouldn't have?"

"Let's just say, I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

"Embarrass Me." I almost do a back bend, in his arms. "Oh Grey, it's on. I'm going to beat your ass like I own you."

Luke's professionalism, takes a dive, and he guffaws, and Christian with a very satisfied grin on his face hauls me back to his chest. "Not too hard. You already own me, and My Ass."

"Christian!"

"Baby, it's just Luke and Gail," he says, pointing out the obvious, but missing the point. Ignorant to my real discomfort, he runs his hand down my damp hair as he questions Luke.

"No, Mr. Grey. Everything was clear. The alley was busy, an influx of deliveries this morning but nothing unusual." Reclaiming his more businesslike bearing, Luke replies in short and concise sentences.

"Good. You can go. Taylor probably won't need you until we get a new date for Anastasia's interview."

"Yes, sir," Luke says, and I hear the doors to the elevator.

Christian nudges me back. "Can you eat something?"

"Yes. Let me shower first."

He inspects the front of his shirt. "Looks like I'll need a shower too."

"Hardly. A damp shirt doesn't justify a shower. It calls for a change of shirt."

His hands fall, and cups mine. "Gail."

"Yes, Mr. Grey." Inside I cringe. Will I ever get used to his staff? Our banter was far from explicit, but the sexual overtones were there. "Miss Steele what would you like for breakfast. Your usual."

"No. I think I'll have pancakes, and bacon this morning."

"Pancakes." Christian pulls me flush to his side, and he lowers his mouth to my ear so only I can hear. "You just made my dick twitch."

"Christian everything makes your dick twitch," I retort.

"Good point. Well made."

The shower as a place for bathing has long been lost on Christian and me, it has replaced the bed as our favorite place to make love. This morning, however, it proved to be too much of a good thing. Our make out sessions, zapped the energy out of Mr. Sex-Machine himself driving his decision to work from home. But first, he had to feed me. Then we barricaded ourselves in his office. He worked, I read, listen to music and watch him work until Miss Jones summoned us for lunch.

We emerge from the office; the smell of butter greets us. "Popcorn. Miss Jones making popcorn for lunch."

"Let's find out." Unexpectedly, Christian pauses at the media room and opens the door.

"What's all this?"

"Go see."

Releasing his hand, I stroll inside, and stand in the middle of the room in awe. The level of detail, the amount of effort that had gone into transforming the space into a replica of a movie theater was something to be hold. "Why, it was an exceptional media room."

Christian jams his hands inside his pants pocket. "It was, and it will be again, but not today," he explains, as he crosses the threshold,"you are my queen, and today this is your court."

"But How. When."

Removing his hand, he points to his ears. "Noise cancelling headphones," he says,"but the majority of it was completed while you were out." He's gloating, but not from arrogance- it's fueled by his excitement.

"You tricked me." I poke his side. "It's why you were peddling your fancy headphones, and you pawned me off on Luke. Come to think of it, this entire morning was an elaborate scheme."

"Yes." Hanging his head, Christian gives me a quick peck on the forehead. "I wanted you to be surprised."

My eyes flit from one feature to the next. "Well, you've succeeded."

He motions with his chin. "Check out the basket."

I skip to the pedestal holding a medium sized wicker basket, and demonstratively lift the top. It's packed with every Nicholas Sparks book turned into a movie, mixed with countless of Romantic Comedies. "When Harry Met Sally, Three Weddings And A Funeral, Clueless." Reading them off, I fan the discs out in my hand. "Are you mad. We're going to watch all of these?"

"Yes." Traversing the room, Christina grabs the CDs' from me and drops them into the container. "And no-" The elevator pings, cutting him off.

"Christian." The lyrical lilt of his mother's voice fills the cavernous space.

"Your mother is here," I whisper.

"Yes." Mocking my tone, a smiling Christian threads his fingers in with my fingers. "In here mother."

Dr. Grace, with an excitable Mia by her side, appears in the doorway, just as we close in on it. "Christian, you weren't kidding." Her eyes inspect every crevice. "This is spectacular; I can't believe you got all this completed in a few short hours."

"I'd say, considering I was in the house and didn't hear a thing."

Closing the distance, Dr. Grace drapes her arm across my shoulders. "Darling you're so precious, give me a hug." She draws me into an embrace, just as Mia brushes past us.

"Sweet." An animated Mia claims her seat.

Christian chuckles. "I see you've marked your spot."

She swings her feet like an amused child. "All I need now is some Robert Pattison in my eyeballs," Mia swoons.

Christian gathers us around a disappointed Mia, and fills us in on his plans for us. An elaborate scheme, and he's bestowed upon it the unimaginative title of Ladies' day, and to my discomfort and the joy of his mother he repeated the ridiculously corny queen bit. Burying my embarrassment, I try to concentrate on him, but I'm preoccupied with his mother. She's beaming, her eyes are welling with tears observing her son with a relaxed, and jocular attitude.

He concludes, and as if they choreographed it Miss Jones enters with the stack of white robes. "There's Gail. I'm thrilled you're joining us," Dr. Grace says.

"I am too." Miss Jones sets the bounty down on the small hutch. "It was generous of Mr. Grey to invite me."

Dr. Grace squeezes Christian's hand. "I for one, am glad he did, I'm looking forward to the adult conversation." It's humorous witnessing her lower her voice to a whisper in front of us, as we can't hear her.

I giggle, and Mia leaps up from her chair racing to the fluffy robes. "A full body massage, and watching movies all day in your robe. Priceless," she says, rubbing the cotton between her fingers.

"Thank Anastasia. She was my muse. Her pension for loungewear is the same you have couture."

"Thank you Ana, this almost makes up for the Robert Pattison omission. " Staring across the room at her brother, Mia cocks her head. "Really Christian, you couldn't get one movie, not even Water for Elephant," she whines.

Walking up to her, I pat her on the arm. "Next time. I promise."

Christian steps away from his mother. "I'll let you ladies sort out the movie situation, I have a conference call to prepare for. Remember Gail has the room stocked with everything you'd find at a movie complex, and more. But you still have the run of the place." He zeroes in on Miss Jones. "And Gail don't you dare do anything. Rely on the staffers I've brought in or call me."

"Sweetheart speaking of staffers, do you know if Elena is coming?"

Christian can't make it to me fast enough, he's aware of the effect that woman's name has on me. "No, mother."

"I'm going to call her."

"No," Christian, and I reply in stereo.

"I want to keep it to just the four of us." I attempt to soften our adamant response.

"I'm sorry Dear, I should clarify, I wasn't going to invite her. I thought she'd want to be here to supervise her team. She's very particular especially when it comes to her favorite Clients."

"Yeah right. Mom, I know Mrs. Lincoln is your friend, but she only dotes on us because Christian gave her the money to open her salons."

"Invested Mia, not gave. Get it right."

Dr. Grace tosses the phone back inside her giant Birkin tote. A bag, I'd recently become acquainted with after Kate fawned mercifully over it. "Forget it. You kids. I swear."

Christian's relief is immediate, and he gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek. "On that note, I'm out of here. Lunch in about 15 minutes. Dinner is at your leisure. Thank you Gail for surrendering your kitchen to my chef. He will treat your kitchen with the same reverence he does his kichen at the Club.

"He'd better," Miss Jones chortles.

Christian's back disappears through the door, and Dr. Grace slaps her hands on the back of my shoulder whirling me around, and hugging me like her life depended on it. "Thank you, my sweet girl. I've never seen him so happy, and free with his time. Before you, we were rarely invited here. Now this. It's unbelievable." Removing her arms, she gazes into my eyes. "I'm glad you took my advice."

"Thank you for your guidance, and support."

"Are we going to watch movies or are you two going to blather about Christian all day," Mia pouts.

"Watch a movie," Dr. Grace and I say in unison.

It's close to midnight, and Dr. Grace and Mia are just now leaving. Mia can hardly stay upright; her mother's shoulder is her pillow. "Good night my darlings, thank you for such a wonderful day. And night." Her eyes drop to the top of her daughter's head. "Mia thanks you too, we won't soon forget it."

"Mom. Spend the night. I have the room."

"Christian you know your father."

"Yes, he's like me, he wants to wake up with his girl next to him."

Dr. Grace's cheeks are crimson. "Something like that. And I have to be at the hospital early." She glances at the top of Mia's head, and then forward. "We should go, so this one can get to bed."

Draped in her fluffy white rope, Miss Jones makes an appearance. "Do you need anything Mr. Grey, before I retire."

"Gail. Why don't you sleep in tomorrow-"

"Great idea. I can make breakfast," I squeal.

Dr. Grace's smiles profusely, but Mr. Taylor closes the elevator doors before she can rant lyrically about what she overheard.

"Goodnight. Guess, I'll see you two for lunch," Miss Jones, says.

"Alone. At last."

"At last." Fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt, I fill my mind with all he has done for me in the lasts weeks. Not only satisfying my carnal needs, but also feeding my intellectual development, and nurturing my soul. "You don't have to entertain me like you're my babysitter. I'm capable of being still. Being quiet." My hand falls, and my head tilts to the side. "Watching you work. Watching you read. Watching you eat. Just watching you..." I bite my bottom lip. Christian strokes the side of my face, and caressing my jawline he touches his thumb to my chin easing my teeth and lip apart. Then nudging my head forward, his mouth opens, and inexplicably closes. "Speechless Mr. Grey,"

"Everyday. All day." An unflattering he-he escapes me and just like that the sexual tension crackling in the air quiets. "My sister is never poetic but always apropos. I'm gonna have to investigate Robert Pattison for her," he tacks on, "but I must give credit where credit is due, you leave me speechless every day."

I latch my pinky finger onto to his, and sway our arms. "Every day you rock my world, Christian. But what you did today for me. Mia. Miss Jones, and most importantly your mother was beyond special. It was monumental. Even when it seems like we're imploding, I get to see you at your best. It's time you shared that with your family."

Unlocking our fingers, Christian pops the collar on my robe. "I take it these were a hit."

"Let's see." I touch my finger to my lips. "The fact that we're all still wearing them. I'd say yes." I pause. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Change the subject, when I'm heaping praise on you."

He releases the collar; strolls to a barstool and props his elbow on it. "Go ahead." Mockingly, he gestures to the floor.

I flip the collar down. "For starters, you're a great son, brother, employer, and boyfriend. Secondly, your attention to detail is unmatched. With everything you have on your schedule to plan something of this magnitude with the specificity you did was thoughtful, mind boggling, and quintessentially you-"

"Quintessential," he blurts out, " will have to make that my word of the day."

"Funny, ha-ha."

Listing forward, he stretches his long arm grabbing the end of my sash hauling me to him. "No, not funny ha-ha," he says, taking me with him when he falls against the counter. "I'm elated that you can see the best in me when repeatedly I show you my worst."

I slap his thighs. "Again. You're not playing fair."

"This is the only way I know how to play," he says snuggling my neck.

I give my shoulder a half shrug. "I have a serious question."

"What," he mumbles against my skin.

"The paparazzi. What happened. One minute there's fire, and poof nothing."

His head pops up. "I haven't killed them if that's your question."

I laugh. "If you had, I wouldn't hold it against you."

"I'll keep that in mind." He taps my nose. "Some lurking in the shadows. But likely they're underground doing they're homework. If luck is on our side, they won't find out anything until after your graduation. Then it will be moot."

"I can't wait. Finally, we'll be able to come out as a couple." I peer up at him. " We're like an episode of the Bachelor."

"What."

"Never mind." I lower my gaze. "I just can't wait until we can hang out like a regular couple."

"Sorry to disappoint you, we'll never be a regular couple."

"I'll settle for normal."

"Normal is iffy too."

I smile. "Maybe." He lugs my hair from under my collar and holds it in a ponytail behind my head. "The robes were an excellent idea for a perfect day," I murmur.

"Why don't we continue the perfect day in the bedroom. You can relax. I can comb your hair."

Audibly I sigh. "Christian if I get any more relaxed my muscles will liquefy."

"Plan B." Angling his head, he licks the shell of my ear. "I take you to bed, crawl in behind you, mold my body to yours, and we fall asleep listening to your playlist?"

Lurching forward, I almost collide my head with his chin. "You got yourself a deal."

Chuckling he releases my hair and wraps his hand around mine. "Enjoyed the movies," he says, as we walk hand in hand down the hall.

"Yes. Most of the time the screen watched us. But mainly we unwound in the wonderful gift you spoiled us with, ate and gushed about you."

"Next time we'll do this for Mia's birthday. Make it a Robert Pattison-a-thon."

"The only thing she'd love more is Robert Pattison himself," I snort.

"There's a thought."

"Oh no, I forgot who I'm talking too," I giggle. "Umm, before I forget, Elizabeth Morgan text me. Her mother is better, she's back in town, so our meeting is set for next week."

Christian opens the bedroom door. "I'll have Taylor inform Luke," he says, flicking the loosely tied slipknot on the sash. The robe flops open, and he pushes it off my shoulders letting it bunch on the floor at my feet. I trample over it when he drags my naked body the rest of the way inside the room.

He slams the door, whips me around, and one at a time Christian positions my arms above my head. Flattening his palms on top of the back of my hands, he collapse on top of me. The buttons on his shift, and the buckle on his belt digs into my inflamed skin. The biting isn't particularly harsh; the affliction is my unhealthy desire for him. I crave him.


We pull up in front of GEH, Luke cuts the engine, and twisting in his seat, he props his elbow over the headrest. "Taylor will be here shortly," he says. "You're right, there is a very notable change in Grey. You know how to handle him. There's easiness between the two of you. He's more loose. For God sakes he didn't flinch when he caught us palling around in the elevator, there's no fear of self-incrimination when you use my name, and he rolled with it when you were ribbing him."

"I appreciate the compliment, but I reject the notion of handling him - no one handles Christian Grey. A few weeks ago, I never thought I'd say this, but the fiasco with the paparazzi has made us stronger. The uninterrupted time together has allowed the small fissures to heal fortifying our trust, allowing our love to flourish" The irony is glaring, but he has the civility not to contradict me.

"I also wanted to tell you-"

My phone pings. "Hold that thought. Let me read this. I texted Kate earlier about my job." I burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, she's so funny. She replied to me," time your lazy ass stop living off your rich man." I snigger, but his reaction is much more sober. "It was funnier when I read it to myself." My fragile pride sufficiently, wounded I stuff the phone in my purse.

He feigns a cough. "Right," he says. "Listen. I'm going on vacation. I won't be needed. After today, you'll be glued to T. and Grey. So, I'm taking advantage of the free time."

"When."

"Soon as I'm packed.

"What's the rush? This an excuse to disappear."

He exhales. "No. I want to get some surfing in, and the waves are calling me."

"Wait. You're going to miss my graduation."

"Never. I'll be back in time; T. will need all hands on deck."

"Silly me. Here I thought it was because of me."

"Everything I do is because of you." I shift uncomfortably in my seat, and Grey House emblazoned, at the top of the skyscraper pops into my line of sight; it's an opportunist reminder of the great divide in my life. "Ana," Luke calls, "are you alright, you zoned out for a moment."

The car door opens. "Miss Steele," Mr. Taylor says.

Hurriedly, I grab my pile of literature, and scramble outside. "Miss Steele," Luke yells, before Mr. Taylor can close my door.

I let Mr. Taylor have small the stack of paper, and poke my head back inside the SUV. "If I gave you a graduation gift, would you accept it?," Luke whispers.

"Depends, if it's appropriate," I murmur.

"I can do appropriate."

My subdued expression transitions into a broad smile. "Then I'll expect a titanium Apple Watch."

He laughs "True that."

The door swings. "Now who should stop watching MTV?" He shrugs. "Have a safe trip."

"I will. Thank you," Luke says.

I relinquish the door, to Mr. Taylor, and he slams it closed. "Mr. Grey is on a conference call- "

"Gosh. I should've called. Is he busy? He's busy- "

"Miss Steel. He's never too busy for you. However, you will have to wait in his office for a moment. The call had already begun, when Luke informed me of your change in plans."

Successfully, reassuring me, he escorts me inside the building. The interior matches the outside, modern, sleek, and sterile, but the people bustling about are infusing some warmth into the cold environment. A few of the employees I recognize from my party, but I can't be certain, everyone's eyes are downcast. It's odd, but Mr. Taylor is wearing his stern face, so I'm too intimidated to ask questions, instead I mirror the minions and drop my gaze. I'm relieved when I make it to the elevators, without any stumbling mishaps.

We're delivered to the PH floor, and Mr. Taylor ushers me past Christian's assistant's desk, who stares awkwardly at me. Then he opens the door to his office. Christian lunges from behind his desk, and before I can walk through the door he hoists me off my feet carrying me inside. "My Internet Mogul," he boasts, as he swings me around.

"I thought you were on a call."

"I was." He sets me on my feet. "Let's celebrate, I'm taking you to dinner."

"Now. It's early."

"It's never too early for dinner, but I can think of something we can do in the meantime." My head juts out. "A tour," he chuckles, "what did you think I was going to say?"


Daydreaming I lose myself in the billowy clouds, romanticizing about Christian and me lying on our backs in his meadow debating the shapes of each of the puffy globs, as they float against an azure blue sky. "If I didn't know better, I'd think this was the time you've flown."

Peeling my nose from the glass, I rotate my head. "Flying this way feels like it is."

Christian tucks stray strands of hair behind my ear. "If I have my way, there will be many more flights. I want to you show you the world."

"Christian you dangle the world in front of me like it's a premium - you're the goal."

Sighing, he reclines the back of his head into his headrest. "You make it out be to so simple."

"It is simple; we make it harder. You and me." Hustling closer to him, I ensnare his arm and lay my head on his shoulder. "I can't believe you're doing this, flying me to San Francisco for dinner. Who does that?"

"Napa, precisely," he says correcting me, "and who does that, the man who loves you."

"It's amazing. Thank you, and not just for this trip, but everything. If I haven't said it, I appreciate you. You've gone out of your way to do things out of your comfort zone because they make me happy," I squeeze his arm.

"We've reached cruising altitude Mr. Grey, you're free to move about the cabin," the Captains says, and Christian hunches his shoulder.

Like Houdini, in seconds Christian has us out of our seats. "I have something to show you." We pass Mr. Taylor, he's too involved with the hordes of paperwork laid out on his tray table to be bothered with, and we come to a set of pocket doors. Christian waves a palm in front of them, and the panels glide back "State of the art, but it's not the surprise," he says, just as a standard size bedroom, with a full side bed comes into view.

He leads me inside the sparsely, yet handsomely appointed room. "This is...wow."

We come to a standstill at the end of the bed, and dropping my hand he places his index finger under my chin raising my face to meet his. "I want you to become very familiar with this room." His finger falls away, and keeping his eyes locked on me, Christian plops down on the edge of the immaculately prepared bed. "We're going to be spending a lot of time in it when we travel."

His unrepentant gaze scorching my skin, he bunches the hem of my skirt in his hands, I close my eyes, and hold my breath. His finger flutters, lightly stroking the tingling skin on my outer thighs. My breath gushes out of me, propelling me forward, I have to brace my hands on his shoulders. "Oh Christian." Shivers swarm my body, as he makes a meal out of hiking the form fitting skirt.

"Yes, baby," he murmurs.

"I love you." The only three words I want to expend my energy using.

"I love you, too baby. So much." Blue eyes to gray, we just stare at each other, and at the same time realization dawns. He lets the hem of my skirt go, and catches me when I descend onto his lap. In that second we knew we could never improve upon the intimacy of that moment.

He dabs, the corners of my eyes with his thumb. "You. Overwhelm me Christian. I can't believe you exist, and I'm with you. You're with me. You want me," I whimper.

"Why can't I get it through your head, that I'm the lucky one. Don't you know that I touch you sometimes, just to reassure myself you're real. I survived my terrible childhood escaping into my imagination." He smooth the hair from my face. "But there's nowhere in my mind, or this life I could've imagined you."

I lay my head on his shoulder, and the airplanes bounces. "Yikes."

Christian hold me close, comforting me. "Just a little turbulence. Consider it potholes in the sky."

"If you say so, but I'm not sold."

He angles his head. "Want to go back up front?" Sitting upright, I bite my bottom lip. "You know what that does to me."

"Uh-huh," impishly, I nod, and I release my lip.

My eyes close, begging for him to put his tongue on me when instead he uses his fingers rimming my lips. "Open your eyes baby, I want to see your pleasure." Slowly, my lids curl back, and his eyes are worshipping me. He's penetrating my soul.

I stroke the side of his face, and he leans into my touch. "Do you know how extremely handsome you are."

He plants a butterfly kiss, on the heel of my palm. "Only because you tell me."

"Christian what are you doing to me. I'm scared."

"It's what you're doing to me." He rests his hands on the sides of my hips. "I want to make love to you."

"Pleasse." My voice is so breathy my S hisses. I'm pitiful when it comes to his hands on me, and I don't care.

"Ride me."

I slide off his lap to the bed. "I'd like that." Tugging on his shirt Christian leaps to his feet.

"This will be quick, but not hurried," he says liberating the rest of the shirt from his pants, and his eyes trained on me, he quickly disrobes to his ankles. "Give me your hands." Pulling me upward, Christian retakes his place on his throne.

He is swoon-worthy. Like him his most favorite asset is perfection in every massive inch. I can't help it; I pause for a moment to admire the beauty. He curves slightly to the left, and as I debate my limits, I test my own patience.

A wicked grin toying on his lips, and searing eyes burning into me, Christian positions my hands on his shoulders encouraging me to straddle him. So, as gracefully as I can, I toss my leg over his thighs, and his hand snaps up grazing my inner thigh. I exhale from the shear shock of it, and the sensation from it.

Sweeping underneath my skirt, Christian finds his target, and I bear down on his shoulders, as he slides the flimsy fabric across my clit to the side. Then clamping down on my waist, he slowly eases my throbbing flesh down on him. "Ugh," I cry out when the large head breaches my entrance.

Christian bucks his hips, thrusting another inch or so inside me. "Damn. That's it baby." Freeing his hand, he undoes the top button of my blouse.

I simper, and he smooth the silk across my chest, as I continue coaxing my swollen flesh down his engorged length. Exposing my bra, he then heaves the heavy mounds in his hands. My back bows loosening my grip on his shoulders, and sending my head back. As he sucks my nipples through the delicate gossamer fabric, I use his muscular thighs as leverage to help me sheath his seemingly expanding erection to the root.

My body spasms, bumping his mouth from off me. "Gawd Christian," I scream flinging my arms around his neck begging for the mercy I need, but do not want.

Burying my head in his shoulder, I cling to him as he bounces me on his pulsating member. His cologne meshed with his clean fresh Christian inspires me to give him full control. So, as we cruise the friendly skies, Christian alternates between rocking my hips on his erection, and snaking his arms under the curves of my ass digging his fingers into my inner thighs, feverishly lifting me up and down on it. The cool, dry air on the airplane is stifling sweat from beading on my skin, giving my thick main the freedom to blanket his face without the retribution of moisture stinging his eyes or tainting his lips with salt.

"The aroma of sex, and Ana. My drug," Christian growls.

"Mm-mm," I cry, as he slams me down on his erection. The friction, and noise he's generating from the punishing pace is incendiary, setting my insides on fire.

My walls constrict. "Fuck," Christian grunts, my core sucking him in like a vice grip. He loses control, and as every muscle in me tightens, with a chorus of high-pitched babbling, and expletives we come. Hard

Whimpering, I slouch against his chest. "That was-" Christian yanks my hair almost out of my scalp wrenching my head back. He then crushes his mouth to mine, dominating my mouth with his tongue, and I give him my full submission, even as I struggle to replenish the oxygen to my brain.

He lets go, and my head bobs. "Out of this world, is the description I think you were searching for," Christian rasps, at the same time, I deliberately clench my walls around his semi-erect cock. "Oh shit Anastasia. Fuck." His head lobs forward. "Whoa. Damn. Baby. Where did you learn that?" I discount the throwaway line, and savor the balance of power from what I can do to him.

Smiling, I push his unruly hair from his face. "No. Mind blowing," I purr.

"That too," Christian mutters, "seeing I can barely open my eyes."

I giggle. "I can't either."

"It must be the air pressure, because sex with you is always an experience but that was something else."

"Does this mean I'm part of the mile-high club?"

"Definitely," he nods.

The intercom hums. "Mr. Grey, the tower is reporting some turbulence ahead. If you're not seated, please do so now, and Sir please remain seated the remainder of the flight. We should be arriving at San Francisco International airport in about 20 minutes," the Captain says.

"That's why I didn't have us undress." Christian pushes my limp body back, and he adjusts my top. "There's a full bathroom through that door. Can you stand?"

"Not, really."

He chuckles. "I'll clean up across the aisle." Christian assists me to my feet, and automatically my thighs press together. Somehow my panties remained intact, but it is soaked with his cum. "If it weren't urgent that we get back to our seats, I'd do something about that. I'd make you stand there, and I'd watch as my cum seep out of you, stream all the way down those long toned legs to those sexy high heels." He says, shimming my skirt over my hips. It's official, he's corrupted me, I found that unapologetically lewd commentary erotic, and arousing.

I exit the bathroom, and Christian is waiting for me at the entrance to the bedroom dangling a panty. "I'm not going to ask." Crossing the cabin, I grab it from the end of his finger.

"Why do you think; I didn't remove your panties?"

"Who knows with you," I say, stepping into the sheer material.

"Did you think I'd let you out in public with no panties," he whispers to me as I step in the doorway. "That's only for my pleasure."

I pivot, and bump into Miss perfectly white teeth. "I'm so sorry. Miss Steele please forgive me for startling you," emphatically she apologizes, as Christian scolds her with his piercing eyes.

"What do you want Elise?"

"The captain, um, just. I mean." Stuttering she pauses to collect herself. "I wanted to offer my assistance-"

"Did I ask for your assistance? We're more than capable of making it the few feet to the front."

The resurgence of her wooden expression is complete, her poise is back. "Yes Sir, of course. A cool glass of water is waiting for you at your seats. If we hurry, you'll have enough time for a few sips, before I have to tidy the cabin, and have you return your trays back to their positions."

"Thorough," I mumble under my breath.

"It's her job," Christian responds, not particularly caring who hears, and I motion to him with my eyes. I wasn't expecting a response. It wasn't for public consumption. She has the good sense, or a hardy respect for her job not challenge him. However, she doesn't hold me in the same regard, her professionalism slips when she eyeballs me. Self-conscious, I check my hair, my clothes, then I jump to worst case scenario; she heard us, or worse yet she didn't, but is well acquainted with the den of sex, and I'm not the only one.

Elise collects our glasses. "I got it," I say sliding my tray table into place.

Christian stare at me. "What's wrong with you. You've been quiet since we sat down," he says, as Elise scurries down the hall.

"How many Christian."

"I've never had sex with anyone, on this aircraft, if that's what you're asking."

"How many of them have flown with you. On. This. Aircraft?"

"None, but Sam has." I face the window. "Anastasia it was business," he says. "Baby. Please look at me."

"I'm fine Christian." I rest the side of my head against the glass. "Give me a moment. I've made peace with your concubine, but Sam is different. She wasn't one of them"

"Anastasia, my life didn't begin until you, those women don't matter."

The plane drops, and any thoughts of Sam fades. "Oh God!"

Christian rubs my hand. "Don't be scared. Remember what I told you."

After the rough patch, the Captain finds smooth air for the remainder of the flight. When we deplane, a limo, and driver are waiting for us. Mr. Taylor helps us into the back, and he joins driver in the front seat. "This is new."

"It's a quick in and out trip, wasn't worth the hassle of renting an SUV, so we ditched our normal protocol," Christian says, and he presses the button for the privacy screen. "I might have to consider investing in one of these-"

"A limo?"

"No. Privacy screen."

"Any particular reason." His gaze lowers, and I follow his eyes to the tent in his pants. I grimace. "Nooo."

He undoes his seatbelt, removes his jacket, and hustling across the seat he undoes my safety belt. Smirking Christian hovers over me. "Want to rethink that answer," he mutters as he slides my coat off one shoulder.

The limo rolls to stop in front of a quaint brick building covered in Ivey. It's charming, but rather bland considering its Michelin Guide status. "That was fast," I say knotting the belt on my trench coat.

"Baby, you were preoccupied. It was long enough for two fucks, and me to contemplate a third."

He's trying to get a rise out of me, but I'm not biting, instead I crane my neck, and peek over his shoulders out his window. "The view is more bucolic than Silicon Valley."

Christian adjusts his jacket. "The scenery is much more pleasant. We'll return, and you can experience it up close and personal instead of from your back-"

"Christian, must you always be so crass."

He gives the end of my belt a good-natured tug. "Baby, you're right. The South Bay has Silicon Valley, but it doesn't compare to Napa. Wine country is the heart of Northern California, and one of the main reasons people love San Francisco," he says, as Mr. Taylor and the driver opens our doors with synchronized precision. "Can you walk?"

A Mona Lisa smile creeps across my lips. "I'll manage."

A debonair middle-aged man, greets us on the sidewalk and escorts us inside via a private entrance. "Mr. Grey, you and your guest will be dining in here tonight. Mr. Keller sends his regards; with such a late notice he couldn't make the arrangement to be here in time. He's in New York."

"Thomas, and I spoke. His absence is understandable," Christian says.

"Thank you for your generosity," the man replies, "Here's our menu. It's not necessary, it's a souvenir you will be dining from the chef's menu. Now let me introduce you to the wait staff that will be attending to you, and your guest."

After filling our classes with fancy fizzy water, the team leaves us alone in the relatively cramp, but elegant dining space. "If this menu is any indication, this place must be expensive."

"Good thing, I can afford it." Christian smirks.

I inspect the oversized menu, made of invitation grade cardstock, and embossed in gold lettering. Pressing it to my chest, I lean across the edge of the table. "It's crowded." With my chin I motion to the packed main dining room behind the glass wall. "Reservations can't be that convoluted."

He takes a sip of water, and the beverage hypnotizes me as it travels down his throat forming that luscious lump at the base when he swallows. "It's not convoluted, it's firm," he says breaking my concentration, and I flip my hair behind my shoulders to regain my composure. "Two months to the day. I've never used it, when I want to dine I call Thomas, and he makes it happen. But from others, I understand it can be quite the ordeal, akin to calling into a radio station. Something else I've never done."

"Neither have I, but I've always wanted to," I say, and the Sommelier enters the room cutting our conversation short.

He approaches the table, pours Christian's wine, then he fills my glass with some hoighty- toighty pear cider. "To your new job." Christian raises his stemware in the air, and lifting mine I tap it. "Cheers."

"Thank you." I bring the glass to my lips. I was skeptical at first, but the expensive cider's taste is distinctively more refined than any I've had. Who knew cost mattered when it came to cider? I set the glass down on the table, and ogle him. "This is so extravagant Christian. I'm running out words to use to say thank you."

"The look plastered on your face is thanks enough." He sets his glass down. "After the first 100 million, the money is more about the power it affords you than the excesses it can buy you. Because of you I have a renewed appreciation for money's purchasing power. When I buy something for me, it's just something else. When I buy for you, it opens up a world of possibilities. I discovered my reason, for amassing the fortune I have."

I lay my arm flat across the table, and he locks his fingertips with mine. "I love you, Mr. Grey.

"End your search, you've found your words."

Our 11-course tasting meal was masterfully prepared, and the presentation was very aesthetic. Things were deconstructed, spun with sugar, or suspended in dry ice. Either way each dish was delectable proving why the enchanted eatery was once the top restaurant in the world, and at the same time mystifying me as to why it still isn't.

The driver drove the limo to the door, so we literally walked from the dining room, and climbed into the car. "The brochure."

"Um, can I put on my seatbelt first."

"Sorry. What you said about SIP, peeked my interest. I didn't realize they were delving into electronic publishing."

"Cool your jets, the idea is in its infancy. It's why Elizabeth Morgan is so eager to have me on board. To gather requirements- "Christian breaks in.

"Here's a thought. Don't work for SIP, don't work for GEH. Start your own company."

"Hold the checkbook. Just because I've reconsidered letting you invest, doesn't mean now. Let me finish my studies first."

"Baby, I dropped out of Harvard, and started a company with far less knowledge, and the substantial backing you will have."

My arm juts out, and I touch his hand. "Stop. I want to stay in my happy place."

"Your happy place huh?" Christian sends the privacy screen sailing, and removing his jacket, he starts fidgeting with his belt.

"What are you doing?"

Thrusting his hand inside his zipper, he unleashes his cock, and strokes the shaft from the tip to the root. "Bringing joy to your happy place."

After a marathon meal, the last thing I wanted to do was anything sexual. I wanted to slip out of the constructed jacket, kick off the lethal heels, unzip my constricting skirt, recline and let my stomach breathe. Instead I got on my knees on the floorboard of the limousine with the noble intentions of a quick, but satisfying blowjob, but as soon as my lips circle around his erection, eliciting a throaty moan from him a switch in me flipped.

Licking the last ribbon of cum from the slit, I peer up at him. Christian hooks his arm under my shoulders blades, lifting me to back on the seat next to him. "You, are a human marvel. For someone new to sex, you've conquered all facets. Now, let me return the favor."

"Gladly." I kiss him on the cheek. "Later. Right now I'm fatigued, and stuffed. I don't feel very sensual at the moment. Raincheck."

"Raincheck." He tucks himself back inside, and zips his slacks. "You do know you'd be sexy as hell regardless of size. You could be a house in a sack, and I'd find you fetching."

"Right. A brick house, maybe. I wouldn't want to test that theory. There isn't an overweight person in your orbit. Or an unattractive one come to think of it."

"Are you trying to say I'm shallow."

"Let's see. I saw the women in your office. Two of the women, you've slept with, and your housekeeper. I don't have to say it, you've proved it for me."

"Hope you included yourself in the bunch," he says.

The driver parks the limo close to the tarmac designated for private planes, and Christian doesn't wait he opens his door dragging me out with him. When we make it to the jetway, he stops and bending down he sneaks an arm behind my knees. I protest, but it isn't a deterrent, he scoops me up and carries me anyway."

Depositing me in my seat, he secures me in place, then he sits. "Would you like some water Mr. Grey?" My favorite Flight Attendant inquires.

"No, but some for my girlfriend."

"I don't want anything I'm not thirsty," I mutter.

"Anastasia-"

"Christian."

"2 sparkling waters, 1 coffee, 1 tea -bag out."

"Yes sir. Mr. Grey," Elise says, and she sashays down the aisle.

"Thanks for listening." His lips press together, but I can't resist, I lean in. "Add one more," I whisper.

"You made your point in the car. I get it. I'll meet with Human Resources in the morning, and we'll put some policies in place to rectify the situation." He's deadpan.

I giggle. "You do that," I say, "EEOC would greatly appreciate it."

"Now, you're wide eyes and bushy tail, in the car you were near death."

"Not really, I'm running on adrenaline." No warning, he folds his body over his seatbelt, grabs my legs, spins me in my seat, and props the gams across his lap.

He covers me with his jacket, leaving my shoes exposed. "I'm proud of you, you survived all day in these," he says, as one by one he removes the stylish, but crippling stilettos.

Barely, hardly leaves my lips, and the pads of his long fingers are sinking into my bare feet. My head lolls back tapping the window. "Awe. That's it. Heaven."

"Your legs are spectacular in heels. Next time stockings. The two go together. And because next to being naked, you in heels is my favorite thing. Every time you wear them, I promise to do this." Masterfully, he manipulates my feet, and closing my eyes I tune out the other guests, and shamefully moan like a whore losing her drawers.

The massage was so tantalizing, that when my eyes peel open, Christian is snaking his arm under me. "Where am I?"

"Bedroom. You fell asleep. I brought you back here, so you'd be more comfortable. But we're about to land." He throws my arm around his neck. "C'mon I'll carry you to the front."

In no time we're touching down in Seattle, but of course Christian doesn't let my feet do the same, he carts me to the SUV. I goggle at the lights dancing, and dotting the skyline. "Seattle, it's beginning to feel like home." Reflecting on my impending move, I press my forehead on the window. "For a while anyway," I say.

He caresses my hand. "Remind me again, how long is your Doctoral program?"

I shift in my seatbelt. "Are we going to litigate the business thing again.'"

"No."

"Two years, but I'm aiming to complete it in one, but most likely it will be 18 months."

"I'm hanging my hopes on one. I'll get you tutors if necessary, I can't be without you for that long."

I zone in on him, his gray eyes are so intense, they're penetrating the darkness. "Do you realize that part of your responsibility as the commencement speaker is to help present the degrees?"

"Yes, and you just figured this out."

"No. I don't know. It just hit me. How am I supposed to react to you?"

"The same way you would anyone else."

"Impossible. How do I stay calm, when the girls around me are going mad?"

"Anastasia, it's a graduation not a rock concert people will be more contained." The glow of the full moon lights the inside of the car, and for a split second a twinkle in his eyes is fully visible. "Trust me. You don't have to worry it will work out," he says.


I open my eyes, Christian isn't entwined around me like Ivey, or trying to pry my legs apart so stretch out, and I grimace. Downplaying the tenderness, I roll on my side, and spot a piece of paper on the bedside table. Carefully, I draw myself up, mindful of the subtle ache between my thighs, and I reach for it.

Good morning my stiletto I only wear them because of you, I won't start my own company, I'm too tired, I'm too fat, all the women around you are beautiful, I hate Sam, and oh yeah the others too girlfriend.

Throwing my head back, I laugh uncontrollably at his silliness. It's a side of Christian I wish I could bottle, and pull out when he's unrecognizable.

Don't be alarmed, I'm not there, but you're with me. You were sleeping so peacefully; I didn't have the heart to wake you. Be on alert Mia and mom are lurking, they want a raincheck for yesterday. I tried to pressure them to leave you alone with tales of how tired you were, but they wouldn't relent. However, if you're too exhausted please don't feel obligated to say yes. Call me when you're awake. I need to hear your voice, and you need to hear mine. C .

Smiling I set the stationary back on the table, and my phone beeps. hastily, I retrieve it disturbing the note they're so close. "Hello," I croak, unable to remove the sleep from my throat in time. I'm disappointed it's not Christian, but my other favorite billionaire will do. "Good morning Damien."

"Drop the innocent act, I read you all wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"You snagged Christian Grey." There's silence on my end. "You can't deny it; I have the proof."

"What proof."

"Don't be coy, I'm not part of the slow media. Some high-powered equipment, a crackerjack engineer, and in 10 seconds I'd uncovered your identity."

"If you suspected me, you could've called."

"I had no idea it was you. Didn't know he had a love interest. Frankly, I had no idea the man had a heart."

"Damien."

"Don't play his protector, I'm well acquainted with Christian Grey, we go way back."

"Really."

"Christian, Gideon, and I had the misfortune of being born extremely handsome-"

I chime in. "And humble."

"I'd hold my tongue if I were you."

"Hear that? It's me zipping my mouth shut."

"You, with Christian Grey, I'm not seeing it- you have a sense of humor," he says. "But the long and short of the story, we launched our careers at roughly the same time. The business community was eager to crown their next corporate superstar, and they found him in the three of us- good-looking, young, and hungry entrepreneurs anxious to pave a new path. We were a marketing dream. Quickly the press saddled us with the moniker the Golden Boys of Business, and because of our youth, and cockiness we believed the hype and formed a friendship. But in the end, our relationship proved to be more transactional than transformative. When our careers exploded into fledgling empires, our egos grew, and soon we drifted apart. Grey was the first to launch his company, thus he was the first to catapult to the top, and the first to distance himself."

"This is news to me, and I've done extensive research into Grey Enterprises- "

"It was a long time ago, and short lived. It didn't warrant being captured in the history books. Ask Grey-"

"Damien, I have a call waiting." I pull the phone down, and have to study the screen. "I need to take this."

"Sure. One more thing. Real reason for call. Can't make graduation." The words tumble out of his mouth.

"Okay. Kate. Really wants an interview," I say just as quickly

"Have her call me after graduation."

"Great." I end the call, but when I click over the, waiting caller is gone. Just as I wondered what he wanted, his names reappear on the screen.

"Ana. It's been a long time."

"What do you want Jose?"

"To apologize." A resentment I didn't realize I'd been harboring surfaces, I'm forced to recall the sound advice of a charlatan.

"Jose, I hope you understand that I will forgive you, but we can't have any type of relationship. After you'd attacked me, I'd spent the months following blaming myself. Doubting myself. Questioning why you were going out of your way to avoid me when you were the guilty party. I blamed myself for everything. Finally, I'm in a good place. I'm not carrying that burden or guilt anymore.

"It's why I called. You deserve the truth. Believe me, I wish I didn't have to make this call, but you're the only person that can help me. I really want to go my graduation. Not for me, but for pappi"

"Go. I won't say anything to Mr. Rodriguez."

"It's not you I'm afraid of." He pauses. "It's Mr. Grey."

"Christian?"

"Yes."

I'm drained when I hang up from Jose. I sit with my thoughts before rushing to GEH and strangling that boyfriend of mine. After a few minutes, Kates invades my troubled mind. I decide to call her, sharing positive news is just the thing to change my mood.


Kate POV

"Why are you whispering?"

Cautiously, I throw the sheet back, and sneak out of bed. When I'm standing I tiptoe to the bathroom. "There is that better?" I say as I tap the door to the frame.

"It is. But you're not fooling me, you're not alone. Guess I don't have to ask how's Hawaii."

"Hawaii, is Hawaii. And yes I'm having fun. I don't have a boyfriend I'm allowed"

"Kate chill, I wasn't making a judgment. I'm kinda jealous."

"Why? You have your dream man."

"Okay. I'm not sure what's with the snippiness. So, before this conversation takes a turn to the unnecessary, I'm just going to get to it. Damien Stark is going to grant you an exclusive interview. He said to call his office after graduation."

I cover my mouth choking back my excitement. "Awesome. Thank you. What fairy dust did you sprinkle on him?"

She giggles, and just like that I'm forgiven. "I asked."

"I owe you one. This interview may garner me a promotion on my first day."

"Or the first of many Pulitzers."

"Don't get crazy," quietly I chuckle. " Hey, before we hang up let me apologize."

"We're good Kate, we're all under some kind of stress."

I sit back on the edge of the sink. "What has that asshole done now?"

"Kate, I called with good news, let's leave it at that. You're on your vacation. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Christian is great."

"If you say so. Take care of yourself. We'll talk later." Ending the call, I inch the door back, and tiptoe through the crack.

"How's Ana."

"Ugh." My hand flies up covering my heart. "You scared me. I thought you were asleep."

"How. Is. Ana?" Blankly, I stare at him. "That was Ana. Right?"

My hand slips from my chest, and I glance at the phone. "Yes."

"Is something wrong?"

"You're off duty. We're in this oasis. In a hotel room alone. And you want to talk about her?" I comb my hand through my hair. "Ana, is perfectly fine. And if she wasn't she has Christian. Who do you have?" I stomp up to him, smash the phone in the middle of his chest plate, and hold it there. "If you don't trust me, call her your damn self!" Storming past him, I bump his shoulder. There's a thump on the floor, and his hand catches my wrist.

He almost yanks my arm out of the socket, and I collide with his muscular chest. He squeezes my head between his hands, and astounding me he crushes his mouth to mine. His tongue forces a seam between my lips and penetrates my mouth. He thrusts it deeper down my throat, and tripping over my phone, we stagger off balance as he shoves me up against the bathroom door, slamming it closed. The desperation in his kiss pins me to the floor

Luke withdraws, but I pull him in, biting his bottom lip, sucking his tongue, intensifying his prior fervor. Spiking the temperature on the fire fueling his rage, I weave my arms under his shoulder blades, crushing his body to mine, granting him the permission to engulf me in his flames.