Christian lied to me. Just when he said there could be no lies in our relationship, that we should be honest with each other. Apparently that doesn't apply to him. Only to me. I leave the room ready to ask him for an explanation. Because there must be an explanation for the bed being unmade. And the only one is that he slept there and then came and lay down next to me. But why would he lied on me. What's in it for him? Besides lying to himself, and to me. Doesn't he care about my feelings?

By the time I get to the living room, I'm kind of furious. If he thinks I'm not going to say anything, he's wrong. I'm going to demand an explanation and he's going to have to come clean. I walk in his direction, he's on the phone talking to someone with his back to me. He turns when he feels my footsteps and looks at me very seriously.

—All right, we'll do that. —someone speaks to him on the other end as I frown, I have no idea who he's talking to. —Yes, I think you could do it here. —he pauses again. —Yes, she's already here. —he says to whoever is on the other end of the line, who he seems to be talking to about me. —All right, I'll see you in a bit. —and he hangs up.

He stares at the expression on my face for a moment. But I don't let him speak as I stop in front of him.

—I thought we said no lies, that we were honest with each other. —I look him in the eyes.

—Ana. What happened?

—You blatantly lied to me! —I say, punching him in the chest.

—You can calm down and explain to me what's wrong. —he holds my hands, but without forcing them.

—It happens that you never slept with me, but why pretend, why not tell me the truth. That's what I want to understand.

—Who told you I didn't sleep with you? —he asks, frowning.

—You think I'm an idiot, don't you? —I move my hands away from his touch.

It's better that he doesn't touch me while we're having this conversation, as his touch might make me forget everything I have to tell him.

—On the contrary, I think you are a very intelligent woman.

—Then don't test my intelligence, because I just saw the bed in the guest room completely disarranged. —I shout at him, pointing to the room. Christian smiles slightly at me.

—I think there's a perfectly logical explanation for that.

—Yes, that you slept there last night and changed next to me in the morning.

—I think there's a more reasonable explanation than this crazy story you're telling.

—Now I'm crazy! —I scream at him.

I don't know how long I can stand it without slapping him so he'll confess.

—That's not what I meant. —he runs a hand through his messy hair. —Why don't we talk later, we should...

—Bullshit! —he's not going to put this conversation off for another second.

Which brings me back to this morning in and out of the shower.

—Why didn't you want to touch me this morning? Why didn't you let me give you pleasure?

—Ana, this is not the time for this conversation, we must prepare...

—Answer me, damn it! —I approach him and hit him again in the chest— I need an answer! —I scream desperately hitting him again and again. —Why haven't you ever let me pleasure you?

—Because I lose control! —he yells at me as I open my eyes at his answer and suddenly recoil as if his body burns my hands. —I lose control when you touch me or when your mouth is on that part of my body.

I didn't expect this answer. It makes sense, though. That's why he has never let me masturbate him, in any way. He has let me touch him, but not for very long. And the one time I had him in my mouth I was tied up, so that one doesn't count. He was in complete control.

—We'll talk about this later, the magazine people are on their way.

I push thoughts of the recent discovery out of my mind and concentrate on what he just said.

—I beg your pardon?

—They had a problem with the place where they were going to do the photo shoot and the interview. They talked about postponing it until they found another place, but I offered them my gym and they were delighted to meet where the former champion lives. —he answers me with a smile.

The reason for my anger has just been forgotten. This is much more important.

—Men fitness is coming this way! —I exclaim as I run into the kitchen.

I start looking everywhere. I have to prepare some snacks. I open the fridge and peek inside, and stop when I feel Christian laughing behind me.

—What are you doing? —he answers with a laugh.

—You've gone crazy! How could you tell them to come here? We have to prepare some appetizers and tidy up the apartment and...

—Ana, stop it. —he grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a little shake.

When my body stops moving, my eyes focus on his carefree face. Why isn't he worried? He gives me a smile.

—Someone is already taking care of tidying up the apartment.

—What?

—I mentioned I have a housekeeper, right? —he says as he leads me over to the couch and makes me sit down before doing the same next to me.

I shake my head. I don't remember him mentioning it to me, if he did, I forgot.

—She's tidying up the rooms, today is laundry day, she must be changing the bedding.

Changing the bedding? That would be a good explanation for the messy bed I saw earlier. Now I regret the scandal I made for him. He had a more logical explanation.

—Can I meet her?

—Sure, let me call her. Elizabeth! —he gives a shout that echoes through the apartment. —You can get to the kitchen.

A few seconds later I feel footsteps approaching down the hall. Every second they echo closer until I see a middle—aged woman with short black hair appear down the hallway, smiling at me as she stops in front of us.

—Is that her? —she asks, looking at Christian as he stands up and pulls my hands to do the same.

—Yes, this is Ana. —he answers with a smile.

—Nice to meet you, Christian keeps talking about you, I couldn't wait to meet you.

—Nice to meet you. —I answer as I hold out my hand, but she pulls me into a tight embrace that leaves me momentarily breathless.

—We have visitors arriving in about thirty minutes for an interview, we'll need some snacks, coffee, water and everything tidy in case they want a tour of the apartment.

—Everything will be ready, I'll get right on it. —she answers with a smile as she walks off to the kitchen.

—Let's let her do her thing. —he says, pulling me out of the kitchen and leading me to the gym.

I look back and see Elizabeth in the kitchen. There's no way she's going to have everything ready in half an hour, but I don't even say anything. When we pass the guest room, the door is closed, but I bet the sheets are changed just like the ones in Christian's room. We enter the gym and I see him head toward a closet in the back while I sit on a bench. He comes back with a bag that he drops in front of me and then bends down to open it and pull out whatever is inside.

—I'm sorry. —I tell him as he stops opening the bag and looks up at me.

—We'll talk later. Let's get ready for the interview.

He opens the bag and begins to take things out of it, placing them on the bench next to me. He takes out some red and silver bandages and gloves. He takes out blue shorts with silver stripes on the sides and a blue sweatshirt with a wolf on the back. A wolf similar to the one on his tattoo.

—A wolf?

—The gray wolf.

—The gray wolf? —he finishes taking off the pads and looks at me, still crouched next to me.

—You like kick boxing and you don't know how I was told.

—I actually practice it as a defense method, I'm not a fan of the professionals.

—Really? You've never been to a fight? —I shake my head. —Hum, we'll have to do something about that.

—You're taking me to an MMA fight?

—Let's see what I can do.

He gets up from the floor and without taking his eyes off me starts to undo his jeans, very, very slowly. And I can't move as I have my gaze locked on his hands slowly undoing the jeans and sliding them down his waist. I don't miss the movement of the jeans falling to the floor. Nor do I miss his thumbs sliding down the elastic of the black boxers.

My anger from earlier is forgotten. Right now all I can think about is the feel of his hands on my body.

—When we are alone. —he says in a husky voice as I look up and lose myself in his suddenly darkened gaze. —We are going to talk. —he takes off his tight T—shirt and my eyes automatically go to his abs, which tighten under my scrutinizing gaze. —And then we're going to have a little physical exchange.

And the muscles below my waist tighten in anticipation of what he is promising me. It's the first time he's used the words physical exchange and I don't know exactly what he means.

—Will you give me an orgasm? —he smiles at me before putting on his shorts.

—Don't doubt it for a second.