Hopefully I won't be so long with the next chapter, I'm back to at least 80 percent of my capabilities...Enjoy this chapter and leave me your comments.BirdsandStars

Christian finishes getting dressed and starts warming up while I watch him intently sitting on the bench. Watching him warm up makes me start to get hot and I don't think that's very wise right now. So I think I'd better go outside and see what I can do to help Elizabeth.

—I thought you liked watching me train.

—I do, but watching you warming up, makes me hotter too, even hotter than I've been since this morning and I don't think you're going to be able to turn my heat down right now. —I tell him as I turn on my heels and walk out of the gym leaving Christian stunned with my answer.

Serves him right, let's see what he does with that.

Elizabeth is in the kitchen busy getting everything ready for the interview.

—Can I help you with anything? —I ask her when I see that I have nothing to do.

—You can help me carry all this stuff into the living room. —she points to the things and I start helping her.

From the trust Christian has with her, I imagine they must have known each other for a long time. Although he just moved in not too long ago. And without meaning to, the question slips between my lips.

—Have you known Christian for a long time? —I ask casually as I help her carry things into the living room.

—Almost six years.

—Have you always been his housekeeper? — I already know the answer to that question.

—No. —she answers with a smile. —I work at his mother's house.

—You don't work there anymore?

—Oh yes, I come once a week to do the housework and stock his refrigerator.

I don't know what else to say. In the other apartment he didn't have a housekeeper and he did everything. He even cooked. So this is new. Why does he need a housekeeper here? I don't understand. On the other hand, if she's known him for 6 years, that's before the accident. So she must know his ex-wife.

—I need to finish organizing the bedrooms. —And without further ado she leaves me in the middle of the room with a million questions that need answers.

And I'm not going to find the answers by searching the web. The Internet doesn't tell me much about what really happened. About his accident, that's what I'd most like to know. How it happened. I stare at the screen of my phone, which doesn't give me any useful information.

—Are you investigating anything in particular? —his voice over my shoulder, causing the phone to shake in my hands and fall to the floor.

—Shit, Christian, you scared me! —I yell at him as I pick up the phone from the floor and check that nothing has happened to it. —Don't you know about privacy?

—You know you can ask me anything you want, right?

Christian circles the couch and sits next to me as he pushes a strand of hair away from my face. I lose myself in his gaze. And as I do, I'm one hundred percent sure he saw what I was looking for on the phone.

—How did the accident happen? —I need to know in order to decipher the mystery that is this man.

—Your investigation didn't turn up any results?

—My research doesn't tell me what I need to know.

Just then the phone rings, Elizabeth answers it and then I feel her footsteps walking in our direction.

—They're on their way up. —that's all she says as she retreats to the kitchen again.

—We'll talk later, I promise. —and he gets up and heads for the door. To welcome the guests.

I stand up and follow him. Once the door is open, he greets the journalist and the photographer.

—Welcome. —he says as he shakes their hands and I do the same.

—Thank you for offering us your apartment for the interview. If it's okay with you, we can do the interview here in the living room and then the photo session in the gym.

—Very well, Ana can guide you to the gym so you can take the equipment there. —he says as he stares at me.

—If you follow me, I'll take you to the gym. —I tell the helpers who are carrying the equipment and lead them to the gym.

And I stand there while I watch them quickly set up the photo studio for the photo shoot.

—Can I get you anything? Beer, juice, a snack.

—Juice, we can't drink when we work.

—Right away. —I get out of there and head for the kitchen.

I take a pitcher of juice out of the fridge, get some glasses and put everything on a tray.

—What are you doing? —Elizabeth asks behind me.

—I'm taking something to drink to the helpers in the studio.

—I'll take care of that, go to Christian, I think he'll need your support, he hasn't been interviewed for a long time and he must be nervous. —she takes the tray from my hand and disappears.

Christian, nervous. It would be the first time he's ever been nervous. I head into the room where they are finishing setting up the camera on a tripod to start the interview. Christian is not there.

—Were you looking for me? —he whispers behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder and hugging me from behind.

—Where were you? —I ask, intertwining my hands with his on my belly.

—Changing clothes for the interview. I thought the interview would be a normal interview, you know without cameras. Just a reporter asking questions and recording my answers. But I didn't expect this.

—I imagine an interview of yours must have caused quite a stir for them to have brought out all the heavy weaponry.

—I guess so.

—Whenever you want to start, Christian. —the journalist shouts at him from the living room without turning to us.

—Come with me. —he says, separating from me but still with one of his hands intertwined with mine.

Christian's hair is a mess, as if he's been running his hands nervously through it. He's wearing a white T-shirt and worn-out jeans, no shoes. He looks exactly the way I like him. Fiendishly sexy.

As he tugs lightly on my hand, I don't object to him leading me toward the room where he'll be interviewed. The journalist is sitting at one end of the 4-seater sofa while she has one leg crossed over the other and flips through several papers in her hands.

—Where do I sit? —he asks her.

—At the other end of the sofa. —she answers him while looking at him slightly hypnotized.

I don't blame her, I look at him that way too and I am aware that all women look at him the same way.

—I'm sorry I asked. —I turn to the journalist making her stop looking at him and turn to me as I let go of Christian's hand, I don't think I should be in the interview. — But is it normal for them to use a camera for a magazine interview?

—Normally no, but we're talking about "The Gray Wolf", a legend in MMA, we couldn't settle for a simple interview and a few photos. It's not every day that we have to do an interview with a former champion, who is in good physical shape.

I watch Christian shift uncomfortably on the couch as the camera points at him. Behind him, the amazing view offered by the panoramic windows of New York City. On the small table in front of them, there is a bottle of water and a glass for each of them.

I sit in an armchair while they start the interview. And I can only pay attention to Christian who answers each question calmly. But I can see him move his foot on the floor slightly. He is nervous. The first questions are about the sport, the number of awards, why he retired so young. His accident. Every now and then he pauses and drinks water, and looks in my direction. As the interview progresses the photographer takes several pictures of him sitting there.

—As we can see you are in good physical shape. Do you plan to return to the sport? —very interesting question.

—I don't think so. Even though I continue to practice the sport I am not at 100 percent of my capacity. And for a competition you have to be at 100 percent of your capabilities.

—But would you be willing to participate in a veterans' tournament?

—We'll see. —he answers with a smile.

—That's not a no?

Christian just smiles broadly at her. Is he thinking about an MMA competition?

—Well, let's at least hope for a veteran's exhibition tournament sometime soon. But let's talk about a much more interesting topic. How is Christian Grey doing in love? We know you got divorced a few months ago. Any Mrs. Grey in the future?

—I don't like to talk about my private life. —he pauses and looks at me briefly. —But I'll make an exception. I'm in a relationship at the moment, I haven't thought about the future, only the present, that's the only important thing. Live every moment as if it were the last.

—Sage advice. Now how about we see you in action and you show the thousands of fans, who I know still admire you, the physical shape you are in.

—That's fine with me. —Christian smiles at her while she signals the cameraman to stop filming.

—That was excellent Christian, we can film you training for a while and then we'll do a photo shoot.

—I'll go change then. —Christian gets up and goes to the bedroom to change again.

I get up from the couch ready to go get the snack Elizabeth prepared, but I'm surprised to see her coming in our direction with a tray in her hand.

Fifteen minutes later I'm leading the way to the gym. Christian has already changed and looks like a pro. A light layer of sweat covers his bare torso as he jumps the rope as fast as he can. As soon as he notices us. He stops what he is doing.

—Don't stop, just train like you normally do. We'll do the rest.

And so he does. He puts down the rope and puts on his gloves to start hitting the bag. Watching him hit the bag reminds me of the way he likes to fuck. Hard. And that alone makes my belly tighten in anticipation of the promise he made me this morning.

The cameraman films him as he trains relentlessly. And also the photographer starts snapping a few shots.

I imagine this is what he must have looked like when he was still competing. Surrounded by cameras, journalists. I imagine hundreds of fans, thousands of admirers. And womens. And I imagine everything changed drastically in his life with the publication of this magazine.

Christian stops punching the bag, takes off his gloves leaving them on the floor and grabs a bottle of water as he heads to the set they have prepared to take the cover photos. He stops where he is directed and slowly uncaps the water bottle. I stand behind the photographer as he begins to work his magic.

Christian stares at me or the photographer, I don't know. His gaze is intense and sexy as he begins to drink the water letting it drip down his body a little and after several gulps he drops the rest over his head. He tosses the empty bottle aside and then shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair to mess it up even more. And smiles at me.

Mmmm, that was exciting.

After that he strikes several poses showing off his muscles. Others throwing punches in the air, and others throwing kicks. Also on his back with his sweatshirt showing the wolf.

He takes off his sweatshirt and puts on a black tank top and starts taking the wraps off his hands. And as he entangles the wrap in his other hand, he stares at me while twisting the wrap slightly.

I feel the wetness between my legs and squeeze them lightly. He smiles at me. He knows me well, he knows what I'm thinking as I watch him twist the wrap in his hands. He finishes with one and starts with the other without taking his burning gaze off me. And my perverted mind begins to imagine scenarios where he uses them again to subdue me.

—I think we're done with those. —says the photographer as he leaves the camera on the tripod.

And I come back to reality, away from my fantasies and look away from the Wolf's blue eyes.

The assistants start to gather all the equipment while Christian walks in my direction and stops very close to me. I can see his intent in his eyes. He wants to pull me into his arms and kiss me senseless.

—What did you think of the photo shoot? —he asks me cordially as he watches the equipment being picked up.

—I've never been on a photo shoot before, but it was interesting.

—Interesting? —he asks, looking at me now, raising an eyebrow.

—You were great Christian. —the journalist interrupts us. —When the publication comes out, you'll have the paparazzi at your door again. And I imagine the women will be too. —she says with a knowing smile while holding on to his forearm.

—I think I can manage. —he says as he pats her hand and gives her a rapturous smile.

And something inside me stirs. I don't know what it is. I've never been jealous of anyone. And when I say no one, I mean no one. My old boyfriends, they were no big deal, I never had reason to be jealous of them.

But I think I'm on another level here.

As I watch the journalist holding onto his forearm and him smiling at her like that, with the smile that disarms women, I feel a great fury growing inside me. It is a strange and unfamiliar, new sensation. It's like a fire that burns inside me and spreads throughout my body. I frown, avert my gaze from them and look down at my feet, and then I realize, without even realizing it, I am clenching my fists tightly.

I open my hands and try to move away from the two of them, but Christian puts a hand on my shoulder.

—Do you think you can help me with something? —he asks, stopping me.

The journalist has moved away from him and is gathering her things. I don't answer him, I just nod as I stand there watching, together with Christian, as they finish packing up and leave. We walk them to the door.

—I would like a copy of the documentary and the photos.

—We'll get it to you as soon as we have it ready.

—Okay. —there's that damn smile again that makes my legs tremble and my inner muscles twist.

As soon as the last person leaves, Christian closes the door.

—It's been a bit of a tiring morning, don't you think? —he puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me down onto the couch and I fall onto him.

Christian doesn't let go. He has his arms and legs in a vice grip on my body. I can barely move.

—Can you let go?

—Don't think for a second that I didn't notice your reaction.

—My reaction? —I decided to play dumb.

—Your reaction when she touched me, and when I smiled at her.

—I don't know what you're talking about. —Christian lets go of me and helps me sit up next to him.

I stare at him and he at me.

—Yes you do, Ana. You were jealous.

—I've never been jealous of anyone. Why would I be?

—Because you're in love with me.

Funny that he should bring this up when I don't even know if he still feels the same way about me. I think there's an interesting conversation coming up. One where he will have to confess his feelings for me, if he still has them. Or what he expects from this relationship.

We need to get to a point here. One where we both benefit from each other and not just with sex. Our relationship has to go far beyond that sexual connection we have. Far beyond that primal desire that controls us when we are alone and staring at each other.

Is it too much to ask for my feelings to be reciprocated?

I think after all he has shown me and taught me, I at least deserve some of his love.

I think so.