Lithium Flood Chapter 2: Jealous, a fifty shades trilogy fanfic

Jealous

The universe, simply put, is a vast network of galaxies and planets and moons and stars. Stars that vary in size and in brightness and in distance and in mystery. On clear nights like tonight, a warm September evening, the stars in the sky were most visible from the balcony of their penthouse.

Ana watched the stars as they danced in the moonlight. They twinkled, promising wishes to optimistic believers and dreamers. To many they were a sign of hope, but to her, from her castle in the sky, they signified the passage of time. Another day gone, another lonely night.

The timer on the stove beeped, breaking the spell the night sky cast upon her. The macaroni and cheese smelled divine; too bad it would go to waste.

She laughed bitterly as she drained her glass. The honey colored liquid didn't even burn going down anymore. In truth, she felt nothing but rage.

Rage for the hours she spent in the kitchen preparing all his favorite foods. Rage for the red lace La Perla bra and panties set that she wore while she cooked for him. Red; the same color of the dress she had on when they first met. Red; the hue that currently color her world.

Anastasia took one last look up at the night sky and whispered, "the second star on the right and straight on til morning." Only this time, Christian, her own person Peter Pan, wouldn't be there to guide her. Now, Christian was the star. He was the thing that the dreamers and believers looked to for guidance and for hope.

His music, the band, the whole Lithium universe was vast and important and bigger than any of them could have ever imagined. They had a platinum album and the number record in the country. A song he'd written about her, their love story.

The band had been on tour for six months. Six long months and it was finally over. He was supposed to be home. They were supposed to be making love under the stars. He promised to take her on the balcony the moment he crossed the threshold of the apartment they shared. It's the reason she put on the ridiculous lingerie in the first place.

Beep!

She turned to go back inside. The timer's incessant wailing taunted her. The noise grated on what was left of her patience and shredded the last bit of self-confidence she possessed.

Beep! He's stood you up.

Beep! You look like a fool.

Beep! You'll always come second.

Beep! He doesn't love you anymore.

Beep!

"SHUT UP!" Ana yelled, smashing the off button. She yanked the pot holders from the hook above the stove and pulled open the oven door, throwing the casserole dish into the trash. Next went the filets, then the lobster, and then asparagus.

She spent her day going from the butcher, to the fish monger, and then finally to the farmers' market, gathering the freshest ingredients she could find. She even stopped and got a bottle Macallan Rare Cask, the best whiskey she could find, to celebrate his return.

Never mind she drunk half of it while she waited. Never mind she was planning to finish it while she ate the chocolate cake she had his mother show her how to make because it was his favorite. Never mind it was her fucking birthday.

She dedicated her day to welcoming him back home and he couldn't even bother to call. No, he sent text message. Some half-assed apology about some last-minute meeting with the label.

Well fuck that. She deserved better than that. She spent the last six months flying across the country at his beck and call. She'd played her part, never once complaining, never once nagging and he couldn't even make it home in time for her fucking birthday.

"Happy birthday to me," she grunted, wrapping her hands around the whiskey bottle. She was pathetic, celebrating her twenty-seventh year on this planet half drunk, semi-nude, and totally alone.

Ana made her way through their top floor penthouse, the one he bought for them to live in together. She vowed not to let his absence ruin what was left of her special day.

Her cell phone was lying on the bed, she left it there to prevent herself from sending her rock star boyfriend a string of profane text messages. Messages like, since you couldn't bother to call me on my birthday, don't bother coming home. And I hate you, you inconsiderate piece of shit.

Picking the phone up, she noticed a new text from Christian:

Peter Pan:

I'm so sorry baby. I didn't think this would take this long. I swear I'll make it up to you when I get home.

She sneered at the screen. How many times had she heard that one before. Ana tossed the phone back on the bed and headed to the walk-in, she needed to get dressed because she was going out.

Their clothes were aligned neatly, his on the left and hers on the right. She stopped, glancing over her shoulder at the racks of skinny jeans and distressed tees. Seeing his things there, untouched for so long, made something in her snap. "Fucking hipster asshole," she mumbled , striding over to his side of the closet.

She pulled a Lithium Springs hoodie down from the hanger and tossed it onto the floor. It felt good, so good that she grabbed another, this time his prized Nirvana Tour shirt he'd won in an Ebay bidding war. She ripped down piece after piece of his clothing until she was satisfied with her pile then she went and got a suitcase and stuffed it all inside.

Fuck him. She was done being sad and lonely. She wheeled the suitcase back into the bedroom and left it by the door. Then she retrieved her phone and sent a message to her two best friends, the only other people in the world who could understand what she was going through.

Ana:

I don't want to spend my birthday alone. Let's go out!

Kate:

I'm in!

Lizzie:

Heck yes!

She smiled, her first genuine smile of the day and headed back into the closet in search of the tiniest dress she could find.

The downtown night club was packed. Energy pulsated through the near capacity crowd like a healing balm, temporarily relieving the pain and embarrassment of being forgotten on her birthday.

"It's a zoo in here," Kate, her blonde best friend, ex-roommate yelled over the music. Kate was lucky, Ryder, the bands lead singer, would never miss her birthday.

"I know. It's perfect," Ana said with a grin because it was perfect. It was too loud to think and too crowded to be self-conscious, just what the doctor ordered.

"Ok birthday girl," Lizzie, Christian's cousin and girlfriend of Lithium Springs drummer, Jose, shouted, "would you rather drink or dance?"

Anastasia took a quick assessment of body, Her lips tingled with numbness, a side effect of the whiskey she already drank. A combination of tear and alcohol induced fog blurred her vision, and warmth radiated from her skin. A warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the packed club. She was drunk and she'd been let down more times in the last six months that she could count on both hands. There was only one thing that would make her feel better, "let's dance!" she shouted.

Lizzie and Kate nodded their agreement and the three women linked hands and pushed their way onto the dance floor. Kate lead them past the hoard of sweaty bodies to an open spot down in front. Normally, Ana would protest being so close to the speakers but tonight she relished the vibration.

The music was loud and the base relentless as a song Ana didn't recognize blared through the dance floor. Their bodies rocked and their hips swayed from side to side as music infiltrated their bones.

Her tiny t-shirt dress rode high up her thighs. Of course, she knew it was too short when she put it on, but that why she chose it. It wasn't anything special, a simple white dress that stopped just below her butt, paired with the highest pair of fuck me heels she owned, gray thigh high boots that laced up the front.

She almost put on the red dress, but it didn't look right with her lace bra and panties and she couldn't bring herself to take them off. Having them on fueled her rage, they were a constant reminder of her anger, and a secret fuck you to her boyfriend.

She was being spiteful, so spiteful that she had Kate take a picture of her before they left to send to Christian. The message that read, don't bother waiting up. After she hit send she tossed her phone on the coffee table and walked out the door.

Her chestnut hair clung to her damp skin. It long and wild, wavy, she looked like she'd been freshly fucked. She hadn't of course, but he didn't need to know that.

Her make-up was soft and neutral, her pink pouty lips parted ever so slightly as she threw her head back and screamed, her voice instantly swallowed up by the noisy club.

One song faded into another, and that one melted into the next as the women danced and laughed and celebrated life. She wasn't sure how long they were out on the dance floor but before long Lizzie draped her arms around her neck and pulled her close so she could speak," we're going to get a drink, you wanna come with?"

"No, I'll stay here. I wanna dance, but could you bring me back a beer?"

"Sure, thing birthday girl," Lizzie grinned before she and Kate disappeared into the crowd.

The song changed again, a medium tempo beat with a pounding drum line. Her fellow club goers erupted in cheers as the DJ spun a record from their current hometown heroes. Ana wrinkled her nose as Ryder's voice spilled though the speakers.

Sex god.

Wrap your legs around my waist

Let me lose control

Bury my head inside your warmth

Fuck you 'til you explode

When were done, you'll swear I touched your soul

Sex god

Wrap your legs around my waist

Let me lose control

Bury my head inside your warmth

Fuck you 'til you explode

When were done, you'll swear I touched your soul

Sex god.

To say she was annoyed would have been an understatement. The very person she was trying to forget had followed her here, to this club, on her birthday. It's like he was taunting her. Absent physically, but damn near omniscient in spirit.

But she wasn't going to let the ghost of her boyfriend sour the mood. She decided to join her friends at the bar, something stronger than beer would be needed to drive the image of those gray eyes out of her mind.

The crowd on the dance floor swelled to a unbelievable number, The Lithium affect, there were so many people thrashing about Ana feared she'd get swallowed up into a sea of drunken madness. Pushing forward she muttered apologies as she squeezed between a group of stumbling girls. The energy was electric, part of her was proud of her lost boys and their success, but a bigger part of her was irritated as hell.

She made it out of the pit and nearly halfway to the bar when someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She huffed and rolled her eyes, preparing to give whoever it was a piece of her mind. He picked the wrong girl, on the wrong night. The pent up rage she felt for Christian threatened to bubble up and spill all over the unsuspecting idiot who thought it was ok to touch her.

Turning, she opened her mouth to speak only no words came. The green eyes that met her blue rendered her temporarily speechless, "uh.. umm...I...can I have my hand back?" she stuttered. Her voice was a lot less forceful that she intended.

"Sorry," green eyes whispered, his mouth inches from her ear. "You're just so beautiful and I would never forgive myself if I let you walk pass me without telling you so."

"Uh, thanks," she muttered as her focus shifted down from his clear greens eyes, over his strong angular jaw, then on to his chest, a chest that even hidden under a blue oxford shirt she could tell he was muscular.

"Dance with me?" Green eyes asked. It was welcome change from her domineering boyfriend. Christian never asked, he only commanded. He took what he wanted, when he wanted and God help her but she wished it were him here with her instead.

"I shouldn't. Plus, this song," she said making a face. She wanted to add, more specifically, the stupid, selfish and inconsiderate drummer, but she refrained.

"You don't like Lithium Springs?" He questioned, his voice laced with genuine surprise.

"Not at the moment, no." She should have told him about Christian. The sober and rational angel on her right shoulder begged her to tell him that he didn't have a snowballs chance in hell, but the jaded and more than slightly drunk angel on her left screamed at her to flirt back.

"That's a first, I thought everyone in Seattle worshiped them."

She shrugged. Under normal circumstances she'd sing their praises, but not tonight.

"Well, dance with me anyway," he grinned, it was a wholesome, boy next door smile, that had the evil bitch on her left shoulder pushing her into his arms.

Ana looked at him as her subconscious debated, he was handsome and it was her birthday. She deserved one dance, didn't she? It wasn't like she was going to leave with him. "Fine, one dance," she finally agreed.

His face lit up as he wrapped her in his arms. His pace was slower than the music but she didn't mind. He was strong and warm. "So what's your name?"

She considered lying. She could be anyone she wanted, it wouldn't have mattered, but in the end, she went the truth. "Ana."

"Nice to meet you Ana, I'm Trey," he introduced as Sex God faded into the next song, another Lithium one of course.

"Again," she groaned, throwing her hands up.

"Ok I'll bite," Trey chuckled, pulling her back to his front, "why don't you like them?"

"It isn't that I don't like them, it's just... well, I'm sort of dating the drummer and today's my birthday and he kinda blew me off."

"I see," he said thoughtfully.

"I came here to get away from things that remind me of him and, it's like he's hell bent on ruining my night," she explained, pointing towards the speaker.

"Well I can't let that happen, now can I?"

Trey was sweet, the kind of guy she use to think she'd end up with. His eyes were kind, his touch soft, but the spark just wasn't there. "That's very kind of you but I should probably just go. thank you for the dance."

"Wait, at least let me buy you a birthday drink."

She looked at him, really looked at him, he seemed harmless enough, "You're not going to drug me are you?" A girl could never be too careful.

The kind, green eyed man grinned. "I hadn't planned on it, but you can come with me to the bar if it will make you feel better," he said unto her ear. His hand was on the small of her back, it was like he couldn't stop touching her.

She nodded. She was playing with fire and she wasn't even sure why. Sure, this man was handsome, nearly every woman in the vicinity was checking him out, but her wasn't hers. No one compared to Christian but he hurt her and it felt nice to have someone paying attention to her for once.

They made their way to the bar, Kate and Lizzie were nowhere to be found. She must have missed them. If only she didn't leave her phone back at the apartment she could have called, or texted, something to let them know she was ok.

"What's your poison?" He asked, pulling her into his side. His hand traveled down the side of her body stopping low on her thigh, his fingertip gazed her skin. The sensation was foreign, his touch didn't cause the same electricity as Christian's, but it was nice, safe.

"Whiskey," she replied. Her voice was breathy and flirty as she bit down on her bottom lip. Trey's eyes glazed over with lust and the sober angel screamed for her to get the heck out of there, fast.

"Whiskey it is." He smirked, turning to get the attention of the bartender.

Ana ran her fingers through her hair, lifting it off her neck. Sweat was dripping her back, the heat from the club was stiffing. Her head was spinning and suddenly she wasn't sure if shot was such a good idea.

"Maybe I'll just have water," she started to say, but before she could get Trey's attention, the familiar jolt of adrenaline coursed through her veins. A hand fisted into her hair, pulling her backwards. She knew it was him by the way her body reacted to his touch, but the purple Anastasia tattooed on his neck confirmed it. Christian was home, and judging by his face he was pissed.

A strong, tattooed covered arm wrapped around her throat and his lips came crashing down onto hers. He put on a show, licking his way into her mouth with sloppy and possessive kisses, practically fucking her mouth with his tongue. His grip on her hair tightened and his kiss intensified sending a rush of moisture flooding her panties.

"One shot of whiskey for the birth-" Trey began, but quickly stopped as soon as he saw the six foot two drummer with his arms possessively wrapped around Ana's petite frame. She could feel his eyes burning into them. She felt bad. He was nice to her and he didn't deserve this. Damn Christian and his damn devil dick. She hated the affect he had on her body. She was pissed at him but she also wanted nothing more than for him to rip her clothes off.

The drummer pulled away slightly, peppering tiny kisses all over her mouth and across her jaw before sinking his teeth into her earlobe. His eyes found Treys and in the most cocky and condescending voice she'd ever heard, he smirked, "I think she's good bro." Trey's face fell as Christian lace his fingers with Ana's and yanked from her spot at the bar. As they passed she heard her boyfriend sneer, "Have a good night douchbag."

Anastasia stumbled to keep up as he navigated them through the sea of partiers. He ducked his head down, doing his best to keep a low profile but people were starting to recognize him. Being the drummer had its perks, he wasn't as visible as their front man, Ryder, but his face, the one that looked like it was chiseled from granite, was hard to miss.

"I need to tell Kate and Lizzie I'm leaving," Ana said, pulling from his grasp.

"There're fine, Ry and J got 'em," he explained, "but, baby you need you to walk faster."

"If I go any faster my ass will be hanging out," she bit, tugging at the hem of her dress.

"No one told you to wear that shit," he growled, shouldering past the drunk couple making out near the rear exit.

"You're not even supposed to be here."

"Neither are you. You're supposed be home."

How dare he barge in here and piss all over her fun. He had all day to show up and he neglected her. There was no way in hell she was going to spend forever sitting at home waiting for him to give a damn. "I got sick of waiting for my alleged boyfriend."

"Alleged?" He questioned busting through the door. There was a black stretch limo parked outside, a man in a black suit stood beside it with the door open wide. Christian all but threw her into the waiting car then slid in next to her.

"Watch it asshole," she grit, sliding down the black leather seat as far away from him as she could get. There was bar to the right, fully stocked with all the ingredients she needed to calm the rage fueled lust that coursed through her body.

"Careful, Anastasia. I'm this close to losing my shit," he warned holding is index finger and thumb an inch apart.

"You?" she huffed with indignation, "you're not the one who had to spend their birthday alone. I flew to bum-fuck Egypt and blew you in the back of a tour bus and you couldn't bother to come the fuck home."

"What was I supposed to do? Blow off the meeting? It isn't just me babe, there's three of us and Jose and Ryder don't have trust funds to fall back on."

The car lurched forward as the driver pulled into traffic. Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest, watching as the city passed by, a blur of darkness and light. "It's fine. Trey took great care of me." She knew she sound like a spoiled brat, but he could have called.

Christian inhaled roughly, mashing the intercom button, "Taylor," he barked.

"Yes, Mr. Grey?"

"Can you roll up the partition please? I need a minute alone with my girl."

"Yes, sir."

Ana gulped as she watched the driver's head slowly disappear behind the tinted glass. Gray eyes burned a hole into her soul. His jaw ticked with barely concealed anger but she did her best to appear unbothered. Hell, she was unbothered, fuck him and his temper tantrum. He was getting a taste of his own medicine.

"Bring your little ass over here, now," he growled. His voice strained as he struggled to compose himself. He was a ticking time bomb, a live grenade.

"Fuck you."

"Is this what you want?" he sank to his knees, crawling towards her. "You want me to beg?" The stretch limo suddenly felt like a Mini Coop. The walls were closing on her. The air was thick with anger and hatred and lust. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, but she stood her ground. She didn't come this far to back down now.

"I wanted you to come home for dinner," she bit. The words bitter on her tongue. The day was supposed to be joyous, a celebration, but here in the dimly lit limo she felt jaded.

"I told you I was sorry. I didn't have a choice."

"You should have called."

"You should have waited for me." He countered, kissing her knees. He was infuriating, and completely unaware of how his absence made her feel. "You belong to me," he said forcing her legs apart. "this his mine," he whispered against the lace covering her sex. "That cornball wouldn't even know what to do with this."

"He was there for me, when you weren't," she breathed. How long had it since he'd kissed her there?

"Is that why you let him put his fucking hands on you?" His fingers ghosted up her legs, lifting one at a time and draping them over his shoulders. He bit the sensitive spots to the right and left of her core, teasing her, torturing her.

"We danced. He bought me a drink. That's it," She explained. Her head fell back against the seat. She was giving in to her punishment. Her rage was still there, the angry drunk angel stomped her foot in protest, but her desire for the man on his knees before her was too strong.

"That's it? That all it was?" His sensual interrogation almost complete.

"Yes," she was writhing, desperate for him to make contact.

"Did you want him to fuck you?" His fingers tugged at the lace barrier between his mouth and her wetness.

"No," she yelled out. Her hips buckled, she was desperate to feel his hands, his lips, his tongue against her velvety flesh. "I want you to fuck me. It's all I want. It's all I ever want."

"Whose pussy is this?" he murmured against her clit. His voice sent vibrations up her body. Pushing her panties aside, Christian lapped at her entrance. A low rumble of satisfaction ripped from his throat. He wasn't as in control as he wanted her to believe.

"It's yours," she moaned, tilting her hips up to meet his mouth.

"Who does your heart belong to?"

"You, forever."

"Don't ever fucking forget it." His voice was low, measured, "you're mine baby, mine." He growled, yanking her down to her knees. They were chest to chest, nose to nose, the heat between them could melt a glacier He wrapped his hands around her neck forcing her to look at him. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I should have called, but I'm not letting you off the hook for the shit you pulled tonight. I'm going to fuck you, hard, right here in the back of this limo. I'm going to take all my anger out on your body and you better take your's out on mine because once we leave this car it's back to CT and Ana. No more pouting. No more shit talking."

She nodded, tugging his bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth. She bit down hard and didn't let go until she tasted blood.

He chuckled softly, wiping his lip with the back of his hand before pushing her down onto the seat, "ass up baby," he commanded. She did as she was told, lifting her butt high in the air. Her dress rode up, exposing her fuck you thong.

"Are these new?" he asked finger the lace.

"Yes," she sighed, the faint sound of his zipper lowering rendered her breathless. "A birthday present to myself."

"A shame," he tks'd , snatching the lace from her body, the fabric dug into her hips before finally giving way to the pressure.

"Hey! That hurt," she yelped, forcing her hips back into his groin.

"It was supposed to," he grunted, penetrating her without warning. The impact was so strong it sent her face flying into the cool leather of the seat in front of her. Each thrust more intense than the last as he filled her. She relished the sensation of being stretched by his cock. She'd yearned for it for so long and now he was here inside her body where he belonged.

"Yes, baby, just like that." She screamed forgetting about the man just beyond the glass. He didn't matter. Her anger, her rage, fueled her as Christian pounded into her from behind. Then without warning, he pulled out, withdrawing his length from her warmth.

Ana grunted, turning her body to see why he stopped. Just as their eyes met, he brought his hand down hard on her ass, spanking her. "This is your punishment," he roared, "you'll come when I say you can," he informed her, slapping her butt once more before pushing his dick back inside, driving her higher and higher as the limo sped forward into the night.

Once again, she felt the familiar pull in her core. She tried her best to control her physical reaction, knowing that if he sensed she was close he'd pull out again. But her mind couldn't control her traitorous body. Her legs began to tremble, sweat rolled down her back and again the bastard withdrew.

"I hate you so much right now."

"You're not my favorite person either." He bit, slapping her ass three more times in rapid succession.

Smack!

"Christian," her voice was terse. Her patience wore thin. She needed to come, her orgasm had been a month in the making.

"You still haven't apologized," he growled, slamming back into her dripping wet pussy.

"I'm not sorry. It got your attention, didn't it?" She rolled her hips, meeting him, thrust for thrust.

"You could have just told me you were hurting. I would have understood." He yanked on her hair, her back arched, her body contorted for his pleasure.

"I've been telling you for the past three months."

The limo turned, causing them to lose their balance and they both went crashing onto the floor. They erupted into a fit of laughter at the absurdity of the situation. They were being childish, fucking their emotions out of one another instead of talking. "I'm sorry." Christian said once they composed themselves. His voice was sincere as he pulled her on top of him. "I'm still trying to figure this all out. Please don't give up on me."

"I won't," she promised cuddling up to the man who brought out the best and worst of her. "I just need to know I'm not in this alone."

"As long as I'm breathing, you'll never be alone, whether you like it or not," he smirked, stroking her hair. "Do you want your gift now or later?"

"Now please, I've been patient enough."

"You're going to have to get up," he grinned.

"Fine," she huffed, pulling herself onto the seat. She did her best to straighten out her dress and smooth her unruly mane. Life was funny, this day started out hopeful, then it turned to shit as anger and insecurity seeped into her pores. Now, at two am, riding in the back of a limo with her rock star boyfriend, she felt content. All was right in her world.

Ana watched as Christian pulled up his shorts. He pulled something from the pocket, her gift.

Her breath caught in her chest as he shuffled over to her on bended knee. "That's not what I think it," she gasped. It was only then that she noticed the red Cartier box he was holding.

"If you're thinking earrings, then you're wrong," he smirked, grabbing her left hand.

"Christian," she breathed.

"Anastasia Rose Steele-"

"Christian." She was freaking out. He wasn't about to do what she thought he was about to do, right? Every other possible scenario ran through her mind. If this was a trick it was cruel, but if it was real… "Christian," she repeated.

"Will you shut up and let me do this?" he chuckled.

She laughed nervously as tears streamed down her face, "Sorry, go ahead."

"Anastasia Rose Steele, you are my happiest thing. My light in the darkness, my angel, my best friend. You're the place between sleep and awake. No matter how far I may travel, no matter how long I may stay away, you are my home, you are the place where my dreams come true. Soar with me? Forever?"

"Forever," she nodded as he slipped the ring on her finger.

And they lived happily ever after.

Amy thank you for reading this a million times, at every stage. Thank YOU for reading!

Not Beta'd.