I apologize for taking so long to update my story, but unfortunately my life has been a bit hectic. I took on yet another tutoring job, in addition to my other two, substitute teaching, and waitressing. It's been cray! The things I'll do in pursuit of a real teaching position...
Anyway, I can't thank you all enough for all of the positive feedback I've been getting in regard to this little tale o' mine (in regards to plot of course, everything else is all Ms. James). I hope to update on a much more frequent basis, but I won't make any promises. Please continue to read and review, and if you find any mistakes (grammar, continuity, punctuation, ANYTHING!), please let me know so that I can fix them! Read away and thanks again. :-)
Chapter 3: Dinner and the Ride Home
Christian gives Ana a Ride Home: June 4, 2011
Ana
After Mia, Grace, and I helped Gretchen with a quick clean up of the kitchen and dining room, Mia took me on a lengthy tour of her family's impressively large home. We've avoided the rooms I've already seen, and for that I am grateful. I don't need to see Christian any more than is absolutely necessary. Throughout dinner I could feel his eyes boring into me, and the few times he spoke directly to me, I had to remind myself that breathing is an important biological function. He's just so…intimidating? Beautiful? Intense? I don't think there is a single word, or even string of words, that holds the meaning of just what Christian Grey is.
Incidentally, the Grey family home is easily the most beautiful place I've ever seen. Every room toward the back of the house has the most spectacular view of the sweeping manicured greens and the Puget Sound. With the stocked library, glass-encased sun room, and consistent attention to detail and taste throughout the home, the Grey's house looks like something straight out of Architectural Digest. This is better than anything I've seen on an episode of MTV Cribs...
"And this," Mia says while opening the door and making a showcase gesture with her hands, "is my room." Upon entering and getting a real look around, I can't help the smile that creeps onto my face.
Mia's bedroom is about twice the size of my room at Kate and my apartment, and it's covered in light pink paint with an almost white, but still pink canopy hovering over the king-sized bed sitting against the wall on the north side of the space. All of the furniture is white with black detailing on the handles of her bedside tables and dresser drawers. Given the white mesh netting strung up in one of the corners of the room to hold a plethora of stuffed animals, it's clear to me that Mia's room has been the same since she was a child. It's girly, nauseatingly so, but it's just so Mia. Having grown up with two brothers, I'm sure her parents doted on and fostered her innate girlishness to the highest degree.
Leading me further into the expansive space, Mia opens up a door to the right side of her bed, shooting me an excited smile that all but threatens to crack her pretty face in two. Behind the door is a department store worth of clothing and shoes.
"This, my dear, is my closet." Mia's eyes are gleaming with appreciation of her extensive, and most likely expensive, wardrobe. Yes, she and Kate are going to get along beautifully. I can't help but hope that I never have to go shopping with Mia and Kate at the same time; not only will I probably die of exhaustion, but there is no way my meager bank account could withstand even an hour with the both of them.
"Um…wow, Mia." I'm shocked, and Mia can definitely tell.
"I know it's a lot to take in." Mia is smiling and looking around the Ana's-bedroom-sized closet. "Christian set me up with a personal shopper a few years ago, and she sends things over all the time. I can hardly wear it all, so if you want to take a look around sometime, feel free to take whatever." That's awfully sweet of him.
Despite the obviousness of Mia being spoiled, she is incredibly generous. I know that she would literally give me or anyone else the clothes off her back if asked, and I've witnessed her philanthropic nature on a number of occasions: buying my lunch or dinner, slipping a young homeless woman a twenty, putting all of her change into a donation can at the grocery store checkout…the list goes on and on. This is how I know that when Mia tells me to look around and take whatever, she means it, even if she knows I won't take anything.
Mia decides to change out of her little pink dress, so while she gathers something comfortable I take a closer look around the bedroom. There are pictures on every open surface. While most are of Mia and her friends, there is a group of six framed family photos hanging above her desk. Each picture is clear in depicting the close relationship Mia has with her family members, whether it be her parents, grandparents, or brothers, but one picture stands out among the rest. Mia is in her cap and gown grinning excitedly at the camera, and Christian is smiling while he looks down at her in complete adoration. It makes my heart melt that this 'aloof'-Mia's adjective, not mine-business mogul has such a soft spot for his baby sister. Who would have thought?
When Mia comes out of her closet, she's dressed in a pair of black leggings and a light sweatshirt. "We should probably get back down there before our coffee and tea go cold." She pauses for a moment. "And before Elliot eats our desserts."
"That we should," I say. "Is there a bathroom up here that I can use before I head back downstairs?" All of the wine and champagne has gone straight through my system, and it's definitely time to break the seal, so to speak. I'm not drunk, but if I keep drinking the way we have been throughout the evening, I will be shortly.
Mia ushers me into her en suite bathroom through the door on the left hand side of her bed, before leaving me to do my business and saying she'll meet me in the family room when I'm done. Hopefully I can find my way back.
I use the facilities and freshen up a bit in Mia's perfectly lighted vanity. While gazing at myself in the mirror, I notice the slight flush to my cheeks brought on by imbibing alcohol. And the proximity of Christian Grey. My cheeks flush even more at the thought of him, and since I can't seem to stop thinking about him…he is, in actuality, most likely the reason my cheeks are flushed in the first place.
I can't believe the way I feel when he's close. All night I've felt this pull toward him, and it's taken a lot of energy to not lick his neck or run my fingers through his just-fucked looking hair every time his flinty grey eyes meet mine. Even if I don't catch Christian looking in my direction, it's as if I can feel his eyes on me. It's like his gaze has a physical presence, manifesting itself in the form of electricity that connects directly to the muscles deep within my belly. His presence alone does something to me.
Making eye contact with mirror Ana, I silently tell myself to man up and get my shit together. I don't usually use such crude statements to inwardly scold myself, but I would really like to get through this evening with Mia's family without making a complete fool of myself. Before breaking away from myself, I quietly whisper Kate's most frequent statement of encouragement for me, "You got this Steele." It lacks conviction.
With that, I make my out of Mia's bedroom, through the spacious second floor hallway, and down the dark wood staircase. When I reach the foyer on the first floor, I stop briefly to take a breath and further prepare myself for more time spent with the Christian Grey, but I find myself distracted by the wall of family photos that I noticed on my entrance into the home hours earlier.
Like the images I looked at in Mia's room, these photos show what can only be described as the perfect family. Each one depicts an intimate family moment or some sort of accomplishment of the three Grey siblings. My eye is especially caught by one of Christian Grey as a young boy, probably five or six years old, eyes twinkling and mouth smiling shyly at the camera while holding a little baby dressed all in pink. His hair, true to his adult style, is all over the place, and he is absolutely adorable.
When I tear my eyes away from that picture, I focus on the largest of the bunch. It's of the adolescent Greys on a boat, and all three look as though they are enjoying themselves immensely.
Before I can scrutinize the image any more, I feel a dull current of electricity rush through my veins and ignite that fire deep in my womb. I don't have to look around to know what, or in this case whom, the cause is, because it's the same feeling I've experienced every time Christian's eyes have found me all night and at the ceremony last week. It's unsettling, yet completely invigorating and exciting at the same time.
The concentration I had on the photographs has disappeared, and I'm forcing myself to continue looking at the one my eyes had last settled on. The electricity coursing through my body intensifies by the second, and reaches a new high when I hear the unmistakable voice of Christian Grey directly behind me. Shit. We're alone. Don't hu...-jump him, Ana.
"That was Elliot's high school graduation party." His voice is soft and velvety smooth, yet still deep and masculine. His baritone connects directly with my sex, and I can feel the renewed dampness of my undies. No other man, boy, whatever has ever had this effect on me, and now I'm left with my uncharacteristically hormonal brain to come up with some sort of response to his explanation. Great.
"You all look so…" I pause, and scold myself not having actually thought my response through. "Happy." I hope I didn't say that like a question. Think, Ana! Something more to say. "It must have been great to grow up with siblings." Getting slightly better at this conversation thing.
With a tiny smile, I turn around to look at the Adonis standing behind me. We very briefly make eye contact, but I tear my eyes away when I see his expression. Christian's eyes are unreadable, but something in them makes my heart beat at a frantic rate. He is so handsome. Unbearably beautiful. I need to turn our attention to something else. Another picture should do the trick.
When my eyes find the image of little Christian with the pink-swathed baby, I can't help the giggle that escapes through my lips. Though the little boy in the picture and the man look so much alike, it's hard to believe that the man standing behind me oozing sex was ever an innocent child. Pointing to the image and risking another glance behind me, I ask, "This is you?"
"Yeah. That was the day Mia was brought home from the hospital. She was so little, and loud even then. I was obsessed with her." His voice is louder and animated with the sound of his laugh. The affection he has for his little sister is quite evident, and I can't help but be envious of the two of them.
"You two are adorable." Christian Grey is many things, but adorable certainly isn't an adjective I would use to describe him in the present. In this picture though, adorable he is.
I reach out and touch the frame, to stop myself from reaching out to touch the man behind me. The pull toward Christian intensifies with every breath I take, we take. Without warning, he takes a few step in my direction, and the current between us goes wild. His right hand finds my lower back, and everything inside me turns to liquid: my stomach and lungs, but most especially, my womb and my brain. Yes, my brain has most certainly been reduced to mush.
My body is energized, electrified. Christian's touch sets every nerve, every cell of mine to attention, and it's a sensation I've never experienced before. I can't think or reason with him this close. I try to listen to his varied explanations of the pictures hanging in the hallway, but I can't do anything more than nod and add the occasional, "mmhmm," to the conversation. In this moment, my entire consciousness is singularly focused on the warm touch of his hand pressing into my lower back and the manly, spicy scent wafting from him.
My breaths have become labored. I really hope he can't tell. I can feel my body warming, first at my cheeks but then the heat travels down my body and settles in between my thighs. I can actually feel the wetness emanating from my lower lips, and the muscles deep within my belly are dancing. Butterflies?
After what feels like an eternity, but is really only minutes, the pressure emanating from Christian's hand suddenly increases, pulling my all too willing form closer to his lean, perfectly muscled body. Now facing one another, our eyes lock, gray to blue, and after a moment of searching, my eyes travel down his handsome features and settle on his mouth. His mouth. His sharp intake of breath stirs another ache deep within my belly, and then his hand comes up to pull my lip out of my teeth's grasp. I didn't even notice I was biting it. I just want him to kiss me. Kiss me. I wonder what Christian Grey tastes like. Kiss me. Just a little bit? His head bows toward mine, and I steel myself for what's coming next.
Right before Christian's lips meet mine, we both hear the sound of encroaching footsteps coming down the hallway toward where we're pressed up against one another. The noise stops suddenly, long enough for the two of us to snap out of the electrified trance we were both enjoying, and the footsteps begin again only seconds after they ended.
Christian moves his hands away from me, and at the same time I take a step back, shaking my head slightly in an attempt to rid myself of my libidinous thoughts and feelings.
Christian stows his hands in the pockets of his tweed trousers, and now I notice that they are hanging in the most seductive way off of his tapered, masculine hips. He lets out a small cough, and we both turn toward the intruder as nonchalantly as possible. Nothing to see here. It's Grace, of course, and initially her face is cloaked in surprise, but she follows her expression with a radiant smile. She just saw you almost making out with her son, my subconscious leers. Great, she probably thinks I'm a hussy. And a terrible friend.
"Mom," says Christian nonchalantly. "I was just showing Ana some of the pictures on your 'perfect family wall.'" He flashes her a tight, yet somehow still affectionate smile, then turns back toward me raising his eyebrows and letting out a breath in acknowledgement of our close call and the now settling tension from just a moment before.
"Christian," she admonishes him. "You know I hate it when you call it that." Even I thought the wall of pictures as being indicative of a perfect family. Grace steps over to the wall, in between Christian and I. How much did she see? Enough to separate us. She turns to me with a seemingly heartfelt smile on her lips that just makes me even more anxious. "These are all of my favorite pictures from when my children were growing up."
"I think they're lovely," I hear myself say, and silently scold myself for once again speaking before actually thinking. "I mean, it must be wonderful to see all of your children's accomplishments on a daily basis. Graduations, birthdays, new additions," I gesture to the picture of baby Mia and tiny Christian, and congratulate myself on a successful comment while suffering from the side effects of a mushy brain. "They're all such special occasions."
When Grace takes over explaining some of the pictures to me, Christian excuses himself and saunters off down the hallway. Saunters is the perfect descriptor for what he's doing. Unable to help myself, I turn my head to watch him walk away, and his back looks just as good as his front. He turns his head back in my direction, and dazzles me with a mega-watt smile that is only slightly marred by his finger running across his perfect lower lip. I didn't think his face could be any more beautiful, but after seeing that smile I realize that I was wrong.
Quickly, I turn my attention back to Grace, and she shows me several of her favorite images of the Grey family before leading me back to the living room where her family awaits us. This time, Christian has taken one of the chairs, and I get to share the love seat with Mia, who curls into a tiny ball and cuddles into my side. This is how Kate and I often sit while we watch movies and shovel popcorn into our mouths, so I find it oddly comforting. If I had been made to sit next to Christian again, I would have combust.
After another hour of drinks and conversation, a yawn slips past my lips and I turn to the ornate antique grandfather clock that reads 11:00. It's past my bedtime and I'm exhausted, but I don't want to rush Christian out the door if he wants to stay with his family longer. I sneak a peek at him, and he's watching me. My thighs clench, and my cheeks warm. REALLY? He's just looking at you...my subconscious rolls her eyes.
Christian leans forward in his chair to privately address me and softly says, "Ana, if you're tired we can go."
"Oh no, whenever you're ready. I don't want to make you leave if you don't want to." I give him a tiny smile and turn my attention back to Grace who is talking about vaccinations and the recent cases of the mumps she's had to deal with at work.
The second the conversation stalls, Christian stands. "Well, it's getting late," he says as his hand tugs his hair and he looks around to everyone in the room. "Are you ready to go Ana?" I nod, and stand rather shakily as I realize that I will soon be alone with Christian Grey. In a car. By ourselves. Well, not completely alone; his 'head of security' will be driving, thank heavens.
"Well, Christian, you've certainly stayed longer than usual," says Elliot and I notice Christian giving him a cold scowl, and Mia giggling.
The whole family rises from their seated positions to see us out the front door. Christian is the last person to reach the foyer, and when he arrives he's holding out the white jacket I brought with me. How did he know that's mine? Feeling ridiculously self-conscious all of a sudden, I shrug it on. Briefly, Christian's fingers come into contact with the nape of my neck, and I hold my breath at the unexpected contact. If he notices my reaction, he gives nothing away.
"Ana, I'll call you. Okay?" I nod in Mia's direction, but before I can say anything my feet leave the ground and Elliot takes me into a charismatic hug, twirling me around the room. When he sets me back down, I grasp his forearms to steady myself.
"It was great meeting you Ana," Elliot says with a face-splitting grin. Before I can get a 'you too' in, I'm being swept up in hugs from the rest of the Grey family. They are all so expressive, warm, and affectionate with me, so I'm taken aback again when I notice that they hardly touch Christian. The only family member to hug him is Mia, but her touch doesn't linger, and he returns her affection with a sweet kiss on her forehead. The moment takes me back to the picture of the two of them as children on the wall.
I'm snapped out of my reverie when Grace ends the hug she was giving me. Pulling away, she takes both of my hands and says, "Ana dear, I hope to see you next Saturday for the Coping Together Ball. Mia said she asked you earlier tonight."
"Well, I'm not really-" Before I can say anything else Mia interrupts me.
"Stop, Ana! You're coming. We'll talk about it this week when we go get lunch. And we'll have to go shopping! Maybe even hit Esclava for a pampering sesh!" Mia squeals and claps her hands with each sentence, her eyes gleaming with joy. I won't burst her bubble tonight, but I'm quite sure that I will have to borrow something from Kate because there is no way I can afford to buy myself some fancy gown.
After a few more lingering goodbyes, Christian and I make our way to the waiting Audi SUV. For most of the brief walk he stays slightly behind me, but when we get closer he picks up the pace, making it to the rear passenger side door before me. He opens it, smiles at me and with a sweeping gesture with his left arm says, "Ladies first, Miss Steele."
My eyes meet his and I return his smile. Climbing into the back of the brand new looking SUV, I fold my dress underneath my thighs so that I don't flash my goodies at the Greek God holding the door. When he closes the door to walk around to the other side of the vehicle, my nerves take over and my mind reels. How the hell am I going to ride home in the same vehicle as this man without offering him my virginity in the backseat?
All night I've been trying to play it cool, but Christian Grey has me seriously rattled. I grow extremely anxious remembering his gentle contact from earlier this evening when he helped me up, the fervent pressure of his hand on my back while showing me the pictures, and my ridiculous reaction to his touch when he held out my jacket. Not to mention the electric jolt I felt when we shook hands at graduation. I can't let him touch me. I can't think when he's that close, or at least I can't think about anything other than how much I want him to keep touching me. If he even comes near me while we're in the car, I'm sure I'll wind up as just another notch on his extremely expensive and well-used bedpost.
And Mia! Considering everything she's told me about her irritation with Lily's attempts at seducing her brothers, I assume that she will absolutely loathe me if anything happens with Christian. Nothing will happen with him. Look at Christian Grey. Now look at yourself. He is way, way out of your league, Steele. I'm probably reading the situation wrong. Nope, definitely reading it wrong. He is far, far too beautiful and successful to even look at little Ana Steele. If he didn't go for Lily, who is quite beautiful despite her smug face, then I don't stand a chance.
With slightly muffled voices, I hear Christian speaking with another man outside of the vehicle. "We'll be giving Miss Steele a ride home…I believe she lives near Pike Market...It should be on our way…I'll ask her."
The door opens, and the long lean legs of Christian Grey step in the door behind the driver's seat, while another man settles in to drive the two of us home. "Ana this is my head of security, Taylor. Taylor, this is Miss Steele." Miss Steele? Seriously. Taylor nods his head in acknowledgement and Christian continues, "What's your address Ana?"
I give him the address and we settle into an uncomfortable silence as Taylor steers the car out of the driveway and into the dark Washington night. The current running between us is strengthened in the confines of the SUV, so I keep my eyes trained on the passing terrain outside the window, trying my best not to look at the man sitting just a foot or two away from me. Every so often I feel his eyes, and after neither one of us speaks for at least five minutes, Christian finally breaks the awkward silence.
"You must hate me," he says with a smile playing at his lips.
His admission takes me completely off guard. After all, it is a rather strange thing to say. With a furrowed brow and quizzical tone, I reply, "Why would you say that?"
"Katherine Kavanagh is your roommate, best friend, what have you." Christian says this like it's an obvious reason to despise him. He looks serious now, his smile gone. After I stare at him with what I'm sure is a confused expression and don't say anything for what feels like minutes, he continues. "She was disappointed with her interview, and when I saw her at graduation I thought she was going to push me off the stage." He chuckles behind his perfectly manicured, but still manly, hand and I have to take a deep breath before continuing the conversation.
"You should have expected worse. She was definitely not happy with you." I laugh a little remembering Kate's culminating question and her nickname for him: 'Mr. I'm Not Gay Christian Grey.' "That's no reason for me to hate you, though. I know she didn't exactly take it easy on you during the interview either. She listened to that recording countless times while writing the article."
He looks surprised at my admission. "You heard the tape? Then you must hate me!" The deep tone of his laugh is mesmerizing and captivating. I can't help but laugh along with him.
"I may have called you an ass," I confess quickly, suddenly feeling bold. I keep eye contact and pause before I continue. "You know, she had been trying all day to get me to do the interview." I watch as one of Christian's eyebrows raises slightly, and his index finger gently grazes his lips that are curved into a mischievous smirk. "Kate wasn't feeling well. I convinced her to suck it up, but she still made me drive her all the way to Seattle and wait in the lobby."
The smile disappears and his demeanor goes from amused to serious. "So, you were at Grey House? My staff treated you well?" Throughout the evening I noticed how serious Christian became when his business was discussed, and right now that seriousness is quite evident. It makes sense; you don't become as successful as he is at his age without an earnestness for what you do.
"Oh they did!" Too enthusiastic, Steele. Calm it down. "I can't remember her name, but the receptionist brought me water and pointed me to a rather well-stocked bookshelf in the main lobby." Better. I leave out that first receptionist we spoke with, the one who seemed irritated with Kate and me because we're young, wasn't exactly friendly or accommodating.
"I'm glad they treated you well," he says softly. There's a pregnant silence that lasts for only a moment, neither one of us sure of where the conversation should go. My hands knot in my lap and my eyes dart around the vehicle in an effort to find something, anything to talk about.
"So, how do you like Seattle so far?" And just like that, Christian's smile and jovial mood are back.
"I like it. I might have ended up hating it if it weren't for your sister." I let out a little giggle and lean back, resting my head on the back of the seat and turning my head to the side to look at Christian. "I don't know anyone here other than Kate, and she left a day after we moved in. Mia's been showing me around the city."
"How did you two meet anyway? I've only heard about how amazing you are. Mia failed to mention how you actually met." He says 'amazing' in a perfect Mia falsetto, soliciting another laugh from me.
"I was out to lunch at this deli, alone of course, and Mia was with her friend Lily." I can't help but say Lily's name with a hint of disdain, and I notice Christian roll his eyes at the mention of her. "The two of them had a disagreement over Lily's need of a date for the Coping Together Ball next weekend, and Lily just got up and left Mia upset and alone at their table. I asked if she was okay-"
"And Mia came and sat with you?" he interrupts, eyebrows raised with good-humored speculation. "Then inundated you with questions, stealing your phone in the process and programming in her phone number?"
"You certainly know your sister well," I laugh. "That is exactly what happened!"
He rolls his eyes again and lets out an exasperated sigh through his upturned lips. "It wouldn't be the first time she's done something like that. She can be so overbearing. For years Elliot and I have been telling her that she needs to reign it in if she wants to keep people around, and here you are encouraging her with your subsequent friendship!"
I can't help but giggle at Christian's teasing chastisement, but Mia's words from earlier this evening come unbidden to the forefront of my thoughts. She said that Christian was usually moody and aloof, but he doesn't seem like that at all. Throughout the night and during the ride alone, he's been incredibly attentive, keeping the conversation lively and entertaining. He certainly hasn't been anything like what Kate described. Without realizing it, the confusion of my thoughts makes its way to my expression before I can control my features.
"What's wrong?" he asks quietly, with a hint of real concern in his voice. His expression is soft with confusion.
"Nothing." I smile at him, but his eyes probe mine until I speak without thinking, again. "You're just not what I expected."
"How so?"
"Well, Mia warned me that you're usually somewhat aloof or moody, but you've been anything but tonight." His expression is serious, and his eyes are boring into me, intensifying the already intense electricity between us. "And if I'd listened to what Kate had to say-" I pause and take a breath "-I would probably be walking home!" I laugh a bit at my exclamation and avoid looking in Christian's direction.
Every time I meet his eyes, I forget all of the reasons why I could never be with Christian Grey.
Christian
If Ana wasn't laughing about what she expected from me, I would be beyond furious. Somehow, the sound of her laughter lulls me into a blissful trance, and I can't help but laugh along with her. It's a beautiful, calming sound that I don't think I could ever tire of hearing.
However, to say I'm shocked that my darling little sister would say such things about me to one of her friends would be an understatement. If Mia weren't my sister, I would probably be concocting some evil scheme to ruin her life right about now. She told Ana that I'm aloof and moody? What the fuck! I mean it is true, I am both of those things, but I would never go around telling people that Mia is both spoiled and naive, despite the fact that she is. And as for Kate, well, I just don't care because Ana's here with me right now.
Don't even get me started with how pissed I am that I could have met Ana prior to graduation. Katherine fucking Kavanagh.
"Aloof and moody?" I reply through my laughter, making it a point to sound affronted. Ana nods back at me, still giggling girlishly but trying to hide it by putting a hand over her mouth. "My own sister said these things about me? She and I will have to have a talk about this."
"Oh God! Don't! It certainly didn't affect my opinion of you," Ana says, still smiling. Fuck, she is so beautiful. "Besides, I think she was nervous for me to meet your family, you especially. From everything I've gathered from Kate's assessment you can be quite formidable when you want to be, and I know you and Elliot aren't huge fans of Mia's others friends. She was just preparing for the absolute worst." Yes, baby. I can be quite formidable, some might even say I can be domineering.
We fall into a comfortable silence, and while Ana turns to look out the window, my eyes continue to assess her. I can't tear my gaze away from her. When she lets out a small sigh, my cock hardens once again as I imagine the sweet little sounds she'll make when I get the chance to plow into her again and again and again with my full length. I have to halt my delicious reverie when Ana turns toward me, her lips turned up in a small pouty smile. I want you so bad, Ana. Now, fuck me. I'll get Taylor to pull over and leave us alone. If I thought it would work, I would definitely beg her right now, but for now I need to keep her talking.
"So, did the Grey family scare you away, Ana?"
That electricity I've felt between us since first laying eyes on her at graduation has grown thicker with each passing mile. When her eyes find mine, I have to restrain my hands in my lap, lest they make their way across the seat and caress the porcelain skin of Ana's leg now exposed by the riding up of her dress. Throughout the ride, I've noticed that Ana remains huddled as close to the door as she possibly can as if she wants to put as much space between the two of us as possible. It's probably for the best; if she were any closer, I wouldn't be able to restrain myself.
"No, Christian," she starts. Say my name again, baby. I like the way it sounds coming out of that mouth. "Your family definitely hasn't scared me away. In fact, I quite like every one of your family members."
"Even Elliot?" I ask jokingly, and she smiles at me. My heart is pounding in my chest.
"Yes, even Elliot." With her reply, Taylor begins to slow the vehicle and slide toward the curb in front of what must be Ana's building. "Well, this is me." Shit, that ride didn't last long enough. How can I prolong this?
Before Ana has a chance to think about grabbing the door handle, I interject and put my plan to remain with her a little longer into action. "Wait." I climb out of the SUV and make my way around to Ana's side of the vehicle, the fresh air lessens the thick energy present in the confines of the vehicle. Opening the door, I take Ana's tiny hand in mine to help her out, and when our skin touches, that familiar current passes between us, once again intensifying the connection I feel with this woman.
"Thank you." Ana's gaze turns toward her the ground and her cheeks flush as I help her out of the vehicle. I'm remiss to let go of her once she's safely out of the SUV, but I manage it somehow. Don't want to freak her out too quickly.
"You're welcome." I follow her to the door of her building, and stop when she does to rifles through her coat pockets in search of her apartment keys. "Would you like for me to walk you up?" Say yes. Once I get you in your apartment, I'll might be able to make my way inside you.
"No that won't be necessary," she says quickly with a nervous inflection in her soft voice. Ana pauses, searching for something else to say to me. "I can't thank you enough for the ride. It was nice not having to worry about how I'd be getting home." Speaking of which… I know I can put my plan into action now.
"How do you intend to retrieve your car tomorrow?" I blurt this out, having realized on our ride that I could possibly see her tomorrow if I arrange to have her car delivered to her from my parents' house.
"I really haven't thought that far ahead." She takes in a deep breath, and bites that fucking lip in concentration, as if this is a huge predicament. I almost, almost reach out to free her lip once again like I did earlier in the evening. "I suppose I'll have to grab a cab or something out to Bellevue and pick it up. I don't think Mia could handle driving it. Wanda requires some special TLC if you expect her to behave."
"Wanda?" I smile at the fact that she's named her shitty, shitty little car.
"Yes, Wanda." She returns my expression, and I hold her gaze with mine. "She's my special girl." And, she fucking giggles, making me hard once again. Adjust your pants. Discreetly. I'm sporting a massive hard-on at this point.
"Give me your car keys." I hold out my hand and she looks at me like I'm crazy. Okay. Giving orders might not be the best approach with Miss Steele … yet. "I'll arrange to have it delivered to you tomorrow." She's still looking at me like I've lost it. "Taylor can get it in the morning, and Mia will call to let you know when it will be dropped off."
"Christian," say it again, "I really don't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have. I really don't mind taking a cab out to pi-..." I have to interrupt her.
"No. Stop. You doing that would be unacceptable when it's so easy for me to arrange this." I smile at her in an attempt to relieve some of the discomfort I can tell she's feeling with my proposal. "Now, give me your keys."
"Fine." She doesn't sound pleased to be accepting my help as she takes the key chain and holds it out in front of her face, finding the key for her car. One of her fingernails slides into the metal folds of the ring, pulling it apart just enough to move the key off the chain in one swift and easy manipulation of her hands. Dexterous. I like that. What else can you do with those soft little hands?
"That wasn't so hard was it," I say, making a point to smile and hold her eyes with mine. Right now I could show her hard. "Do you need the car at any specific time tomorrow?"
"Nope. I don't have anything going, so whenever is most convenient for you or Taylor or whoever you have taking care of me." Once again, I notice that Ana is avoiding my gaze, her eyes downcast and looking anywhere but directly at my face. Usually this would please me immensely, but I need to get my fill of her gorgeous face, eyes, lips, skin, hair, etc. She takes her keys in her right hand and places them near the sensor next to the door of her building, causing the door to unlock. I grab it and hold door open an inch or two with my foot. If I'm going to make a move, it's now or never.
I reach for Ana's empty hand and gently pull her toward my body. Her face tilts up toward mine and she sucks in one deep, unsteady breath in either surprise or anticipation, I can't tell which and I don't really care. I search her blue eyes for permission to take this further, and upon seeing no hesitation or plea for me to stop, I begin to lean my face toward hers. At the last possible moment, Ana's eyes close and she shifts her face just a millimeter to the left. I'm forced to forgo kissing her soft, pink lips and settle on her cheek, but at least my lips get to graze some part of her body. Fuck. I was so close! I need to kiss those lips. The skin of her cheek is so warm and soft.
This is probably the first and only time I've been turned down by a woman. Usually, they're throwing themselves at me, but of course the one woman I want to throw herself at me, doesn't. At first I'm offended, but then I catch a hint of her aroma. Her scent is intoxicating, a flowery, feminine aroma that is absolutely not the result of any sort of perfume. It has to be an amalgam of body wash, shampoo, and something distinctly Ana. It's a panacea for my now frazzled confidence.
I pull away and release her hand at the same time. Our eyes find each other once again, and I can't quite place the emotion I see behind hers. Disappointment? Hopefully.
"Goodnight Christian," she says so softly that it's almost a whisper. I open the door fully for Ana to walk through.
"Goodnight Anastasia. It was wonderful seeing you again." We exchange small despondent smiles before she turns and walks away. I want nothing more than to turn her around, kiss her soundly, follow her upstairs, and fuck her senseless, but I refrain from doing so. She needs to think you're a gentleman, for tonight at least. I can't help but watch her lean legs and perfect ass saunter away from where I'm planted on the sidewalk. She is so fucking beautiful.
I walk back to the car feeling awful, but when I remember my plan for the next day, I smirk and look at Taylor in the rear view mirror as he pulls away from the curb.
"Taylor," I say and he turns his eyes toward the mirror to acknowledge me.
"Sir?"
"I have the key for Miss Steele's car. We'll go get it first thing in the morning." I know that if I can get it before Mia is awake, she won't be able to call Ana right away and I'll bring it back to Escala. She will have to come get it, and if she does she'll also have to come up to the penthouse to get the key. Even if we have to drop it off later, I'll have to help Taylor drop it off to her. Either way I see her again and I see her soon. Devious bastard.
Before I notice the ridiculous smile creeping across my face, I catch Taylor's amused expression in the mirror. I quickly remember myself, and work to put my face back to it's usual seriousness. It doesn't work, and I'm still smiling stupidly when I step off the elevator into my penthouse fifteen minutes later.
The first thing I see when I walk in is the table in the foyer, and I can't help but imagine taking Ana on it. Her spread out before me, wet and ready for a thoroughly intense patented Christian Grey fucking. I wonder what her face looks like when she comes. And my favorite body part is rock hard once again. I'm brought out of my fantasy by a woman standing in front of me. A woman whom I had forgotten about until this very moment. There goes my erection.
"Sir said he would call on his way home." Molly's eyes-what color are they?-are downcast, looking at the floor and avoiding my steely gaze. I do my best to find my inner dominant, but I struggle to do so and eventually give up.
"I forgot," I reply flippantly. That's probably not a good sign for you, Molly.
"Oh," she sounds disappointed, affronted. "Would Sir like for me to go to the playroom?"
"No, that won't be necessary tonight." I pause and gather my thoughts. Do I want Molly here? Not really. Will I want to have her in the playroom tomorrow? She just killed my erection. I realize rather quickly, that the only woman I want in my playroom, or even in my apartment is Anastasia Steele. "My office in ten minutes." Molly turns and walks away like the perfect little submissive. I wonder if she knows what's coming.
I turn on my heel and head toward the security suite, where I know Taylor will be stationed for now. "Taylor!" I shout, and he immediately shuffles into view.
"Mr. Grey?"
"I'm cutting Miss Klein loose. Her car is here, but she might need a ride tonight. I'll let you know." Taylor's face goes from passive and dutiful one moment, to stunned for a fraction of a second, and then back to it's normal passive expression. "Either way, you'll need to arrange for the few things in her room to be delivered to her place tomorrow." I pause, remembering my scheme to see Ana. "Monday at the latest, I guess."
Taylor simply nods, and informs me he will be in his office until Molly is ready to leave. This is why I can't imagine my life without Taylor. He simply does what I ask without question even if, like tonight, my behavior is out of the ordinary. Nothing about you is ordinary.
When Taylor and I part ways, I make my way to my home office where I find Molly in a perfect submissive stance: kneeling, legs apart, eyes downcast, and hands resting on her knees. "Stand," I say with authority and she follows my command immediately, rising from the floor with ease.
"You can look at me." Brown. Her eyes are brown. I've never paid attention to that before. My subs have always been of a similar type: petite, brunette, pale skin. Eye color has never played a part in this, until tonight. Not until I saw Ana.
"Sir?" Her eyes are swimming with tears in anticipation of what she must know is coming next.
"Molly, I am terminating our contract. You need to leave the apartment tonight. Either you can drive home or I will have Taylor give you a ride. You should take what you can with you, and whatever is left will be delivered to your home tomorrow or on Monday at the very latest."
The water in Molly's eyes begins to fall down her face, but I really don't care. She should have seen this coming when I got home. I wasn't even that interested in her last weekend, so whatever. "May I ask why Mr. Grey?" I shrug my shoulders like an asshole.
"You may, but I don't have to give you an answer." I stare at her. "Would you like a ride or will you be driving?" I bet Molly would describe me as aloof and moody right now. She would probably describe you as a sadistic asshole, you prick.
"I can drive myself," she spits in my direction, turning around and walking briskly toward the stairs that will lead her to the submissive bedroom on the second floor. I close the door to my office, and text Taylor that Molly will be driving herself and remind him to change the security codes after she leaves tonight. Within minutes, I hear the elevator ping and I know Molly has left the premises. Thank fuck.
I settle into the chair behind my desk and close my eyes. My mind takes me back to the reverie from when I first arrived home: Ana on the foyer table spread out and waiting for me. This time though, I have the time to take the thought further and before I know it I'm fisting my cock while imagining Ana lying on the desk in front of me completely naked, her soft, sweet voice begging me to enter her tight, wet folds. Her perfect breasts bounce with each of my thrusts. Her blue eyes are bright and looking directly into mine.