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Chapter 17 - Kryptonite
My eyes go between Bubba's and Harrison, the protection officer I hired to watch over Anastasia. My guy looks like he's had the crap beaten out of him. I quickly glance at Bubba's massive left fist and it's bloody. My brain is running through different scenarios on explaining this so quickly that I barely hear Bubba inform Anastasia that he called Luke the second he noticed the guy watching the houseboat.
"Put him down nicely!" Anastasia orders. To say she's angry would be an understatement. Her arms are tightly crossed, she's practically stomping a foot, and her blue eyes reflect her inner fury. When Bubba glares at her, she stands slightly straighter and glares right back at him. Feisty looks hot on little Miss Steele.
Bubba unhappily drops him like a hot potato. I immediately help my guy sit in a chair. Anastasia goes into the kitchen and returns with two bags of frozen peas and a first aid kit.
"I'm really sorry about this mister," she sighs as she gently places the bag of peas over his black eye and checks him over before adding the second bag to one side of his jaw. As she cleans up the cut over his eyebrow, she continues talking to him. This is one of my younger guys and in hind site, I almost regret allowing Taylor to hire someone close to her age. Green! "I know you are just trying to do your job. What's your name?"
"Harrison ma'am," he replies as she smiles down at him.
"What the fuck do you mean he's trying to do his job Annie?" Bubba demands stepping closer to me.
"Mr. Grey hired him and another guy to keep an eye on me. Their job is to make sure I'm safe," she explained as she used steri-strips to close off the gash. "Can I get you something to drink Mr. Harrison?"
"No thank you ma'am," he replied. She gets up, heads to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of water and Advil. With a half-hearted glare down at Harrison, he takes two Advil with a few sips of water. "Thank you Miss Steele."
"Ana," she corrects him with a slight tilt to her head as she raised her eyebrows expectedly.
"Ana," he replies with a smirk. Fucking green.
My only question is how did she know? I only confirmed it for Sawyer late last night, though he suspected. Bubba didn't seem to be thrilled with my over-protective streak. He was now looking down on me menacingly. I glared right back at him, though if I'm honest, I'm more concerned that Anastasia is referring to me as Mr. Grey again, as opposed to Christian.
"If you harm one hair on his head Uncle Shrek, I'll never forgive you," Anastasia demanded with a scowl as Luke enters the houseboat followed by Taylor. They both quickly glance around the room and survey the situation. "If Mr. Grey hired him to watch over me, it means one of two things –Grey's either a controlling asshole, a trait I know for a fact he's been working on; or…"
The color drained from her face – fuck, she knows. She looked between my concerned face, Bubba's, Taylor's, and finally Sawyer's. The abject horror on her face before the panic attack kicks in full throttle. The last words out of her mouth before she went into full-blown hyperventilation were "or it's not over."
Sawyer is at her side a second later helping her sit on the couch. Over the next minute he does his best between rubbing her back and whispering in her ear to stop the anxiety attack. I don't know what he's saying but it's working, she's calming down.
"Did you know about this Luke?" she asked as she gazed up into his eyes. There was no missing the hurt, fear, and trepidation in those massive blue orbs of hers.
"Before I explain it, I need you to understand that we care about you and have been trying to shield you from what is at best a theory. Okay?" Sawyer explains while holding her small hands in his. When she nods, he continues. "We all thought this was over and it might just be over. Honestly, we're not sure. Ray kept reading the final police and trooper reports and he wondered how Jameson got back from ditching the SUV if her actions were spur of the moment and not planned that night outside Escala. A few weeks back, Ray, Taylor, and I went out for beers and we discussed it. We figured she had help, but we didn't know if it was someone she knew who was in on her plan or if was just some idiot who gave her a lift out of the goodness of their heart. Follow me so far?"
She nodded.
"We knew you'd be needing an apartment since Kate and Elliot were building a home, so Ray, Bubba, and I did some plotting and planning. I knew you wouldn't move in with me so since Bubba pretty much owns half the slip, we set you up in a houseboat that sits surrounded by Bubba's place and some of his other retired Hell's Angel buddies. Ray and I both felt better knowing we could trust the people around you. In the meantime, I've made sure we spent a heck of a lot of time together. The only place you weren't watched over was inside the hardware store, but there were always people watching the exits just in case. It's the only place we've struggled with your security."
"You could have told me?" she whispered nervously.
"And what? Then you would have been a nervous wreck, chasing shadows, and you wouldn't have been able to get on with your life," Sawyer informed her. "You were a mess after everything that happened Ana. More than anything you needed piece of mind. We did our best to give it to you. The fact that nothing has happened to you in past few months has made us feel a bit better. I mean Jameson probably just had some random jerk give her a ride from Mount Saint Helens because there's been nothing - no one following you and no threats. That's a good thing, but to make sure, I'd like to keep the plans in place for another few months and maybe improve them a bit. I suspected Mr. Grey was watching over you, which is good because you have two independent teams heading toward the same conclusions. Now Mr. Grey has put me in charge of your security, given me a team, and we can combine efforts until we are one hundred percent certain this is over. I need you to trust us on this Ana. If you do, moving forward we'll keep you informed."
"Agreed," she sighed before getting to her feet. "Mr. Grey and I have already had lunch, but if you are hungry, there's cornbread and chili on the stove. Please help yourselves while I have a word with Mr. Grey in private."
Sawyer offers to serve the other, while Anastasia gives my sleeve a tug before heading to the informal living room behind the kitchen. What I wouldn't give to be Mr. Grey and just Christian right now in her eyes.
My body will not betray me.
My body will not betray me.
My body will not betray me.
Yeah right Steele, dream on repeat that mantra all you want, it's no use. What was I thinking bringing Christian into the other room? It was hard enough being in the kitchen cooking with him all day. All day long the space between us was like a magnetic field – it was wonderful yet terrifying at the same time. How can this sensation be even stronger than when I was in his arms after almost being struck by the cyclist? I haven't seen the man in months yet … oh God, I'm so fucking screwed.
The irony of my choice of words in my rambling thoughts isn't lost on me. I giggle as we sit on the black couch.
"What?" he asks staring into my eyes.
I know I'm lightly shaking my head negatively, yet I can't pull my eyes from his. For months these smoldering eyes have haunted me. It's that odd combination of strength, vulnerability, innocence, hurt, and uncertainty that I find attractive. On top of everything, he's ridiculously attractive. For months I've asked myself – why is this Adonis among men interested in me, yet I always come up with the same answer –because I'm damaged, vulnerable, and can be molded into what he needs.
How can I still be attracted to him after seeing that room? In my mind's eye, all I see are paddles, whips, shackles, belts, and other items hanging from the walls and they scare the heck out of me. That damned room… the belts… All I could see in my mind was the panoramic view of the red room.
I don't know when I started crying, but my cheeks were wet and I was struggling to breathe. Come on Steele pull yourself together. Finally I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my eyes, and exhaled slowly. "Give me a minute please while I pull the dysfunctional mess than I am together Christian."
He looked lost as I got off the couch, stepped through the back door, and onto the small deck. The gentle breeze felt wonderful as I close my eyes and took a few more deep breaths. How do I explain the pathological fear of his now defunct red room without making him feel awful?
"Ana," he whispers placing his hands on my shoulder and gently turns me to face him. How can one simple touch have every nerve ending in my body on edge and ready to respond?
Holy cow, this is intense. I can get lost in those fathomless grey eyes. They are hypnotic and almost stormy. They are the perfect reflection of the man to whom they belong.
It feels like slow motion when his hand moves from my shoulder and brushes a loose strand of hair from my eyes. The gentle contact feels like one by one my nerves are exploding like individual fireworks following the path of his fingers. I can't help but close my eyes and bask in the intimate sensation.
His fingertips continue their journey moving the strand of hair behind my ear. He continues slowly moving the caress behind my ear causing the most thrilling sensation. Reflexively I tilt my head slightly to give him better access. If this is even a tenth of what feeling wanton is like, I want more.
When I feel his forehead rest against mine I can't help but open my eyes and stare into his. I can't think when he's this close. Heck, it's difficult to breathe.
"Anastasia," he whispers as he traces my lips with his fingertip and the fingers from his other hand are playing with my hair. "I promise I will never hurt you. No red room, no punishments, or pain. When we're both ready, I want to explore what this is between us. I can't help but feel part of you does too. We could be amazing together, but if you tell me no, I'll walk away. You control this decision. I promise."
When his fingers trace the nap of my neck, my knees felt like they are about to give out. His smooth lips brush against mine before he slowly kisses my jawline and heads toward my neck. I gasp as he nibbles my ear lobe, causing him to softly chuckle. "Tell me what you want Anastasia," his voice is a soft, sensual whisper. Just feeling his breath on my skin makes me tremble. When his hand brushes against my breast before he wraps his arm around my waist he pulls me closer, I can't help but gasp.
His forehead is once again resting against mine. The sensations coursing through me make it difficult to gaze into his eyes. I've felt vulnerable before but never this raw and wanton, yet he's barely touched me. All I want to do is close my eyes and allow the incredible sensation to consume me.
"Look at me Anastasia and tell me what you want?"
His grey eyes are dark, aroused, and through it I can see he's just as nervous as I am. "I want to explore whatever this is between us. It's scary, but at the same time I feel alive, vulnerable, and unexpectedly, safe. You're a scoundrel Christian Grey, but my God, Han Solo has nothing on you." I can't help but giggle.
"What?" he asked with amusement, while still holding me against him.
"I learned today that I'm not a frigid bitch, just a bit of a stubborn bitch. Kate used to tease me about being asexual. I was right, you are my kryptonite."
"It goes both ways," he whispered before his lips covered mine. What started as a soft, almost erotic kiss seemed to explode the minute I let go and ran my fingers through his hair. It was like the elevator all over again, only this time he wasn't holding my hands over my head. It felt like an X-rated out of body experience – I couldn't get enough of his lips on mine while his hands explored my body. I have no idea when he picked me up and sat me on the wooden railing, but when his knee nudged mine apart, my treasonous body obeyed in an instant. Maybe treason is a good thing sometimes. YAY TREASON!
When his growing arousal pushed against me there, I shifted so I could hold him closer. As my hands reached his back, I felt him stiffen for a split-second before he relaxed once again. I felt his body lean into mine as his mouth and tongue explored mine. With his weight pushing against me, it was difficult to maintain my balance on the railing. In the end it didn't matter, the sound of cracking wood rang out and I felt myself slowly fall backwards, my arms like wind mills trying to reach out for anything to prevent myself falling into the cold fall water of Lake Union. When I grabbed Christian, he was already falling face first. I braced myself for impact with the frigid water, and all I could do was scream, while Christian swore. We hit the water with a resounding splash, him on top of me. No better way to kill a moment than falling into frigid, murky water.
By the time we came up for air with both of us coughing, Taylor and Sawyer were out on the deck with their guns drawn looking for a threat. Bubba looked guilty standing behind them. "Guess I should have mentioned we were replacing that railing next week."
"Thanks for the warning," I muttered as I reached my hand up toward Luke. With a quick pull, he lifted me out of the water, while Taylor helped Christian. Harrison quickly joined us with towels in hand.
"What happened?" Luke asked, but I swear he was smirking at me.
"We were leaning against the railing talking when it broke," I muttered through chattering teeth. Leave it to Luke to merely raise a quizzical eyebrow my way. I swear he was trying to suppress a laugh.
"Just get your sorry butt upstairs and take a long hot shower. Your shift at the hardware store starts in an hour and a half, and I don't want you hyperventilating in the car because you're worried about being late," Luke sighs giving me a nudge toward the door. "We'll have to stop at my place so you can grab the beast along the way, so then I won't have to worry about your stubborn ass taking public transportation late at night because you don't want to inconvenience anyone." I could have sworn he rolled his eyes at me. Having Luke in my life was like having an overprotective big brother. The car ride to grab the beast would be interesting; of that I have no doubt whatsoever.
As I'm walking inside, Taylor sends Harrison to the car to retrieve Christian's bag of workout gear from the trunk, wh ile Luke hands him a stack of clean towels. All I could think of as I walked upstairs was the fact that Christian would be undressing in the other bathroom. Is it wrong that right now, all I want is a spy camera? Stupid hormones.
I stood under the hot water for at least thirty minutes. All I did was think about his body against mine when we were on the deck. Now I can begin to appreciate when Kate raves on and on about Elliot's mad skills. Just thinking about Christian's touch me makes me shiver.
The last thing I want to do is go to work today. Is it wrong that I want to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with Christian? Even in my head I'm being a whiny little bitch, as Kate calls herself every time she wears her pink bunny break up pajamas. This time, it's my turn and it's not because of a breakup, it's because I'm just being so annoying that I even annoy myself. So after literally pulling on my big girl panties, khaki's, polo shirt, and chucks, I'm almost ready for work. A quick blow dry and ponytail, followed by mascara and lip-gloss and I can't help but sigh. I don't want to go! Wow, I'm whiny. Even I want to slap me.
When I get back downstairs, Christian is wearing his winter running gear. How can a man make designer sweat pants with a tight-fitting t-shirt and hoodie look so damn good? It should be a crime.
"You're late!" Luke scolds me half-teasing. As usual, the Tardis cookie jar is in his massive hand and he's munching away on the black and white cookies contained therein. At least this time he's sharing them with Taylor and Christian. Bubba and Harrison must have left while I was upstairs. "It's amazing that you didn't drain Lake Union with that shower. We don't have time to pick up the beast, so I'll drop you at work and pick you up at the end of your shift."
I couldn't help but salute him mockingly. "Yes Sir Major Pain In The Butt Sawyer, Sir." I giggled and he rolled his eyes at me.
"I'll wait for your sorry ass by the car Private Steele," Sawyer replied as he headed toward the door. "I look forward to mocking you unmercifully."
"Ana it was good seeing you again," Taylor stated before giving me a smirk and a nod before following Sawyer outside. This left Christian and I alone in the boathouse.
"What are your plans for tomorrow?" he asks.
"Luke, my dad, and I are taking a bit of a one day road trip," I sigh unable to keep my anxiety from revealing itself. "Luke and I are heading to Montesano in the morning, then I guess you an say I'm getting my driving legs back." He looks at me uncertainly, so I have no real choice but to fess up. "I haven't driven on the highway at all since the accident. Even as a passenger, when Luke takes me to Montesano I have panic attacks. It's been getting better, so tomorrow Luke and Dad want me to drive the beast along the accident route. Dr. Flynn offered to come, but I told him no."
"I could accompany you if you'd like. I have an international conference call in the morning, but I could fly Charlie Tango to Montesano by the early evening."
"God, you're so sweet. I appreciate it Christian, but I might be a complete and total basket case by the end of the night and I don't want you to see me like that." It's the truth. Heck, I don't want Luke or my Dad to see me fall apart.
He tells me to think about it. Sawyer and I could do a one-way rental and if I react poorly we could fly back in Charlie Tango as opposed to having panic attacks the entire way back to Seattle in the beast. I know he's right. I also know I've got my heels dug in, but I don't want him to see me like that. "Let me talk to Luke about it and I'll let you know. It's a very kind gesture and I do appreciate it."
"I would like to spend time with you this week if you are free," he asks pulling out his Blackberry. I grab my Note-3 and stand at his side so we can compare days.
"Monday lunch or dinner?" he asks.
I shake my head negatively and show him my calendar. Flynn nine to ten; Group ten thirty until twelve thirty; Volunteer at Food Bank one to five; and Hardware store six to close.
"Tuesday?" he counters.
"Tuesday through Thursday evenings I work six to close; and I'm booked solid in between with therapy, writing, and an editing project I'm helping out on for a friend, so I'm pretty much booked from seven am until nearly eleven pm those days. I can barely squeeze Flynn and Group in on Wednesday morning. Sorry."
"Friday?" I can tell he's getting exasperated.
"Breakfast meeting from seven to eight forty five; Flynn from nine to ten; Group from ten to twelve; writing twelve to two; editing project two to five; then I'm having an early dinner at a friends house before catching the red-eye to New York City for a conference. I won't be back until mid-day Monday, which leaves me enough time to unpack, shower, and get to work before the entire cycle starts over again."
"What type of conference? Hardware?" Between the frustration and sarcasm in his voice it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to snap at him. Stupid PMS – Midol take me away! There isn't any reason for him to be snarky and sarcastic.
"I've been doing some freelance editing online for the past few months as a way to subsidize my income. I took some of my savings so I could head to a digital publishing conference," I some how manage to calmly explain to him.
"But you don't even work in publishing."
I laugh. "I know, but it is my goal once my head is on straight and I look at this trip as investing in myself. Even you have to admit, if you owned a publishing company and a recent college graduate tried to get hired, but was totally clueless with regard to the latest trends in the publishing industry, you'd kick her to the curb faster than we fell into Lake Union."
"True," he replied with a smirk. "So Anastasia, are you keeping yourself busy so you don't have time to think about life? Because that is what it appears you are doing."
"Perhaps in part," I reply, "but I also want to live my dream, so I'm working hard toward that when I'm not at the hardware store trying to keep myself afloat financially. I need the other time to write, edit and take steps toward making my dream happen. I don't want to work at the hardware store for more than a year, so I have a great deal to learn and do if I want to meet that goal. You know what it's like to want to build something from nothing. I know you do and you've succeeded beyond even your expectations I'm sure."
He nods. "I get it. I just want for us to be able to spend some time together."
"We might have to meet at Bubba's for breakfast regularly. It's a good start and I'm certain you can convince the big guy to add something healthy to the menu so your not bouncing around like a kid who's never had sugar again."
"Are you mocking me Miss Steele?"
I can't help but grin at him as my phone vibrates. "Most certainly Mr. Grey." I look at my text message and groan. "Let's go before Luke's head implodes."
Before I can grab my purse off the kitchen chair, he takes my hand and pulls me toward him. "I mean what I said earlier Anastasia. I promise to never hurt you."
I can barely nod in agreement as the air is charged around us – forget about talking.
"So breakfast Monday at seven a.m. at Bubba's?" he asks.
"Deal," I sigh before his lips meet mine in a chaste kiss. I feel almost cheated.
"You know what they say baby, leave them wanting more," he laughs as he heads out the door.
All I can do is laugh.
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