A/N: Thank you to everyone for the wonderful reviews. It inspires me to keep going.
I do not own the characters. Characters belong to E.L. James. This is only for fun.
Ana's POV:
I roll my eyes and groan. Sometimes that man makes my blood boil. But now's not the time to continue this argument. We certainly don't want the family uncomfortable around us because my husband is an ass. We have plans for dinner at Grace and Carrick's house. We'll just keep our distance, get through this dinner, and continue our battle later. I wouldn't want to disappoint Grace and cancel.
The car ride is long and painfully silent. I pretend I'm asleep for most of the short ride. I don't want to deal with his brooding, his temper… I just don't want to deal with him. We're finally here. It's time to put on my happy face.
We walk into the house, smiles in place. Christian goes his way and I go mine. The battle line has been drawn.
I glance across the room. Christian and Elliot are barraging each other with their usual friendly brotherly insults. Ethan quietly watching them go back and forth, like a ping-pong game. He knows better than to tangle with these two when they're hitting their insult-spouting strides.
I sigh as I steal a secret glance of my Fifty. He's such a beautiful man... his copper hair peppered with gray, those seductively piercing gray eyes, his perfectly sculpture lips...Oh, I'd like to kiss those lips...his muscular body...Mmm, I'd like to touch every inch of that body. When he's not acting like an ass, he is the sweetest, most loving, romantic man.
He drives me crazy or do I drive myself crazy? I'm not really sure.
The more angry I get, the more I want him. And I'm really angry. Thereby really horny. I have a voracious appetite for that impossibly sexy man. I hate this. It happens every time. It's infuriating. My traitorous body is so weak.
Stop this, Ana! I must rein in my libido and stay strong.
Before we left the Big House, I changed into a cute teal tank top, short black skirt and high heels. I intentionally chose this outfit, a purely tactical change of clothing. There's no doubt it'll wind him up. I know, I know, childish. And honestly, not very sensible for a family dinner, but Christian has so few weaknesses. I know this skirt and heels will do the trick, make him vulnerable, and unnerve him. I'm secretly patting myself on the back.
Christian's POV:
Elliot is slinging his usual brand of nonsense my way. That's fine; I can take it as good as I give it... from him at least. I wouldn't stand for that kind of verbal assault from anyone other than my big brother. It usual ends with "Fuck off Elliot" and then we move on to baseball.
I peek over Ana talking with Kate and Mia. Whatever the three of them are bullshitting about seems to keep them all in smiles. I love Ana's smile. And the way a few strands of hair keep falling over her face is so innocently sexy. I want to walk over and sweep it back behind her ear. Touch her. Kate whispers something in her ear and she pouts. Christ, what I would do to have those full lips on me right now. That woman drives me mad.
That short skirt and stiletto heels she's wearing show off her beautiful legs. I know she wore that outfit to spite me...she looks hot. Really. Fucking. Hot. I want her naked... those long luscious legs wrapped around me, stilettos on... or maybe I should fuck her while she's bent over with that delectable ass spread out in front of me, legs apart, stilettos on... fuck it; I'll take her both ways.
Christ, this is going to be a long dinner.
Ana's POV:
Kate and Mia are chatting away about all of us taking a week-long vacation together. I doubt Christian would be thrilled with that scenario. A weekend, maybe, but no way will he share me for a week with other people...or deal with seeing Kate for seven days straight. He'd run his hands through his hair so often, he'd be bald by the end of the week.
If I'm to be honest, I don't want to share him that long either. We're both so busy, I really do treasure the time we make for ourselves. And I love Mia to death. But her ...ahem...enthusiasm... can get a bit overwhelming at times. Ethan has the patience of a saint. Christian claims it's not patience Ethan has, it's more likely earplugs.
Grace has called us to the dinner table. Time to sit next to the enemy and put on my happy "all is well" face.
Always the gentleman, Christian pulls my chair out for me. I nod politely. "Thank you very much, Christian," I say flatly.
He nods. "You are most welcome, Anastasia." As he slides my chair in, his hand brushes lightly against my shoulder. Electric currents ride wildly through my body. I freeze from the contact. I play it cool on the outside, while inside I'm having the hot flash of the year. I'm sure he didn't notice my momentary lapse.
Christian's POV:
We're called to the table for dinner. Ana comes to sit next to me. I can smell her sweet scent from here. I want to bury myself in the soft curve of her neck, run my tongue along her collarbone and breathe in her scent.
Cool it, Grey.
I was raised as a gentleman with proper manners and pull out the chair for Ana to sit. She thanks me, rather aloof and stiff. I push in the chair and my hand innocently brushes against her shoulder. She freezes. Yes!
Seems Mrs. Grey is not as stoic as she wants me to believe.
The table is non-stop senseless chatter about... who the fuck cares. Right now, I want to go home and fuck my wife till kingdom come. Then do it again.
I sneak a peek over to my side and catch Ana doing the same to me. She turns crimson and looks straight ahead almost immediately pretending she's invested in the idle chatter around the table. I have a feeling we may be on the same page. I casually look down toward her legs. I groan to myself. I want her. The frustration is building. Building. Building. I wonder if I could sneak her into my old bedroom and have a quick hard-pounding fuck to relieve some of this pent-up frustration. But Mia and Ethan's kids are still young. They'll be running all over the fucking house like they own it. So that's not an option.
When will this fucking dinner end?
Ana's POV:
Mia's girls are giggling as they run in circles around the table. They've certainly inherited Mia's spirited zest for life. Fortunately for Ethan, their son seems to have picked up more of his reserve. Elliot said something that resulted in a punch in the arm from Kate as she calls him an asshole. I love them; they're so perfect for each other. Grace and Carrick are talking about the Mediterranean cruise they just returned from. Retirement certainly agrees with them. It's too bad the older kids couldn't make it today, but they have their own things going on in their lives.
I'm trying hard to concentrate on the conversations at the table but the truth is all I hear is noise, noise, and noise.
Christian is pretending he's listening to all the chatter too, but I know he's preoccupied. I caught him peeking at my legs. And I know his thought process. He may be giving one syllable answers to any conversation he dips himself in, but his thoughts have drifted off to somewhere between my mouth wrapped around his erection or tying me up and fucking me senseless. Either would work for me.
When will this dinner end?
Christians POV:
Dessert is finally done. Thank fuck. Let's leave already, get the fuck home, and finish our argument so we can move forward. I want her all to myself. What the hell were we fighting about anyway? I don't even remember.
Ana's POV:
Dessert is done. I help Grace clear off the table. It's time to go home and finish our disagreement. I'd rather be wrapped up in his arms. Now, what were we fighting about anyway? I can't remember.
We say our goodbyes and head for the car. The electricity is sizzling between us. Our sexual frustrations simmering all night, ready to boil over. The car ride is quiet once again. The calm before the storm. Coming home to pick-up on a fight I can't even remember. Sigh.
As we get pull up to the house, Christian tells me he'll get my door. Always the gentleman. He walks around the car and opens my door, extending his hand out to me. I put my hand in his as he guides me out of the car. My knees are weak from his touch. I feel a jolt of heat through-out my body.
He stops and holds me. "If I concede that I'm an ass, can we make-up now?" he murmurs.
Considering I have no clue why we were fighting in the first place, and I strongly believe he forgot too (sometimes our anger is no match over our sexual chemistry), I gaze at him victorious. I slowly bite my lip and nod at him.
He closes his eyes, his face turning up to the heavens...when he opens his eyes again he looks at me with a fiery passion. "Let's go inside. Oh, and Anastasia..."
"Yes?" I answer.
"Don't take off the heels."