A/N: Thank you for the readers following my story and also for the reviews.

Due to your awesome response, I'm giving you another chapter this weekend. Just a few answers to some questions:

Yes, I'm still going on with Eight months and eight days and will update shortly.

No, Ana is not Elena's daughter and a lot more Ana/Elena time coming up. It would have been an awesome twist though.

I'm unfortunately not giving away what happened to Elena or who she is looking for as she will tell Ana bits and pieces over the next couple of weeks.

Important: I do not own the Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters. They belong to the very talented E.L. James.

Christian POV:

"Because she is too good for you!" It takes both of us a minute to realize what Elena just said. As realization hits us, we both sit down and stare at each other. She is the first one to speak, "She's too good for anyone in this lifestyle. She's good and kind and deserves a happily ever after. She does not deserve what you have to offer." She says while looking down before she looks back at me, "I'm sorry, Christian. But she is. She's never been in love and looks forward to finding love. Someday she will find someone who is able to give her more and who will take care of her for more than a couple of months. Find another girl, please." She says with not only a soft tone, but soft eyes that look straight into my shocked eyes.

No one has ever been good enough for me. Elena is always trying to protect me from everything that she might perceive as danger. Now… now she decides I'm not good enough. Well, fuck that! I might not be good enough, but I've decided today that I'll try. For Anastasia, I will try to be good enough. I know that for Ana, just the fact that I'm actually trying, will be good enough.

"Elena, I didn't ask you to lunch to get your permission or approval. I asked you to lunch to tell you how I feel and what I think is the right thing to do and get your opinion. But since I'm apparently not good enough for Anastasia, I'll just do what I think is right. One thing I can tell you is that even though no one has ever disrespected me like she has, or swore at me like she has or even slapped me like she has… I still want her. She makes me want to kill her. I swear. I even thought of what suit to wear to her funeral. But at the same time, she makes things unpredictable and… I don't know… fun, exciting, worth it. She makes me feel at peace in the middle of utter chaos. I mean, she insulted me, assaulted me, puked on me and then passed out in my car and I calmly drove her to the hotel and put her in bed after I helped her to clean up. Then I got in bed with her and had the best night's sleep that I've ever had. Not even one nightmare or a moment of interrupted sleep. She held my hand during the night and I didn't pull away because… it was comforting. Don't I deserve someone that comforts me, Elena? I've never felt like I was being comforted. No one has ever held my hand before and it felt great. Granted, no one has ever, in my entire life, made me so unbelievably pissed off before that I could literally kill them. But even with all that, I still want her in my life. I don't want her as a sub, Elena. I don't know what I want her to be but I know that I want her and I'll take her anyway I can get her as long as she wants me too… and I think she does. There's this spark when we touch. There's the look in her eyes and the slight shiver when she knows I'm close. She makes me feel alive. Let me try, Elena." Okay, that was more than what I wanted to tell her, but oh well, it's out now. When I stop pacing, I look at Elena and she looks like she is trying to hide a tear, but I saw it before she could. What the hell is happening to the world around me?

"It sounds like you are falling in love, Christian. You might not quite be there yet, but you will be. You might not want to give that speech when you try to convince Ray Steele that you are good enough for his daughter, but it was good. I've never seen you like this. I would suggest a long session in your playroom with an experienced sub to get rid of all that tension, but I know that won't happen. I already told you that I like her, Christian. All I ask is that you don't break her. I know what it's like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and crushed in so many pieces that it's impossible to ever pick up and I can tell you, it's worse than any physical pain you have ever or will ever experience. That type of pain keeps you awake for a very, very long time. Nothing makes it better. There is no medicine to take it away. And it will break someone for the rest of their lives. So, if you decide to pursue her, make sure you don't fuck it up and if you do, call Flynn and fix it." She gets her things and leave me stunned at the table with a kiss, a real kiss, to my cheek.

Elena Lincoln was in love and someone broke her heart and in the process, he broke her forever. She is in her forties and still not over it. Since I know it was not Linc, it must have happened when she was really young. I never knew. No wonder she preaches that love is for fools. I think whatever happened to Elena was more than just merely a broken heart, but knowing Elena, she won't tell a soul as it will show vulnerability.

I use the rest of the afternoon to think about everything that's happened in a couple of days and how I've never experienced anything so infuriating or exhilarating as Anastasia Steele. She is truly one of a kind and surely if I pursue her, it will end up in heartbreak for her as I'm bound to fuck up at some stage. But then again, if I let her be and she gives her heart to someone else, how do I know he will not be careless and break it anyway.

Compromise.

I think Flynn is actually on to something. Compromise is about give and take and if we both do it, surely we can make something work out for us?

Us? Damn, I even like the sound of that.

Now I just have to get dressed and pick her up for dinner. Instead of taking her out for dinner, I asked Gail to prepare dinner for us and that we will eat it on the patio that I used all but twice and never for entertainment. Gail was shocked that I asked her to do something on her day off and also that it involved a woman. She assured me that the patio will be beautifully decorated for a dinner for two and that it will be ready by six.

I fully intend to get Anastasia from the ridiculous idea to visit the club tonight. Those clubs are filled with people with no shame or respect for themselves or others and it's not the place for a lady to visit… not even for research for a college paper. I only went there when I was training to be a Dom and a handful of times in the last couple of years when I was between subs and needed an outlet.

Ana POV:

"Ana, are you sure you don't want to come with us? We are going dancing… in Seattle… it will be so much fun. Please?" Kate whines for about the fifth time today.

"Like the last time we went dancing? Yeah, that ended really well for me." I say with a raised brow and my toothbrush in my hand. A girl has to have clean teeth.

"Ana, the last time was lots of fun. Shame really that you weren't awake to take full advantage of the situation… or the sexy billionaire next to you in bed. I couldn't think of a better way to lose your virginity." Yes, because every girl wants the first time to be out of drunken stupidity that she can't even remember.

"Kate, I'm having dinner tonight. Maybe we don't finish too late and then I'll meet up with you guys." I say to get her off my back.

"With who? You didn't say anything about a dinner date before."

I sigh and since I can't really keep it from her, "With Christian," and then I slammed the bathroom door shut in order to finish getting ready in peace.

When I open the door five minutes later, Kate is still standing where I left her and for her who has a date of her own, it says a lot.

"You have a date with Christian Grey and forgot to tell me, again?"

"No Kate, I was invited to dinner this afternoon and just didn't tell you until now. I can assure you that it's just dinner, nothing more." Definitely no "Yes, Sir" and "Master" crap. And then I get saved by the bell… or the knock on the door.

"That must be Elliot, but I want details tomorrow, Steele… full details." She shouts over her shoulder on the way to the door and I go to get my bag as Christian would also arrive shortly.

Dressed in black pants, a quite revealing black lace top and four inch ankle-high boots, I give myself a look in the mirror. All dressed in black is not normally me, but for tonight it seems appropriate. My hair is in a high ponytail with small pieces left hanging down my face and back to soften the look and it actually looks nice. My make-up looks about the same as on Thursday. Before I leave the room I grab my jacket and handbag and head into the living room expecting Elliot and Kate there.

"Hey, Elliot. How are you?" I say as I walk into the room looking for lip gloss in my bag. I must have put it…

"Hello, Anastasia." I hear from the window and turn to face the man haunting my dreams. Hell, who am I kidding? Dreams as well as every waking moment are more accurate.

"Not, Elliot. Hello, Christian. You look very handsome." And sexy and hot and… just yummy in his black slacks with white button down and well… just fucked hair as Kate would call it.

"That should be Elliot now." I see Kate rushing to the door, but I didn't even hear a knock with Christian slowly walking over to me.

"You look beautiful, Anastasia." He says as he stops before me.

"Please, call me Ana." I say when I could think of anything else.

"Ana," he says as if to test it on his lips while taking his hand to release my lip from my teeth. "Don't bite your lip," he says softly, but with dark eyes.

This moment suddenly seems very tense and all I can see and smell and feel is him.

"Hello, little brother, Ana. Are you guys joining us tonight? I'm sure it will be eventful." Elliot says as he walks up to us and gives me a kiss on the cheek before extending a hand to Christian.

"Unfortunately not. We already have other plans. Maybe some other time," Christian replies sounding a bit harsh. Oh yes, the moods. How could I forget this easily? "We actually need to get going. Ana, are you ready to leave?" he asks as he extends his hand to me. I take it carefully, expecting the electricity this time and when I glance up, Christian simply smiles at me. This man has a smile that would make a woman do whatever he is asking of her.

We walk down and drive in silence until I see a building with the name Escala on it. I don't know Seattle, but this does not look like a restaurant. When Taylor goes into the underground parking, I start to get nervous. Christian must've picked up on it as he place one hand over mine on my lap.

"Relax, Ana. I don't bite." He jokes, but somehow I doubt if that's true and I wouldn't mind a bite if he was the one doing the biting.

When we enter the elevator, Taylor has disappeared and left me alone with Christian. The air around us changes and the pull between us is more intense. I glance at the numbers above the door to avoid looking at Christian, wondering if he feels it too. When we reach the fourth floor, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I realise very soon that it was a big mistake and my eyes snap open to see Christian staring at me. We've reached the seventh floor and is it just me, or is this elevator extremely slow.

I've barely finished the thought before I feel my back hit the elevator wall and his lips on mine. My hands are pinned above my head with both of his. I feel his tongue licking my lips and open my mouth to give him access. He moves my hands to lock one of his over both my wrists before bringing the other one slowly down to the small of my back. I hesitantly stroke my tongue against his and it feels so good. He seems to like it as he pulls me against him and I can feel his erection press against my front. A soft moan escapes from my mouth and if I died right now, I would die a very happy woman. I feel an unfamiliar sensation and moisture that begins to form between my legs.

"What are you doing to me, Ana?" he asks with his lips barely touching mine and his forehead pressed against mine.

But then the elevator stops and he release me instantly. As if a spell has been broken. I quickly look down to ensure that I still look the same before I walk out in front of him. As I thought, this is definitely not a restaurant. Everything is white with the only colour the row of paintings on the wall and the large vase filled with beautiful flowers.

"Who lives here?" I ask, looking at the paintings and doing my best to avoid eye contact.

"I do. I thought we could have dinner on the patio, but if you would be more comfortable going out…" he says, but he seems distracted and even a bit nervous, so I turn around to look at him with his hand running through his hair.

"No, this is fine."

He takes my hand and leads me through the doors that lead to… more white. As we walk further into the apartment I expected more colour, but no such luck. Everything is white and sterile and big and… white. It looks more like a museum than a home, but I guess this is what he likes and it is his… apartment. I would not really call it a home. Home implies comfort, relaxation and personal. This is anything but.

"It's big," I finally find my voice. "And beautiful," I add quickly as big is not a compliment.

"I suppose it is. Would you like a glass of wine?" He asks holding his hand out to invite me through the glass doors leading to the patio. Why this powerful man would be nervous around me is beyond me, but he does look very nervous tonight.

"Yes, please. White if you have." When he smiles, I want to hit myself on the forehead. Of course he would have white wine. He probably has a wine cellar in this massive apartment. He goes to the kitchen to fetch the wine and I take to opportunity to appreciate the view.

When I go through the glass doors, I had to look behind me to ensure that I came out to the right patio as there is surprisingly nothing white. The table is beautifully decorated with a black table cloth and a black and white polka dot table runner. In the centre of the table are two small cubes with a mirror finish filled with yellow roses. At each place setting is a yellow napkin with silver napkin holder. On the other side of the patio are two outdoor couches, one against the railing and one against the window. There is a square table in front of them with a large vase filled with yellow roses as well. Somehow I doubt that Christian has chosen this décor looking at the rest of what I've seen thus far.

"Do you like it?" I hear his voice and when he notice my confused look, he point to the horizon with the wine glass in his hand. "The view." Oh yes, I came to check out the view. He hands me my glass of wine and I turn around to look at the view behind me. It's not quite dark yet and naturally a billionaire would have an awesome view.

"It's magnificent."

"It's one of the reasons why I bought this place," he says as he comes to stand beside me.

"What's the other reasons?" I ask, curious as to why one man would need so much space. I mean, it's the entire floor of the building.

"The main reasons were security and privacy. No one can easily get in here without approval and Taylor monitors the access," he answers and I get the feeling that it must sometimes get very lonely up here all by himself.

But then again, I'm sure he is hardly ever alone up here. Before the thought can sadden me more, I push it out of my mind and just try and enjoy the moment.

"I would have dinner out here every night when it's nice weather. There is just something in looking at the sun set that calms me." I say and shiver when he puts his hand on my back.

"Dinner is ready. Are you cold? Would you like me to get your jacket?" Why would he…?

"Uhm, yes please." Putting on a jacket is better than trying to explain that I'm not cold but shivering.

Dinner is pleasant and he tells me more about what he does for a living. Mergers and acquisitions sound boring to me, but then again, I was never a big fan of numbers. I like working with people even though I'm a bit shy. I feel good when I can see that I helped someone. When he asks me if I like to travel, I quickly say yes even though I've never left the USA. It sounds like he has been just about everywhere. When he asks me what places I would like to visit, the answer comes quickly.

"Africa. I would like to someday be in a position to help provide some relief for the people there. People here don't realize how fortunate they are and… I just like to help people." Obviously, that was not the answer he was expecting. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, I just expected you to say Paris, Rome or some holiday destination. That's not a frequent answer to that question."

"Have you ever been to Africa?" I ask even though it doesn't seem like the sort of place someone like him would visit. He looks more like the Aspen type.

"I actually go twice a year for a week at a time. My company has an outreach program in Darfur that provides food and medical supplies to the people there. I go there to ensure that the funds are used for what it was intended and that food is distributed fairly to feed as many people as possible. I don't like the idea of anyone going hungry. I know what it's like to be hungry and I would not want that for anyone." He says sadly but then looks like he immediately looks like he regrets his words, so I'm surprised when he continues, "Before I was adopted at the age of four I remember being hungry." And with a slight shake of his head and a quick hand through his hair, his mood swifts and he's back in control again.

Somehow I feel compelled to finish the food on my plate and smile when it seems to please him. It wasn't really very hard to finish. The food was restaurant quality and I should not have expected anything less. The salmon and salad starter was awesome, complete with pomegranate pips. For the main course we had lamb chops with roasted veggies and spicy rice. He gets up and leads me to the couches with a new glass of wine. I think it is about the third and I should stop drinking soon. When he starts talking, I take it that the light conversation of earlier is finished for the night.

"Anastasia," okay, we're back to Anastasia now, "where do you see this," he points between us, "going?"

"Excuse me?" I ask, clearly confused as last time I checked, he was into beating woman and that shit won't fly with me. I wouldn't mind a kiss like earlier though.

"Do you see… us… becoming something…" he seems at a loss for words, so I finish for him.

"More?" Also not sure it's the right word, even though it seems like it.

"Yes… more?"

"Christian, we want different things. I have never been in love before and never had a boyfriend before, but I want hearts and flowers. I want someone to cook for and cuddle with at night. I want someone to have intimate moments with where we can just relax and be together. I want someone who would do small things for me simply because he knows it will make me smile." He seems a bit taken back, but I take a deep breath and continue, "You want something totally different. You prefer whips and chains and woman to call you 'Sir'. You want some to tie to a bed and beat with a cane or something. I'm not that girl, Christian. I will never be that girl. Hitting is… what did Elena call it? A hard limit. I won't be okay with that. I'm sorry, but it's just not for me." I finish and look into his eyes, but his look is surprising calm taking into account what I just said to him.

"Ana, no one has ever spoken to me like you do. For the last couple of days my life was not filled with the same routine and the control I'm used to, but it's been exciting. You made me angrier that I've ever been before, to the point where I thought I would resort to physical violence, but… you make me feel at peace and I don't remember ever feeling at peace before. When you held my hand while we slept on Friday morning, I felt comforted, also not something I've ever felt before. I don't know why exactly, but I like it when I'm around you. You make me feel alive. I like your smart mouth and your honesty. I think mostly, I like the way you see me… as me. Not someone who can do something for you or someone you can get something from, but me." I'm not sure he is aware of the fact that his pacing in front of me until he stops to bend down in front of me, taking both hands in his, sending that spark through my body and I gasp. "You feel that, don't you? I've never felt that before. We will be so good together, Ana. I'm sure we could work out the rest, but I want you… more than I've ever wanted anything before. If I never get to go into my playroom again, that would be fine as long as I have you close to me." Playroom? He has a private playroom? At his house? Obviously seeing the surprise on my face, he takes my hand in his and pulls me to follow him. "Might as well go all in and get it over with." I hear him say to himself.

We walk to the doors through which we came in and for a second I'm relieved. Perhaps his playroom is not in his apartment. My relief is short lived when we stop at the door at the right of the double doors.

"Anastasia, you can leave at any time. If you feel uncomfortable, we leave." He says, clearly unsure of what I will decide.

"Show me," I say and put my hand back in his.

We walk up the stairs and turn right to stop in front of another closed door. Does this man keep everything closed? He takes a key from his pocket and unlocks the door. When he opens it, he stands back and I walk in first.

Holy shit!

It's not white.

Should I be worried that I'm looking at, what could be called a torture chamber, and my first thought is about the colour scheme? Taking a closer look around the room, it's hard to focus on anything apart from the massive bed in the centre of the room. Why would he need this massive bed? I mean, it's a four poster bed that dominates the room. It's even bigger than a king size bed. I thought king size was the biggest bed available, but it seems I was wrong.

I walk further into the room and notice the smell; it smells like leather, wood and polish with a faint citrus scent. The lighting is soft and subtle in the cornice of the room, emitting an ambient glow. The walls and ceiling are a deep red. There is a large wooden cross fastened to the wall facing the door which is made out of high-polished mahogany with restraining cuffs in each corner. By the door are two poles, curtain like. From them swings a startling assortment of paddles, whips, riding crops and floggers. They might be part of foreplay for him, but none of these will ever come into contact with my skin.

On the other side is a huge mahogany chest of drawers that looks custom designed to fit whatever torture tools it has to contain. When I let my fingers run along the polished surface, he walks over to stand beside me. Even with the strong scent already filling the room, I can smell his scent as if it is the only scent in the room. His close proximity also makes me feel safe and like I belong. That has been a problem for me ever since I could remember… feeling like I belong, like I'm wanted. I know it's irrational since I have Ray, my mom and a close group of friends, but standing next to Christian just feels right.

"Open it," he says, pulling the first drawer open himself.

It contains a vast selection of vibrators and clamps. I'm suddenly glad for my little research on Wikipedia leading me to the page containing the implements and toys used in his lifestyle. I put my hand softly on his, briefly enjoying the contact, and close the drawer. I open the second drawer to find it filled with cuffs, blindfolds and other forms of items used for restraining the submissives. I wonder how Sir would like to be restrained by this. When I smile, he frowns. When I look at his hands, my imagination runs wild and I can see myself bound to the massive bed with those hands roaming all over my body. He lifts his hand to gently tug on my bottom lip until I release it.

"Don't do that, please," he says and it's my turn to frown. I close the drawer and turn to face him with my back against the drawers and my hands on either side of me, gripping on the top.

"Why do you keep saying that?" I ask and when he bends his head to come closer, I close my eyes, thinking he is going to kiss me. Even his torture chamber won't make me afraid to let him kiss me. What normal woman would not want to be kissed by him like earlier?

"Because I want to bite that lip too," he whispers into my ear and then pulls away quickly. Luckily I'm already gripping to the top of the chest as I would be on the ground now if I wasn't. Oh, he's good. He grabs my hand and leads me quickly out of the room, "I can't think with you in there. Let's talk down stairs."

It seems apartments like this come complete with miracle workers. In the fireplace a fire is burning and the doors leading to the patio has been closed. I bet the patio is once again spotless, like the rest of the place. On the table is a bottle of white wine and two glasses, in front of an oversized white couch. Not even a scatter cushion to add a bit of colour. We sit down and Christian pours each of us a glass of wine. After handing my glass to me, he takes his and gulps down half of the wine.

"What do you think of the playroom?" he asks, looking with that emotionless expression into my eyes.

"It's not white," I say the first thought I had, but immediately regret it when he glances around the room and smile shyly at me.

"Yes, it's not white,"

"Christian, that's just not me. The non-punishing things seems like it could be… I don't know… enjoyable. The bed is amazing, although leather is not really my thing. It makes me feel icky and sticky and sweaty. The cross is beautiful and the chest of drawers is interesting. The implements next to the door freak me out and make me scared. I'm not sure what exactly you want me to say," I tell him honestly. "Maybe you should just tell me, in no uncertain terms, what it is you want from me." I put the ball in his court.

"Whatever you are willing to give me, Ana." Comes his quick reply and I move in order to put a hand on his face. Initially he looks like he might push me away. That quickly makes way for fear before he relax when he sees where my hand is going.

"What if I ask you for hearts and flowers? What if I want you to hold me instead of beating me?" I look into his eyes, knowing full well that his next response may be the reason why I never get to touch him again.

"I would try and give it to you. I've never done hearts and flowers and I will fuck it up several times, but I will try." He answers honestly before getting that nervous look again, "Would you try?" he asks and I frown, "To give me what I want, apart from you? No punishments… just pleasure."

"I'm not sure what you mean?" Oh hell, please don't say you want me to stand still and take a beating.

"Let's start at the beginning. When you've had sex before, what did you like about it?" Fuck! This is worse. What do I tell him? Nothing, because that's the truth. But since he is being so open and honest, I decide to go all in too and she what happens.

"I've… never… had sex before," I quickly say the last part before I lose my nerve. His face pales before he slowly pulls his hand from mine to stand up. The shock is immediately replaced with anger when our eyes lock.

A/N: Please, please review.