Thursday, June 9th 2011
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Ana stirs as we travel through the city, almost back to her apartment.
"Hey," I greet her softly as she wakes.
"Sorry," she mumbles, her voice still thick with grogginess. She sits up, stretching her limbs and blinking sleepily. She looks adorable, beautiful, stunning.
"I could watch you sleep forever, Ana," I tell her.
"Did I say anything?" she asks, wary.
"No. We're nearly at your place."
My words seem to disappoint her. "We're not going to yours?"
"No."
She straightens and stares at me. "Why not?"
"Because you have work tomorrow," I reason.
"Oh." Her lips turn down in a pout, and I have to suppress my amusement.
"Why, did you have something in mind?"
She squirms in my lap. "Well, maybe."
I chuckle. "Anastasia, I am not going to touch you again, not until you beg me to."
"What!" she cries, appalled.
"So that you'll start communicating with me." Using sex as a weapon of sorts has always worked for me before. "Next time we make love, you're going to have to tell me exactly what you want in fine detail." I pause internally for a moment, pondering the way I've said 'make love' and not 'fuck.' God, this woman is changing me; but there's nothing I'd like more than to make love to her.
"Oh," she says.
I ease her off my lap, onto the seat beside me, as we pull up in front of her building. It's not far from my own apartment. Just around the corner, really.
I climb out into the succulent summer night and hold her door open for her.
She steps out onto the pavement.
"I have something for you," I tell her, and move to the back of the car, opening the trunk. I pull out the gift wrapped box, which contains the Macbook and Blackberry she tried to return to me last Saturday, and the new, personalized iPad-complete with a picture of my glider on the lock screen, to prove that I built it and that it really does take pride on my desk; and for the home background, the picture of me and her, taken at her graduation. I've added the British Library app, which I know she'll love, iBooks, Words, a recipe app I hope she'll use, especially now, and a variety of music, which is the part I'm most excited for her to discover. And nervous about, if I have to be honest.
She looks baffled, and a tad suspicious.
"Open it when you get inside," I tell her.
"You're not coming in?" She looks crestfallen.
"No, Anastasia." Have I not made that clear? If I come in, I won't be leaving.
"So when will I see you?" she implores.
"Tomorrow," I reassure her, and myself.
"My boss wants me to go for a drink with him tomorrow," she reports.
What the actual fuck?
"Does he now?" I say, not hiding my displeasure. That's stepping a little over his bounds, isn't it?
"To celebrate my first week," she adds.
"Where?"
"I don't know," she admits.
"I could pick you up from there." I ignore the itch underneath my skin. Making compromises like this is unfamiliar and uncomfortable for me. Especially revolving around other men, and I don't like it at all.
"Okay... I'll e-mail or text you."
"Good," I say.
I walk her to the lobby door, and that's as far as I'll go. No elevators or apartment doors for us. I honestly don't know if I'd be able to control myself around her. I'm going to need her to start begging soon. Real soon.
She fishes her keys out of her purse and unlocks the door. As she does so, I reach for her chin, tilting her face up. Closing my eyes, I leave a series of kisses over her face, from the corner of her eye, down to the corner of her mouth.
She's mine. Again.
She moans softly, and the sound makes me stir in my pants.
"Until tomorrow," I whisper to her, and as a promise to my over eager dick.
"Good night, Christian."
I smile at her. "In you go."
She obeys, heading through the lobby with her box of gifts.
"Laters, baby," I call after her, then turn and head back to the car.
I situate myself in the front passenger seat.
Taylor has removed his ear buds, and has his hands on the wheel.
"Good night, Sir?" he asks.
"Good night, Taylor."
.
When I arrive home, I take a long, hot shower. I truly let myself feel the hot water on my back, kneading my muscles. I let myself feel everything, and I'm not so afraid anymore.
Despite the numerous qualms and hesitant worries I have over this next step in my relationship with Ana, there's hope there too. There's something new brewing, and as scary as it is, I'm excited for it.
Once I've washed my hair and soaped my body off, I step out of the shower, drying my hair and wrapping a towel around my waist. I head into my bedroom, pull on a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants.
I pick up my Blackberry and decide to check my e-mails quickly, before I head to bed.
I am exhausted after today's events, and I haven't looked forward to sleep for a long five days.
My inbox loads, and I'm surprised to already see an email from Anastasia.
.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: IPAD
Date: June 9 2011 23:56
To: Christian Grey
You've made me cry again.
I love the iPad.
I love the songs.
I love the British Library App.
I love you.
Thank you.
Good night.
Ana xx
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My heart swells at her email. I'm so, so glad she likes it. Hopefully she sees just how much I've put into this gift.
.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: iPad
Date: June 10 2011 00:03
To: Anastasia Steele
I'm glad you like it. I bought one for myself.
Now, if I were there, I would kiss away your tears.
But I'm not-so go to sleep.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
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From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Mr. Grumpy
Date: June 10 2011 00:07
To: Christian Grey
You sound your usual bossy and possibly tense, possibly grumpy self, Mr. Grey.
I know something that could ease that. But then, you're not here-you wouldn't let me stay, and you expect me to beg...
Dream on, Sir.
Ana xx
PS: I also note that you included the Stalker's Anthem, "Every Breath You Take." I do enjoy your sense of humor, but does Dr. Flynn know?
.
I laugh, shaking my head at my phone as I read over her email.
Lord have mercy. It's going to be a long few days... But I am so, so glad for them. Because I'll be spending them with Anastasia.
.
Friday, June 10th 2011
.
Andrea has managed to find me a slot with Flynn at 4:30 in the afternoon, which I am grateful for. It has been too long since I've seen him, and so much has happened.
"How have things been, Christian?" he asks me, from where he sits casually in his chair. The late afternoon sun streams into his office, catching the crystal paper weight on his desk, throwing rainbows onto the wall opposite.
I chuckle, because so much has happened since I last saw Flynn.
"Where do I even start?" I ask him rhetorically.
"The beginning might be nice," Flynn tells me, his tone sarcastic. He smirks at me.
I shake my head at him. "Ana left me last Saturday."
There is an immediate fluctuation of emotions on Flynn's face. Surprise, disappointment, pity... I resist the urge to frown at that one.
"And how has that been for you?"
"We talked last night," I report, picking a piece of lint off my knee, "And we're back together now, but before that..." I trail off, recalling those five days of night, and shudder. "I was a mess, John."
"What happened, Christian?"
"It's a long story," I admit, and John glances at the clock on the wall.
"We've got an hour," he reminds me.
"I hit her." He keeps his face expressionless. "With a belt."
"Whatever caused you do to that, Christian?"
"She asked me to," I say, shrugging, "and not in the 'she was asking for it' kind of way, but she literally wanted to see how bad it could get, or something along those lines. She wanted..." I stop myself, feeling suddenly, as if I'm choking on something.
"What?" Flynn urges softly.
"She wanted to know what it was like for me to be touched... And so I showed her. I was stupid, John, really stupid. I don't know what I was thinking-I wasn't thinking, I suppose. I sort of... Went off somewhere," I wave my hand in the air, "It was strange."
"Tell me about that."
"I don't know, it was like I blanked out. I was back in the crack whore's house, and her pimp was beating me, and her-it all kind of jumbled-and it was as if Ana just disappeared from in front of me."
"Flashbacks can do that to a person," John says.
I shrug one shoulder. "Anyway, she didn't safe-word, and that's just really fucked up. It worries me, because how are we going to communicate properly now? There's a lot of trust to rebuild."
"It sounds like you've already begun the process," he urges.
"I went to her friend's photography exhibition with her last night. We had dinner after. We talked. She... She looked awful, John. So thin. She'd lost so much weight, and it killed me to know that I was the one who had done it to her. The whole time, I had thought it had been only me who had been affected so badly by it, and here she was, just as thrown, just as torn up over it."
"Tell me how it affected you, Christian. What were those five days like for you?"
Internally, I shudder. At the memory of the nightmares, of the black pit of despair, of the dark, dark thoughts. "It was awful. Awful doesn't even begin to explain it. I've never, ever in my life, felt so horribly. I... Didn't think I'd get through it, honestly. It made me look at a lot of things differently."
"What things?"
I look him in the eye now. "I can't live without her, John. And that changes everything. Everything. I don't know how the hell I'm going to start, but I'm going to change for her. I have to. There is no other way. I have to be with her."
.
I check my e-mails as I head out of Flynn's office, and am glad to see there's one waiting for me from Anastasia.
I open it in the elevator.
.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: You'll Fit Right In
Date: June 10 2011 17:36
To: Christian Grey
We are going to a bar called Fifty's.
The rich seam of humor that I could mine from this is endless.
I look forward to seeing you there, Mr. Grey.
x
.
I smirk and type out my reply. There is excitement thrumming at my chest. I get to see her again. Two days in a row. And tonight, I will make her beg.
.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Hazards
Date: June 10 2011 17:38
To: Anastasia Steele
Mining is a very, very dangerous occupation.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Hazards?
Date: June 10 2011 17:40
To: Christian Grey
And your point is?
.
I exit into the lobby and head for the doors. Through the glass panes, I can see Taylor idling at the curb.
I make my way out. Taylor opens the door for me, and I climb in the car.
.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Merely...
Date: June 10 2011 17:42
To: Anastasia Steele
Making an observation, Miss Steele.
I'll see you shortly.
Sooners rather than laters, baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
.
.
My Blackberry rings as we reach the first stoplight.
I recognize my mother's number immediately, and sigh in exasperation. I'm not really in the mood for a long, drawn out conversation with her right about now. I have better things to do. I love my mom, but she can really ramble-about things I could care less about, as a man.
"Hello, mother," I greet her.
"Oh, Christian," she chides, "At least try to sound excited to hear from me."
"I'm sorry. How are you?"
"I'm fine, dear. It's you I'm worried about. I haven't heard from you in a week! Is everything alright?"
"Yes, everything's fine, mother. I've just been..." I pause, "Busy."
"Yes, yes, being a CEO will do that to you. So will being a doctor, but dear, I always make time for my family."
I sigh. "I really am sorry, mother. I promise I'll keep you updated on my life more often."
"How is Anastasia?" she fishes.
I smirk. "She's fine, mother. I'm on my way to see her now."
"Oh, wonderful! Do invite her to the party tomorrow."
Party? Shit! I'd completely forgotten! My mother and father host a charity ball every year, a fundraiser to help those in need.
"I'll do that, mother."
"We'll see you tomorrow then."
"Yes."
"Goodbye, dear."
"Goodbye, mother."
.
When I walk into the bar, I see him before I see her.
He's standing too close to her, arm on the bar. She looks trapped and uncomfortable, and totally lost, and my easy-going mood evaporates like morning fog.
I push my way through the crowds toward them.
Easy, Grey. This is her boss we're talking about. She only just started here.
So before I can be the intimidating CEO who could so easily have this guy's ass, I have to be the doting, calm and collected boyfriend.
Upon reaching them, I drape an arm over Ana's shoulders, staking my claim. As we touch, a current runs through me, and my anxiety is taken down a couple notches. It helps to touch her, to have her near me.
"Hello, baby," I hum.
I pull her closer to me, making it clear that she belongs to me, and I turn my gaze to the despicable Jack Hyde. He looks disheveled and pathetic in his off-brand jeans and faded black shirt. Such slime. From the check I had Welch run, the guy's a real piece of shit. There's something suspicious about the procession of past assistants, and it automatically makes me wary about Ana's position with him. I don't like it.
I turn my attention to Ana now, who's looking up at me, so trusting, and she looks immensely relieved. I grin briefly at her, and duck down to kiss her. I'd like to sweep her in my arms and deepen the kiss, but it's just not appropriate in a setting like this, no matter how much I'd like to show Jack.
I'm pleased when he seems uncomfortable, and takes a step back, giving us the space we deserve.
"Jack, this is Christian," Ana says in way of introduction, but I don't miss the undertone of apology in her voice. Why does she sound apologetic? Is she ashamed of me? "Christian, Jack."
"I'm the boyfriend," I state, like he'd missed it. I force a polite smile and shake his hand. His grip is weak and flaccid. I watch him size me up, and I want to scoff at him. As if, buddy. As fucking if.
"I'm the boss," he tells me, smart-assed and loud-mouthed. "Ana did mention an ex-boyfriend."
Does he seriously think I'm going to falter under that shrimpy glare of his? Heat ignites inside, rage spreading quickly like wildfire. In my pocket, my fingers twitch. I'd like to knock him out.
"Well, no-longer-ex," I reply, and I'm relived that I sound composed.
This is no place to cause a scene.
I have to be on my best behavior for Ana, but I honestly don't know how much longer I'm going to last. Better get us out of here. I'm ready to have her all to myself again.
"Come on, baby, time to go."
"Please, stay and join us for a drink," Jack interjects.
I don't damn well think so.
"We have plans," I tell him, smiling to myself. Oh yes. Plans, indeed. "Another time, perhaps. Come," I add to Ana, slipping my arm off her shoulder and skimming it down her arm to take her hand.
She's wearing my favorite pair of jeans on her, which show off that perfect ass of hers, and the light blue blouse Taylor bought for her the morning after she vomited all over her t-shirt at the bar. The first time I slept with her... The first time I slept without nightmares...
"See you Monday," Ana says, throwing a polite smile her boss's way, and then passing it on to the other people she was with.
It fills me with pleasure to see the disappointment and displeasure on Jack's face, before I turn and lead Ana out the door, onto the street.
"Why did that feel like a pissing contest?" she asks me as I pull open the car door for her.
"Because it was," I say, smiling at her. I shut the door and round to the other side, slipping in beside her.
I take her hand, planting soft kisses on her smooth knuckles.
"Hi."
Beautifully, her cheeks flush. "Hi."
She looks gorgeous, and radiant. A far cry from yesterday.
"What would you like to do this evening?" I ask her.
"I thought you said we had plans," she shoots back.
"Oh, I know what I'd like to do, Anastasia." I'd like to fuck you into next week, and then do it all over again. But you're going to have to beg. "I'm asking you what you want to do."
She only grins, which answers that question for me.
"I see," I say, grinning right back at her, "So... Begging it is, then. Do you want to beg at my place or yours?" I tilt my head at her, smiling at her teasingly.
"I think you're being very presumptuous, Mr. Grey," she tells me, "But by way of a change, we could go to my apartment."
She bites down on that lush lower lip, and by the look in her eyes, I know she's done it on purpose. I feel my own eyes darken in response.
"Taylor, Miss Steele's, please," I order without taking my eyes off of her.
"Sir."