Chapter Ten – She loves me . . . She loves me not
Ana
Kate, Elise, Mark, Erin, and I walk along the pathway towards another location in the gardens of this Tudor-Gothic castle property. It's now five in the afternoon, and according to Erin's checklist, we've been taking pre-ceremony photos for nearly an hour. Erin, in all her splendor and glory, is Kate's wedding planner. As Grace said earlier, her reputation precedes her, and the woman is a stickler for detail and efficient timekeeping. She gestures her hands and arms lively while we nod our heads to what we are hearing, I'm not sure if we all understand though. Erin is like a blur; you must keep up or you'll miss her rapid commands. While Kate elegantly takes her position before the tiered fountain, I notice Erin walking off in the opposite direction. I was told that Elliot was on the other side of the property doing his photo shoot with Christian and the other groomsmen.
Suddenly I find myself fighting a nauseating edgy sensation and I'm unable to focus on what's happening around me. Whenever the photographer's shutter clicked, I would look around suspiciously. Kate says he hasn't arrived yet, but I can't help but be apprehensive. Taylor is never far behind and he's unusually protective of me today, I've never seen him so intense or guarded before. Whatever Christian must have said has him on high alert. Nevertheless, it doesn't do anything to quell my nerves, I'm expecting Ethan Kavanagh to come up from behind and tap me on my shoulder at any time.
"I'm going to check on Kaylee and Leslie," Elise announces. Not waiting for a reply from us she darts across the estate back to the mansion.
Mark praises Kate for the beautiful shots and her diligence before he departs. She links our arms together as we begin to saunter out of the garden back to the house.
"You know . . . people say this place is haunted," she says blasé, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
I give her an undaunted, emotionless glimpse. "Is that supposed to scare me?"
"Of course not, you're magnificently fearless . . . Sometimes I wish I could be more like you," there's a bizarre silence between us as our feet pad along the grass.
"I wish that were true," I chuckle, "Your brother is going to show up here any minute and I'm not ready for it. . . ."
"Don't worry about him, he promises to be on his best behavior".
"Yeah," she thinks she can stop Ethan from doing whatever he wants, it hasn't worked in the past, "And you believe that?"
"No, not really, but you've got Christian and Taylor," she nudges her head to the man pacing ten feet behind us.
"Well, you shouldn't worry about me, I'll be fine. Today is all about you and Elliot".
She begins to smile when a small voice I don't recognize comes from her lips. "Thanks for everything, Ana. For being here"
"Kate, don't. ."
"No, really," she places a hand on her chest, "Thank you. I'm thrilled that my parents and my brother are here but, you're family too. I couldn't have done half the things in my life if it wasn't for you".
"That's because you procrastinate you slacker," I joke.
The sound of shoes hurriedly running towards us turns our attention to the house. A young, bright-eyed girl dressed in white with champagne color trimmings comes racing towards us with a huge grin on her freckled face. Kate removes her arm instantly, crouches down in her dress, and allows the girl to crash into her with open arms.
"Oh, my goodness, you look so pretty, Gracie," she beams compassionately.
"You should see Daddy," she states with pride, "He looks very handsome".
"Gracie this is my best friend, Anastasia. Ana this is Gracie".
"That's right! Kate told me so much about you," her eyes sparkle just like her father's, and the resemblance is so uncanny.
"Is your mom here?" Kate query.
"Yeah," Gracie turns back to the manor and motions, "There she is."
Kate politely acknowledges the couple standing in the reception area. I'm guessing that's Madison, better known as Maddie, and her husband Bret. Kate told me about them too. It's actually cool that Elliot and Madison maintained a decent relationship for the sake of their daughter.
"We're going back to the dressing rooms; would you like to go with us?"
"Sure!" the girl exclaims excitedly, then dashes back to her mom to inform her.
Mia
Sipping on a glass of sweet champagne, I take a moment to scan the small crowd that's beginning to assemble in the foyer.
I should have invited Drew; I look like a deprived spinster. But then again, who brings books to a packed library or sand to the beach? One thing, I don't do, is unavailable men, and I'm guessing all of them came with their girlfriends or their wives that are latched on to their arms. Whenever I would innocently go by I could actually see their hand tighten around their man's bicep . . . . . It's okay honey; he's not my type . . . . Go figure, the alluring dip showing off my cleavage leaves enough for women to frown upon and for men to get an eyeful to make their imaginations wander. I can't help it if my body is wound tight and I'm sexy as hell.
Walking through the entrance is a middle-aged couple accompanied by Adonis himself. Almost every woman in the room turns in his direction.
Perfect he's alone. Back off ladies, he's mine . . . . . He can't see me where I'm seated, which is a good thing. I don't want him to know I've spotted him before he spots me, and the way his body ripples under his suit is mouth-watering and impeccable.
I'm so glad I didn't invite Drew after all . . . . . . Slowly he filters into the room greeting everyone with a polite smile or a ridged handshake. I empty my glass and then graciously emerge like a bird flying out of a thick, tall grassy savannah. Making my way towards the bar, I can feel his eyes raking over the length of my swaying body. It doesn't take long for him to appear at my side, a respectable distance away. I keep my wits about me, keeping my eyes forward, waiting for the bartender to refill my glass.
"I'll have whatever the lady is having," he announces in a panty-dropping tone.
Finally, I turn to him with a raised brow and slowly evaluate him from head to toe. He's blonde, which complements his stunning green eyes perfectly and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. But neither of us gives anything away.
"You're beautiful, and I'm betting you already know that" he states as he takes his drink from the man over the counter, "Are you here alone?"
"That depends," I retort, "Are you?"
"Yes, I am," he presents a sexy smirk. "I'm Ethan," he holds out his hand, "and you are?"
"Mia Grey," He kisses my knuckles, skimming them slightly with the tip of his tongue, and with skilled reluctance, I suppress a shiver.
"Grey?" he notes subtly, "Are you related to the groom by chance?"
"Yes. He's my brother," I take a sip.
"Hmm, well there's an icebreaker. You're the groom's sister and I'm the bride's brother. I think we owe it to ourselves to get to know each other better".
I can't help but laugh at his remark. "That's smooth. You're Kate's brother?"
"Yes, the one and only"
"So what do you do, Ethan," I ask in a sultry voice.
"I'm into investment banking, my family owns a third of the best investment bank in the state of California."
"Really!"
"Yes. What do you do?"
"Well, I'm a fashion designer. Maybe you've heard of Pois Mia".
"Of course," he tilts his head while his smile deepens, "You're that fashion designer . . . Impressive. I finally get to meet the woman who clothe me for most of my work week".
"I'm guessing you have a few of my pieces," I say coolly.
"A few? You could say I have them spread all over my closet".
"It doesn't look like you're wearing me now," I say suggestively, scanning his delicious frame, "What is that, Armani?"
"Yes," he grins. "So . . . Are you going to take me up on my offer?"
"That is?"
"Getting to know me, because I sure as hell want to get to know you."
"Why?" I question his mind with a bold, curious stare.
"Why not," he smirks, devilish and sexy.
Kate
"There . . . you look like a princess."
"That's true, Grandma," Gracie remarks pragmatically. "But today, Kate is the princess."
"Oh! Well, isn't that kind of you," Grace winks at me with a twinkle in her eye.
"Thank you, Gracie," I smile benevolently.
There's a knock on the door and it opens when everyone in the room looks up. Looking directly at me and standing in the doorframe is my mother, tall and elegant with tear-filled eyes.
"Ladies, we should give Mrs. Kavanagh some time with . . . ."
"Oh no no," she interrupts Grace, "I'd rather if we were all here together," she smiles compassionately.
Wiping her tears away, she shuts the door behind her and comes gliding into the room.
"Why is the lady crying, Grandma?" Gracie tries to whisper. Everyone including Mother giggles at her observation.
"Because she's very happy, darling, that's Katherine's mother."
She twists her face unsure, "People cry when they're happy? I don't get it," she shakes her head.
Mother takes me by the hands and kisses me on both cheeks. I know she wants to embrace me, but this will have to do. After softly sobbing and a few quiet words, she moves to Grace and Gracie.
"Mrs. Grey, I'm so sorry we couldn't meet sooner."
"Oh no, Mrs. Kavanagh please, call me Grace".
"Then you should call me Jen," my mother insists, her eyes quickly dart to Gracie with interest.
"This my granddaughter, Gracie, she's Elliot's daughter."
Mother offers her hand to the little girl, which she humbly accepts. "Nice to meet you too Mrs. Kavanagh."
"You're quite a beautiful young lady and your eyes are stunning," she compliments, making Gracie turn beet red.
"Mom," I catch her attention to the other side of the room, "These are my bridesmaids".
Eagerly she hurries across the room to provide hugs and kisses to each of them one by one while I say their names.
". . . and of course, you know Ana," I conclude.
"Anastasia," she exhales, "You're still as beautiful as I remembered. How have you been?"
"Good," Ana replies faintly. Her eyes slowly become glossy.
"Oh!" my mother looks down, feathering her thumb along Ana's ring. "You're married?"
"Yes. But it's only been a week. . ."
"Then we have much more to celebrate," she declares excitedly, cupping Ana's face "Carla would be so proud. Ana is married and now my Katie will be married . . . I'm so happy".
Suddenly my mother burst into another round of tears and Ana slowly drew her to her shoulder, rubbing her back in circles. Not bothering over the wetness dripping on her bare shoulder, Ana gestures and wiggles her eyebrows at me as she continues to comfort my mother. Through the quietness, there's another knock on the door and it opens swiftly.
Erin marches in vigorously with a smile.
"Ladies, twenty minutes," she announces.
Gracie shrieks leaping from her chair out the door, Grace calls after her trailing the excited girl out of the room. When Ana reaches the door, she looks back at my panicky stare.
"Are you nervous?"
"A bit"
"You're going to be fine, and by tonight you'll be having too much fun to notice when I film you flapping your arms doing that ridiculous chicken dance . . . You look beautiful, Elliot is going to melt when he sees you coming up that aisle and don't be nervous, he loves you. Just as long as you remember that everything will be okay".
"I know," I smile, "Thank you."
Christian
I pace the vacant sitting room as silence reverberates through the empty manor. Erin has already herded the guests into the gardens to begin the ceremony and she should be coming down with the bridal party.
"Uncle Christian!" I hear that recognizable voice.
It's Gracie. Her eyes are illuminated when she comes running down the last flight of stairs.
Besides Mother and Mia, this is the only other female I've loved unreservedly, and she can get me to do anything in this world. Her name is Gracie Alexandria Grey and she just turned six. She's got her mother's bright red hair and the most effervescent grey eyes you'll ever see. I crouch myself down to her level before she flings herself into my open arms.
"What are you eating; you've grown a whole foot," I gasped in mocked astonishment.
"Noooo," she chuckles, "You haven't seen me in a long time, Uncle."
"You're right, and I'll make it up to you this weekend. When do you go home?"
"On Monday"
"That's perfect; I'll ask your Mum to steal you away for a couple of hours so you can meet my wife, Anastasia."
"I already did. She's nice and she's very pretty".
"Yes, she is," I concur earnestly.
"That's great, now you won't shrivel up and die alone."
I was tempted to smile at her sudden declaration, "What do you mean?"
"Daddy said you have a broken heart, I wanted to fix it for you," she nods with a sad look in her eyes. "I heard Daddy tell Kate last year that if you don't find someone you'll shrivel up and die from a broken heart. Can you really die from a broken heart, Uncle?"
"Maybe," I say to myself.
I look up just in time to see Mother now making her way down with the other bridesmaids, but I don't see Anastasia. Her timely entrance also saved me from responding to Gracie's question.
"Is everything alright?" she asks concerned.
"I was wondering the same thing," Erin interjects coming down swiftly to face me. "Is something wrong, Mr. Grey, why aren't you with the other groomsmen? You're the Best Man, you shouldn't be here-"
"I know, but I need to speak to my wife," I say in a moderate but authoritative tone.
"Christian?" Anastasia's voice beckons through everyone's inflated alarm. Before she finally descends, I extend my hand to her.
Unwittingly my eyes do a quick once-over of her body. Yes, she's outfitted in the same dress as the other women but for some reason, it looks different on her. . . . Sweet Jesus, she looks more beautiful every time I look at her. Quickly I take her to the adjacent room just to have a quick word.
"What's wrong?" she probes, scanning my face for an explanation.
"You've been avoiding me since we got back from Hawaii."
Her face relaxes, "You're doing this now?"
"Yes, I'm doing this now, what's going on?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Christian," she defends weakly.
"When are you going to stop lying to me," I counter narrowing my eyes, "This is the first time I'm getting a good look at you all week, you were either out, sleeping, or scarfing down a meal".
"Well, if you wanted to be alone with me so badly, all you had to do was ask," she remarks with arched eyebrows.
Side-lining her wit I get straight to the point, "I'm sorry I haven't been around most of the day. I've been tied up with Elliot. . ."
"I understand"
"I wanted to make sure you were alright before the procession starts. Is he here?"
"No," she begins to fiddle with her fingers, "I haven't seen him, but I'm fine, thank you. Taylor has been standing outside the dressing room all afternoon".
"That's good, well from here onward I'll be at your disposal, Taylor should enjoy the festivities, he's part of this family too."
A small smile curves her glossy lips, "That's kind that you consider him that way".
"It's true, he's done much more for me even before. . . ."
She looks down at us. My hand is still grasping hers, and it appears my hold on her has suddenly tightened. Quickly I let go of her and apologized.
"It's fine, I won't hold it against you," she quips.
"Hold what against me".
"The fact that you like to hold my hand."
My eyes dance over the curves of her inviting, glossy lips. Between my ogling and my temptation to kiss her, I notice when she smiles. Needlessly, I clear my throat to dissipate the lustful fog clouding my head.
"I wanted to make sure you're okay," I tell her.
She tilts her head and bites her lip with a smile, "You said that already".
"Right . . . We should get going then".
"Yes, we should, but you should calm down before you go out there, you look tensed".
"Yes . . . I mean, no . . . You look amazing," I utter blindly.
"Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself," her eyes approvingly skimmed me from head to toe. "Do weddings make you nervous?" she grins, "You didn't look this apprehensive when it was our wedding".
"That wasn't real," I shot off absentmindedly. Shit . . .
Her eyes are blank as she stares at me, the finality of my insensitive words crashes into her emotions, changing her mood.
"I didn't mean . . ."
"It's alright, we should get going," she's looking past me, "It would be selfish of us to hold up Elliot and Kate's day".
Before I could open my mouth, she lifted her dress slightly then hiked past me quickly and detached.
Elliot
One foot in front of the other, closer and closer to sealing a promise to the woman of my dreams. Together Mother and I walk arm in arm down the aisle between a gathering of one hundred and something people.
"It's good to know that Kate is not the only one who's nervous about today," she whispers intuitively when we arrive at her seat.
"You know me all too well, Mother," I kiss her cheek.
"Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?"
"Soon," I assure her.
Light introductory music floats through the air unexpectedly, and my gaze turns to the end of the lane. I can't wait to see Kate's face; she will be pleased with Erin's work. Rows of white chairs draped with white and champagne-colored tulle. Ivory, beige, and brown flowers in vases decorate the entrance and they're also adorned along the wedding arch. A sea of flower petals in similar colors lines the passageway.
The priest and I are standing together at the altar, both of us with our hands clasped in front of us, but I am impatiently rocking on my feet, our gatherers are probably as anxious as I am. No, I doubt it. They're smiling; some of them are murmuring speaking in hushed voices. I'm so fricking nervous I'm taking short and measured pants through parted lips. My soon-to-be wife will be walking towards me in a few minutes. I'm everything an anxious groom should be. I straightened my tie, making sure my jaw was properly shaven, tugging at my shirt cuffs. Curiosity gets the better of me when I spot Mia seated next to a man who has her tittering like a schoolgirl. I'm not surprised that she has someone new, she gets bored easily. I haven't met a man that's been able to challenge her yet. Most of them find her intimidating.
A collective hush blankets the atmosphere when Christian and Ana emerge arm in arm first down the aisle. Clutching a small bouquet to her stomach, she's looking directly at me with a wide smile almost like she's giggling. My expectancy heightens when the remainder of the groomsmen and bridesmaids file out one by one. Silence swoops suddenly as the traditional Mendelssohn, "Wedding March" comes on making the audience rise to their feet.
This is it, Elliot! You're about to make the most important decision of your life, so pay attention before you miss it.
She comes into the entryway and the first thing I see are her gorgeous eyes. Every inch of her face is breathtakingly beautiful. I wish I could stop time and bottle this moment so I can relive it at any time. Mother is right, she's just as excited as I am. From here, I can see her chest heaving slightly, her arm is constricted through her father's and her fingers are wrapped forcefully around the bouquet of flowers against her chest. A sigh of relief pulls my face into a huge grin, and she mirrors my actions immediately making everything around me fall into oblivion.
I inhale, watching her come closer, and the only thing can think of to say is, "I love you."
Ana
Knowing Kate, if it weren't for formalities, she would have ripped herself from her father and run down the aisle to Elliot. Their ridiculous grins have become contagious making everyone smile or in the case of Grace and Jen shed tears.
Sickening anxiety rips through me during the jubilation when my eyes meet his. Kate has just walked past Ethan taking my line of sight directly his way. Besides me, he's the only person who isn't currently focused on his sister. Uneasily, I swallow as we stare and mentally search out each other across the distance. During our staring match, something surreal slowly surfaces. Is it remorse, or regret?
The person next to him fidgets and then tugs his arm unexpectedly. His attention is immediately diverted and so is mine. Blank, I glance at the woman next to him, I continue to be impassive when I see her face, it's Mia. Mentally, my mind is perplexed by their proximity and their apparent familiarity. She smiles coy then wiggles her fingers at me.
Does she know? Did he tell her about us? I doubt he would be so brave to repeat that story to any rational-thinking woman.
Looking back at Ethan, he's wearing his trademark smirk and a gaze that used to make my skin tingle with sexual desire. Remarkably, I feel nothing, and I'm very proud of myself. The judge's heavy voice cuts through my thoughts turning my attention to the altar where Kate and Elliot are finally standing together hand in hand.
Mia
"Do you know her?" I whisper, nudging my chin slightly to the altar. "Anastasia"
"Why do you ask?" his detached eyes remain fixed on her.
"I seemed to have lost you," I point out.
"Far from it," he proclaims, turning his face to me. "What Ana and I had, is history"
"You and Anastasia . . . Interesting, please do tell."
"Nothing to tell, it was about a year ago we agreed to see other people."
"That must have been difficult," I lure.
"No, we just didn't. . fit anymore. She moved here, I remained in San Diego".
"Well, I guess that would make sense. Clearly, she's moved on and she's happy".
"Happy with whom?" his eyes narrow.
"My brother," I indicate to Elliot's left, "she's married to my other brother, Christian."
He doesn't respond or say anything else, but simply turns his gaze to the wedding party ahead. I sit back and observe his placid demeanor that's carefully masking the thoughts or turmoil that's flooding his head. Nothing shows on his face except for a slight tick in his jaw. It's obvious something inside of him still yearns for her.
Christian
I don't know if it's me or the fact that we're seated at a table with our parents and respective siblings, including Ethan Kavanagh. The sun is about to set casting a beautiful kaleidoscope of color across the gardens and on the lake's surface. As Elliot and Kate take the floor for their first dance as a married couple, the chatter from the guests ceremoniously dies all around us.
Mother and the Kavanaghs have been engaged in animated debates while Mia and Ethan are on my left schmoozing effortlessly throughout dinner and dessert.
Just look at him . . . deliberately flirting with my sister in front of Anastasia, classic asshole moves.
On this side of the table, Anastasia has been avoiding any prospect of a conversation with me since I mucked up over two hours ago. Only resorting to one-word answers and limited eye contact. She drinks the remaining of her champagne and stares indistinctly at the flute between her fingers. I'm reminded of the fact that she doesn't drink when she had her third glass, but we're at her best friend's wedding and her dickhead of an ex-boyfriend is here, so I don't point it out. Gradually my fingers reach for her hand resting on the table. It takes a while, but she responds by squeezing. The white torn rag of peace waves in front of my eyes and I use it to do the right thing. I get closer to her, so close our thighs are touching.
"I'm sorry for earlier," I begin in a whisper, "It was insensitive and callous, and I . . . ."
"It's okay, Christian. It is what is. I understand," she yields then glances to the dance floor, "Elliot and Kate look so happy, let's not argue or debate about this. I don't want to ruin it, let's try to have a good time, okay".
"Alright," I concur, although I'm truly sorry and I want her to know. I'm about to say something when Mia chimes in with an annoying tone.
"Maybe I should come down to San Diego when I'm finished with the tour," she croons loud enough so everyone at the table can hear.
"That would be nice," Ethan replies, "I think I will stay a few more days. I always loved Seattle, it's very welcoming".
"Good, you wouldn't mind. Would you, Ana?" her voice and deceptive smile slice through everyone around the table.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't want you to be uncomfortable if we were to start seeing each other," she motions between herself and Ethan.
"Why would I be uncomfortable?" Anastasia tests suspiciously.
"You were in love," she shrugs, "It must have been hard that things didn't work out".
It was quick but Mia glanced at me for a second. This was done deliberately; she thought I didn't know about him. A burst of applause surrounds us only to realize that Ethan and Kate have completed their dance. The band strikes up another song thereby inviting others to the floor. My sister and I hold our stares as the invitees spill onto the dance floor, including our parents.
"Is that all he told you, Mia?" words are flying out my mouth like well-aimed bullets, "Well if so, he left out a few things. Let's compare stories, shall we?"
She simply sneers and sips her orange juice through the straw.
"Did he tell you that Anastasia caught him with another woman when she went to visit him in San Diego, and to top it off he got the woman pregnant during his tryst?"
Mia chokes and heaves on her drink, being the gentleman that I am I hand her napkin, then turn to him.
"It appears that you left out the best part of the story, the part where you cheated and lied your way into Anastasia's heart then shattered it into a million pieces because you're not good enough for someone like her."
"Is that what she told you?" he clenches his fist on the table before flicking his eyes to my wife in a threatening way.
"Don't you look at her, don't you dare look at her".
He doesn't heed my warning.
"You sure know how to pick 'em, Ana," his eyes flashing with contempt, "Go ahead, you can have her Grey, I already got the best of her".
Anastasia gasps as he and I stand up from the table hurriedly, glaring; she grabs my arm with pleading eyes as the asshole dares me to hurt him.
"Don't do this, please. Will you dance with me?" she asks earnestly.
For her, I calm myself. My attention is now solely focused on the curves of her face, her lips, and the depths of her eyes.
"Of course," I nod, taking her outstretched hand gently, there's a noticeable hush when we move away.
As we walk to the middle of the dancefloor, I can sense him watching us. He should. It gives me pleasure knowing that she would rather be with me than him. No man wants to see his ex with someone else. I know. I turn to face her and put my arms around her waist then she raises her arms around my neck, meshing our bodies together. Trying to ignore how perfectly she fits in my arms is a losing battle. But how can I? The sensation is all around us. I'm not hallucinating, or I hope I'm not. I can't be wrong, I felt it when I kissed her on both occasions and it's happening now.
Our proximity gives me a needed view of her face, her eyes are fixed on my chest.
Deliberately, I slow our pace and simply rock her gently. Plagued by the images in my mind, my grip on her body tightens possessively. There's a sudden shift in the air.
"Are you okay?" she probes, avoiding my eyes.
"I don't know, why don't you look at me"?
She frowns, "You know why".
"You're right I do know . . . Anastasia, look at me."
Her eyes slowly trail upward to mine, and for a moment she shivers against me. I feel my upper body leaning forward.
"My head is telling me that I shouldn't do this," I whisper close to her lips.
A tiny smile appears on the corner of her lips, "What does your heart say".
"That I should kiss you."
"Then kiss me," she murmurs.
"I shouldn't want this . . ."
"No?" she cuts me off, "Then I want this".
I close the already small gap between us, brushing my nose against hers, testing the waters. She doesn't pull away, but her eyes flutter closed. My mouth caresses her warm, tender lips kissing her softly. Everything around us melts away. It's gentle initially, but then she melts in my arms. God, and when she parts her mouth the tip of her tongue brushes against mine. All rational thought and calm escape like a stallion running to freedom. It's an invitation I don't pass up. I return the gesture, kissing her firmer and with absolute intensity. Her taste is unforgettable, like fine wine to savor but more decadent than any age. Priceless and sinful, and this time it's different. There are no uncertainties or anything to prove. It's leisurely, languishing, and completely transcendent.
Our lips part and I gently position my forehead against hers. Not long after, my eyes look past her shoulder to the vacant table.
"He's gone, isn't he?"
I swallow and inhale, "Does it matter?"
"No," she mumbles breathing tight.
This time, she reaches up cupping the back of my neck and bringing me back to her lips, with an open mouth sucking on my lower lip and my tongue. Heat sears up my spine and through my abdomen, hardening myself against her body. I pull away mere inches from her face almost gasping for breath.
"Anastasia, we should stop".
"You're right, you should stop pretending. . ."
"Who said I was pretending," I whisper mildly irate, "You have a knack for bringing out the beast in me".
The side of her mouth kicks up, "This beast you're speaking about, does he come out often," she taunts pressing herself notably into my evident erection.
"Keep doing that and you might get yourself in a bit of trouble," I caution lightly.
"I'm not afraid of trouble, I thought you would know that by now."
Amid it all I realize that I have two choices; run from this or accept it.
"Things are changing, aren't they?" I ask.
She doesn't answer but her eyes are fixed on my mouth. I brush my lips against hers and kiss her passionately without reservations or doubts. Maybe it's the atmosphere or the music but whatever it is, make no mistake, at this moment, I'm drawn to her.
Elliot
My casual gaze roams freely across the open space when I stop, my eyes practically bulge out of my head.
"Kate, look," I point, directing my wife's attention to Christian and Ana.
"Well, it's about time," she grins wearily with her head resting against my chest. "They love each other so much, they don't even know it yet"
"I think Christian has a few more hurdles to jump over before he can love Ana."
"What do you mean?" she lifts her face to catch a glimpse of my expression.
"Can I have everyone's attention?" Erin announces suddenly over the mic. The music slowly fades, and everyone stops dancing. "We've almost come to the end of this auspicious event; let's hear it for Mr. and Mrs. Elliot Grey."
We both acknowledge the remnants of our guests as they loudly applaud, whistle, and holler.
"They're scheduled to leave soon, so I've been requested by the groom's mother, Mrs. Grace Trevelyan-Grey, to have some family photos taken. I'd like the families of the bride and the groom to assemble at the front of the property. Thank you"
My wife is exhausted, but she agrees. Throughout the ceremony, we didn't have any pictures taken with our entire family and it was good of Mother to notice. We take our positions as our relatives gather for the final photos of the day.
"Is everyone here?" Erin scans our faces.
"No," Mother says bewildered looking around; "I don't see Mia. Has she left? . . . Christian, have you seen your sister?" "
"No, Mother," his reply is elusive.
Between himself and Ana, they give each other curt glances and facial gestures but say nothing. Together, everyone is looking around, expecting her to come running out of the shadows.
Realization hits me and I lean close to her ear, "Kate, I don't see your brother either".
Ethan
I didn't lock the door, but who the fuck cares. If someone were to walk in right now, they might be fascinated, hey, they might even stand back to watch the show. In record time, I had my mouth on hers and her back against a wall before the door slammed shut. Our hands were anywhere and everywhere until I reached under her dress and ripped her thong from her body, and not long after that, everything from the waist down was crumpled around my calves.
I'm surprised I've lasted this long. Her pussy is so tight when I slammed into her, I thought I was going to die. She sure is a screamer, and that fact makes my cock even harder if that's humanly possible. I brace my feet firmly to the floor and begin to thrust harder, stabbing into her, pushing her hips down hard. I take a nipple into my mouth and bite down on her bouncing tits. This feels so fucking good. I don't mind the fact that her fingernails are clamped down on my shoulders or that the heels of her stilettoes are stabbing into the flesh of my ass, no. None of that shit matters. I just want her to ride me.
From the moment I saw her shake that sweet little ass towards the bar, I knew I wanted to fuck her. No. I needed to fuck her. Under dark hooded eyes, undeniable pleasure racks her face. This woman is making me feel like a king. She throws her head back and moans louder.
"Fuck, yes. That's good. That feels so good. More, don't stop, Ethan".
Her loud cries make a sudden heat tingle in my back and down my thighs. Our midsection collides furiously, competing on who can outdo the other.
Fuck me. My grip on her body becomes forceful.
"God, I'm almost there. Yes, yes, . . . ." her body becomes rigid against me, while she closes her eyes and muffles her pleasured moans against the crook of my neck.
That's my cue to let go. I plunge into her once, twice, until the most intense orgasm I've ever had in my life consumes me. I don't hold back, groaning loudly as everything empties into the condom inside of her. My forehead comes down on her shoulder as we both struggle with our breathing. After the spasms die down, I let her down easily to the ground.
I was worried that this was going to be a problem, but I could tell she's done this before. She isn't caught up on the touchy-feely side of things; it's all about the sex. As I gather my crumpled pants around my ankles, she goes to the full-length mirror, re-applies her lipstick, and places a few untamed strands back into place. You wouldn't know she'd just had sex against a wall unless you'd seen it for yourself.
"I can get you what you want," she says, keeping her eyes on her reflection.
"And what do I want?"
"Anastasia Steele," her eyes pierce me through the mirror, "and I can help you with that".
"Can you?" I say suspiciously, watching her walk across the room.
"Keep in touch handsome, it might be worth your while".
"I can see it already has," I add, straightening my tie.
With poised finesse and sensuality, she gives me a devilish smirk and sways those beautiful hips out the door.
Christian
In a hurried account, Anastasia reveals that she's going to get her things in the bridal room. Lifting the skirt of her dress between her fingers, she darts from the driveway to the house while everyone waves Elliot and Kate away. I keep my eyes on her while she jogs ahead of me through the castle. Moments later, my sister crisscrosses her at the bottom of the staircase, they both share terse but genteel glances before moving on.
"I'll be right here when you're done," I call after her.
"Okay," she replies before disappearing around the corner.
Slightly miffed and with accusing eyes I watch Mia casually stroll past me. Immediately I stomp after her to the adjacent room.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Why? What did I miss?" she sighs, not even offering a backward glance.
"Mother was looking for you; she had a few pictures of the family taken and Elliot and Kate are gone".
"Looks like I didn't miss much," she drawls, waving her hand over her shoulder, "Don't worry I'll make it up to her".
"This isn't one of your games, Mia. Mother does everything she can to spend time with all of us. We don't know when she'll. . ."
She stops suddenly then turns to face me, anger stirring in her eyes. "What, Christian? When she'll die, she's not going to die now so stop treating her as if she'll be gone tomorrow. She's getting the best care available, stop filling our heads with your bullshit doom and gloom theories, and who are you to lecture me about time spent with my mother when you're the one completely wrapped up since you got married".
"That's not true . . ."
"Christian, I don't care. I don't care about you and your so-called wife, things appeared to be real when you were all over her out there. What, are you trying to prove something to Ethan?"
"What do I have to prove to that asshole? He wasn't good enough for her . . . but he seems to be good enough for you".
She gives me a brutal once over before turning on her heels and leaving the room.
Ana
Honestly, I have no idea how I'd gotten all these things in this small duffel bag. Now I'm struggling to get everything back in place. Using my hands, I cram everything as tight as I can then forcefully try to zip it up. The door opens behind me, and I almost let out a sigh of relief. Christian has arrived at the most opportune time; he can help me with this. Looking around in a crouched position, my grin turns into a frown when see him hovering over me. My first instinct tells me to bolt so I'm about to launch myself past him when he slams into me throwing us both on the ground, he falls on top of me but takes most of it with his hands.
"Jesus Ana! Did I hurt you?" he asks scanning my face for discomfort.
I simply shake my head and try to suck in enough air into my lungs, but his well-built body on mine made it difficult to breathe. Before I can scream, he presses his hand against my mouth.
"Don't," he advises, "I just want to talk".
The sarcasm in my eyes alone was enough to communicate that I didn't believe him. He warns me again then takes his hand away slowly.
"Ethan, get off me," I growl, infuriated.
"No, so you can get up and try to run again, you're going to listen to me".
"Ethan, get off of me, now".
He inches closer to my face, and about now, we're breathing the same air. I turned my head quickly and closed my eyes trying to shut him out.
"You can't even look at me can you, because you know it's still there? You feel something for me, I can see it in your eyes".
"It's revulsion, Ethan, trust me," he inhales deep, smelling my hair. I know what he's doing, he used to do it all the time when we were together.
"I bet he can't make you feel the same way I do."
"Of course not, you made me feel used and repulsed and I don't think that's something you should be proud of".
"Still a horrible liar," he snickers.
"It's the truth, Ethan, it's over between us. As you can see, I'm married now".
"I don't know what you've gotten yourself into Ana, but this isn't you, and that asshole isn't your type. It's obvious you weren't thinking clearly when you met him".
"At least I wasn't thinking about you, now get off me".
"You don't love him, not like you loved me. I can see it on your face. Something's different about you . . ."
"Really" I spit, fiercely, "If you think I've changed it's because you did that. You, Ethan. You drove me to the hilt of depression and to the brink of insanity, and now you want me to listen to you. You don't deserve anything from me, I hate you".
"You're lying," he repeats.
"Get off of me, Ethan"
"I'm staying at the Sheraton for a few days," my eyes pop, "Oh yeah, you think I wouldn't find you, huh? You have two days, Ana. We can talk while I'm there, if not, I'm going to hound you until you come around".
"Leave me alone, Ethan, I'm married . . ."
"You will hear me out."
"Or else what, I'm not afraid of you."
"I don't want you to be afraid of me. I just want to talk about us, about what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you, Ana . . ."
"You've got some nerve, are you going to tell me that everything between you and Mindy didn't happen? That you weren't cheating on me with her and that you didn't get her pregnant before turning your back on her"
He goes silent, pursing his lips.
"Yes, I know, I know what you did. How could you? You broke up with her one month after she had your son, you're despicable".
"It wasn't like that; it wouldn't have worked out and we parted mutually. I don't love her . . ."
"And you don't love me; I'm not going to ask you again. Get off me, Ethan"
My staid, firm voice convinces him to release me instantly, and then he pushes to his feet. He looks down at me and reaches out his hand to help me up. I don't take it. In fact, I lift myself up and go back to my bag, slinging the strap over my shoulder. This time I walk past him bravely and uninterrupted.
When I get to the second flight of stairs, I realize Christian is not there. The manor is awfully quiet. I hurry to the front entrance, one, to find Christian and two, to avoid Ethan on my back.
Through the opened doorway, I spot the approaching flashing lights speeding down the long driveway. Anxiety floods my consciousness knowing perfectly well that it's a sign that something is wrong. Distress and adrenaline overshadow my already aching feet which take me thoughtlessly across the damp grassy area. My bag escapes my now frail grasp and falls with a light thud. To the left, a small crowd of despairing onlookers murmurs and whimper a few feet away. But what tugs at my heart are Gracie's wails against her mother's chest.
Mia's tearful face turns towards the ambulance when it stops close by. As I approach Christian who is sitting on the lawn, my hands begin to tremble. There on his lap is Grace. . . . . pale, motionless, and wrapped in a blanket.