My dear little broccolis💚💚💚
💚 So, this story is dedicated to two particular authors with whom I have briefly touched on those issues, and who make amazing stories. paleseptember10 & Krooela. Go check them out, you won't regret it.
💚 WOW! I didn't make you wait months on end! Enjoy ...
💚 Fallen Angel💚
How would have Christian Grey's life turned out if the Greys had intervened when Elena tried to sink her claws into him? Would he still be the same man as we know, or someone completely different ...
‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️
‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️
‼️AS/CG/The Greys/The Steeles/Jack Hyde/Elena Lincoln‼️
💚 READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER 💚
Chapter 57: Sins of the Flesh (1,5K)
Christian's PoV
I lean against the wall, my chest heaving, trying to catch my breath. Gia stands next to me, gathering her sweaty hair up into a ponytail. Her skin is flushed and glistening, and her sports bra clings to her, accentuating her toned stomach. She moves with a natural confidence, the kind that makes it hard to look away.
"Not bad," she says, her voice teasing but breathless. "Ana's definitely a lucky girl."
I shoot her a look, reaching for the water bottle on the shelf. "You sound surprised."
She smirks, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well… there's a reason why we didn't do this years ago."
I take a long sip of water, letting the silence hang between us. The air feels heavy, charged, like something unspoken lingers just out of reach. My mind flickers back to the past—those fleeting moments when things almost crossed a line. I remember the wet dreams I'd had about her when we were younger, and the way she'd once joked, more than once, about wanting me to herself in a setting like this. It feels ironic how life has a way of bringing things full circle.
"I don't know why we waited so long," she says, her tone softer now.
I glance at her, her words striking something in me. "Life gets in the way."
Her laugh is quiet, almost wistful. "You mean you get in the way."
I raise an eyebrow, but she doesn't back down, her gaze steady, challenging.
"You've always been like this, Christian," she continues. "You shut people out, keep everything locked up tight. It's exhausting trying to break through."
I frown, her words cutting closer than I like. "You think you've got me all figured out?"
Gia shrugs, her lips curving into a small smile. "I've known you long enough to see through the act. You're not as complicated as you like to think."
I look away, running a hand through my damp hair. "It's not an act."
"Sure it is," she says quietly, her voice soft but firm. "But that's okay. I'm not here to push. I'm here to make you sweat and leave you breathless." Her lips quirk into a teasing grin, but there's a glimmer of something deeper in her eyes.
The silence stretches again, the weight of her words settling over me. I glance at her, taking in the way she leans casually against the wall, completely at ease. It's infuriating and impressive all at once.
"We should do this more often," she says suddenly, her voice lighter now, as if trying to shift the mood.
I hesitate for a moment before nodding. "You know we will."
Her smile widens, a flicker of surprise and satisfaction crossing her face. "You mean that?"
"Yeah," I say, my voice firm. "I do."
She nods, her gaze lingering on mine for a moment before she pushes off the wall and grabs her shirt. Her movements are deliberate, confident, and I can't help but notice the way her hips sway as she walks toward the door.
"Don't disappear on me, Grey," she says over her shoulder, her tone teasing but laced with something more. "I'm a busy woman in high demand. Don't waste my time."
I don't respond, watching as she walks away, her words hanging in the air. The space she leaves behind feels too quiet, too still, like the absence of her presence is somehow louder than her being here.
As I wipe the sweat from my face, a thought flickers in the back of my mind—what would Ana think if she walked in right now?
The image of her reaction tightens something in my chest, but I shake it off, pushing the thought away.
"We'll see," I mutter to myself before heading out, the lingering scent of Gia's perfume still in the air.
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
I step out of Gia's building, my shirt clinging to my damp skin, the cool evening air biting at my flushed face. My body feels like it's been through the wringer, every muscle aching from another intense session with Gia. There's a certain sense of satisfaction, though, knowing I can put her in that state. Glistening, breathless, completely spent. It's not lost on me how sexy she looked—how the light caught the sheen on her skin, the way her laugh had lingered in the room even after she left.
We may have lost years because of my touch issues, and maybe I should have rocked her world sooner, but I can't deny that some part of me feels like, for the past two weeks, I'm fulfilling an unspoken teenage dream now.
The thought clings to me as I make my way home, tension knotting my shoulders despite the satisfaction. I step into the apartment, the soft glow of the living room light spilling into the hallway. A familiar melody hums in the background, and I know Ana is waiting.
She's curled up on the couch, her hair falling in loose waves over her shoulder, a glass of juice in her hand. She's wearing one of her oversized sweaters, her bare legs tucked under her, and the sight of her makes my chest ache. She looks up when she hears me, her eyes lighting up briefly before narrowing. Her gaze sweeps over me like she's cataloging every detail.
"You're sweaty," she says, tilting her head slightly, her tone casual but curious. "Did you go to the gym?"
I nod, moving past her toward the bedroom. "Yeah. Needed to blow off some steam."
She doesn't say anything, but I can feel her gaze on me as I grab a towel and head for the shower. The hot water does its job, washing away the evidence of Gia and the lingering scent of her perfume. But the memory is harder to rinse away—Gia's flushed face, her teasing smile, the way she'd said my name like a challenge.
When I return, Ana's still on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looks up as I sit beside her, the scent of my body wash clinging to me. She leans in slightly, her nose brushing against my neck.
"You smell good," she says softly, her lips curving into a small smile. "Didn't realize you showered at the gym now."
I force a smile, hoping it doesn't look as strained as it feels. "Figured I'd save time."
She nods, but there's a flicker of something in her expression—something I can't quite place. It makes my chest tighten, but she doesn't push. Instead, she shifts closer, her hand resting on my thigh.
We fall into easy conversation, the way we always do.
"So," she starts, taking a sip of her juice, "I was thinking about trying that new Italian place downtown. The one with the handmade pasta? Have you heard of it?"
I nod, leaning back against the couch. "Yeah, I think I've driven past it a couple of times. Looked packed, though."
"That's a good sign, right?" she says, her eyes lighting up. "Means the food's probably amazing."
"Or overpriced," I tease, earning a playful nudge from her.
"Always the skeptic," she says with a laugh. "Okay, but hear me out—what if we went for lunch instead of dinner? It might be less crowded."
"Lunch works," I say, glancing at her. "You're really into this place, huh?"
She shrugs, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I've been craving good pasta. And I know you love Italian."
"Sold," I say, reaching for her hand. "What else is on your radar?"
She grins, her excitement palpable. "Oh! There's this exhibit opening at the museum next weekend. It's all about modern art and how it intersects with technology. I thought it sounded interesting."
"Modern art?" I raise an eyebrow. "You sure about that? Last time, you spent half the exhibit trying to figure out if a trash can was part of the display."
She bursts out laughing, the sound warm and familiar. "Okay, fair. But this one's supposed to be interactive. They have these installations you can walk through. I think you'd like it."
I nod, her enthusiasm infectious. "Alright. Museum date it is."
As the conversation flows, the tension in my chest eases slightly. We talk about her work, the movie she wants to watch, and the plans she's making for her friend's birthday. It feels normal, easy, but there's an undercurrent of guilt that I can't shake.
When dinner arrives, Ana's mood shifts. She's more affectionate, her hand sliding up my arm, her lips brushing against my jaw as she murmurs something about how good I smell. Normally, I'd be all in, but my body is still drained from earlier.
I pull back slightly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm tired, babe. It's been a long day."
She pauses, her eyes searching mine. "Everything okay between us?"
"Of course," I say quickly, too quickly. "Why would you say that?"
She hesitates, her gaze steady. "You seem a bit distant lately. It's been two weeks since we've had sex."
I look away, running a hand through my hair. "I'm just tired. If you were officially living here, it would be easier."
Her expression softens slightly, but there's still a hint of doubt in her eyes. "Maybe."
She doesn't press further, and I'm grateful for it. But as we settle into dinner, the weight of her unspoken questions lingers, pressing down on me like a lead blanket.
❌PLEASE DO NOT COPY, DOWNLOAD OR SHARE THIS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE❌
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚
So ... this happened ... How ;much do you hat me right now?
P.S. I also published From Duty to Love Book 2, and it would mean the world to me to have your support! 💕
💚 E L James owns the names of the characters from the Fifty Shades franchise, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).
Love, Mina 💚💚💚