Fifty Shades of Grey

Oh... and part of me is suddenly insanely jealous - I'm disturbed by the depth of my feeling.

"I see." My voice is tight. "So you have someone you can discuss your alternative lifestyle with, but I'm not allowed."

He frowns.

"I don't think I've ever thought about it like that. Mrs. Robinson was part of that lifestyle. I told you, she's a good friend now. If you'd like, I can introduce you to one of my former subs, you could talk to her."

WhatIs he deliberately trying to upset me?

"Is this your idea of a joke?

"No, Anastasia." He's bemused as he shakes his head earnestly.

"No - I'll do this on my own, thank you very much," I snap at him, pulling the duvet up to my chin.

He stares at me, at sea, surprised.

"Anastasia, I... " He's lost for words. A first, I think. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended. I'm appalled."

"Appalled?"

"I don't want to talk to one of your ex-girlfriends... slave... sub... whatever you call them."

"Anastasia Steele - are you jealous?"

I flush, crimson.

"Are you staying?"

"I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow at the Heathman. Besides, I told you, I don't sleep with girlfriends, slaves, subs, or anyone. Friday and Saturday night were exceptions.

It won't happen again." I can hear the resolve behind his soft, husky voice.

I purse my lips at him.

"Well I'm tired now."

"Are you kicking me out?" He raises his eyebrows at me, amused and a little dismayed.

"Yes."

"Well that's another first." He eyes me speculatively. "So nothing you want to discuss nowAbout the contract."

"No." I reply petulantly.

"God, I'd like to give you a good hiding. You'd feel a lot better, and so would I."

"You can't say things like that... I haven't signed anything yet."

"A man can dream, Anastasia." He leans over me and grasps my chin. "Wednesday?"

he murmurs, and he kisses me lightly on my lips.

"Wednesday," I agree. "I'll see you out. If you give me a minute." I sit up and grab my t-shirt, pushing him out of the way. Amused and reluctant, he gets up off the bed.

"Please pass me my sweat pants."

He collects them from the floor and hands them to me.

"Yes, ma'am." He's trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

I narrow my eyes at him as I slip the pants on. My hair is a state, and I know I'll have to face the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition after he's gone. Grabbing a hair tie, I walk to my bedroom door, opening it slightly checking for Kate. She is not in the living area. I think I can hear her on the phone in her room. Christian follows me out. During the short walk from bedroom to front door, my thoughts and feelings ebb and flow, transforming. I'm no longer angry with him, I feel suddenly unbearably shy. I don't want him to go. For the first time, I'm wishing he was - normal - wanting a normal relationship that doesn't need a ten-page agreement, a flogger, and karabiners in his playroom ceiling.

I open the door for him and stare down at my hands. This is the first time I have ever had sex in my home, and as sex goes, I think it was pretty damn fine. But now I feel like a receptacle - an empty vessel to be filled at his whim. My subconscious shakes her head.

You wanted to run to the Heathman for sex - you had it express-delivered. She crosses her arms and taps her foot with a what-are-you-complaining-about-look on her face. Christian stops in the doorway and clasps my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. His brow creases slightly.

"You okay?" he asks tenderly as his thumb lightly caresses my bottom lip.

"Yes." I reply, though in all honesty I'm just not sure. I feel a paradigm shift. I know that if I do this thing with him, I will get hurt. He's not capable, interested, or willing to offer me any more... and I want more. Much more. The surge of jealousy I felt only moments ago tells me that I have deeper feelings for him than I have admitted to myself.

"Wednesday," he confirms, and he leans forward and kisses me softly. Something changes while he's kissing me, his lips grow more urgent against mine, his hand moves up from my chin and he's holding the side of my head, his other hand on the other side. His breathing accelerates. He deepens the kiss, leaning into me. I put my hands on his arms.

I want to run them through his hair, but I resist, knowing that he won't like it. He leans his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his voice strained.

"Anastasia," he whispers. "What are you doing to me?"

"I could say the same to you," I whisper back.

Taking a deep breath, he kisses my forehead and leaves. He strolls purposefully down the path towards his car as he runs his hand through his hair. Glancing up as he opens his car door, he smiles his breathtaking smile. My answering smile is weak, completely dazzled by him, and I'm reminded once more of Icarus soaring too close to the Sun. I close the front door as he climbs into his sporty car. I have an overwhelming urge to cry, a sad and lonely melancholy grips and tightens round my heart. Dashing back to my bedroom, I close the door and lean against it trying to rationalize my feelings. I can't. Sliding to the floor, I put my head in my hands as my tears begin to flow.

Kate knocks gently.

"Ana?" she whispers. I open the door. She takes one look at me and throws her arms around me.

"What's wrongWhat did that creepy good-looking bastard do?"

"Oh Kate, nothing I didn't want him to."

She pulls me to my bed and we sit.

"You have dreadful sex hair."

In spite of my poignant sadness, I laugh.

"It was good sex, not dreadful at all."

Kate smiles.

"That's better. Why are you cryingYou never cry." She retrieves my brush from the side table, and sitting behind me, very slowly starts brushing out the knots.

"I just don't think our relationship is going to go anywhere." I stare down at my fingers.

"I thought you said you were going to see him on Wednesday?"

"I am, that was our original plan."

"So, why did he turn up here today?"

"I sent him an email."

"Asking him to drop by?"

"No, saying I didn't want to see him anymore."

"And he turns upAna, that's genius."

"Actually it was a joke."

"Oh. Now I'm really confused."

Patiently, I explain the essence of my email without giving anything away.

"So you thought he'd reply by email."

"Yes."

"But instead he turns up here."

"Yes."

"I'd say he's completely smitten with you."

I frown. Christian, smitten with meHardly. He's just looking for a new toy - a convenient new toy that he can bed and do unspeakable things to. My heart tightens painfully.

This is the reality.

"He came here to f*ck me, that's all."

"Who said romance was dead?" she whispers horrified. I've shocked Kate. I didn't think that was possible. I shrug apologetically.

"He uses sex as a weapon."

"F*ck you into submission?" She shakes her head disapprovingly. I blink rapidly at her, and I can feel the blush as it spreads across my face. Oh... spot on, Katherine Kavanagh, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist.

"Ana, I don't understand, you just let him make love to you?"

"No, Kate, we don't make love - we f*ck - Christian's terminology. He doesn't do the love thing."

"I knew there was something weird about him. He has commitment issues."

I nod, as if in agreement. Inwardly, I pine. Oh Kate... I wish I could tell you everything, everything about this strange, sad, kinky guy, and you could tell me to forget about him. Stop me from being a fool.

"I guess it's all a little overwhelming," I murmur. That's the understatement of the year. Because I don't want to talk about Christian any more, I ask her about Elliot. Katherine's whole demeanor changes at the mere mention of his name, she lights up from within, beaming at me.

"He's coming over early Saturday to help load up." She hugs the hairbrush, boy has she got it bad, and I feel a familiar faint stab of envy. Kate has found herself a normal man, and she looks so happy.

I turn and hug her.

"Oh, I meant to say. Your dad called while you were... err, occupied. Apparently Bob has sustained some injury, so your mom and he can't make graduation. But your dad will be here Thursday. He wants you to call."

"Oh... my mom never called me. Is Bob okay?"

"Yes. Call her in the morning. It's late now."

"Thanks, Kate. I'm okay now. I'll call Ray in the morning too. I think I'll just turn in." She smiles, but her eyes crinkle at the corners with concern.

After she's gone, I sit and read the contract again, making more notes as I go. When I've finished, I fire up the laptop, ready to respond.

There's an email from Christian in my inbox.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: This evening

Date: May 23 2011 23:16

To: Anastasia Steele

Miss Steele

I look forward to receiving your notes on the contract.

Until then, sleep well baby.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Issues

Date: May 24 2011 00:02

To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

Here is my list of issues. I look forward to discussing them more fully at dinner on Wednesday.

The numbers refer to clauses:

2: Not sure why this is solely for MY benefit - ie to explore MY sensuality and limits. I'm sure I wouldn't need a ten-page contract to do that! Surely this is for YOUR benefit.

4: As you are aware you are my only sexual partner. I don't take drugs, and I've not had any blood transfusions. I'm probably safe. What about you?

8: I can terminate at any time if I don't think you're sticking to the agreed limits. Okay - I like this.

9: Obey you in all thingsAccept without hesitation your disciplineWe need to talk about this.

11: One month trial period. Not three.

12: I cannot commit every weekend. I do have a life, or will have. Perhaps three out of four?

15.2: Using my body as you see fit sexually or otherwise - please define "or otherwise."

15.5: This whole discipline clause. I'm not sure I want to be whipped, flogged, or corporally punished. I am sure this would be in breach of clauses 2-5. And also "for any other reason". That's just mean - and you told me you weren't a sadist.

15.10: Like loaning me out to someone else would ever be an option. But I'm glad it's here in black and white.

15.14: The Rules. More on those later.

15.19: Touching myself without your permission. What's the problem with thisYou know I don't do it anyway.

15.21: Discipline - Please see clause 15.5 above.

15.22: I can't look into your eyesWhy?

15.24: Why can't I touch you?

Rules:

Sleep - I'll agree to 6 hours. Food - I am not eating food from a prescribed list. The food list goes or I do - Deal breaker. Clothes - as long as I only have to wear your clothes when I'm with you... okay. Exercise - We agreed 3 hours, this still says 4.

Soft Limits:

Can we go through all of theseNo Fisting of any kind. What is suspensionGenital Clamps - you have got to be kidding me.

Can you please let me know the arrangements for WednesdayI am working until 5pm that day.

Good night.

Ana

From: Christian Grey

Subject: This evening

Date: May 24 2011 00:07

To: Anastasia Steele

Miss Steele

That's a long list. Why are you still up?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Burning the midnight oil

Date: May 24 2011 00:10

To: Christian Grey

Sir

If you recall I was going through this list, when I was distracted and bedded by a passing control freak.

Goodnight.

Ana

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Stop Burning the midnight oil

Date: May 24 2011 00:12

To: Anastasia Steele

GO TO BED ANASTASIA.

Christian Grey

CEO & Control Freak, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Oh... shouty capitals! I switch off. How can he intimidate me when he's six miles away?

I shake my head. My heart still heavy, I climb into bed and fall instantly into a deep but troubled sleep.

The following day, I call my mom when I'm home from work. It's been a relatively peaceful day at the Clayton's, allowing me far too much time to think. I'm restless, nervous about my showdown with Mr. Control Freak tomorrow, and at the back of my mind, I'm worried that perhaps I've been too negative in my response to the contract. Perhaps he'll call the whole thing off.

My mom is oozing contrition, desperately sorry not to make my graduation. Bob has twisted some ligament which means he's hobbling all over the place. Honestly, he's as accident-prone as I am. He's expected to make a full recovery, but it means he's resting up, and my mother has to wait on him hand and sore foot.

"Ana honey, I'm so sorry," my mom whines down the phone.

"Mom, it's fine. Ray will be there."

"Ana, you sound distracted - are you okay, baby?"

"Yes, Mom," Oh if only you knew. There's an obscenely rich guy I've met and he wants some kind of strange kinky sexual relationship, in which I don't get a say in things.

"Have you met someone?"

"No, Mom." I am so not going there right now.

"Well, darling, I'll be thinking of you on Thursday. I love you... you know that honey?"I close my eyes, her precious words give me a warm glow inside.

"Love you too, Mom. Say hi to Bob, and I hope he gets better fast."

"Will do, honey. Bye."

"Bye."