Fuck, it’s erotic.
She’s naked, her breasts bouncing, and I let go, climaxing inside her, my head back, my fingers digging into her hips. She flops down on my chest, panting hard.
As I recover my breath, I run my fingers down her back, dewy with her sweat.
“Satisfied, Miss Steele?”
She mumbles her agreement. Then she looks up at me; her expression is a little dazed, but she angles her head.
Shit. She’s going to kiss my chest.
I take a deep breath and she plants a soft, warm kiss on my chest.
It’s okay. The darkness is quiet. Or gone. I don’t know.
I relax and roll us onto our sides.
“Is sex like this for everyone? I’m surprised anyone ever goes out,” she says, with a sated smile.
She makes me feel ten feet tall. “I can’t speak for everyone, but it’s pretty damned special with you, Anastasia.” My lips touch hers.
“That’s because you’re pretty damned special, Mr. Grey.” She caresses my face.
“It’s late. Go to sleep.” I kiss her and pull her to me so that we’re spooning, her back to my front, and I tug up the comforter.
“You don’t like compliments.” Her voice is drifting. She’s tired.
No. I’m not used to them.
“Go to sleep, Anastasia.”
“I loved the house,” she mutters.
That means she might say yes. I grin into her hair and nuzzle her. “I love you. Go to sleep.”
And I close my eyes as her scent fills my nostrils.
A house. A wife. What more do I need? Please say yes, Ana.
FRIDAY, JUNE 17, 2011
* * *
Ana’s cry drags me from my sleep. Opening my eyes, I wake. She’s beside me and I think she’s asleep. “Flying too close,” she whimpers. The early-morning light bleeds pink and bright between the blinds, illuminating her hair. “Icarus,” she says.
Leaning up on my elbow, I check to see if she’s asleep. I haven’t heard her talk in her sleep for a while. She turns over so that she’s facing me. “Benefit of the doubt,” she says. And her face relaxes.
Benefit of the doubt?
Is this about me?
She said it yesterday. She said she was going to give me the benefit of the doubt.
It’s more than I deserve.
Much more than you deserve, Grey.
I plant a chaste kiss on her forehead, switch off the alarm before it wakes her, and get out of bed. I have an early-morning meeting to discuss Kavanagh’s fiber-optic requirements.
In the shower, I think about my schedule for the day. I have Kavanagh. Then I fly down to WSU via Portland with Ros. Drinks in the evening with Ana and her photographer friend.
And I’ll put an offer on that house today. Ana says she loved it. I grin as I rinse the shampoo from my hair.
Just give her time, Grey.
IN MY CLOSET, I slip on my pants and notice my jacket from yesterday slung over the chair. I fish through the pockets and grab Ana’s present. It still produces a tantalizing rattle.
I slip it into my inside pocket, pleased that it will rest close to my heart.
You’re getting sentimental in your old age, Grey.
SHE’S STILL CURLED UP asleep when I check on her before I leave. “Gotta go, baby.” I kiss her neck. She opens her eyes and turns over to face me. In her drowsy state, she smiles up at me, then her expression changes.
“What time is it?”
“Don’t panic. I have a breakfast meeting.”
“You smell good,” she whispers. She stretches out beneath me and encircles my neck with her hands. Her fingers trail in my hair. “Don’t go.”
“Miss Steele, are you trying to keep a man from an honest day’s work?”
She gives me a sleepy nod, her eyes a little dazed. Desire blooms in my body; she looks so damn sexy. Her smile is captivating and it takes all my self-control not to strip off my clothes and slip back into bed. “As tempting as you are, I have to go.” I kiss her and stand. “Laters, baby.” I leave before I change my mind and cancel the meeting.
Taylor looks troubled when I join him in the garage.
“Mr. Grey. I have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“My ex-wife called. My daughter may have appendicitis.”
“Is she in the hospital?”
“They’re admitting her now.”
“You should go.”
“Thank you. I’ll drop you at work first.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
TAYLOR IS DEEP IN thought when we pull up outside Grey House.
“Let me know how she is.”
“I may not be back until tomorrow morning.”
“It’s fine. Go. I hope Sophie’s okay.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I watch him zoom off. He’s seldom preoccupied…but this is family. Yes. Family comes first. Always.
Andrea is waiting for me when I step out of the elevator.
“Good morning, Mr. Grey. Taylor called. I’ll arrange a driver for you here and in Portland.”
“Good. Everyone here?
“Yes. In your boardroom.”
“Great. Thanks, Andrea.”
THE MEETING GOES WELL. Kavanagh looks refreshed, no doubt from his recent vacation in Barbados, where he met my brother for the first time. He says he likes him. Considering Elliot’s fucking his daughter, that’s a good thing.
When they left, Kavanagh and his people seemed satisfied with our conversation. Now all that remains is to haggle over the price of the contract. Ros will have to take the lead on that with cost projections from Fred’s division.
Andrea has laid out the usual breakfast spread; I grab a croissant and head back to my office with Ros. “What time do you want to leave?” Ros asks me.
“Our driver will pick us up at ten.”
“I’ll see you in the foyer downstairs,” Ros confirms. “I’m excited. I’ve never been in a helicopter.”
Her grin is infectious.
“I found a house yesterday and I want to buy it. Will you handle the details?”
“As your lawyer, sure, of course I will.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“You will.” She laughs. “See you downstairs.”
I stand alone inside my office, feeling elated. I’m buying a house. The Kavanagh contract will be a great boost to the company. And I had a wonderful evening with my girl. At my desk, I send her an e-mail.
* * *
From: Christian Grey Subject: Surfaces Date: June 17 2011 08:59
To: Anastasia Steele I calculate that there are at least 30 surfaces to go. I am looking forward to each and every one of them. Then there’s the floors, the walls—and let’s not forget the balcony.
After that there’s my office…
Miss you. x
Christian Grey
Priapic CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I take a look around my office. Yes, there’s a lot of potential here: the sofa, the desk. Andrea knocks on the door and enters with my coffee. I marshal my wayward thoughts, and my body.
She places the coffee on my desk. “More coffee.”
“Thank you. Can you get the realtor for the house I saw yesterday on the line?”
“Sure thing, sir.”
My discussion with Olga Kelly is brief. We agree on a price to take back to the seller, and I give her Ros’s details so we can move quickly with inspections if the offer is accepted.
I check my e-mail. And I’m pleased to see a response from Ana to my earlier missive.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele Subject: Romance?