I sit up quickly, catching Ana off-guard. But I hold her in place and we’re face to face again.
“You. Are. Beautiful.” I emphasize each word.
“And you’re amazingly sweet sometimes.” She leans forward and gives me a chaste kiss.
I lift her up and she winces as I ease out of her. I kiss her gently. “You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?”
She looks nonplussed.
“All those boys pursuing you, that isn’t enough of a clue?”
“Boys? What boys?”
“You want the list? The photographer, he’s crazy about you; that boy in the hardware store; your roommate’s older brother. Your boss.” That untrustworthy fucker.
“Oh, Christian, that’s just not true.”
“Trust me. They want you. They want what’s mine.” I tighten my hold on her and she rests her forearms on my shoulders, her hands in my hair. And she studies me with amused tolerance.
“Mine,” I assert.
“Yes. Yours.” She gives me an indulgent smile. “The line is still intact,” she continues. And draws her finger over the lipstick mark on my shoulder.
I stiffen, alarmed.
“I want to go exploring,” she whispers.
“The apartment?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I was thinking of the treasure map that we’ve drawn on you.”
What?
She rubs her nose against mine, distracting me.
“And what would that entail exactly, Miss Steele?”
She raises her hand and tickles my stubble with her fingertips. “I just want to touch you everywhere I’m allowed.”
Her index finger brushes my lips and I capture it between my teeth.
“Ow,” she yelps when I bite down, and I grin as I growl.
So she wants to touch me. I’ve given her my boundaries.
Try it her way, Grey.
“Okay,” I acquiesce, but I hear the uncertainty in my voice. “Wait.” I lift her and remove the condom and drop it beside the bed. “I hate those things. I’ve a good mind to call Dr. Greene around to give you a shot.”
“You think the top ob-gyn in Seattle is going to come running?”
“I can be very persuasive.” I smooth her hair behind her ear. She has the most beautiful small, impish ears. “Franco’s done a great job on your hair. I like these layers.”
“Stop changing the subject,” she warns.
I lift her so she’s astride me once more. Watching her carefully, I recline onto the pillows while she rests her back against my upright knees. “Touch away,” I murmur.
Her eyes never leave mine and she places her hand on my belly, beneath the lipstick line. I tense as her finger explores the valleys between my abdominal muscles. I flinch and she lifts her finger.
“I don’t have to,” she says.
“No, it’s fine. Just takes some readjustment on my part. No one’s touched me for a long time.”
“Mrs. Robinson?”
Shit. Why did I allude to her?
Warily, I nod. “I don’t want to talk about her. It will sour your good mood.”
“I can handle it.”
“No, you can’t, Ana. You see red whenever I mention her. My past is my past. It’s a fact. I can’t change it. I’m lucky that you don’t have one, because it would drive me crazy if you did.”
“Drive you crazy? More than you are already?”
“Crazy for you,” I declare.
She grins, a large, genuine grin. “Shall I call Dr. Flynn?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
She wriggles on top of me and I drop my legs. With her eyes on mine, she places her fingers on my belly.
I tense.
“I like touching you,” she says, and her hand slips down to my navel, teasing the hair there. Her fingers quest lower.
Whoa.
My cock twitches in approval.
“Again?” she says with a carnal smile.
Oh, Anastasia, you insatiable woman.
“Oh yes, Miss Steele, again.”
I sit up and clasp her head in my hands and kiss her, long and hard. “You’re not too sore?” I whisper against her lips.
“No.”
“I love your stamina, Ana.”
SHE DOZES BESIDE ME. Replete, I hope. After all of today’s arguments and recriminations, I’m now feeling more at peace.
Perhaps I can do this vanilla thing.
I look down at Ana. Her lips are parted and her lashes leave little shadows across her pale cheek. She looks serene and beautiful, and I could watch her sleep forever.
Yet she can be really fucking difficult.
Who knew?
And the irony is—I think I like it.
She makes me question myself.
She makes me question everything.
She makes me feel alive.
BACK IN THE LIVING room, I gather my papers from the sofa and head into my study. I’ve left Anastasia asleep. She must be exhausted after last night, and we have a long night ahead at the ball.
At my desk I fire up my computer. One of Andrea’s many virtues is that she keeps my contacts up-to-date and synced across all my devices. I look up Dr. Greene and, sure enough, I have her e-mail address. I’m so over condoms—I’d like her to see Ana as soon as possible. I send her an e-mail, but I don’t imagine I’ll hear from her until Monday—after all, it’s the weekend.
I send a couple of e-mails to Ros and make some notes on the reports I read earlier. Opening a drawer to put away my pen, I spy the red box with the earrings I bought Ana for the gala that we never attended.
She left me.
Taking out the box, I examine the earrings once more. They are perfect for her. Elegant. Simple. Stunning. I wonder if she’d accept them today. After the fight about the Audi and the twenty-four thousand dollars, it seems unlikely. But I’d like to give them to her. I put the box in my pocket and check my watch. It’s time to wake Ana, as I’m sure she’ll need a while to get ready for tonight.
SHE’S CURLED UP IN the middle of the bed, looking small and lonely. She’s in the sub’s room. I wonder why she’s up here. She’s not my submissive. She should be asleep in my bed, downstairs.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” I kiss her temple.
“Mmm,” she grumbles, and her eyelids flicker open.
“Time to get up,” I whisper, and kiss her quickly on the lips.
“Mr. Grey.” Her fingers caress my stubble. “I’ve missed you.”
“You’ve been asleep.” How can she have missed me?
“I missed you in my dreams.”
Her simple, sleepy statement floors me. She is so unpredictable and bewitching. I grin as an unexpected warmth spreads through my body. It’s becoming familiar but I don’t want to put a name to the feeling. It’s too new. Too scary.
“Up,” I order, and I leave her to get ready before I’m tempted to join her.
AFTER A QUICK SHOWER, I shave. Usually I try to avoid eye contact with the asshole in the mirror, but today he looks happier, though somewhat ridiculous with a smeared red lipstick line around his neck.
My thoughts turn to the night ahead. I usually loathe these events and find them intensely dull, but this time I’ll have a date. Another first with Ana. I hope having her on my arm will ward off the flocks of Mia’s friends who try desperately to get themselves noticed. They have never learned that I’m just not interested.
I wonder how Ana will find it—perhaps she’ll think it’s dull, too. I hope not. Maybe I should liven up the evening.