“Do you have any happy memories of your childhood?”
“I recall the crack whore baking. I remember the smell. A birthday cake, I think. For me.”
Mommy is in the kitchen.
It smells of nice.
Nice and warm and chocolate.
She sings.
Mommy’s Happy song.
She smiles. “This is for you, Maggot.”
For me!
“And then there’s Mia’s arrival with my mom and dad. My mom was worried about my reaction, but I adored baby Mia immediately. My first word was ‘Mia.’ I remember my first piano lesson. Miss Kathie, my tutor, was awesome. She kept horses, too.”
“You said your mom saved you. How?”
Grace? Isn’t it obvious?
“She adopted me. I thought she was an angel when I first met her. She was dressed in white and so gentle and calm as she examined me. I’ll never forget that. If she’d said no, or if Carrick had said no…”
Fuck. I’d be dead by now.
I glance at my alarm clock: 6:15. “This is all a little deep for so early in the morning.”
“I have made a vow to get to know you better,” Ana says, looking both earnest and mischievous at once.
“Did you, now, Miss Steele? I thought you wanted to know if I preferred coffee or tea. Anyway, I can think of one way you can get to know me.” I nudge her with my erection.
“I think I know you quite well enough that way.”
I grin. “I don’t think I’ll ever get to know you well enough that way. There are definite advantages to waking up beside you.” I nuzzle her ear.
“Don’t you have to get up?”
“Not this morning. Only one place I want to be up right now, Miss Steele.”
“Christian!”
I roll on top of her and grab her hands so they are above her head, and kiss her throat. “Oh, Miss Steele.” Holding both her hands in one of mine, I skim my other hand down her body and at a leisurely pace hitch up her satin nightgown, until my arousal is cradled against her sex. “Oh, what I’d like to do to you,” I whisper.
She smiles and tilts her pelvis up to meet me.
Naughty girl.
First, we need a condom.
I reach over to my bedside table.
ANA JOINS ME AT the breakfast bar. She’s wearing a light blue dress and high-heeled pumps. Again, she looks stunning. I watch her devour her breakfast. I’m relaxed. Happy, even. She’s said she’ll move in with me and I started my day with a bang. I smirk and wonder if Ana would find that funny. She turns to me. “When am I going to meet your trainer, Claude, and put him through his paces?”
“Depends if you want to go to New York this weekend or not—unless you’d like to see him early one morning this week. I’ll ask Andrea to check on his schedule and get back to you.”
“Andrea?”
“My PA.”
She’s back today. What a relief.
“One of your many blondes?”
“She’s not mine. She works for me. You’re mine.”
“I work for you.”
Oh yes! “So you do.”
“Maybe Claude can teach me to kickbox,” Ana says, but she’s grinning like a fool, too.
Clearly she wants to improve her odds against me. Now, this could be interesting. “Bring it on, Miss Steele.”
Ana takes a bite of her pancake and glances behind her. “You put the lid of the piano back up.”
“I closed it last night so as not to disturb you. Guess it didn’t work, but I’m glad it didn’t.”
Ana blushes.
Yes. There’s a lot to be said for piano sex. And sex first thing in the morning. It’s great for my mood.
Mrs. Jones interrupts our moment. She leans over and places a paper bag with Ana’s lunch inside in front of her. “For later, Ana. Tuna, okay?”
“Oh yes. Thank you, Mrs. Jones.” Ana gives her a broad smile, which Gail reciprocates, and then Gail leaves the room to give us some privacy. This is new to Gail, too. It’s unusual for me to have anyone here during the week. The only other time has been with Ana.
“Can I ask you something?” Ana interrupts my thoughts.
“Of course.”
“And you won’t be angry?”
“Is it about Elena?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t be angry.”
“But I now have a supplementary question.”
“Oh?”
“Which is about her.”
My sense of humor evaporates. “What?”
“Why do you get so mad when I ask you about her?”
“Honestly?” I ask.
“I thought you were always honest with me.”
“I endeavor to be.”
“That sounds like a very evasive answer.”
“I am always honest with you, Ana. I don’t want to play games. Well, not those sorts of games,” I add.
“What sort of games do you want to play?” Ana blinks, pretending to be clueless.
“Miss Steele, you are so easily distracted.”
She laughs, and the sight and sound of her doing so restore my good humor. “Mr. Grey, you are distracting on so many levels.”
“My favorite sound in the whole world is your giggle, Anastasia. Now—what was your original question?”
“Oh yes. You only saw your subs on the weekends?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Where is she going with this?
“So no sex during the week.” She glances at the living room entrance; she’s checking that no one can hear.
I laugh. “Oh, that’s where we’re going with this. Why do you think I work out every weekday?”
Today is different. Sex on a workday. Before breakfast. The last time that happened was on a desk in my study with you, Anastasia.
“You look very pleased with yourself, Miss Steele.”
“I am, Mr. Grey.”
“You should be. Now eat your breakfast.”
WE RIDE DOWN IN the elevator with Taylor and Sawyer, and our collective good mood continues in the car. Taylor and Sawyer are up front when we set off for SIP.
Yes, I could definitely get used to this.
Ana is buoyant. She steals glances at me, or is it me who’s stealing glances at her?
“Didn’t you say your roommate’s brother was arriving today?” I ask her.
“Oh, Ethan,” she exclaims. “I forgot. Oh, Christian, thank you for reminding me. I’ll have to go back to the apartment.”
“What time?”
“I’m not sure what time he’s arriving.”
“I don’t want you going anywhere on your own.”
She gives me a pained look. “I know,” she says. “Will Sawyer be spying, um, patrolling today?”
“Yes.” I stress the word.
Leila’s still out there.
“If I were driving the Saab it would be easier,” she mutters, sounding sullen.
“Sawyer will have a car, and he can drive you to your apartment, depending on what time.” I glance at Taylor in the rearview mirror. He nods.
Ana sighs. “Okay. I think Ethan will probably contact me during the day. I’ll let you know what the plans are then.”
This arrangement leaves a great deal to chance.
But I don’t want an argument.
I’m having too good a day.
“Okay. Nowhere on your own. Do you understand?” I waggle a finger at her.
“Yes, dear,” she says, each word dripping with sarcasm.
Oh, what I’d give to spank her right now.
“And maybe you should just use your BlackBerry—I’ll e-mail you on it. That should prevent my IT guy having a thoroughly interesting morning, okay?”
“Yes, Christian.” She rolls her eyes.
“Why, Miss Steele, I do believe you’re making my palm twitch.”