SOAR (or SORE) WITH ME
CHAPTER XXVII
“Christian! I
want the strawberry!” she says as she’s reaching to an unseen object. It’s her
thrashing around that wakes me up.
“I don’t want
the cage!” she murmurs as her brows crease in her sleep. Seeping in city lights
play an amazing magic on her face. I’m intrigued.
“Don’t take it
away Christian! I want that... Nooo!” she moans. I rub her hair to soothe her.
I’m curious to know what she’s dreaming about.
“Shhh!” I murmur
softly. The crease in her brow softens, eases her face.
“What? Don’t
leave! I can’t!” she shudders in her sleep.
“I love you! Don’t leave me! I’m scared...” (← I Melt with You by Nouvelle Vague)
“Baby... I’m
here. Shhh now...” I coax her. Rub her hair, trying to relax her. Her arm looks
for me in the dark. I take it, wrap it around my neck. She sigh. It’s the
sweetest sound.
“I’d die!” her
face crunches. “I’d die... Christian,” she murmurs barely audible.
What? Why?
“Don’t leave
me...” she whispers in her sleep. "I just want more..." she mutters sadly.
It’s her fear
that I’d leave her. How little she knows, that it’s my fear, too. If she just
knew, I wouldn’t, I physically couldn’t leave her, that she has a direct line
to my soul.
“I’ll never...”
she drifts off. “no, I won’t leave you,” she murmurs. I close my eyes and revel
in the knowledge, the reassurance of her statement in her sleep. She said that
before, but how I long to hear it when she’s awake.
“I want that!”
she extends the hand wrapped around my neck.
“Shhh now...
Relax baby,” I whisper in her ear. I rub her hair, slowly, purposefully. She
eases and relaxes. Sighs. Her arms slowly go limp, motionless. I ease out of
the bed. I can watch her forever like this. I go and get dressed in black for
my surprise for her today. I let her sleep as much as possible, but for what I
have in mind for her, I need to wake my baby up.
“Anastasia,” I
try to coax her out of sleep.
“No,” she moans.
“Come on now
baby,” I say in a normal tone.
“No. Let me
touch you,” she groans.
“Wake up,” I
coax more.
“No,” she
mumbles as she flickers her eyes for a brief second. I nuzzle her ear as I whisper.
“Wake up baby,”
with a smile, and pleasure knowing she’s here with me in my arms.
“Oh...no,” she
groans, her face grimaces.
“Time to get up
baby. I’m going to turn the table lamp on,” I say quietly.
“No,” she groans
again.
“I want to chase
the dawn with you,” I say kissing her
face, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her mouth and she finally opens her
yes. She squints a little as the soft light from the side table light touches
her eyes.
“Good morning
beautiful” I murmur, and she groans making me smile.
“You’re not a
morning person,” I murmur. She squints and looks up at me leaning over her,
smiling. I’m amused.
“I thought you
wanted sex,” she grumbles. What? Is that why she’s grumbling? Has sex been that
bad with me that she feels she has to grumble?
“Anastasia, I
always want sex with you. It’s heartwarming to know that you feel the same,” I
say dryly, sarcastically.
She gazes at me,
but I am too amused to be deterred by her reaction.
“Of course I do,
just not when it’s so late,” she mumbles.
“It’s not late,
it’s early. Come on! Up you go. We’re going out. I’ll take a rain check on the
sex.”
“I was having
such a nice dream,” she whines longing for something she’s lost.
“Dream about
what?” I ask my interest piqued.
“You,” she
blushes. Oh, that reaction grabs my interest.
“What was I
doing this time?” I ask.
“Trying to feed
me strawberries,” she says. I smile. I think I remember her saying that.
“Dr. Flynn could
have a field day with that. Up, and get dressed. Don’t bother to shower, we can
do that later,” I say firmly.
She sits up, and
the sheets just fall to her waist revealing her naked body. My eyes darken with
desire, and if I do what I want to do right now, we will miss our chance to
catch the sunrise. So, I’ll have to rein in my desire.
“What time is
it?” she asks.
“5:30 in the
morning,” I reply.
“Ohh,” she
groans, “feels like 3:00 a.m.”
“We don’t have
much time. I tried to let you sleep as long as possible. Come.”
“Can I just have
a shower?” she asks. I sigh.
“If you have a
shower, I’ll want one with you, and you and I know what will happen then... Our
day will just go. Come.” We can do that later.
I’m completely
excited with what I planned for us, what I want to share with her. This is
going to be our ‘more.’ She smiles at me in return.
“What are we
doing?” she inquires.
“It’s a surprise. I told you,” I say grinning at her. (← Come Fly with Me by Frank Sinatra)
“Okay,” she
responds and clambers off the bed, looking for her clothes. She locates them on
the chair next to the bed. I have also put a pair of jersey boxer briefs for
her. She sees the Ralph Lauren label, and grins. She slips them on, and I grin
in response. My second pair she has in her possession now. Somehow knowing
something that was so intimately on me is now covering her makes me feel even
more proprietor towards her.
Since I made
sure she’s up, and getting dressed, I say, “I’ll give you some room now that
you’re up,” and leave the bedroom to go to the living room. Less than ten
minutes later she emerges as I’m having my breakfast.
“Eat,” I tell
her. She doesn’t eat enough. She gapes at me.
“Anastasia,” I
say sternly, she looks like she’s going to negotiate.
“I’ll have some
tea. Can I take a croissant for later?” I look at her suspiciously and she
gives me a sweet smile in response.
“Don’t rain on
my parade Anastasia,” I warn her.
“I’ll eat later
when my stomach’s woken up. About 7:30 a.m.... okay?”
She looks at me
sweetly, and expectantly.. A mischievous gleam comes to her eyes as my
responding glare is on her.
“I want to roll
my eyes at you,” she says.
“By all means,
do, and you will make my day,” I say sternly. She gazes up at the ceiling as if
she’s considering my threat.
“Well,” she says
contemplating seriously, “a spanking would wake me up, I suppose,” she says
pursing her lips, weighing her options. My mouth hits the floor with her
revelation!
“On the other
hand, I don’t want you to be all hot and bothered; the climate here is warm
enough,” she says shrugging nonchalantly. I finally have enough sense to close
my mouth, and try to look displeased, but clearly in Anastasia’s presence, I
fail hopelessly. She is playful, and her remarks makes humor come to surface.
“You are, as
ever, challenging Miss Steele. Drink your tea,” I order her.
She looks at the
tea, and notices the Twinings label, and a huge grin covers her beautiful face.
She sits across from me, and watch me for a while as she sips her tea.
When I’m done
with breakfast and she, with her tea, we leave the room. I toss her a
sweatshirt.
“You’ll need
this,” I say, and she looks at me puzzled.
“Trust me,” I
tell her grinning, and lean over and kiss her quickly on the lips, then grab
her hand and we head out.
It’s relatively
cool outside, and pre-dawn lights are peaking from the eastern horizon. When we
come in front of the hotel, the valet hands me a set of keys to a flashy sports
car with a soft top. Anastasia turns to me and raises a questioning eye brow to
which I respond with a smirk.
“You know
Anastasia, sometimes it’s great being me,” I say conspiratorially still
grinning. How could I not? I’m here with the woman I desire, and have feelings
for, and we’re doing ‘more’ together. She’s my hope; the one who lets me know
that there’s more to life, helps me experience life to the fullest beyond what
I had expected. I’m in a very good mood. I open the car door, and with an
exaggerated bow, I let her climb in. Then, I go to the driver’s side, and sit.
“Where are we
going?” she asks.
“You’ll see,” I
tell her giving nothing away. I put the car in drive, and we head out on
Savannah Parkway. I program the GPS, and switch on the iPod synced with the
car’s stereo, and classical orchestral piece fills the car.
“What is this?”
she asks in a sweet voice curiously.
It’s one of my
favorite operas.
“It’s from La Traviata. An opera by Verdi,” I respond. (←La Traviata by Pavarotti)
“La Traviata?
I’ve heard of that. I can’t think of where. What does it mean?” she asks. I
glance at her quickly and smirk.
“Well,
literally, the woman led astray. It’s based on Alexander Dumas’s book, La Dame
aux Camelias,” I say explaining.
“Ah. I’ve read
it,” she says.
“I thought you
might.”
“The doomed
courtesan,” she says squirming in her leather seat. “Hmm, it’s a depressing
story,” she mutters.
“Too depressing?
Do you want to choose some music? This is on my iPod,” I say with a secret
knowing smile.
I tap the screen
on the console between the two of us, and bring up the play list.
“You choose,” I
tell her trying, but failing to hide a knowing smile.
Her fingers tap,
and go through the playlist. She scrolls down, and after finding what she wants,
she presses play. Britney comes on with her club-mix, techno beat. I turn the
volume down. It’s not a song I put on my iPod. It was Leila who put that song
into the list. Britney croons in a sultry voice.
“Toxic, eh?” I ask grinning. (←Toxic by Britney Spears)
“I don’t know
what you mean,” she feigns innocence.
I turn the music
down a little more. This isn’t a song I put on to my iPod.
“I didn’t put
that song on my iPod,” I tell Anastasia casually but truthfully, then put my
foot down on the accelerator and I hide a small smile as she’s thrown back into
her seat as we travel along the freeway. I watch her on my peripheral vision.
She clenches her hands on her lap, I see her jaw moving,
clenching; she's gritting her teeth, and her mood falls down as she looks out. Oh, no! She’s wondering
who put the song on my iPod. Jealousy and curiosity is oozing out of her. As
Britney croons ‘who... who?’ she looks even more forlorn.
“It was Leila,”
I answer her unspoken question. She turns to me and asks, “Leila?”
“An ex, who put
the song on my iPod,” I respond. She sits back in deep thought, and then asks
me “One of the fifteen?”
“Yes,” I
respond.
“What happened
to her?”
“We finished,” I
reply.
“Why?”
I sigh. I want
to be open with Anastasia; I want her to know that she’s special over any other
woman I’ve had.
“She wanted
more,” I say in a low, introspective voice. The sentence hangs between us.
Anastasia is the only one I ever entertained the idea of “more”.
“And you
didn’t?” she asks. I shake my head.
“I never wanted
more, until I met you,” I simply state. I want her to know that I want more too
with her. I find myself desiring more, needing more, wanting more...but only
with her. She takes what I say in.
“What happened
to the other fourteen?” she asks.
“You want the
list? Divorced, beheaded, died?” I say in almost a mocking tone.
“You’re not
Henry VIII,” she says pouting.
“Okay. In no
particular order, I’ve only had long term relationships with four women, apart
from Elena,” I state.
“Elena?” she
asks.
“Mrs. Robinson
to you,” I half smile. I remember Elena’s reaction to her nickname. Her face
darkens with fear, jealousy, anger...I don’t know what else.
“What happened
to the four?” she asks shaking her head.
“So inquisitive,
so eager for information, Miss Steele,” I scold her playfully, but I’m in full
disclosure mode right now.
“Oh, Mr. When is
your period due?” she scolds me back.
“Anastasia, a
man needs to know these things,” I say. I don’t want to knock her up.
“Does he?” she
retorts.
“I do,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t
want you to get pregnant,” I say exasperated.
“Neither do I!
Well, not for a few years yet,” she says taking me aback. She wants children?
It’s too early to visit this scary topic.
“So the other
four, what happened?” she presses, and in light of the previous topic, this is
one I can answer.
“One met someone
else. The other three wanted – more. I wasn’t in the market for more then,” I
state.
“And the
others?” she presses further. God! She should work for me! She’s nothing if not
persuasive.
“Just didn’t
work out,” I say. Nothing worked out to my heart’s desire until I met
Anastasia. She glances out the car again. What is she thinking?
“Where are we
headed?" She asks, perplexed, gazing out at the I-95.
“An airfield,” I
respond.
“We’re not going
back to Seattle are we?” she gasps alarmed. I laugh at her reaction. Of course
not. I want to chase the dawn with her.
“No Anastasia,
we’re going to indulge in my second favorite pastime,” I reply.
“Second?” she
asks frowning?
“Yep. I told you
my favorite this morning,” I say and she glances at me, examining my
expression.
“Indulging in
you Miss Steele. That’s got to be top of my list. Any way I can get you,” I say
with all the fervor I have for her.
“Well, that’s
quite high up on my list of diverting, kinky priorities, too,” she mutters,
blushing.
“I’m pleased to
hear it,” I mutter back at her dryly.
“So, airfield?”
she asks. I grin at her. We’re almost here anyway, so, it’d be alright to let
her in the secret.
“Soaring,” I
say. She looks questioning.
“We’re going to
chase the dawn Anastasia,” I explain. I’m so elated because I’m going to share
my second most favorite hobby with her, and that it’s our ‘more’. I can’t help
but turn and grin at her. My GPS directs me to turn right, and we turn into an
industrial complex. I pull outside of a large white building with a sign
reading Brunswick Soaring Association.
When I turn off
the engine, I turn and ask her, “You’re up for this?” with a hopeful voice.
“You’re flying?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“Yes please!”
she says with excitement and without hesitation. I grin at her response and
lean forward and kiss my woman.
“Another first
Miss Steele,” I say as I climb out of the car. She’s the first woman I’m taking
to share my hobby. I walk around the car, and open her door. She walks out and
takes my proffered hand. I head her round the building to find a stretch of
tarmac where several planes are parked. Taylor is standing beside a man with a
shaved head and wild eyes. Anastasia beams at Taylor and he smiles back at her
kindly. Good, I don’t want others, not to mention my employees ogling my woman!
“Mr. Grey, this
is your tow-pilot, Mr. Mark Benson,” he introduces the pilot. We shake hands,
and talk about the wind speed, its direction, and other weather related
conditions.
“Hello Taylor,”
I hear Anastasia murmuring shyly.
“Miss Steele,”
he responds her nodding. “Ana,” I hear him correcting himself. Then he leans in
and whispers something I can’t hear. I narrow my eyes, but say nothing.
“Anastasia,” I
summon my woman. “Come,” I say as I hold my hand out.
“See you later
Taylor,” she says smiling, and he gives her a quick salute, and heads back to
the parking lot.
“Mr. Benson,
this is my girlfriend, Anastasia Steele,” I introduce my woman to the pilot.
“Pleased to meet
you,” she murmurs and they shake hands. Benson is dazzled by Anastasia... God,
who isn’t? And he smiles.
“Likewise,” he
says to her.
Mark Benson
leads the way on the tarmac toward the runway.
“What are you
towing us with today Mark?”
“A Blanik sir,”
he responds.
“L13 or L23,” I
ask.
“You know your
planes,” he says with a grin.
“L23 sir,” he
responds.
“Any particular
reason you prefer it over L13?”
“You know that
L13s have an excellent aerobatic characteristics sir. I mean they’re designed
for dual elementary and aerobatic glider training. And of course, they’re great
for soaring,” he says.
“I’ve used L23s
before,” I state as a matter of factly, feeling in my element. “I, too prefer
them. For one thing, it’s an all metal, two seal self-supporting, high-winged
glider. I’ve used it for my flight training, stunt and instrument flying. What
are you towing us with,” I ask, and Mark beams from ear to ear.
“I’ll be towing
you in a Piper Pawnee,” he says. I cheerfully nod. I love airplanes, and I love
flying. The fact that I’m getting to do that with my woman is like having a double
orgasm and no sex is involved.
The plane is
long, sleek and white with orange stripes. The long white cable is attached to
the single propeller Piper.
“First we need
to strap on your parachute,” Mark says to Anastasia.
“I’ll do that,”
I interrupt him. The day someone else straps her into a harness is the day hell
freezes over. Benson smiles amenably at me.
“I’ll fetch some
ballast,” Benson says, and heads towards the plane.
“You like
strapping me into things,” she observes dryly.
“Miss Steele,
you have no idea. Here, step into the straps,” I say and she does as she’s
told. She places her arm on my shoulder. The touch makes me stiffen, but I
don’t move. I want to get used her touches. Once her feet get into the loops, I
pull the parachute up, and she places her arms through the shoulder straps. I
quickly and efficiently fasten the harness, and tighten all the straps.
“There, you’ll
do,” I say mildly, I am anything but. The fact that she looks in that strapped
parachute is so damn hot. If I wasn’t flying, I’d take her in the nearest
private location.
“Do you have
your hair tie from yesterday?” I ask her. She nods.
“You want me to
put my hair up?”
“Yes,” I
respond. She quickly puts her hair up.
“In you go,” I
command her into the cockpit. She goes to climb in the back making me grin.
“No, front.
Pilot sits at the back,” I tell her.
“But will you be
able to see?”
“I’ll see
plenty,” I say grinning even wider.
I’m incredibly
happy to introduce her to my hobby, to something I enjoy immensely. The fact
that she’s looking forward to it, and happy makes me elated. She clambers in,
and settled down in the front seat. I lean over, and pull the harness over her
shoulders, reach between her legs for the lower belt, and buckle it into the
fastener resting against her belly. I then tighten the restraining straps.
‘Beyond hot’, I think to myself.
“Hmm... twice in
one morning. I am a lucky man,” I whisper and kiss her quickly. “This won’t
take long... twenty, thirty minutes at the most. Thermals aren’t as great at
this time of the morning, but it’s so breathtaking up there at this hour. I
hope you’re not nervous,” I say.
“I’m excited,”
she beams, completely happy, grinning ear to ear.
“Good,” I say
grinning back at her. I suddenly feel the urge to stroke her cheek, I stroke
her cheeks gently, then move to my seat. I climb into the airplane behind her.
Mark Benson
comes back with his cheerful grin, he checks the straps on Anastasia, and then
checks the cockpit floor.
“Yep, that’s
secure. First time?” he asks.
“Yes,” Anastasia
responds.
“You’ll love
it,” he says.
“Thank you Mr.
Benson,” she says politely.
“Call me Mark,”
he tells her. Then turns to me and asks, “Okay?”
“Yep. Let’s go,”
I say.
I’m beyond happy
to be flying with my woman, actually having to show her some of my skills in
this department are quite exciting. Mark shots the cockpit lid, and walks over
to the Piper and climbs in.
When the Piper’s
single propeller starts, we slowly taxi down the runway, and as the cable takes
the strain, we suddenly jolt forward, and we’re off the ground. Mark talks to
the tower, and Piper picks up speed and we behind it. Takes offs are usually a
bit bumpy because these are small airplanes, and as the Piper gains enough
speed and distance it’s airborne and so are we.
“Here we go
baby!” I shout behind Anastasia. We can hear the sound of the wind and the
distant hum of the Piper’s engine. Below us we can see the freeway, the rising
sun, and woods and homes in the sprawling city. An extraordinary dawn is
coming above the horizon making everything even more beautiful. This is the
‘golden hour’ of the day, and the fact that I’m sharing it with my woman, my
Anastasia makes it only more spectacular!
As we reach 3000
feet, Mark lets me know our altitude, and I say, “Release,” into the radio.
Once the cable is released, the Piper disappears from our view, and we’re no
longer being pulled, just soaring over Georgia.
I bank the plane
and turn and dip as we spiral toward the sun. We spiral and spiral into the
morning light. This is magical.
“Hold on tight!”
I shout and we dip again but this time I don’t stop and we are upside down
looking to the ground through the top of the cockpit canopy. Anastasia squeals
loudly in delight, I see her arms going up and lashing forward, her hands
splayed on the Perspex to stop herself from falling. Her reaction makes me
laugh, and we’re both enjoying the moment, and laughing hard. I turn the plane
around and we are right side up again.
“I’m glad I
didn’t have breakfast!” she shouts at me, and I agree.
“Yes, in
hindsight, it’s good you didn’t, because I’m going to do that again,” I say,
and dip the plane once more until we are upside down, and she giggles and
laughs hard. I get the place level once again.
“Beautiful,
isn’t it?” I call at Anastasia.
“Yes,” she
shouts back.
It’s just me,
Anastasia, the small confined space, the bubble of this plane, and the endless
Georgia skies, and the early majestic morning light. If heaven exists, I’m in
it right now. What more could I ask for?
“See the joy
stick in front of you? I shout at her.
“Grab hold!” I
want her to take control even for a little bit.
“What? No!” She
says scared.
“Go on
Anastasia. Grab it” I urge her vehemently.
She finally
grasps it.
“Hold tight and
keep it steady. See the middle dial in front? Keep the needle dead center,” I
instruct her. She does as she’s told. She’s piloting the glider.
“Good girl!” I
encourage her delighted.
“I am amazed you
let me take control,” she shouts.
“You’d be amazed
what I’d let you do, Miss Steele. Back to me now,” I say then take back the
control of the airplane. What would she do if she knew the depth of my feelings
for her? Would it scare her off? I have no experience in that, and the depth of
my feelings I have for her scares me to my core; unfamiliarity of it, newness, and the fact that I've avoided extreme emotions all my adult life makes this experience unnerving as well as doubly enjoyable.
After I take the
control of the airplane back from Anastasia, we spiral down several feet, and
then I get the plane ready for landing and initiating our descent. I radio the
tower.
“BMA, this is BG
N Papa 3 Alpha, entering left downwind runway seven to the grass, BMA,” I say
confidently. The tower gives me a go for landing. We sail around another wide
circle, slowly approaching the ground. Both the airport and the landing strips
are visible, and we descend flying back over I-95. Since the landing is approaching,
I give Anastasia a warning:
“Hang on baby.
This can get bumpy.”
I circle one
more time and lower the plane, and we touch the ground with a brief thump, and
we race along the grass until I bring the plane to a complete stop. The plane
sways slightly and dips to the right. Once we’ve stopped, I open the cockpit
lid, clamber outside and stretch my legs. Then I go back to my woman, and ask
“How was that?” as happy as I can be, grinning like a teenage boy, and lean down
and unbuckle her.
“That was
extraordinary. Thank you,” she whispers, quite happy.
“Was it more?” I
ask, hoping that it was.
“Much more,” she
breathes, and I realize I’m holding my breath and let go, and can’t help myself
but grin at her response.
“Come,” I hold
out my hand for her, and she clambers out of the cockpit.
As soon as her
feet touch the ground, I grab her and hold her flush to my body. Suddenly my
hands are in her hair, tugging it making her head tip back, and my other hand
travels leisurely down to the base of her spine. I kiss her long and hard with
all my passion, my tongue invading her mouth. My breathing increases, speeds
up, and my fervor increases, and my erection is a tent trying to get out of my
pants. I’m ready to take her between the aircraft and the Runway 3. Her
response lets me know that she doesn’t care if I take her on the grass or
leaning on the airplane. Her hands twist in my hair, and we’re anchored to each
other. She wants me, now, and that makes it harder for me to stop. I finally
gain enough control to break away and gaze down at her. My eyes are dark with
feral passion, full of raw carnal intent, and sensuality. She’s breathless as I
am.
“Breakfast,” I
barely whisper, though I know, she’d be enough for me to have for breakfast,
lunch and dinner combined. She gasps as if I said, “Sex. Here. On the Grass!”
Why do I lose my reason with her and she with me? But I know that the 'why' doesn't even matter. I don’t ever want that to
stop. I turn and clasp her hand as we head back toward the car.
“What about the
glider? She asks.
“Someone will
take care of that,” I say. They’ll need to tow it. “We’ll eat now,” I say. I
want her, she wants me, but she needs food.
“Come,” I smile.
I’m beyond joyful. Who knew that ‘more’ would be much, much more with her? We
walk like this; hand in hand both of us grinning like the Cheshire cat, like
Christmas morning after receiving your favorite gift. It’s a perfect day! (←It’s
a Beautiful Day by U2)
Soon after I get
my woman in the car, I make her buckle, and I slide into my own seat. I back
out of the parking space, and head out to I-95 towards Savannah. Her phone
rings on the way. She turns it off.
“What’s that?” I
ask her curiously glancing at her. Is someone calling her that she doesn’t want
me to know? She fumbles in her purse.
“Alarm for my
pill,” she mutters as she flushes making me immediately happy. She cares. She’s
following directions to take her pill.
“Good, well
done. I hate condoms,” I say, and she flushes even redder if that is at all
possible. She turns and looks at me and murmurs, “I like that you introduced me
to Mark as your girlfriend.”
“Isn’t that what
you are?” I say raising an eye brow. She is never going to be a great sub, but,
then I want more with her. She’s my girlfriend.
“Am I? I thought
you wanted a submissive,” she retorts back.
“So did I,
Anastasia, and I do. But I’ve told you, I want more, too,” I say, leaving her
breathless.
“I’m very happy
that you want more,” she whispers.
“We aim to
please Miss Steele,” I say smirking as I pull into the IHOP parking lot.
“IHOP?” she
grins back at me as if I can’t ever eat at International House of Pancakes.
I get out, and
go to the passenger side of the car, and open her door. I proffer my hand and
she takes it. It’s early, about 8:30 in the morning, and a bit quiet in the
restaurant. You can smell the pancake batter and hash browns and cleaners they’ve
used. I lead her to a booth to sit.
“I would never
have pictured you here,” she says as she slides in her seat.
“My dad used to
bring us to one of these whenever my mom went away to a medical conference. It
was our secret,” I smile fondly at the memory. I pick up a menu, and skim over
it. She’s looking at me with carnal appreciation, and I know what she wants; it
is anything but food.
“I know what I
want,” I breathe at her my voice low and husky.
She glances up
at me, and I stare at her pointedly, directly speaking to her inner goddess.
She gazes back at me as if to answer an unspoken call I’ve made.
“I want what you
want,” she whispers. I inhale sharply.
“Here?” I ask
suggestively raising an eyebrow at her and smiling wickedly as my teeth traps
the tip of my tongue, effectively holding my unspoken words. But our gazes do
all the talking. Her bottom lip goes into the captivity of her teeth changing
my expression to I-want-to-fuck-you-now, my gaze is growing darker.
“Don’t bite your
lip,” I order. “Not here, not now.” My eyes harden. I’m like a cup filled to
the meniscus; one tiny drop of her salacity will overflow me, and I won’t be responsible
by my actions. I don’t want to spend the rest of the morning in jail for lewd
action in IHOP. “If I can’t have you here, don’t tempt me,” I whisper firmly.
“Hi, my name’s
Leandra. What can I get for you..Er... today, this morning...?” she says as her
voice trails off, and she stumbles over her words for some odd reason. I eye
Anastasia watching the bewildered waitress, her gaze darkening with jealousy
and possessiveness. The woman must be ogling me but I care nothing about that. She
has the look of a female lion whose mate is being eyed by another female. It is
beyond hot, and the fact that this would have been something I would do if she
was the object of interest, I approve, and I fucking desire her even more now.
“Anastasia?” I
prompt her unable to keep that desire, passion, and carnal interest from my
voice. She swallows and responds.
“I told you, I
want what you want,” she says in a soft, low voice increasing my hunger for her
tenfold. The waitress looks back and forth between us, and she changes a puce
color as unnatural as her hair.
“Shall I give
you folks another minute to decide?” she asks.
“No. We know
what we want,” I say unable to keep a twitch of smile from my lips with the
duality of my meaning. One for the waitress, one for my woman.
“We’ll have two orders
of the original buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup and bacon on the side, two
glasses of orange juice, one black coffee with skim milk, and one English
breakfast tea, if you have it,” I say without taking my gaze off of Anastasia.
“Thank you sir.
Will that be all?” Leandra whispers. We both turn and stare at her, and she
flushes some more and scuttles away.
“You know it’s
really not fair,” says Anastasia glancing down at the Formica top table. Her
fingers trace a pattern on the table, and she’s trying hard to sound
nonchalant.
“What’s not
fair?” I ask curious.
“How you disarm
people. Women. Me,” she says softly.
“Do I disarm
you?” I ask curiously. She actually snorts.
“All the time,”
she responds simply.
“It’s just looks
Anastasia,” I say mildly.
“No, Christian,
it’s much more than that,” she says with a low fervor. My brow creases knowing
her effect on me.
“You disarm me
totally, Miss Steele. Your innocence. It cuts through all the crap,” I say.
“Is that why you’ve
changed your mind?” she asks.
“Changed my
mind?” I retort confused.
“Yes-about...
uhm.. us?” I stroke my chin thoughtfully assessing the question. What has
changed about us?
“I don’t think I’ve
changed my mind per se. We just need to redefine our parameters, redraw our
battle lines, if you will. We can make this work, I’m sure. I want you
submissive in my playroom. I will punish you if you digress from the rules.
Other than that... well, I think it’s all up for discussion. Those are my
requirements, Miss Steele. What say you to that?” I ask, stating my new
proposition.
“So I get to
sleep with you? In your bed?” she asks hopeful.
“Is that what
you want?” I ask.
“Yes,” she
states firmly.
“I agree then.
Besides, I sleep very well when you’re in my bed. I had no idea,” I say my brow
creasing, knowing the fact that I have had no nightmares every time she was in
my bed. She’s like my talisman keeping the Sandman and the perpetual pimps
away.
“I was
frightened you’d leave me if I didn’t agree to all of it,” she confesses in a
whisper.
“I’m not going
anywhere Anastasia. Besides...” I trail off with unspoken thoughts. How could I
leave you? I’m the one who’s afraid that you’d leave. I’m the one who can’t be
without you. You wouldn’t believe what I would agree to be with you. Those
thoughts are remain unsaid. Then I add, “We’re following your advice, your
definition: compromise. You e-mailed it to me. And so far, it’s working for me.”
“I love that you
want more,” she murmurs shyly.
“I know,” I say.
She’s said it enough in her sleep.
“How do you
know?” she asks.
“Trust me. I
just do,” I say smirking at her. She narrows her eyes on me trying to decipher
my expression. Our waitress Leandra arrives at that moment with our breakfast.
And for a change, Anastasia eats everything on her plate. I watch her with
approval, and she looks annoyed that I am happy she’s eating.
“Can I treat
you?” she asks after breakfast.
“Treat me how?”
I question her.
“Pay for this
meal,” she says. Oh no! I don’t like my woman paying for anything.
“I don’t think
so,” I grumble.
“Please. I want
to,” she says making me frown.
“Are you trying
to completely emasculate me?” I say.
“This is
probably the only place that I’ll be able to afford to pay,” she pleads.
“Anastasia, I
appreciate the thought. I do. But no,” I say. She purses her lips to my response.
“Don’t scowl,” I
threaten her with my eyes glinting ominously.
I pay for the
meal, and we get back into the car with her scowling at me.
“Don’t be like
that,” I whisper softly. “I’m not used to it. I like to take care of you. Don’t
rain on my parade Anastasia. Knowing that I’m the one doing those simple things
for you, makes me happy. Okay?” I say softening the blow and kiss her lips. She
can’t help herself but smile, and slides into the passenger seat. I drive her
back to her mother’s house.
She looks at me
as if to ask ‘how do you know where my mother lives?’ but decides against it
knowing my capabilities.
“Do you want to
come in? she asks shyly.
“I need to work
Anastasia, but I’ll be back this evening. What time?” I ask. She looks
disappointed. Her looks makes me happy that she wants me, that she’s happy I’m
here, and she’s not happy with this brief separation though she’ll see me this
evening. It opens up endless skies in my dark soul.
“”Thank you...
for the more.” She says.
“My pleasure,
Anastasia,” I reply kissing her as she inhales me in. It’s such a heady
combination. My woman in my arms here and now, and she is trying to feel me
every way possible.
“I’ll see you
later,” she says hopeful.
“Try and stop
me,” I whisper.
I drive off back
to the hotel as she waves goodbye looking forlorn in my sweatshirt.
I dial Taylor on
the way back to the hotel.
“Yes, sir,” he
answers the phone after the first ring.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the
hotel sir. I’ve taken care of the business with Mr. Benson, and had the hotel
reserve one of the meeting rooms for your meeting. The company representatives
are already here sir.”
“Ok. I’ll be
there in fifteen. Meet me by the lobby,” I say.
“Yes, sir,” he
replies and I hang up.
After I hang up, Voi Che Sapete from the 'Marriage of Figaro' starts playing, and what an appropriate song in light of my feelings for Anastasia. (← Voi Che
Sapete-Opera by Mozart sung by Maria Ewing)
I make my way to the hotel with thoughts
of my woman looking forward to spending more time with her at her mother’s home
this evening, like a young man calling on to his girl.
When I get to
the hotel, I hand the keys to the valet, and make my way to the lobby. Taylor is
waiting for me as usual. He briefs me as we make our way towards the meeting
room, as my Blackberry buzzes. I hold my hand up to Taylor indicating ‘one
minute’. It’s a text message from Anastasia making me grin like an idiot, and
right before my security detail at that.
_______________________________________
_______________________________________
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Soaring as opposed to sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:21 EST
To: Christian Grey
Subject: Soaring as opposed to sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:21 EST
To: Christian Grey
Sometimes, you
really know how to show a girl a good time.
Thank you,
Ana x
_______________________________________
I type my reply
hastily and I’m in a playful mood with her which happens often when it comes to
Anastasia.
_______________________________________
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soaring as opposed to sore-ing
Date: June 2 2011 10:25 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
I’ll take either
of those over your snoring. I had a good time too.
But then again, I always do when I’m with you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
_______________________________________
She comes back with a vengeance. Oh, she’s feisty!
_______________________________________
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: SNORING
Date: June 2 2011 10:27 EST
To: Christian Grey
Subject: SNORING
Date: June 2 2011 10:27 EST
To: Christian Grey
I DO NOT SNORE.
And even if I do, it’s very ungallant of you to point it out.
You’re no gentleman,
Mr. Grey! And you are in the Deep South, too!
Ana
_______________________________________
Who says she
doesn’t chide or reprimand me? Of course she does. Often. In writing... But
then again, that’s one of the things I love about her.
_______________________________________
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Somniloquy
Date: June 2 2011 10:29 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Somniloquy
Date: June 2 2011 10:29 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman, Anastasia, and I think I have demonstrated that point to you on numerous occasions. I’m not intimidated by your SHOUTY capitals. But I will confess to a small white lie: No, you don’t snore, but you do talk. And it’s completely fascinating.
What happened to my kiss?
Christian Grey
Cad & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Cad & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
_______________________________________
I divulged into
one more secret. She has talked in her sleep... in fact a lot lately. It has been
more than fascinating. I was relaxing, most peaceful, soothing thing I’ve had
in a very, very long time.
_______________________________________
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Spill the beans
Date: June 2 2011 10:33 EST
To: Christian Grey
Subject: Spill the beans
Date: June 2 2011 10:33 EST
To: Christian Grey
You are a cad and a scoundrel, and definitely no gentleman.
So, what did I
say? No kisses for you until you talk!
_______________________________________
Her reply makes me smile. I know she’s squirming in her seat. But, I’d rather hear her say it when she’s awake, and sentient.
_______________________________________
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sleeping talking beauty
Date: June 2 2011 10:36 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Sleeping talking beauty
Date: June 2 2011 10:36 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
It would be most ungallant of me to say, and I have already been chastised for that.
But if you
behave yourself, I may tell you this evening.
I do have to go
into a meeting now.
Laters, baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Cad & Scoundrel, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
_______________________________________
We finally make
it to the private meeting room. There are three people from the company which
holds the land I’m interested in. After the brief introductions, we shake hands,
and start talking business.
Taylor is
waiting by the door, standing, looking impassive as he normally does. He must
have received a message, as he turns his back, and opens his text as I see him
from my peripheral vision. The color drains from his face as he blanches. What's wrong?
He eyes me, and
I look at him speculatively. This is his 911 look. I nod, and he steps out to
talk. Few minutes later, he enters back into the meeting room.
“Excuse me, Mr.
Grey,” he says, and leans in.
“There has been
trouble at Escala sir. Leila has come in all disheveled and out of sorts, not quite in her right mind,
yelling and screaming and looking for you. Mrs. Jones tried to calm her down,
however she cut her wrist in an attempted suicide,” he says as my head snaps
up looking at him shocked.
“What happened?”
I say through gritted teeth, anxious.
“Mrs. Jones took
her to the hospital, and they are now fixing her up. I think she’ll be okay,”
he states.
“Tell Mrs. Jones
to stay with her at the hospital until I get there. Keep her there. We might have to take her to a mental facility, and sort out her problem. Then call the pilot, have
the plane ready. We’re going back to Seattle,” I say. Then I turn to my
surprised company who are looking uneasy.
“Gentleman, I
apologize for the interruption. It seems we might have to reschedule this
meeting, and I’m sorry about that. But, I have an emergency situation in
Seattle which requires me to return home. I hope you understand,” I say with an
impassive face.
“Oh, Mr. Grey.
We hope everything is alright,” says the older gentleman with a concern in his
voice.
“Thank you Mr.
Brighton. Nothing we can’t handle, just something requiring my presence. My
people will get in touch with you.”
“Thank you sir,”
they say, and I hastily depart from the meeting room.
Leila! Why would
you do such a thing? What happened. I haven’t laid eyes on her for nearly three
years, and she got married after we were separated. Ironically we were separated because she wanted more, and I didn't. She found someone who wanted those things with her. What changed in her
circumstance? Taylor and I quickly make our way to my suite, and I pack my
things up as Taylor makes contact with the pilot and the co-pilot. He checks us
out of the hotel, and on my way to Hilton Head, I call Anastasia to tell her I
won’t be able to make it for dinner. But she doesn’t answer. I don’t leave a
message. If she doesn’t call me back, I’ll call her once I get back to Seattle.
But my
Blackberry rings, and I see with relief that its Anastasia.
“Anastasia,” I
answer the phone immediately.
“Hi,” she
murmurs shyly.
“I have to return to Seattle. Something’s come up. I’m on my way to Hilton Head now. Please apologize to your mother. I can’t make it for dinner,” I say pre-occupied, upset, and business like. (← Leaving on a Jet Plane by Chantal Kreviazuk)
“Nothing serious, I hope?” she asks concerned.
“I have a
situation which I have to deal with. I’ll see you Friday. I’ll send Taylor to
collect you from the airport if I can’t come myself,” I say still angry with
Leila, barely able to contain myself.
“Okay. I hope
you sort out your situation. Have a safe flight,” she says concern lacing her
voice. Concern for me... melting my heart, and her worries for one brief minute
brings me back to the surface.
“You too, baby,”
I breathe. This isn’t how I expected my day to go, but we take it as it comes
at us. Then I hang up to call Mrs. Jones to find out the details of the
incident. I’m boiling mad! And my 50 Shades is back with a vengeance.
Hello friends! Next posting will be Monday. We're nearing to the sad ending of the first book. So brace yourselves.
27 comments:
Sort of a sweet sorrow. I am looking forward to hear from Christian on how he deals with Ana leaving but I don't want it to be over. LOL
Hi!! I'm a new reader here and I absolutely love this!! You're a great writer and it's great to be able to reread this through Christian's pov. Are you going to continue with the next two books after finishing off with Fifty Shades of Grey? Please do!!!! And keep up the good work! :D:D
Alot of sweet moments in this chapter that had me smiling & giddy all the way through! Sort of the calm before the storm called Leila. This is where things really start to pick up and I can't wait to read what's next! Monday now seems forever away...can't wait :)
Btw...loved the sleeping pic of "Christian" at the top.....Sexy!
AWESOME AS ALWAYS!!! ENJOY YOUR VACATION :)
Can't wait for the next Chapter! You are awesome! Thank You!
I stumbled on your Blog a couple of days ago and read all the posts to date and then reread the book to go along with your chapters. I LOVE it!
Thank you so much for taking a great deal of time to write this Blog and to developing Christian's character...as well as some of the other characters. Well done!
I love the music you have chosen to insert at various points...music always takes "it" to the next level.
Again, thanks for allowing this journey to continue...I wasn't ready for it to end.
Laters...
So lovely to come home to this after a long day at work. Thanks ever so Emine! Having these chapters to read means that I don't have to exit the Fifty universe just yet. *swoon*
I think in her version of the story Ana mentions that this is when they are in the eye of the storm - how right she is. Such a sweet chapter before the heart-wrenching end.
Another fantastic post!! Can't wait until the next one!
Have a great time in Vegas!!
Jill
I've been on vacation, so to come home to these new chapters....is my more! Thank you, and I hope you're enjoying yourself in Vegas! I can't wait for the next chapters, and finally get some insight on how Christian handled Ana leaving. I hope you continue through to 50 shades darker and freed.. Darker is my favorite because he redeems himself! Again thank u!
OMG...it s so close to the end of the book and I am sad and excited at the same time....Once again thank you for taking the time to write Christians POV. Have a great weekend.
-Cathryn
Im baffled! Honestly I think this site has become an obsession. Ive gone on other sites and read others fanfiction... Yours is the best. Allowing us to read this from his pov is awesome... I dont know if I can wait till Monday lol. But I was sure glad to wake up to this.
I just found your site a week ago and I LOVE IT! I usually never add comments, however, I had to tell you how much finding it has meant to me. I know this is time consuming for you and I just couldn't pass up a chance to tell you that it is GREATLY appreciated and I have told all my friends and fellow 50 shades about it. Well done!!!!
So,I've thought of a few songs...
The Dirty Guv'nahs: Song for my Beloved, 3000 Miles, Courage
Matthew West: More, When I Say I Do
Bonnie Raitt: Take my Love with You
Snow Patrol: Open Your Eyes, Just Say Yes, Chasing Cars, Run
Coldplay: of course, The Scientist, Fix You, Yellow
Thanks again...
Me again Emine.. Absolutely fantastic reading Christians POV. Thank again, this must be so time consuming for you, but so much appreciated.
Kathy Australia
you have done my favorite chapter proud XD thanks i loved it, cant wait to read how christian handles ana leaving him, il be awaiting the next chapter on monday...Enjoy your vacation Emine
another brilliant chapter... ive a feeling the break up may make me cry the way your writing! i cant wait! i think eric from true blood would portray an excellent christian, (alexander skarsgard).
Cant wait for monday!!!! enjoy your holiday! :)
When this book ends, will you do the other books as well from Christian's POV?????????
Found this a couple of days ago and I love it!! Thank you for sharing!! Can't wait for more!!
This is my favorite chapter in the book and you didn't disappoint ,it was fabulous. I can't wait to see what you do with the break up I am so excited to read it! I haven't read any other 50 shades of Grey fan fiction because you are amazing and I don't think anyone could write it better. I understand how it is hard to include writing in a busy schedule and I do appreciate what sacrifices you make to enable us to enjoy your work every week. I am so happy that you have so many followers, it is well deserved!
Char
I too have been watching the Ian campaign. I do believe he will do it justice. Some days I like him, Some days not. I also picture that guy from Days of Our Lives.... He plays EJ . I watch that during my lunch at work with the other ladies and he has that rich, bossy, white-shirt with jeans, down pat. One thing for sure, it will be a difficult role to fill and hopefully they will pick someone that does the role justice! I hope you are having a fabulous time in Vegas. One more day!!! Can't wait!!!! :). Thanks for working on this on your vacation!!!!
Jill
I think that Garrett Hedlund could be Christian...
My only issue with Ian is that he's not tall enough...
I also think that Jessica Chastain would be great for Kate. I know she's older, but she looks young enough.
I also think of Michelle Pfiefer as Elena.
Just a few suggestions...
Jen
Thanks for the welcome and for the assurance that you will continue with the books. As a teacher, I find your use of words simply delicious. I am by no means a critic of literature, and I truly loved the original books by James,but I find your writing much better defined and your use of words very satisfying.
Love the idea of a Christian Poll Emine. I read a little about the Ian campaign as well and it seems he really wants to play Christian. I think he would be a good choice & he has all the qualities of who Christian is. As I've mentioned before I also like the guy who's pics you have in all the chapters. I think the poll would fun & interesting to see everyones picks!
Your writing is getting better with each chapter. Thanks for this gift you have given to the 50 shades fans!!!
again great chapter. you are awesome in your insight.
How about "Windmills of your mind"
Noel Harrison. It's all about mixed emotions
Thank you Jean!
I'm compiling all the suggestions in a file, so I can use them in upcoming chapters. I'll be listening to Noel Harrison now :)
I guess I should comment on every chapter but I can't wait to get to read more so I haven't.
When reading the first book I stumbled upon a Wikipedia page that told what's going to happen at the end. And it actually made me reluctant to read the last two chapters... But I did. I'm reading Darker now for the second time.
This was a great chapter and now I'm off to read some more from Christian's POV.
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