This blog is a tribute to the characters of the 50 Shades Trilogy & EL James for creating them. I'm writing Christian's POV for all of your enjoyment. A snack between meals: Sinful and tasty. Enjoy! Let’s talk of Greys. ❦ ♡ ❧
BOOK III - Chapter XXI - Christian and Anastasia FanFiction
What angel shall
Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive,
Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greatest justice.
All's Well that Ends Well ~ Shakespeare
Mrs. Bentley has
prepared a wonderful Italian feast of mixed antipasto, spaghetti and Panini
along with a couple of bottles of Frascati.
“Oh no!” Kate
groans and we all turn to look at her.
Pointing to the
window she says, “Look,” with a disappointed face. The clouds and distant
thunder has finally reached the house and the rain is pouring outside as we are all
sitting around the dark wood table in the kitchen enjoying the meal Mrs.
Bentley fixed for us. Anastasia stopped eating already but is enjoying her wine, and she
even looks buzzed, her earlier forlorn is forgotten.
“There goes our
hike,” Elliot mutters, but I can feel the relief in his voice. He has been
looking for an opportunity to go and get Katherine’s ring, and poor sap has
been a nervous wreck. I just remembered how nervous I was looking for the
perfect ring for Anastasia. Nothing I found was good enough and didn't represent what I felt for her until Mr. Caria created the pair of rings conveying
exactly what I wanted to say to her, both simple and extraordinary. Elliot
can’t even talk to Katherine because he’s preoccupied with how he wants to propose
and still haven’t decided on the ring and as a result she thinks he's still mad at her. He said he couldn't find the ring he
likes in Seattle. He’s hoping to find it here. I don’t think any off the shelf
ring would do for my wife. But, then again, we are talking about Katherine Kavanagh. It’ll
do for her. I can’t believe how nervous Elliot is and head over heels for
Katherine. That’s what love does to you. Love renders your faculties useless.
Katherine gives him the evil eye, still mad at him, because my brother - the
womanizer is now in the captivity of Miss Kavanagh, and still has been too
nervous to fix whatever trifle they have between them. They’re both radiating
fiery tension against each other -- both for different reasons.
“We could go
into town,” my sister offers. Ethan smirks at her. I’m not sure I like him. I
think I’d like to separate guys and girls for this instance.
for fishing,” I offer.
“I’ll go fish,”
Ethan Kavanagh says, and that’s welcome news for me. If he was to say he wants
to go shopping with the girls, I’d know that it wasn’t for Mia.
up,” my sister claps her hands. “Girls, shopping, and boys go do your boring
at her friend Kate who is agreeing with Mia on the shopping option. Knowing
Anastasia, she doesn’t like shopping or fishing. I immediately remember why
we’re here: to relax together. I’ll do what she wants to do.
“Ana, what do
you want to do?” I ask her directly.
“I don’t mind,”
she says and it’s not truthful. She’s a hopeless liar. I see Miss Kavanagh from
my peripheral vision mouthing “shopping”.
“But I’m more
than happy to go shopping,” she says and smiles at her friend and my sister
wryly. I smirk knowing she hates shopping, but maybe it’s the girl time she
needs. After all, she loves her friend Katherine. She’s been complaining about how
little time she spends with her. But I want to give her the chance to choose,
and not force a choice on her.
“I can stay here
with you, if you’d like” I murmur lasciviously. There are so many places to
christen. Her eyes darken, but she changes her mind.
“No, you go
fish,” she replies resolutely.
“Sounds like a
plan,” Katherine says, and the decision has been made.
accompany you,” I state, a veiled order.
“We don’t need
babysitting,” retorts Katherine in her blunt manner as if her ball crushing
attitude will change my mind. Bring it on Miss Kavanagh! You don’t want to
fight with me where my wife is concerned! But Anastasia diffuses the situation
finally understanding my edginess. She puts her hand on Katherine’s arm and
says, “Kate, Taylor should come.”
almost mad at Anastasia for giving in, but then acquiesces and shrugs. I watch
her carefully. Nope, I still don’t like her interference. You’re on my shit
list Katherine Kavanagh! My impassive gaze remains on her as Anastasia smiles
at me warily.
and says, “I need to pick up a battery for my watch in town,” as he quickly
glances at Katherine, and slightly blushing! My brother is blushing! Love makes
fools out of us, and Elliot is no exception.
“Take the Audi,
Elliot. When you come back we can go fishing,” I say.
plan,” Elliot mutters, completely distracted. I don’t even know if he
comprehended what I said.
Girls have gone
to shopping with Taylor. Elliot took the Audi to find a ring for Katherine. I’m
left with Ethan Kavanagh. Time to get to know this man who is dating and
sleeping with my sister, and appears to be in love with my wife. I’m not sure
if I like the combination. But the host in me takes over.
“I’m going to
workout at my gym Ethan. You’re more than welcome to join me if you like,” I
“Oh, cool! Yes,
I’d like that,” he replies.
When he takes in
my in-home gym, he’s beyond impressed. He’s not too shabby with weights and running,
but I pleasantly note that he still won’t hold a candle to me. He got winded after five miles of run while I do
my usual twelve miles. Just as we were winding down the workout, Elliot calls.
I go to the
corner of my gym and answer the phone.
“I’m not having
any luck finding exactly what I like. I didn't realize it was such an arduous
task! How did you manage to find the perfect ring?”
“I didn't. I had
both the rings custom made.”
“Ah! Shit! I
don’t have time to do that. I’m too anxious already. I wouldn't even know where
to begin! I’m sure I can find the perfect one before tonight! You don’t mind
going to fishing with Ethan, would you? I think tonight is the night! We can
take the girls out to dinner and if she says yes, we can party it up in town.
What do you say?”
night, Elliot. If you need anything, I’m here for you, man! Except, don’t ask
me spend the night with you in the unlikely event that she says ‘no’ to you,” I
regular saint, Christian! Your charity has no bounds. And, thanks for
babysitting Kate’s brother,” he replies teasing me back.
“Shut up and get
your ring,” I order grinning before I hang up.
left to take his shower. I go to the master bedroom and quickly take my shower.
I put the coveralls on I purchased from Anastasia when she was working at the
Clayton’s Hardware store. This way I’m close to her even if she’s shopping with
By the time we
are ready to go fishing, the rain is just a drizzle. We load the fishing gear
on the back of the black Toyota Tundra and drive to Hunter-Fryingpan Wilderness
southeast of Aspen to Roaring Fork. This is wild trout water. We set out for
upstream. Knowing these waters, I’m confident that I’ll catch the first fish.
“Have you fished
here before?” Ethan asks.
“A few times.
It’s a good place to fish for trout. Do you know how to fly fish?”
I’m not as experienced in it as ocean fishing.”
I watch him stop
the rod and form a loop. I can see that he knows the principles of rod and
line control to add distance and accuracy. And he tells me he’s a novice! I can
see in the way he cast his fly, he even gauges the wind and the slow drizzle of
rain. He is using the snake cast technique. I cast mine and make an elementary
mistake resulting in wind knot! I curse my epitaph under my breath. I can see
Kavanagh grinning at me.
angle taking the wind behind you! That way you can gauge where your fly will
land. I think tuck cast will work better from where you are standing,” he says,
and I say, “Thanks,” dryly.
He feels the
snag and pull on his rod, and the fucker is already excited. He reels it in
with what looks like a ten pounder steelhead! He delicately and efficiently
takes his fish, and puts it in the sealed container with water, baits his fly,
and casts his fly like a cowboy throwing his lasso.
After the second
fish he catches within the hour, I am still empty handed.
“How often do
you come to Aspen?” Ethan asks.
“Not as often as
I’d like. I was here last winter,” I reply.
“So were we. My
ol’ man likes skiing, and we made it a habit of coming here at least once in a
while,” he says happy as a clam, in his element.
“What are your
plans in Seattle?” I ask casually. I want to know if he’s going to be in my
sister’s life for a while.
“You know I’ve
been accepted to the graduate Psych program at the university. So, I intend to
finish that. I’m not sure if I want to get a PhD in it yet. I wanna see how I'll do with the program. If all goes well, I might even open up a practice in Seattle. Who
knows? A lot of rich and famous who may be in need of my help,” he says
“You may be
right about that,” I say and smile genuinely.
“Well, if you
ever need a shrink in the future, feel free to employ my services,” he says with
a toothy grin as he reels his third fish while I haven’t even caught my first
“I’ll keep that
in mind,” I say, and add under my breath, ‘in about a million years!’
“Can I ask you
“Yes, you can.
Though I reserve the right not to answer,” I reply reeling my rod after it
“How did you get
to be so driven? I mean most men in your age are still trying to find their way
in life. How did you succeed?” he asks. Ahhh... Another elementary question, like his sister asked through Anastasia for the school paper.
“Is this a
future shrink question?”
“Well, yes and
no. Part of it is out of curiosity, and I’m sure 95% of the men would want to
be you, or achieve what you did, both in business...” he says, then he mutters,
“...and in private life,” his voice barely audible. The poor sucker is still in
love with my wife!
“The answer is
complicated, but also simple. I’ve always been driven. I like being in control.
I couldn't have worked for someone. Being in charge was my only acceptable
option, so I made it work. You simply make goals; take control of your goals,
hire competent people, work with a Herculean effort and do it about a billion
times. Pretty soon it becomes a habit, and you don’t have to think about it,” I
He pauses for a
minute. “You’re right. It is complicated. My hat’s off to you man!” he says
with sincerity. He’s alright other than the fact that he’s still pining for my
wife. He pulls his next fish while my line snaps!
When the rain
starts falling stronger, we decide it’s time to pack up and leave. We make
quick work loading up the truck. By the time we get into the truck, we’re both
wet with rain but laughing hard. Ethan Kavanagh is the only one who caught
fish, while I’m completely empty handed. It’s not how I envisioned this fishing
trip would go, but I’ve learned several things about him. He never mentioned my
sister once, but he asked how Ana liked Europe. Even though my answer was
short, he listened attentively, and thoughtfully, with a poorly concealed
forlorn expression. I almost felt sorry for the poor sap. Almost... Another man
who desires my wife. I’m a lucky bastard to have Anastasia!
When we get to
my property, I drive up on the winding driveway, and pull up in front of the
garage. I press the garage door opener clipped on the sun visor of the truck.
As the garage door is lifting up slowly, I turn the truck off. Ethan and I get
off the truck and start unloading the truck bed. When the door is fully lifted,
I notice Anastasia, my brother, and Katherine standing in the garage each with
a tense expression. Odd.
“Garage band?” I
ask acerbically as I saunter in, and head straight for my wife. She grins at me
and genuinely happy to see me. She eyes me and takes in the coveralls under my
“Hi,” I say with
a quizzical expression, completely ignoring the rest of the company in the
“Hi. Nice coveralls,”
pockets. Very handy for fishing,” I say in a soft and seductive voice. I gaze
down at her, and there’s the usual pull I feel for her. My gaze darkens,
desirous and hot for her. She flushes in response. Her response makes me grin.
“It was raining.
What are you guys doing in the garage?” I ask finally acknowledging the rest of
“Ana came to
fetch some wood,” my brother replies, smirking. It’s his ‘I’m-up-to-no-good’
smile. The thought is unwelcome. He makes it sound like she’s looking for
another cock. “I tried to tempt her to take a ride,” he adds. His double
innuendo makes my face fall – on both accounts.
“She said no.
That you wouldn't like it,” he adds knowing he crossed some line, but this time
completely sincere. My gaze snaps back to my wife. “Did she, now?” I murmur.
“Listen, I’m all
for standing around discussing what Ana did next, but shall we go back inside?”
snaps Katherine poisonously. Then, she stoops down, seizes couple of logs, and
turning on her heels, and stomps towards the door. My brother, like a half
beaten puppy, sighs, and without saying a word, follows his girlfriend out.
Anastasia’s gaze follows them, preoccupied.
“You can ride a
motorcycle?” I ask her in disbelief. I can’t believe my wife can ride such a
“Not very well.
Ethan taught me,” she replies. Of course he did. Where else would he get his
arms wrapped around my wife on a continuous basis? The thought is maddening. My
eyes frost immediately and jealousy surges in me knowing that Kavanagh is still
in love with Anastasia.
“You made the
right decision,” I reply is a cold voice. “The ground’s very hard at the
moment, and the rain’s made it treacherous and slippery.”
“Where do you
want the fishing gear?” Ethan calls from outside.
Ethan. Taylor will take care of it,” I reply.
“What about the
fish?” he asks in a tantalizing voice, rubbing it in the fact that I didn't catch anything.
“You caught a
fish?” Anastasia asks, surprised, and Kavanagh can hear it.
Kavanagh did,” I reply, pouting.
out laughing. Come on! Don’t rub salt in my wound!
will deal with that,” I call back. Ethan, knowing my wife is laughing at me
grins and heads into the house.
“Am I amusing you,
Mrs. Grey?” I ask my wife.
“Very much so.
You’re wet... Let me run you a bath,” she says, immediately lifting up my mood.
“As long as you
join me,” I whisper and lean down and kiss my woman.
into the master bath, and I hear the water running as she’s filling the
bathtub. The heavenly scent of jasmine drifts back into the suite. Then she
comes back to our master suite and hangs a dress she purchased.
“Did you have a
good time?” I asked after having shrugged off the rain soaked clothes. I’m in
my t-shirt and sweat pants. Anastasia’s eyes drift down to my bare feet. I
close the door behind me.
murmurs her answer, but her gaze is just one carnal appreciation. I cock my
head to one side. I’d love to know what is going through her pretty head and
behind those hungry eyes.
“What is it?” I
“I was thinking
how much I’ve missed you.”
“You sound like
you have it bad, Mrs. Grey.”
“I have, Mr.
towards her, and stand right before her. “What did you buy?” I whisper. I want
to know I’m the one taking care of her, providing for her, and fulfilling all her
“A dress, some
shoes, a necklace. I spent a great deal of your money,” she says as she looks
up at me guiltily. The knowledge makes me happy, and amused.
"Good. And for
the billionth time, our money,” I say and tuck a stray lock of her hair behind
her ear. Her lip is in the captivity of her teeth again, making me hot for her.
I tug her chin, and release it. Then run my index finger down the front of her
t-shirt, down her sternum, right between her breast, to her stomach, and over
her belly and to her hem, slowly, and tantalizingly. She is breathless; her
gaze is fixed on me.
“You won’t be
needing this in the bath,” I whisper, and grabbing the hem of her t-shirt, I
slowly pull it up. “Lift your arms,” I order, and she obeys, her gaze is
completely fixed on me. I drop the t-shirt on the floor.
“I thought we
were just having a bath,” she murmurs, her heart racing, her breathing shallow.
“I want to make
you good and dirty first. I’ve missed you, too,” I say and lean down and kiss
Her hands enter
into the waistband of my sweatpants, and her fingers dig into my buttocks
squeezing. Her right hand slowly trails up my side and back. Suddenly I’m full
of desire for her. When I let go of her, her lips are red from my
ministrations. I shrug off my t-shirt, and sweatpants. I want to be as close,
and as intimate with my wife as possible.
missed you today,” she whispers.
“Have you, now?
I really would like to find out how much you've missed me,” I murmur. She gives
me her carnal smile. She fixes her gaze on my eyes, and places her fingertips on my chest hair lightly, and slowly trails down caressing, barely touching my skin. Just as I trailed her body with my finger, she
slowly sinks to her knees trailing my skin. I’m completely on fire.
I’m on Fire –
linger and caress my happy trail. My lips are parted, my gaze locked with hers,
follows her every move.
All of a sudden she sits on her knees gingerly grasps my
erection, and takes me in her mouth making me gasp.
She sheaths her teeth and hollowing her cheeks takes me all
in. She slowly pulls her head back, only leaving the crown of my penis in her
mouth. Then her tongue is swirling around the tip of my cock. I tilt my head back
and my hands hold her head. This is so fucking hot! She is marking me as hers!
“Oh! Sweet mother of God! Fuck, Ana! You own me!” She lifts
her gaze looks up at me from under her long lashes giving me a carnal smile
knowing exactly what she’s doing to me. She sucks hard and makes an
appreciative moaning sound as her tongue caresses my length, and her lips move
up and down tirelessly. Sweet Jesus! I don’t want to come in her mouth! I want
to both make love to her and fuck her into next week!
“That’s enough Ana! You've made your point! Don’t make me
come in your mouth!” I groan. But she only slows her pleasurable torment. My
hands leave her hair, and grasp her shoulder, and as I pull her to her feet,
her lips slowly slide off my cock, making it spring into the air. My turn! I
forcefully pull her to my body and lift her off the floor. When I merge our
lips again, I taste my salty, precum in her mouth. She always tastes better
when she tastes like both of us.
“Wrap your legs around my torso baby,” I murmur into her
mouth. She obeys immediately. I lift her onto my erection, and carefully and painfully
slowly sink into her, and slowly let her weight do the rest. Then I lift her
up, and ease her down onto me. I don’t want this to be quick. I want to prolong
it, and enjoy her. Her arms are wrapped around my neck. Her legs are wrapped
around my body; her heels are digging into my buttocks, pushing me closer to
her. Our proximity is very intimate. Her breasts rub onto my chest hair, and my
skin, causing friction. She tilts her head back with her approaching orgasm.
Then I take her to our bed, and lie down as she’s straddling me. This way I can
touch her breasts. I capture her nipples tugging and teasing between my thumbs
and index fingers. She stifles a moan.
“Oh fuck!” she groans, as she speeds up her movements, while
I lift my hip up to meet her every move, and finally start feeling the
clenching of her sex, and she arches her back. We continue to move; me
thrusting up, and Anastasia pushing down. I increase my speed, spearing into
her; gyrating my hips, finally finding her sweet spot, rub and massage it with
my cock deeply. Soon I feel the familiar tightening of her muscles around my
cock and we lose ourselves shouting each other’s names pouring all we got into
each other. Making love, fucking, and marking each other, and possessing our
She’s spent and completely satisfied on my chest.
“Shit, the water!” she shouts as she struggles to sit up, but I don’t
“Christian, the bath!” she utters, gazing down at me from supine
position. I laugh in response. “Relax... it’s a wet room,” I say, and roll over
and kiss her quickly. “I’ll turn off the faucet.”
I climb off the bed, and stroll into bathroom. I can feel her gaze
following me. I hear her jump out of bed. We climb into the bathtub, and sit in
at the opposite ends of the bath. This way, I can wash her delicate feet and
massage her soles. I gently pull her toes, and kiss and bite the pads gently
one by one.
“Ahhh!” she groans. She’s completely turned on again.
“Like that?” I breathe seductively.
“Hmmm,” she mumbles, barely coherent. I start massaging her feet
again, and she closes her eyes in complete ecstasy.
“I saw Gia in town,” she murmurs.
“Really? I think she has a place here,” I reply. I really don’t care
to hear about Gia.
“She was with Elliot,” Anastasia adds. That stops me. What is
Anastasia trying to tell me? When I don’t move, she opens her eyes.
“What do you mean with Elliot?” I ask confused.
“Well, we were in the store shopping, and while the Kate and Mia were
in the dressing room trying out dresses. I was waiting for them to come out and
show me their outfits, I happened to look outside; there was Elliot coming out
of a jewelry store, and I think he happened to meet Gia or maybe they were in
the same store, I’m not sure. They talked for a little while quite friendly and
laughing, and then he kissed her cheek, and then ran into the SUV because it
was raining. After that Gia headed down the street,” she summarizes. Oh, I see.
He was ring shopping, and probably ran into Gia. Anastasia’s also protective of
her friend, Kate. I approve. But, there’s nothing to worry about. They were
fuck buddies for a while, and now, they’re just buddies without fucking. Elliot
is simply head over heels for Katherine.
“Ana, they’re just friends. I think Elliot is pretty stuck on Kate.
In fact I know he’s pretty stuck on her,” I say, though I don’t know why. To
each their own.
“Kate is gorgeous,” she defends her. Yes, like a tigress. I don’t
want to get near either one of them. I snort. Thank God that it wasn’t her that
came to interview me. “Still glad it was you that fell into my office,” I say,
and then I kiss her big toe on her left foot. I release it, then pick her right
foot and start massaging it. Anastasia just relaxes, and melts in my hands.
While the girls are getting ready for the surprise big evening that
they don’t know about, us, men are relaxing in the living room. My Blackberry
buzzes and I shift in my seat to get it out of my pocket.
Reading her e-mail in an unguarded moment gives me a big lascivious
“Can’t Ana wait till we get back from dinner?” asks Elliot grinning. “Oh, never
mind. You deliver speedy service. We’ll be on time. But, I am willing to give
you a pointer or two,” he says winking.
“Fuck off, Elliot. Reserve it for your girlfriend,” I say a little
agitated. I don’t want my wife to be the topic in this context especially when
Kavanagh is here who seems to be enjoying himself. I type and send her the
response as I make my way to our master suite.
I open the door as she’s reading my e-mail, and I’m frozen in my
tracks, my mouth is agape, and my eyes are wide, and lustful. Jesus Christ
shepherd of Judea! My wife is the hottest thing I have ever laid my eyes on!
“Well?” she whispers her question. I am unable to find the right word
to express my appreciation for the specimen before my eyes. She’s all legs, in
high heeled Manolos, and in a silver dress, although I’m not sure if I should
call it a dress. It’s designed to be a husband killer. It’s backless, and
short. If I were to pull it down to cover her thighs, I’d expose her delectable
breasts. If I cover the breasts, then I’d run the danger of showing her
derrière to the upper crust of Aspen. And the make-up... Where do I begin? Her
hair is full and straight, her eyes ringed with kohl, and her lips are scarlet
red perfectly complimenting the silver fucking sexy dress so well. Though I’m
not at all sure if I want anyone else to see her in this.
“Ana, you look...” what is the right word? Sensational? Sexy? To die
for? Sinful? Radiant? Electrifying? But, all I end up saying is, “Wow!”
“You like it?” she asks. I love it, but for my eyes only!
“Yes, I guess so,” I reply. I don’t even recognize my hoarse voice. I
step into the room, and close the door behind me. She eyes my black jeans,
white shirt, and my black jacket. I strut towards her, and when I reach her, I
put my hands on her shoulders and turn her around to face the full-length
mirror as I stand behind her. She locks her gaze with mine in the mirror. Then
I glance down her naked back with flawless skin. I swallow hard, and my finger
glides down to her spine and reaches the edge of her dress at the small of her
back where her pale skin finally meets the tiny scrap of silver fabric.
“This is very revealing,” I murmur.
My hand skims lover, over her backside and down her naked thigh. Very
naked thigh... I pause, my gaze burns into her blue eyes. Then I slowly skim my
fingers back up to the hem of her skirt. She watches my fingers teasing her
across her skin, and her mouth forms a perfect O with the awakened sensation.
“It’s not far from here,” I say touch the hem, then move my finger
higher, “to here,” I whisper. She gasps when I stroke her sex, moving over her
panties, as I feel and tease her.
“And your point is?” she whispers.
“My point is ... it’s not far from here” I say gliding my finger over
her panties, then insert one finger into her sex, against her soft wet flesh...
“to here. And then,” I say as I slip my finger inside her, I say, “...to here,”
She gasps and then softly groans. And I’m not sure if I like the idea
that what is mine is so close to others’ view.
“This is mine,” I murmur into her ear. I close my eyes in ecstasy,
and I move my finger in and out of her sex. “I don’t want anyone else to see
Her breathing stammers and her panting is matching the movements of
my finger. Her gaze never stops watching me finger fucking her in the mirror.
She’s beyond aroused.
“So be a good girl and don’t bend down, and you should be fine.”
“You approve?” she whispers, completely surprised.
“No, but I’m not going to stop you wearing it. You look stunning,
Anastasia,” I say and abruptly remove my finger from her sex, and move around
to face my wife. I place the tip of my finger that just had been inside her sex
on her lower lip. She puckers her lips and kisses it, making me grin at her
wickedly. I put the same finger into my mouth, and my wife tastes mighty
good. She turns crimson. I grin at her
response, because I never fail to shock my wife. I grasp her hand, and “come,”
I order her softly. We are ready for a night out in town. But I want my wife to
be covered with a trench coat. I don’t need her to display her body to prying
We go to Eight K for dinner. It’s
one of Aspen’s hottest restaurant with excellent food, good friends, fireside;
just the right ambiance for Elliot to pop the question. We've had our dinner,
and waiting for dessert. Ethan is talking about psychology. He’s a smart guy,
I’ll give him that and my sister Mia seems to be hanging to his every word.
“You know Christian, I was thinking about something you said today.”
“Oh, about fishing?”
“Well, since I caught all the fish, no,” he says chuckling.
“Come on! It was beginner’s luck!” I protest in good humor.
“You should have seen him Elliot! He snagged his line and snapped it once.
Then he was facing the wind and he couldn't toss the line properly, and then he
scared the fish to my side, so I ended up catching them all,” he says, and
Elliot laughs heartily.
“Yes, but I didn't think it was very hospitable of me to catch the
fish. So, I had to allocate them to you,” I tease back.
“What I had in mind was this: You are one of the most successful men
in the world. You said it was due to exercising control, and being driven and
hiring competent people. But, I think it’s much more than that. Psychologists
reinforce the idea that control is a good thing. Of course people often equate
freedom with having a lot of control over things. You know, a boss who has
control over his minions... I mean employees,” he says smiling. “I’m not
entirely sure if this is a behavior you taught yourself. I think you were born
with it. Like the ability to paint, or sing,” he hypothesizes.
“Your hypothesis is both true and false,” I reply.
“Come on, man! How could that be? Locus of control indicates that
people with an internal locus of control are psychologically healthier and more
successful than people with an external locus of control. And you seem to have
both internal and external locus of control! I’d say you were born with it! You
have the genes to be successful!”
My sister Mia looks at him as if he’s the smartest man on the planet.
“What’s locus of control, Ethan?” she asks.
“It’s a theoretical construct designed to assess a person’s perceived
control over his or her behavior. Internal locus indicates that the person
feels in control of events, and external locus indicates that the others are
perceived to have that control.”
“Your assumption is wrong on the grounds that anyone who has that
‘gene’ as you put it, would be destined to be successful. No hard work is
required. It is true that there is a predisposition to be in control, but gaining control is still a learned behavior. That’s where your hypothesis is
false. You create a habit by repeatedly doing something, turning it into a
motor act, like changing lanes when you’re driving; that’s your procedural
memory. It’s a type of implicit memory. Because your brain holds knowledge of
something that your mind cannot explicitly access. Humans do so few things
consciously, because it’s only useful in small quantities. So what you basically do is,
you train your subconscious memory by creating a habit.”
“Dude, that’s impossible!” Elliot interjects. “ You've always been the
whiz kid! I think you were born with those billionaire genes.”
“Elliot! There’s no such thing as billionaire genes!” I say laughing.
I find myself having fun with family and friends. I see Anastasia eyeing me -- proudly maybe? But I think my brother’s trying to wind the topic down so he can get on
his knees for the rest of his life. Just as I expected, Elliot startles
everyone by standing and pulling his chair back nervously, and it scrapes the tile
floor. Every pair of eyes within earshot turns to him. He gazes down at
Katherine Kavanagh, then drops to one knee beside her.
My big brother, Elliot Grey, reaches for Katherine’s hand, and all
the patrons silence in the restaurant. There’s a hushed eerie quiet in the
dining room. Expectant, pregnant, holding their breath. People stops eating,
stops talking, stops walking, and their stares are focused on my brother on the
floor and his girlfriend whom he wants to marry.
“My beautiful Kate, I love you. Your grace, your beauty, and your
fiery spirit have no equal, and you have captured my heart. Spend your life
with me. Marry me,” he says putting his heart in Katherine Kavanagh, the ball
crusher’s hands. We wait in silence.
You can hear a pin drop! People are waiting with bated breath
collectively. I don’t think another impromptu group of strangers anticipated
the same answer from Katherine as my brother did at this moment. When the
silence stretches, the air inside becomes foreboding, somber, but still hopeful.
I think this is the first time I see Katherine Kavanagh shut up, and
speechless. It’s almost magical. Anastasia, too is holding her breath.
Katherine just stares at my brother blankly, unable to comprehend what my
brother just asked her. Finally her synapses fire up, and connections are made,
because we see a single tear trickle down her cheek, although her facial
muscles didn't make the connection with her brain yet. She finally smiles with
a slow, this-is-a-miracle-I-just-touched-heaven face.
“Yes,” she whispers her answer, in almost a Marilyn Monroe-esque
sound. Then, in the blink of an eye, the patrons of the entire restaurant
exhale collectively, and applaud and cheer and catcall and make whooping
sounds. Even Anastasia is crying in absolute happiness for her friend.
Elliot finally takes the ring out and presents it to Katherine. She
looks from the ring to my brother and then throws her arms around Elliot’s
neck. They kiss, and the entire restaurant goes wild. My brother stands up and
gracefully acknowledges the crowd’s celebration, and he gracefully bows before
them, and looks completely satisfied with himself. He takes the ring out of its
box, and gently slides it on his fiancée’s finger, sealing the deal with a kiss
Sealed with a Kiss – Jason Donavan
I squeeze Anastasia’s hand a little reminding her that she has a
steel grip on me. She releases my hand, a little chagrined. I embellish the pain as I
shake my hand, and mouth, “ow.” But I am incredibly happy for my brother. His
happiness is written all over his face, and something inside me melts that he
trusted me enough to share this secret only with me.
“Sorry. Did you know about this?” Anastasia whispers. I smile
knowingly, but don’t answer. I call the waiter. Time to celebrate my brother’s
and Kate’s engagement.
“Two bottles of the Cristal please. The 2002 if you have it.”
My wife smirks at me. What did I do now?
“What?” I ask.
“Because the 2002 is so much better than the 2003,” she teases me,
making me laugh.
“To the discerning palate, Anastasia.”
“You have a very discerning palate, Mr. Grey, and singular tastes,”
she says smiling.
“That I do, Mrs. Grey,” I say and lean in closer to her, my lips only
a breath away from her ear. “You taste best,” I whisper, and kiss her on her
Bosch Point on her ear. It’s also called the Libido Point which increases
libido and enhances sexual arousal. Massaging and gently stimulating the Bosch
point on the outer ear can create greater sexual pleasure than the orthodox
erogenous zones. Because the structure
of the ear is a mirror image of an inverted human fetus, which means it is the
microcosmic representation of the entire body. Therefore, the ear lobe
represents the head, and in this position one can identify the corresponding
anatomical parts accordingly. This has been discovered over 2,000 years ago in
ancient China. The effects of can be felt right inside her sex. Stimulating the
spot for thirty seconds will yield most effective results. My wife blushes
scarlet remembering I tasted her earlier as I examined her very risqué dress and
instinctively squeezes her legs together to suppress her libido.
My sister Mia is the first one to jump up and hug Katherine and
Elliot, and in turn we all congratulate them. Anastasia is extremely happy for
her. I suppose Kate is the sister she never had. That explains the attachment
the two of them have.
“See? He was just worried about his proposal,” Anastasia whispers to
“Oh, Ana,” she laughs and sobs in a way only a woman can.
“Kate, I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!” My wife’s joy for her
friend makes me elated. Anything that makes her happy is a source of joy for
me. I’m behind Anastasia. I shake my brother’s hand, then, ‘what the hell!’ I
say to myself, and pull Elliot into a bear hug like he did to me after the
Charlie Tango incident.
“Way to go, Lelliot,” I murmur the name I used to call him as a
child. This time it’s my brother’s turn to be stunned into silence, and knowing
that touching is intolerable for me, he returns my hug in a slow and cautious
“Thanks, Christian,” he chokes. Seeing my brother happy like this,
being able to hug him is indescribable. I love my brother, of course, and I’m
barely finding ways to show him that I love him. I think I owe this all to my
miracle woman: Ana.
I give Katherine an arm’s length, brief hug. This is a step up for
me, because I still can’t tolerate the touch of others. But she will be my new
sister; my brother’s wife. As long as she keeps her nose where it belongs, I’d
be alright with her because of her sisterly love for my wife. “I hope you are
as happy in your marriage as I am in mine,” I wish her sincerely.
“Thank you, Christian. I hope so, too,” she replies. Her graciousness
is unexpected, but not unwelcome. The waiter finally returns with the
champagne, and he proceeds to open the bottle up without much flourish. I hold
my champagne flute high and toast:
“To Kate and my dear brother, Elliot – congratulations!”
Everyone sips their champagne, except my wife. She chugs it down. She
changes color as if she remembered something sinful.
I frown at her, wanting to know what is going through her head. “What
are you thinking about?” I whisper.
“The first time I drank this champagne,” she says.
My frown becomes more quizzical, because I don’t remember drinking
this particular champagne with her.
“We were at your club,” she reminds me. Of course, how did I forget
that? I grin wide.
“Oh yes. I remember,” I say and wink at my wife.
“Elliot, have you set a date?” pipes my ever impatient sister Mia,
like she did with us. Elliot looks at Mia in exasperation. “I’ve only just
asked Kate, so we’ll get back to you on that, ‘kay?” he say.
“Oh, please make it a Christmas wedding. That would be so romantic,
and you’d have no trouble remembering your anniversary,” chimes Mia clapping
her hands. Leave it to Mia to set up everyone’s wedding plans.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Elliot replies, smirking.
“After the champagne, can we please go clubbing?” Mia turns to me,
giving her biggest brown-eyed, there’s-no-way-in-hell-you-can-refuse-me look.
“I think we should ask Elliot and Kate what they’d like to do,” I
When we all turn to them expectantly, Elliot shrugs, and Kate,
wanting to go home and jump my brother’s bones, turns puce realizing that we’re
all looking at her.
We go to Zax, one of the most exclusive nightclubs in Aspen. I stroll
to the front of the line, in control as always, my arm wrapped around my wife’s
waist, and we’re immediately given access.
Anastasia checks her watch, and I notice that it’s pointing to 11:30.
She holds onto me tighter when she sways. She’s had quite a few drinks for one
evening. Two glasses of champagne and several glasses of Poilly-Fumé during
dinner. I hold her firmly in my arms.
“Mr. Grey, welcome back,” greets me a leggy blonde in black satin,
hot pants, with matching sleeveless shirt and a little red bow-tie. Her greeting
is accompanied by a large smile, with harlot red lips. “Max will take your coat,” she says to
Anastasia. She’s sheds Mia’s coat I insisted she wears. Max, of course says,
“Nice coat,” as he's eye fucking my wife, ruffling all my feathers. I fix him with my
back-the-fuck-off glare, and he immediately reddens knowing he encroached on
another man’s territory. He gives me the coat check ticket.
“Let me show you to your table,” says the harlot lipped blonde
hostess. Anastasia’s grip on my body tightens, and I gaze down to look at her
quizzically. When her gaze holds the animosity to the Miss Hot Pants who just
fluttered her eyelashes at me, I see that she’s just as jealous of me as I am
of her. The thought pleases me immensely, making me smirk. When we arrive to
our seating area, the lighting is muted, and the walls are black. The
furnishings are deep red. There are booths flanking two sides of the walls and
a large U shaped bar is situated in the middle. Despite being off season, the
club is busy because there are a lot of local resides who are just enjoying a
Saturday night. The music is loud, and the walls are vibrating with the intensity
of it pulsing from the dance floor behind the bar, and of course the whirling
and flashing lights are enough to give someone a head trip.
We’re taken to a roped off corner booth near the bar, and with access
to the dance floor. It’s only the best seat in the house.
“There’ll be someone along to take your order shortly,” says the
harlot red lips smiling broadly, and flutters her eyelashes at me once more,
making my wife squeeze my hand tighter. My
sister is itching to go out on the dance floor and her feet are already restless on the floor. Finally Ethan asks her to dance, and she jumps up with excitement.
“Champagne?” I ask Ethan and Mia as they’re heading out. Ethan gives
me the thumbs up and Mia nods enthusiastically.
My brother and Kate are sitting back hand in hand on the velvet
sofas, completely oblivious to the rest of the club, and very much in love.
Their happiness makes me happy. I gesture Anastasia to sit, and she scoots
beside Kate. I sit next to her and scan the room anxiously out of habit.
“Show me your ring,” Anastasia shouts over the music. She holds her
hand up to show her single solitaire Victorian ring.
“It’s beautiful,” Anastasia gushes, and Kate nods, and squeezes my
brother’s thigh. He leans down and kisses her.
“Get a room,” Anastasia calls out, making my brother grin.
A waitress with short dark hair comes to take our drink order wearing
black satin, and hot pants.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask Anastasia.
“You’re not picking up the tab for this, too,” grumbles Elliot. It’s
not like I can’t afford it.
“Don’t start that shit, Elliot,” I say nonchalantly.
Anastasia looks at me lovingly, knowing her husband always wants to
be in control. My brother wants to say something, but thinks better of himself,
and shuts his mouth.
“I’ll have a beer,” he says.
“Kate?” I ask.
“More champagne, please. The Cristal is delicious. But I’m sure Ethan
would prefer a beer,” she say smiling sweetly. I’ve never seen her be sweet
anything. This is a change. It must be the utter joy. Yes, love does that to
“Ana?” I ask.
“Bottle of Cristal, three Peronis, and a bottle of iced mineral
water, six glasses,” I order.
“Thank you, sir. Coming right up,” says the waitress smiling.
Anastasia shakes her head.
“What?” I ask confused.
“She didn't flutter her eyelashes at you,” she says smirking.
“Oh. Was she supposed to?” I ask, miserably failing to hide my
“Women usually do,” she says sardonically. I grin ear to ear with her
“Mrs. Grey, are you jealous?”
“Not in the slightest,” she says pouting. I grasp her hand and kiss
“You have nothing to be jealous of, Mrs. Grey,” I murmur close to her
The server finally returns with our order. As Anastasia is sipping
another glass of champagne, I hand her a glass of water.
“Here. Drink this,” I order. She frowns at me, and I sigh in
“Three glasses of white wine at dinner and two of champagne, after a
strawberry daiquiri and two glasses of Frascati at lunchtime. Drink. Now, Ana.”
I don’t want her to puke. We know how well she can hold her liquor. She scowls
at me, but takes the glass and drinks it like a sailor, wiping her mouth with
the back of her hand.
“Good girl,” I say, smirking. “ You've vomited on me once already. I
don’t wish to experience that again in a hurry.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You got to sleep with
me.” Of course I did. It was one of the best nights of my life. I smile in remembrance,
and my eyes soften. “Yeah, I did.”
Mia and Ethan are back from the dance floor.
“Ethan’s had enough, for now. Come on, girls. Let’s hit the floor.
Strike a pose, throw some shapes, work off the calories from chocolate mousse.”
Kate stands immediately. “Coming?” she asks my brother.
“Let me watch you,” he replies with a carnal gaze. She grins and
“I’m going to burn some calories,” says Anastasia, and then leans
down and whispers into my ear. “You can watch me.”
“Don’t bend over,” I growl. I don’t want anyone to take a look at her
“Okay,” she says and stands up abruptly, but she must be woozy,
because she clothes my arm. I’m immediately concerned.
“Perhaps you should have some more water,” I murmur with a warning in
“I’m fine. These seats are low and my heels are high.”
Kate takes her hand, and they follow Mia to the dance floor. My eyes
are on her like a hawk. Once they reach the dance floor, Kate hugs Anastasia.
My sister is shaking her ass off as she’s grinning. I see Anastasia, Kate and
Mia forced closer together as the dance floor fills up with other people.
Anastasia starts moving. Sensually, hypnotically. She’s so fucking hot. Then
some gigantic blonde fucker goes behind my wife and places his hands on her
hips. I shoot up blindingly fast, rage, fury, savage ferocity burns me. As I
run to the dance floor, I shove people aside in the crowded dance floor to
reach my wife. I have not lost control, and burned for a fight like this since I was a
teenager! And now I can’t think of anything but to beat the shit out of that
fucker. I see Anastasia turn around see the fucker, and hit him! Hard! I push
the last two people aside from my way, and finally reach my wife. She steps
back right into my front. I put my arms around her waist, and pull Anastasia
aside to my side protectively.
Next Contestant - Nickelback
“Keep your fucking hands off my wife,” I say, my words ringing clear
and laced with malice and barely controlled rage.
“She can take care of herself,” the bastard shouts. His hands moves
from his cheek and a red mark left by Anastasia's hand is evident there. But I don’t wait around, and
hit the fucker with a perfectly timed punch to his chin. It is immensely easy
for me to just knock someone out, or even kill them with a strategically placed
strike nearly anywhere on the body. I punch him right above the lip and below
the nose where a cluster of nerves are located which gives severe pain,
watering eyes, and immobilizes him. I feel nothing. I’m out of my body. Look at
the heap of scum on the floor.
“Christian, no!” Anastasia gasps in panic standing in front of me,
trying to hold me back. Maybe she’s trying to prevent me from committing murder.
“I already hit him,” she shouts over the music. I don’t look at her. My eyes are
only fixed on her attacker with a deadly malevolence. I have not felt this murderous rage
since Hyde attacked her at SIP, but because all the anger accumulated from Hyde,
from everything that I don’t have any control over concentrated here, at this
spot, I direct my anger to this mother fucker!
Other dancers move outward clearing the space around us. The fucker
finally scrambles up to his feet. Elliot grasps my arms as Ethan appears,
possibly to help my brother.
“Take it easy, okay? Didn't mean any harm,” blonde giant holds his
hands up and shuffles out of my sight. My gaze follows him off the dance floor.
I am barely controlling myself to not to go after him, and beat him an inch of
his life. I don’t look at Anastasia.
I vaguely hear the song “Sexy Bitch” playing. Elliot looks down at
Anastasia, and across at me. I nod and he releases me, pulls his fiancée to his
arms and start dancing. Anastasia puts her arms around my neck, trying to force
me to look at her. My eyes are still volcanoes, blazing, primal and feral.
Sexy Bitch - David Guetta ft. Akon
I finally manage to check her face for any injuries. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she replies rubbing her palms. I can’t get the thought out of
my mind that someone’s claws were on my wife’s ass, clutching, holding,
fondling her, pulling her to him, caressing. He touched what’s mine! No one
touches my wife! She is only mine. My rage boils again.
“Do you want to sit down?” I ask her over the pulsing beat.
“No. Dance with me,” she begs.
I look at her with an impassive gaze, saying absolutely nothing.
“Dance with me,” she pleads again, but I can’t shake the anger off. “Dance.
Christian, please,” she begs taking my hands. I still glare after the guy, but
this time Anastasia starts to move around me, talking to me with her body,
weaving herself around me. Talking in the language I understand. She’s
expressing herself with her body, and I respond helplessly.
“You hit him?” I ask, still standing immobile, my hands are fisted on
my side. She takes my fisted hands.
“Of course I did. I thought it was you, but his hands were hairier.
Please dance with me,” she pleads again.
I gaze at her, my gaze heated, but the fire slowly turns into a
carnal one, evolving, hotter, desirous, and passionate. Suddenly I grab her
wrists and pull her flush against me, pin her hands behind her back.
“You wanna dance? Let’s dance,” I growl closer to her ear, and I roll
my hips around into her. Possessing and claiming her right on the dance floor.
This is my way: I take control, I lead my wife, and she follows; simple as
that. My hands are holding against her backside. I need to feel her like this,
taking charge of her, showing everyone on the floor that she is solely mine,
and no one else’s. Dancing is the vertical expression of a horizontal mission.
A mission which she can only accomplish with me. I’m her man, I’m her husband,
I’m the guy who loves, fucks, and holds her!
I keep Anastasia close to me, I don’t know how long. She lets me, and
follows my lead. Slowly I relax my grip on her hands, and free them. She brings
her hands around, up my arms, up to my shoulders. I pull and press her against
me feeling her bare flesh on her back. She continues to follow my moves as I
move slowly, sensually letting her match my moves in time with the pulsing of
the club music.
She is so fucking hot, and she’s mine. Despite the fact that I nearly
lost it... I lost it, she’s here with me, wanting me, holding me, and following
my lead. I grab her hand, and spin her once, twice, and three times. She grins
at me, and I grin back at her in response.
I dance with my wife on the dance floor within the space whirling
her, consummating my love making skills, translating it into dancing, without
ever letting go of her. She’s one hot woman, and all mine, and I’m absolutely,
and irrevocably in love with her. She watches me... and dances along with me.
When the song morphs into another, she is breathless.
“Can we sit?” she gasps her question.
“Sure,” I say, and lead her off the dance floor.
“ You've made me rather hot and sweaty,” she whispers.
I pull my wife into my arms. That’s exactly the way I like her. “I
like you hot and sweaty. Though I prefer to make you hot and sweaty in private,”
I say lasciviously.
Anastasia’s gaze scans the bar. She’s looking for the giant
assailant. He’s been thrown out already. My brother and his bride to be would
be fucking had they not have clothes on, and Mia and Ethan are not as indecent.
Anastasia takes another sip of her champagne.
“Here,” I say and put another glass of water before her, and regard
her intently. I want her to drink it, because she’s going to puke if she doesn’t.
This time, she doesn’t argue, and does as she’s told.
I lift the bottle of Peroni from the ice bucket on the table and take
a long, relaxing drink.
“What if there had been press here?” she asks.
“I have expensive lawyers,” I say coolly. There’s a reason why I pay
them. I don’t bother to worry about such scumbags.
She frowns at me. “But you’re not above the law, Christian. I did
have the situation under control.”
My eyes turns icy. “No one touches what’s mine,” I say with
frightening inevitability. She’s missing the obvious. She’s mine, my wife, my
woman, my girl. No one else touches her the way I do. It’s that simple. She
takes another sip of her champagne. She swings in her place, looking woozy. I
clasp her hand. “Come, lets’ go. I want to get you home,” I say. Kate and
Elliot join us.
“You going?” Kate asks hopefully.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Good, we’ll come with you.”
I can’t even handle another man eyeing my wife let alone touch her,
so I go and retrieve her trench coat by myself. When I finally return to my
wife, she’s standing with Kate.
“Here,” I say as I hold the coat open for her, and, finally put it
on, and cover my wife up.