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

CHAPTER XXI

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.

“Perfect weather 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.

“Let’s split up,” my sister claps her hands. “Girls, shopping, and boys go do your boring outdoor stuff!”

Anastasia looks 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.

“Taylor will 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.”

Kavanagh frowns 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.

Elliot frowns, 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.

“Yeah. Good 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 offer.

“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.

“Hey, bro!”

“Hi, Elliot. What’s up?”

“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?”

“Tonight’s your 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 say teasing.

“You’re a 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.

Ethan already 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 the girls.

                                                                 ****❦ ♡ ❧*****

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?”

“Yeah, though 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. 

“You should 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 grinning.

“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 one!

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, and add under my breath, ‘in about a million years!’

“Can I ask you something man?”

“Yes, you can. Though I reserve the right not to answer,” I reply reeling my rod after it snags.

“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 say grinning.

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 wading jacket.

“Hi,” I say with a quizzical expression, completely ignoring the rest of the company in the garage.

“Hi. Nice coveralls,” she says.

“Lots of 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.

“You’re wet,” she murmurs.

“It was raining. What are you guys doing in the garage?” I ask finally acknowledging the rest of the company.

“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 death trap!

“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.

“Leave it, 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. 

“Not me. Kavanagh did,” I reply, pouting.

Anastasia burst out laughing. Come on! Don’t rub salt in my wound!

“Mrs. Bentley 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.

                                                                 ****❦ ♡ ❧*****

Anastasia goes 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.

“Yes,” she 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 ask.

“I was thinking how much I’ve missed you.”

“You sound like you have it bad, Mrs. Grey.”

“I have, Mr. Grey.”

I saunter 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 needs.

“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.

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.

“Husband... I’ve 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 – Bruce Springsteen 

Her fingers 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.

“Ahhh! Ana!”

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 bodies wholly.  

She’s spent and completely satisfied on my chest.

“Shit, the water!” she shouts as she struggles to sit up, but I don’t release her.

“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.

________________________________________________________

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: Does My Butt Look Big In This?

Date: August 27, 2011 18: 53 MST

To: Christian Grey

Mr. Grey

I need your sartorial advice.

Yours

Mrs. G x

________________________________________________________

Reading her e-mail in an unguarded moment gives me a big lascivious grin.

“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.

________________________________________________________

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Peachy

Date: August 27, 2011 18: 55 MST

To: Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey

I seriously doubt it.

But I will come and give your butt a thorough examination just to make sure.

Yours in anticipation

Mr. G x

Christian Grey,

CEO Grey Enterprises Holdings and Butt Inspectorate Inc.

________________________________________________________

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,” I say.

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 this.”

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 eyes everywhere.

                                                                 ****❦ ♡ ❧*****

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 once more.  

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 Kate.

“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 manner.

“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 reply.

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 you.

“Ana?” I ask.

“Champagne, please.”

“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 pleasure.

“Women usually do,” she says sardonically. I grin ear to ear with her reaction.

“Mrs. Grey, are you jealous?”

“Not in the slightest,” she says pouting. I grasp her hand and kiss her knuckles.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, Mrs. Grey,” I murmur close to her ear, seductively.

“I know.”

“Good.”

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 response.

“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 stands.

“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 ass.

“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 my voice.

“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?” I ask.

“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.