Wednesday, July 31, 2013

BOOK IV - Chapter IX - Christian and Anastasia FanFiction



Monday came fast enough. I wake up before the radio alarm goes off. Anastasia and I are wrapped in each other’s arms. If I move, she’ll wake up. I shift in the bed slowly trying to move my arm under her head. But that makes her roll into me, and she holds my torso in her sleep, trying to situate herself in the bed trying to fit her soft body to the contours of my hard muscles. As she moves to find a perfect position to sleep in my grasp, her breasts rub around my chest hair, and her nipples awaken my senses. My erection springs, laying between us a thick and heavy rope, digging into her.  Awareness of my intruding cock, throbbing over her soft flesh wakes her up.

“Good morning to you, too, husband,” she says smiling half asleep into my chest.

“Hi,” I kiss her forehead.

“Hmmm,” she murmurs. Shifting her head slightly, she kisses my neck. "Guess you're happy to see me."

“We don’t have to… if you don’t feel up to it…” I say.

Ana’s hand reaches to my erection and she rubs her thumb over the burning wide crest of my erection spreading the dew over the tip. Her singular touch almost immediately fires up my body, and send shock-waves all through my extremities curling my toes. She fucking lit the fuse! 

“We’ve gone all weekend without it. Can’t treat me like I’m made of glass, Christian,” she complains.

I groan and take her lips with urgent demand, sucking her lips and feel the luscious softness. My tongue is all over her mouth at once, thrusting, caressing deeply, stroking in sensual licks. She moans into my mouth, surrendering and taking. My hands move to her head to hold her in place, and as I carefully place her beneath me, I loom over her.

“Christian,” she moans, raising her head, her mouth meets mine, her arms wrap around my neck. “I’m hungry… I just got a bad craving,” she murmurs into my mouth.

“Huh? Now?” I ask incredulous, lifting my head up to get a good look at her face. Once Anastasia is turned on, she normally has no off switch. She wants food now, yet she looks at me as if I’m something to eat.

“Now,” she groans, and her tummy gurgles as if to back her up. Puzzled, I pull back up, hot and frustrated.

“Well, I guess we can get breakfast,” I say looking down at my disappointed erection, now throbbing.

“I want a chocolate Popsicle.”

“A chocolate Popsicle ” I ask, testing the words of her odd request. I’m the husband of a pregnant wife. Guess I have to be prepared to get odd food requests at unexpected times, like when I’m ready to make love to her.

“Uhm… I’m not sure if Mrs. Jones purchased any chocolate Popsicle. I’ll have to check in the freezer,” I say. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?” I ask trying to hide my disappointment.

“Oh, I want breakfast alright, but I want it here. You find the chocolate syrup in the pantry and bring it back please; I’m looking at my Popsicle right now,” she says her gaze is locked on my erection. It takes me a moment to register.

“You want to dip my cock in chocolate?” I ask as my gaze is darkening with wanton desire.

“I want my Christian Grey flavored chocolate Popsicle, now!” she demands.

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply with another glance at my wife and pull the sheet from the bed leaving her completely naked for my eyes, and wrap it around my waist. Wordlessly, I go out of our room, and quickly make my way to kitchen. Gail is in the kitchen working. She looks up as my feet softly pads way towards the pantry.

“Good morning Mr. Gr... Grey,” she say stuttering seeing my half naked state under my bed spread, and immediately lowers her eye.

“Morning Gail,” I reply and open the pantry. My gaze quickly scans the contents situated on the shelves. Finding a bottle of Ghirardelli’s Sweet Ground Chocolate Sauce, I take the bottle, and with Gail’s puzzled gaze following my retreating steps, I make my way back to our bedroom. Seeing the Ghirardelli bottle in my hand, Anastasia grins and rubs her hand together.

“Yes! My favorite!” she says and almost attacks the bottle ripping it out of my hand. It’s fucking hot because not only my wife wants to suck me dry but also eat off of me. She licks her lips hungrily her gaze going from the bottle to my heavy erection.

“I’m hungry, husband. Feed me,” she says smiling lustfully, beckoning me with the crook of her finger, then pats the space on the bed next to her like the Siren’s call.

“Alright Mrs. Grey. Have it your way,” I say as I stretch next to her. My cock, a thick rope lies heavy against my belly. Anastasia grins and straddles me. Placing the unopened bottle of chocolate next to me, she slowly, purposefully leans down until her nipples slowly touch and tease me on her ascent towards my lips. When she reaches my neck, she places light kisses over the side of my neck, my ear. Capturing my earlobe between her teeth, she slowly tugs it into her mouth and sucks deep. Oh shit! I feel the effects of it on the crown of my cock. Her lips move to the side of my face, my chin, grazing over my stubble, stimulating her senses. When she finally makes her way to my lips, she traces them with the tip of her tongue, and finally covers it with her now swollen lips. Our lips mold over each other, kissing passionately, sucking and teasing.

“I am going to lick the chocolate off your cock and then suck my favorite Popsicle dry,” whispers against my mouth making me even harder. As her lips retract back slowly, making me feel bereft and needy, she travels back down my body slowly, kissing, licking and nipping.  

Once her lips reach my belly button, she traces the circumference with her tongue, and darts it into my belly button. Then slowly and leisurely, she traces her nose over my happy trail, still moving south. Finding my heavy ball sack she lifts it with her hand and gently sucks it. I hiss a harsh breath between my teeth. She pays the same attention to my other ball. Finally, she traces her tongue from the root of my cock to the dewy tip. The wide crest of my cock is both feverish and pulsing with need for her. Anastasia leans down, her hair cascading on the sides of her head in chestnut waterfalls. Her right hand grasps the root of my thick cock. She slightly lifts her long eyelashes and our gazes meet. Anastasia runs her tongue over her upper lip showing me how hungry she is for my cock.

“Fuuuuck!” The word escapes my lips in a hissing blow. She lowers her mouth; her gaze still locked with mine and her soft lips encases my steely erection starting with the soft tip first. The tip of her tongue swirls and strokes the crown gently, rhythmically. I clutch the pillows on both sides of me. Then her lips and mouth leaves my cock and I feel the cool drips of chocolate on the very tip of my cock as Anastasia’s hand is holding the root up like a Popsicle. When the first lazy drop hits the tip, the sensation coupled by her ravenous gaze on her prize is thrilling. She licks her lips. Then another and another and another drop of chocolate land on my crown and slowly oozes down the shaft and over my erection, finally coating the crescent formed by her thumb and the index finger, pooling. Once my cock is completely covered with chocolate, looking like a rather overlarge banana, Anastasia grins as she looks at me, and without breaking her gaze, her mouth descends on my cock.

Her lips first touch the tip, and she sucks the chocolate rather ravenously, jolting my body with an incredible sensation. She keeps her attention on the tip first and when she slightly raises her head just to look at me, her lips are covered in dark brown chocolate. A swipe of her tongue clears the most of the chocolate out of her lips, and I want to do that, but I restrain myself. She bites her lower lip and descends her mouth on my chocolate covered cock again. This time she slowly licks the chocolate off as if she’s licking melted ice-cream from a cone to not to let it go to waste. She finally looms down and sucks my cock to the hilt. As her mouth ascends back up to the tip, so does her hand covered in chocolate, freshly coating my cock again.

My heart is racing, my toes are curling, and my eyes are rolling into the back of my head with the overwhelming and rather unexpected but extremely welcome amorous attack. Her mouth, lips, teeth and hand work tirelessly on my cock, and I build up and up, but try to hold the sensation in a little longer. As she grazes down my cock with the slight clasp of her teeth and soothing the sting with her talented tongue, I hold the sides of the headboard, buck my hip into her mouth matching her movement. She pushes my cock to the hollow of her cheek, with suction, and pulls me in deeply inviting my come into her mouth. I reach my peak shouting, “Oh, ffffuuuck! Anaaa!” and come in large spurts into her welcoming mouth.

When the sparks before my eyes subside to give way to sight, I see her smiling face, her lips and chin covered in chocolate. I sit up in a rush and come face to face with her. I take her face between my hands and possess her lips with mine, taking not asking, conquering not visiting. I taste a mingle of flavors in her mouth. Chocolate, Anastasia and me. What an intoxicating concoction!

“Mrs. Grey, now that we’ve assuaged one of your appetites, I think it’s time to satisfy others,” I murmur into her mouth as I carefully lower her onto her back. This time, I loom over her.

“Let’s see how this chocolate tastes on you.” My smile is dark and lascivious. I take the chocolate bottle and let large drops fall onto her nipples lazily slide down over her soft peaks. I make a trail leading down to her belly and partly over the junction of her waxed thighs.

“Don’t… Move…” I order distinctly. I hold her hands above her head with one of mine and lick the chocolate trailing down to her sternum making my way up over the peak. With a swipe of my tongue, I clear the chocolate, leaving a light residue behind, and suck the peak with a force that Ana bucks her hips, and spreading chocolate to my torso.

Every Breath You Take - Sting

“Oh, baby, you moved,” I say grinning, and restrain her legs with mine.

As my mouth moves down towards her belly button, she moans incoherently, trying to move and create a friction.

“You move when I tell you to move, baby. Slow, Ana, slow…” I say looking up from her belly button. I dip my tongue into her belly and lick the trickling chocolate. Once it’s all cleared, I seal my lips over her womb, and kiss our baby, stopping all of Anastasia’s movements, even breathing. Our gazes lock, and I let go of her hands, and then move over her sex. It’s been waxed clean. I lean down and lick over her pubic bone. Once it’s clear, I lower my lips to the blooms of her sex. My tongue slowly lapping, and dipping into her tight slit. I thrust my tongue further into her, and her hands reach my hair, and pushing her hips into my mouth, her fingers tangled in my hair pulls it hard, urging me to get her to her climax. I take my tongue out and run my stubble over her sensitive tissue, and she shrieks in delight.

“Please, Christian!” she begs.

“And please you, I shall, baby…” I murmur, and suck her clit into my mouth while relentlessly pleasuring her with my tongue. As she starts building and screaming her pleasure, I dart my tongue into her sex, plunging deep, I swoop it around counter clock wise, and find her secret spot in the front wall of her vagina, giving her double orgasm.

As she is writhing in pleasure, I plunge my cock to the root, driving her into the mattress, pounding. Every slap my balls deliver to the base of her sex stimulates me even further, massaging, and coaxing. As I thrust my cock into the depths of her sex, I hold Anastasia’s buttocks and gyrate my hips, locating her sweet spot. When I further lean to capture Ana’s lips she moves down and pulls my right nipple into her mouth between her teeth and then sucks… deep and hard making my cock thicken even further in her sex. My urge to fuck her goes animalistic, and I lean down grinning, forcing her lip up to meet mine. We’re all tongue, lips, and sex, driving into each other madly. When we let go of the lips, I capture her nipple, sucking her.

“Christian, hurry!” she shouts, tipping me over the edge. We come loudly, both of us lost in pleasure, both of us sticky with chocolate and sex. Grabbing her rolling onto my back, I let her collapse onto me. Connected, holding each other, we lie on the bed for several minutes.

“I’ve missed this… I’ve missed fucking you, being inside of you, Mrs. Grey,” I say.

“Making love,” she corrects me.

“No matter how rough, how driven, how animalistic, it’s always making love with you, wife…always.”

*****  *****
After shower we quietly dry each other. Anastasia’s bruises are nearly gone, thank God. I slowly kneel down drying her body with a plush towel, and finally reaching down to her feet with the towel making sure she's completely dry.

“Are you going to work today?” she asks.

“Yes, I have work to catch up,” I say though I have quite a lot of work completed at home. Linc might be released today. I have to prepare for a battle.

“I want to go to work today. I’ve missed a lot of work, too.”

“I would prefer that you stay home…” I say.

“Christian!” she starts protesting. “I want to work. Hyde is in jail. Elisabeth is in jail. I want to go to work. I’ll be bored to death at home,” she protests.

“You didn’t let me finish,” I say softly, rising up. When we come face to face, I lift her chin up to look at me. “…but, I will let you go to work if you follow ALL the security protocols. It’s not just about you anymore. I need to protect our baby as well,” I say my hand on her belly.

“You want to keep this little blip safe, don’t you?” She nods her head, completely silent, breathless. “Then you and I have to cooperate when it comes to your safety and our baby’s…” she nods her agreement wordlessly, her eyes wide.

“There’s going to be additional security at SIP…”I say and she rolls her eyes, groaning.

“Baby, you have to remember that your boss, Elisabeth Morgan passed my security’s scrutiny, your judgment and we’ve completely overlooked her relationship with Hyde. There will always be others who will have ill will towards us. I’m a high profile man, unapproachable for nearly all of those people who wish me harm. But you, my lovely wife,” I say holding her face in my hand, “…you are my Achilles heel.” She frowns.

“I’m not weak, Christian!”

“No, baby,” I caress her cheek with the back of my hand. “No… You’re not weak. But I am when it comes to you… Can you understand that?” I ask searching her face. “You are the single most important person in the world to me. More important to me than my own life! You are my safe place. The only person that has the power to make me whole, to make me deliriously happy, madly in love, passionately angry, and the only person who holds the power in her small hands to destroy me,” I whisper.

“Christian! How could you say that? Why or how would I destroy you? How could I wield such a power?” she utters emphatically with hurt.

“Baby, you are easier to approach. You are my world. If you’re gone in any shape or form, I’m irrevocably destroyed. So, protecting yourself also means you’re protecting our child, and your husband,” my voice goes lower. “We’re team, Ana. How could you think I survive, if you didn’t?”

She nods her head unequivocally, agreeing. “Okay. Yes, yes, to the security. But, please give me room to breathe. Because I don’t want to have the fear of asking your permission to do simple things, and not doing what you exactly want me to do in order to get a little room to breath. And…" she says changing gears, "I also want to thank you for treating me like an adult and explaining,” she says swallowing.

There are a lot more I need to conceal from her for the time being keep her from worrying. Lincoln is a threat still to my family’s well-being.  

*****  *****

We get dressed. Anastasia chooses a charcoal grey suit for me with a crisp white shirt. She puts on her cream colored lace bra and underwear. The she sits on the bed, and makes a mouthwatering show of putting her tan color silk stockings on. When she clips them onto her garter belt, a hard swallow passes through my throat. Locating her sleeveless cream colored silk blouse with a V neck perfectly fitting her form, she puts it on and buttons them only up to the bottom of her bra. I narrow my eyes on her. She only smiles mischievously in response and then slowly, purposefully puts her pencil skirt on which matches the color of my suit. After shaping her hair into a chignon she applies lip gloss, eye liner and mascara. After rubbing and smacking her lips together, she puts her tan high heeled Louboutins on. She looks good enough to peel those clothes off and make love again!

“You don’t plan on walking out of here, with this, are you? Wife?” I ask raising my eyebrows. My index finger is tracing the lines of her silk bra.

“What would you suggest, husband?” she asks batting her eyelashes innocently.

“These,” I say my hand rubbing over her straining breasts, “these are mine! And so are you! Don’t forget that. I don’t want other men ogling my wife. My pregnant wife,” I whisper soft and dark.

“You’d do well to button it up at least two more buttons,” I add.

“Oh, Christian!” she protests. “Maybe one more. I’m yours! Everyone knows that,” she negotiates rolling her eyes.

“Ok, Mrs. Grey, one more. Just as long as everyone knows you’re mine.”

*****  *****

The ride to SIP is silent. I hold Anastasia’s hand, running gentle, sensual circles inside her palm, then over her knuckles.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“Good. I ate a lot at breakfast,” she says making a displeased face. “Mrs. Jones packed my lunch. I think I’m good to go. I’m looking forward to getting back to normal,” she says and I nod.

Taylor pulls in front of the SIP, putting the car on park. Sawyer jumps out and opens Ana’s door as Taylor opens my door. I step out of the car, and walk behind the SUV in sure strides and hold my wife’s hand. Sawyer follows us a few steps back discreetly. Coming to SIP’s door, I pull her to me, and kiss her with all I’ve got. Nearly losing her, first thinking she was leaving me, and then thinking she died, and finally seeing her in the hospital in a comatose state, permanently and conclusively changed me. Carpe Diem. I want to take every opportunity to kiss her, love her and declare to everyone that this woman is my wife! Mine and mine alone! When she’s thoroughly kissed and breathless, I hold her hand again, and walk her into the building.

“Welcome back Ana!” greets the African-American receptionist. Her large hoops of earring are dangling as she stands up rushing to Ana to give her a hug, taking her completely by surprise. Ana returns her hug with one hand as her other hand is firmly held in mine. “Soooo glad to see you well! Oh, hello Mr. Grey!” she says, her eyes widening. Finally, I manage to take Ana into her small office with ‘welcome backs’ and other well wishes. But of course, every single one of these employees are have already been thoroughly checked and examined. The security Welch has put in SIP are as good as Sawyer. Their job is to watch Ana, and tightly examine each and every visitor. They’re the first line of defense to Anastasia.

Hearing the commotion, Roach comes out. Seeing me in the building, his eyes widen, and with hasty steps he approaches me.

“Mr. Grey! How nice to see you. Is Ana back?”

“Yes, she is back today.”

“Would you like to sit down, sir?”

“No, I just came to drop my wife off.”

“If there’s anything…”

“Not at the moment, Roach,” I say, nodding to Sawyer, I walk out.

“Examine all the employees who wish to have contact with Ana. Other editors, staffers, clients, everyone. Stay close to her, and let me know if anything, I do mean ANYTHING,” I say emphasizing, “…is suspicious, different, or unexpected approaches Mrs. Grey to if she intends to do anything of that nature,” I order.

“Yes, sir.”

When I get back to the SUV, Taylor lets me in the car and closes the door behind me. His eyes meet mine on the rear-view mirror. I raise my eyebrows questioning.

“Welch called. He’s at the Grey House with two of your lawyers. Lincoln has been released on $250,000 bail this morning,” he states.

“Anything else?” I ask with carefully reined anger.

“Yes, three of Welch’s men are on stakeout 24/7 following his every move,” he says as he puts the SUV in gear and eases into the morning traffic.

*****  *****

“Mr. Grey! How nice to see you, sir!” Andrea greets me.

“Thank you Andrea. Where are they?” I ask.

“I thought it would be best to put them in Meeting Room 1, but if you wish I can send them to your office. What would you prefer?”

“Send them into my office in ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like me to go over your schedule now, or after you’re done with your meeting?”

“After would be fine.”

I turn my computer on, and sit in my leather executive chair. Andrea’s disembodied voice alerts me of my company.  

“Send them in Andrea,” I say, the back of my chair turned to the door. My gaze is fixed on the city of Seattle. I hear the door close behind me. Someone clears his throat.

“Sit down gentlemen,” I say.

“Taylor,” I hear Welch’s short greeting.

“Welch,” he responds with a greeting of his own, equal in its cool.

I turn my chair around to meet three curious gazes, two of which are anxious except for Welch.

“What have you got for me this morning?” I ask turning my gaze to the lawyer who fucked up with Hyde’s release.

“Mr. Grey,” he starts clearing his throat, the swallowing. “Mr. Lincoln has been released this morning on $250,000 bail. We have of course made every attempt to prevent his release. The two security guards who have been seriously injured have filed complaints, and we have made it very clear to the judge that if Mr. Lincoln is released on bail, he has the potential of harming others as he has harmed two security guards who were only doing their jobs. His attorneys argued that the Mr. Lincoln experienced extenuating circumstance with a hostile takeover of his company and was in a complete shock. He thought he was going to his own company where he was the CEO and finding resistance from the security guards when they tried to prevent his access, his lawyers argued that Lincoln went into temporary insanity.”

I look at Welch. Raise my eyebrows wordlessly, questioning whether he was at the hearing.

“Yes, sir I was there,” he replies gives me an imperceptible nod confirming what the lawyer is saying. My lawyers Trent Baxter who is still on my shit-list and Larry Hodge look surprised.

“How did you rebuttal Lincoln’s lawyer’s statement?” I say in a menacingly soft voice, the focus of my piercing gaze is singularly located on Baxter. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Then Hodge clears his throat.

“If you allow me Mr. Grey, I’ve made that argument. I argued that Mr. Lincoln is not the owner of Lincoln Timber, but the CEO even if the company that bears his name. It has been a public entity for the last 15 years. For him to claim it as his own would be fallacious. In business world companies and stocks are traded and it should not be a shock to Mr. Lincoln that a publicly traded company will have buyers and the ownership of it will change daily. That’s the nature of corporate business. Understanding this fact, Mr. Lincoln has made the company public, offering ALL of its stock for sale fifteen years ago, and appointing himself as the CEO.

The outcome of such an act should not surprise Mr. Lincoln, because has made the decision to forego of the entitlements the ownership of a private company, in return accepting a position only as a CEO, and the governing board has the power to vote a CEO out of a job even if the company wasn't sold. These are all written in the corporate charter which he signed.

Therefore, it was not a temporary insanity problem Mr. Lincoln experienced, but a severe anger management issue which left two security guards with broken limbs and bones who will take weeks if not months to recover.”

“His lawyer argued that in due process, if the governing board voted the CEO out, Mr. Lincoln would have to be informed face to face; they argued that he was fired without an agreed on communication plan. They said that he had not even received a phone call.”

“What did you say to that?”

“He said,” Welch says looking at Larry, “your honor, Mr. Lincoln isn’t fired. He’s still the CEO. A lot of the decisions in regards to the purchase and inclusion of Lincoln Timber is still under gag order. Therefore I’m not at liberty to discuss the details per the provisions of those laws governing that business transaction. But what I can tell you is that Mr. Lincoln should have contacted his new boss, Mr. Christian Grey as opposed to beating the security guards an inch of their lives.’ Then of course, Lincoln’s face changed, he jumped to his feet, his shackles and cuffs jangling and shouted, ‘who the fuck did you say?’ Guess he didn’t know for sure that it was you who fucked him over. His face was priceless, by the way.

The judge called the court to order and severely reprimanded Lincoln’s lawyer to restrain his client. Then Lincoln shouted that such information was to be told to him face to face, and not over the phone or not in the mail. But Baxter here,” says Welch jabbing his thumb in Baxter’s direction, “…said that Lincoln never gave the due process a chance. The certified mail just arrived that very day which of course the final day of the waiting period, and the land wasn’t even owned by us anymore, but by two other companies. In truth, it wasn't even our business to tell him anyway. Lincoln was meddling into the other companies’ business dealings.’

‘I am the CEO of Lincoln Timber!’ he shouted, and of course the Judge was pretty pissed by then and said his lawyers better restrain their client for the last time, if he has another outburst like that he will be removed from the courtroom. And Baxter here said that Mr. Lincoln did not lose his job at all. He was still the CEO of Lincoln Timber and he needed to confer with his new boss, namely you, sir,” Welch finishes.

“What did the judge order?” I ask, Welch continues.

“Before the judge could order anything, Lincoln jumped up, and his lawyers stood up on both sides, trying to force him down back to his seat, and being cuffed and shackled he shoved them both, and tried to lunge forward towards your lawyers. The bailiff ran and a couple of them tackled Lincoln down as he was still writhing and struggling. They removed him from the courtroom, of course. The judge saw firsthand that he was having anger management issues. After he was removed, and his lawyers cleaned themselves up, then the judge ordered the asshole, I mean, Mr. Lincoln to go through an intensive anger management course and the reports were to be submitted to the court as well as go through a psychiatric evaluation to see if he has other issues as his attorneys claimed to get a treatment…”

Baxter cuts into the conversation and says, “this outburst of behavior is precisely what will aid us, sir. Because we can claim that Mr. Lincoln is unfit to make healthy management decisions and therefore it is better if he stepped down from his position as the CEO of Lincoln Timber which of course is a company no longer exists. He will come here this afternoon as Mr. Welch has indicated,” he says and starts babbling on how his research over the weekend, which was time away from his plans of sailing with his family. And all his efforts now gave us the glowing results he managed to pull through this morning.

“Stop! Talking!” I order in a dangerous, but clear voice resonating through my office. Even though I’m not shouting, and my voice is in a soft tone, it is unmistakably commanding and dominating. Baxter stops immediately.

I turn my face to Welch.

“He’s due here at 1:30 p.m. today.”

“Got the paperwork?” I ask Larry.

Baxter clears his throat again. “I prepared them for you on Sunday, sir,” he says extending a large folder.

“I went over the corporate charter and the clauses to fire the CEO. The rules state…” he starts.

“I know what the corporate charter contains Baxter. I am well aware of the clauses Lincoln has put in to cover his ass. The new clauses indicated that they didn’t foresee a revenue growth until 2014 due to the global recession, and if he was fired for not turning a corporate profit, he would have to have his lawyers waiting for him.

If he was being fired for reasons other than profit, then that would have to be sexual harassment, specter of a bad PR, or facing allegations of expense fraud. It doesn’t even have to be proven. It just has to be a substantial allegation. I have PROOF!” I say and slam my folder down to my mahogany table making both Baxter and Larry jump. “I have the paper trail and not just an allegation. What I want you to draft now is a strong separation agreement so that if he takes another job I can live with it and he will never get to sue me or ask for a settlement. Put in the breach clauses. Should he breach the agreement, then he agrees to the financial penalties without argument or refusal.”

Both Baxter and Larry look dumbfounded. They blink for a minute wordlessly, their mouths agape with identical facial expressions.

“Close your mouths,” says Welch, shaking his head.

“It’ll take me at least until late tomorrow to draft it and it might not even be ready by Wednesday, uhm, sir,” babbles Baxter.

“You have until 1 p.m. today. You two better get to it then. I don’t care how you do it. My assistant can provide you one of the meeting rooms to work in. Call your assistants; get it done on time, by not one minute later than 1:00 p.m. today, gentlemen!”

“Mr. Grey, it’s a bit complicated…” wrings Baxter his hands. “You see, I’m due in court this afternoon, and I was going to attend a dinner by the Washington Bar Association.”

“Apparently I’m not making myself clear… Baxter!” I hiss leaning on my table, my hand splayed. He takes an involuntary step back. “I was hoping that there was a whole brain between the two of you. I don’t want, need or care for your excuses. I don’t give a shit about your next court schedule, or who you will rub elbows with tonight, or what school function your brood is going to have that you absolutely must attend!” I exhale through my flaring nostrils. My eyes are focused on Baxter.

“I’m asking you one God damned task!” I shout only loud enough as I slam both my fists on the table. “You will complete this task today by the appointed time without excuses, without a single letter out of place, and on time. Welch, clearly they can’t do anything without being baby sat! I need you to look over every fucking detail they write, and bring it to me before the fucker arrives. Do you have any excuses Larry?” I ask my senior attorney.

“No, sir. I never did,” he says giving Baxter a dirty look for getting him in trouble. “I have no problem completing the contract and then some.”

“Very well. Do it!”

As Welch herds out the now skittish Baxter, huffing Larry who is still scowling at his associate, Taylor suppresses a smile and trains his gaze on the lamp directly in his line of vision.

I sit back in my chair, and Andrea comes into the office with her tablet.

“Mr. Grey, is now a good time to go over your schedule?”

“Yes, let’s.”

“Since, you said that you weren’t absolutely sure if you were coming today, there’s one scheduled meeting after lunch, and Ros would like to have a meeting with you over lunch. I also e-mailed you design schematics from the engineering team for the wind-up technology with a solar back-up…” she says and I raise my eyebrows interested.

“They were looking to schedule a meeting this week. Shall I put a meeting in the agenda, sir?”

“Tomorrow perhaps, sometime in the morning. I might not be available in the afternoon,” I say thoughtful. “Get me an appointment with Dr. Flynn tomorrow afternoon after business hours, five p.m.”

“If he’s not available, is there any other day you wish to make the appointment?” What the hell is this today? All of a sudden, I have to accommodate others.

“No, Andrea! I want my appointment at five p.m. tomorrow evening. Not 4:55 not 5:05 p.m. 5:00 pm. Got it? That’s the only slot I want. And the only way there won’t be any appointment tomorrow is if Dr. Flynn is dead,” I order with my gaze fixed on her.

“My apologies, sir. Of course. Five p.m. at Dr. Flynn’s office.” I pay Flynn a small fortune to be accommodating and available. I have not had an appointment with him in the last few weeks. He can fucking accommodate me!

“Is there anything else I can do for you sir?”

“That would be all.” Andrea retreats from my office quickly like a rat running away from a sinking ship.  

As soon as Andrea leaves, I dial Anastasia’s number. She answers after six rings. The late reply momentarily concerns me. Just before her voice mail picks up, she responds in a breathy voice.


“Ana! Are you alright?” She clears her throat, and takes a gulp of something. Water?

“Yes, I am. I had something to eat, but it didn’t agree with me, and well, just came back from the bathroom. I rushed through my door to get to the phone, and I nearly stumbled on my heels.”

“What?” I say standing up. Taylor is alert. I shake my head.

“Calm down. I didn’t fall down. When I heard your ring tone, I was anxious to talk to you. I’ve missed you today.”

“I missed you too, baby,” I whisper.

“Listen, Christian. I talked to Ray this morning, and he said he is going to be discharged this afternoon. I wanted to leave early at maybe 3:30 and see him before he leaves.”

“Ana, I’ll come with you. Or rather, I’ll meet you at the hospital. I have a meeting this afternoon. I’ll leave as soon as I’m done with it. Who’s taking Ray back to Montesano?”

“Jose and Mr. Rodriguez,” she responds softly.

I remain quiet for thirty seconds.

“Are you mad?” she asks.


“That would be nice."

“Well, I'm not mad, however I’m always jealous of my wife, but I’ll deal,” I respond.

“Oh, Christian. I’m yours, and I love you. You have nothing to be jealous about. You are my husband and the father of our baby,” she says emphatically. And somehow the knowledge, the proof of my possession, our baby is more than welcome if she gets to see Jose Rodriguez this evening.

“Yes, I am. Okay, I’ll see you after my meeting. I love you.”

“I love you too, Christian.”

“And Ana…”


“Sawyer comes with you everywhere. Lunch in the office.”

“Oh, Christian. I just puked my lunch out. I might have to go to the deli and get something else to eat.”

“Remember to go with Sawyer!”

“Yes, Sir!” she says exasperated.

“I know you’re rolling your eyes,” I whisper. She giggles in response.

“I know you do, Mr. Grey. Hang up now. I’ve got tons of work to do before I go to the hospital.”

“No, you first.”

“You know I don’t want to,” she says giggling.

“I’ve missed you already, Ana.”

“I’ve missed you too, husband. But…” but we’re interrupted by her intercom.

“Ana, Mr. Roach would like to talk to you. Could you pick up line 1 please?”

“Guess I have to go. My boss is calling.”

“What the hell does he want?”

“I won’t know until I pick up the phone, Christian. I’ll see later at the hospital. I love you!”

“I love you, too. Bye baby.”

“Bye!” she says and we both hang up at the same time.

Jose Rodriguez… Ironically, I don’t feel as insecure about his presence near my wife at the hospital. There is a certain sense of ease in me. I am absolutely sure of my wife’s love for me, and we have the blip to prove it. Our blip. Not Rodriguez’s. Ours… Ana’s and mine.

“Mr. Grey? Ros is here sir,” Andrea’s disembodied voice calls, bringing me out of my self pep-talk.

“Send her in!”

Fifteen seconds later Ros walks through the door.

“Hi, Christian! Welcome back. How’s Ana?”

“She’s well, thank you. Also back to work today.”

“I thought we’d discuss strategy when you do the honors of firing Mr. Lincoln’s very violent ass.”

“You talked to the lawyers?”

“Talked to them? I was at the court this morning. I wanted to take notes. I think the firing was going to come, and I wanted to assess and measure the man myself.”

“And what’s your conclusion?” I ask curiously.

“Infuriated but controlled, domineering and calculating. But the biggest kicker was when he heard your name, he had the look of a deer in the headlights; completely blindsided which changed in an instant to something I had never seen before. Pure, absolute hatred which makes him extremely dangerous, Christian. He reined in his temper which was in a flash. I’ve never seen anyone to go from full blown rage into a placid face; like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” I will have to keep Lincoln under tight scrutiny to prevent him causing any harm to my family.

“He’s Jekyll alright. Hyde’s ass is already in jail.”


“Nothing…Let’s just go to lunch, and discuss the strategy,” I say, and Taylor opens the door for us.

*****  *****

We are back at exactly 12:55. The lawyers are ready with the contract I asked them to draft.

“Ros, let’s go over the items on the contact,” I say. She takes a chair pulling it up next to me and in the next twenty minutes, we go over each item on the contract. Feeling satisfied with the outcome, she takes one of the copies in the folder.

Andrea walks in:

“Mr. Grey your next meeting has arrived. I’ve taken them into the Meeting Room 3, sir.”

“How many of them?”

“Mr. Lincoln and two of his lawyers, sir.”

“Showtime, Ros,” I say and exit my office flanked by Ros and Taylor. My lawyers and Welch are waiting outside my office.

We open the door to the Meeting Room 3, and Lincoln is pacing the room as his lawyers are situated in their seats looking extremely uncomfortable. Their demeanor changes as we enter into the room.

Lincoln’s gaze gets colder and colder when he sees me. His eyes are solely focused on me. We are two predators caged in the same environment.

“Welcome everyone, please be seated,” Ros says pleasantly as my group take their seats except Taylor and Welch. They take the opposite sides of the door in a guarding position. Lincoln takes note of their stance. 

“I don’t have to listen to a cunt!” hisses Lincoln.

“Well, shut your mouth up so you don’t have to hear yourself Mr. Lincoln. Seat yourself,” says Ros still smiling. 

Linc’s gaze and mine are locked, and both of our stares are filled with rage, and animosity towards each other.

“So, you stole my company out under me and you think you can get away with it?” he hisses.

“Mr. Lincoln?” warns his lawyer. He shoves his lawyer's arm.

“You have not had a company for the last 15 years. It was a public company where you were the CEO,” I say calm and controlled, exerting all my faculties to rein in my temper. I want to fucking beat the shit out of him. But I will not give him the satisfaction of breaking down and giving into my anger. A dominant knows how to manage that anger. “However, since last week after your violent outbursts where you harmed my employees on my land…” I say but he cuts me off.

“Your land! Your land?? Are you fucking insane? It’s been my land since my grandfather! It’s my company’s land!” he shouts, trembling in his spot.

“Mr. fucking Lincoln! Let me remind you again since it doesn’t seem to register in your brain that you have not owned the company in the last 15 years. It hasn't been yours to begin with.” The words are out of my lips like a poisonous hiss. “I cannot in good conscience continue to employ you Mr. Lincoln. Hospitalizing two of my company's employees, combined with today’s outbursts at the court, you have proven that you have anger management issues and possibly manic episodes or schizophrenia which would be detrimental for a high level officer in my company; a risk we are not willing to take. You are fucking fired Mr. Lincoln!”

“How dare you?! How dare you fire me! How dare you sell my fucking company I worked so hard for?”

Woke up This Morning - Alabama

“I dare Mr. Lincoln. You stirred the hornet’s nest! You fuck with me, I will make sure you are impotent to never to fuck with anyone else again!”

“You sold my company!” he shouts! "My fucking heritage!"

“I sold a company where I owned the majority of the stocks; a company from which you stole nearly $54 million Dollars! What have you done with the investors’ money, Lincoln?” He pales with the accusation, but quickly composes himself.

“You have no proof of that!” he says, but his voice is hesitant, knowing well that he has embezzled

“Oh, I have plenty of proof. IRS is eager to hear stashed away money in various off shore accounts, and I can’t wait to see the look on your face when the Feds indict your ass and put you away for a very long time!”

“You fucking dare to threaten me? Who do you think you are, prick! Who do you think you are? You are nothing! Do you hear me? You are fucking nothing! Less than nothing. Do you think the clothes you wear make you a man? Well, do you? You are absolutely NOTHING, son of a whore fucked by countless johns, a pathetic adopted bastard! All you will ever be is nothing!” Everyone's mouth drops open including his lawyers'. Taylor's body shifts toward Lincoln ready to attack any moment. 

These lines might have worked on my insecurities a week ago, but not today. I have a wife who is in love with me and we are expecting our child. My parents love me; my sister and brother love me. I am a fucking happy man, who is an orphan no longer. When he sees no change in my face, he gets even more furious. He tries to lunge forward.

“Guess that's all you got," I say calmly. I take a relaxed breath, though I'm anything but. "Lincoln, I’m giving you one and only option that will be offered to you today and the time is now. This get out of jail free clause will never be offered to you again. Ever! If you sign a contract firing yourself from the Lincoln Timber and you will not be turned over to the Feds, the IRS not to mention the investors who put their money and trust in your sticky hands. I will make sure that every penny I make from the sale of each single timber, plywood, land, asset of Lincoln Timber that your grandfather has established, your legacy as you put it is dedicated prosecuting you to the highest extent of law and make sure that you will never see a free day again for the rest of your pathetic life!”

“Mr. Grey, your accusations of Mr. Lincoln is baseless! We’ve come here to fulfill the judge’s request today…” his lawyer starts.

“Shut up Wazowski!” hisses Lincoln without even looking at him. His gaze is locked on me alone. His custom tailored Alexander Amosu suit moves with his body as if he’s born in it. I know his suit alone to be well over $17,000. It’s custom fit, and the fabric is hand selected. I have three similar suits. Amosu’s prices start at £3,500 and his most expensive suite is just under $900,000. Lincoln has probably his most expensive ensemble on him today because he clearly wants to establish his supremacy in every possible way. He wants to look like million bucks, outshine, and outdo me. But that tactic wouldn’t work on me. I can outdo him in my birthday suit.

“Mr. Lincoln, I suggest you sit down sir,” says his second lawyer silently urging him to calm down.

“Get out!” he hisses under his breath.

“What? Sir, we are looking out for your interest here.”

“I said get the fuck out!” he shouts slowly losing his battle to his rage. My presence is tipping his carefully restrained menace.

“Mr. Lincoln! Roger!” says the older attorney. “Think carefully. Speak carefully…” he says in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

“Tom, you have been my attorney and a friend for twenty five years. But right now, I don’t give a shit about either one of that. Get your fucking ass out of this room!” he hisses with pure malice in his voice. He spares his glance at his friend and not even a hair softens in his demeanor.

“This is my oooold ffffrienddddd, aren’t you Christian?” he enunciates slowly, a predatory grin overtakes his lips, showing his large, whitened teeth as his eyes try to exert his will and supremacy on me. In that glance I can see that there’s nearly nothing human on his face. He is finally laying all his cards on the table. “Yes, we go waaay back to a time when he was nothing… Less than nothing, a drunken teenager who slept with another man’s wife to cover his costly addictions who perhaps gave you the alcohol money?” he asks raising his eyebrows.

My gaze trains on him. Rage, fury rises in me. I can strangle this fucker, but that’s exactly what he wants. I won’t give into his will. This is his way of demanding submission from me even in the presence of a roomful of people.

“I don’t doubt one minute that you would also sleep with that woman’s husband as long as your needs were met!” Taylor stiffens, every muscle in his body is trained on Lincoln; barely restraining himself ready to attack, waiting for my command. He looks at me, and my gaze says 'no'.

“Wow! I know that losing to someone in business and in life in every fucking aspect this spectacularly must be killing you,” I enunciate as I rise up like a predator from my seat, “Mr. Lincoln. To someone who is nearly half your age, someone who isn’t even 30… To think that you envied my abilities since I was a teenager in some sick fantasy, seeing my potential to overtake your useless life in an imaginary jealousy is simply unbelievable. You have created your own self-fulfilling prophecy. After all, I AM your superior, your boss, your god, the man who is better in every fucking thing you can ever dream of achieving! I am the man who holds your fate in his hands… Do you really want to cross me, Lincoln?” I hiss in a malicious tone, arching my eyebrows, and take three confident, arrogant, and domineering steps towards him.

“But, I don’t know whether to congratulate you, or sue you in a libel suit and take the $54 million bucks you stole, for making these colorful accusations created in your very vivid imagination, Mr. Lincoln. I am now convinced more than ever that you also need to be locked into a mental institution. We have plenty of witnesses here.”

“You stole my company!” he shouts.

“I bought the company which you made public fifteen years ago. Anyone can buy it! It’s perfectly legal. You, you made it public!” I raise my voice pointing an accusatory finger. “So, in all your years in business, it never occurred to you that someone, someday might come and buy it when you so made it available for purchase? And now you come and make fantastic accusations because I own your ass, lot, stock and barrel! I’m a businessman Mr. Lincoln. I was aware of the fact that one of the companies where I own large stocks, a company that should be doing well is simply was not generating enough return. Then I discover that there are large sums of money being embezzled by none other than you…”

As angry as Lincoln gets, he never mentions paying for Hyde’s bail. It’s the giant shit colored elephant no one talks about. I’m not about to give him the evidence and make him aware of what else I have over his head. But, I have every intention of making him suffer the way he made me suffer by causing harm to my wife and sister! He doesn’t want to incriminate himself here. He has that control and I can see it in every carefully chosen word he utters no matter how impromptu or how personal he may sound. What he wants is to get me riled up, lose my cool, and attack him so that he has something to hold over me both for when we are alone and in public; that's his tactic to get me submit to his provocation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he lay down, remain motionless and let me beat the shit out of him just to get me arrested. I will never give him that satisfaction, or the control. I will beat the shit out of him alright, but in at a time and a place of my own choosing. Not in video feed, and in the sight of many witnesses. He wants revenge, I’ll give him revenge my way.

“I don’t look kindly on being robbed in broad daylight, Mr. Lincoln. I have the money trail. All I have to do is just leak it to Seattle Time, and I can guarantee you that all the investors you’ve had over the years will come to devour you faster than Great White sharks!”

Lincoln grits his teeth so forcefully, everyone can hear the noise. His attorneys are half sitting and half getting up to leave the room for the last three minutes, somehow unable to move from their positions.

“What the fuck do you want after you sold my entire fucking company right under my dick?” he shouts. I grin knowing I got him in the submissive position.

“I want you to fire yourself! The corporate charter states that even the allegation of expense fraud is enough reason for me to fire you. I have proof, not just allegation! I want you to sign the separation agreement. I will have control over where and when you have a job next time. You will agree to all of the breach clauses. Should you breach the agreement my lawyers have drafted, then you agree to the financial penalties without argument or refusal,” I state.

"I thought you were already firing me! Why are you asking me to do it?" he asks.

"I think you know the answer to that Mr. Lincoln," I say with an impassive gaze. I want the pleasure of seeing him end his own career. My revenge.

“If I don’t?” he ask with murderous malice.

“If you don’t, I promise you that you will be back to the jail in short enough time to make it there for dinner…” I remain silent for twenty seconds to let that sink in. “After you sign the papers today, if you ever, ever cross my path, or get involved in anything that would directly or indirectly cause harm to anyone I know,” I say my gaze getting serious, and his with a triumphant glint, “I will not question you, take you to court, or have a civilized meeting like this. Even if you were to dream about causing harm to anyone I know, if they sneeze because you coughed on them, I promise that the day you saw your company sold piece by fucking piece compared to what I will do to you was holiday in the Hamptons.”

“I want to keep my personal assets!” he hisses. “What more do you want? You’ve taken all of my company!”

“For the last time: It was not your company to begin with. Not for the last 15 years. I will promise nothing. You deserve no favors! Your personal assets are monies stolen from what is rightfully mine now. This is non-negotiable. You either take the deal I give you, or I will fucking make sure that every penny earned from your granddaddy’s company is spent on prosecuting you to the fullest extent of the law!”

“I’ll sign. But this isn’t over Grey!” he hisses.

Before I can say, “A threat?” Taylor, blindsides him and hits him under the jaw, and crosses both his arms into a submissive position, slamming him down to the table, making everyone jump except for me and Welch.

“I am Mr. Grey’s bodyguard. Any implied threat is taken seriously, Mr. Lincoln,” Taylor hisses to his ear. “Do you want me to escort this asshole to the sheriff’s deputies, Mr. Grey? The judge already knows his fucking anger management issues and mental instability to making this fucker a menace to society. In light of the recent events, this will not be taken lightly at the court, sir. He can keep his girlfriend Hyde in company.”

“I said I’ll sign!” Lincoln says in a muffled voice, his face pressed down on to the table.

“Let him sign.”

Taylor shoves him, and stands only two feet behind Lincoln. Baxter stands up and gives a copy to Lincoln and a copy each to his lawyers. Lincoln goes over each page, reading, initialing and signing as directed by Baxter. His lawyers sign witnessing his signature. All three of the documents are signed and notarized before witnesses. Check mate!

“Show yourselves out!” I say as I turn on my heels leaving the room with Taylor following behind me.

As Taylor closes the door behind him, he asks, “Where to sir?”

“To the hospital to see Ray.” Taylor nods and presses the call button of the elevator with a rare smile.

Happy 22nd Birthday Rach! 

Next update is on August 13th at night. Thank you for waiting patiently!