Chapter XXIII ← Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

SEPARATION ANXIETY

CHAPTER XXIII

After Anastasia leaves, I call Taylor into my study.

“Yes, sir,” he answers politely.

“Taylor, I want you to find out what airline Miss Steele is going to purchase her airline ticket from. I don’t care how you track it. Whether you track it through her credit card or her laptop...” I say with a fixed gaze and a determined expression.

“I have set up an access for you into her laptop sir. I’m sure I can check on what site she goes and what airline she purchases it from,” he says confidently.

“Great!" I say edgy already. Why does she make it so hard for me to take care of her? She's my woman, damn it! Why shouldn't I take care of her? Why is she so reticent when it comes to accepting my help? I take care of what is mine!
"Once you find out about the airline, get the flight information, reservation number etc. I want you to call the airline and upgrade her ticket to first class, put her by the window seat, and purchase the seat next to hers. I want her to have the extra elbow room,” I say.

Taylor is completely passive, but I catch a small gleam of amusement in his eyes for a second.

“Yes, sir. Anything else sir?”

“Yes, I need you to drive me to work. I have to be at the office for a while today. My assistant was supposed to schedule Claude Bastille for a session. Find out when from Andrea before we go. Once you know when, text me, and pick me up; I need that session today!" I say with exasperation. "I have meetings, but tell Claude to wait. We can work out at my company’s gym, or at Escala depending on the time he’s scheduled. We ought to leave for GEH at around 1:00 p.m.” I say.

“Yes sir. I’ll inform you once I upgrade Miss Steele’s flight,” he says respectfully, nodding.

He’s about to leave my study, but seeing my preoccupied state, he turns to me to ask something.

“Do you want me to track Miss Steele’s phone sir to locate her whereabouts?” I think about it for a second.

“No...” I say hesitantly, but add, “No, she’ll let me know where she interviewed once she’s done with them. There is no point in finding out until she gets the job.”

“Yes sir,” he replies, and leaves my study.

I think of Anastasia, and why she wants to distance herself from me. I’m going to have a hard time in her absence. (← I'll be Missing You by P Diddy, ft. Sting & Faith Evans) Shit! She’s only gone for less than an hour, and I already terribly miss her. I check my e-mails before I head out to work.  There is one from Elena.

_____________________________________________

From: Elena Lincoln
Subject: Dinner?
Date: May 30 2011 10:12
To: Christian Grey

Hello Christian,

Have you had time to check your schedule for our dinner? I haven’t seen you in a while. I’ve missed you. Your new sub sounds very interesting. I’d love to hear about her. Call me. We’ll catch up.

Until I see you,

Elena

_____________________________________________

Come to think of it, since Anastasia is leaving town tomorrow, my schedule would be free tomorrow night, so I could meet Elena for dinner tomorrow night.

 _____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Dinner?
Date: May 30 2011 12:48
To: Elena Lincoln

Elena

My schedule is free tomorrow evening. Shall we say 8:00 p.m. at our usual place?

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________

I hit send. My mind drifts back to Anastasia. I want to talk to Elena about her. Anastasia completely confines me.  She’s such an enigma, such a life force; the thought of losing her it completely scares me. (← DJ Got Us Falling in Love Again by Usher ft. Pitbull) I can talk to Elena about my feelings. She's known me for so long, she might have some insight, and help me sort these uneasy feelings I have for Anastasia.
I’m ready to go to work since I have a meeting with the engineering team. I like to be hands on and in control in everything I do, be it my business acquisitions, or the products that my team is developing. I want to be a part of it, and I will have a say in everything that is done within my company. I'm a man who is always in control; I make all the decisions. I like my autonomy very much. I value it more than anything. I have worked so hard to attain it; in fact in the last seven years, I didn’t have to explain myself to anyone, and did what I desired. I wouldn’t ever want to let that freedom go. But then again, all bets are off when it comes to Anastasia. She disarms me at an alarming rate. It scares the life out of me. I desire her to do so, but then, because it's so out of my norm, I fight against it. This may not be good for my autonomy. Fuck! What a conondrum I'm in!

I don’t know what to name the extreme emotions I’m feeling for her. That’s something I’ve avoided all my adult life. I lose all my reason with her. But in the other hand, she becomes my reason to be...to exist. When she’s around, that’s all I see, all I want, all I want to experience. She’s mine! What if she meets someone in Georgia? Shit! Shit! Shit! She’ll be gone nearly a whole week! If I was taken by her at the first sight, someone else might easily be taken by her. I've never been this close to anyone, at this rate, in such a short span of time. I'm worried... As soon as I get out of the vicinity, some fucker always approaches her. I pace nervously around my study. I need distraction from my worries today. Couple of hours with Claude Bastille should relieve some of my frustration and provide me with much needed distraction.

*
*

I walk into my office, Andrea and the intern rush to their feet. I’ve been missing face time at GEH lately, but I’m ever present via other means due to my “control freakery” as Miss Steele would have put it. I'm the boss again, in charge of my destiny, in charge of what I know. (← Freedom by George Michael)

“The team of engineers and Mr. Barney are in the meeting room sir with their proposals for the prototype,” Andrea informs me.

When I walk into the meeting room, everyone scrambles to their feet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I say by the way of greeting everyone at once.

Barney takes the lead.

“Sir, the engineering team came up with a new interface today, but we wanted to show it to you and get your input,” he says.

“Let’s take a look at it,” I say as we jump into the meeting full swing. There is something still missing. I don't want less than a perfect product. If something is worth doing, it's worth doing perfectly the first time. We brainstorm about how to utilize clean energy while creating a product that functions perfectly, and is sleek. I take their schematics, and give my input. This isn't done yet - not to my complete satisfaction. I'll look over the drawings. Once this meeting is over, I meet Marco for thirty minutes. Then Ros comes for a meeting for the company we’ve discussed liquidating a day earlier to go over the finances once again. I'm all business, all in control, and master of my destiny. I like that. The thought of not being able to see Anastasia gives me an added impatience.

When I leave the office to workout with Claude Bastille, it’s nearly five in the afternoon. Taylor drives me to my usual gym where I meet Claude. I warm up running, lifting weights, and some cardio. Then Claude and I get at each other for an hour...hard. He holds back nothing, and I give him all I got as if my life depends on it. The feeling of Anastasia leaving town weighs heavy on me. Claude Bastille notices my fervor, and extra drive.

“You’re hell on wheels today!” he comments.

“Making up for my missed sessions,” I say with a passive face.

“I don’t know. It seems as if you have this extra oomph,” he says.

“Well, thank you,” I say still passive, “it means a lot coming from you,” I reply.

We bow to each other at the end of our MMA workout.

“Tomorrow at the same time then?” he asks.

“No, better make it earlier. My assistant will call you with the time,” I reply.

“As you wish Grey,” he replies, we shake hands, and I depart for Escala.

First thing I do as I get to my penthouse is to shuck off the sweaty workout clothes and take a shower. I get into my jeans and a t-shirt since I’ll be home for the rest of the evening. When I emerge from my bedroom, Mrs. Jones has set me a place at the breakfast bar.

“What would you like to drink sir?”

“Sancerre please,” I say.

“Yes sir,” she says as she pours me a glass of wine.

After I finish my dinner, I leave to my study to go over the schematics my team of engineers gave me. I still haven’t made up my mind whether it’s met it’s all my requirements yet.

I lay the plans on my desk, and a sudden flash of this morning’s activities flood my mind with Anastasia on this very desk, and my heart constricts missing her. I more than miss her. It’s like as if she took a piece of me with her. I never know what she’s going to say or do. But, as much as it scares me, I love that about her, because it keeps me on my toes.

I don’t want her out of my life, and I have never wanted anything more than I want her. I rack my brain for something I wanted more. I can’t think of anything. No other women - no one even came close to her. I've never desired anyone with the depth and heigh of my soul like I do of her. I've never felt this way for anyone, and I had never been in fear of losing of any one of the women I had been with. If I broke up with one of the other women, there would always be someone else of equal or greater value. I could never think that way about Anastasia. She has no equal, because she locates my missing soul, she fulfills me not just sexually, although God knows that is reason enough, but she becomes my conscience, my reason, my life. 

The depth of the feeling I have for her is beyond anything I imagined – it scares me to my core. Is this good for me to feel that way? Having control in every aspect of my life has been monumentally beneficial for me. Would losing control to a young woman cause me to lose what I’ve acquired over the years? For a brief moment, I try to contemplate a future without her; and all of a sudden I feel as if I’m slowly bleeding to my death by a thousand cuts...excruciatingly painfully. Even the thought of it in the hypothetical hurts me to the core; I can’t breathe! I hold my desk to steady myself. I hear the familiar ding of my e-mail. I look up, and thank God, it’s from Anastasia!

_____________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Interviews
Date: May 30 2011 18:48
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

My interviews went well today.
Thought you might want to know.
How was your day?
Ana

_____________________________________________

I read her simple message over and over again. I steady my breath, and tell myself that she’s only a few miles away, still in town, and that she’s interested in my day, and she’s letting me in to her activities. Relief slowly floods me. I type my response once I have my wits about myself.

_____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: My day
Date: May 30 2011 19:02
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

Everything you do interests me. You are the most fascinating woman I know.
I’m so glad that your interviews went well.
My morning was beyond all expectations.
As for my afternoon, it was extremely dull in comparison.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________

I hit send. Her reply is dings back in two minutes flat.

_____________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Fine Morning
Date: May 30 2011 19:04
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

This morning was exemplary for me as well, despite the fact that you weirded out on me after the impeccable desk sex. Don’t think I didn’t notice.
Thank you for breakfast. Or thank Mrs. Jones for me.
I’d like to ask you a question about her – without you weirding out on me again.
Ana

_____________________________________________

Two things jump out of the page for me: First one is the impeccable sex. What is she comparing it to? She hasn’t had any other partners, has she? She better not! And her interest in Mrs. Jones. Had something passed through between them this morning? What is making her curious about Mrs. Jones?

_____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Publishing and You?
Date: May 30 2011 19:09
To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia

Weirding and weirded are not verbs and should not be used by anyone who wants to go into publishing.
Impeccable sex you say? Compared to what, pray tell? And what do you need to ask about Mrs. Jones? I’m intrigued.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________

I hit send. But she doesn’t reply instantaneously as she normally does.  When it dings again, I feel relief. But the title is bothersome.

_____________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: You and Mrs. Jones
Date: May 30 2011 19:18
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

Language is an organic entity and it evolves and moves on. It’s not stuck in an ivory tower with expensive works of art overlooking most of Seattle with a helipad stuck on its roof.
Impeccable – compared to the other times we have...what’s the word you use...oh yeah... fucked. Actually fucking has been extremely impeccable, period, in my humble opinion. But then again, I have very limited experience in that department as you well know.

Is Mrs. Jones an ex-sub of yours?
Ana

_____________________________________________

I’m shocked in the way she thinks of Mrs. Jones. She’s a respectable woman in every way, one I have not had any relationsip other than a professional one! Of course she’s never been my sub! I’d never employ someone I’ve had sex with. Anastasia would have been the only exception to that, but with the way she’s thinking, I may have to reassess that idea. I hastily type up a response.

_____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Language. Watch your mouth!
Date: May 30 2011 19:23
To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia

Mrs. Jones is a valuable employee. I have never had any relationship with her beyond our professional one. I don’t employ anyone I’ve had any sexual relations with. I’m completely shocked that you would entertain such a thought. You would be the only person I’d make an exception to that rule, because you’re a bright young woman with outstanding negotiation skills. However, if you continue to use such a language, I may have to reconsider that offer. I’m glad you have limited experience. Your experience will continue to be limited, just to me. I shall then take impeccable as a compliment. Although, I never know whether it is a compliment or not when it comes to you – whether it’s your sense of irony as usual.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. From His Ivory Tower

_____________________________________________

I hit send, and wait for her to respond. I’m not happy about her concerns about Mrs. Jones.

_____________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Not for all the Tea in China
Date: May 30 2011 19:28
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

I think I have already expressed my reservations about working for your company. My views on this have not changed, aren’t changing, and won’t change. Ever.  I have to leave you to yourself now since my roomie Kate returned with Chinese food. My sense of irony and I wish you goodnight.

I’ll contact you once I arrive in Georgia.
Ana

_____________________________________________

Her reply makes me smile.
_____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Even for Twinings English Breakfast Tea?
Date: May 30 2011 19:30
To: Anastasia Steele

Goodnight Anastasia.

I hope you and your sense of irony have a safe flight to Georgia. 

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________

Taylor knocks at my study’s door.

“Come in Taylor,” I say.

“Sir, I have acquired Miss Steele’s flight information,” he starts.

“Okay. Did you upgrade her flight?”

“Yes sir. She’s upgraded to first class, and I’ve also purchased the seat next to hers to give her,” he clears his throat involuntarily, and I raise a questioning I eyebrow, “more elbow room,” he says with a completely straight face.

“What seat?”

“Window seat sir and the one next to hers would be empty.”

“What time will she be leaving?”

“Ten-thirty p.m. sir,” he checks his time on his watch. “In, a little over two hours, she should be air bound.” 

“Great! As for tomorrow's schedule,” I say, and go over my work schedule with him. I’m edgy, and irritated for some reason. I realize I’m shaking my legs in a nervous gesture.

Taylor must have realized it. He coolly asks, “I will be going down to the gym to work out sir. Will you be working out this evening? I was thinking of practicing some MMA. If you’d like, we can pair up and work out together. If you have to work this evening and won’t need me for a couple of hours, I’ll go and work out at the gym sir,” he says tactfully.

“I’ll join you at the gym. I’ll see you in ten,” I say dismissing him.

“Yes, sir,” he says and walks out of my study.

*

Over an hour later, we come back to my penthouse, worked out, my muscles slightly sore with the exertions of the demanding MMA moves. I take a shower, and get dressed, and get back to my study. There is a ton of work I have to get through, not to mention the schematics the engineering team has provided. I run my hands through my wet hair wishing it was Miss Steele doing it. Speaking of the devil, my e-mail dings in that familiar sound, and it is Miss Steele.

_____________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Over-Extravagant Gestures
Date: May 30 2011 21:52
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

I’m alarmed that you knew which flight I was on and I’m not the one who provided you with that information.

You know your stalking has no bounds. Let’s just hope that Dr. Flynn is back from his vacation.
I’ve had a manicure, a back massage, and two glasses of champagne which provided a very nice start to my vacation.

And I have you to thank for.
Ana

_____________________________________________

She’s a little upset, but teasing, and she is thankful; though with Anastasia it’s hard to tell which way is up. She got a massage... I don’t know if I like that. Massage huh? What sort of massage? Who was giving her the massage?

_____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: You’re most welcome
Date: May 30 2011 21:58
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele,

Dr. Flynn is back from his vacation; in fact I have an appointment to see him this week.
Who was massaging your back? 

Christian Grey
CEO with friends in the right places, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________

I hit send, and wait for her to respond. 20 minutes passes by, and no reply comes back from her. Is she back for more massage? Christ! How long does it take to get a massage at an airport?

_____________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Strong Able Hands
Date: May 30 2011 22:23
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir,

A sweet and pleasant young man massaged my back. Yes, it was very pleasant indeed. I have you to thank for my encounter with Jean-Paul without which I wouldn’t have met him in the ordinary departure lounge. So, thank you once again. I’m not sure if I’ll be allowed to e-mail once we take off, and I shall need my beauty sleep as I haven’t been sleeping so well lately.

Ana

_____________________________________________

What the fuck? What is she trying to do to me? Make me instantaneously combust with jealousy? Well, she’s succeeded. Oh baby, I’ll give you that for the time being, but wait till I get my hands on you again! I know what I’d do that smart mouth of yours.

_____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Enjoy it while you can
Date: May 30 2011 22:26
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele,

I know what you’re trying to do, and trust me when I say this, you’ve succeeded in accomplishing it-you made me beyond jealous. Since that’s the case, next time you’ll travel in the cargo hold, bound and gagged and in a crate. Believe me when I say that attending to you in that state will give me a lot more pleasure than just merely upgrading your ticket to first class.

I shall look forward to your return. 

Christian Grey
Palm twitching CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________

Put that in your pipe and smoke it Miss Steele! So, you want to make me jealous! I probably won’t hear from her until she lands, but, I’m a patient man at this moment. I’ll wait. But in four minutes my e-mail dings again? What the hell? Is she e-mailing me during flight and risking her life along with the lives of other passengers?

_____________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Joking
Date: May 30 2011 22:30
To: Christian Grey

Christian, you see, I’ve no idea if you’re joking or serious. And if you are serious, then I think I’ll stay in Georgia. Crates are a hard limit for me. I’m sorry I’ve made you mad. Tell me you forgive me.

Ana

_____________________________________________

Oh, I am furious with her for her writing in the airplane! Does she not value her own life at all? Why is she on a mission to make me anxious?

_____________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Joking
Date: May 30 2011 22:31
To: Anastasia Steele

How could you be emailing me? Are you risking your own life as well as the lives of everyone else on board by using your Blackberry? This action contravenes one of the rules. 

Christian Grey
Two Palms twitching CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_____________________________________________

I hit send hastily. I have already been anxious with her departure, and her disregard to her own safety raises my anxiety levels several notches. Woman; you better not be writing me until your feet firmly touches the ground in Georgia! I pace around my study while occasionally keeping an eye on my e-mail box for the next two whole hours, almost daring the inanimate object to spew an e-mail message from Anastasia. Like a standoff between man and the machine.  And finally when no message arrives from her, I give a sigh of relief. She puts me on edge, makes me lose my reason even at a distance by behaving the way she does, worrying me! I don’t do well with worry! It’s not an emotion I’m familiar with.

Only when my anxiety subsides I can make my way to bed. Fuck! What am I, a three year old? Why do I have this separation anxiety then? My heart aches knowing she’s on her way halfway across the country. I go to my bed to an uneasy sleep clouded with worrisome dreams of Anastasia. (← I can't Live Without You by Mariah Carey)

Chapter XXII ← Christian and Anastasia Fanfiction

IT’S HARD TO SAY GOODBYE

CHAPTER XXII

I wake up with Anastasia trashing in my arms.

“No!” she moans in her sleep. “No! Don’t go Christian!” she mumbles. (← Love Story by Taylor Swift)

“Hey, hey...” I say rubbing her hair, trying to calm her down. She relaxes under my touch. It’s dark. I can see the city lights from my uncovered windows.  I find my arms and legs are draped around Anastasia, claiming her even in my sleep.

“Don’t go please! I'm scared. Christian I love you...” she moans, shuddering in her sleep. I kiss her hair, closing my eyes. It’s the best sound I’ve heard since she said that for the first time yesterday in her sleep.  But yet, I'm scared to hear that. Daunted to my core. Thank God, she's asleep. I don't think I can handle this if she was awake. I can't be loved. I shouldn't be loved. I'm tained. Fucked up. Dirty. Unworthy...

“I can’t...” she says with an intake of a shuddering breath, her arm extending to an unseen person in the dark.

“Baby...” I whisper into her ear, “I’m not going anywhere...” I say trying to reassure her. “Don’t you leave me! I need you...” I whisper. She sighs in her sleep. She sighs. "Never..." she says before drifting off.

"Never what?" I think to myself.

"Never what baby?"

“I'll never leave you Christian,” she mutters barely audible, but that single sentence gives me the biggest peace, best reassurance I’ve ever had in my entire life. Knowledge of the fact that she wants me, and she won’t leave me comforts me, relaxes me as if a ton of load has been lifted off of my shoulders. I’m in awe of this woman who takes me by surprise even in her sleep.  My clock reads 5:16 a.m. I could get up and work out since I have a long day ahead of me. I gaze at her sleeping. I could watch her for hours. She loves me! Me! I'm beyond elated. I would love to hear that from her. No! I don't want to hear it from her. I’m too scared of the idea. I’m not worthy of her...or of her love. I’m one fucked-up son-of-a-crack-whore! I’m worthy of nothing. Certainly not the likes of her, but I'm a selfish man who now desires to have this angel I'm holding in my arms. How did I get so lucky to have her? I move uneasily. I pull my arms away from around her.  I need to go to work out. I want to keep watching her in her now peaceful slumber. But when I move my arms away from her, her body shifts and turns to me, seeking me in the dark. She’s drawn to me too! What a comfort it is to know that! Everything she does pull at my heart  strings!

I slowly move away from the bed. I stand by the bed, gazing down at her in the semi darkness with the only illumination coming from the city peering in through my large windows. She’s beautiful. Enchanting. Captivating. I go to my closet and put my workout sweats on. I go by the bed, and peek at Anastasia one last time before I leave for the gym.

When I get downstairs to workout, Taylor is already there. He eyes me warily, and notices my calm demeanor, and continues his workout by acknowledging my presence.

“Good morning sir,” he says politely. I nod as a response. “Morning.”

We work out over an hour. I run, lift weights, row, and swim. We get back to my penthouse. I take my shower. Put on my black pants and white shirt. I walk into the kitchen. Mrs. Jones is already busy in the kitchen.

“Would you like your breakfast right now sir?”

“Not right now Mrs. Jones. I’m going to work a little. You know Miss Anastasia Steele is here as I briefed you earlier. She would prefer Twinings English tea in the morning as opposed to coffee. I’ll have some coffee now.”

“Certainly sir. I can make her tea once she wakes up. I have your coffee ready sir,” she says handing me a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Thank you Mrs. Jones,” I say as I take my coffee.

“If Miss Steele asks, I’ll be in my office working,” I say.

“Yes sir,” she responds politely.

I walk to my study, and Taylor is present to be briefed for the day’s activities. We go over the schedule, and he goes back to his office. I open and check my e-mails. There’s a message from my right hand Ros about a company we’re debating between keeping and liquidating. She sent me the Profit & Loss ledgers, and it’s pitiful. I call her up to discuss it further.

“Mr. Grey,” she says by the way of greeting.

“Ros, what’s up with the P&L of the company we’ve acquired last year? Why are the earnings down for the fourth quarter in a row?”

“It’s the economy sir. She was already doing poorly, and since the time we’ve acquired her, she’s shown slight improvement, but not enough to recover from the losses.”

“I see the ‘slight improvement’ you’re talking about. It’s fucking not enough! The company is a dead weight! Unless it’s P&L improves, I’m not interested keeping it, Ros. We’re not carrying dead weight...” I say.

“I suggest we implement some changes, and perhaps replace the CFO. I have someone in mind that might be able to pull it up by the boot straps. But, I don’t know it that will be enough. It might cost us some money...” she says, as I interrupt her.

“Look, I don’t need any more lame excuses. It’s costing us too much money. Have Marco call me, it’s shit or bust time...”

“Yes, sir. Also, Barney wanted to know what you thought of the prototype, or if you have any suggestions for an improvement.”

“Yes, tell Barney that the prototype looks good, though I’m not sure about the interface...”

“Do you not like the interface? It comes with high recommendations of our engineers,” she says.

“”No, it’s just missing something... In fact, him and his team, we can brainstorm...”

“That’s actually a very good idea. You know I’m not very technical, but you can convey your concerns to the engineering team. If there’s nothing else, Andrea can schedule the meeting for this afternoon.”

“Okay. Transfer me back to Andrea...” I say.

I feel a gaze on me. Anastasia's gaze. The palpable electric. She’s here, in the room. I glance up, and see her. Seeing her brings up a slow, sexy smile up on my face. She looks at me, speechless. She takes in a shaky breath, as if she left her sanity outside the door. I continue my conversation with Andrea, but my eyes fixed on Anastasia, never leaving hers. This is the sight that makes me feel completely alive... (← I’m Alive by Celine Dion)

“Andrea. Clear my schedule this morning, but get Bill to call me. I’ll be in at two. I need to talk to Marco this afternoon, that will need at least half an hour...”

“Barney was seeking to be scheduled in sir. When would you like to see him?” says Andrea.

“Schedule Barney and his team in after Marco, or maybe tomorrow, and find time for me to see Claude every day this week...”

“When would you like to see Dr. Flynn sir?”

“Tell him to wait... I’ll confirm that later.”

“About the shipment to the Darfur. Would you like any publicity for it sir?”

“Oh... No, I don’t want publicity for Darfur...” I say.

“Sam says that there may be some issues with the shipment drop sir.”

“Tell Sam to deal with it...” I say irritated. Do I have to think of everything?

“Are you aware of an upcoming event you’re invited sir?”

“No... Which event?”

“It’s a ball given by the American Shipbuilders Association next Saturday.”

“You said next Saturday?... Hold on.” I say.

“When will you be back from Georgia?” I ask Anastasia.

“Friday,” she responds.

“I’ll need an extra ticket because I have a date...” I say.

“I beg your pardon sir? Did you say you have a date?”

“Yes Andrea, that’s what I said, a date, Miss Anastasia Steele will accompany me.”

“I apologize sir. I couldn’t hear you well. Anything else sir?”

“That’s all,” I say hanging up. My eyes never left Anastasia.

“Good morning Miss Steele.”

“Mr. Grey,” she says shyly.

She’s frozen in her place. I walk around my desk and stand in front of her. I gently stroke her cheek with the back of my fingers.

“I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful. Did you sleep well?”

“I am very well-rested, thank you. I just came to say hi before I had a shower,” she says. She gazes up at me, drinking me in. I lean down and kiss her gently. At that instant, she throws her arms around my neck, and her fingers twisting in my still damp hair. She pushes her body flush against mine, and she kisses me back fervently, passionately. She wants me...right now. Her attack takes me by surprise, but, it’s also a welcome one. After a beat, I respond, a low groan in my throat. My hands slip into her hair, and down to her back, cupping her naked behind while my tongue exploring her mouth. I pull back, my eyes are hooded.

“Well, Anastasia, sleep seems to agree with you,” I murmur.

“I suggest you go and have your shower, or I will lay you across my desk now,” I say.

“I choose the desk,” she whispers desirously. I stare at her bewildered for a tiny second.

“You’ve really got a taste for this, haven’t you Miss Steele? You’re becoming insatiable,” I murmur.

“I’ve only got a taste for you,” she whispers, completely disarming me. My eyes widen and darken with desire while my hands knead her naked backside.

“Damn right, only me,” I growl at my woman, and suddenly with one fluid movement, I swipe my arm on my desk scattering all the contents – plans and papers off my desk dropping them onto the floor. I sweep her up in my arms, and lay her down across the short end of the desk.

“You want it, you got it, baby,” I mutter, taking out a foil from my pants’ pocket while unzipping my pants. I roll the condom down on to my length and gaze down at her.

“I sure hope you are ready,” I breathe with a salacious smile. In that instant, I enter her, filling her while holding her wrists tightly by her side, and I start thrusting into her deeply. She groans with pleasure. She’s so wet already.

“Christ, Ana! You’re so ready,” I whisper with admiration.

She wraps her legs around my waist, and hold onto me that way, as I stand staring down at her, my eyes glowing with passion and possessiveness of this woman. She’s mine, and she wants me to claim her again. It pleases me. I start to move, and pick up momentum. I fuck her deep, and hard, and she groans with pleasure. It’s pure lust, pure possession, pure carnal desire...and something else beneath all of that thick exterior. Something coming from my core. I move, and move, reveling in the feeling of my woman. My lips are parted and my breathing increases as I get close to my peak. I twist my hips, gyrating and I see that she too is enjoying the feeling of fullness well.

She closes her eyes, and arches her back for me as her peak is also approaching. My thrusts are increases, and she moans loudly with sensation taking over her body. I thrust faster and harder in a rapid rhythm. Her whole body is moving along with my movements and I feel her legs stiffening around me as she’s trying to hold onto the feeling.

“Come on, baby, give it up for me,” I coax her through gritted teeth, and the need in me sends her over the edge. She cries out as she reaches her climax, and I slam into her as I reach my climax, and finally at my peak I pull at her wrists and sink wordlessly onto her. I’m completely taken by her. She sweeps me off and I lose my reason. She changes my plans. I lose control. When I’m near her, I want nothing but her! (←Fireworks by Kathy Perry)

“What the hell are you doing to me Ana?” I breathe as I nuzzle her neck. “You completely beguile me. You weave some powerful magic.”

I release her wrists, and she runs her fingers through my hair as she tightens her legs around me.

“I’m the one who is beguiled Christian,” she whispers. I look up to her perplexed, alarmed. I am torn. I look up at her, gazing. All of a sudden I have this flood of emotions of love for her, and it scares me! I'm not familiar with it! I don't know how to handle it! This is not okay. Not for me... I cannot love! She’s too innocent, and I don’t want her to get hurt by me. But I fucking want her. The selfish side of me says that she is mine in every sense of the word. I place my hands on both sides of her face and hold her head in place.

“You. Are. Mine!” I say with each word staccato. “Do you understand?” I say most ardently like a zealot. But it’s also my plea to her. I want her to remain mine. Not go away. Not to leave me. The feeling I have for her is ripping my heart apart right now. I'm completely torn between what I know, what is safe, and what my heart desires...

“Yes, yours,” she whispers returning my gaze. How can I handle being away from her nearly a week?

“Are you sure you have to go to Georgia?” I ask her. She nods slowly. I don’t want to push her and make her run away from me. I close my emotions, and push them down; bringing forth my impassive face which took me years to master. Abruptly I withdraw from her, and she winces.

“Are you sore?” I ask leaning over her concerned.

“A little,” she confesses. I smile; that’s good. I made her that way, and I’ve claimed her. That’s where I’ve been. She’d do well to remember that.

“I like you sore,” I say with passion in my eyes. “Reminds you where I’ve been, and only me,” I say with smoldering desire. Will I ever get enough of her?

I grab her chin and kiss her roughly, then stand up, hold my hand out to her to help her out. She glances at the ripped condom packet beside her and murmurs, “Always prepared.” I stare at the empty packet she’s holding in her hands.

“A man can hope, Anastasia, dream even, and sometimes his dreams come true.” She looks confused. I am a man who didn’t even have humble beginnings. From the second I was conceived, I was fucked-up. A birth mother who was a crack whore, a father who was one of her clients most likely, and the constant abuse by her pimps, and she was too wrapped in her own sorrows to be a real mother. On top of that she killed herself leaving me to tend for myself for four days with her dead body only to be found by her pimp and to be kicked around! Until Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey in her angelic white doctor’s smock decided to adopt me... Even then, I was unworthy of that perfect family. Unworthy of their love and affection, unworthy of what they bestowed upon me. I had nothing to offer. There was one direction for me to go, and it was down...to hell in a hand basket. How could a tainted child fits in a class of angels? Whatever I did wouldn’t be good enough to reach them.

I dreamed to reach up to that status...to fit among them somehow. (←Dream On by Aerosmith)  I tried  exceptionally hard. Worked even harder. Learned all I can. Fought my hardest to get to where I am. I remained focused, controlled and in control. Somehow with an unknown grace I’m undeserving of, I am here...in the presence of this angelic woman who has feelings for me. The fear that she might be taken away from me is immense. That somehow I might make her run away from me is more than unbearable. I shut down in order to shut the fears down.

“So, on your desk, that’s been a dream?” she asks dryly with humor. I smile an enigmatic smile which only remains upon my lips without touching my eyes. Of course this isn’t the first time I’ve had sex on my desk. I’ve had it numerous times. But with Anastasia it’s different. Because she’s different. Her face changes with my expression. She becomes uncomfortable, jealous even.

“I’d better go and have a shower,” she says standing and trying to make a move to get past me. I don’t want her to run away from me. It’s unbearable. I frown and run my hand through my hair in exasperation. But I need to be away from her pull.

“I’ve got a couple more calls to make. I’ll join you for breakfast once you’re done with your shower. I think Mrs. Jones has laundered your clothes from yesterday. They’re in the closet,” I say to her. She looks surprised.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“You’re most welcome,” I say, my reply automatic. She gives me a strange look.

“What?” I ask in reply to her frown.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. How does she do that?

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well... you’re being more weird than usual.”

“You find me weird?” I ask trying to suppress a smile. She blushes of course.

“Sometimes,” she replies. I look at her speculatively.

“As ever, I’m surprised by you, Miss Steele,” I say. She does things like the unexpected treat of desk sex, or reprimands me in her own way.

“Surprised how?” she asks me.

“Let’s just say that was an unexpected treat.”

“We aim to please, Mr. Grey,” she says giving me back my own words, cocking her head to side.

“And please me you do,” I say. I get flooded with that emotion again, and it makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to it. Because it makes me lose control. Lose my reason. With her proximity...I don’t want to lose control to this emotion brewing inside me. It’s unsettling.

“I thought you were going to have a shower,” I say trying to send her off, to block this emotion flooding through.

“Yes...  um, I’ll see you in a moment,” she says and leaves my study confused, sort of upset.

When she leaves my study, I sink back into my chair. Hold my head between my hands trying to reel myself in, to here and now to gather my senses, and my wits about. She completely disarms me. But it’s not only that. I respond to her in such a way that it’s like a planet being pulled into the sun’s orbit. I see nothing else but her. I exist nowhere else but with her. The only way to briefly escape this captivation is to have a little distance from her. But when I put the distance between us, I ache for her. It’s my conundrum. I shake my head, try to busy myself with something else. I pick up the plans I tossed on to the floor. I put extra attention to my task.

I finally get back to my phone calls to sort this afternoon’s work schedule. I write notes for the afternoon’s brainstorming session for the prototype we’re designing. Before I know it, nearly thirty minutes have passed since Anastasia left my study. She must be done with her shower by now, and ready to eat her breakfast.  

I come down from my study to the kitchen and I hear Mrs. Jones asking Anastasia if she’d like her tea now. She responds “Please,” to Mrs. Jones.

“Would you like something to eat?” Mrs. Jones asks.

“No, thank you,” Anastasia responds to my displeasure.

“Of course you’ll have something to eat,” I snap, glowering as I walk into the kitchen area. “She likes pancakes, bacon, and eggs, Mrs. Jones,” I say.

“Yes Mr. Grey. What would you like sir?” she asks me.

“Omelet please, and some fruit,” I reply while my gaze is fixed on Anastasia. I’m in her pull again, within her orbit. “Sit,” I order her pointing to one of the bar stools.

She sits, and I take the seat next to hers.

I lean and whisper, “Have you purchased your airline ticket?”

“No, I’ll buy it when I get home online,” she responds. If she waited that long, perhaps she doesn't have the money necessary to purchase to which my heart wrenches. Why didn't I think of that before?

I lean in a little more and I want to ask her if she needs money for the ticket. But knowing how she is with receiving gifts, I am running out of options for a way to ask her. I rub my chin in contemplation.

“Do you have the money for the ticket?” I ask finally.

“Yes,” she says with a mock patience as if she’s talking to an annoying toddler. I raise a reprimanding eyebrow at her, and she immediately amends herself.

“Yes, I do. Thank you.”

But, I don’t want her to travel in coach if I can help it. I have a jet she can use. I’d do just about anything for her; put everything I own at her feet...if she only knew.

“I have a jet,” I say by the way of introduction to what I want to say. “It’s not scheduled to be used for three days; it’s at your disposal should you wish it.”

She gapes at me in response. A flicker of emotions passes through her face. Anger, surprise, amusement, shock. Finally she manages to suppress all of them, and says, “We’ve already made serious misuse of your company’s aviation fleet. I wouldn’t want to do it again.”

I feel hurt with her rejection. I can do whatever I want with what I have. That’s the point of having the company all to myself. I worked so hard to do as I wish, not so that I end up answering to others.

“It’s my company, it’s my jet,” I say without being able to keep the hurt out of my voice. Why is she always refusing my efforts to take care of her?

“Thank you for the offer. But, I’d be much happier taking a regular scheduled flight.” I narrow my eyes, but I want to also pick my battles carefully with her. I’m trying not to be overbearing. So, I say nothing further on the subject. Maybe I can upgrade her flight at least.

“As you wish then,” I say sighing. “Do you have to prepare for your interview today?” I ask for a change of topic.

“No.” she responds.

“Great. Are you still not going to tell me which publishing houses you’re interviewing for?” I ask.

“Nope,” she replies with a smile.

My lips curl up into a smile as a response to her. I can still find out.

“I’m a man of means Miss Steele,” I say to that effect.

“I’m fully aware of that Mr. Grey. Are you going to track my phone again?” she asks me with a completely innocent face.

“As a matter of fact, I’ll be quite busy this afternoon, so I’ll have to get someone else to do it for me,” I say smirking. She thinks I’m joking, but in a lot of matters where it concerns Anastasia, I don’t joke around.

“If you can spare someone to do that, you’re obviously overstaffed Sir,” she states serenely.

“In that case, I’ll just send an e-mail to the head of human resources and have her check into our head count,” I say trying to suppress a smile.

After we’re served breakfast, Mrs. Jones leaves to give us some privacy. Anastasia finally peaks up at me wanting to ask me something but not knowing how to approach the topic. I can’t take the suspense anymore.

“What is it Anastasia?” I ask.

“You know, you never did tell me why you don’t like to be touched.” Oh, that. I blanche, because it’s a topic I try to avoid at all cost. She looks away worried.

“I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anybody Anastasia,” I respond quietly. My gaze is impassive, I’m anything but. I don’t like to talk about those issues, because it brings up a time where I was helpless, and had no control on what happened to me, or around me. I’m too far away from that time now, and I don’t want to refresh those horrible memories up again which often visit me at night in my dreams.

She finally shakes her head  as if to clear it from the thoughts she’s having.

“Will you think about our arrangement while you’re away?” I ask.

“Yes,” she responds honestly. She gazes at me. Those eyes... I’m lost in them.

“Will you miss me?” I ask wanting so much for her to want me as much as I want her.

She gazes back at me again surprised by my question. Why is she surprised that I desire her to miss me, or that I want to know whether she would miss me...really, truly miss me, as I would miss her.

“Yes,” she answers, and I see nothing but the truth in her answer. Relief completely washes over me.

“I’ll miss you too,” I respond to her answer without even realizing. “More than you know,” I breathe. I’ll have a hard time bearing to be apart from her. Her gaze warms with my response. I want her to see how hard I’m trying to meet her halfway, more than halfway. I stroke her cheek, and bend down and kiss her softly.

I don’t want to let her go, but she needs to get to her apartment to book her flight, and get ready for her interviews, and pack up to leave tomorrow. I’m going to miss her so much. I hold and kiss her long and hard.

“Anastasia, I want you to take your MacBook, and your Blackberry with you. And this is not a request,” I say fervently. I can't bear of not being in touch with her for that lenght of time. If she is not here, I have to have something tangible, reachable, at least to hear her voice, or read her words.

“Okay,” she says without an argument which pleases me.

“I need to be able to keep in touch with you...at all times,” I say. It’s not just my need to control her, or just the proprietorship, though those feelings are ever present. I need to fulfill the feeling of connection with her. I can’t bear to have it severed even for a few days. The thought of it is too painful.

She finally picks her things up to leave, and she’s saying goodbye to me here.

“I’ll walk you down to your car,” I say.

“You don’t have to do that Christian,” she says making me frown.

“I’m not doing it because I have to, I’m doing it because I want to,” I reply. Geez! Can’t I even walk my woman to her car? I take her hand as the elevator door dings open. I’m lost in thoughts of her. What if she is going away to put a distance between us. Not just a physical distance, but also an emotional distance, to look for other romantic possibilities. The thought is killing me. I am going to miss her so much. I’m already feeling it though space between us is less than a few inches.

All of a sudden I have this enormous desire for her, and pull her into my arms, capture her face between my hands “I’m going to miss you,” I say fervently. (←It’s Now or Never by Elvis Presley)  Her eyes widen with my declaration, but she reaches up and touches my face as I close my eyes to lose myself in it, and she captures my lips raising herself on her toes, and I respond with a groan and dip down and kiss her, our tongues twirling, mixing while left hand holding her at the nape of her neck, my right hand captures her ass and I push her into me making her feel my erection.

“I’m going to miss you... miss this,” I say into her lips, and she moans.

The elevator dings opens, and I take her hand into mine, gaze at her once more, and walk her to her car. How will I make thought the week without her? Distraction... Flying, or sailing though nothing will be as good as if she was here... I look at her with longing again. "Come back soon..." I wishiper.

"I will..." she says and smiles.