BOOK III - Chapter XX - Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks--is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.

In a Dark Time by Theodore Roethke

ASPEN

CHAPTER XX

Anastasia looks very surprised. “I thought you were born here in Seattle,” she murmurs. I raise my arm and cover my face. My mind is completely jumbled with various scenarios of what that link would be in Detroit. The fucker is into rough sex, and bondage. Are we related? I hope to God we’re not! I reach behind me and grab one of the pillows and place it under my head. I watch Anastasia with wary eyes. She’s looking at me expectantly. She wants to know. She’s my wife; she needs to know that much.

“No. Elliot and I were both adopted in Detroit. We moved here shortly after my adoption. Grace wanted to be on the west coast, away from the urban sprawl, and she got a job at Northwest Hospital. I have very little memory of that time. Mia was adopted here,” I explain. And that’s the crux of it. I have memory of a lot of shit before my adoption. I remember a lot after the adoption, but there’s a time that’s bleak, completely desolate that is a blank canvas in my head. I don’t remember the fucker. He seems to know me, and that’s driving me insane! That means I’m missing some memory where that fucker was a part of my life even for a short period of time. He couldn't have been my brother. I know that much of his history; that he had a mother and a father.

“So Jack is from Detroit?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I ran a background check when you went to work for him.”

Her lips twitch. “Do you have a manila file on him, too?” she asks, smirking.

I purse my mouth to hide my amusement. “I think it’s pale blue.” I continue to run my fingers through her hair in a soothing pattern.

“What does it say in his file?” she asks.

I blink to hide my discomfort. I reach down and stroke her cheek. “You really want to know?” I ask.

“Is it that bad?”

I shrug. It’s bad, but when I was training and learning in sex clubs, I’ve seen much worse, some of which were downright cruel. I’m cut from the same cloth as this fucker, too.  “I’ve known worse,” I whisper. She says nothing. Just curls around me and her arms hold me tighter. She pulls the sheet over me, and places her cheek against my chest.

“What?” I ask. Is she scared?

“Nothing,” she murmurs, frustrating me. Again, she's hiding something from me.

“No, no. This works both ways, Ana. What is it?”

This time she lifts her head up. She assesses my alarmed expression. Then she lowers her head, and puts her cheek on my chest again. She takes a deep breath, having decided to speak, she says, “Sometimes I picture you as a child... before you came to live with the Greys.”

That confession stiffens me immediately. I don’t want my wife to like me, love me or fuck me out of pity. “I wasn’t talking about me. I don’t want your pity, Anastasia. That part of my life is done. Gone.”

“It’s not pity,” Anastasia whispers fervently, completely disheartened. “It’s sympathy and sorrow... Sorrow that anyone could do that to a child.” She stops and takes a deep breath. She starts again resolutely, trying to steady her voice to not to cry. “That part of your life is not done, Christian... How can you even say that? You live every day with your past. You told me yourself...Fifty Shades, remember?” she utters, her voice is just a breath.

I snort in response, exasperated. She’s right of course, but I hate it that she pities me, even if it is a minuscule amount. I don’t want anyone’s pity, least of all hers! My free hand runs through my hair. I can’t speak to voice my feeling that’s blocking my throat, suffocating me. My muscles remain tense, and wound up tighter than a guitar string.

Gladiator - Now We are Free

“I know it’s why you feel the need to control me. Keep me safe.”

“And yet you choose to defy me,” I say completely confounded. My hand stills in her hair. She stills with realization. There’s a pregnant, thinking silence between us. She sighs and finally speaks after what seems like minutes.

“Dr. Flynn said I should give you benefit of the doubt. I think I do... I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s my way of bringing you into the here and now... away from your past,” she whispers. “I don’t know.  I just can’t seem to get a handle on how far you’ll overreact.”

What? Flynn recommended her to defy me to bring me into here and now? “Fucking Flynn,” I mutter. Leave it to him to guide Anastasia in that direction.

“He said I should continue to behave the way I’ve always behaved with you.”

“Did he now?” I say dryly.

Anastasia takes a deep breath, and that’s her body’s cue that she’s going to reveal something... Something I should brace for. “Christian, I know you loved your mom, and you couldn't save her. It wasn’t your job to do that. But I’m not her.”

Her declaration stabs me in the heart. She reaches into the darkest parts of my soul, and brings out things that I’ve buried a million years ago which I wish to remain buried, and it scares me to my core.

“Don’t,” is all I can whisper.

“No, listen. Please,” she says raising her head, she stares into my eyes intently. I’m petrified, frozen. Unable to speak, or move. I don’t want that buried shit to come to surface. I don’t want to remember the time where I had no control over what was done to me, or to her...the crack whore who mothered me. “I’m not her. I’m much stronger than she was. I have you, and you’re so much stronger now, and I know you love me. I love you, too,” she whispers with determination in her eyes.

It’s not pity? She still loves me? Or does she? My brow creases with this disclosure. “Do you still love me?” I ask.

“Of course I do. Christian, I will always love you. No matter what you do to me,” she replies with nothing but reassurance in her gaze. I exhale a breath I have been holding for what seems like ages. I close my eyes and cover them with my arm again, but this time, I hold my wife even closer to me. Relief floods me that she still loves me despite the fact that I have punished her.

“Don’t hide from me,” she whispers and pulls my arm away from my face. “ You've spent your life hiding. Please don’t, not from me.”

I don’t know if I was hiding. I hid what I had in my past. I frown. “Hiding?”

“Yes.”

I shift suddenly and roll over onto my side, and move her so she’s lying beside me on the bed. I turn and reach up to her head and smooth her hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“You asked me earlier today if I hated you. I didn't understand why, and now....” I stop. She thinks I equate her with the crack whore. She is nothing like the crack whore. She’s my life! She must hate me for it knowing how I feel about the crack whore! Oh God! That might have been why she safe worded me, thinking I hated her.

“You still think I hate you?” she asks incredulous.

“No,” I reply shaking my head. “Not now.” I feel relief knowing that she does love me. “But I need to know... why did you safe word, Ana?”

She swallows. “Because...because you were so angry and distant and cold. I didn't know how far you’d go,” she says in one breath. I didn't know how far I would go either. And I don’t know if I could manage to stop. My face is impassive, but there’s a tornado in my soul. I love her so, and yet, she is the one I end up hurting, because she fucking defies me at every turn!

“Were you going to let me come?” she asks in a barely audible voice. She blushes to her hairline, but stares at me unblinking, trying not to miss anything. I always have to be truthful to her.

Roberta Flack - Killing Me Softly

“No,” I reply finally.

“That’s...harsh,” she says disappointed.

I graze her cheek with my knuckle. “Yet effective,” I murmur. I gaze down at her, and see the girl I fell in love with. The woman who loves me despite all the shades of my flaws, and all my fucked up shit. She tries me more than anyone ever tried me, and pisses me off to the point of madness, but I can trust her to set me straight. “I’m glad you did,” I confess.

“Really?” she asks confused.

I wanted to teach her a lesson so far as she understood how she makes me feel, but I don’t want to hurt my wife. It's the last thing I want to do! I just want her to make an effort to put herself in my shoes. It’s not easy to be me. A sad smile creeps up on my lips. “Yes. I don’t want to hurt you. I got carried away,” I say as I lean down to kiss her. “Lost in the moment,” and I place another kiss on her lips. “Happens a lot with you.”

She grins wide in response, and her joy makes me grin too.

“I don’t know why you’re grinning, Mrs. Grey.”

“Me neither.”

Oh, baby, I love you so! I wrap her in my arms, and place my head on her chest, on her soft breasts. Listening to her steady heartbeat gives me immense comfort, relaxing me. Her hand reaches my back and strokes it rhythmically. Her other hand is tangled inside my hair, softly stroking and, soothing me. I sigh with the love she’s showing me, relaxing.

“It means I can trust you...to stop me. I never want to hurt you. I need...” I murmur and stop. Can I tell her that? Can I tell her my dependence on control? That I can’t live without it?

“You need what?” she probes.

“I need control, Ana. Like I need you. It’s the only way I can function. I can’t let go of it. I can’t... I’ve tried... And yet, with you...” I have no power, no control, and my life gets to be chaotic. She won’t let me take care of her, or protect her. Does she not understand that I value her more than my own life that she constitutes my safe place? Without her, I’m nothing. If I lose her, I have nothing left. That’s why I’m overly protective of her. She’s the sole person, a singular point in the universe in which I feel whole, loved, and in love. She’s the essence of my existence. How can I not protect her?

She swallows.

“I need you, too,” she whispers, hugging me tighter. “I’ll try, Christian. I’ll try to be more considerate.”

Here it goes. “I want you to need me,” I murmur.

“I do!” she says fervently with a fierce tone.

“I want to look after you.”

“You do. All the time. I missed you so much while you were away,” she says.

“You did?” I ask completely surprised. If she missed me and misses me in my absence, why won’t she come with me?

“Yes, of course. I hate you going away,” she says making me smile.

“You could have come with me.”

“Christian, please. Let’s not rehash that argument. I want to work.”

I sigh. Pick your battles Grey! I remind myself. I run my fingers through her hair.

“I love you, Ana.”

“I love you, too, Christian. I will always love you.”

We finally lie together, in the calm, and quiet after the storms of our souls bring up everything to the surface. Anastasia drifts into sleep in my arms where I watch her in the quiet of the room. Soon I too fall asleep.

****❦ ♡ ❧*****

“Mr. Grey? Did you get the message too?” asks Taylor.

“What message?”

“The panic room... It’s been activated.” He’s dialing the security without waiting for my answer. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, and rings. There’s no answer. Just the eerie dial tone indicating that there’s no one to answer. We take a cab, and it’s not going fast enough. He stops at every fucking red light and won't move any faster! The second I see Escala at the end of the road, it distances away, as if I’m not destined to reach it. Fear grips me. Something horrible has happened! I know it... Something dreadful. Something I shouldn't see!

I am completely immobile! I can't move out of the cab. My muscles are frozen; I can't even move a finger. My wife is just beyond the doors of Escala, yet, I'm fixed in the back seat of the cab! I feel Taylor yanking me out of the it. Pulling me into a fast run to the building. He forcefully pulls the door open. We run again to the elevators, but the elevator never arrives. We wait, and wait and wait. The invisible clock ticks behind. 

“Stairs!” I order. I run up the steps winding, twisting, and going into oblivion. Am I not destined to reach my home? To my wife? But then, the doors to the penthouse appear, but they're wide open. Broken, hanging loose... In fact, everything appears to be broken inside! Smashed vase, flowers stepped over and bruised, petals strewn like the dead in a battle field, and puddles of water. So much water... I’m standing in it. Taylor’s standing beside me with wide eyes. I can’t breathe. I try to move, but my legs won’t carry me. Then I finally realize I’m standing in water. I move, and I leave wet footprints behind. Crimson footprints... I’m not standing in water. I’m standing in blood! Whose blood? The first body we find is Ryan. Shot through the heart and the streak of red still running through his stark white shirt, pooling under him, and trailing around his body, seeking a way to run out to declare his murder.

“Gail!” calls Taylor in a scared voice I can’t recognize. She’s the next body we find. Her face is bloody. Her hands rest in the pool of her blood.  Taylor runs to her, and looks at me with accusing eyes. He holds her to his chest, and rocks back and forth with her in his arms. I'm terrified. Where Ana? Where’s my wife? I don’t have to look far. She too is there on the floor, lying there, by the safe room door. Cold. Motionless. Lifeless. My reason for being is no more. She’s gone! Taken away from me! There’s a scream. I can’t recognize the voice.

“Anaaaa!” She doesn’t answer. She can’t answer! Her mouth is duct taped! Her eyes wide open, and lifeless... There's simply no light in them. I take the tape off her mouth. The frozen silent scream of her face is forever seared in my soul. I can read the horror in her eyes; a final imprint. She’s naked, defiled... I can’t feel anything but immense pain, agony, anguish. I wasn’t here to protect her! I let her die! I let her die! I let her die! I’m worthless! Tears stream in a torrential flood. Sorrow pours out of me in an unstoppable speed. I hold her tight in my arms, shaking her, rocking her, kissing her face, but she won’t wake up. She won’t wake up! My screams drown everything else around me.

“No! Nooo! Nooo! No, baby, no! Wake up! Please don’t leave me... Don’t leave in my own hell! Ana, I cannot exist without you! You’re my life and soul!” I sob. Madness takes over me. I cannot live without her!

“No! No! Baby, no!” I cry out.

“Christian, wake up...” calls a distant voice. Her voice from heaven! The ground beneath me shakes, and the heavens open up.

Even in Death - Evanescence

“Christian, please. Wake up!”

My eyes spring open, wild, fearful, terrified with what I will find. A scared pair of angel blues look down at me. I feel desolate. Is this heaven? Or is my personal hell tormenting me?

“Christian, you’re having a nightmare. You’re home. You’re safe,” says the angel. I blink. I want this to be real. I look around frantically trying to see the blood and the bodies. Nothing... Just the soft light and I’m in the playroom. I turn my gaze back up to her again. “Ana? Ana...” I breathe, and grasp her face with both hands, and pull her down to my chest and kiss her, fervently, as if my life depends on it. My tongue invades her mouth, and I take, taste her with desperation. I want to feel her presence, I want to feel her alive, with me, inside her in every way possible. I need to know she’s here! I roll over, and I’m on top of her, my lips are still locked on hers, pushing her deep into the mattress as if I’m trying to reach her through the mattress, through the time and space, and through the fear that’s blanketing me! My hand clasps her jaw, and the other spread over her head keeping her still. My knee parts her legs and I settle between her thighs.

“Ana,” I gasp, thanking God a thousand times for giving her back to me. I gaze down at her for a split second, then my lips seal over hers again, taking, consuming, and merging our souls, just so I feel her presence with me. I groan loudly knowing, and feeling her under me, and my erection is pushing into her through my jeans. I kiss her face, her eyes, her cheeks, and her jaw frantically.

“I’m here,” she whispers. “I’m here,” she reassures me again, wrapping her arms around me, and grinding her pelvis, invitingly.

“Oh, Ana,” I pant. My voice is low, barely audible, but raw, and rough. “I need you.”

“Me, too,” she whispers intensely. There’s need in her voice, desire, want... I reach down, and unbutton my fly, unwilling to let go of our connection. I fumble to get my massive erection out, and it’s free. I shift and stare down at my wife. I want her, but I need her to want me.

“Yes. Please,” she begs needy. And without another word, I bury myself inside her.

“Ah!” she cries out, surprised at how promptly I enter her. I groan as I feel her sex sheath my cock and squeeze me inside her. My lips descend on her once again, and I push into her deeper, harder, trying to reach through her with all my love, all my lust and desire for her, trying to wash away the fear. She meets me thrust for thrust.

“Ana,” I growl with an incoherent rendition of her name, and I pour all I’ve got into her, sealing our love, our union powerfully, my full weight on her, I’m panting, and breathless.

She holds onto me, finally managing to draw a lungful of air, and is writhing beneath me. I ease out of her, and hold her until I’m fully here, and now for many, many minutes. When I’m completely here, I shake my head, and lean up on my elbows, easing some of my weight off of her. I gaze down at Anastasia, looking at her with wide awake eyes now.

“Oh, Ana. Sweet Jesus,” I say washing the fear away with my kisses tenderly upon her lips.

“You okay?” she breathes, caressing my face. I manage to nod, shaken, but awake. I look at her face again. Holly shit! I’m holding my wife, and I just fucked her, but I think she’s still frustrated, without relief.

“You?” I ask, with some concern, and chagrin in my voice.

“Uhm...” she says wriggling underneath me. No, then... I smile, a lascivious, carnal, appreciative smile. Oh, baby. I can easily rectify that situation.

“Mrs. Grey, you have needs,” I murmur, and kiss her quickly. I scoot off the bed, and kneel on the floor at the end of the bed. I reach up and grasp her right above the knees, and pull her towards me as her buttocks are right at the edge of the bed.

“Sit up,” I order, and she finally manages to sit up, her hair is a veil around her face, her breasts. My gaze is fixed on her without blinking, and I gently push her legs apart as far as they’ll go. She leans back on her hands.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ana,” I breathe as I watch my wife spread before me in her nude beauty. I dip my head, and trail kisses up her right thigh, as my lips make their way to the grand prize: the apex of her thighs.

“Watch,” I say in a raspy voice. I want her to come apart under my mouth, reach her peak, and I want to see her getting lost in pleasure. I place my tongue over her clitoris. I am going to worship you with my lips and tongue baby! I tease and taunt, and lick and fallate her clit, and then dip my tongue into her sex swirling against her sensitive spot, pushing all her pleasure buttons. Going deeper, stroking, stimulating, and making her come with an intense orgasm, making her arch her back off the bed, screaming my name. I nuzzle her belly, giving her soft kisses. Her hands still tremble with the rolling orgasm through her body, and she manages to stroke my hair, gently.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” I murmur. I reach out for her, holding her on her hips, and pull her off the bed onto the floor where I’m kneeling and onto my lap and into my waiting erection. She gasps.

“Oh, baby,” I breathe, and wrap my arms around her, stilling, cradling her head and kissing her face. I flex my hips, and I reach behind her, lift her up, and rock my groin upward to meet her descent.

“Ah,” she moans, and I seal my lips over hers again, and slowly, gently, I make love to her. She tilts her head back. She flexes her thigh, and rides my cock, enjoying. Her mouth is open in utter bliss.

A Night to Remember - Bryan Adams

“Ana,” I breathe, and lean down and kiss her throat. I hold her tight, and ease in and out of her, lifting her, pushing her, in perfect synchronization.

“I love you, Ana,” I whisper near her ear. My voice is low, harsh, carnal, loving, and reverent.  She curls her hands around my neck, and lace into my hair, pulling.

“I love you, too, Christian,” she says as she opens her eyes. She’s moving up and down, and I feel her sex clenching around my erection, tightening, just around the corner is the precipice.

“Come for me, baby,” I whisper in a low voice. She closes her eyes tightly, and at the sound of my voice, she comes loudly. My own climax is intense, soul shuddering, and ongoing. I finally still in her. My forehead against hers, my voice whispering her name, my arms wrapped around her, my release is intense, and all consuming.

****❦ ♡ ❧*****

I finally lift my wife and lay her on the bed. She lies in my arms, completely sated. I nuzzle her neck.

“Better now?” I whisper

.

“Hmm...”

“Shall we go to bed, or do you want to sleep here?”

“Hmmm...” she replies incoherently.

“Mrs. Grey, talk to me,” I say amused. I am pleased to know that I can get my wife lost in pleasure.

“Hmm.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

“Hmmm.”

“Come. Let me put you to bed. I don’t like sleeping here.”

She finally shifts in bed and turns to face me. “Wait,” she whispers. I blink at her with wide eyes, but also pleased with myself.

“Are you okay?” she asks. I nod and smile smugly. I’m completely satisfied. “I am now.”

“Oh, Christian,” she scolds me as she gently strokes my face. “I was talking about your nightmare.”

My expression freezes. I close my eyes with the remembrance, and my arms are steel bands around her; I bury my face on her neck.

“Don’t,” I whisper as the images flood back. Still raw and soul shattering.

She runs her hands down my back and through my hair.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s okay,” she mutters trying to comfort me. “It’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay. It’s okay...” she says over and over again.

When the feeling of loss subsides, “Let’s go to bed,” I say quietly. I pull away from her, and rise from the bed. She scrambles after me wrapping the satin sheet around her, and she picks her clothes up off the floor.

“Leave those,” I remind her and before she can say another word, I scoop her off the floor and wrap her in my arms. “I don’t want you to trip over this sheet and break your neck. She smiles, puts her arms around me, and nuzzles me. I carry her down to our bedroom, and into our bed. I wait until she falls asleep in our bed.

Her innocence, her beauty, the way she holds on to me as if I’d be snatched away melts my heart. How can I love someone this strongly, this indelibly, this passionately? If anyone had said that this would happen to me, or that it was even humanly possible, I’d have said that person lost his marbles. Such things just simply didn't exist for me, yet, here I am. Utterly, completely, and irrefutably and unconditionally in love with her! We've had a shitty few days. The thought that someone was out to hurt her is driving me insane. We’re both stressed and overwhelmed with what Hyde had done. We need to relax, and I don’t know if we can do that here. The paparazzi are constantly camped outside of Escala, SIP and the GEH. We need to get out of town, at least for the weekend. Of course! Why didn't I think of this before? We need to go to Aspen!

I slowly slide out of bed without disturbing Anastasia, and cover her, making sure she’s comfortable. I slowly make my way into my study, and turn my computer on. I email Mia and Elliot.

___________________________________________________

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Aspen...today

Date: August 27, 2011 2:58

To: Mia Grey; Elliot Grey

CC: Jason Taylor

Hi Mia and Elliot,

I’m planning to surprise Anastasia by taking her to Aspen today. Since we've both had very stressful few days, especially Hyde breaking into our apartment, we need to get away for the weekend. I think having the two of you along with Ethan and Katherine would make this trip so much better. Cancel whatever plans you have; you’re allowed no excuses. All of you are coming; we’ll fly in my jet. Taylor will inform you the time. You have enough time to pack. Else, just pack your toothbrush; we’ll buy what you need in Aspen.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

_______________________________________________________

Then I text Taylor to inform the flight crew, and have the jet prepared for flight and text me the time.

This will be good for both of us. I am suffocating. Slowly and painfully... Not having control over the events plaguing our lives is driving me insane. Fucking Hyde! If I was here when he invaded my home, I could have killed him! Then Ana... She safe worded me! She doesn’t trust me enough. She still thinks I might hurt her. Would I stop if she said stop? I can't get rid of the thought of what might have happened to her the night before... What if the fucker managed to get her? What if she came home when he was here and hiding? What if he kidnapped her, raped her, killer her? I’m dying... I’ve died a thousand deaths, slowly bleeding inside, unable to tend my wounds, lick them in a corner to heal. Helpless... All alone... I make my way to the piano. My sole friend at the moment... My only way to both drown my sorrows, and voice them. I am drowning, and there’s no way to surface. I start playing Chopin. Cold, fearful, plaintive, grievous, mournful...

Chopin - Suffocation

Chopin’s “Suffocation.” I play it over and over and over and over again. I finish it only to start again. How long has it been. Twenty minutes, thirty? I don’t know. I’m drowning, suffocating; I'm a man in utter sorrow, a man on fire. I feel her presence, watching me. She slowly makes her way to the piano. I don’t look up. She comes and sits beside me on the piano bench, putting her head on my shoulder. I kiss her hair, but I don’t stop until I finish the piece again. She peeks up at me, and I stare down to her blue eyes, warily.

“Did I wake you?” I ask.

“Only because you were gone. What’s that piece called?”

“It’s Chopin. It’s one of his preludes in E minor.” I say, and pause. “It’s called Suffocation...” She flinches. Then reaches over and takes my hand. “You’re really shaken by all this, aren't you?”

I snort. Shaken? How she manages to downplay everything. “A deranged asshole gets into my apartment to kidnap my wife. She won’t do as she’s told. She drives me crazy. She safe words on me,” I say closing my eyes. I feel nothing but grief to my core. When I open them back up again, the sorrow and the naked fear is still present. “Yeah, I’m pretty shaken up.”

She squeezes my hand in response. “I’m sorry.”

I turn and press my forehead against hers. “I dreamed you were dead,” I whisper.

Her eyes widen.

“Lying on the floor...so cold...and you wouldn't wake up.”

“Hey-it was just a bad dream,” she reassures me. She reaches up, and takes my head in her hands. My eyes infernal with anguish, searing into her, shaken.

“I’m here and I’m cold without you in the bed. Come back to bed, please,” she pleads taking my hand and standing. I need to know she’s with me, hold her all night. I finally stand up. She gazes down at my low hanging pajama bottoms hungrily, making me feel so much better with that one, hot, desirous look. We go to bed, and I envelope her like the ivy on a wall.

****❦ ♡ ❧*****

What wakes me up is her gaze watching over me. I can feel her even in my sleep. I stir and lift my head off her chest, and look at my beloved wife with sleepy eyes.

“Good morning, Mr. Grey,” she smiles.

“Good morning, Mrs. Grey. Did you sleep well?” I ask stretching.

“Once my husband stopped making that terrible racket on the piano, yes, I did.”

I smile at her shyly. Shyness is something I developed around her, and I didn't know I even possessed such an emotion. “Terrible racket? I’ll be sure to e-mail Miss Kathie and let her know.”

“Miss Kathie?” she asks curiously.

“My piano teacher.”

She giggles in response. The best sound to hear in the morning.

“That’s a lovely sound. Shall we have a better day today?” I ask.

“Okay. What do you want to do?”

“After I have made love to my wife, and she’s cooked me breakfast, I’d like to take her to Aspen.”

Her jaw drops. “Aspen?”

“Yes,” I say suppressing a smile.

“Aspen, Colorado?”

“The very same. Unless they've moved it. After all, you did pay twenty-four thousand dollars for the experience.”

Her responding grin is life affirming. “That was your money.”

“Our money,” I remind her for the thousandth time.

“It was your money when I made the bid,” she says rolling her eyes. My eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, Mrs. Grey, you and your eye rolling,” I whisper and run my hand up her thigh.

“Won’t it take hours to get to Colorado?” she asks.

“Not by jet,” I reply seductively, and my hand reaches to cup her buttock, and I get busy skimming her body, and lifting her night gown, and soon we are lost in each other.

****❦ ♡ ❧*****

Dressed, packed and ready to go, my Blackberry rings. I look at the name, and frown. It's Elliot. I hope he's not backing out from the trip. I hold my finger to Anastasia, indicating one minute, and walk into my study.

"Elliot? You're not backing out on me, are you?"

"Hello to you too, Christian," he says, and I hear his grin. "No, I'm not, but I can't believe I'm asking this to you because, you, being so inexperienced, yet you have more experience in this field than I..." he says pausing.

"What field would that be?" I say with apprehension. Did Katherine say something to him about my previous lifestyle?

"I decided to ask Kate to marry me! Since you and Ana seem so happy, and I've been completely in love with Kate... Christian, she's the one! I love her! But she thinks I'm mad at her, because well, we haven't spoken since we had a fight after you called... and well, anyway... I know she can be like that, but that's her spunk, and I love her for it! She doesn't take shit from anyone!" he says. Elliot for once is all over the place. Almost incoherent in expressing his thoughts. 

I'm speechless for a moment. My brother Elliot who has been the biggest player since Casanova, is in love and wants to get married? To Katherine Kavanagh? I'm not too fond of her because of her intrusive behavior, but since she loves my wife, and is protective of her, I am willing to overlook some of her transgressions. Not all of them. Just some. I'm still fucking mad at her for meddling. But, it's Elliot's life. He can fuck it up any way he wants to. He could do worse than Kavanagh. Ana seems to like her. Perhaps there is something to like about her. I don't realize I'm in stunned silence until Elliot speaks again:

"Well, say something! You always have an opinion!"

"Wow! If she is who you want Elliot, I couldn't be happier for you!"

I hear a sigh of relief from him.

"I don't know when and how I want to do it, but I think I want you guys to be there, you know, she likes to be the center of the attention, and guess, having you and Ana there would give me a little courage, seeing how in love you two are."

"I'm sure you'll find the right place and time. I'm very happy for you, bro! And..." I say pausing.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad that you shared this news with me. Do mom and dad know?"

"What? You think I want that kind of pressure on me? Of course not. You're the first one!" he says fervently.

 

"I'm really touched, Elliot! Let's hope that she says, yes," I say grinning in a friendly banter.

"Sure she will! If she doesn't, I'm fucked! I'm sure you will be consoling me..."

"Don't bet on it, Elliot! I'm going there to get away from Seattle with my wife. You make sure to convince her, so you won't need any consoling," I say.

"Thanks a lot bro!" he says mocking. "I'll see you soon!"

I hang up.

"What was that about?" Anastasia ask.

"Just some arrangements, baby," I say, and she narrows her eyes, but doesn't dwell on it.

****❦ ♡ ❧*****

Surprise is in place. Kate and Elliot, Mia and Ethan have all confirmed that they’re coming. They should arrive before we get to the tarmac, and have seated. I’m anxious. I want Anastasia to be happy, joyful even to find out that her friends are coming for a getaway weekend with us to Aspen. I’m watching her every reaction. Taylor drives us, and he’s been given little time to get the pilots, have the jet ready, have the housekeepers get the house ready for visitors, and arrange for transportation while in Aspen. When we arrive at Sea-Tac; the GEH jet is waiting. The weather in Seattle is gloomy, but I’m hoping that it’s much better in Aspen. I’m incredibly happy! I want to show my wife what we have in Aspen! I want to show her a good time after all these shitty few days. I’m dressed in my black jeans, and white t-shirt. Anastasia is wearing her low hanging jeans, t-shirt, and a lightweight navy blue jacket, and she looks every bit hot. I take her hand as our SUV comes to a stop at the foot of the jet steps.

“I have a surprise for you,” I murmur and kiss her knuckles.

Her eyes brighten, dance with curiosity and she grins. “Good surprise?”

“I hope so,” I say smiling. I want her to be happy with this, and excited. I’m holding my breath to see what she’ll think.

Sawyer jumps out from the front passenger seat and opens Anastasia’s door. Taylor opens my door, then he turns to get our luggage from the trunk. I take my wife’s hand and climb the steps to the jet. Stephan is waiting at the top of the steps and First Officer Beighley is in the cockpit getting the jet ready for flight. Stephan and I shake hands. “Good morning, sir,” he smiles.

“Thanks for doing this at such a short notice,” I say grinning back at him. “Our guests here?”

“Yes sir.” With that, Anastasia turns around and looks into the cabin with wide eyes to find Kate, Elliot, Mia and Ethan all smiling and sitting in the cream colored leather seats. Anastasia spins around to look at me with utter joy!

“Surprise!” I say.

“How? When? Who?” she mumbles in complete ecstasy, and elation.

“You said you didn't see enough of your friends,” I say shrugging nonchalantly, thought I am anything but. I give her an apologetic smile for the lack of visit.

“Oh, Christian, thank you!” she says throwing her arms around my neck, and kisses me hard in front of all our guests and crew. I’m instantly turned on. I put my hands on her hips and hook my thumbs through the belt loops of her jeans, and deepen our kiss. She’s right there along with me.

“Keep this up and I’ll drag you into the bedroom,” I murmur into her lips.

“You wouldn't dare,” she whispers back, and baby, how I love a challenge.

“Oh, Anastasia,” I grin, and shake my head. I release her and without a delay, I lean down and grab her thighs, and lift her over my shoulder like a Neanderthal would his wife.

“Christian, put me down!” she squeal, smacking my ass. My pilot grins with the display and he heads into the cockpit shaking his head. I stroll through the narrow cabin passing my sister and Kavanagh boy, and my brother and his girlfriend. Ethan’s mouth is agape as the rest of them are laughing, cheering and hooting.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I say to our guests. “I need to have a word with my wife in private.”

“Christian! Put me down!” Anastasia shouts.

“All in good time, baby.”

When I enter into the cabin, I close the door behind us, and finally release my wife, and let her slide down my body. I grin completely joyful, because this is so absolutely normal!

“That was quite a show, Mr. Grey,” she murmurs as she crosses her arms and gazes at me with a mock scorn and displeasure.

“That was fun, Mrs. Grey,” I replay with a wide grin. I’m so fucking happy right now!

“Are you going to follow through?” she asks arching a brow. She blushes crimson. Her gaze lowers, and then looks up at me, meeting my intense gaze focused solely on her. She’s thinking of our wedding night here. I grin like the Cheshire cat, remembering. She grins back at me.

“I think it might be rude to keep our guest waiting,” I say, and step forward towards my wife. She takes a step back, and her back is leaning against the cabin wall. I’m so close, we’re in each other’s gravitational field. I lean down and run my nose along hers.

“Good surprise?” I whisper my question, anxious to find out. I want her to know that I am not trying to keep her away from her friends. I’m too anxious and worried about her safety. That comes first, but I am willing to do anything to keep her happy.

“Oh, Christian, fantastic surprise,” she replies as she runs her hands up on my chest, finally wrapping her arms around my neck, kissing me.

“When did you organize this?” she asks as she pulls away, stroking my hair.

Michael Jackson - You Rock My World

“Last night, when I couldn't sleep. I emailed Elliot and Mia, and here they are.”

“It’s very thoughtful. Thank you. I’m sure we’ll have a great time.”

“I hope so. I thought it would be easier to avoid the press in Aspen than at home.” She shudders.

“Come. We’d better take our seats. Stephan will be taking off shortly,” I say and extend my hand to her and we walk back into the cabin. My brother cheers as we enter, unable to help himself and makes his mocking comment. “That sure was speedy in-flight service!” I ignore him.

“Please be seated, ladies and gentlemen as we’ll shortly begin taxiing for takeoff,” Stephan’s voice comes through the intercom. The flight attendant Natalie comes through the cabin and picks up empty coffee cups and Anastasia watches her like a hawk guarding her territory, making me pleased.

“Good morning Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey,” she says, her voice drawls on my name which I ignore, and Anastasia narrows her eyes. I smile politely, and take my seat facing Elliot and Kate. Anastasia hugs her friend Kate, Mia and waves at Ethan and Elliot which I approve, and sits down next to me and buckles up.

“Hope you packed your hiking boots,” I say to Anastasia warmly.

“We’re not going skiing?” she asks surprised, making me smile.

“That would be a challenge, in August,” I reply. She blushes.

“Do you ski, Ana?” Elliot butts in.

“No.”

I extend my hand and hold my wife’s.

“I’m pretty sure my little brother can teach you,” he says winking. “He’s pretty fast on the slopes, too,” he says with double innuendo, making my wife blush. I gaze at my brother impassively, but I’m mostly I’m trying to hide my amusement. When the plane starts moving forward and taxiing towards the runway, Anastasia gets nervous. She’s scared of the take offs. The flight attendant Natalia runs through the safety procedures in a clear voice. Anastasia narrows her eyes, and examines her in her navy short-sleeved shirt and pencil skirt, to her make-up. Why is she so ticked off with her? This woman has nothing over Anastasia.

“You okay?” I hear Katherine asking Anastasia. “I mean, following the Hyde business?”

Anastasia nods in response. I can feel Ana tense under my hand. Why does Kate insist on probing her?

“So why did he go postal?” she asks further. She tosses her hair behind, and all eyes on us. She doesn’t intimidate me. I gaze at her unemotionally, and shrug. “I fired his ass,” I say brusquely. But she doesn’t give up.

“Oh? Why?” she says tilting her head to one side like Diane Sawyer. This time Anastasia answers her.

“He made a pass at me.”

“When?” she probes further.

“Ages ago.”

“You never told me he made a pass at you!” Kate explodes. Why should she? I’m the husband; I can take care of my wife. Anastasia shrugs, almost apologetic.

“It can’t be just a grudge about that, surely. I mean his reaction is way too extreme,” she keeps yapping. Then she turns to me and asks. “Is he mentally unstable? What about all the information he has on you Greys?”

“We think there’s a connection with Detroit,” I say non too committal.

“Hyde is from Detroit, too?” she asks with wide eyes. I nod in response.

As the plane accelerates on the runway, Anastasia gets more and more nervous tightly gripping my hand. I turn look at her reassuringly. I squeeze her hand, and stroke her knuckles with my thumb.

“What do you know about him?” this time Elliot asks curiously, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m irritated with this line of questioning by his girlfriend in the sight of my wife. Though, it would still be irrelevant if Anastasia was here or not. I’m just irritated by her. Katherine leans forward, pure attention, ready to extract the story of her life.

“This is off the record,” I say looking at Katherine pointedly. Her mouth thins, but she nods solemnly.

“We know a little about him. His dad died in a bar brawl. His mother drank herself into oblivion. He was in and out of foster homes as a kid... in and out of trouble, too. Mainly boosting cars. Spent time in juvie. His mom got back on track through some outreach program, and Hyde turned himself around. Won a scholarship to Princeton.”

“Princeton?” Katherine asks curiously.

“Yep. He’s a bright boy,” I say shrugging, though I’m nervous inside.

“Not that bright. He got caught,” Elliot mutters.

“But surely he can’t have pulled all this stunt alone?” asks Katherine, stepping right into the source of my anxiety, and this is something I don’t want to worry Anastasia with yet. I immediately stiffen.

“We don’t know yet,” I reply quietly. Anastasia turns to look at me in horror, realizing for the first time the crux of my angst. The unknown names and faces... I squeeze her hand again reassuringly but I’m unable to meet her gaze. When we are finally airborne, and in normal flight speed, Anastasia turns to me and quietly leans in and “How old is he?” she asks into my ear.

“Thirty-two. Why?”

“Curious, that’s all.”

My jaw immediately tightens with tension. I don’t want her to want to learn about the fucker! “Don’t be curious about Hyde. I’m just glad the fucker’s locked up.”

“Do you think he’s working with someone?” she asks me and her eyes are fixed on my expression trying to decipher the right answer.

“I don’t know,” I say as my jaw clenches again. I can’t hide my disgust, apprehension, or worry.

“Maybe someone who has a grudge against you? Like Elena?” she whispers. She mutters the name out loud, and I don’t want everyone to hear about her. But luckily, everyone is busy with their own conversation, so we’re safe.

“You do like to demonize her, don’t you?” I say rolling my eyes, and shaking my head in disgust. “She may hold a grudge, but she wouldn't do this kind of thing,” I say steadily. “Let’s not discuss her. I know she’s not your favorite topic of conversation.”

“Have you confronted her?” she whispers relentlessly.

“Ana, I haven’t spoken to her since my birthday party. Please, drop it. I don’t want to talk about her.” The topic always sours her mood, and frankly she’s out of my life. Past. I raise her hand to my lips and softly kiss her knuckles. My gaze burn into her, pleading to drop it.

“Get a room! Oh right – you already have, but you didn't need it for long,” Elliot smirks.

Already riled up with Anastasia’s line of questioning, I turn my cool gaze towards my brother. “Fuck off, Elliot,” I say reprimanding, but without malice.

“Dude, just telling you how it is,” he says with amusement.

“Like you’d know,” I counter him, raising an eyebrow.

He grins at me, completely having fun. “You married your first girlfriend,” he says gesturing at my wife. Anastasia’s eyes widen, and blushes.

“Can you blame me?” I ask him, and kiss my wife’s hand again.

“No,” he replies and shakes his head. My wife blushes profusely, and Katherine slaps his thigh; the first thing I ever approve of her.

“Stop being an ass,” she admonishes him.

“Listen to your girlfriend,” I say grinning and our banter is over, just like that.

Of course she’s my girlfriend. She’s the only woman who stole my heart, and my soul. No other women who ever entered my life managed to do that.

Stephan’s voice can be heard again through the speaker system.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be cruising at an altitude of approximately thirty-two thousand feet, and our estimated flight time is one hour and fifty-six minutes,” he announces. “You are now free to move around the cabin.”

The flight attendant finally appears in the cabin.

“May I offer anyone coffee?” she asks.

****❦ ♡ ❧*****

When we land at Sardy Field, it’s 12:55 p.m. local time. Stephan brings the jet to a stop from the main terminal.

“Good landing,” I grin and shake Stephan’s hand as we are getting ready to get off the jet.

“It’s all about the density altitude, sir. Beighley here is good at math,” he says smiling back.

I nod at Beighley. “You nailed it, Beighley. Smooth landing.”

“Thank you, sir,” she grins, satisfied with herself.

“Enjoy your weekend, Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Stephan says stepping aside. When we get off the jet, Taylor is waiting next to a VW van.

“Minivan?” I ask completely surprised. Taylor slides the door open. He smiles apologetically, and slightly shrugs. Of course.

“Last minute, I know,” I say, conciliated. Taylor gets back to the plane to bring our luggage.

“Want to make out in the back of the van?” I murmur mischievously to Anastasia. She giggles, and it’s the best sound in the world.

“Come on, you two. Get in,” Mia orders impatiently behind us. Anastasia snuggles against me, and I put my arms around the back of her seat.  “Comfortable?” I ask as Mia and Ethan sit in the row of seats in front of us.

Her reply is a happy, "Yes," and I lean down and kiss her forehead. She immediately blushes feeling shy.

Katherine and Elliot joins us in our row, and Taylor loads the luggage in the trunk. We're on our way as soon as Taylor is done.

I'm anxious for Anastasia to see our vacation home. She's gazing out the window observing Aspen, looking at the green trees with a hint of the autumn colors in their slightly yellowing leaves. But the weather is absolutely gorgeous; crystal blue, though there are some clouds in the west. Mount Elbert, the highest peak in the Rocky Mountains is visible directly ahead. The mountains are lush green, although from a distance they look blue, and the highest peak is still snow covered. It's a magical scenery. This is the town where the country's rich and famous play in winter. The town had seen 70s hedonistic excesses as well, though that was way before my time.

Anastasia looks completely quiet, forlorn even. Why? My gaze is fixed on her.

Ethan Kavanagh turns around and breaks her silence with a question.

"Have you been to Aspen before, Ana?"

"No, first time. You?"

"Kate and I used to come here a lot when we were teens. Dad's a keen skier. Mom less so."

"I'm hoping my husband will teach me how to ski," she says looking up at me expectantly.

"Don't bet on it," I mutter petulantly like a child. I don't want her to fall down and hurt herself.

"I won't be that bad!" she says taking offense.

"You might break your neck," I remind her, my fear evident on my face.

She looks at me for a moment, and decides not to argue. "How long have you had this place?"

"Nearly two years. It's your now, too, Mrs. Grey," I point out softly.

"I know," she whispers back, unconvinced. But she leans in and kisses my jaw, and nestles on my side. I finally feel comfortable enough to joke with my brother and Ethan. Mia occasionally jumps into the conversation, but Katherine is quiet. Elliot said that they haven't spoken since I blew up on him after the cocktail incident. Poor sucker is madly in love with her. Something has changed in my relationship with my brother. I have never spoken to him about women in the past. Ever. Although he always tried to set me up when we were younger. He, like the rest of my family, never knew my predilections. This is the first time he approached me for an advice... well, help rather for him to pop the question to the ball crusher. I've never seen my brother go crazy over a woman. He's had many girlfriends. Hell, he has fucked every woman with a sexual appeal in Seattle and the vicinity, and has over-fished that pond for years. And all that took him was this tenacious Katherine Kavanagh, the future ball-crushing journalist.

Finally we drive through the downtown Aspen and Anastasia lifts her head up, looks around excitedly, absorbing the town. Her gaze follows the red brick, Swiss style chalets, and lots of turn of the century homes painted in various colors. The town caters to rich and famous, and as such there are numerous banks, designer shops, and five star restaurants, implicating the town's residents' affluence, and life style.

"Why did you choose Aspen?" she asks me, deep in thought.

"What?" I ask her, confused with her question.

"To buy a place," she explains.

"Mom and Dad used to bring us here when we were kids. I learned to ski here, and I like the place. I hope you do, too, otherwise we'll sell the house and choose somewhere else."

She looks at me surprised. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, unable to take my gaze away from her beauty. "You look lovely today," I murmur. She blushes. She still has a hard time receiving compliments. But that is still one of her charms. I lean in and kiss her, long, sweet, tenderly, and lovingly.

As the van makes its way out of town, we start climbing the other side of the valley twisting along a mountain road. Anastasia's eyes brighten, and she looks around curiously. I feel so fucking nervous! Nervous that she won't like our home! What if she doesn't like it? I feel tense.

"What's wrong?" she asks sensing my mood.

"I hope you like it," I say quietly. "We're here."

Taylor slows at the gateway made of gray, beige, and red stones. When the gate opens, he heads down the driveway, and he finally pulls up outside the house. Anastasia takes in the double fronted with high-pitched roofs and built of dark wood and the same mixed stone as the gateway. It's a modern structure. Reflects my taste. But, I want my wife to like it as well.

"Home," I mouth as everyone starts piling out of the van.

"Looks good," is her reply.

"Come. See," I say completely excited.

Mia runs up the steps and runs into the arms of Mrs. Bentley, hugging her tightly. Anastasia eyes her inky black hair, dusted with occasional grey.

"Who's that?" Anastasia asks as I help her out of the van.

"Mrs. Bentley. She lives here with her husband. They look after the place," I explain. Mia introduces everyone to Mrs. Bentley.

"Mrs. Bentley, this is Ethan Kavanagh," she says pausing. Guess they haven't defined their relationship, because she frowns slightly, and spares the word 'boyfriend'. Then continues.  "And this is Kate Kavanagh, Elliott's girlfriend!"

Elliot also hugs Mrs. Bentley, and I take my wife's hand and lead her into our home.

"Welcome back, Mr. Grey," she smiles at me politely.

"Carmella, this is my wife, Anastasia," I introduce my wife proudly. Her name is a litany in my tongue.

"Mrs. Grey," Carmella nods at Anastasia respectfully. Ana holds her hand out and they shake.

"I hope you've had a pleasant flight. The weather is supposed to be fine all weekend, though I'm not sure," she says and eyes the westward sky with darkening clouds. She closes the entry gate behind us. "Lunch is ready whenever you want," she says smiling again. Her dark eyes are warm and pleasant.

"Here," I grab and lift my wife into my arms.

"What are you doing?" she squeals.

"Carrying you over yet another threshold, Mrs. Grey," I reply.

She grins, and I carry her into the wide hallway. I kiss her briefly, and gently set her down onto the hardwood floor.

Anastasia stands and looks around taking everything in. The interior décor is similar to Escala's great room. White walls, dark wood, and contemporary, abstract art. The hallway opens up into a large sitting area where three off white leather couches surround an impressive stone fireplace that is the centerpiece of the room. The accent colors are only on the cushions scattered around the sofas. My sister grabs Ethan's hand and takes him into farther into the house. I watch behind them, and I still don't know if I can trust Ethan with my sister. He, after all wanted my wife. I'm not entirely sure that feeling is gone. My mouth thins with the thought. I shake my head, and turn to my wife. Yes, she's my wife!

Katherine whistles, impressed. "Nice place!"

Elliot is helping Taylor with the luggage.

"Tour?" I ask, Anastasia. I want to show her everything. Especially the master bedroom. I'm excited, and anxious. I want my wife to approve.

"Sure," she replies. She's displeased with something. Why? Did she not like what she had seen so far? Why is she apprehensive? Or... she looked this way in Paris, during our honeymoon. She compared herself to Sabrina. I frown, but don't say anything, and taking her hand, I lead her through various rooms in the house. I show her the heart of the house; the kitchen with the state of the art  appliances, pale marble countertops, and black cabinets. I take her to the wine cellar, as well. Then I take her to the den downstairs with the large plasma TV, soft and comfy couches, and a billiard table. Her demeanor changes for the first time. She blushes when I catch her. She knows exactly what I'm thinking about.

"Fancy a game?" I ask with a wicked gleam. She shakes her head, and my brow furrows again. Why so forlorn? What is wrong? I take her hand, and lead her up to the first floor again. There are four suites each with a bathroom of its own. And there is the master suite with a huge bed; in fact it's bigger than the one we have at Escala, and it faces an enormous picture window looking out over Aspen and toward the mountains.

"That's Ajax Mountain... or Aspen Mountain, if you like," I say, and gaze at her with wary eyes. I stand by the door, and my thumbs are hooked through the belt loops of my black jeans. She says nothing; just nods.

"You're very quiet," I murmur. I'm anxious. Her quiet is deafening, and nerve wrecking.

"It's lovely, Christian," she says but there's no life in her words. Completely apprehensive, I walk towards her in five long strides, and stand before her. I tug her chin, and released her lower lip which she's chewing thoughtfully.

"You're very rich."

"Yes."

"Sometimes, it just takes me by surprise how wealthy you are."

"We are," I correct her.

"We are," she mutters automatically.

"Don't stress about this, Ana, please. It's just a house," I say remembering her mood in Paris.

"And what did Gia do here, exactly?"

"Gia?" I ask raising an eyebrow, completely surprised.

"Yes. She remodeled this place?"

"She did. She designed the den downstairs. Elliot did the build," I say raking my hand through my hair. "Why are we talking about Gia?" Is this about her? That Gia has made a pass at me?

"Did you know she had a fling with Elliot?"

I gaze at her for a moment. I'm confused. Why are we talking about Gia, and then my brother? Is she upset that Elliot fucked her? Why would it bother her? Why does she care that Elliot screwed her?

"Elliot's fucked most of Seattle, Ana," I blurt out, and she gasps.

"Mainly women, I understand," I joke to lighten her mood. Her face looks shocked.

"No!" she utters. I nod.

"It's none of my business," I say holding my palms up.

"I don't think Kate knows." Oh, this is about her best friend!

"I'm not sure he broadcasts that information. Kate seems to be holding her own. Anastasia is speechless, shocked. She just stares at me in disbelief. I tilt my head to the side and try to decipher my wife's interest in my brother's love life. "This can't just be about Gia or Elliot's promiscuity."

"I know. I'm sorry. After all that's happened this week, it's just..." she says unable to bring an end to her sentence, and she opts for shrugging. Her face falls, her eyes brim with tears. I hate to see my wife crying, but I'm also overwhelmingly relieved that she doesn't have a crush on my brother! I pull her into my arms, and hold her tightly. My nose is inhaling her scent, dug in her hair.

"I know. I'm sorry, too. Let's relax and enjoy ourselves, okay? You can stay here and read, watch God-awful TV, shop, go hiking, fishing even. Whatever you want to do. And forget what I said about Elliot. That was indiscreet of me."

"Goes some way to explain why he's always teasing you," she murmurs, as she nuzzles my chest.

"He really has no idea about my past. I told you, my family assumed I was gay. Celibate, but gay."

She giggles in response, possibly remembering her question. "I thought you were celibate. how wrong I was," she says and wraps her arms around me.

"Mrs. Grey, are you smirking at me?"

"Maybe a little," she accedes. "You know, what I don't understand is why you have this place?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, not understanding her question, and kiss her hair.

"You have the boat, which I get, you have the place in New York for business, but why here? It's not like you shared it with anyone."

Oh! Of course! She thought I got this place to share it with some other woman! I still with realization, and remain that way for a while. Somehow, deep down in my heart, I knew I would share it with her without even meeting her. A truth I never admitted to myself. "I was waiting for you," I say softly, my eyes darkening.

"That's...such a lovely thing to say."

"Because it's true. I didn't know it at the time," I smile shyly. 

"I'm glad you waited."

"You are worth waiting for, Mrs. Grey," I say tipping her chin up with  my finger, lean down and kiss her tenderly.

"So are you. Though I feel like I cheated. I didn't have to wait long for you at all."

I grin. "Am I that much of a prize?"

"Christian, you are the state lottery, the cure for cancer, and the three wishes from Aladdin's lamp all rolled in one!" she declares.

I raise an eyebrow.

"When will you realize this? You were a very eligible bachelor. And I don't mean all this," she indicates around with her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I mean here," she says softly her hand over my anxious heart. My eyes widen. I'm not worthy of her regard like this! "Believe me, Christian, please," she whispers as she clasps my face with her hands, and pull my lips to hers. I groan, and the beast in me is awake. Her lips move against me, and her tongue for a change invade my mouth confidently. We're both breathless. I pull away, still doubtful, still feeling unworthy of her regard.

"When are you going to get it through your exceptionally thick skull that I love you?" she asks completely exasperated.

"One day," is my reply. But not today.

She smiles, and I can't help but smile back at her.

"Come. Let's have some lunch. The other will be wondering where we are. We can discuss what we all want to do." And as if to contradict to what I have said, we hear the thunder outside forewarning the rain to come. Hike is out, but we can still christen the master suite... Right after I feed my wife.