fifty-shades-of-grey

to one side. He begins to undo the buttons on my blouse while I watch him, yearning toreach out and stroke his chest, but I contain myself.“How was your journey?” he asks mildly. He seems so much calmer now, his apprehensiongone, dissolved by sexual congress.“Fine, thank you,” I murmur, still breathless. “Thanks once again for first class. Itreally is a much nicer way to travel.” I smile shyly at him. “I have some news,” I addnervously.“Oh?” he looks down at me as he undoes the last button, slips my blouse down myarms, and throws it on top of his discarded clothes.“I have a job.”He stills, then smiles at me, his eyes warm and soft.“Congratulations, Miss Steele. Now will you tell me where?” he teases.“You don’t know?”He shakes his head, frowning slightly.“Why would I know?”“With your stalking capabilities, I thought you might have… ” I trail off as his facefalls.“Anastasia, I wouldn’t dream of interfering in your career, unless you ask me to, ofcourse.” He looks wounded.“So you have no idea which company?”“No. I know there are four publishing companies in Seattle – so I am assuming it’s oneof them.”“SIP”“Oh, the small one, good. Well done.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead.“Clever girl. When do you start?”“Monday.”“That soon, eh? I’d better take advantage of you while I still can. Turn round.”I am thrown by his casual command, but do as I’m bid, and he undoes my bra andunzips my skirt. He pushes my skirt down, cupping my behind as he does, and kissing myshoulder. He leans against, me and his nose nuzzles my hair, inhaling deeply. He squeezesmy buttocks.“You intoxicate me, Miss Steele, and you calm me. Such a heady combination.” Hekisses my hair. Grabbing my hand, he tugs me into the shower.“Ow,” I squeal. The water is practically scalding. Christian grins down at me as thewater cascades over him.“It’s only a little hot water.”And actually he’s right. It feels heavenly, washing off the sticky Georgia morning andthe stickiness from our lovemaking.“Turn round,” he orders, and I comply, turning to face the wall. “I want to wash you,”he murmurs and reaches for the body wash. He squirts a little into his hand.“I have something else to tell you,” I murmur as his hands start on my shoulders.“Oh, yes?” he asks mildly.I steel myself with a deep breath.“My friend José’s photography show is opening Thursday in Portland.”