fifty-shades-of-grey

Christian opens the passenger door to the black Audi SUV, and I clamber in. It’s a beast ofa car. He hasn’t mentioned the outburst of passion that exploded in the elevator. ShouldI? Should we talk about it or pretend that it didn’t happen? It hardly seems real, my firstproper no-holds-barred kiss. As time ticks on, I assign it mythical, Arthurian legend, LostCity of Atlantis status. It never happened, it never existed. Perhaps I imagined it all. No.I touch my lips, swollen from his kiss. It definitely happened. I am a changed woman. Iwant this man, desperately, and he wanted me.I glance at him. Christian is his usual polite, slightly distant self.How confusing.He starts the engine and reverses out of his space in the parking lot. He switches on theMP3 player. The car interior is filled with the sweetest, most magical music of two womensinging. Oh wow… all my senses are in disarray, so this is doubly affecting. It sends deliciousshivers up my spine. Christian pulls out on to SW Park Avenue, and he drives witheasy, lazy confidence.“What are we listening to?”“It’s the Flower Duet by Delibes, from the opera Lakmé. Do you like it?”“Christian, it’s wonderful.”