fifty-shades-of-grey

“Yes, it’s been a long day for me too.” His tone is serious.“What did you do?” I manage.“I went hiking with Elliot.” His thumb strokes my knuckles, back and forth, and myheart skips a beat as my breathing accelerates. How does he do this to me? He’s onlytouching a very small area of my body, and the hormones are flying.The drive to the heliport is short and, before I know it, we arrive. I wonder where thefabled helicopter might be. We’re in a built-up area of the city and even I know helicoptersneed space to take off and land. Taylor parks, climbs out, and opens my car door. Christianis beside me in an instant and takes my hand again.“Ready?” he asks. I nod and want to say for anything, but I can’t articulate the wordsas I’m too nervous, too excited.“Taylor.” He nods curtly at his driver, and we head into the building, straight to a setof elevators. Elevator! The memory of our kiss this morning comes back to haunt me.I have thought of nothing else all day. Daydreaming at the register at Clayton’s. TwiceMr. Clayton had to shout my name to bring me back to Earth. To say I’ve been distractedwould be the understatement of the year. Christian glances down at me, a slight smile onhis lips. Ha! He’s thinking about it too.“It’s only three floors,” he says dryly, his gray eyes dancing with amusement. He’stelepathic surely. It’s spooky.I try to keep my face impassive as we enter the elevator. The doors close, and it’s there,the weird electrical attraction crackling between us, enslaving me. I close my eyes in avain attempt to ignore it. He tightens his grip on my hand, and five seconds later the doorsopen on to the roof of the building. And there it is, a white helicopter with the name GreyEnterprises Holdings Inc. written in blue with the company logo on the side. Surely this ismisuse of Company property.He leads me to a small office where an old timer sits behind the desk.“Here’s your flight plan, Mr. Grey. All external checks are done. It’s ready and waitingsir. You’re free to go.”“Thank you, Joe.” Christian smiles warmly at him.Oh. Someone deserving of the polite treatment from Christian, perhaps he’s not anemployee. I stare at the old guy in awe.“Let’s go,” Christian says, and we make our way toward the helicopter. When we’reup close, it’s much bigger than I thought. I expected it to be a roadster version for two,but it has at least seven seats. Christian opens the door and directs me to one of the seatsat the very front.“Sit – don’t touch anything,” he orders as he clambers in behind me.He shuts the door with a slam. I’m glad that the area is floodlit, otherwise I’d find itdifficult to see inside the small cockpit. I sit down in my allotted seat, and he crouchesbeside me to strap me into the harness. It’s a four-point harness with all the straps connectingto one central buckle. He tightens both of the upper straps, so I can hardly move.He’s so close and intent on what he’s doing. If I could only lean forward, my nose wouldbe in his hair. He smells, clean, fresh, heavenly, but I’m fastened securely into my seat andeffectively immobile. He glances up and smiles, like he’s enjoying his usual private joke,