by James, E L
“Your lips are always so soft when you’ve been crying.”
“I never promised to obey you, Christian.”
“I know.”
“Deal with it, please. For both our sakes. And I will try to be more considerate of your controlling tendencies.”
I have no answer to that, except “I’ll try.”
She sighs. “Please do. Besides, if I had been here…” Her eyes grow wide.
“I know,” I whisper, feeling like all the blood is draining from my face. I lie back and fling my arm across my eyes, imagining for the thousandth time what could have happened.
He could have killed her.
She curls around me and lays her head on my chest while I hold her. My fingers twirl her braid, then untie it and slowly untangle her hair. It’s soothing, feeling her soft hair spill through my fingers.
Ana, I’m so sorry.
We lie for several moments, until Ana interrupts my thoughts. “What did you mean earlier, when you said ‘or’?”
“Or?” I ask.
“Something about Jack.”
I peer at her. “You don’t give up, do you?”
She rests her chin on my sternum. “Give up? Never. Tell me. I don’t like being kept in the dark. You seem to have some overblown idea that I need protecting. You don’t even know how to shoot—I do.” She’s on a roll. “Do you think I can’t handle whatever it is you won’t tell me, Christian? I’ve had your stalker ex-sub pull a gun on me, your pedophile ex-lover harass me—”
Ana!
“And don’t look at me like that. Your mother feels the same way about her.”
What? “You talked to my mother about Elena?” I don’t believe it.
“Yes, Grace and I talked about her.”
I gape at her, and Ana continues, “She’s very upset about it. Blames herself.”
“I can’t believe you spoke to my mother. Shit!” I put my arm over my face again, as yet more shame washes through me.
“I didn’t go into any specifics.”
“I should hope not. Grace doesn’t need all the gory details. Christ, Ana. My dad, too?”
“No!” she says, shocked, I think. “Anyway, you’re trying to distract me—again. Jack. What about him?”
I lift my arm to check on her and she’s sporting her expectant talk-to-me-now, I’m-taking-none-of-your-bullshit look. Sighing, I put my arm back over my eyes, and I let the words spill out in a rush. “Hyde is implicated in Charlie Tango’s sabotage. The investigators found a partial print—just partial, so they couldn’t make a match. But then you recognized Hyde in the server room. He has convictions as a minor in Detroit, and the prints matched his. This morning, a cargo van was found in the garage here. Hyde was the driver. Yesterday, he delivered some shit to that new guy who’s moved in. The guy we met in the elevator.”
“I don’t remember his name,” Ana mutters.
“Me neither. But that’s how Hyde managed to get into the building legitimately. He was working for a delivery company—”
“And? What’s so important about the van?”
Damn.
“Christian, tell me,” Ana insists.
“The cops found things in the van.” I stop. I don’t want to give her nightmares. I tighten my hold around her.
“What things?” she presses.
I stay silent. But then I know she’ll keep pushing me. “A mattress, enough horse tranquilizer to take down a dozen horses, and a note.” I try to hide my horror, and I don’t tell her about the syringes.
“Note?”
“Addressed to me.”
“What did it say?”
I shake my head. It was gibberish.
“Hyde came here last night with the intention of kidnapping you.”
She shudders. “Shit.”
“Quite.”
“I don’t understand why,” she says. “It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“I know. The police are digging further, and so is Welch. But we think Detroit is the connection.”
“Detroit?” Ana sounds confused.
“Yeah. There’s something there.”
“I still don’t understand.”
I raise my arm and gaze at her, realizing that she doesn’t know. “Ana, I was born in Detroit.”
“I thought you were born here in Seattle.”
No. Reaching behind me, I grab one of the pillows and place it under my head. With my other hand, I continue to run my fingers through her hair. “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.”
“So, Jack is from Detroit?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I ran a background check when you went to work for him.”
She gives me a sideways look. “Do you have a manila file on him, too?” She smirks.
I hide my smile. “I think it’s pale blue.”
“What does it say in his file?”
I stroke her cheek. “You really want to know?”
“Is it that bad?”
I shrug. “I’ve known worse.” My sad and sorry start in life springs to mind.
Ana cuddles into me, pulling the red satin sheet over the two of us before laying her cheek on my chest. She looks thoughtful.
“What?” I ask. Something’s on her mind.
“Nothing,” she murmurs.
“No, no. This works both ways, Ana. What is it?”
She glances at me, her eyebrows drawn together. She rests her cheek on my chest once more. “Sometimes I picture you as a child before you came to live with the Greys.”
I tense beneath her. I do not want to talk about this. “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. It’s sympathy and sorrow, sorrow that anyone could do that to a child.” She stops and swallows, then continues, her voice soft and low. “That part of your life is not done, Christian. How can you say that? You live every day with your past. You told me yourself—fifty shades, remember?”
I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Drop it, Ana.
“I know it’s why you feel the need to control me. Keep me safe.”
“And yet you choose to defy me.” I’m bewildered. This is what I find most confusing about her. She knows that I have issues, yet she still challenges me.
“Dr. Flynn said I should give you the 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 mutters. “I don’t know. I just can’t seem to get a handle on how far you’ll overreact.”
“Fucking Flynn,” I mumble.
“He said I should continue to behave the way I’ve always behaved with you.”
“Did he, now?” I observe wryly.
I have him to blame.
She takes a deep breath. “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.”
Fuck. What? Stop. Now.
I lay paralyzed beneath her. “Don’t,” I whisper.
I don’t want to discuss the fucking crack whore.
I’m floating above a deep well of harrowing, painful feelings that I don’t want to acknowledge, and I certainly don’t want to feel.
“No, listen. Please.” Ana lifts her head, her bright blue eyes penetrating my shield, and I realize I’m holding my breath. “I’m not her,” Ana says. “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.”
“Do you still love me?” I whisper.
“Of course I do. Christian, I will always love you. No matter what you do to me.”
Ana, you’re crazy.
I close my eyes and place my arm over my eyes again, holding her closer to me.
“Don’t hide from me,” she says, and she pries my arm off my face. “You’ve spent your life hiding. Please don’t, not from me.”
Me?
I stare at her, bewildered. “Hiding?”
“Yes.”
I roll onto my side, smooth her hair off her face, and tuck it behind her ear. “You asked me earlier today if I hated you. I didn’t understand why, and now—”
“You still think I hate you?” she asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “Not now. But I need to know, why did you safe-word, Ana?”
She swallows, and I watch the play of emotions that cross her face. “Because…because you were so angry and distant and cold. I didn’t know how far you’d go.”
I realize that she asked me and asked me and asked me to let her come. And I didn’t.
I betrayed her trust.
Thank heaven for safe words.
“Were you going to let me come?” Her gaze is unwavering, in spite of her blush.
Yes. No. I don’t know.
“No,” I answer. But the truth is, I don’t know.
“That’s harsh.”
I caress her cheek with my knuckle, the one with the burn. “But effective,” I whisper.
And you stopped me.
We will always have safe words. If I go too far.
Even when I said we didn’t need them.
“I’m glad you did,” I mutter.
“Really?” She doesn’t believe me.
I try to smile at her. “Yes. I don’t want to hurt you. I got carried away.” I kiss her. “Lost in the moment.” I kiss her again. “Happens a lot with you.”
Her face brightens with a grin.
It’s catching. “I don’t know why you’re grinning, Mrs. Grey.”
“Me neither.”
I embrace her, holding her close, and place my head on her chest. She strokes my naked back with one hand and runs her fingers through my hair with the other. And I crave her touch.
“It means I can trust you, to stop me. I never want to hurt you,” I confess. “I need—”
Tell her, Grey.
“You need what?”
“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 shake my head in exasperation.
“I need you, too,” she says, hugging me tighter. “I’ll try, Christian. I’ll try to be more considerate.”
“I want you to need me.”
“I do!” she says emphatically.
“I want to look after you.”
“You do. All the time. I missed you so much while you were away.”
“You did?”
“Yes, of course. I hate you going away.”
I smile. “You could have come with me.”
“Christian, please. Let’s not rehash that argument. I want to work.”
I sigh as she runs her fingers through my hair, chasing away my tension, helping me relax. “I love you, Ana.”
“I love you, too, Christian. I will always love you.”
We lie entwined in red satin, almost naked, me wearing jeans, Ana in her bra.
What a pair we are…
Her breathing evens out, she’s sleeping. I close my eyes.
Mommy is sitting on the couch. She is quiet. She looks at the wall and blinks sometimes. I stand in front of her with my cars, but she doesn’t see me. I wave and she sees me, but she waves me away. No, Maggot, not now. He comes here. He hurts Mommy. Get up, you stupid Bitch. He hurts me. I hate him. He makes me so mad. I run to my kitchen and hide under the table. Get up, you stupid Bitch. He shouts. He is loud. Mommy screams. No. I put my hands over my ears. Mommy. He comes into the kitchen with his boots and smell. Where are you, little shit? There you are. Stay here, you little prick. I’m going to fuck your bitch of a mother. I don’t want to see your fuck-ugly face for the rest of the evening. Understand? When I don’t reply, he slaps my face. Hard. My cheek stings. Or you get the burn, you little prick. No. No. I don’t like that. I don’t like the burn. It hurts. He smokes his cigarette and waves it in front of me. Do you want the burn, you little shit? Do you? He laughs. He has some teeth gone. He laughs. And laughs. I’m going to cook something for that bitch. Gonna need a spoon. Then it’s going into this. He holds an in-jec-shun up for me to see. She loves this. She loves this more than she loves you or me, you little shit. He turns away. He changes. He’s Jack Hyde and Ana lies on the floor beside him and he’s plunging the syringe into her thigh.
“No!” I bellow to the world.
“Christian, please. Wake up!”
I open my eyes. She is here. Shaking me. “Christian, you’re having a nightmare. You’re home. You’re safe.” I look around. We’re on the bed in the playroom.
“Ana!” She’s here. She’s safe. I grab her face and pull her lips to mine, seeking the comfort and solace of her mouth. She is everything wholesome in my life. My love. My light.
Ana.
Desire rockets through my body like lightning; I’m aroused. I roll us over, pressing her into the mattress.
I want her. I need her.
Holding her chin, I place my hand on her head to keep her still while I part her legs with my knee, resting my bursting dick, still clad in denim, against her sex. “Ana,” I breathe, and gaze down into her startled blue eyes. Her pupils grow bigger and darker.
She feels it, too.
She wants it, too.
My lips capture her mouth again, tasting her, taking her. And I rock my dick against her. I kiss her face, her eyelids, her cheeks, along her jawline. I want her.
Now.
“I’m here,” she whispers, and wraps her arms around my shoulders and grinds against me.
“Oh, Ana. I need you.” I’m breathless, yearning for her.
“Me, too,” she rasps, clutching at my back.
I rip open my button fly, freeing my dick, and I shift, ready to take her.
Yes? No? Ana? I gaze into her dark, dark eyes and see a reflection of my need and want.
“Yes. Please,” she says.
I bury myself in her in one thrust.
“Ah!” she cries, and I groan, cherishing the feel of her.
Ana. I honor her mouth once more, my tongue insistent as I drive into her, chasing away my fear and my nightmare. Losing myself in her love and lust. She is frantic, too. Needy. Greedy. Joining me, thrust for thrust, on and on.
“Ana!” I growl and let go, coming inside her over and over, losing all sense of self and falling under her powerful spell. She makes me whole.
She heals me. She is my light.
She holds me, hard and tight, while I drag air into my lungs.
I ease out of her and tighten my arms around her while the earth rights itself on its axis.
Wow.
That was…
Quick!
I shake my head and lean up on my elbows, staring down into her beautiful face. “Oh, Ana. Sweet Jesus.” I kiss her.
“You okay?” She places her palm on my cheek.
I nod as I finally settle back on earth. “You?” I ask.
“Um…” She wriggles beneath me, pressing herself against my sated cock. I give her a wicked, carnal smile. I know what she’s trying to tell me. This is a language I understand.
“Mrs. Grey, you have needs,” I whisper. I drop a quick kiss on her lips, and before she can say anything, I get up. Kneeling at the end of the bed, I grab Ana’s legs and tug her toward me so that her ass hangs on the edge of the bed. “Sit up,” I tell her, and she do
es as she’s told. Her hair tumbles down to her breasts, and with my eyes on hers, I gently push her legs apart. She leans back on her hands, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing quickens. Her lips are parted. I don’t think she can quite believe what I’m going to do.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Ana,” I murmur, and press soft kisses up her inner thigh. I glance at her through my lashes, like she does to me.
“Watch,” I breathe, as my tongue laps at her clitoris.
“Ah!” she cries out. She tastes of Ana and sex and me and I don’t let up. After what I did to her earlier, she must be wound up tighter than an old-fashioned watch. I keep her legs apart, holding her in place while my mouth works its magic, lavishing her with unyielding attention.
Her body starts to tremble.
“No…ah!” she says, and it’s my cue to slowly slide a finger inside her. She groans and collapses onto the bed while I stoke the fire inside her, taunting her sweet spot over and over, my tongue continuing to bathe her clitoris.
She’s so close. Her legs stiffen.
Ana. Let it go.
She cries out my name, her back arching off the bed as she comes and comes and comes. I ease my finger out of her and strip out of my jeans. Leaning up, I nuzzle her belly as she runs her fingers through my hair. “I’m not finished with you yet,” I whisper, and kneeling back, I tug her off the bed, onto my lap and my waiting erection.
She gasps as I fill her. “Oh, baby,” I breathe, as I wrap my arms around her while cradling her head and raining soft kisses on her face. I flex my hips, and she clutches my upper arms, with a wild-eyed look at me. I grab her ass and lift her, flexing my butt once more and driving into her.
“Ah,” she groans, and we kiss while I slowly ease in and out of her. She tightens her thighs around me as we ride each other.
Slowly. Sweetly.
She raises her face to the ceiling, her mouth open wide in a silent cry of joy.
“Ana,” I murmur against her throat as I kiss her.
We move.
Together.
In bliss.
“I love you, Ana.”
She folds her hands around my neck. “I love you, too, Christian.” She opens her eyes and we watch each other.
Building.
Climbing.
Higher.
She’s there.
