Grey
Page 80
“You don’t know her?”
“No.”
I take Ana’s hand and we head upstairs, to what will be her bedroom.
Dr. Greene has one of those myopic stares; it’s penetrating and that makes me a tad uncomfortable. “Mr. Grey,” she says, shaking my outstretched hand with a firm, no-nonsense grip.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” I flash her my most benign smile.
“Thank you for making it worth my while, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele,” she says politely to Ana, and I know she’s sizing up our relationship. I’m sure that she thinks I should be twiddling a mustache like a silent-movie villain. She turns and gives me a pointed “leave now” kind of look.
Okay.
“I’ll be downstairs,” I acquiesce. Though I would like to watch. I’m sure the good doctor’s reaction would be priceless if I made that request. I smirk at the thought and head downstairs to the living room.
Now that Ana’s no longer with me, I’m restless again. As a distraction I set the counter with two placemats. It’s the second time I’ve done this, and the first time was for Ana, too.
You’re going soft, Grey.
I select a Chablis to have with lunch—one of the few chardonnays I like—and when I’m done I take a seat on the sofa and browse through the sports section of the paper. Turning up the volume via the remote for my iPod, I hope the music will help me focus on stats from last night’s Mariners win against the Yankees, rather than what’s happening upstairs between Ana and Dr. Greene.
Eventually their footsteps echo in the corridor, and I look up as they enter. “Are you done?” I ask, and hit the remote for the iPod, to quiet the aria.
“Yes, Mr. Grey. Look after her; she’s a beautiful, bright young woman.”
What has Ana told her?
“I fully intend to,” I say, with a quick what-the-fuck glance at Ana.
She bats her lashes, clueless. Good. It’s nothing she’s said, then.
“I’ll send you my bill,” says Dr. Greene. “Good day, and good luck to you, Ana.” The edges of her eyes crinkle with a warm smile as we shake hands.
Taylor escorts her toward the elevator and wisely closes the double doors to the foyer.
“How was that?” I ask, a little bemused by Dr. Greene’s words.
“Fine, thank you,” Ana answers. “She said that I had to abstain from all sexual activity for the next four weeks.”
What the hell? I gape at her in shock.
Ana’s earnest expression dissolves into one of taunting triumph. “Gotcha!”
Well played, Miss Steele.
My eyes narrow and her grin vanishes.
“Gotcha!” I can’t help my smirk. Reaching around her waist, I pull her against me, my body hungering for her. “You are incorrigible, Miss Steele.” I weave my hands through her hair and kiss her hard, wondering if I should fuck her over the kitchen counter as a lesson.
All in good time, Grey.
“As much as I’d like to take you here and now, you need to eat and so do I. I don’t want you passing out on me later,” I whisper.
“Is that all you want me for—my body?” she asks.
“That and your smart mouth.” I kiss her once more, thinking of what’s to come…My kiss deepens and desire hardens my body. I want this woman. Before I fuck her on the floor, I release her, and we’re both breathless.
“What’s the music?” she says, her voice hoarse.
“Villa-Lobos, an aria from Bachianas Brasileiras. Good, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she says, gazing at the breakfast bar. I take the chicken Caesar out of the fridge, place it on the table between the placemats, and ask her if she’s okay with salad.
“Yes, fine, thank you.” She smiles.
From the wine fridge I take out the Chablis, feeling her eyes on me. I didn’t know I could be so domestic. “What are you thinking?” I ask.
“I was just watching the way you move.”
“And?” I ask, momentarily surprised.
“You’re very graceful,” she says quietly, her cheeks pink.
“Why, thank you, Miss Steele.” I sit beside her, unsure how to respond to her sweet compliment. Nobody’s called me graceful before. “Chablis?”
“Please.”
“Help yourself to salad. Tell me—what method did you opt for?”
“Mini pill,” she says.
“And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?”
A blush steals across her surprised face. “I’m sure you’ll remind me,” she says with a hint of sarcasm, which I choose to ignore.
You should have had the shot.
“I’ll put an alarm on my calendar. Eat.”
She takes a bite, then another…and another. She’s eating!
“So I can put chicken Caesar on the list for Mrs. Jones?” I ask.
“I thought I’d be doing the cooking.”
“Yes. You will.”
She finishes before I do. She must have been starving.
“Eager as ever, Miss Steele?”
“Yes,” she says, giving me a demure look from beneath her lashes.
Fuck. There it is.
The attraction.
As if under her spell, I get up and tug her into my arms.
“Do you want to do this?” I whisper, inwardly begging her to say yes.
“I haven’t signed anything.”
“I know—but I’m breaking all the rules these days.”
“Are you going to hit me?”
“Yes, but it won’t be to hurt you. I don’t want to punish you right now. If you’d caught me yesterday evening, well, that would have been a different story.”
Her face turns to shock.
Oh, baby. “Don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise, Anastasia. One of the reasons people like me to do this is because we either like to give or receive pain. It’s very simple. You don’t, so I spent a great deal of time yesterday thinking about that.”
I wrap my arms around her, holding her against my hardening erection.
“Did you reach any conclusions?” she whispers.
“No, and right now, I just want to tie you up and fuck you senseless. Are you ready for that?”
Her expression is darker, sensual, and full of carnal curiosity. “Yes,” she says, the word as soft as a sigh.
“No.”
I take Ana’s hand and we head upstairs, to what will be her bedroom.
Dr. Greene has one of those myopic stares; it’s penetrating and that makes me a tad uncomfortable. “Mr. Grey,” she says, shaking my outstretched hand with a firm, no-nonsense grip.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” I flash her my most benign smile.
“Thank you for making it worth my while, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele,” she says politely to Ana, and I know she’s sizing up our relationship. I’m sure that she thinks I should be twiddling a mustache like a silent-movie villain. She turns and gives me a pointed “leave now” kind of look.
Okay.
“I’ll be downstairs,” I acquiesce. Though I would like to watch. I’m sure the good doctor’s reaction would be priceless if I made that request. I smirk at the thought and head downstairs to the living room.
Now that Ana’s no longer with me, I’m restless again. As a distraction I set the counter with two placemats. It’s the second time I’ve done this, and the first time was for Ana, too.
You’re going soft, Grey.
I select a Chablis to have with lunch—one of the few chardonnays I like—and when I’m done I take a seat on the sofa and browse through the sports section of the paper. Turning up the volume via the remote for my iPod, I hope the music will help me focus on stats from last night’s Mariners win against the Yankees, rather than what’s happening upstairs between Ana and Dr. Greene.
Eventually their footsteps echo in the corridor, and I look up as they enter. “Are you done?” I ask, and hit the remote for the iPod, to quiet the aria.
“Yes, Mr. Grey. Look after her; she’s a beautiful, bright young woman.”
What has Ana told her?
“I fully intend to,” I say, with a quick what-the-fuck glance at Ana.
She bats her lashes, clueless. Good. It’s nothing she’s said, then.
“I’ll send you my bill,” says Dr. Greene. “Good day, and good luck to you, Ana.” The edges of her eyes crinkle with a warm smile as we shake hands.
Taylor escorts her toward the elevator and wisely closes the double doors to the foyer.
“How was that?” I ask, a little bemused by Dr. Greene’s words.
“Fine, thank you,” Ana answers. “She said that I had to abstain from all sexual activity for the next four weeks.”
What the hell? I gape at her in shock.
Ana’s earnest expression dissolves into one of taunting triumph. “Gotcha!”
Well played, Miss Steele.
My eyes narrow and her grin vanishes.
“Gotcha!” I can’t help my smirk. Reaching around her waist, I pull her against me, my body hungering for her. “You are incorrigible, Miss Steele.” I weave my hands through her hair and kiss her hard, wondering if I should fuck her over the kitchen counter as a lesson.
All in good time, Grey.
“As much as I’d like to take you here and now, you need to eat and so do I. I don’t want you passing out on me later,” I whisper.
“Is that all you want me for—my body?” she asks.
“That and your smart mouth.” I kiss her once more, thinking of what’s to come…My kiss deepens and desire hardens my body. I want this woman. Before I fuck her on the floor, I release her, and we’re both breathless.
“What’s the music?” she says, her voice hoarse.
“Villa-Lobos, an aria from Bachianas Brasileiras. Good, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she says, gazing at the breakfast bar. I take the chicken Caesar out of the fridge, place it on the table between the placemats, and ask her if she’s okay with salad.
“Yes, fine, thank you.” She smiles.
From the wine fridge I take out the Chablis, feeling her eyes on me. I didn’t know I could be so domestic. “What are you thinking?” I ask.
“I was just watching the way you move.”
“And?” I ask, momentarily surprised.
“You’re very graceful,” she says quietly, her cheeks pink.
“Why, thank you, Miss Steele.” I sit beside her, unsure how to respond to her sweet compliment. Nobody’s called me graceful before. “Chablis?”
“Please.”
“Help yourself to salad. Tell me—what method did you opt for?”
“Mini pill,” she says.
“And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?”
A blush steals across her surprised face. “I’m sure you’ll remind me,” she says with a hint of sarcasm, which I choose to ignore.
You should have had the shot.
“I’ll put an alarm on my calendar. Eat.”
She takes a bite, then another…and another. She’s eating!
“So I can put chicken Caesar on the list for Mrs. Jones?” I ask.
“I thought I’d be doing the cooking.”
“Yes. You will.”
She finishes before I do. She must have been starving.
“Eager as ever, Miss Steele?”
“Yes,” she says, giving me a demure look from beneath her lashes.
Fuck. There it is.
The attraction.
As if under her spell, I get up and tug her into my arms.
“Do you want to do this?” I whisper, inwardly begging her to say yes.
“I haven’t signed anything.”
“I know—but I’m breaking all the rules these days.”
“Are you going to hit me?”
“Yes, but it won’t be to hurt you. I don’t want to punish you right now. If you’d caught me yesterday evening, well, that would have been a different story.”
Her face turns to shock.
Oh, baby. “Don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise, Anastasia. One of the reasons people like me to do this is because we either like to give or receive pain. It’s very simple. You don’t, so I spent a great deal of time yesterday thinking about that.”
I wrap my arms around her, holding her against my hardening erection.
“Did you reach any conclusions?” she whispers.
“No, and right now, I just want to tie you up and fuck you senseless. Are you ready for that?”
Her expression is darker, sensual, and full of carnal curiosity. “Yes,” she says, the word as soft as a sigh.
