Fifty Shades Freed (Fifty Shades #3)(105)
Author: E.L. James

"Oh . . . Blip. Yeah, I see." He sounds distracted, awed.

"Your child," I whisper.

"Our child," he counters.

"First of many."

"Many?" Christian’s eyes widen with alarm.

"At least two."

"Two?" He tests the word. "Can we just take this one child at a time?"

I grin. "Sure."

We head back outside into the warm fall afternoon.

"When are you going to tell your folks?" Christian asks.

"Soon," I murmur. "I thought about telling Ray this morning, but Mr. Rodriguez was there." I shrug.

Christian nods and opens the hood of the R8. Inside are a wicker picnic basket and the tartan blanket we bought in London.

"Come," he says, taking the basket and blanket in one hand and holding the other out to me. Together we walk into the meadow.

"Sure, Ros, go for it." Christian hangs up. That’s the third call he’s taken during our picnic. He’s kicked off his shoes and socks, and is watching me, arms on his raised knees. His jacket lies discarded on top of mine, as we’re warm in the sun. I lie beside him, stretched out on the tartan picnic blanket, both of us surrounded by tall golden and green grass, far, far from the noise at the house and hidden from the prying eyes of the construction workers. We are in our own bucolic haven. He feeds me another strawberry, and I chew and suck it gratefully, gazing at his darkening eyes.

"Tasty?" he whispers.

"Very."

"Had enough?"

"Of strawberries, yes."

His eyes glitter dangerously, and he grins down at me. "Mrs. Jones packs a mighty fine picnic," he says.

"That she does," I whisper.

Shifting suddenly, he lies down so his head is resting on my belly. He closes his eyes and seems content. I tangle my fingers in his hair. He sighs heavily, then scowls and checks the number on the screen of his buzzing BlackBerry. He rolls his eyes and takes the call.

"Welch," he snaps. He tenses, listens for a second or two, then suddenly bolts upright.

"24-7 . . . Thanks," he says through gritted teeth and hangs up. The change in his mood is instant. Gone is my teasing, flirtatious husband, replaced by a cold, calculating master of the universe. He narrows his eyes for a moment then gives me a cool, chilling smile. A shiver runs down my back. He picks up his BlackBerry and presses a speed dial.

"Ros, how much stock do we own in Lincoln Timber?" He kneels up.

My scalp prickles. Oh no, what’s this?

"So, consolidate the shares into GEH, then fire the board . . . except the CEO. . . . I don’t give a f**k . . . I hear you, just do it . . . thank you . . . keep me informed." He hangs up, and gazes at me impassively for a moment.

Holy shit! Christian is mad.

"What’s happened?"

"Linc," he murmurs.

"Linc? Elena’s ex?"

"The same. He’s the one who posted Hyde’s bail."

What? Why? I gape at Christian in shock. His mouth is pressed in a hard line.

"Well – he’ll look like an idiot," I murmur, dismayed. "I mean, Hyde committed another crime while out on bail."

Christian’s eyes narrow and he smirks. "Fair point well made, Mrs. Grey."

"What did you just do?" I kneel up, facing him.

"I f**ked him over."

Oh! "Um . . . that seems a little impulsive," I murmur.

"I’m an in-the-moment kind of guy."

"I’m aware of that."

His eyes narrow and his lips thin. "I’ve had this plan in my back pocket for a while," he says dryly.

I frown. "Oh?"

He pauses, seeming to weigh up something in his mind, then takes a deep breath.

"Several years back, when I was twenty-one, Linc beat his wife to a pulp. He broke her jaw, her left arm, and four of her ribs because she was f**king me." His eyes harden. "And now I learn he posted bail for a man who tried to kill me, kidnapped my sister, and fractured my wife’s skull. I’ve had enough. I think it’s payback time."

I blanch. Holy shit. "Fair point well made, Mr. Grey," I whisper.

"Ana, this is what I do. I’m not usually motivated by revenge, but I cannot let him get away with this. What he did to Elena . . . well, she should have pressed charges, but she didn’t. That was her prerogative.

"But he’s seriously crossed the line with Hyde. Linc’s made this personal by going after my family. I’m going to crush him, break up his company right under his nose, and sell the pieces to the highest bidder. I am going to bankrupt him."

Oh . . .

"Besides," Christian smirks. "We’ll make good money out of the deal."

I stare into blazing gray eyes that soften suddenly.

"I didn’t mean to frighten you," he whispers.

"You didn’t," I lie.

He arches a brow, amused.

"You just took me by surprise," I whisper, then swallow. Christian is really quite scary sometimes.

Leaning down he brushes his lips against mine. "I will do anything to keep you safe. Keep my family safe. Keep this little one safe," he murmurs and splays his hand out over my belly in a gentle caress. Oh . . . I stop breathing. Christian gazes down at me, his eyes darkening. His lips part as he inhales and, in a deliberate move, the tips of his fingers brush against my sex.

Holy shit. Desire detonates like an incendiary device igniting my bloodstream. I grasp his head, my fingers weaving into his hair, and tug hard so my lips find his. He gasps, surprised by my assault, giving my tongue free passage into his mouth. He groans and kisses me back, his lips and tongue hungry for mine, and for a moment we consume each other, lost in tongues and lips and breaths and sweet, sweet sensation as we rediscover each other.

Oh, I want this man. It’s been too long. I want him here, now, in the open air, in our meadow.

"Ana," he breathes, entranced, and his hand skims over my backside to the hem of my skirt. I scramble to unbutton his shirt, all fingers and thumbs.

"Whoa, Ana – stop." He pulls back, his jaw clenched, and grabs my hands.

"No." My teeth clamp gently around his lower lip and I tug. "No," I murmur again, gazing at him. I release him. "I want you."

He inhales sharply. He’s torn, his indecision writ large in luminous gray eyes.

"Please, I need you." Every pore of my being is begging. This is what we do.

He groans in defeat as his mouth finds mine, molding my lips to his. One hand cradles my head while the other skims down my body to my waist, and he eases me onto my back and stretches out beside me, never breaking contact with my mouth.

He pulls back, hovering over me and gazing down. "You are so beautiful, Mrs. Grey."

I caress his lovely face. "So are you, Mr. Grey. Inside and out."

He frowns, and my fingers trace the furrow in his brow.

"Don’t frown. You are to me, even when you’re angry," I whisper. He groans once more, and his mouth captures mine, pushing me into the soft grass beneath the blanket.

"I’ve missed you," he whispers, and his teeth graze my jaw. My heart soars.

"I’ve missed you, too. Oh, Christian." I fist one hand in his hair and clutch his shoulder with the other.

His lips move to my throat, leaving tender kisses in their wake, and his fingers follow, deftly undoing each button of my blouse. Tugging my blouse apart, he kisses the soft swell of my br**sts. He murmurs appreciatively, low in his throat, and the sound echoes through my body to my deep dark places.

"Your body’s changing," he whispers. His thumb teases my nipple until it’s erect and straining against my bra. "I like," he adds. I watch his tongue taste and trace the line between my bra and my breast, tantalizing and teasing me. Taking my bra cup delicately between his teeth, he pulls it down, freeing my breast and nuzzling my nipple with his nose in the process. It puckers at his touch and from the chill of the gentle fall breeze. His lips close around me, and he sucks long and hard.

"Ah!" I groan, inhaling sharply then wincing as pain radiates outward from my bruised ribs.

"Ana!" Christian exclaims and glares down at me, concern etched on his face. "This is what I’m talking about," he admonishes. "Your lack of self-preservation. I don’t want to hurt you."

"No . . . don’t stop," I whimper. He stares at me, warring with himself. "Please."

"Here." Abruptly he moves, and I’m sitting astride him, my short skirt now bunched up around my hips. His hands glide over the top of my thigh-highs.