Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian(82)
Author: E.L. James

Mommy sits looking at me in the mirror with the big crack.

I brush her hair. It’s soft and smells of Mommy and flowers.

She takes the brush and winds her hair round and round.

So it’s like a bumpy snake down her back.

There, she says.

And she turns around and smiles at me.

Today, she’s happy.

I like when Mommy is happy.

I like it when she smiles at me.

She looks pretty when she smiles.

Let’s bake a pie, Maggot.

Apple pie.

I like when Mommy bakes.

I wake suddenly with a sweet scent invading my mind. It’s Ana. She’s fast asleep beside me. I lie back and stare at the ceiling.

When have I ever slept in this room?

Never.

The thought is unnerving, and for some unfathomable reason it makes me uneasy.

What’s going on, Grey?

I sit up carefully, not wanting to disturb her, and stare down at her sleeping form. I know what it is—I’m unsettled because I’m in here with her. I climb out of bed, leaving her to sleep, and head back to the playroom. There I collect the used cable tie and condoms and stash them in my pocket, where I find Ana’s panties. With the crop, her clothes, and her shoes in hand, I leave and lock the door. Back in her room, I hang her dress on the closet door, place her shoes beneath the chair, and lay her bra on top. I take her panties from my pocket—and a wicked idea comes to mind.

I head for my bathroom. I need a shower before we head to dinner with my family. I’ll let Ana sleep awhile longer.

The piping-hot water cascades over me, washing away all the anxiety and unease that I’d felt earlier. As first times go, that was not bad, for either of us. And I’d thought that a relationship with Ana was impossible, but now the future now seems full of possibility. I make a mental note to call Caroline Acton in the morning to dress my girl.

After a productive hour in my study, catching up on my reading for work, I decide that Ana has had enough sleep. It’s dusk outside, and we have to leave in forty-five minutes for dinner at my parents’. It’s been easier to concentrate on my work, knowing that she’s upstairs in her bedroom.

Weird.

Well, I know she’s safe up there.

From the refrigerator I take a carton of cranberry juice and a bottle of sparkling water. I mix them in a glass and head upstairs.

She’s still fast asleep, curled up where I left her. I don’t think she’s moved at all. Her lips are parted as she breathes softly. Her hair is tousled, tendrils escaping from her braid. I sit on the edge of the bed beside her, lean down, and kiss her temple. She mumbles a protest in her sleep.

“Anastasia, wake up.” My voice is gentle as I coax her awake.

“No,” she grumbles, hugging her pillow.

“We have to leave in half an hour for dinner at my parents’.”

Her eyes flicker open and focus on me.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Get up.” I kiss her temple again. “I’ve brought you a drink. I’ll be downstairs. Don’t go back to sleep, or you’ll be in trouble,” I warn as she stretches her arms. I kiss her once more and with a glance at the chair, where she won’t find her panties, I saunter back downstairs, unable to suppress my grin.

Playtime, Grey.

While I’m waiting for Miss Steele I press a button on the iPod remote and the music springs to life on random shuffle. Restless, I wander over to the balcony doors and stare out at the early evening sky, listening to Talking Heads’ “And She Was.”

Taylor enters. “Mr. Grey. Shall I bring the car around?”

“Give us five minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, and disappears toward the service elevator.

Ana appears a few minutes later at the entrance to the living room. She looks luminous, stunning even…and amused. What’s she going to say about her missing panties?

“Hi,” she says with a cryptic smile.

“Hi. How are you feeling?”

Her smile broadens. “Good, thanks. You?” She feigns nonchalance.

“I feel mighty fine, Miss Steele.” The suspense is tantalizing and I hope my anticipation is not written all over my face.

“Frank? I never figured you for a Sinatra fan,” she says, cocking her head and giving me a curious look, as the rich tones of “Witchcraft” fill the room.

“Eclectic taste, Miss Steele.” I step toward her until I’m standing right in front of her. Will she crack? I’m searching for an answer in her glittering blue eyes.

Ask me for your panties, baby.

I caress her cheek with my fingertips. She leans her face into my touch—and I’m completely seduced—by her sweet gesture, by her teasing expression, and by the music. I want her in my arms.

“Dance with me,” I whisper, as I remove the remote from my pocket and turn up the volume until Frank’s crooning surrounds us. She gives me her hand. I circle her waist and pull her beautiful body against mine, and we start a slow, simple fox-trot. She grasps my shoulder, but I’m prepared for her touch, and together we whirl across the floor, her radiant face lighting up the room…and me. She falls into step with my lead, and when the song comes to an end, she’s giddy and breathless.

And so am I.

“There’s no nicer witch than you.” I plant a chaste kiss on her lips. “Well, that’s brought some color to your cheeks. Thank you for the dance. Shall we go and meet my parents?”

“You’re welcome, and yes, I can’t wait to meet them,” she replies, looking flushed and lovely.

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Oh yes,” she says with easy confidence.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, her lips carved in a smirk.

God, she has guts.

I grin. “Okay.” I can’t hide my delight. “If that’s the way you want to play it, Miss Steele.” I grab my jacket and we head to the elevator.

She never fails to surprise, impress, and disarm me. Now I will have to sit through dinner with my parents, knowing my girl is not wearing any underwear. In fact, I’m traveling down in this elevator right now, knowing she’s naked beneath her skirt.

She’s turned the tables on you, Grey.

SHE’S QUIET AS TAYLOR drives us north on I-5. I catch a glimpse of Union Lake; the moon disappears behind a cloud, and the water darkens, like my mood. Why am I taking her to see my parents? If they meet her, they’ll have certain expectations. And so will Ana. And I’m not sure if the relationship I want with Ana will live up to those expectations. And to make matters worse, I put all this in motion when I insisted she meet Grace. I’m the only one to blame. Me, and the fact that Elliot is fucking her roommate.