“Did she say anything to Mrs. Jones?”
“Not much.”
“You can’t find her? What about her family?”
“They don’t know where she is. Neither does her husband.”
“Husband?” she exclaims.
“Yes.” That lying asshole. “She’s been married for about two years.”
“So she was with you while she was married?”
“No! Good God, no. She was with me nearly three years ago. Then she left and married this guy shortly afterward.” I told you, baby, I don’t share. I’ve only tangled with one married woman and that didn’t end well.
“So why is she trying to get your attention now?”
“I don’t know. All we’ve managed to find out is that she ran out on her husband about four months ago.”
Ana picks up a teaspoon and waves it as she talks. “Let me get this straight. She hasn’t been your submissive for three years?”
“About two and a half years.”
“And she wanted more.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t?”
“You know this.”
“So she left you.”
“Yes.”
“So why is she coming to you now?”
“I don’t know.” She wanted more, but I couldn’t give her that. Maybe she’s seen me with you?
“But you suspect—”
“I suspect it has something to do with you.” But I could be wrong.
Now can we go back to bed?
Ana studies me, surveying my chest. But I ignore her scrutiny and ask the question that’s been nagging me since she told me she’d seen Leila. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”
Ana has the grace to look guilty. “I forgot about her. You know, drinks after work, at the end of my first week. You turning up at the bar and your testosterone rush with Jack.” She gives me a shy smile. “And then when we were here. It slipped my mind. You have a habit of making me forget things.”
I’d like to forget this now. Let’s go back to bed.
“Testosterone rush?” I repeat, amused.
“Yes. The pissing contest.”
“I’ll show you a testosterone rush.” My voice is low.
“Wouldn’t you rather have a cup of tea?” She offers me a cup.
“No, Anastasia, I wouldn’t.” I want you. Now. “Forget about her. Come.” I hold out my hand. She sets the teacup back on the counter and puts her hand in mine.
Back in her bedroom, I slide my shirt over her head. “I like you wearing my clothes,” I whisper.
“I like wearing them. They smell of you.”
I grasp her head between my hands and kiss her.
I want to make her forget about Leila.
I want to forget about Leila.
I pick her up and walk her to the concrete wall.
“Wrap your legs around me, baby,” I order.
WHEN I OPEN MY eyes the room is bathed with light and Ana is awake beside me, tucked in the crook of my arm. “Hi,” she says, grinning as if she’s up to some mischief.
“Hi,” I respond, cautiously. Something is off. “What are you doing?”
“Looking at you.” She skims her hand down my belly. And my body comes to life.
Whoa!
I grab her hand.
Surely she’s sore after yesterday.
She licks her lips and her guilty grin is replaced with a knowledgeable, carnal smile.
Maybe not.
Waking up beside Anastasia Steele has definite advantages. Rolling on top of her, I grab her hands and pin her to the bed as she wriggles beneath me. “I think you’re up to no good, Miss Steele.”
“I like being up to no good near you.”
She may as well be addressing my groin directly.
“You do?” I give her a quick peck on the lips. She nods.
Oh, you beautiful girl. “Sex or breakfast?”
She tilts her hips to meet me and it takes all my self-control not to take what she’s offering straightaway.
No. Make her wait.
“Good choice.” I kiss her throat, her clavicle, her sternum, her breast.
“Ah,” she breathes.
WE LIE IN THE afterglow.
I don’t remember moments like this before Ana. I didn’t lie in bed just…being. I nuzzle her hair. All that’s changed.
She opens her eyes.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Are you sore?” I ask.
Her cheeks pink. “No. Tired.”
I stroke her cheek. “You didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Neither did you.” Her smile is one hundred percent coy Miss Steele, but her eyes cloud. “I haven’t been sleeping well, recently.”
Remorse—swift and ugly, flares in my gut. “I’m sorry,” I reply.
“Don’t apologize. It was my—”
I place my finger on her mouth. “Hush.”
She purses her lips to kiss my finger.
“If it’s any consolation,” I confess, “I haven’t slept well this past week, either.”
“Oh, Christian,” she says, and, taking my hand, kisses each knuckle in turn. It’s an affectionate, humble gesture. My throat constricts as my heart expands. I’m on the edge of something unknown, a plain where the horizon disappears and the territory is new and unexplored.
It’s terrifying.
It’s confusing.
It’s exciting.
What are you doing to me, Ana?
Where are you leading me?
I take a deep breath and focus on the woman beside me. She gives me a sexy smile and I can see us spending the entire day in bed, but I realize I’m hungry. “Breakfast?” I ask.