The only man I’ve ever been attracted to, and he comes with a bloody contract, a flogger, and a whole world of issues. Well, at least I got my way this weekend. My inner goddess stops jumping and smiles serenely.
I flush at the memory of his hands and his mouth on me, his body inside mine. Closing my eyes, I feel the familiar delicious pull of my muscles from deep, deep down. I want to do that again and again. Maybe if I just sign up for the sex… would he go with that? I suspect not.
Am I submissive? Maybe I come across that way. Maybe I misled him in the interview. I’m shy, yes… but submissive? I let Kate bully me – is that the same? And those soft limits, jeez. My mind boggles, but I’m reassured that they are up for discussion.
I wander back to my bedroom. This is too much to think about. I need a clear head – a fresh morning approach to the problem. I put the offending documents back in my satchel.
Tomorrow… tomorrow is another day. Clambering into bed, I switch off the light and lie staring up at the ceiling. Oh, I wish I’d never met him. My inner goddess shakes her head at me. She and I know it’s a lie. I have never felt as alive as I do now.
I close my eyes, and I drift into a heavy sleep with occasional dreams of four-poster beds and shackles and intense gray eyes.
Kate wakes me the next day.
“Ana, I’ve been calling you. You must have been out cold.”
My eyes reluctantly open. She’s not just up – she’s been for a run. I glance at my alarm. It’s eight in the morning. Holy Moses, I’ve slept for a solid nine hours.
“What is it?” I mumble sleepily.
“There’s a man here with a delivery for you. You have to sign for it.”
“What?”
“Come on. It’s big. It looks interesting.” She hops from foot to foot excitedly and bounds back into the living area. I clamber out of bed and grab my dressing gown hanging on the back of my door. A smart young man with a ponytail is standing in our living room clasping a large box.
“Hi,” I mumble.
“I’ll make you some tea.” Kate scuttles off to the kitchen.
“Miss Steele?”
And I immediately know whom the parcel is from.
“Yes,” I answer cautiously.
“I have a package for you here, but I have to set it up and show you how to use it.”
“Really? At this time?”
“Only following orders, ma’am.” He smiles in a charming but professional he’s-not-taking-any-crap way.
“Okay, what is it?”
“It’s a MacBook Pro.”
“Of course it is.” I roll my eyes
“These aren’t available in the shops yet, ma’am, the very latest from Apple.”
How come that does not surprise me? I sigh heavily.
“Just set it up on the dining table over there.”
I wander into the kitchen to join Kate.
“What is it?” she says inquisitive, bright eyed and bushy tailed. She’s slept well too.
“It’s a laptop from Christian.”
“Why’s he sent you a laptop? You know you can use mine,” she frowns.
“Oh, it’s only on loan. He wanted me to try it out.” My excuse sounds feeble. But Kate nods her assent.
The Mac laptop is sleek and silver and rather beautiful. It has a very large screen.
Christian Grey likes scale – I think of his living area, in fact, his whole apartment.
“It’s got the latest OS and a full suite of programs, plus a one-point-five terabyte hard drive so you’ll have plenty of room, thirty-two gigs of RAM – what are you planning to use it for?
“Uh… email.”
“Email!” he chokes, bemused, raising his eyebrows with a slightly sick look on his face.“And maybe Internet research?” I shrug apologetically.
He sighs.
