Authors Note: Hey guys, I’m bored in self-isolation, so I thought maybe I’d write a quick one shot of what the Greys are doing during the pandemic. Then it ended up being 23 pages long… I hope you enjoy it 🙂
“What about the shipping containers we just sent to China?”
Ros frowns and leans towards the screen. I can tell by the change in light across her face that she’s clicked away from our video call and opened her email in search of an answer. It gives me a moment to look at the boxes filled with the faces of the other members of my management team. Welch is in a hoodie, and it’s slightly disconcerting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man out of a suit. My eyes shift down to my own blue t-shirt, and I wonder if they’re thinking the same thing about me.
“Ah,” Ros finally says, and seconds later my email pings with a new message. “Looks like everything went fine. No problems with the cargo, delivery was accepted and payment has been remitted… The crew has been moved into mandatory quarantine.”
I nod, moving my chair back and forth and tapping my fingers against the metal surface of my laptop. The cabin fever is getting to me, and my entire body hums with anxious energy that no amount of time in my gym has been able to relieve.
“What about Grey Publishing?”
Ros raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m pretty sure Ana is the only one on staff still working and since she’s currently working from your house, I feel like that’s something you should already know.”
“It is. I just wanted to hear her name.” Ros rolls her eyes while I laugh quietly to myself and look up out my office window at the lake just at the edge of my lawn. Ana had been down there earlier with the kids, teaching them to skip rocks across the water and playing tag in the grass. They disappeared an hour ago and I’m itching to leave my office to find them.
“Christian,” Ros presses me, drawing my attention back to our meeting. “What else can we bring you up to speed on?”
I shake my head. “R&D is shut down. Agriculture is shut down. Fiber Optics is operational but the employee load on the VPN keeps crashing the servers and Welch won’t be able to stabilize the system fully until next week. Manufacturing is now only making respirators to fill the orders from the state and the federal government.”
“Ah, well look who suddenly reads all of his emails,” Ros teases me.
“I have a lot more time now that my company is basically at a standstill.”
She nods, the visceral agreement in her eyes telling me this is all driving her just as insane as it’s driving me. We weren’t built for this, Ros and me. It’s been six weeks since I’ve been able to close any kind of deal and it’s starting to make me itch. Like an addict in between fixes.
The door to my office opens and I look up over the top of my laptop to see two, knee-high Power Rangers run into the room.
“Freeze, bad guy!” the red one says, holding his fists in front of him and throwing a few punches at the air. His brother, dressed in blue, attempts a sort of jumping, spinning kick that sends him toppling to the floor. It doesn’t shake him. He pops right back up onto his feet and holds his hand up like he’s going to do a karate chop.
“I’ve to go,” I tell my staff. “The Power Rangers just showed up.”
Ros’s face breaks into a wide grin. “Well, we wouldn’t want to let them interfere with our evil plans. Don’t let them stop us, Christian.”
“Not today.” I smile at the screen, then hang up the call. Closing the lid of my laptop, I slowly rise from my seat and narrow my eyes at my three year old twin boys. “You’ve made a mistake coming here, Rangers.”
They both start shouting, charging forward at me and slamming into each one of my legs at the exact same time. Their tiny fists collide with my calves over and over again, like a gentle massage.
“You think that’s enough to take down Dr. Dad?” I laugh an overly exaggerated, evil laugh, then reach down to pick up whichever of my sons is dressed in blue and toss him over my shoulder, holding him to me with one arm. I reach down to throw punches, which are really nothing more than me gently pressing my fists into my son’s side. He fights back, of course, so I grab a hold of his costume, pick him up, and pretend to slam him down on the ground.
“Surrender, red ranger!” I tell him, struggling to keep my hold on his brother.
“Power punch!” the blue ranger shouts. He raises both of his tiny fits and brings them crashing down into the top of my back, making sound effects as though the impact of his punch created a seismic wave. I pretend the blow is devastating and fall to the ground. They’re both on me in the next second and the wrestling match begins.
“Alright, rangers,” Ana’s voice comes from the doorway. “Dinner’s ready. Come eat.”
The boys stop fighting and yank off their helmets. “We beat you so bad, Dad,” Teddy tells me. There’s a challenge in his eyes because he knows I’ll never admit defeat.
“In your dreams, kid.”
“Get him!” Luke shouts. I catch him as he dives on top of me, absorbing his brother’s punches into my arm.
“Boys, now!” Ana says, opening the door and stepping to the side, a clear invitation for them to get the fuck moving.
“Aw, Mom!” Luke whines.
“Just five minutes, Dad?” Teddy asks. I look at Ana and she raises an eyebrow at me. Normally, I’m the one who gives the kids whatever they want. Each and every one of them has me wrapped around their finger in their own, unique way. But without a housekeeper, the nanny, and our security team, Ana and I are officially outnumbered for the first time. She’s made me promise that, no matter what, she and I stay on the same team.
It’s the only way we’ll survive.
“You heard your mother, go get your dinner.” They both grumble as they climb off me, but when Teddy says he can beat Luke to the dining room, they both take off at a sprint and a few seconds later, there’s a crash and one of the boy’s moans, “owe.”
Ana closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I imagine she’s probably counting to ten inside her head. Her hair is tossed up in a messy bun that’s half falling out of it’s elastic. There’s a little color in her cheeks from the time she spent outside with the kids and her leggings are smeared with something at a height that clearly indicates Luke or Teddy. She looks worn out, stressed… and absolutely beautiful. I get up off the floor and take her in my arms.
“Have I told you how incredibly fucking sexy you are today?” I ask.
She moves away and looks up at me with a hard, sardonic stare. “I’ve been wearing this t-shirt for three days.”
“Then let me get it off of you.” I give her a devilish grin as my hands jet out for her. She squeals, then giggles, trying to keep out of my reach. Before I can get my fingers on her t-shirt though, we hear another loud thud from the back of the house.
“I’m okay!” one of the boys yells back.
Ana sighs. “Come on, before they break a window.”
I want to laugh, but the possibility is too real, so I knot my fingers with hers and pull her towards the kitchen. She stops me at the bottom of the stairs.
“Calliope Katherine, I’m not going to come up there again! You have sixty seconds to get your butt in a chair at the dining room table.”
The boys are in the kitchen, practicing karate moves on each other from the kung-fu movies they’ve been watching all week. I should look at getting them into a martial arts class…
If this pandemic ever fucking ends.
Ana starts collecting serving dishes to take into the dining room, so I start collecting kids. Luke and Teddy won’t stop attacking each other, which means I have to carry them like potato sacks and somehow restrain one while I help the other wash his hands. By the time the last one is in his chair and I’ve got him settled down, Calliope comes into the dining room.
“That was much more than sixty seconds,” Ana tells her. Calliope holds up a piece of paper.
“I was working on something.”
“Oh?” Ana pulls out a chair next to her and motions for Calliope to take a seat. She does. “What were you working on?”
I reach for the spoon in the chicken and rice dish Ana made, but before my fingers even fully curl around it, Ana’s hands are around my wrist. She’s not even looking at me. Ever since we had the boys, she’s developed an almost sixth sense that lets her move and act without ever actually thinking about it.
“And when was the last time you washed your hands?” she asks, turning in my direction.
“I just helped the boys.”
“That’s not the same thing as washing, Christian.” She looks at the kitchen, motioning me to the doorway with her chin. “Twenty seconds with soap and warm water.”
I let out a heavy sigh and make my way to the kitchen, pushing up the handle on the faucet and shoving my hands into the scalding water. My skin is starting to feel dry and rough from the number of times I’ve had to wash every day over the past few weeks. Ana’s been perhaps a bit overcautious, but being in the heart of Seattle during this pandemic has been like being at ground zero. Every night, she calls my mother to ask how her day was at the hospital. And the next morning, without fail, I find her obsessively cleaning counters or the kids toys.
“Daddy,” Calliope calls to me the moment I’ve taken my seat at the table again. Ana takes my plate and starts to fill it for me while I turn my attention to my daughter. “Yes, Princess?”
“I think you and I should sit down and have a negotiation.”
“Oh, you think so, huh?” I give Ana a grateful look as she hands my plate back to me and when our fingers touch, I feel a shock of want shoot all the way down to my groin. When was the last time we had sex? Last… Thursday? Fuck. You would think staying home all the time would at least mean I’d be getting laid more, but all it’s really done is fuck up our kids sleep schedules. I don’t think she and I have spent a full night in bed, alone, all week. I’m aching to touch her.
“Daddy!” Calliope’s insistent voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Sorry.” I shake away my libidinous plans for later tonight and look away from Ana. “You want to have a negotiation.”
She picks up the paper she brought into the dining room with her and starts reading from the top of the page.
“Reasons why I should still get to have a birthday party, by Calliope Grey. Number one, you only turn nine years old one time.”
“Calliope…” I stop her. “You know we want to have a birthday party for you, but we can’t. No one can come over, not for anything.”
“But, Daddy! What if we just–”
“The answer is no,” I answer firmly. “You will celebrate your birthday at home with your brothers, your mom, and me. That’s just the way it has to be this year, I’m sorry.”
She stands up from the table, nearly knocking her chair over behind her. Her cheeks are pink with anger. “I don’t ever want to celebrate with you! You’re not invited!”
She storms out of the dining room and Ana sighs before dragging herself out of her chair and going after our daughter. Again, I feel the twinge of anxious energy. Calliope doesn’t seem to be handling self-isolation any better than I am.
She really is my clone.
Ana doesn’t come back to the table, so once the boys are finished, I sit them on the couch in front of Disney+ and try to keep an eye on them while I clean the kitchen. An hour later, Ana still hasn’t emerged from Calliope’s room, so I take the boys up for their bath and tuck them into bed by myself. Both of them seem to think it’s not actually bedtime until Mommy comes and kisses them goodnight, so I bribe them with an extra bedtime story. It’s the only successful mediation I’ve had with my kids all day.
As I back out of the boy’s room, I glance at Calliope’s still closed door and then make my way to the master. Yes, it’s only 8:00, but honestly, there’s nothing I’d rather do than just go to bed. Not because I’m tired, but because I can’t sit down and watch anymore TV. I can’t make myself read the pages of one more book. I could see burying myself in my wife for the rest of the night, but I doubt she’s going to be in a particularly kinky mood after spending all evening comforting our distraught daughter. She didn’t even get to eat dinner.
I sneak back downstairs and make Ana a dinner plate. While her food revolves in the microwave, I pour her a very generous glass of wine and take the bag of cookies from the pantry. Once I’ve got everything balanced on the plate, I head back upstairs to find Ana is already crawling into bed.
“Oh my god, are those the chocolate orange Milanos?” Her face contorts with want, so I toss the bag to her. She immediately fishes a cookie out and sinks her teeth into it, moaning.
“Mmm.” She looks over at me with ecstasy on her face. I hold out the glass of wine and she looks up at me like I’m holding out a chest of gold.
“Take your dick out,” she says, looking between me and the wine and I laugh before passing her the stemmed glass and sliding the dinner leftovers into her lap.
“Why don’t you eat first, then we’ll talk?”
She takes a bite, then picks up the remote off the side table and flips to the news. A banner crosses the bottom of the screen, reporting the updated number of cases, while the reporter talks about a man who had died with his family standing on the other side of the glass from him. He was all alone.
I take the remote and mute the TV.
“Devastated. Angry. Confused. I think she thought that even though this was serious enough to cancel school, we’d never let anything be serious enough to stop her from having her birthday party.”
My head falls back into the pillow. “There’s got to be something we can do.”
“Not anything that will let her invite the friends from school she hasn’t seen in a month. I don’t know… maybe we should try going out on the yacht this weekend, get her out of the house. That might work… for a few days anyway.”
“No. Someone from the cleaning crew I employ to clean the yacht every week tested positive and since that whole crew works together on every job, the whole company shut down. I tried to find another, but apparently, cleaning services aren’t essential businesses.”
“So the yacht is out of commission until all of this is over?”
“If it wasn’t, you think we’d be self-isolating here?”
“Ugh, no. We’d be in the middle of the Mediterranean and all the kids would be asleep at the same time, and I’d be lying out with an ice cold margarita.” She hums with pleasure and pushes back, deeper into the pillows, the exact same way she does when I brush my fingertips over her clit.
It gives me ideas.
“Oh, yeah? And where am I on this fantasy Mediterranean yacht trip?”
She looks up at me through her long eyelashes, her blue eyes glinting with dirty promises. “You’d definitely be kneeling over the top of me, rubbing tanning oil over every inch of me.”
She bites her lip. “The first of many inches you’d give me.”
“Oh, baby.” I stare down at her, chewing on that full, pink, petal soft bottom lip and fuck do I want it. While I move her plate to her nightstand, her hand moves down between us and she grips my already hard cock through my pants. I growl and fall on top of her, forcing her to feel my weight pinning her down to the mattress as I take her lips.
My hands roam freely over her body, taking time to gently cup her face as I kiss her so that she can feel how much I truly cherish her before I rip into her like the starving man these past few weeks have turned me into. But just as I move down to take a good, firm handful of her breast, there’s a click, a low groan, and then a tiny body standing at the foot of my bed.
“Mommy,” Teddy says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I need you to take me potty.”
My head falls in disappointment, but I roll off my wife so she can get up. My hot, sexy, tight-assed, already wet for me wife…
God, I miss the nanny.
I swallow against the want and flop back down on the bed. Thirty minutes turn into an hour and Ana still doesn’t return, which means she very likely dozed off in Teddy’s bed, trying to get him to go back to sleep. Normally, I’d go wake her. Maybe even carry her back to bed so I wouldn’t have to disturb her. But I don’t, because tonight, I’m not sure how easily I’m going to find sleep myself. My mind is occupied with Calliope. It goes against everything that comes natural to me to deny my baby girl anything. There’s a reason she brought her negotiation directly to me. She probably thought, ‘because I’m your little princess,’ would be enough to get her whatever she wanted. Any other time, she’d probably be right. I want to give into her now, but I can’t. And I haven’t seen her smile or heard her laugh since I had to sit her down the other night and break the bad news.
I need to find a way to make it up to her.
Inspiration strikes in the very early hours of the morning, so I send off a few emails, make one very large Venmo transfer, and set an alarm on my phone that will get me up before my boys. The sun hasn’t even risen yet when I creep into Calliope’s bedroom. I look through her drawers and pick out an outfit suitable for what I have planned that day, then tiptoe to her bed to wake her.
“Good morning, Princess.”
“Daddy?” She blinks, still too tired to remember she’s mad at me, and I smile.
“Here, get dressed. You and I are bustin’ out of here.”
“Really?” She perks up.
I nod, then give her a very serious look. “Get dressed and do not wake your mother.”
She takes the jeans, t-shirt, and sweatshirt I’ve picked out for her and silently climbs out of bed. I move down the hall, pausing at the boys’ door and listening for any indication that any of them are awake. It’s silent. So when Calliope comes out of her room, we sneak down to the garage like a couple of criminals in the middle of a prison break.
“We’re taking this car?”Calliope asks, her eyes widening as I pull her to my Bugatti Chiron. Normally, the kids aren’t allowed anywhere near this car. Not just because it only has two seats, but because no matter how often you bathe them, they always seem to be covered in something sticky. I don’t need that anywhere near the interior of my $2 million car.
But today, we’re breaking all the rules.
I even let her eat in the front seat. I can’t take her to a restaurant for breakfast, so instead we swing through a drive through. It actually works out great because my kids get fast food so rarely that Calliope looks at an egg McMuffin like it’s a precious delicacy.
“I can’t believe you let me have a coke for breakfast,” she beams, taking a sip of soda through her straw. “This day is so cool.”
I smile at her, feeling elation over the happiness I can once again see on her face. “We’re just getting started, Princess.”
“Where are we going?”
The normally packed interstate is practically deserted, so I push my foot to the floor and really let the engine open up. We fly down the highway, faster than I’d ever admit to Ana, and my daughter loves it. She rolls down the window so the wind whips her long, dark hair around her face, and she laughs. The sound echos through the car, sweeter than any music I’ve ever heard. Her bright, gray eyes, my eyes, sparkle with joy.
There’s no way to describe the way it makes me feel.
It takes just over an hour to get to the trail head into the foothills at the base of Mount Rainier. There’s a trailer waiting for us there hooked up to a pickup truck where Paul, the stable master where Calliope’s horses are kept, reads a book in the cab. Across the clearing, two horses are tied to a small hitching post.
“Elsa!” Calliope shrieks, jumping from the car and sprinting to her horse at full speed. She wraps her arms around the horse’s long neck, and closes her eyes as tight as she can. The way she used to do when she’d wish on shooting stars.
“But, Daddy, why didn’t you bring Pebbles or Bam-bam?”
I smile, thinking of her as half the size she is now, alligator tears rolling down her cheeks when Ana had told her we wouldn’t name the twins after her favorite cartoon neighbors. I bought her a pair of American Quarters for her to name instead.
“You need to spend some time with your horse,” I tell her.
“But what if she blows out an ankle or hurts a ligament or something?”
“Then I guess you’re not going to be able to compete for a while.” The moment the words are out of my mouth, I cringe. I’d meant it as a joke, because all equestrian competition has been cancelled for the foreseeable future. But, that’s not something I want to remind her of.
Thankfully though, she takes my comment in stride and laughs. “I guess you’re right. You wanna go for a ride, Elsa?”
I approach the second beast with much more caution than Calliope. This won’t be my first time riding with her. Not even my second, third, or forth. Calliope has loved horses since the very first time Ana set her on the back of a pony at a local petting zoo. She’s been taking riding lessons since she was old enough to sit up in a saddle and she’s been in competition since she was seven. I’ve been riding with her many times before, I’ve just never been riding with her… alone before. And this might end up being something stupid and reckless and I might end up on the couch for a week… or worse, but seeing Calliope smile like she does as she climbs into the saddle makes none of that matter.
I take a deep breath and climb up onto my own horse, an black and white spotted Appaloosa that Calliope named Snoopy when she was four. He’s fairly calm and we’ve ridden together almost every time I’ve gone out, but the trust between us is still very thin. I prefer the kind of horsepower that does exactly what I tell it to and exactly how I tell it to, not the kind that might throw you to the ground if you come across a snake.
“Ready, Daddy?” Calliope asks, her voice filled with excitement as she snaps her newly sanitized riding helmet into place.”
“I’m right behind you, Princess.”
It’s a great ride through the mountains. This early in the year, we pass several snow banks that haven’t quite melted away under the spring sun. Still, the trail is in great shape and we never cross paths with a single soul all the way to the top of the ridge.
“This was stupid, you know,” I tell her, passing her my water bottle once we’ve stopped. “If I had any sense about me at all, I would have never brought you all the way up here without Paul.”
“How can you say that? Just look at that view!” I turn in the direction of her gaze and stare out at the valley below us. Two mountainsides, covered in a thick coat of evergreen. The riverbed that separates each side shines a bright, glacial blue under the golden sunlight. It’s breathtaking, definitely worth the ride, and the ass kicking I’ll get from my wife once I’m home.
Calliope and I dismount and tie Elsa and Snoopy to a nearby tree, then sit together on a fallen log and stare out ahead at the scenery. “How’s your school work going, kid?”
She shrugs. “Fine. I think mom might be a better teacher than Ms. Briggs.”
“Dr. Briggs has a PhD in early childhood education.”
“Yeah, but my mom went to Harvard. She’s practically a genius.” Her voice rings with pride and I wish for a passing moment that I’d somehow managed to record that. It would make Ana positively glow.
“That’s very true,” I tell her. “What about your French. Have you been practicing?”
“Tous les jours, Bon, sauf le dimanche mais ça c’est parce que mami disait toujours que tu devrais garder le… euh…” (Everyday. Well, except Sundays, but that’s because Grandma always said you should keep the… er)
“Garder le Sabbat saint.” (Keep the Sabbath holy.)
I chuckle. “I’ll make you a new vocabulary list tonight.”
“Oh goodie,” she replies, insincerely. “Let me guess, you’ve got another piano piece for me to learn too?”
“Several, actually. But you’re still stumbling through the crescendo in the Beethoven piece I gave you two weeks ago. Once you can play that perfectly, I’ll give you something else.”
“Daddy, I don’t want to be a concert pianist when I grow up. Why do I have to learn to play the piano?” Again, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I remember asking my mother the exact same thing when I was around Calliope’s age. I give her the same answer Grace gave me.
“Because playing the piano creates all kinds of new neural connections that otherwise wouldn’t be there. That’s what makes you as smart as you are.”
She tosses her braid over her shoulder. “Nah, that I got from my mama.”
Twice in one day? Ana would be on cloud nine. I’m almost a little jealous…
“You know, I went to Harvard too. I also started an international, multi-billion dollar company…”
She waves her hand at me as if that’s all very unimportant. “You went to Harvard for one year. Face it, Dad. You’re a beauty school dropout.”
“It’s just dropout. Beauty school was in no way involved.”
She shrugs. “That’s how the song goes.”
I listen to her sing the first few, very out of key bars, of Beauty School Dropout and start shaking my head. “I need to talk to your mother about the movies she’s letting you watch.”
“What’s wrong with Grease?”
“What isn’t wrong with Grease? If a boy ever speaks to you the way Danny Zucco spoke to Sandy, you come to me and I’ll take care of Danny Zucco.”
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to date until I was thirty-eight?”
“You’re not. And if you bring any Danny Zuccos around, it’ll be forty-eight.” She laughs and turns to look at the scenery again. I want to give her the opportunity to talk about how hard this whole ordeal has been for her, but she seems content to just stare at the view.
I push her.
“I’m sorry about your birthday, Calliope.”
“Yeah,” she grumbles back.
“You want to know what I was going to do?”
“Your mom and I were going to take the boys to grandmas and then take you to San Francisco, just the three of us, to see that Harry Potter play you told me about. Your mom was going to get the two of you matching costumes to wear to the show and I was working on getting you backstage to meet the cast. We were going to stay in my favorite hotel, right in the middle of the city, and I was going to take you to a fancy dinner at a very nice restaurant where you’d get to dress up, just like a real princess.”
Longing is reflected in her eyes, and she lets out a long breath as she turns back to the river. “Why would you even tell me that?”
“Because it’s still going to happen, Calliope. The second we’re allowed to travel again, I will put you on my plane and take you anywhere you want to go. And if you want to have a birthday party later in the summer to make up for the one you missed with your friends, then we’ll party like it’s May 7th on the 4th of July.”
“I love you, Calliope Katherine Grey. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“So, can I please come to your birthday party?”
She lolls her head to the side, giving me an exasperated look. “Really, Dad?”
“What? You can’t expect me to be uninvited from what will undoubtedly be the party of the year and say nothing. I’m Christian Grey, Calliope. I’m expected to be at these kinds of things, you see. I have a reputation to uphold.”
She rolls her eyes. “I mean, whatever. Since you’re paying for it, I guess you can come.”
“Oh, yeah?” I reach over and tickle her sides, making her yelp and squirm away from me. “Why do I get to come?”
“Dad, stop! Oh my god! Dad!” She laughs, trying to push me away, but I simply clamp my hands tighter around her.
“What was that?” When I release her, she takes a moment to compose herself, then sits up, red faced and grinning from ear to ear.
“You can come because I love you.”
I lean into her, pressing my forehead against hers. “That’s what I thought you said.”
I give her a few more minutes with her view, then we climb back into our saddles and make our way down the mountain. Paul is waiting for us when we get back and I thank him for driving the animals all the way down here from six feet away, avoiding shaking his hand.
I’d considered too late that Calliope and I would smell like horse as we slide into the smooth Italian leather of my car, but all concern is washed away as my baby girl settles on a Spotify playlist and we drive home together, perfectly reciting all of the complicated bars to the rap songs Ana doesn’t let her listen to.
Me? She can eat fast food and get her horse smell all over everything, but I’ll never allow Taylor Swift to be played in my Bugatti.
Calliope can have that with Ana.
It’s almost dinner time when we get back to Seattle and Calliope suggests it might soften the blow with her mom if we bring a few pizzas back with us so she doesn’t have to cook dinner. It’s not a bad idea, so I swing through Ana’s favorite pizza place before starting back to the house.
“What are you going to say to her?” Calliope asks, once we’ve entered the code into the gate at the entrance of our driveway.
“Don’t you worry, I can handle your mother.”
She snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
“Trust me. She’ll be just fine if you do me one favor…”
Ana is leaning over the island in the middle of the kitchen when we get home, Facetiming with Kate. “He’s back,” she says, and I hear the heightened excitement behind Kate’s response.
“Ooh, someone’s gonna get it. Call me back and give me all the gory details, this is the most exciting thing that’s happened all week.”
“I will,” Ana promises. She hangs up the phone and turns to Calliope and me, hands on her hips and a stern look on her face.
“Welcome home, dear.” The way she says that last word sounds like acid.
Calliope sets the pizza boxes on the counter, takes the top one, and moves to her brothers, who are ramming trucks into each other on the floor.
“Come on, boys. Let’s go watch Coco on the big TV downstairs. I’ve got pizza!”
Luke looks up, wide eyed.
“Yeah!” Teddy chimes in, as if it’s the greatest idea he’s ever heard. They run off for the hallway and Calliope shoots me back a thumbs up. I wink and turn to Anastasia.
“Where’d you go, Christian?” she asks.
“I took her riding. We didn’t go out in any public spaces, I had the horses brought to the trail head so she didn’t have to go down to the stables, and she never came in contact with a living soul. I swear.”
“Stay at home means stay at fucking home, Chri–”
I don’t let her finish. I close the space between us in one long stride and bring my mouth down on hers. “I need a shower. Come with me.”
“But, the kids…”
“The kids will be fine for the next couple hours. Come.” I run my tongue lightly across her lip, then kiss her softly. She shudders.
“A quick one,” her breathy, desperate voice responds. I grab her by the hair at the nape of her neck and tilt her face up to me.
“Baby, nothing about tonight is going to be quick.”
Without warning, I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder, carrying her towards the stairs. She protests and tries to struggle away from me, but when I slap her hard on the ass, she groans and her body turns pliant.
“Ew, you’re right,” she says as I turn into our bathroom. “You do need a shower. You smell like the inside of a stable.”
“I think,” I say as I dump her on the ground and stroll lazily for the glass doors, reaching inside to turn on the water. “You should be worrying less about me and more about how fast you can get your clothes on the floor.”
Her eyes shoot to the ceiling, but she peels her t-shirt over her head. I follow suit, pulling towels out of the cabinet and checking the water temperature one last time before turning back to her. She’s standing completely naked in front of the mirror, twisting and turning to look at her body. I can’t blame her, she makes my mouth water. And when she reaches down and grabs a handful of her ass, my cock twitches with anticipation.
“You’ve gotta keep me out of the Easter candy,” she complains. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds since we’ve been stuck in isolation.”
“And you’re a liar.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, letting my expression turn cold. Like stone. “What did you just call me?”
She freezes under my glare and backs up into her own personal vanity. “Uh….”
I lunge at her, taking her in my arms and bringing my lips crashing down on hers. I let it all go. The unquenched desire to fucking get something done with my business, the worry I’ve harbored over my kids missing school and what it will mean for the future of their education… I don’t think about anything except the feel of Anastasia under my hands.
And it’s the best I’ve felt in fucking days.
She wraps her body around me and I carry her into the shower, making love to her through our kiss as I press her into the tiled wall. The steam swirls around us, making everything hotter, and when I brush her clit with the pad of my thumb, she throws her head back and lets her mouth fall open.
“Already so wet,” I taunt her.
“Only for you.”
I moan and move my hand from between her legs to my cock, stoking myself so the tip of my erection hits her clit with each pass of my hand. The sexiest fucking sounds I’ve ever heard begin bubbling through her lips and she pushes her hips forward, silently begging for more. I pull back to punish her greed and she whimpers.
“Wash me,” I tell her. Scrambling out of my hold, she picks up the sea sponge from the rack behind me, and pours a dab of fragrant soap over the top of it. Slowly, she rubs the suds down my body, following the lines of my muscles until she finally drops the sponge, falls to her knees, and inhales my cock.
“Fuck, Ana!” I bark out, slamming my fist into the side of the shower. She sucks, hard, one hand stroking every part of my shaft that isn’t covered by her lips, the other massaging my balls. I groan and thrust forward, pushing more of my length into her mouth. She moans around my cock, the vibrations pulsating through me all the way down to my toes, before she pulls back to take a breath. I tangle my fingers in my hair and force her down again only to be met with resistance.
“Open for me,” I command her, and, after a long breath through her nose, she does. Slowly, I push into her mouth again and I start to shake as I feel the tip of my cock slide into her tight, wet throat. “Jesus.”
She takes me out of her mouth and runs her hand up and down the entire length of me, looking up at me from the shower floor through hooded eyes. “Where do you want to come?”
God, I’ll never know what I did to deserve this woman.
I pick her up and kiss her again, holding her body flush against mine and imagining my tongue dragging over her, the way it will once we’re out of the shower. I take the same sponge she used on me, and wash her from the neck down, making sure to be mindful of the splash back of my broad shoulders because I know that there will be hell to pay if I get her hair wet.
Once she’s washed, I turn off the water and release her from my arms. She wraps herself in a towel before scurrying into the bedroom. I take my time, drying thoroughly, examining myself in the mirror. I want her waiting for me. I want her waiting a long time for me. I want her so needy, she’s trembling with it.
I want to see her beg.
When I finally move out into the bedroom, she’s already in bed. Her back is pressed up against the pillows, her legs are open and inviting. I could crawl right over the top of her and dive in face first. And I try to, except the moment I move towards her, she practically leaps off the bed.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She gives me a mischievous smile. “Remember the last time I took Calliope riding?”
“And do you remember what you did to me that night?” I cock an eyebrow at her and she turns back for my closet. Not her closet, my closet. And I know exactly what she’s looking for. I move into bed, staring curiously at the open doorway my wife will appear inside of any moment. When she does, she smiles the kind of smile she does when she’s really proud of herself for something. She holds up a brown, plaited riding crop.
“You think so, huh?,” I challenge her. She smiles and saunters forwards, twirling the crop by the leather loop at the bottom as if it were the blades on Charlie Tango. Her knees bend as she slowly pulls herself up onto the bed and she raises the riding crop over her head. I stare at her, dead in the eye. “I fucking dare you.”
The riding crop comes down hard, but I have a hold of her wrist before it gets anywhere near me. Her attack stops dead in the middle of the air, and in the blink of an eye, I have the riding crop out of her hand, and I’ve got her pinned face down on the bed, my hand at the back of her neck, her ass high in the air. Looking down at her, I want nothing more than to spread her open and devour her, but first…
The riding crop cracks as I bring it down hard on her ass. Immediately, an angry pink line appears in her smooth, creamy skin, and I feel my cock jump again.
“More,” she breathes. I shouldn’t, but I acquiesce. Once, twice, three times… again and again, on and on, until she’s panting and digging her fingers into the comforter, and I can see her arousal dripping down her thighs. The crop falls silently to the bed, and I stare down at her expectantly.
“Please,” she begs. “Please, touch me. I don’t care what you do, just please touch me, Christian. Please. Make me come. Make me come. Make me come….”
Well, that was easier than I thought.
I don’t wait for a second request. With a hand on each of her cheeks, I spread her open and lick her from clit to ass. She shakes and pushes back against my face, so I respond with one, harsh slap of my hand against her already sore ass, and then start sucking on her clit.
“Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god!” she screams. I sink two fingers in her, twisting them to stretch her, before I pull them back and pushing them forward with much more force. With my tongue dancing around her ass and my fingers deep inside her, fucking her as roughly as I would with my cock, it takes her seconds to fall apart beneath me. Her walls clamp down on my fingers and the gush of her arousal makes the sounds of them continuing to pound in and out of her wet and sloppy. It drives me wild. Before she can even come fully down from her orgasm, I sit up on my knees and push my cock to her entrance, slamming inside of her without any pretense.
She screams the kind of scream that comes from so deep inside of her, I’m the only one who will ever be able to find it.
“Hold on, baby. I’m going to be rough.” Wrapping her hair around my wrist and yanking back harshly, I start to thrust. Hard at first, then harder, until I’m pounding her so hard into the mattress, her breaths come out in harsh, broken, and uneven pants that she doesn’t seem to be in control of. The words she cries out become more and more incoherent until it’s all just a chaotic mix of my name and a lot of ‘fucks’. I let loose on her like a wild animal, burying into her all the way to the hilt, just to pull back and slam my way in again. I’m unbelievably hard. The kind of hard that means I could erupt at any fucking second, but I can’t let go yet. Every orgasm I bring out of Anastasia makes me hungry for another one, and like the fucking enchantress she is, she gives me exactly what I want. She just keeps coming, again and again, until my cock is so swollen, I think it might actually burst.
“I’m going to come,” I growl over the top of her, moving my hand up to her hip and digging my fingers roughly into her sweat covered skin as I pull her back against me with each brutal thrust.
“Yes!” She pants. “Yes! Come for me. Come inside me. Give me everything you’ve fucking got, Grey.”
My vision goes red, not with anger but with lust. Everything outside of the friction on my cock and the sound of Ana’s cries disappears. I pound into her like I’ve got fucking a vendetta against her, and she screams so loud in return that tears start to roll down her face. I’m close, any minute I’ll be pouring into her, but I need to see her face. I need to look her in her eyes.
I need to see her while I come inside of her.
I pull out just long enough to flip her onto her back and then slam home again. Her eyes are wild, half-crazed, like she doesn’t know what’s happening to her anymore, only that she desperately needs it to continue. Her breasts heave as she tries to suck in enough air, and I bend to take one of her nipples in my mouth. She whines impatiently as I suck, as I tease her pebbled, pink nipples with my tongue. When I sink my teeth into her, she lets out a deep, primal kind of yell that makes me want climb all the way the fuck inside of her. Instead, I reach up and take her by the throat, squeezing enough so that her air is cut off, backing off enough that I don’t actually hurt her. She struggles to gasp, and her hands move up to pull at my too tight fingers.
I feel the first pulse from my balls.
“Fuck, Christian. I’m going to come again,” she wheezes. I flex my fingers and fuck her with everything I’ve got in me. So hard, in fact, that the bed makes scraping noises on the floor as I literally pound her across the room. She’s going to have bruises tomorrow, and I’m going to kiss each and every one of them as I make her stare at them in the mirror. They’re a reminder of me. Of this. Of who she belongs to. And I want her covered in my marks.
“Christian!” she screams and she clamps down so hard around my cock it makes me roar. I can’t hold back anymore. As she shatters into a million pieces, I let go and pump my fucking soul into her. It’s several more minutes before either of us can talk. Before either of us can breathe. Before either of us can do anything but shake.
I look down at her, the hair stuck to the sweat on her face, her mouth open, her eyes closed. The stress and the worry I’ve seen her carrying over the last week has completely vanished, leaving her looking happy, beautiful, and sated.
Like my Ana.
“I love you,” I tell her, easing my lips to her bruised ones and kissing her deeply. She moans a sound so small I can barely hear her, then peels back her eyelids and gives me a well satisfied smile.
“I love you too. But if you ever kidnap my daughter like that again, I’ll fucking murder you, Grey.”
I laugh, then nuzzle the tip of her nose with mine. “I’m sorry. I just had to see her smile again.”
“I know.” She sighs. “Truth be told, I was planning on sneaking her out behind your back on Saturday myself. You’re always one step ahead of me.”
“Don’t ever forget that.” I lean down and kiss her again, but just as I reach down between her legs to test her desire for a round two, the door clicks, there’s a low groan, and then a tiny body at the foot of my bed. Ana and I are both naked, me lying on top of her, my half-hard cock still pressed against her entrance.
Luke doesn’t seem to notice.
“Mommy, I need you to help me go potty.”