I turn, furious, towards the door, ready to rip the head off whoever is interrupting my meeting with Welch and Taylor, but I soften when I see Anastasia stomping towards me. She looks pissed, but I knew she would be. I sigh and brace myself for the torrent of her anger.
“Just what in the hell do you call this?” She demands.
“I think I’d call this you interrupting my meeting, Mrs. Grey.”
“I wouldn’t be interrupting your meeting, if I was back at my office at Grey Publishing!”
“That’s very true, Mrs. Grey. You’ll find your way there if you head down the elevator one floor.”
“My old office.”
“You don’t like your new office?” I ask.
“I liked my old office.” She glares down at me and I turn back to Taylor and Welch.
“I think we have enough for today, Gentleman,” I say. “Keep me informed of any updates.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Grey,” Welch says and he and Taylor stand and exit the room.
“You wanted to come back to work,” I tell her. “I thought this was a compromise.”
“A compromise?” she scoffs. “How is this a compromise?”
“The only way I would be comfortable with you going back to work is if I knew you were safe. The only way I can ensure your safety is to have you with me at all times.”
“And if you would have communicated that to me, I would have understood, Christian. But you didn’t. You just unilaterally decided this. You’re treating me like a child again. You can’t just stuff me into a filing room and hide me away from the world.”
“A filing room? Come on, Ana, give me a little more credit than that. That office is very coveted around here. I assure you my accounting department was not very pleased with the move.”
“Well neither am I.”
I stare at her angry face, unable to say anything more. I don’t want to fight with her. I put my elbows on the desk and rest my face in my hands.
“What was I supposed to do, Ana? I’m not ready for this yet.”
“What do you mean, you’re not ready. This isn’t about you, Christian.”
“Yes it is, Ana. You were taken because of me. I could have insisted you fly on my jet. I could have insisted you take security. But I didn’t, and I nearly lost you because of it. I’m not willing to take that risk. I’m not willing to lose you, Ana.”
Her face softens and she moves my arms and sits on the desk in front of me.
“Christian, you can’t protect me from everything. You had no way of knowing any of this would happen. I don’t want to live our lives just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I promised you, I would be more careful, and hell, I’m not even mad that you moved my company into your building. I just need you to make these decisions with me, Christian. I need you to talk to me. I’m your wife, we’re in this together. I just need you to talk to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper and she leans down to kiss me. I kiss her back, reaching up and caressing her neck as I do. She tries to pull away but I hold her there, not ready to let her go.
“You’re not mad?” I whisper against her lips and kiss her again.
“No,” She answers, and her fingers grip the lapels of my jacket. I groan and lean closer to her, moving from her lips to her jaw and down her neck.
“Let me make it up to you,” I plead.
“Here?” She breathes, “Christian, we’re in your office. We’re at work.”
“I know,” I smile against the skin of her neck. My fingers move up and begin to undo the top button of her blouse. “I’ve never fucked on the this desk before, Mrs. Grey.”
“Another first,” She whispers and she gasps as I run my tongue down her cleavage. My hand slides up her leg and around to her ass and I smile again.
“I might have to introduce casual friday, Mrs. Grey. I’ve missed your ass in these jeans.”
I peel her out of her shirt and reach around to unclasp her bra. I stand and take both of her breasts in my hands, examining them like the work of art they are.
“Your breasts are mighty fine, Mrs. Grey.”
“Christian, we don’t have time. If you want to make love, then make love to me,” She says.
I smile and lay her down on my desk. In seconds, I’m pulling her jeans and her panties off of her, and my cock springs to life as I look at her naked, dripping on my desk.
“Oh, Mrs. Grey,” I say, and I sit back in my chair and bring my face to her glistening wet pussy.
“Fuck, Christian,” She moans as my tongue explores her folds. I lick my way up and swirl my tongue around her clitoris.
“You taste so good, baby,” I say and I dip my tongue into her, circling her entrance.
“Not yet baby. I want you to come like this first.”
I move my lips back up to her clitoris and suck lightly as I ease my fingers into her. She cries out again as I rub the sensitive spot at the front of her vagina.
“Shit, ah!” She yells and I feel her begin to tremble. She’s close, really close. I bite down, gently, onto her clitoris and she begins to shudder around my fingers.
“Fuck, Christian, I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming!” she screams. I continue to suck her and pump my fingers in and out of her, refusing to let her come down. While she comes I reach down and release myself from my pants and the moment her orgasm stops, I thrust, hard, into her. She cries out again as I pound into her with a merciless rhythm.
“Fuck. I. Need. This,” I say in time with my thrusts. “You. Are. So. Sweet. Ana. I. Love. You. You. Are. Mine.”
“Yes!” She screams, meeting me thrust for thrust. “Yours, Christian. Only yours!” I growl and pound on, as hard as I can without breaking her. I’m getting close. I reach down and rub her clitoris while I fuck her and I feel her insides quicken around me. Yes, baby. That’s it. Give it to me!
“Christian!” she cries as she lets go once again and I’m spiraling. I grunt as I try to keep up the furious rhythm of my thrusts while I come. When she comes down, I come down, and I collapse over her.
“I love you, Anastasia.”
“I love you, Christian.”
I kiss her, consuming her mouth with mine.
I button my fly as Ana quickly skitters off the desk to gather her clothes. I watch her dress with an amused smile on my face, while I straighten my tie. With one last quick kiss, she dashes out of my office and I follow after her. Calm, in control. Just like it should be. I take my blackberry out of my pocket and set it down on the desk in front of my new assistant. Fuck, what was her name? It doesn’t matter, I suppose.
“This is dying,” I tell her, “Charge it.”
“Yes, Sir,” She responds, looking down for what I suspect is the phone charger. Has Andrea trained this girl at all? I’m sure she would use the same charger for her own blackberry, or has Andrea not gotten her one?
“Have you gotten your blackberry yet, Miss…?” I pause as I remember that I don’t know her name.
“Carrington, sir,” she says, blushing. “And no, Andrea hasn’t given me one yet.” Her face burns red as she speaks to me and her eyes never meet mine. I want to roll my eyes. I don’t have time for this shit. I remember back when Andrea first started. She looked at me with that same look… the look of wanting. She was a bumbling idiot for weeks, until she realized I was no catch to be had. I’ll have to be especially cold to this one until she knocks it off with the hopeful, wide eyed bullshit.
“See that she does,” I tell her. I have some correspondence that needs attention, but I don’t trust this girl. I need Andrea, why isn’t she at the desk?
“Where is she?” I ask and I watch her blush again. Jesus Christ.
“Lunch, sir,” she tells me and I nod. I suppose it is about that time. I should order something. Another positive of having Anastasia in my building, I can make sure she eats. Surely this girl can handle a lunch order, right?
“I’m going to be on conference call for about an hour,” I say shortly, trying my best to keep my gaze hard as I look down at her. She looks intimidated. Good. “I’ll need you to order lunch for Mrs. Grey and me. Two Caesar salads from that place on the corner.”
This is a test. I fired the last assistant Andrea hired when she brought me chicken sandwich without mayo.
“Yes, sir,” She squeaks and I glare at her as I turn back towards my office.
“I’m sorry, sir. The phones were purchased with cash. There is no credit card trail from the store for me to follow,” Barney says ruefully.
“And you’re telling me that none of the CCTV footage is useful?” I ask incredulously.
“I’m sorry sir. I think we’re dealing with more than just your average perp on this one. Every camera pointed towards that store during for the hour that matches the sales record has had the footage erased.”
“Welch, you have to have something. Fingerprints, hair follicles…”
“Sorry, Mr. Grey. Your residence was clean. No sign of forced entry. It looked as though he may have had a key to get in.”
“That’s impossible the only people with keys to that house are the staff, my security and me and Mrs. Gre—”
I freeze. Ana was taken at security which means that she probably had her purse on her, with her keys.
“Mr. Grey?” Welch asks nervously.
“He probably had Mrs. Grey’s keys. I assume she had her purse on her when she got picked up.”
“Does Mrs. Grey keep any codes written down, Mr. Grey?” he continues.
“I’m not sure, why?”
“If she had the code to Escala written down, it would explain how the perp was able to get into your apartment.”
“Hold on.” I say. I reach out for my keyboard and type an email to Anastasia.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Elevator Code
Date: September 3rd 2012 11:35 AM
Do you keep the elevator code to Escala written down anywhere?
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject:Re: Elevator Code
Date:September 3rd 2012 11:37 AM
Yes, I think it’s on the back of the card with the maintenance number on it. It was in my wallet though so I don’t have it anymore. Why? You don’t remember it? It’s 1912 🙂
Commissioning Editor, Grey Publishing
“Yes, Welch. He had the code,” I say angrily. Wait a minute. How did Elena get in? I had the code changed right after Ana and I moved into the new house. I freeze as I realize what that means. This is it, now it’s no longer suspect. I know. Elena was working with whoever took Ana. She knows who it is.
“Taylor,” I say. He’s remained absolutely silent up until this point and I know it’s because he’s feeling the same sense of helpless frustration I am.
“I need you to pay a visit to Elena Lincoln,” I continue. “She was in Escala the day Ana was found and the only way that would be possible is if she had been aiding the lunatic. She had to have gotten the elevator code from him. Find her and get me a name.”
“Yes, sir,” Taylor says and I hear a beep as he exits the conference call.
“Can you recover the CCTV footage, Welch?” I ask.
“It’s possible, sir, but extremely unlikely. It will take me some time to know if I’ll even be able to do it.”
“What kind of time are we looking at?”
“Could take about a week, sir,” he says.
“Do what you have to do, just find the bastard.”
I flip through updates on the construction in South Sudan until I’m interrupted by a knock on my door.
“What!” I snap and Miss Carrington hurries in with my Caesar salad. She sets it on the desk and I glare up at her. “Has my wife eaten?”
“I’ll take hers down to her right now, sir,” She says nervously. I nod and she leaves.
I find it very difficult to work for the rest of the day. My mind is consumed by the unanswered questions of Ana’s kidnapping. My gut feeling that John Lincoln, Elena’s ex-husband, was somehow involved looks to be impossible. I’ve wasted weeks having my team try to hunt the bastard down, but, two days ago, when Welch hacked into his financial records, he found Linc was in the Cayman Islands for the entire duration of Ana’s absence and her kidnapper had definitely been in Seattle. He broke into both my house and my apartment to leave those packages and he said he could see me when I got to pier 66. It’s frustrating because I can’t think of anyone else who could be connected to Elena that would have a vendetta against me. Now we’re back at square one, going over old camera footage and trying to revive a cold trail. I had been so sure of Linc.
Maybe Ana is right. Maybe I should just let the FBI handle it from here. I’ve fought leaving finding Ana’s kidnapper only to the authorities up until this point, thinking my team could get it done faster as they aren’t restricted by the legal system in what they could and could not do to find the bastard. But I’ve almost exhausted all of my resources in tracking him down and the stress of coming up empty handed is turning me prematurely gray.
My office phone rings, pulling me out of my thoughts and I answer it.
“What?” I snap.
“Mr. Grey, I have Jason Taylor on the line,” Andrea says.
“Put him through,” I command.
“Mr. Grey,” Taylor says as he comes on the line.
“Well?” I ask.
“She sang like a canary, sir. Said she was blackmailed into helping some guy by the name of Joseph Walker. That name mean anything to you?”
“No, but it’s about to mean a whole fucking lot, Taylor. Get Welch on it and find him. I want to know where he is and when I do, I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“I’ll get on it, sir,” he says. He hangs up and I feel a dark sense of satisfaction come over me.