Christian POV: Obsession and Bourbon

~ Tara Nichole ~ Leave a comment

Image result for dive bar

I have to skip the gym this morning, something that I hate, and rush to get to Newell Boathouse. It’s our first meetings since Peter Duncan, the former captain of the crew team, was caught with cocaine in his dorm and was immediately expelled from school. I was given his position in a vote called the following evening and now I’m running late to my very first practice as captain.

I’m never late.

When I get to the boathouse, most of the team is already in the locker room. I strip quickly, trying desperately to tune out the conversation between Torres and Reed as I change.

Unfortunately, I’m not very successful.

“How’d it go with that Anastasia chick last week?” Torres asks.

“Perfect,” Reed replies. “I’m taking her out tonight. Show her the town before I show her the greatest pleasure known to womankind.”

“Ha!” Torres laughs. “Right. Have you banged her yet?”

“Let’s just say, we’ve spent some time together and she had a little trouble handling what I have to offer, but she’ll get plenty of practice going forward,” Reed says. I slam my locker door closed and they both turn their attention toward me. I glare between them.

“Go!” I shout at them, and, scrambling quickly to their feet, they hurry to help the other guys on the team get the boat into the river. It’s been a little over a month since I last spoke to Anastasia and nothing has changed. I want her still, desperately, and listening to the asinine things Reed says about her really fucking pisses me off. She seems happy though. Every time I’ve seen the two of them together, she’s all fucking smiles. It makes me sick.

As we push off the ramp and move the boat into position, I watch the synchronicity of the oars in the water, and notice Reed is half a count off on each repetition. When I glance up at him to try and decipher what he’s doing, I see that he’s not even watching the person in front of him but instead keeps glancing over his shoulder to the shore. He even takes his hand off the oar for a minute to fucking wave at someone.

“Reed, pay attention!” I shout at him, and then turn around to see what the distraction is. My gut wrenches as I see Anastasia sitting next to Kavanagh on the hill next to the boathouse watching us. She gives me a slightly guilty smile when she notices me looking at her and it takes everything I have to turn my focus back to the task at hand. Why does she have to be so fucking attractive?

Practice is a wash. Reed never ends up getting back on track despite the valiant efforts between me and the coxswain to call out the count. Because Reed is in the middle, he also fucks up the rhythm of the two guys in front of me and so not only do I struggle to keep the boat steady, but we complete the course in the worse time I’ve ever recorded. When practice is finally over, I’m so pissed I can’t even give notes to the team. The locker room is dead silent as we change back into our regular clothes and several people glare over at Reed. I can see how uncomfortable he is having everyone stare at him and I feel a vindictive kind of pleasure as I watch him rush out of the locker room in such a hurry to get away that he leaves his backpack behind.

An unpleasant thought creeps into my mind. Or perhaps he’s rushing to get to Anastasia?
I snatch the backpack up, walk quickly from the boathouse, and, sure enough, see Carter standing a little ways up the hill from me, talking to Anastasia, who is beaming happily back at him. I feel heat flash across my skin as I look at them and a red tint colors my vision. As I make my way up the hill towards them, I hear her ask him if he’d like to get breakfast with her just before I slam his backpack into his chest with as much force as I can. He wobbles as he attempts to catch his balance and gives me a what the fuck kind of look. I want to smirk at him.

Yeah, I could take him.

“If you can’t learn to keep time, Reed, we’ll find someone who can,” I tell him, my tone icy. I look over at Anastasia, who shifts her gaze uncomfortably between us, and then storm off towards campus. He doesn’t deserve her. He’s unmotivated, pretentious, and misogynistic. If she could hear half the things he says about her in the locker room to his friends, she wouldn’t speak to him ever again. Not that it matters. I still can’t even consider making a move on her until the spring.

Things have been fine with Elena since I’ve cut off all communication with Anastasia. I’ve seen her twice since then and both times went well. Okay, I still haven’t been able to get off without thinking about a certain Miss Steele, but I’ve been careful. Elena is none the wiser.

Maybe I should just fuck her. Clearly I want to, I’m obsessed with the idea. I’m sure that’s what this hatred for Reed is all about, well besides the fact that he’s an arrogant prick. Unfortunately, Kavanagh is still fucking around with Elliot so there is absolutely no way I’d be able to get Anastasia into my bed without him finding out and if Elliot knows, it’ll only be so long before Elena does too. There’s no way around that and it’s that dark notion that plagues me throughout the whole day until my therapy session that night.

Even though I refuse to mention Anastasia’s name, my therapist can tell there is something bothering me that I’m not sharing with him. I try to blame my despondent mood on school, arguments with Ros, and the horrible rowing practice I endured this morning, but he continues to press me. He offers me some psycho bullshit about stress triggering PTSD from my childhood and although it takes everything I have to keep from walking out, I lie and say I agree with him, and grudgingly talk about some of my latest nightmares, embellishing slightly to fit his narrative so I can leave sooner.

Really, I think what would help me the most right now would be to hit someone. Not my kickboxing trainer, who would just congratulate me once I managed to knock his ass to the ground, but someone who wasn’t covered in pads and who I could actually hurt. Someone like Carter Reed. But, once again, I’d never be able to get away with it. Anastasia would tell Kavanagh I beat up her boyfriend, Kavanagh would tell Elliot, Elliot would tell Mom, Mom would tell Elena, and I’d probably get sixteen lashes with the cane this time. No fighting has been one of the rules from the beginning. I wish Elliot would just hurry up and get drunk at a party and fuck some girl like he always does so Kavanagh will break it off with him.

Then it hits me, maybe that’s what I need. A drink.

It’s been years since I’ve really hit the bottle, again due to Elena’s rules, but drinking is something I can easily keep hidden from her. I could go out alone tonight, bribe a bouncer to get into a bar, and drink until I can’t see straight. Even if it doesn’t relieve this anxiety I’ve been feeling… surely it’ll help me forget about Anastasia at least for one night. For one hour even.

I’m decided the moment I get back to my dorm and don’t even take the time to plan my night before I’m heading out to my Audi. I stop at the bank and withdraw some cash, knowing my Dad monitors my bank accounts. A large cash withdrawal will be easier to lie about than a bar tab.

When I’ve got the cash, I drive clear across town until I find a small dive kind of bar that I’m sure no one who knows me frequents and slip the guy checking IDs at the door $500 to let me in.

It’s only ten thirty, still fairly early for a Friday night, so the bar is fairly empty. I like it that way, though. For some reason people in bars want to talk about all their fucking problems and I’m here to forget.

“What’ll it be, son?” the bartender, who is probably in his sixties, asks when I pull up a stool.

“Bourbon,” I grunt, pulling out my wallet. “Leave the bottle.”

“Rough day?” he asks, pulling the bottle out from under the bar and placing it and a glass tumbler in front of me.

“Something like that,” I reply. I throw the cash out onto the bar and then pour the amber liquid into the glass.

By last call, I’m completely out of my mind. The alcohol hasn’t had the effect I wanted and instead of forgetting about Anastasia, she’s all I’ve been able to think about, and the drunken haze makes it seems as though this hopeless situation will plague me forever. Worse, Elena has been sexting me for the last half an hour and it’s difficult to be creative in my responses when I’m this drunk and surrounded by the noise of the now crowded bar. I need to get home, but I don’t want to call a cab because I don’t want to leave my car so far from campus.

After draining my tumbler for the last time, I have a flash of inspiration, so, after sending a response to Elena’s last text, I find Ros’s number in my contacts list and hit the call button.

“Hello?” she mumbles after the fourth ring.

“I nee-ju to come’n ge’me,” I slur into the phone.

“Christian? What’s wrong with you, where are you?”

“’m atta bar. Can’ drive.”

“Jesus Christ, Christian. It’s nearly two o’clock in the morning.”

“I know that, ‘s the time they close. I nee-ju to come’n ge’me.”

“Where are you?” she demands.

“I dunno.” I tell her. Thankfully, while she begins shouting in my ear, the bartender motions for me to pass the phone him and he proceeds to give her the address.

“I’m getting in a cab,” Ros tells me once I get my phone back. “Stay where you are.”

“Mmm-kay,” I reply, and hang up the phone. I ask for another drink, but the bartender tells me they stopped serving so I walk outside to breathe in the cool air while I wait for Ros. It takes her nearly half an hour to get to me and once she finally arrives and I’ve paid for her cab, I can’t tell her where I’ve left my car.

“You’re so…” she begins through clenched teeth, stopping herself from finishing as I’m sure whatever she was planning on saying was going to be quite rude. She presses the panic button on my key fob and follows the sound of the alarm.

“You owe me so huge,” Ros says angrily as she pulls away from the curb back towards campus. “You know I have a meeting with Dr. Jameson in the morning.”

“I had a meeting with Dr. Jameson tonight,” I laugh, and then turn to look at her so I can clarify.

“Whiskey.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just sit back and try not to be sick.”

Getting across campus turns out to be quite the ordeal. I’m realizing very quickly that I’ve had more alcohol than I realized and it’s very difficult for me to stand up straight, let alone walk of my own accord. When we eventually make it to the third floor of Grays Hall, I trip over the top step and slam head first into a wall.

“Jesus, Christian! Are you okay?” Ros hisses, trying to keep her voice low so that she doesn’t wake anyone.

“”m fine,” I tell her, though I immediately stumble again, this time into the opposite wall. Ros groans and takes my arm, putting it over her shoulder and holding as much of my weight as she can manage as we continue down the hall.

“You can keep a secret, right?” I ask.

“Why?” Ros asks suspiciously.

“Because I’m drunk.”

“So?”

“I’ll be in trouble if she finds out.”

“If who finds out?”

“You can’t tell her,” I mumble, stopping to look at her so she knows I’m serious. Unfortunately, the momentum of moving down the hallway was doing a lot to keep me upright and I sag to the floor.

“No, Christian,” Ros grunts as too much of my weight is shifted onto her shoulders. “I’m not going to tell her. Stand up, I can’t carry you. Come on, we’re almost there.”
I do the best I can to get back onto my feet and we begin stumbling awkwardly down the hall until we’re just outside my door.

“I’m not allowed,” I clarify as she stops and begins trying to reach into my jacket pocket. “If she finds out, I’ll be in trouble.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Christian,” she says. “Where are your keys?”
I want to tell her that she has them but realize she’s talking about my room keys and not my car keys. Those are in my pants. Before I can tell her this though, I feel another set of hands on me and a small someone ducks beneath my arm.

“Thanks,” Ros says as she begins searching the pockets of my jeans. I turn to see who has a hold of me and realize, it’s Anastasia. She’s wearing pajama bottoms and a thin camisole tank top, which I can see the outline of her nipples through. They’re perfect, just as I imagined them.

I wonder how they taste?

“Anastasia,” I mumble.

“Yes, Christian,” she says, shifting her body so Ros can pull the keys out of my pants. I smile down at her but am nearly knocked off balance as Ros opens the door and shoves me forward.

“Here you go, Christian,” she says. In tandem they both steer me across the room and let me collapse onto my bed. I want to turn around and look at Anastasia, but my body is too heavy to move. My vision is getting dark and I think I’m about to pass out. All I can do is lie there and listen to them talk about me.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get him here,” Ros says. “I was in bed when he called. He was all the way across town.”

“Where do you live?” Anastasia asks.

“Stoughton,” Ros replies.

I miss the next part of the conversation as the drunkenness overwhelms me and I find myself drifting off. It doesn’t last long though as I feel someone tugging on me. Panic takes over as I feel strange hands on my back and the short spike of adrenaline clears my mind enough that I can roll onto my side and look back at my attacker.

“I’m not going to touch you, Christian,” Anastasia says calmly. “I’m just going to take your jacket off.”

When I see her face, I remember where I am and that it should be Ros here with me, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Where did she go?

“Anastasia?” I ask, confused.

“Yes, Christian. Come on, work with me to get into bed.” She tugs at my jacket again and a smile creeps across my lips.

“You’re trying to take my clothes off,” I observe. “Is that what you want, Anastasia? To take my clothes off?”

“Right now, Christian, yes. I want to get you out of this jacket and your shoes so you can get into bed.”

Heat flashes through me, burning enough of the alcohol away that I am able to regain some control. What I cannot control however, is the erection that grows instantly in my jeans and the thoughts that are now focused only on getting this beautiful woman naked beneath me and hearing her screaming my name while she comes on my cock.
I smile at the fantasy and reach out and tug her onto the bed, rolling over so that I’m on top of her.

“Oh Ana,” I moan longingly. “I wish you knew the things I want to do to you. The things I could do to you. The things I could make you feel.”
“Let me up, Christian,” she says, struggling to get out from under my weight and I look down at her, the nagging voice in my head telling me to release her or face Elena’s wrath. I want to ignore it, but still, I hesitate.

“She won’t always be in charge, you know. One day I’ll be in charge,” I tell her. She looks up at me, her wide blue eyes trying to decipher meaning in my words, and I briefly imagine her, tied by the wrists to my headboard while I run my tongue down her naked body. “Would you like that, Ana?” I ask. “Would you liked it if I told you what to do? If I made you mine?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Christian. Let me up,” she says, but I’m beyond myself now. My fantasies out of control as I feel her heat beneath me. I have to have her, now.

“Mmm, Ana. Let’s just fuck. Right now,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her. “I can do things to you Carter Reed could only dream of doing. Let me prove that to you. Let me make you come, Anastasia.”

“Christian!” she exclaims, pushing hard enough against my shoulders that she’s finally able to move out from under me. I turn to face her, knowing how desperate I look but not caring. The alcohol is catching up with me again and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to sit upright.

“Anastasia, please,” I beg. “I want you, need you. I don’t care what she says. I don’t care what she does.”

“What who does, Christian?” she asks, but I can’t answer. My vision begins to darken and I can only manage her name once more before I’m completely out of it, falling into a vivid dream of all of things I would have liked to have done to Anastasia.

Next Chapter

Christian POV: These Are My Confessions…

~ Tara Nichole ~ 1 Comment

Image result for breakfast

I wake up the next morning with a splitting headache. I have no idea where I am but as I look at my surroundings, I realize, I’m in my room. My mind searches through the hazy memories of the night before. Ros came and picked me up, that’s how I got here, and she put me to bed. No, wait… it wasn’t Ros that put me to bed, it was…

The memory of Anastasia in my bed last night comes to the forefront of my mind. I told her I wanted to fuck her. I actually said that I wanted to fuck her. Shit! Did I fuck her?

I look wildly around the room as if expecting to find her with me still, but I’m alone. I’m still wearing the same jeans and shirt from last night, so that’s a good sign. No… No, I remember now. She got up and started asking me questions about Elena but… fuck, I don’t know what happened after that. I have no idea what I said to her about Elena.

God damn it, my head hurts.

There is a bottle of Tylenol on my bedside table and I quickly slug down three pills and the entire glass of water next to it. Anastasia must have left them for me before she left. Wait… shit. I need to talk to her before she talks to Kavanagh, before Kavanagh talks to Elliot… I came home pretty late last night. Odds are Anastasia hasn’t told her what happened yet and I can head her off before she does.

My stomach roils. I need to eat something and absorb the rest of this alcohol or I’m going to have a shitty day. I’ll take Anastasia to breakfast. Yeah, somewhere out of town where I don’t know anyone so I can find out what she knows.

I climb out of bed and pull off my clothes, which still smell like alcohol, jump in a quick shower, and towel off. I don’t have time to worry about looking presentable so I pull a t-shirt out of a drawer and throw on a hoodie. It’s just after 7, and I have no idea what time the girls normally wake up. Picking up my keys, wallet, and phone, I leave my room without bothering to lock the door behind me and bang on Anastasia’s door.

I wait. I can hear them talking inside but neither of them answers the door so I knock again. A few seconds later, the door swings open and Kavanagh stares angrily back at me.

“What, Grey?” she snaps.

“Is Anastasia awake?”

“No,” she says, and begins to shut the door, but I hear Anastasia call out to stop her.

“Kate!”

Kavanagh turns to glare at me once more before disappearing back into the room and Anastasia takes her place.

“What is it, Christian?”

“Come to breakfast with me,” I tell her. It isn’t a request. Her brow furrows.

“It’s too early, Annenberg isn’t even open yet.”

“Come to breakfast with me,” I repeat, trying to emphasize my need to speak with her in my tone. She looks at me suspiciously for a moment and then rolls her eyes.

“Let me get dressed,” she says, and the door closes. The muffled voices behind the door tell me Kavanagh and Anastasia are arguing about something, probably her decision to come to breakfast with me, but I don’t have time to worry about what is said because after only a minute or so, Anastasia opens the door again, ready to leave.

She’s changed into jeans that hug tightly to her hips and the thin fabric of her sweater brings back the foggy memory of her holding me up in the hallway last night. I saw her nipples through her camisole. Fuck, I wish I remembered that more clearly.

I turn down the hall and lead her to my car in the parking lot closest to our dormitory. If I’m going to win her over, convince her not to tell Kate or Elliot anything about what happened last night, especially if I was a complete fucking moron and spilled the beans about Elena, I need to get on her good side, which at this point will probably be impossible since I’ve taken every opportunity over the last month to be a complete jackass to her. Still, she didn’t say no to leaving with me.

When we get to my car, I open her door before taking my place in the driver’s seat. It looks as though we’re catching the tail end of a storm and I’m grateful for the heavy clouds that block out the sunlight. My head is still pounding.

Once we’re off campus, I turn north towards Medford, because I don’t know anyone in Medford. Anastasia seems confused by the direction we’re driving in but doesn’t say anything until we drive past the fourth restaurant we’ve seen.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Out of town.”

“Why? Are you going to kill me and dump my body?” She laughs, and if I wasn’t so preoccupied by what I may or may not have said the night before, I might have laughed with her.

“You think I would have let Kate see you leave with me if that’s what I was doing?” I ask dryly. She glares at me.

“Glad to see you’ve put some thought into it at least.”

“I know a lot of people in Cambridge,” I explain. “I don’t want to be bothered or interrupted.”

“Or overheard?” she asks, and my heart sinks. Fuck, she knows something.

My jaw clenches together as we continue up the wet pavement and I try and think of a way to ask her what I said last night without giving too much away, just in case I really didn’t tell her anything. She’s quiet as she stares out the window and absentmindedly twirls a strand of hair around her finger. I wish I knew what she was thinking. I need to get her talking.

We turn a corner and the clouds break apart, sending bright sunlight beaming straight through my windshield. I groan and reach over to the glove compartment for a pair of sunglasses. She blushes slightly as my hand brushes against her knee and I groan internally. Why? Why couldn’t I have met her a few months from now when I had the option not to sign the contract right in front of me? Now all I can do is sit back and watch her fall for Carter-fucking-Reed and try desperately to keep myself away from her.

Maybe… Maybe if we were friends, if I could be someone she could confide in, I could convince her what a dirt bag Reed really was. Maybe by the spring, they’ll be broken up and she’ll need a shoulder to cry on, someone to help her through it all, someone to help her forget all about him…

“I’m sorry,” I say after I’ve had a few minutes to formulate a plan. She turns and looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” she asks, and I swallow as I try to think of the most diplomatic way to start.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “You wanted an apology, fine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lost my temper, I’m sorry I touched you, I’m sorry I kissed you. It was wrong, unfair of me, and I’m sorry.” I grip the steering wheel tightly. Sure, I’m sorry I yelled at her, I’ll grant her that, but I’m not sorry I touched her, and I’m not sorry I kissed her. I’m sorry I didn’t do more…

“Um… thank you,” she says, clearly unsure of how she really wants to respond. I turn to look at her so I can read her face. She needs more and, surprisingly, it’s easy to continue now that I’ve started and the apologies come out like a torrent, relieving a lot of the anxiety I’ve been plagued with over the last month.

“I’m also sorry about what I said to you on the quad that day after class. I was cruel and it was a lie. I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you since that day. I don’t want to stay away from you, Anastasia. I want us to be…” I have to stop myself to choose the right word. “Friends.”

“You want to be friends?” she asks skeptically.

“Yes,” I tell her, exhaling as the clarification I have to give comes next. “Look, it’s complicated. I can’t be around you the way that your other guy friends can. I’m not like that Rodriguez guy you know or even Elliot.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, and I realize this question means she doesn’t know anything, well at least that I didn’t say anything about Elena. That’s not the only issue though…

“I’m fucked up, Ana,” I admit quietly. “I’m really fucked up and if you were smart, you’d stay away from me. I tried to stay away from you, to let you be, to keep you away from all of my bullshit, but I can’t do it. I want to know you. I want to be around you and talk to you and listen to you and I can’t keep ignoring you. But there are things about me, about my life, that I can’t tell you and I need you to be okay with that if we’re going to be friends.”

“What can’t you tell me?” she asks.

“Ana…” I groan, and she glares at me, an accusation in her eyes.

“Is it about Mrs. Lincoln?”

“I don’t know how I can make there are things I can’t tell you anymore clear, Anastasia,” I reply irritably.

“So you want to be friends, but you don’t want to tell me anything about yourself and I’m supposed to be okay with that?” she asks angrily.

“Just some things,” I tell her, although I doubt she’ll find any comfort in the sentiment.

“Some things like Mrs. Lincoln?”

“Yes,” I say harshly and she grinds her teeth together as she turns away from me and stares out the front window.

“I’m not okay with that,” she replies quietly, and I actually feel a stab of pain at her rejection. I turn a pleading look on her.

“Anastasia…” I begin, but she stops me.

“No, Christian. I’m not going to try and be your friend when you’re living some secret double life that I can’t know anything about. You’ll be lying to me and I don’t make it a habit to maintain relationships with liars,” she says. Anger flares in my chest as I’m suddenly put on the defensive and my response comes through bared teeth.

“I can’t talk to you because everything I do tell you, you immediately turn around and tell Kate, who is dating my brother.”

“So tell me not to tell her and I won’t,” she says. Thankfully, we’re coming up on a small diner and I’m saved from having to argue with her anymore.

“We’re here,” I say as I pull into a parking place. She exhales exasperatedly but gets out of the car.

The hostess standing near the front doors leads us to a booth by one of the front windows and asks for our drink order. My head is worse now and I’m not sure if it’s from the hangover or arguing with Anastasia, so I order juice, coffee, and water, hoping one of them will do something to take the edge off. Anastasia asks for their tea selections and I take note of her preferences in case I’ll need to know them later. Friends remember other friends’ drink orders right?

Once the waitress leaves, I rub my hands over my face, trying to keep myself alert, and then reach for one of the menus she’s left on the table, though I find myself spending more time studying Anastasia than the menu. When the waitress brings back our drinks and immediately pound down the water and then wait for Anastasia to order. She looks expectantly back at me, silently asking me to go first, so I pick something random on the menu and she settles on a bowl of fruit.

I look at her dubiously. Fruit? Surely she can do better than that.

“That’s it?” I say, glaring at her and when she shrugs, I turn to the waitress. “No, she’ll have whatever your standard breakfast is. Eggs, hashbrowns, toast…” I stop and look at her. “Do you prefer bacon or sausage?”

“I’m really not that hungry,” she argues, but I’m not in the mood.

“Anastasia…”

“Bacon,” she says, rolling her eyes. The waitress clarifies how she wants her eggs while I rest my head in my palms. It’s really bright in here.

“I’ll bring you some more water,” she waitress says, and, without looking up at her, I ask her to bring a pitcher.

“I really don’t need a big breakfast,”  Anastasia says, and I turn to look and glare at her.

“You need to eat,” I say.

She shrugs, but when I turn my head again so that my palms are shielding my eyes from the light, her gaze becomes concerned. “Are you feeling okay?”

“The food will help,” I reply. Reluctantly, I sit up straight, take a deep breath, and do my best to concentrate on the girl across from me.

“What were you doing last night that got you so drunk anyway?”

I hesitate. Well, put up or shut up time, Grey.

“I’ve been having a… difficult week,” I tell her. Difficult month, more like it. “There are some things that have come to my attention that I seem to be having trouble accepting.”

“Such as?”

You fucking Carter Reed.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll get over it.”

“What? Is this one of those things I’m not supposed to ask about?”

“When did you start dating Carter Reed?” I blurt out. She looks taken aback, and frankly so I am I. Where the hell did that come from?

“I…uh, we’re not. I mean, really, we’re not dating just, I suppose technically, uh… we went on a date yesterday.”

They’re fucking.

My jaw clenches as another white hot flash of anger sears through me. I swear to god nothing would make me happier that beating Reed’s face into a bloody pulp.

“What you don’t like Carter?” Anastasia asks.

“No,” I reply, my tone clipped.

“Why?”

I snort. Where do I even begin?

“You mean besides the fact that he seems to have never met a cardigan he didn’t like?” She doesn’t like that response, so I start listing off the first reasons that come to my mind. “He’s regularly late for rowing practice, he can’t keep time, he’s crude and immature, and intelligence-wise, I’m convinced he only got into this school because his father is a legacy.”

And he’s fucking my girl.

I stop. My girl? Where the fuck did that come from?

“I think he’s nice,” she says defensively, and I roll my eyes.

“That’s because he wants to sleep with you.”

There it is, Anastasia. It’s all laid out. Now tell me you already have so I can hunt him down and end him.

She doesn’t though.

“So?” she asks, crossing her arms defiantly. I narrow my eyes, and put the bait out there again.

“So, are you going to?”

“Why would I tell you that?”   

“Because we’re friends now.”

“Are you going to tell me why you’re sleeping with Mrs. Lincoln?”

I feel as though her words slap me in the face. Fuck, maybe I was wrong. Did I say something to her last night after all? No. No, she would have said something before this. Play it cool, Grey.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, and she glares at me.

“I think you do, Christian.”

Oh, thank god. Despite the assertion in her words, there is a hint of doubt in her voice. She suspects, but she doesn’t know. I’ve been here before… I’ve perfectly honed by ability to seem uninterested in Elena Lincoln over years of practice. However, just as I am about to deny her accusation, my phone rings and she gives me a smug look as if a phone call proves she’s right. I look wearily down at the screen on my phone. Thank God, it isn’t Elena.

“It’s my mother.” I tell her, returning her smug smile. She frowns as I answer.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Christian, Elliot just called. Apparently, he talked to Kate this morning and she told him you came stumbling back to your dorm in the middle of the night, too drunk to stand on your own. Care to explain yourself?”

“No,” I say defensively, looking up and glaring at Anastasia. This is why I can’t fucking tell you things, Anastasia. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. I didn’t even see Katherine Kavanagh last night.”

“Christian, why would she say it if it wasn’t true? What could she possibly have to gain?”

“I don’t know, Mom, maybe she’s just a liar.”

“Look, I think maybe you’re just having a difficult time adjusting and we should just add a few extra session with Dr. Fisch until you’re more comfortable at school.”

“No, I don’t need another session.”

“Christian…”

“No, I’m fine, Mom. Look… can I call you back? I’m out to breakfast with a friend.”

“You’re out with a friend?”

“Yes. See, I told you, I’m fine.”

“Well, if you’re sure… I want to talk more about this. Call me back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Christian.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

I hang up the phone and look pointedly at Anastasia who is staring back at me guiltily.

“That’s your fault,” she says eventually. “I didn’t say anything to her. She heard you come home last night, just like everyone else in Grays Hall.”

“Well, I wish she would stop giving Elliot a running commentary on my life. My mom is obviously using him to keep tabs on me and the last thing I need is for this to get back to…”

Fuck. Shut up, Grey! I shake my head and turn to look out the window.

“Back to Mrs. Lincoln?” Anastasia presses me. I take a deep breath but she continues before I can speak. “Last night you kept saying, you can’t tell her, I’m not allowed, if she finds out I’ll be in trouble.”

“I said a lot of stupid things last night,” I say, and to my surprise she blanches slightly.

“Were they untrue?” she asks, and when I turn to look at her, I can see an almost pleading look in her eyes. Wait, does she want…

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and my cock stirs.

“Please stop biting your lip,” I tell her, and she complies but her eyes don’t move away from mine. We stare at one another, her pleading words hanging between us.

She is so beautiful. I’m ready to fuck her on this table and she hasn’t done anything but look at me, well and maybe suggest that she isn’t necessarily opposed to the idea. I allow myself to briefly entertain the thought that, maybe she isn’t. As we stare into each other’s eyes, the intensity between us grows and, once again, she bites down on that delectable lip.

I can’t take it anymore. Not after this last month, not after last night. I need to touch her. I need to feel her against me. Fuck whatever retribution I have to face. In this moment, I don’t care if she personally called Elena and told her that I fucked her in the back seat of my car. I need to touch her.

I reach across the table, grab Anastasia by the hand, and drag her from the restaurant. The car is parked too closely to the sidewalk, too many people to watch, so I move past it. If I’m going to have her, I’m going to have her to myself.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I lead her around the back of the restaurant, but I ignore her. I look quickly to my left and to my right to make sure we’re alone in the alley and, when I don’t see anyone, I push her against the wall, pin her arms above her head so that she can’t touch me, and take her lips with mine.

She tastes like fucking heaven, better than I remember. I pin her hips against the wall with mine, holding her down as I take full possession of her mouth, claiming her, making her mine. She doesn’t protest. She doesn’t try and stop me and her willingness leaves me rock fucking hard.

Shifting her wrists so that I’m only holding her with one hand, I move my now free hand down her arm, caressing the side of her breast as I make my way down to her ass. I want her wrapped around me. I want her completely at my mercy. I pull harshly oh her thigh, bringing her leg up around my waist and pushing into so she can feel how hard I am for her. I want her, here, now, but just as I’m about to reach up for the waistband on her jeans, I stop.

This isn’t enough.

This isn’t nearly enough.

If I do this, I’m no better than Reed. Treating her like some trashy hooker getting fucked in an alley. No, I don’t want that. What I want is to have her, cherished and cared for and completely willing to fully surrender herself to me. I don’t want to fuck her and wonder if Reed will have her later. I want her to be mine, and only mine.

I break the kiss and press my forehead to hers, listening to her desperate panting.

“Christian,” she moans.

“Wait for me.”

“What?”

“Wait for me,” I repeat, and it’s actually a plea. “It ends this spring, and I won’t sign again. Wait for me, Anastasia.”

“What ends?” Her clear blue eyes pierce through me. “I won’t tell, Kate,” she promises and I feel my resolve waiver.

“Please, Christian,” she pleads, and it reinvigorates the fire within me, as if she’s begging for something else… I can’t deny her.

“I’m sleeping with her,” I whisper, and her face goes utterly blank.   

Next Chapter

Christian POV: Change of Heart

~ Tara Nichole ~ Leave a comment

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Anastasia doesn’t say anything or eat her food when we return to the restaurant and her silence continues when we get back in the car and make our way back to Cambridge.

“Please say something,” I plead with her when I can’t take it anymore. She snorts and looks out the passenger side window.

“Anastasia…”

“What, Christian?” she snaps. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say you’ll wait,” I reply. She laughs, but not in a way that makes me think she’s considering the idea.

“You want me to wait?” she asks, looking over at me like I’ve asked her to murder a kitten or something. “So I’m just supposed to sit around pining for you while you screw some woman old enough to be your mother?”

Why was I hopeful this would work? She’s the most desirable girl I’ve met in my life. She could have anyone she wanted, why would she wait for me when I’ve been nothing but a huge asshole to her? Why would she wait for me when she knows now what I’m doing? Well, almost knows… if she actually knew, she’d probably never speak to me again, let alone consider holding out for me. Okay, slow it down. Time for plan B.

“Not exactly…” I begin hesitantly. She gives me a hard, expectant look, waiting for me to continue. “I just don’t want you to disappear.” Or fuck Carter Reed. “I want you in my life, Ana.”

“It’s wrong, Christian, and I’m not okay with it,” she says, turning to look away from me. That isn’t a no… It isn’t a yes, but it isn’t a no. Hope isn’t lost until it’s actually a no.

“You won’t have to know about it,” I tell her quickly, and at least this is true. She knows more now than she should. I can’t tell her anymore. But, as if my attempts to woo Anastasia are being thwarted by divine intervention, Elena chooses this exact moment to call me and, since my phone is sitting in the center console, Anastasia can see who it is. At least I turned my bluetooth off so the car didn’t literally announce her name over the sound system. I glance nervously at Anastasia and she looks as though she’s grinding her teeth together to prevent herself from launching into an angry tirade.

“Well, answer it,” she says irritably. “If you don’t she’ll just call back.”

Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice. Answering every phone call is one of the rules. I glance nervously at the phone… how would she react if I asked her to be quiet?

I decide, it’s best not to find out that answer.

“Hello?” I say when I finally pick up.

“Good morning, Christian,” Elena says brightly, she sounds like she’s in a good mood and usually that would please me, but right now the only person’s mood I’m concerned with is Anastasia. “I just wanted to call and make sure you remembered I’m coming out tomorrow. Andrew gets back from Denver on Monday night so I’ll only be there the one day.”

“Yes, I remember. Sunday,” I confirm, staring ahead at the road. I can feel Anastasia looking at me but I can’t bring myself to look back at her. Under her gaze, I feel, for the very first time, something very close to shame.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and thankfully there is concern rather than irritation in her voice. “You don’t seem yourself this morning.”

“No, I’m fine,” I lie. “I’m just pre-occupied with studying. Can I text you later?”

“I suppose.”

“Thank-you.”

“You’ll be completely finished with all of your school work by tomorrow though, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then have a good afternoon.”

“You too. Good-bye, Elena,” I hang up the phone but continue to keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead. I need to get this back on track… What was I saying before she called? Oh, that she wouldn’t have to know about Elena. Well…

“I’m sorry,” I tell her sincerely, but I can’t tell how she takes my apology because she immediately shifts her eyes away from me and out the passenger window again. I give her a minute but eventually the silence is too much for me. I need to know…

“Will you wait?”

“No,” she says sharply and it’s like being punched in the face.

“Please.” I’m pleading with her, and I the idea is humiliating, but I don’t care. I can’t avoid her anymore, and I can’t watch her fall for Reed either, but she shakes her head, rejecting me again. I’ve lost and the unfamiliar notion ignites a flame within me.

“So that’s it then? We’ll just got back to ignoring each other? I can’t keep pretending to hate you, Anastasia.”

“So don’t. We can still be friends,” she says, finally turning to face me.

“And Carter Reed?”

“I don’t know what will happen with Carter. I mean, it’s up to him really. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me after what happened today.”

“And if he still wants you?”

“Then, I’ll probably have fewer Friday nights available,” she says and I feel my entire body tense with anger. So, my only hope of ever having a shot at Anastasia rests with Carter Reed deciding a kiss in a back alley is worth never getting a chance to fuck her. That’s about as likely as Elena calling back and telling me she’s thought it over and actually she thinks maybe it would be okay if I fucked Anastasia after all.

I pull into the parking lot closest to Grays and we walk next to one another back to the dorm. She’s quiet again, but I’m not worried about what she’s thinking anymore. I know what she’s thinking. I just want to touch her. I reach out and take her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand is slightly chilly in mine, but it fits perfectly there and is unbelievably soft. There is something more to her touch, more than just feeling her skin against mine. I like it.

She looks down at my hand over hers and frowns, then squeezes gently on my fingers and pulls her hand away, tucking it against her chest as she folds her arms together. The need I feel from the withdrawal is immediate and I turn to look at her, wondering why she pulled away from me when the unpleasant voice in the back of my mind reminds me.

It’s because of Reed, you asshole. She doesn’t want you.

My jaw clenches as I walk beside her up the stairs of our dormitory, and just before I reach out to open the door for her, it opens on its own and Carter Reed steps out onto the stoop.

“Ana, I was just looking for you. Kate said you went to breakfast with Christian Grey…” he says, stopping once his eyes fall on me. He immediately looks suspicious, but I ignore him. I need to get out of here before I punch this douche bag in the fucking face. I pull Ana close to me and lean in to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t disappear,” I plead again. She swallows, hard, and I wonder what she’s trying to keep back as I step away. I glare at Reed when I pass and then throw the door to Grays open and stomp up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. I pace across the small space a dozen times, feeling as though I’m literally being driven insane not knowing what is happening between Reed and Anastasia right now. I don’t even know if she’s telling him what happened. What if they’re down there having a sweet moment of reunion, his hands resting on her waist as he presses his lips to hers, in public rather than in some scummy alley or hidden behind closed doors. Perhaps his hands move up to cup the side of her breast and she doesn’t stop him, because he’s allowed to touch her that way.

I pick up the cup full of pens on my desk and hurl it at the wall. It shatters into tiny pieces and sends several pens flying over the floor of my room but it gives me no sense of relief. I need more. I need to hurt something.

I know that sometime this afternoon, I’m supposed to meet Ros to study for our test on Monday, but I have no idea what time it is. I reach into my pocket for my phone and groan as I realize I’m supposed to meet her in twenty minutes. I can’t leave now… I need to be here when Anastasia gets back. I have to know what happened with Reed.

I go into my call log and select Ros’s name from my recent calls. The phone rings twice before she answers.

“How are you feeling this morning?” she asks, her voice smug.

“Terrible,” I reply shortly, “Look, will you come here to study instead of the library?”

“Why?”

“Just, please…?” I ask, and she snorts.

“You’re asking me for another favor? After last night you should be…”

“Ros!” I snap.

“Fine!” she says. “Jesus, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you’re becoming a real pain in the ass.”

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes,” I say through clenched teeth and then hang up the phone. My International Business book is in my bag, so I pull it out along with some notes from class and my Macbook and then sit at my desk with the door to my dorm open so I’ll be able to see when Anastasia gets back. If Reed is with her, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.

It takes a while, but eventually she does come back, thankfully alone, and I scramble quickly out of my seat to stop her before she disappears into her room.

“So?” I ask her as she turns around and looks at me.

“I guess we’re exclusive now,” she says, and my blood begins to boil.

“I see.” My voice is deadly quiet as my hand curls into a fist and I imagine physically ripping Reed apart with my bare hands.

“Anyway,” she continues. “Seeing as we’re friends now, I thought I’d let you know that there is a party tomorrow night that we’ll be going to if you wanted to come. I’m going to ask Kate and Jose too.”

And watch you press yourself up against Reed all night while I wait around like a jackass? No thank you. Besides, Elena flies in tomorrow.

“I have plans tomorrow night,” I reply harshly, and she frowns, presumably because she now knows, generally, what those plans are.

“Well, I hope you enjoy them then.” She replies insincerely before turning around and walking into her room. I grind my teeth together. How has this day been so fucked up, so entirely, in such a short amount of time? I turn around and head back into my room, slamming the door behind me as I look for something else to break against the wall.

It’s dinner time when Ros and I have finally finished working our way through the chapters our test covers Monday and I’m hungry, which makes me even more irritable.

“Do you want to go to Annenberg?” I ask as she packs her things.

“Can’t,”  she says. “I still haven’t looked over those changes you made to the proposal last weekend, so I’m probably just going to order Chinese food.”

“What?” I snap, turning a sharp glare on here. “You haven’t even looked at them? I thought you’d sent them out already!”

“No, Christian,” she replies indignantly. “I have other things to get done you know.”

“I know exactly what you have to do, we have the same classes, and yet I manage to meet deadlines perfectly fine.”

“Well, I sleep every once in awhile.”

“Then I suggest you re-evaluate your priorities. Our work comes before anything, even school.”

“Whatever, Christian. Look, I’ll look at them tonight and send you my notes. Once you make your final approval, either you can send it or I will.”

“They need to go out Monday first thing,” I tell her, trying to subdue my temper. “Do not be late again.”

“I won’t,” she says, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and walking towards the door. “You know I could have done them this morning but you rejected my calendar request to study tomorrow.”

“I have plans tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought our work came before anything?”

“Ros…” I say, and my voice is a warning.

“Have a good night, Christian,” she replies smugly, and then ducks quickly out the door. I glare after her. Easy Grey… There isn’t any point in fighting with Ros. Besides, she’s normally extremely on top of things, I should probably cut her a little slack. I usually wouldn’t be so short with her but this shit with Reed has me all flustered. I need to eat and then maybe go for a run to try and work some of this tension out. Thankfully, Elena will be here tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time I needed a really rough session as badly as I do now.

I consider bringing my books and notes along to study while I eat, but eventually decide against it. I don’t know if I can read the same shit anymore without losing my mind. So instead, I put headphones in and let The Killers distract me from thoughts of Ana and Reed.

Annenberg is crowded when I get there but, like I have some kind of Radar set to alert me whenever Anastasia is near, I see her instantly, sitting at a table with Kavanagh and Rodriguez. Reed isn’t with them so I figure, in an effort to really make a go at this new “friendship” thing, I should have dinner with her. Friends do that, right?

Friends. The word leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

“Anastasia,” I greet her as I take the empty seat on her right. She turns around and smiles, looking happy to see me, and it kills me…

“Hey, Christian!” she replies. She looks radiant when she smiles, what I wouldn’t give to be able to kiss her… But you can’t. You’re just friends. Keep it light, Grey.

“How was your afternoon?” I ask, attempting to sound casual.

“Fine. Kate and I found Halloween costumes and then I worked on my Frankenstein essay. Have you finished yours?”

“Yes, a few days ago,” I tell her. That was finished when a nightmare woke me somewhere around two thirty in the morning and I couldn’t get back to sleep. “I’m studying for an economics test I have on Monday.”

“Are you coming to the Sigma Chi party tomorrow, Christian?” Kavanagh asks, and I watch as Anastasia turns a look on her that says she’d rather Kavanagh had not mentioned anything. Is it because she knows I’ll be with Elena or because the last time I found Ana at a party, she was too drunk to stand? It was bad enough that she got herself into a situation like that at a regular off campus party, but a fraternity…

“A frat party?” I ask, turning my disapproving gaze on her. “You didn’t say it was a frat party.”

“Yeah,” Kavanagh continues as though she hasn’t a care in the world for her friend who clearly can’t hold her liquor and who she’d abandoned to fuck Elliot at the last party they went to together. “Ana’s boyfriend knows a couple of the guys that live in that house and we thought we’d check it out.”

I cringe at the word boyfriend. Of course Reed hangs out in fraternities… “Well regularly drinking with fraternity guys could explain why he seems to be unable to show up for rowing practice on time,” I say, not bothering to hide my agitation, which grows exponentially when I hear Reed’s very unwelcome voice interject behind me.

“No, that’s mostly do to my inability to tell time,” he says, attempting a joke.

“Carter!” Ana says, surprised by his sudden appearance. She gets up from the table and moves into his arms. My teeth grind together so hard, I feel it in my jaw.

“Hey, baby,” he greets her, immediately leaning down and putting his lips on hers in an overly mushy looking show of affection. He’s trying to stake a claim and I would love nothing more than to challenge him on that, but I can’t. So instead, I shove away from the table and stride angrily from the dining hall. I didn’t eat much, but right now I don’t care. I feel like I want to vomit.

When I get back to my dorm, I find myself aching for a drink again. Perhaps I should make a trip to the liquor store. I could probably pay one of the older members of the rowing team to get me a bottle to keep in my dorm. It’s late though and since I don’t know who I would ask anyway, I pull off my jacket, fall to the floor, and do a few pushups to work the anger out of my body. I really should try and get a workout in. I’m too pent up and if I don’t do something, I’ll never get any sleep tonight.

Thirty minutes later, I can hear Ana’s and Kavanagh’s voices in the hallway and I open my door to press her more about this frat party she’s planning on attending. To say I didn’t approve would be a gross understatement. I don’t want her surrounded by those drunk, over-sexed sycophants without me there to watch out for her.

They both turn to look at me once my door opens but Kavanagh quickly diverts her gaze and hurries into their room.

“A frat party?” I ask, disapprovingly.

“Yeah, I would have thought to give you all the details but I know you have other plans,” she says sharply, and I frown. She’s really going to make this about Elena? What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?

“Why did you leave after dinner?” she asks, clearly trying to change the subject. “I liked talking with you.”

“I think our friendship will work better without the involvement of Carter Reed,” I grumble.

“Well, he’s my boyfriend so he’s probably going to be around,” she says. There’s that fucking word again.

“Isn’t it a little soon to call him your boyfriend?” I ask irritably, but she just shrugs.

“I’ve got a lot of essay to finish before the party so, since I won’t see you tomorrow night, I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

Shit, she’s saying good-bye. I try to think of something to stall her, keep her in the hall longer, but my mind isn’t working quickly enough and I have to tell her goodbye before she realizes I’m stalling and it gets awkward.   

“Have fun at your party,” I tell her insincerely.

“You too,” she says, responding out of habit, and the moment she realizes what she’s said she grimaces and shakes her head with disgust. I sigh. I don’t know how we’re going to work with Reed and Elena hanging over our heads at all times.

“Goodnight, Anastasia.”

“Goodnight,” she replies, and she steps into her room and closes the door behind her, leaving me alone and feeling utterly helpless in the hallway.

I feel off the entire day the next day, like I’m missing something or should be doing something I’m not. By the time seven o’clock rolls around and it’s absolutely necessary that I start packing my overnight bag to meet Elena, I’ve been to the gym twice, finished all of my homework, and reviewed the drafts of our business proposal Ros sent back late last night, and I still haven’t figured out what’s bothering me. I check the texts Elena sent me this morning for the third time, confirming the hotel I’m supposed to meet her at and the time her flight lands, as I put some clean clothes in my gym bag and some implements she asked me to bring in my carry on suitcase.

I haven’t forgotten anything. I’m on schedule, ahead of schedule in fact, and yet, I still feel like there is something I’m supposed to be doing right now. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Ana’s light is off by the time 8 o’clock rolls around and I’m heading out of my dorm to meet Elena. She must already be at the party… At least I can take some comfort in knowing she probably won’t be out that late. We have school tomorrow and I’m sure Ana isn’t used to operating on little to no sleep the way I am. Hopefully, it also means she won’t drink too much.

Unfortunately, I picture her and Reed dancing together the entire way to my car, her perfect breasts pressed into his chest or her ass brushing lightly against his…

Wait a minute… They’re dating now. She called him her boyfriend yesterday. What if she plans on sleeping with him tonight? Fuck! I’ve been so preoccupied with the fact that he has her and I don’t, I hadn’t considered that tonight might be the night he actually gets to have her.

No. No, I can’t handle that.

My mind is racing. I know that I’m on my way to fuck Elena and I know that because of this I have absolutely no right to have any kind of feelings or objections to whatever Ana decides to do with anyone, but I do. I really fucking do. I want her, not as a friend, but as mine. I want to be the one she presses herself up against, I want to be the one who gets to kiss her in the dining hall, I want to be the one who gets to take her home and fuck her at the end of the night. I want her, and it’s clear to me now that that want is what is most important to me. But there’s only one way I’m going to stand a chance if I’m going to fight for her.

I’m going to have to stop seeing Elena.

There are clauses in the contract for this, exit clauses that I hadn’t ever considered before. I’d never wanted them before. But right now, thinking about driving to the hotel in downtown Cambridge and fucking Elena just doesn’t… I’m not interested. I don’t want her.

Oh my god, I don’t want her.

There’s only one girl I want and she’s at a fraternity only a few blocks away. I have to go to her. I have to make sure she doesn’t leave with Reed. Whatever it takes, I’m going to win her over. I’m going to make her mine.

I throw my gym bag and suitcase in the back seat of my Audi and peel out of the parking lot, driving too fast down the narrow streets around campus to Massachusetts Ave where I know the fraternity house is. When I get there, I park the car on the side of the road and rush into the house, which is blaring music so loudly I felt like I was standing next to the speaker when I was still out in the street. It’s crowded inside and as I glance around the room, I see about fifty different brunettes bobbing up and down to T-Pain. Maybe I should text her and find out where she’s at.

I pull out my phone, but my eye is caught by one of the blue lights from the strobe twirling around on the ceiling and reflecting off the sequins on Kavanagh’s shirt. She’s just on the other side of the room and I can see Ana standing next to her. I watch as Kavanagh hands Ana her plastic cup, then turns around, and slips through the crowd, leaving Ana alone. Ana rises up on her tiptoes to scan the room as if she’s looking for someone but I’m out of her line of sight. Weaving my way through the party, I come up behind her and lean in closely so that she can hear me.

“Anastasia,” I say to get her attention, and she turns around, looking shocked when she sees me.

“Christian?” she asks, as if to check that it’s really me. “What are you doing here? I thought you were…”

“I know,” I say, cutting her off. “I couldn’t go.”

“Why?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” I tell her but before I can elaborate further, my blackberry vibrates in my hand. Elena is calling me. I should be at the hotel by now… Well, sorry Elena. I can’t deal with you right now. I need to win my girl.

I ignore the call and turn back to face the questioning blue eyes of the girl standing across from me.

“Do you want to dance with me?” I ask, and then I hold my hand out for hers.

Next Chapter

Elena POV: Please Leave a Message…

~ Tara Nichole ~ 2 Comments

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“This is Christian Grey, leave a message.”

I scowl. This is the twelfth time I’ve gotten the voicemail greeting I’m never supposed to get. I wait for the electronic beep and then begin my tirade in a low, angry voice.

“Have I been too easy on you? Is this your way of pleading with me to punish you? Because I promise you, that is what is in store for you. You are now forty-five minutes late, and from this point forward every additional minute it takes you to walk through that door will equate to one additional lash. I do not like to be kept waiting, Christian. You know this and I have no idea why you are now choosing to test my patience.”

I hang up the phone and glare at the door, wondering what possible excuse he could have for being this late, for being late at all. But I never get an explanation because he never shows. By the end of the night I’ve listened to his voicemail a total of 37 times and have left 13 different messages, each more threatening than the last.

The next morning, as I re-pack all my things, fuming over Christian’s failure to appear the night before, I briefly consider driving down to the Harvard campus and finding him in his dormitory, but I don’t have time. Besides, I don’t actually know which dormitory is his, I never thought to ask. I can see now that was a mistake, but, truthfully, I never expected anything like this from Christian. He’s always so eager to do whatever it takes to please me. Now, my perfect little submissive is misbehaving. It’s not like him. In fact, his behavior over the last few months has been strange. Perhaps he was right all along. Maybe Harvard isn’t good for him.

Christian continues to ignore my calls for the rest of the week, and then the week after that. By the beginning of November, I’m so furious I decide to call Grace and find out exactly where Christian lives so that I can deal with him in person. I dial her number and drum my newly manicured fingernails on the marble of my bathroom vanity.

“Elena, I’m so sorry, I’m a terrible friend,” Grace answers.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve really been meaning to call you all week, but with work, and Mia’s dance and cello lessons, and Christian…”

“That was what I was calling to talk to you about,” I interrupt her, attempting to sound concerned. “I’ve been trying to check in with him and see how he’s doing, but he hasn’t been answering my calls.”

“Elena…” Grace says warmly, like my concern for her son is the sweetest thing she’s ever heard. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for the love you’ve given Christian. I don’t know where he’d be if it wasn’t for you.”

Probably shooting up in a back alley like his crack whore mother. “Grace, please…” I reply, reassuringly. “You know how I love all the kids. Now, what’s going on with Christian?”

“Well, a couple weeks ago, he apparently went out and somehow got so drunk he couldn’t stand up straight and had to have a friend practically carry him home. Then Elliot flew out the next weekend so they could spend Halloween together and Christian got into a fight! I just don’t know what to do, Elena. He’s barely taking my calls and he won’t show up for any of the extra therapy sessions I schedule for him. Maybe… maybe he was right. Maybe college is too much for him.”

“He’s an adult, Grace. He has to learn to make it in the real world without everyone coddling him all the time,” I reply, struggling to keep my concerned tone while I silently fume. So he’s been drinking again and fighting? That’s rules three and seven broken as well… Perhaps I was naïve in believing I could leave him alone for extended periods of time. Well, that mistake will end immediately. I’ll have to find an excuse for Andrew but I think I’ll need to make it back East far more regularly. That is if I can ever get ahold of him…

“There is one thing, though,” Grace says, stopping me before I can ask her about Christian’s housing assignment.

“What’s that?”

“Well, Elliot seems to think Christian may have finally taken interest in a girl,” she says, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. My entire body tenses and I struggle to keep my voice even.

“A girl?”

“Yes, her name is Ana. She’s roommates with Elliot’s new girlfriend Kate.”

“And you said Christian and Kate were neighbors right?”

“Yes.”

So if this Ana is roommates with Kate and they’re both Christian’s neighbors, that must make her Anastasia Steele, Christian’s midnight visitor. He lied to me. He promised me nothing had happened between the two of them, that she meant nothing to him and that he had cut off all contact with her. Is that why he’s been ignoring me? Because he’s too busy fucking the little whore across the hall?

Oh, we’ll see about that.

“Well, I think you’re right that Christian is probably having a more difficult transition into college than we may have guessed, but I don’t think there is reason for concern quite yet. Perhaps he just needs to spend some time at home. Will he be home for Thanksgiving in a couple weeks?”

“Yes, he’s promised me he will be. He sent me the itinerary for the flight he booked home a couple days ago. He should be here the 17th.”

“Well it may be good to address all of this with him then, when he’s not so consumed with school work.”

“You’re right. Are you sure you and Andrew won’t make it for Thanksgiving?”

Oh, I’ll be there. But I don’t want you warning Christian first…

“I’m sorry, Grace. Andrew just can’t get out of this business trip. You know how much we both want to be there to share the holiday with you and all the kids.”

“I know, you’ll be very sorely missed. I’m sorry though, I’m going to have to let you go. I have to get Mia to dance rehearsal. She has a performance coming up and she’s won a very important solo.”

“Of course she has,” I say, forcing a small laugh. “Mia was born for the spotlight. Wish her all the best for me.”

“Will do!”

“Good-bye, Grace.”

“Good-bye, Elena.”

I hang up the phone just as I hear the sound of the garage door opening downstairs. Andrew is home from a hard day at the office, and he’ll be expecting his doting wife to greet him. I sigh as I freshen up my lipstick and then head down the winding staircase towards the kitchen.

He’s on his phone when he comes through the garage door, shouting at someone over tree-cutting permits. I wait patiently for his call to end, occupying myself by staring out at the pool through the glass french doors that lead to the back yard. Years later, it’s still a beautiful sight to behold. Unfortunately that has nothing to do with Christian and everything to do with the lawn maintenance company I hired years ago. Christian’s responsibilities have been much more important than landscaping, but for the first time in four years, he’s ignoring them entirely.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Andrew says when he hangs up the phone. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” I sigh. “I spent most of the day at the spa.”

“I’m glad,” he replies absentmindedly as he replies to an email on his phone. “You’ve seemed tense these past few weeks.”

“Mmm,” I mumble. “Andrew, isn’t there any way we could make it back to Seattle to join the Greys for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“I don’t think so, this is a big contract. I need to be there to make sure nothing gets fucked up.”

“Please?” I pout. “Elliot and Christian will be back from school for the first time since they’ve left and we hardly ever even see Mia anymore. She’s been so busy with all her extracurricular activities.”

He sighs and then smiles at me. “You know, with how much you love those kids, it almost makes me sad we did have any of our own.”

“We don’t need any of our own, we have the Greys,” I smile back. “Please tell me we can make it there for Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he acquiesces, and I smile back at him.

“Thank you. But let’s keep it a secret okay? I want to surprise them.”

“Sure, dear. Would you mind if I made a phone call before dinner?”

“Of course not.” I shrug and he kisses my cheek before disappearing into his study. I turn around and look back out at the pool.

Try and avoid me now, Christian Grey.

Next Chapter

Christian POV: I Won’t Say I’m in…

~ Tara Nichole ~ 3 Comments

Image result for table for two

Dr. Fisch’s office is cramped, filled with entirely too much clutter, and smells vaguely of mildew. It’s too warm in here and it makes the leather couch uncomfortable. It isn’t, however, any of these things that has me so on edge. I’m meeting Anastasia in one hour and I’m going to get my answer, good or bad.

“How’s school going?’ Dr. Fisch asks when, ten minutes into my session, I still haven’t said a word. I look away from the clock on the wall, which I had been using to track the seconds of this useless session ticking away. I’m torn whether or not I want time to go faster or stop entirely.

“It’s fine,” I reply.

“Fine?” he asks.

“Yep.”

Dr. Fisch sighs. “You know, Christian, I get paid whether or not you say anything at all to me, but I doubt you sit on this couch three days a week to look at my clock.”

“I’m here because my mother insists that I be here.”

“It must be important to her that you speak with someone then. Why do you think she’s so adamant that you attend these sessions?”

“Because I’m so fucked up.”

“Is that how you think she sees you?”

I stare back at him, stone faced. Sorry, doctor. I’ve done this song and dance with dozens of psychiatrists before you. You’re going to have to do better than, what does my mom think.

I glance back up to the clock and feel myself begin to yawn.

“Tired?” Dr. Fisch asks.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” I respond.

“More nightmares?”

“No,” I reply. I really hate rehashing this same things over and over again. Every therapist I’ve ever seen eventually becomes some kind of dream interpreter and frankly I’m sick of it.

“No, it’s not nightmares,” I continue. “There are other things going on in my life besides dealing with all that shit from my childhood. I’ve got school and finals and…. Okay, I’m trying to start this company and all I need is the startup money, but my parents won’t give it to me because they want me to graduate college. But I don’t give a fuck about college, so I’ve been trying to do it on my own. Well, I have a partner… Anyway, everything was going great. We had some meetings back in October that led to a few small deals and then right before Halloween, we got a huge investor on board, and I mean huge. So huge in fact that we were only a few thousand dollars away from our goal. Ros was already looking for a business to buy while we were waiting for the final contracts to be done and then I’m on my way back from Thanksgiving and everything just falls apart. Once that one investor backed out, the others did too, like dominos, and I can’t stop it. Ros and I are doing everything we can to keep this investor on board, to somehow find a way to salvage this deal, but I nothing is working. But the really fucked up part is that’s not even what’s keeping me up at night. I can’t even focus on the shit I need to get done because I’m too distracted by this girl…”

“A girl?”

“Yeah, there’s a girl,” I grumble.

“Why don’t you tell me about her?” he asks, but when I don’t continue, he gets more specific. “What’s her name?”

“Anastasia. She likes Ana, but I don’t. It’s too… plain for her, but Anastasia is complex and interesting. It suits her.”

“Anastasia is a beautiful name,” he encourages me.

“She’s beautiful. But she’s more than that… I mean at first that’s all I cared about and it was enough to draw me to her all the time, but as I spent more time with her, really got to know, I found that… she’s amazing. She’s smart, you know, like really smart. There was a time a few months ago when we were in class and she made me look like an idiot in front of the professor and the entire class. That usually doesn’t happen and on the rare occasion it does it really pisses me off, but with her, I was just… I don’t know… mesmerized. She works hard, and she’s funny, and she cares for people, and… and she’s good. You know? She doesn’t have a fucked up past that she wears around like some kind of battle wound, and I can talk to her and she doesn’t look at me like a puppy in one of those Sarah McLachlan commercials. I just… I want to be around her, all the time. I think about her all the time. I miss her when she’s not around. I miss her right now.”

“It sounds like she means a great deal to you. Have you considered pursuing a relationship with this girl?”

“Of course I have,” I snap. “I brought her home with me for Thanksgiving and it was going really well and I really thought by the end of break we’d be together but…”

“But?”

“I asked her to be mine and she said she had to think about it.”

“Did she tell you what’s holding her back?”

I glare at him. “I’m fucked up.”

“She told you that she had to think about being in a relationship with you because you’re fucked up?”

“Not exactly, but… yes. I’ve done everything I can to try and convince her but I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“So you’re not in control and, as we’ve discussed in the past, that’s a trigger for you.”

“I’m supposed to meet her tonight,” I say quietly. “She came up to me after our final this afternoon and said she needs to ask me some things before she can decide. I’m taking her out to dinner after this session.”

“Are you worried about what she’s going to say?”

“I’m terrified. If she says no, if she rejects me again… I won’t be able to, I mean… I can’t.”

“If I had to take a guess,” he says evenly. “I’d say you’ve fallen in love with this girl.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I snap. Who is he to tell me how I feel? I’ve never loved anyone. Well… anyone who wasn’t family. Sure, I’m attracted to her and I like spending time with her and the idea of her refusing me tonight feels as though it literally might break me, but I can’t…. no, it’s not…

“Why do you find that ridiculous?”

“I’m interested in success, not love.”

“Oh? Because a moment ago you told me that you have been so preoccupied by your desire for Anastasia that you haven’t even been bothered by the setbacks you’ve experienced in starting this business. It seems to me that you’re very interested in love… or is your desire for this girl entirely sexual in nature?”

“No, I mean, part of it, I just…”

“You just…?”

Fuck, is he right? No, no he can’t be. I’ve never wanted any of that hearts and flowers garbage. Elena showed me what a waste all that was, I mean look at her marriage. She hates her husband… god forbid that should ever be me. But then, if I’m not interested in a relationship outside of a dominant/submissive relationship, even once I’ve moved on from Elena, then what has me so preoccupied with Anastasia? She doesn’t want that, she’s made that very clear, but it doesn’t make me want her less. What do I want with her?

“What are you thinking about, Christian?” Dr. Fisch asks, clearly seeing my inner turmoil etched on my face.

“I don’t know what I want from Anastasia.”

“You said you’ve asked her for a relationship. What does that look like to you?” he asks.

I sit back into the couch and think carefully about his question. I’ve been so concerned about Anastasia saying no, that I hadn’t really imagined what it would be like if she said yes. I’d fuck her first… but even the fantasy that thought conjures is different than I would’ve expected. There aren’t ropes or floggers or ball gags, it’s just the two of us, in my bed. I’d want her naked beneath me, her legs wrapped around me, and my hands holding her face while I kiss her, finally kiss her the way I want to. I want to see how she looks when she comes.

I feel an erection growing in my jeans so I stop my train of thought immediately, but, to my surprise, other images flash across my mind and none of them are sexual in nature. I see her sitting on the grassy hill next to the river, watching me row, smiling and cheering for me rather than Carter Reed. I see her running over the sand on a tropical beach somewhere, laughing as I chase her into the water and scoop her into my arms and spin her around. I see us picking apples in an orchard, and going to movies, and having dinner in restaurants, like the dates she’d been on earlier this year. I see her standing in the front of a crowd of people, applauding me as I cut the ribbon to open my brand new company, and she’s smiling up at me, proud and happy… and yes, in love.

I want that. I want all of that. I want her to be with me, only me, and I want to take care of her and give her everything she could ever desire. I want her world to begin and end with me, the way mine now seems to with her…

“I love her,” I whisper aloud.

“What was that?” Dr. Fisch asks. I look up at him in shock.

“I’m in love with her,” I repeat, and he smiles.

“That’s good,” he tells me. “That’s a great start.” His eyes glance up at the clock and he frowns slightly before turning back to me. “I’m afraid that’s it for today and I won’t see you again before break. But I look forward to hearing about everything that happens tonight in your next session. If you need anything before then, you have my email.”

“Yes,” I say distractedly as I stand up and shake his hand. Fuck, I have to go meet Anastasia. What am I going to do if she says no?

No, that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let that happen.

I leave Dr. Fisch’s office and hurry as quickly as I can across campus back towards Grays Hall. My session went a little long, which is strange since I usually leave early, and I’m running late now. I glance down at my phone, it’s 7:25 which means that Anastasia is already at the restaurant, waiting for me. Shit! It’ll take me at least another 20 minutes to get there…

I look through my contacts list for her number, but before I can hit send, my phone lights up and vibrates with a different incoming call. It’s a Seattle number but not one of Elena’s…

“Hello?” I answer as I pull open the heavy front door of Grays Hall.

“Mr. Grey, this is Henry Eisner from Allied Capital. Do you have a moment to discuss the proposal we went over this afternoon?”

I stop at the bottom stair. Shit, now?

“Uh… Of course. Miss Bailey and I were glad to have the chance to speak with you in person this time, Mr. Eisner. Thank you again for that interview.”

“We’re very impressed by you here at Allied Capital, Mr. Grey, we really think you’re working on something special and have some great ideas.”

“Thank-you, sir.”

“We’re just not sure if now is the best time to make an investment like this…”

“Mr. Eisner, I understand your hesitation, but let me assure you that Miss Bailey and I have completed several market surveys and investigational reports, and they’ve all been conclusive that our aggressive strategy is better suited for this economic climate.”

I’m pacing now, winding through the common room and downstairs kitchen of Grays Hall, and I continue to do so for the next twenty minutes while I do my best to save this deal.

“Look, let me talk again with our research analysts and see if there is anything we can come up with,” Mr. Eisner says eventually. I don’t want to concede, my gut is telling me that hanging up without something more concrete with him is a bad idea, but I’m now forty minutes late to meet Anastasia and I don’t have everything in front of me that I’d need to truly salvage this deal anyway. I need Ros…

“That sounds fine, Mr. Eisner. Please let me know if there is anything else I can provide for you to help your research team.”

“I absolutely will, Mr. Grey. Thank you again for your time.”

My heart is racing when I’m off the phone, this is the one deal we can’t lose. Everything else is dependent on it. We know already that if Allied leaves, then so does Washington Federal and Seattle First Security, and we’ll be left with nothing. But I don’t have time to deal with this now, I need to get to Craigie to meet Anastasia.

I sprint upstairs, grab my car keys, and book it out to my Audi in record time. As I weave my way through the streets around campus and then hit the gas once I’m on the main road, I dial Ros’s number. She doesn’t pick up and I growl as I hit redial. Thankfully, this time she answers, but I’m already pulling up alongside the curb in front of the restaurant. I wonder briefly if Anastasia is even here, I’m nearly an hour late…

“I’m. At. The. Gym. Christian,” Ros pants into the phone as I get out of the car, she sounds like she’s on a treadmill. “Can. I. Call. You. In. An. Hour?”

“No, I just got off the phone with Henry Eisner and I think they’re backing out. We need to meet with them in person, tomorrow if possible.” I have to pull the phone away to give the host my reservation name and he looks at me irritably as he turns to lead me towards the back of the restaurant.

“I have a final tomorrow and I’m supposed to be in San Francisco by Friday. My parents will flip if I tell them I’m going to Seattle.”

“Fine, I’ll do it alone. Just use your contacts at Allied to get me a meeting,” I tell her. I can see Anastasia now and she frowns when I take the seat across from her.

“I don’t know if I can do that, I mean, I’ve already…” Ros begins, but I cut her off.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think you can or cannot do, Ros. Get me the fucking meeting. We can’t lose this deal!” I hang up the phone. Anastasia looks up at me worriedly for a second. She’s done her make up again and her hair falls gently around her face in loose waves. She looks like heaven.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I tell her, and then because my tone is still to brisk I add, “You look beautiful, Anastasia.”

“Let’s just order,” she says, her tone just as short as mine when she picks up a menu. I watch her nervously while she makes her selection and I’m so preoccupied trying to get a read on her that I have to make a hasty decision when the waiter appears to take our order.

“How did your finals go?” she asks after we’re alone again, and to my relief it seems as though some of her irritation has faded away.

“Fine,” I tell her. “I didn’t have much trouble with British Literature and I think I have you to thank for that.”

“It was a fairly easy final,” she says, blushing. The blush adds the perfect amount of color to her cheeks. “I guess we won’t have any classes together anymore.”

“I suppose not,” I say regretfully. This means that I won’t be guaranteed to see her anymore if she says no tonight… I push that thought away. I’ve already decided I won’t let that happen.

“Have you signed up for your classes next semester?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply, but, again, my tone is short. I don’t want to talk about school, I want to talk about her decision. I want her answer.

“What are you taking?”

“Is this really what you wanted to talk to me about, Anastasia?” I ask, and she frowns at me.

“No, but… I do like just talking to you, Christian.”

Fuck, stop pissing her off, Grey. Just answer her damn questions.

“Prerequisites,” I tell her, and, although she seems to accept my answer as enough, I get the feeling she was hoping for more. Perhaps she’s just as nervous about this conversation as I am… Well maybe I can reassure her.

“What can I tell you that I haven’t already, Anastasia? I can’t change the past. It has nothing to do with you or us. It’s just something I used to do and now I don’t.”

“How did it start?” she asks, not looking up at me. You have to be honest with her, Grey.

“When I was fifteen, I was out of control. I’ve told you this. My mom didn’t know what to do with me, I was getting expelled from school for drinking and fighting, and I wouldn’t listen to a single thing either of my parents said. When I got expelled again, I had to stay home for a while until my mom could find a new school that would take me. She didn’t want me sitting around the house acting like I was on vacation so she called Elena and asked if she had any work around the house I could do. She did and so the next day, I went over to move some river rock she was having installed around her pool. It was hot, sweaty work and I was miserable, but when Elena brought me something cold to drink, instead of acting grateful, I gave her my typical smart-ass attitude and she hit me, hard, across the face. I was shocked by the contact but even more so when she immediately grabbed me and kissed me. Everything in my body, all the pent up frustration, came alive. When she let me go, she slapped me again and it felt really good. She told me to come back the next day and she’d have something else for me to do. Three weeks later, my first contract was signed.”

“And you like it? The hitting, I mean,” she asks.

Not really. Sometimes, but mostly, I just put up with it because it pleases her and when she’s pleased she allows me come. Ana doesn’t want to hear that though, so instead I go with, “Liked, Anastasia. Past tense. I had planned on moving on in the spring when my contract was over anyway.” Well, moved on might be an overstatement. I’d have switched roles with her I guess is more accurate, but again, she doesn’t need to know that.

“Moved onto what? A normal relationship?” she asks, and I my jaw tenses. Of course she wouldn’t let me get away with it.

“No. I’d never envisioned a normal relationship until I met you.” And really not until about an hour ago.

“So you want to become someone else’s submissive or you would have become a dominant?”

“A dominant.”

“To who?” she asks, and I hear trepidation in her voice, like she expects the answer is her. Unfortunately, I think that answer would be better than the truth.

“Elena,” I tell her, and she looks away from me again.

“And she would just do that?”

“Yes, Elena has experience on both sides. She likes playing the Domme better but to keep our agreement, she was more than willing to play the submissive.”

“So what do you want now?”

“I want you, Anastasia. I’ve told you this.”

“But do you still want to be a Dom?”

Honesty, Grey. “Yes.”

“You want me to be your submissive?” she whispers. She’s scared, I can see that in her eyes, but I can ease that. I don’t want anything she doesn’t.

“Not if you don’t want to,” I assure her.

“But you want me to?”

“Part of me… yes,” I reply. “I’m attracted to this lifestyle, Ana. I find it pleasurable and it was always what I had envisioned for myself if the time ever came when I left Elena.”

She looks back at me blankly for a minute and then her bottom lip begins to quiver slightly. “This isn’t going to work,” she says.

 

Fuck, what did I do? No!

“What do you mean?” I ask, panicked.

“I mean, we want different things. You’re caught up in this lifestyle that I want nothing to do with Christian and my expectations of you, of what I would want our relationship to be, are unrealistic.”  

No, no it doesn’t have to be. Get this back on track, Grey.

“Anastasia, I’m out. I’ve left it behind. It’s you I want, anyway I can have you. It won’t be like that.” My words come out too quickly and they sound like a plea. Why is it every conversation I seem to have with her feels like I’m fighting for my life?

“For how long?” she asks.

“What?”

“For how long will you be okay giving it all up? You say you’re fine with it now but what about in a week, or a month, or even a year, Christian?”

It won’t matter, time doesn’t matter because… I love you and if you agree to be mine, I’m never going to let you go.

Easy. Don’t freak her out.

“Anastasia, you’re over complicating this. This isn’t about any of that shit. This is about us. I want you, only you. Sure, I’ve been interested in that lifestyle in the past but you’re not. I accept that. Please, Anastasia.”

“I don’t know, Christian.” I’m going insane, I wonder briefly if she could ever have any respect for me if I got on my knees.

“What can I do?” I ask instead. “What do you need me to do to prove to you that it’s all over? That it’s only you now?”

“I don’t know. Look, I won’t say anything now… maybe I’m rushing this.”

I can’t do anything with that! “Anastasia, tell me what to do.”

“Time,” she says. “Give me time.”

Her answer is so exasperating it creates a physical reaction, which is possibly why, when the waiter places the check on the table, she’s able to reach out and take it before I am. I watch her quickly slip her credit card inside the black book and hand it immediately back to the him. What the fuck just happened?

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m paying,” she says firmly. “I don’t want your father thinking I’m only interested in you for your money.”

“You think I give a fuck what my father thinks?” I ask angrily as I remember the lecture I was given in my father’s office over Thanksgiving. I swear to god if I lose her because of his stupid, misguided concerns, I’ll never speak to any of them ever again.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ana replies with a shrug. “But I do.”

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to get a grip on myself as the waiter returns Anastasia’s card and she signs the receipt. She thanks him and then stands from the table. I mimic her, trying to calm myself as we leave the restaurant together. I know that being frustrated with her indecisiveness is only making things worse.

“Where are you parked?” I ask, and she points a few spaces down to a sky blue colored Mercedes with license plates that say “Kate”. I assume that means she doesn’t have a car.

She begins looking through her purse for her keys and I feel a stabbing pain of longing. She’s leaving and I’m not ready for her to go.

“When will you know?” I ask, stopping her before she can leave without giving me anything to go on.

“Soon. I hope,” she says, turning her wide blue eyes back to me. I want to say something to make her stay, or better yet, something that will make her come home with me, but before I can think of anything, my phone rings. I consider ignoring it, but if it’s Ros, she has my answer about that meeting… Then again it could be Elena.

I reach into my pocket to look at the name on the caller ID, it is Ros.

“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath, and then turn an imploring gaze on Ana. “Don’t leave yet, please.”

She nods and I take a few steps away from her and answer the call. “Ros?”

“I did it. I’m a miracle worker. We’ve got a meeting. You can begin worshiping at my feet whenever you’re ready.”

“Really? Excellent. In person?”

“In person.”

“When?”

“Well… that’s kind of the thing. They want to meet with you at 9 AM tomorrow so you’re going to need to get on a flight tonight. I can see if I can delay but…”

“No, don’t delay,” I say, interrupting her. “I’ll be there. We need to get this cemented before anything else can get fucked up.”

“God speed then,” Ros says and I hang up the phone without another word, then turn back to Anastasia. If I’m leaving for Seattle tonight, this is the last I’ll see her before next term. How far away is that? Three and half weeks?

“What are you doing for the holiday?” I ask, secretly hoping she’s staying behind again so that I can fly her out to Seattle with me. It’s a fool’s hope, I know the dorms close over Christmas break.

“Going home to Vegas,” she says, and, even though I expected this, I still find myself disappointed. I could possibly fly down to see her but she said she needs me to give her time. Besides, my pressuring her seems to be having the opposite effect of what I want. I almost lost her tonight, I don’t want to get in that situation again.

“And this is what you want? Time?” I clarify.

“Please,” she nods.

“No interference from me at all?”

“No, I need to make this decision on my own.”

No interference means no visits, no phone calls, no text messages, no emails… I was planning on changing my number over the break to stop Elena from calling me fifty times a day, maybe in a week or so I could call her, just to give her my new number. Just to hear her voice….

I look down at her, so beautiful as she stares up at me. Her lips look petal soft tonight and I’m aching to have them against my own.

“I want to kiss you,” I admit, and, as if she’s trying to rub salt in my wounds, she bites down on that delectable lower lip of hers, taunting me. She leans forward, and softly presses her lips against mine, just enough that I feel the warm pleasure spread quickly through my body, but not enough that I feel satisfied. When she steps back, I feel bereft.

“Goodbye, Christian,” she says, and the words sound so final coming from her lips.

“Anastasia… please don’t say good-bye.”

She looks down at her shoes for a beat and then sighs and turns for her car. I watch her slide into the driver’s seat, fasten her seatbelt, and then pull slowly away from the curb. She doesn’t look back.

“I love you,” I whisper into the darkness, then exhale harshly as I make for my own car.

I curse my stupidity as I pull into the parking lot and see Kavanagh’s car parked a few spaces ahead of mine. Why didn’t I hurry after her? We could have walked back to the dorms together and I could’ve had more time. I read an email from Ros on my blackberry as I walk back to Grays Hall to pack, she’s found a red eye flight from Boston to Seattle and booked it for me. I click the link in my email box to verify the itinerary, but, before the pop-out screen comes up, my phone lights up with a call from Elena.Jesus Christ, how the fuck don’t you get it yet?

I ignore her call and climb the stairs to the third floor. When I get to my room, my phone vibrates again and I pull it out, thinking that maybe this time I will answer Elena’s call just to scream at her, but it isn’t Elena, it’s a text from Ros.

 

Hey, do you want me to drive you to the airport? I’m finished studying for the night.

 

Sure. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.

          

I open my door and immediately begin packing, mostly just carelessly throwing things into the suitcase but double checking to make sure I have a suit for the meeting tomorrow morning. I don’t know if I’m going to have time to stop by my house and shower, in fact, I probably shouldn’t since I’m not supposed to be in Seattle until tomorrow night… Maybe I’ll get a hotel once I land.

When I’m finished packing, I hurry out of my room and lock the door behind me, pausing for a moment to glance at Anastasia’s door. Their light is on and I can hear their voices but I can’t distinguish what they’re saying. I wonder if Anastasia is talking to her about me, and whether or not Kavanagh is on my side. I’m sure she’s going to be around my house all break, perhaps I should start making an effort to be nice to her. I nod and then turn down the hall, dragging my suitcase behind me as I think of ways to win Kavanagh’s support.

Next Chapter

 

Christian POV: Vegas

~ Tara Nichole ~ 1 Comment

Image result for bellagio

The casino floor in the Bellagio is crowded, packed full of drunken men, scantily clad women, and desperate people throwing dice across tables or placing bets on Roulette. I shouldn’t be here. I promised Anastasia I would give her the break to think over her decision without any interference from me, but I can’t take the silence or distance any longer. I miss her. I want to see her. So here I am, waiting in this congested casino for her like some kind of obsessed psychopath.

I stare at a new group of people coming up the wide center aisle, adding to the already too full feeling of the room. The longer we’re down here, the more anxious I get. I’ve never done well in crowds. Too many people pressed together means too many opportunities for me to be touched. As one particularly unsteady girl stumbles past me, I nervously inch closer to the table at Elliot’s side.

“Where are they?” I ask irritably.

“I don’t know, probably getting ready… fuck, fourteen,” Elliot replies looking down at the card he was just dealt. The dealer is showing a ten, so Elliot asks for another card, which ends up being a Queen, and he busts at 24. “Jesus Christ, this is not my night… I guess if I’m going to get lucky it’s going to have to be after Kate gets here.” He shoots me a pointed look and a wide grin spreads across his face.

I roll my eyes. “Kate must consider herself a lucky woman to have found a romantic such as yourself.”

“Yeah… oh shit! I left my condoms in my bag! Christian, go next door and buy me a box. Magnums,” he says with a cocky grin, and then adds in a low voice that I would associate with a television advertisement for a sex hotline, “Ribbed for her pleasure.”  

“Fuck you, Elliot. Buy your own condoms.”

“What about you? Are you finally going to seal the deal with Ana? I mean, that’s why you’re here right? You’re not old enough to do anything cool here so I can’t imagine why else you would have come.”

If I only I could be so lucky.

“I just want to see her,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re going to be a virgin forever, dude,” he says, and then turns back to the dealer. “Hit me.”

I turn away from him, glancing around the crowded room again, but I don’t see any sign of the girl I haven’t been able to get out of my mind all week… well, all semester really. My fingers twitch as for, the billionth time, I consider calling her, but, before I can either work up the nerve to do it or talk myself out of it, my phone vibrates all on its own in my pocket. I’m not hopeful it’s Ana, she doesn’t have my new number. In fact, the number of people who have my new number is so low now that I don’t even have to look at the name on the screen to know who’s calling me.

“Ros,” I greet her, as I silently get Elliot’s attention and motion to him that I’m going to head over to the elevators, where it’s more quiet, to take the call.

“Alright, now I personally don’t have any contacts at BMO but the daughter of the vice president of my dad’s company is sorority sisters with the niece of BMOs director of finance. That’s the best I can do and I don’t know if it will help at all. We’re going to have to go into Barclays, RBC and Lazard the regular way.”

“Michael Collins is the president of Barclays Capital and he’s a Harvard Alumni. I’ll look and see if I can find out if he still has any close relationships with a professor we could have recommend us and help get us a personal introduction. I met Hal Scott at a young entrepreneurs summit last spring and he’s on the board of Lazard. Hopefully, he was as impressed with my presentation on Diminishing Returns and Behavioral Economics as he said he was and I can use that to get a meeting. We’ll have to look harder for something with RBC. I don’t want to go into this blind with them and be put through the ringer for nothing.”

“Alright, I’ll keep looking,” she says. “And I’ll get in touch with my contact so we can get started on BMO. You’ll take care of Barclays and Lazard?”

“Yeah, I’ll have something drafted and sent over to you before I leave for Aspen on Friday.”

“Great, I’ll talk to you later than.”

“Bye.”  I hang up the phone and look dubiously out towards the casino floor. I really hope the girls have shown up, I’m ready to get out of here.

I weave my way through the crowd, following the path of least resistance and sliding in between people as best I can so that no one touches me. When I get through the majority of people standing and drinking in the ring around the actual gambling area, I scan the room for Elliot and… I see her.

Her hair is teased high above her head and falls around her face in a billowing cloud of rich, chestnut curls. She’s wearing perhaps a little too much make-up and it detracts a little from how naturally beautiful she is, but I’m too distracted by what she’s wearing to really analyze that too closely. Her dress is black and hugs so closely to the delicate curves of her body I have to use very little imagination to picture what’s just underneath the thin fabric. The hem falls just a few inches past her perfect ass and, in conjunction with the sky-high black stilettos she’s wearing, her legs look like they go on forever. Just looking at her gets me hard and in that moment, standing far across the room, I allow myself to hope that I’ll be able to take her back to my hotel room with me tonight.

I walk forward onto the gambling floor and when Elliot sees me, he calls out and waves his arm to get my attention. Ana turns to face me, looking surprised, and I see the sparkle of light reflect off the diamonds dangling in her ears. She’s wearing my gift. That has to be a good sign, right?

“Hello, Anastasia,” I say as I reach out for her,and she hesitates for a moment, but then reaches out and takes my arm so that I can lead her off the casino floor and down the long hallway that goes to the strip. I worry, as we make our way to the line of cabs waiting outside the main doors, that Ana is going to trip over her shoes, but she seems to manage them okay.

Once we’ve secured a cab, we head north up the strip towards the Wynn for dinner and then back to the Bellagio to see Cirque du Soleil, “O”. Both Elliot and I have seen this show several times as it’s my mother’s favorite, but neither Ana or Kate have, so while the actors perform their amazing acrobats, I find myself mostly watching Anastasia. I want to talk to her, to get a feel for where her head’s at, but we haven’t been alone all evening. Looking at her now, as she watches the performers with excitement and awe, I really, really want to lean over and kiss her. I’m entranced by the smoothness of her lips.

When the show is over, and it’s time for us to head over to Chateau, we take the sky bridge over Las Vegas Blvd to The Paris, and as we make our way to the entrance of the resort, I notice Ana staring up at the Eiffel Tower replica with amazement. I wonder if she’s ever been to Paris. I really don’t think so, she hadn’t mentioned any foreign travel over Thanksgiving, even though my Mom was constantly talking about the trip to Greece they had just taken for their anniversary.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask her as I grip tightly to her hand and subtly pull her closer to me. “The real one is immeasurably more magnificent.”

“I’d love to see it,” she says, looking up to me, and I smile back at her.     

“Perhaps I’ll take you there,” I say. I would love the opportunity to show Anastasia the world. We could travel Europe, take in the different cultures, dine on world class cuisine, and I could fuck her in all of the world’s most famous cities.

That is, if she says yes.

I think she’s picturing the same things I am because when she looks away, her teeth sink down into her full bottom lip and the visual resonates in my groin. Oh what I wouldn’t give for the chance to bite that lip.

We head through the doors of the Paris and up the stairs to Chateau where Elliot’s old childhood friend Carmichael Bishop is working the door. We’re very briefly held up but Elliot was right, Carmichael or “Big Mike” as he now apparently goes by, lets us through with little hassle. The hostess leads us to a table on the terrace overlooking the strip and brings us a bottle of Grey Goose and a bucket of ice. It’s slightly breezy up this high and I feel Anastasia shiver next to me.

“Are you cold?” I ask.

“She’ll be fine. She just needs some alcohol in her,” Kate interrupts before she can answer. She hands Ana a tumbler filled with vodka and lime juice and Ana rolls her eyes as she takes it and settles into the seat next to me. An hour and three cocktails later, Kate can’t stay still anymore and she pulls Ana out on the dance floor.

I watch her carefully, chuckling slightly as I catch every time she nearly stumbles in her shoes. I’m completely enraptured by the way her hips sway back and forth and the image the movement conjures is… intriguing. The temptation of her short dress is driving me wild, only just concealing from me what I want most. Unfortunately, as I glance around, I see several other men who look as though they’re thinking the same thing. It’s irritating to say the least. I should get up and dance with her myself, stake a claim, but I’d rather have her here next to me so that we can talk. If I can get her answer, if she says yes, then fuck the rest of the night… I’d have her back in my hotel room and wrapped around me as soon as possible.

I scowl slightly at my single minded train of thought. I’m supposed to be here for her answer, but the way she looks has me so… unfocused. Or maybe that’s just the effect she has on me. The Ana Effect.

“Go dance with your girlfriend,” I yell over the music to Elliot as the waitress places another round of drinks on the table.

“Why?” he asks.

“So I can talk to Anastasia,” I tell him. He gives me a strange look but eventually shrugs, drains the glass the waitress has set in front of him, and heads out onto the dance floor. A few seconds later, Ana comes back to the table and I hand her drink to her and move as close to her as I can so that she can hear me over the music.

“Your dress is very short,” I say, reaching out and dragging my finger up her thigh to the hem of her skirt. Only a few precious inches away.

“Kate picked it out,” she replies. Her voice is breathy and I wonder if it’s the dancing or the alcohol, or maybe, just maybe, it’s my touch…

“Your shoes too?” I ask. “I was worried you might fall while you were dancing they’re so high. You would have given everyone here quite the show.”

“Is there anything you like about what I’m wearing?” she asks.

“You’re earrings are lovely.” I reach up and brush my thumb over the diamond dangling from her ear, the diamond I gave to her.

“I was going to give them back…” She says hesitantly. “Kate convinced me to wear them tonight.”

Give them back? No.

“I’m glad she did. Why would you want to give them back? You look beautiful in them.”

“You were over-generous,” she says. “I shouldn’t accept such expensive gifts from you. Not when I have nothing to give you in return.”

I frown. Doesn’t she understand how much she means to me? Haven’t I shown that? I’ve pursued her, taken her home to see my family… Hell, I’ve even begged her to be mine. She has the ability to give me everything with just one word.

“There is something you can give me,” I tell her and she raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Your answer.”

Her lip quivers slightly and for the briefest moment, she breaks eye contact. Fear rushes through me. Shit, have I rushed this? Is she about to say… no?

“Why haven’t you answered my calls or the texts I’ve sent you?” she asks, and her question takes me by surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve called you. Several times.”

Fuck, really?

“I’m sorry, Anastasia, I had no idea. I changed my number when I got home for break so I haven’t gotten any of your calls.”

“Why?”

“So certain… people… wouldn’t have my number anymore,” I say diplomatically. It was bad enough having Elena calling me twenty times a day in Cambridge, but that would have been a disaster under my mother’s hawk like focus. Besides, it’s over between us and after the shit she’s trying to pull with my Dad about Ana, I think it’s better that we don’t talk for a while.

“People? Like, Mrs. Robinson?” Ana asks, and my gut clenches. Why does she have to be so perceptive on the Elena issue?

“For instance,” I reply.

“So… why didn’t you give me your new number?”

“You told me you wanted time to think without any interference from me. No contact. I thought I was giving you what you wanted.”

“I was worried you were mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know… because I didn’t have an answer for you before you left. Kate said you’ve been moody since you got back.”

Yeah, my business is being taken out from under me and I can’t be in my house for more than a few hours at a time without Elena trying to corner me. Besides, listening to Elliot and Kavanagh fuck through my bedroom wall every other night has made being apart from you even worse than I’d originally imagined, and now that I know I’m in love with you, your hesitance has been driving me fucking insane.

“Yes, well, there have been some problems that I have been unable to resolve over the last few weeks,” I tell her.

“Such as?”

“Do you remember what I told you about Ros and I?”

“That you’re starting a company together?”

“Yes. We got several investment deals back in mid-October that were going to allow us to leave Harvard and start up our company by June. After Thanksgiving, we lost one major contributor and, one by one, the other investors started to pull out. I went home to Seattle early to try and salvage what I could, but in this economic climate, people aren’t willing to take a chance on a couple of college students with big ideas and no experience.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means, that I’m going to be at Harvard for a while. Both Ros and I have enough in our trust funds to start up, but unfortunately both of our parents are adamant that we will not get access to those funds until we have college degrees.”

“So, what if you don’t graduate?”

“Then my parent’s foundation will become several million dollars richer.”

“That’s harsh.”

“That’s Grace Trevelyan-Grey.”

“But you’d need to stay at Harvard anyway, wouldn’t you? I mean, even if the investment deal had gone through. If you left Harvard, you wouldn’t get your inheritance.”

“What’s a few million dollars compared to a multi-billion dollar empire?”

“You’re that sure of yourself?”

“Unequivocally.”

“So… you’ve been in business meetings all week?”

“Some of the time.”

“What about the other times? Kate said you’ve been out with a friend.”

“Did you think I was out with another girl?”

“Well… Sort of.” And the way she hesitates tells me exactly who she’s thinking of.

“You thought it was Elena?” I clarify, and she nods.

“I’ve told you before, Ana. I’m through with her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to accept that so she’s been sitting at my house waiting to corner me since I’ve come home. I find the easiest way to deal with it is by staying out of the house as much as possible.”

“You won’t be able to avoid her forever, Christian.”

“I know. Eventually, she’ll have a new Sub and we’ll move past this. It shouldn’t take long. Elena isn’t a patient woman.”

“So that’s it then? Nothing’s changed since we last spoke?”

“Nothing’s changed, in regards to the way I feel about you anyway.” I wait for her reaction to that and, as if I’m being given a sign from heaven itself, she nods and takes a deep breath.

This is it.

“Then my answer is… yes.”

It takes me several seconds to absorb what she’s just said and even though the word echos in my head over and over again as if she’s shouted it down a long, empty cavern, I feel as though I still can’t comprehend the words.

“Yes?” I ask, needing her to say it again for me to believe her.

“Yes,” she repeats, and I can’t do anything but stare back at her with disbelief.

Yes, she said yes. She’s actually said yes.

She’s mine.

I reach out and place my hand on the back of her neck and pull her into me, kissing her hard, pouring the jubilation I feel into her. She kisses me back, equally as eager, and it eggs me on. Her passion means this is real. She really is mine, and suddenly the kiss isn’t enough. I need her around me, writhing beneath me. I need to be inside of her. Not because of the dress or even because of the few cocktails I’ve had sitting here watching her dance, but because I need to be close to her. As close as it is humanly possible to be.

“Get a room,” Elliot says as he and Kate sit in the booth across from us. I pull away from Ana to glare at him. We need to get away from the two of them. I need to get Ana alone. I turn back to her, giving her an imploring look.

“Come back to the room with me,” I ask quietly, and she nods. Another yes. I stand from the table and take her hand to help her get to her feet.

“Where are you going?” Elliot asks.

“Back to the room,” I tell him offhandedly as I pull Ana away from the table. Kate yells something about fireworks after us, but I ignore her. I’m single minded in my need to get Ana into my bed. Excitement I don’t know if I’ve ever felt before fills me as it really sinks in that I’m finally going to get to indulge in her for the first time. As we take the stairs down to the first floor of the Paris, I’m already hard, just with the anticipation.

I’m going to make this the best night of her fucking life. I’m going to please her in a way no man ever has been able to before. I’m going to make her come over and over again until her body can’t take it anymore.

When we get back to the Bellagio, we rush forward to get the elevator and once the group of people flood their way through the doors, I usher Anastasia inside. The doors slide closed, leaving us alone, and I take advantage by pinning her against the wall, securing her hands above her head with mine, and then taking her lips again. She tastes like heaven, sweet with a hint of citrus from the lime in her drinks. I push myself into her and when she moans at the feel of my erection against her leg, it takes every ounce of self-control I possess to simply not take her right there, against the wall. I resist though, because I need this to be perfect. Still, I reach down and pull her leg up around my waist so that I can press myself further into her, let her know what’s waiting for her in just a few short minutes.

When the elevator pings, announcing we have arrived at our floor, and the doors slide open, I release her and pull her eagerly out into the hallway. I have to relinquish her hand when we get to the room to pull the key card out of my wallet and just the brief amount of time I’m not touching her leaves me aching. When I get the door open, I turn around and pull her inside with me, staring hungrily at her body and then claim her mouth again as the door closes behind her.

“Do you have any idea how much I want you, Anastasia?” I ask against her lips.

“No,” she breathes, and I smile at the need I can hear in her voice. She wants this just as badly as I do.

“Let me show you.”

I take her by the hand and lead her into the bedroom off the small living room suite. When I let her go so that I can remove my shoes, socks, and shirt, she moves to the window and stares down at the dancing fountains below. The view from this room really is extraordinary, the perfect setting for our first time together.

I come up behind her and wrap my arm around her waist. “Let’s get you out of this dress,” I whisper as I reach up for her zipper and press my lips gently against the perfectly smooth skin of her neck. Fuck, she smells good.

I tug the zipper and it slides down only a fraction of an inch before Ana suddenly worms out of my arms and cries out to stop me.

“Wait!” she says, and she turns around to look at me with something close to panic etched on her face.

Wait? No! What the fuck is this? I thought she…

“What is it?” I ask, the confusion in my voice apparent.

“Well… it’s just that, um…

Oh god, she’s backing out. “You don’t want to fuck?” I ask, and the confusion turns into fear. If she’s saying no, maybe she’s changed her mind all together. Fuck, what did I do?

“No, it’s not that, I just… well. Okay, um, Christian, before we… um, before we make love, I think you need to know something.”

“What?” I ask uneasily.

“Okay, I, uh… I haven’t done this before.”

“Done what?” I ask again, and then I realize that this might actually be moving faster for her than it ever has before. She dated Carter Reed for what… almost two months and she’s already told me they never had sex. “This hardly counts as having sex on the first date, Ana, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ve known each other for months, and have had several dates if that’s what you wanted to call them.”

“No, I have done any of this before. Sex, I mean,” she clarifies, and for the second time tonight, it takes me a minute to comprehend what she’s saying. She’s never had sex before? Like… at all?

“You’ve never had sex?’

“No,” she says again.

“You’re a virgin?” I ask, my voice made weak by the confusion and utter incredulity that grips me.

She nods and we stare at each other for a minute while I try and wrap my head around this. I just don’t understand…

“How?” I ask.

“What do you mean?’

“How? How have you avoided sex? You’re beautiful! You’re everything. I’ve been dying to have you since I first laid eyes on you that day you asked me about the stupid name tag. How has someone never taken you to bed before?”

“I’ve just never met someone I wanted. Not until you.”

The fantasies that I’ve pictured nearly every day for the last few months suddenly change as I try and work through how I need to approach this. I hadn’t considered this being a possibility and really, I’m not even sure what to do with a virgin. I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t know how careful to be. Should I wait to do some of the things I’d love to do to her until she gets more accustomed to sex? I don’t even know what’s new to her and what isn’t…

“But, you’ve done other things,” I press her.

“Not really.” She shakes her head.

Nothing? Nothing! What do I…? Fuck! I run my hands through my hair as I try and work through what my next move should be. I still want her, desperately. Maybe I just… start slow. Let her ease into it before I really start to fuck her. Maybe if I make her come before I’m inside of her, it’ll be easier. Yeah, I can test her then. See how responsive she is.

“Christian?” Anastasia asks tentatively, but I can’t stop myself from pacing.

“I don’t…” I begin, and then it hits me. She’s a virgin and that means no one else has had her before. She’s really giving herself to me. She’ll be mine. Really mine. Only mine. I look up at her. “What do you want to do, Anastasia?”

“I, uh…”

“Do you want to do this?” I ask.

“Yes,” she whispers, and although her voice is weak, there is resolution there too. “I just wanted you to know before…”

It’s all the affirmation I need. I close the space between us, wrap her in my arms, and kiss her again. My hands rake over her body, desperate to feel her, all of her, as they move up and yank down the zipper on the back of her dress the rest of the way. My fingertips brush over the skin on her shoulder and gently ease her dress down her body until it falls to the ground. She isn’t wearing a bra, only a pair of delicate, lace panties. She’s already exposed to me, and she’s beautiful.

I reach down and scoop her into my arms, holding her against my chest as I carry her to the bed. I lie her down over the golden bedding, then crawl over the top of her and lower my lips to hers again. I feel her hands at my side, gripping tightly to the comforter, so, without breaking the kiss, I reach down and lift her arms above her head, keeping my hands on her forearms to see if she’ll move them once I let go to explore her body some more. When I’m sure she won’t, I drag my fingers down her arms as I peel my lips away from hers and travel slowly down her chin, and then the delicate curve of her neck. The more my lips continue on, the more she squirms beneath me. She’s already so responsive to my touch and it makes me smile to think of how she’ll be when I reach my destination. Perhaps she doesn’t even know how great it’s really going to be.

“Don’t move, baby.” I tell her as I reach down to hold her slender hips in place. I leave a trail of kisses from her collarbone and down her chest until I reach her impeccable breasts. I would like to sit back and simply marvel at them, really appreciate how beautiful they are, but I’m beginning to ache for her, I need to be inside her, and so I simply run my tongue up the side of her breast before taking her small, pink nipple into my mouth. She takes a short, harsh intake of breath and then cries out as I suck hard, circling my tongue around it, and then gently graze it with my teeth until it stands erect.

She’s moaning and with each carnal sound that escapes her lips, I feel my cock grow harder. I reach down to slide my fingers beneath her panties, feeling my way along her enticingly smooth skin until I find her clitoris. As I begin to tease her, stroke her in time with my tongue on her breast, her hips begin grinding up into me, then squirming away from me as she fights to move away from the pleasure that’s overwhelming her. Is she about to come? I move over to her other nipple, using my teeth on her once more, and she lets out a long, high moan that cuts off with a series of short gasps. She’s coming. I’ve made her fall apart, though I’ve barely touched her, and it makes me feel ten feet tall. Her cries of pleasure belong to me and I want them.

I leave one last kiss on her nipple before moving up to her mouth, kissing her deeply and muffling her screams with my lips. When her hips stop quivering and her breathing slows back down to normal, I pull away and give her an amused smile.

“Already, Miss Steele?” I ask her. “You’re very responsive. I like that. I like that a lot. I can’t wait to show you what I can do to you, Anastasia.”

She looks back at me, still panting and looking utterly lost. She’s completely stunning as she comes down from her orgasm and immediately, I want another one. I want to make her come again and again.

I sit up, reach for her high heels, and begin unbuckling the straps. I’m going to move her to as many places in this room as I can before I lose her to sleep, and I don’t want her tripping over them. It’s a shame though, her legs look really great in these shoes.

“These are unbelievably sexy, Anastasia.” I tell her as I slide her right shoe off and move to the next one. “But as much as I’d like to have them over my shoulder, I think we can do without them. I want to be able to move you and I don’t want you struggling with your shoes while I fuck you.”

She gasps and then quickly reaches up to remove her earrings, an attempt to help me undress her faster, but I don’t want her to take them off. They are the first gift I’ve given her, the first thing she accepted from me. They are a reminder that she belongs to me.

“Don’t,” I tell her. “I want you to keep those on.”

Her hands fall to her sides just as I remove her other shoe and I lock my gaze onto hers as I run my thumb up her instep and then take her toe into my mouth. She moans approvingly as I gently bite down on the pad and then move to her other foot.

“Christian!” she cries, and she tilts her pelvis up towards me, an unconscious motion begging me to take her and give her release. Well I’m not interested in subliminal gestures, if she wants me to fuck her, I want to hear her say the words.

“What do you want, Anastasia?” I ask.

“You. Please. Now,” She replies incoherently, and I smile.

“So greedy.” I lean down to claim her lips again and she kisses me back so fervently that I have to break the kiss before her enthusiasm breaks my patience and I just start fucking her. I’m not done warming her up. The more I do here, the more intense it will be when I finally sink inside of her and I want to feel the intensity of this orgasm I’m bringing her to around my cock.

“Let’s see if you’re ready.” I begin to lower myself down her body again, leaving kisses on her collarbones, each of her breasts, and her hips before I make it to her panties. Getting to reach under the thin lace band,slowly roll them down her legs and over her feet, and then stare down at this new part of her is better than Christmas morning. She’s utter perfection. I bring the lace fabric up to my face, inhaling her intoxicating, carnal scent, and it stirs the animalistic need inside of me.

“So sweet,” I growl as I reach down and tuck her panties in my pocket, and then lower my lips to her inner thigh. She mewls slightly as I leave a trail of kiss up her leg towards my reward. When I get there, I lower my lips onto her and roll my tongue around her clitoris, and she cries out again. I moan against her as I reach up and slowly ease my fingers into her. She’s soaking for me. She’s hot and wet and I can feel how tight she is just around my fingers. Feeling her, knowing what’s waiting for me, I lose all sense of restraint. I have to have her… now.

“Oh, Ana,” I moan, as I move my fingers around inside of her. “You are so ready.”

“Christian,” she pleads, and I groan with approval

“I like hearing you call my name, baby. I like hearing you beg for me.”

“Please,” she whimpers, and I roll off of her to stand next to the bed.

“I take it you’re not on the pill?” I check. If she hasn’t been sexually active, it’s not very likely that she’s on birth control.

“No,” she says quickly, and I see a look of concern cross her face. Apparently, she hadn’t thought about contraception.

“I think Elliot has some condoms in his bag,” I reassure her and then walk back out to the living room and the couch where Elliot left his suitcase. Thankfully, I don’t have to dig for them. I reach into the box and pull out a single blue foil packet. Blue foil? Magnums my ass, Elliot.

I throw the box back into the suitcase and then go to the door to drop the deadbolt to prevent Elliot from being able to get in here. When I get back to the room, to Anastasia still sprawled out, naked and panting with need, it’s as if I can’t get to her fast enough. I throw the condom down on the bed and quickly begin undoing my pants. When I reach over to pick up the condom again, I notice Anastasia staring at me with a look of trepidation, her eyes focused on my cock.

Right, she’s a virgin. I suppose an erect penis can be intimidating this close the first time.

“Don’t worry baby, you can’t take it,” I reassure her as I open the foil packet with my teeth. While I ease the condom onto my cock, she watches me, mesmerized, and her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

Yes, finally.

I lean down and push her back into the pillows, crashing my lips down on hers as I possess her with my tongue, and then I capture her bottom lip between my teeth as I pull away.

“You bite your lip often,” I tell her. “Do you know how erotic it is? What it does to me? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about fucking you on the desk in Brit Lit because you were biting down on this delectable lip while you read.”

She reaches forward and pulls my lips down to hers, kissing me passionately until she’s reached her limit.

“Christian, please!” she cries, and it’s exactly what I wanted to hear.

“Do you want me, baby?” I ask as I reach down and position my cock at her entrance.

“Yes!”

“You’re sure you want this? You don’t want me to stop?”

“No, god no! Please, Christian!” she begs, but before I fulfil her request, I glance up at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 11:51. Better make this quick.

“By the end of this night, I will have fucked you on every surface of this hotel room,” I promise her and then I thrust my hips forward and bury myself inside of her.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” I hiss, as I feel myself break her virginity. I’ve never experienced anything so tight around me and I nearly lose it right then and there. She feels like fucking heaven and I want nothing more than to move, to completely lose myself in her, but I can feel how tense she is with me inside her.

“Are you okay? Did that hurt?” I ask.

“I’m fine,” she replies with a tight whisper, but I don’t entirely believe her. I need to take it slow. Let her adjust and stretch around me before I really get to fuck her. I ease back and then push forward again, slower this time, and continue this pace until her face relaxes and she begins grinding against me.

I move faster, thrust harder, and soon she’s whimpering and screaming with pleasure. I wrap my arms around her more tightly as I fuck her, hard, and she gasps and pushes her breasts up into me.

“That’s it, baby. Feel me.” I lean down and kiss her, but once my chest presses against her, she pulls her lips away from mine.

“Take your shirt off,” she begs, and the muscles in my arms tense defensively. What if she reaches up and touches me?

“I won’t touch you. I just want to feel you against me,” she assures me, as if she can read my thoughts, and I thrust again as I try to decide if I trust her to keep her word when she comes. As she cries out again, her head thrown back in ecstasy and her breasts arching up, I realize that I too want to feel her pressed against me, skin against skin, and a low growl escapes my lips as I reach up and yank my t-shirt over my head. She feels incredible, her skin hot against mine as I continue to pound in and out of her.I can feel her start to tighten around me and her body begins to tense. She’s close.

“Christian!” she moans, breathing heavily from exertion now. I feel the quickening inside of her begin and it brings me right up to the edge. I’m just about to come, but I need her to finish first.

“Come for me, Anastasia,” I urge her, and she screams once more as she falls apart beneath me. It’s exquisite. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as this woman when she’s coming, her insides gripping my cock tightly, over and over again until I explode.

“Fuck!” I yell, thrusting as hard as I can while I pour myself into her. When it’s over and we’ve both come down, I roll over and collapse onto the bed next to her, slipping off the condom and dropping it into the black bin next to the nightstand.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Ana,” I breathe incredulously. I’m completely drained. I can’t even remember the last time I had an orgasm that satisfying. She doesn’t say anything to me so I turn to look at her. She’s glowing, her dark hair a chaotic riot over her pillow, but her eyes are closed.

“Are you okay?” I ask, worried for a minute that I was too rough at the end and that I’ve hurt her.

“Okay?” she repeats, and she lets out a low breathy laugh. “I’ve never been this good in my life.”

“That was pretty fucking incredible,” I agree. “We’re perfect together, and now, you’re mine. In every way.”

“Yours,” she says, a slow, delighted smile creeping across her lips, and I feel myself light up like the Fourth of July hearing her say it. The Fourth of July? Fuck, what time is it? I look back up at the alarm clock.

11:59.

“Kiss me,” I say after turning back to her, and I lean down to press my lips to hers again. She begins to kiss me back just as the low sound of chanting drifts up into the room from the street and the sky outside is lit up with fireworks.“Happy New Year,” I tell her, staring down into her blue eyes. She looks up at me and I can’t read the emotion in her eyes but for some reason I have the overwhelming urge to tell her that I love her.

Too soon, Grey. Have some dignity for fuck’s sake.

The fireworks stop and the only noise left is the muffled sound of cheering and the low hum of Auld Lang Syne floating through the glass window across the room. I smile down at her and then roll over on top of her again, pressing my lips to hers as I wrap my arms around her and prepare to carry her off to the living room to find the place I’ll make love to her for the first time this year.

Next Chapter

Linc/Carrick/Grace POV: Come Again?

~ Tara Nichole ~ 1 Comment

LINC

I can still remember the day I met Grace, Carrick and their two sons, Elliot and Christian. Elliot was a very happy child who always loved to tell you everything he knew about everything and about anything that had happened to him that day. He loved to be the center of attention. Christian on the other hand, only four at the time, mostly just clung to Grace. He didn’t speak, he didn’t even look at me at first.

He warmed up to my wife more quickly. It only took only three meetings with him before he willingly went into Elena’s arms and let her hold him. I thought Grace was going to cry as Elena smiled down at her son, too small for his age, and he reached up and grasped a lock of her platinum hair and began twirling it around his tiny finger.

It took him nearly a year to warm up to me at all, and even then he would only come near me if I offered him a piece of candy or something to play with. But Carrick assured me that he’d had difficulty with Christian too. Christian just didn’t trust men. So I would watch my wife laugh and play with our best friends’ beautiful baby boy from across the room, and, even though I didn’t know if I’d ever get to have a bond with him the way I did with Elliot and eventually with Mia, I was happy to see her enjoy the love of a child.

From the moment they met, Elena was always extraordinarily protective of Christian. That’s why it wasn’t odd to me when she had him over to try and help him when he was in high school, or when she called him after he went away to college, or even when she’d openly questioned the motives of the girl he’d brought home for Thanksgiving in front of Carrick and Grace. She worried about Christian, about what any kind of further trauma would do to him, and that’s why she tried so hard to talk to him about this new relationship during Christmas. Why she was so adamant with Carrick and Grace on our family vacation to Aspen… But that facade of concern I’d imagined was falling apart all around me now. A perfectly constructed illusion shattered by a single accusation from the girl whom Christian loved.

He’s not your submissive anymore, and he’s never going to be again… Get it through your head, you’re never going to fuck Christian again.

“What did you just say?” I manage to breathe out through the shock at the girl in the black satin ball gown. Ana’s wide blue eyes, suddenly full of fear, turn to face me, as do the shocked gazes of Christian and the woman I’ve shared my life with for 25 years.

“Andrew, please. The girl is delusional,” Elena says, laughing at the ridiculousness of what she’s being accused of, but the guilt of being caught in Anastasia’s eyes is undeniable. This isn’t a lie.

“Is it true, Anastasia? I mutter roughly, feeling as though my throat is suddenly filled with gravel. “What you just said… is it true?”

Again, she doesn’t respond. She just stands before me, shaking slightly, and seeing her there, looking terrified, speaks to me more than words ever could. But before I bring Christian’s parents into this, before I do what has to be done, I need someone to say it.

“Christian?” I ask.

The scared little boy who has grown into an intelligent, capable young man, looks first to Anastasia, then to Elena before finally looking back to me, visibly warring with himself over what to do.

“Christian, is it true?” I ask again, finally finding strength in my voice.

He swallows hard, looks me dead in the eye and says, “Yes.”

The word seems to echo through the hall around us, sending everything I’ve ever known or believed crashing to the ground. I knew about Elena’s past, that before me she’d dabbled in BDSM relationships, but I always thought that was about money. The men she submitted herself to paid for a lifestyle she could not afford. But, when she met me, when she fell in love with me and I offered her everything she’d ever wanted and more without the pain and the humiliation she’d suffered at the hands of the men she’d slept with before, I thought she was glad to be rid of that lifestyle. I thought it was all in the past. I never thought for a second that she could… not with the little gray eyed boy that Grace had already once saved from a life of abuse.

Well, I could save him now. I could put an end to this, and I would.

“Carrick!” I yell, turning around immediately and sprinting back up the hallway for the dining room where I know Christian’s father is waiting for us all to return. I can hear Elena call out after me, pleading with me as she chases me across the lobby, but I ignore her. The very sound of her voice is sickening.

 

Carrick

“Can I have ice cream for dinner?” Mia asks. She’s found the dessert section in the back of the menu and she’s looking hungrily at a huge, chocolate covered sundae.

“Why don’t you try something that won’t make you sick, huh?” I tell her, chuckling slightly. She grimaces and flips back to the entree section. I focus on my own menu, trying very hard to ignore Kate and Elliot canoodling next to me, even though Grace and I are both ecstatic to see him finally settling down with a girl.

Both of my son’s are in love, I think proudly, and then frown. Something is wrong with Christian tonight. He seems upset and I don’t know if it’s school or Ana… but they both disappeared just before we sat down at the table and they’ve been gone a disconcerting amount of time. I hope they’re not fighting… I know from experience that Christian can be cruel when he’s angry. I don’t want him driving Ana away, she’s been extraordinarily good for him.

There is a commotion just outside in the lobby and I turn to face the dining room doors, but it isn’t Christian and Ana I see, it’s Elena and Andrew. He’s walking purposefully towards me while Elena pleads with him to stop and listen to her.

“Carrick, I need to talk to you,” he says angrily.

“Please, Andrew… no! You don’t understand. It’s not what you…” Elena begs, gripping onto the arm of his tuxedo jacket, but he shrugs her off and pushes her roughly to the ground. I jump immediately to my feet and grab onto him.

“Andrew, what are you doing?” I demand, as Kate rushes around the table to help Elena to her feet.

“Do you have any idea what has been going on between my wife and your son?” he asks, eyes blazing. My brow furrows with confusion as I glance over at Elena and then back to Andrew.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that my wife has been using your son to fulfil her perverted BDSM fantasies.”

“What?”

It feels as though a bucket of ice water has just been dumped down my back. Surely, I misunderstood him. Andrew looks over at Mia, who looks more confused than any of us, and then leans in to speak quietly in my ear to prevent her from overhearing him.

“Elena has been fucking Christian, but not just fucking him. She’s been beating him, torturing him, forcing him to do all kinds of twisted sex things to her.”

The feeling of cold immediately blazes away as I hear the absolute certainty in his voice and anger begins to rise within me. I’m swimming in a cocktail of emotions: hurt, betrayal, confusion, disgust… but what prevails is anger. I’m consumed by fury, deep fiery hatred for the woman Kate is still holding onto, too shocked to register that her fingers are still wrapped around her arms.

I glare at Elena, the woman we’ve trusted with our children when we were away, who we invited into our homes for holidays and celebrations, who we’ve brought along on family vacations, who we trusted to help Christian when he was falling off the rails… Oh god, is that how this started? Did we send him right into her trap? Is that why he turned around so entirely, she was raping him and beating him into submission, leaving him too terrified to act out again?

This is going to kill Grace, and I mean it might literally kill her. I’m not going to be the one to tell her. This disgusting bitch who has paraded herself around as Grace’s own best friend and closest confidant can reveal her betrayal herself. And then I’ll rake her across the coals and throw her into prison where child molesters like her belong.

Elena stares back at me, something close to panic in her eyes, and I lunge at her, grabbing her roughly by the arm and throwing her at Andrew, too sickened to drag her up to admit her crime to Grace myself. Thankfully, Andrew understands immediately and he pushes her forward as I storm out of the dining room for the elevators. Surprisingly though, Elena seems just as eager to grab on to me, to pull me back, as Andrew is to ensure she doesn’t make a run for it.

“Carrick, please, please no!” Elena pleads. “It’s not like that, you have to listen to me.”

“Get the fuck out of my way you disgusting bitch!” I scream at her, pushing her back and pounding on the elevator call button. I turn to look back and Kate is hugging Mia tightly to her side, trying to comfort her by rubbing her arm, while Elliot just stares at the three of us in complete shock. The elevator doors open and I follow Andrew, dragging a horrified looking Elena inside, and begin pounding on the round number seven. As the doors close, I can see Christian and Ana step into the lobby and my son, the boy I’ve loved and protected for fifteen years, looks back at me, pale as a ghost.

 

Grace

I glance nervously down at my phone on the bathroom vanity, just waiting for it to ring again. I’m already running so behind and I feel a wave a guilt flash through me as I think about my family eating dinner in the hotel dining room rather than the restaurant Carrick made reservations to all because I’m not ready to leave. I peel my eyes away from my phone to brush mascara over my lashes. I should be happy. Jonathan, the eleven year old boy who has been on dialysis for nearly two years under my care, is finally going to get a kidney. I’ve promised him this day would come soon every time he’d been brought back into the hospital and, over the last few months, I could see the hope begin to fade in his eyes. I’m finally going to have the chance to save him and that is the most important thing, even if it means giving up more time with Christian.

At least we have tonight.

I set down the mascara and search through my makeup bag for a tube of lipstick, but am distracted by the sound of my hotel room door banging open and my husband calling out my name.

“Grace!” he yells. Oh no, he sounds angry. I drop the bag in my hands and hurry out of the bathroom, seeing Carrick looking so furious that he’s panting and Andrew gripping firmly to Elena’s arm. Her gaze is pleading with me… pleading for what?

“What’s going on?” I ask, but Carrick doesn’t say anything he just turns his angry glare on Elena.

“Tell her,” he growls.

“Carrick,” Elena whimpers, but her plea elicits a low growl from her husband and he shakes her violently.

“Tell her!” he demands.

“Please, Andrew… it’s not true. This is all a misunderstanding! Don’t do this!” Elena begs, but her reaction only seems to further enrage her husband.

“Tell her what you’ve done, Elena!” The way he looks down at her scares me. But, before I can ask what’s going on, my attention is drawn by Elliot, Christian, and Ana walking through the still open door. Elliot crosses the room to my side quickly and he too glares at Elena. He’s angry too, so angry I can feel him shaking next to me.

“Tell her!” Andrew screams again. “Tell her what disgusting things you’ve done to her child.”

And suddenly, I’m enraptured. Whatever this is, whatever has happened, has happened to one of my kids.

“My child? What’s going on?” I ask. My eyes flitting to first Elliot and then Christian. They look fine.. but Mia isn’t here. “Oh my god, Mia!” I cry out. “Where’s Mia?”

“It’s not Mia,” Carrick growls, and, although I feel the briefest sensation of relief, it’s immediately wiped away when my husband’s eyes dart up to look at Christian.

“Christian? What’s wrong with Christian?” I ask, trying to examine him from across the room. He’s not looking at me, he’s staring at a bracelet around Ana’s wrist, and I know from past experience, if he won’t even look at me, it’s bad.

“Tell her!” Andrew snarls again, but when I turn to look at them, Elena simply presses her lips together. Andrew tenses and answers for her.

“It turns out your best friend has been fucking your son,” he says.

“Wha-” I say, my voice breaking off before I can get the word out. I look around the room in shock, looking at each of their faces. This can’t be… I mean, this is Elena. This is my best friend…

“She’s roped him into that BDSM shit she used to be into. I’ve just heard Ana yelling at her downstairs about how Christian isn’t her submissive anymore and she’ll never fuck him again.”

My breath freezes in my chest as the weight of his words hit me. My mind is racing, my thoughts coming too quickly for me to find anything coherent. I look up at Christian, who is looking at me again, waiting for my reaction, but as I look into his eyes, trying to find the truth, he looks down at the floor and I know it isn’t a lie.

“Oh my god!” I choke. My knees buckle and Elliot has to reach out and grab hold of me to keep me on my feet. My breathing comes in shallow, horrible gasps and I’m suddenly overcome by a wave of nausea. “I’m going to be sick,” I murmur.

“Grace,” Elena says, her voice the same kind, worried tenor it is when she’s trying to reassure me about the kids. “Look, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me!” I snap disgustedly, looking up at her and seeing nothing but red. “As if any apology could make what you’ve done okay. Oh my god, I trusted you! I left my kids with you!” I’m screaming, shaking, as I’m forced to wonder if I allowed this to happen in my own house… and then another terrible thought crosses my mind. “Oh my god, Elliot! Did she…”

“No!” Elliot exclaims, shaking his head vehemently. “I didn’t know anything about this.”

I feel the a fleeting sense of relief, but it isn’t enough to wash away the devastation I feel for my other son. My son who was broken. My son who was so wounded and hungry when I got him we were all surprised he was alive. My son who still can’t bare to be touched, even by me, the person who loves him so completely that I’m consumed by it. This is the son she chose and as the realization that this is all really happening hits me, tears spring to my eyes.

“Christian?” I scream back her, so beyond hurt at this point I’m bewildered. “You knew. You knew everything he’d been through. You saw how that trauma affected him. You saw how horrible his teenage years were because of what had already happened to him. How could you?”

As I stare at the woman before me, murderous rage seeping through my every pore, her pleading demeanor changes. Her eyes harden and she glares back at me.

“Why do you think it stopped?” She asks venomously. “You didn’t really believe it was all your psycho-therapy bullshit did you? I put a stop to his self-destructive behaviour and now look at him. He’s at Harvard! He’s everything you ever wanted him to be because of me!”

The red in my vision darkens until I can’t see anything and the next thing I know I’m on top of her, hitting her as hard as I can, pulling at her, literally trying to rip her limb from limb. There is only bloodlust in me now, so potent I can taste it, and I continue my attack until I feel a pair of arms wrapping around me and yanking me away from her.

“Mom! Mom stop!” Christian yells. “She can press charges!”

“Not if she’s dead!” I scream back. “Let me go! I’m going to fucking kill her!” I do everything I can to escape my son’s grasp, but soon it’s not only his hands that restrain me and I’m pulled further backwards by both Christian and Carrick.

“He’s right, Grace,” Carrick says, trying to calm me. “We don’t need to make this messy.”

“What the fuck do you mean, messy?” I scream back at him incredulously. “Don’t you realize what she’s done to our son? How can you just stand there and do nothing?”

“I’m not going to do nothing. I’m going to handle this the right way. Elliot, you need to call the police.”

Elliot nods and reaches into his pocket for his cell phone, but Elena begins screaming at him before he can dial.

“What? What do you mean police?”

“You’ve been brutalizing my son! I know what that lifestyle entails!” Carrick yells, and I’m glad to finally see some of the rage in him that has overpowered me.

“Everything I did, I did with his consent,” she snarls. “He’s not your innocent little boy, Carrick. He wanted it. He begged for it. He liked it.”

I’m going to murder her. I fight against Christian’s grip again, focused solely on destroying this horrible monster in front of me, but I can’t escape. All eyes turn to Christian, and I see the tension in his jaw. Surely, he wants to scream at her too. I can’t imagine the hurt he must feel listening to her try and put this on him… the victim.

“Christian,” Carrick says, his voice betraying him, telling everyone he’s on the brink of tears. “I need you to tell me that she’s lying. I need you to tell me that she did those things against your will. I can’t do anything unless you tell me that you didn’t give her your consent.”

But Christian doesn’t respond. He looks back into his father’s eyes, and in that instant I know that any denial he gave, would be a lie. He did consent. The nausea returns and the red in my sight begins to darken. I think I’m going to pass out.

“Ha!” Elena laughs, bringing me back into the present. “I have a signed contract. Everything there in black and white. Fully consensual.”

“So there’s nothing we can do?” I ask, turning a pleading gaze to my husband, the man who knows the law inside and out. He’ll find us a way… I’m sure of it. But, he doesn’t seem so sure himself. I can see his eyes darting back and forth as he tries desperately to come up with a solution.

“Tell them Christian,” I hear Ana say across the room, and I look up to see her staring at my son in a comforting kind of way rather than imploring him. She knows something, Christian knows something and she’s trying to reassure him. And again, I feel the sinking feeling that I’m about to find out something terrible, worse than even what has already been said. “This isn’t your fault,” she continues. “You’re not the one who should be paying for this. Look at the hurt and betrayal in this room right now. It’s all because of her. She deserves to go to jail for this and you can make that happen, but you have to tell them.”

“Christian…” Elena says, her voice a warning not to speak, but thankfully Christian doesn’t look at her. He stares only at Anastasia, and when she nods and he turns to face his father, I don’t know if I’m prepared to hear what he’s going to say.

“When it started…” he begins quietly. “When I signed the contract… I was fifteen.”

Fifteen? Oh no… it’s worse, so much worse than I imagined. He was child. She did this to my son when he was still a child. My baby boy. My poor, lost baby boy. The gasping starts again, deeper this time and I begin to retch, vomiting onto the carpet of our hotel room as Elliot dials the police. The darkness comes again and I only just see Andrew pulling Elena back, preventing her from running, before I collapse into Carrick’s arms.

Next Chapter

Christian POV: The Lie Heard ’round the World

~ Tara Nichole ~ Leave a comment

Image result for secret

Chapter 41

Ros is irritated with me when we finally take a seat in Annenberg. I know the offer I got from Puget Sound Alliance isn’t great… okay, it isn’t even good, but I’m getting anxious. I’m wasting time here. The fluctuations in the dow and the drop in stock prices are coming quicker now and three of the companies I’ve been watching in Seattle over the last few weeks have filed for bankruptcy. The market is prime and I’m stuck here. Now Ros is on this whole graduation kick and it’s pissing me off. We’d both agreed before we ever even came to Harvard that we’d be out of here as soon as we could, and now she’s deciding she really wants a college experience?

“Would three years really be so bad?” Ros asks, glaring at me as though she thinks I’m being unreasonable. Fuck, maybe I am, but I don’t give a shit.

“Three years would be a disaster,” I reply shortly. “Do you know what could happen to the economy in three years?”

“Yes, I know exactly what could happen to the economy in three years!” she snaps back. “You know how I know that? I study economics at Harvard University. Christian, we’re putting ourselves in the best position possible just by being here. We’re. At. Harvard. Every single rejection we’ve gotten says to try again once we’ve got our degrees. Investors are looking for education, they need to know we know what we’re doing and we are getting the best education money can buy.”

“And if the economy recovers by the time we graduate?”

“Then we’ll have to work a little harder and grow a little slower. Besides, a slow economy isn’t the only reason businesses fail, Christian. When we’re ready for takeovers we’ll look for ineptitude, companies that are overstretched or underwater in debt, hell maybe someone just looking to sell!”

“You’re dealing with a whole lot of “ifs” and “maybes” right now, and I’m not comfortable with that,” I tell her, but the moment the words come out of my mouth, I can feel Anastasia flinch next to me. I hate having her around when Ros and I argue… I know she doesn’t want me to leave school, I know she wants me here with her until graduation, and I don’t want to leave her either but I can make distance work, I know that. I don’t know that I can make my company work in an economic upswing.

“I like it here,” Ros continues, narrowing her eyes at me. “I’d rather spend three years here preparing ourselves to face the challenge of the future, than muddle our way through whatever bargain basement deal we can get out of these glorified loan sharks you’ve been dealing with.”
 “We’ll find a better deal,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“No we won’t, not without degrees, and I’m done trying for now. You can keep looking all you want, but you’re wasting your time. And I’m telling you right now, I won’t leave here unless you can make a borderline miraculous deal.”

I scowl and am just about ready to tell her exactly what she’s going to do when my phone rings in my pocket. I look down at the number on the screen but I don’t recognize it, although it is a Seattle number… It could be the jeweler I’ve hired to design the earrings I want to give Anastasia once she’s completed her first year at Harvard, or it could be an investor changing their mind.

“Hello?”

“It’s Elena, don’t hang up,” the unwelcome voice on the other end responds.

“What?” I ask, looking uneasily down at Anastasia at my side. Would she be able to distinguish Elena’s voice?

“I need to talk to you. Are you alone?”
“No.”

“Could you get that way?” she asks, a hint of annoyance in her tone, and I feel my teeth grind together.

“Hold on just a minute,” I tell her, and then stand from the table, pick up my bag, and turn to Anastasia. “You’ll be ready to leave by three?”

“Yeah,” she replies, though I can hear the curiosity in her voice. She probably wants to know who I’m talking to and I feel a wave of guilt. I shouldn’t be talking to Elena, but… she’s accusing me of rape. This could be an opportunity to put a stop to that before it gets out in court.

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” I tell Ana, leaning down to kiss her goodbye, and then walking briskly out of the dining hall.

“Okay, what?” I ask Elena harshly.

“Where are you going at three?”

“To the airport. My family is going to Bora Bora for Spring Break.”

“Oh… is Andrew going with you?” she asks.

“I don’t fucking know, what do you want, Elena? You’re not supposed to be calling me.”

“I know, but I wanted to talk to you about this trial….”

“You’re especially not supposed to be calling me about that.”

“Christian, this is getting messy. I have no intention of letting some nameless prosecutor steamroll me in that courtroom but, if I have to fight against you, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I’m going to get hurt? I think you should be worrying for yourself, Elena.”

“I can’t believe you’re taking their side! You know how much time I spent going over those contracts with you. You know that you had safewords to protect you if you didn’t like something. Are you telling me now that you didn’t want it? That you didn’t like it? That I somehow tricked you or forced you into this against your will?”

“No,” I say. “You didn’t force me but that doesn’t…”

“Stop, Christian. That’s it, that’s all that matters. I didn’t force you. We did this together and you’re going to let me pay for it alone?”

I exhale sharply as I begin pacing around the courtyard, and when I don’t respond she continues. “You’re so strong, Christian. Nobody knows that better than me and I’ve always been so impressed by you. Don’t let them turn you into this weak victim!”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” I snarl back at her.

“Yes it is. They don’t understand our lifestyle. They don’t understand that you weren’t just some thing that I fucked but that you were everything to me. You weren’t my victim, you were my lover.”

“It had nothing to do with love,” I growl.

“No. No it didn’t,” she agrees. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care for you very deeply. I don’t want the world to know what we did together in my playroom, how would that make your potential business partners feel? This could ruin you after everything you’ve done to set yourself up for success and it breaks my heart.”

“Really? Because you’re accusing me of rape,” I snap.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” she says quickly. “You can get out of this without anyone finding out anything, we both can.”

“How?”

“I need you to lie,” she says.

“What?”

“I need you to say that none of it is true, that we’ve never had any kind of sexual relationship, and I need you to do it in front of a judge.”

“That’s called perjury, Elena, and it’s a felony. Are you fucking crazy?”

“It’s only perjury if you get caught and you know that your family would never turn you in. They’ll protect you. Please, Christian, you know that I would never have done anything without your consent. You know that you wanted this as badly as I did. This way, no one gets hurt.”

“No, this way you don’t get hurt. There are other people I have to worry about, Elena, people more important than you.”

“What if I gave you a way to make it okay for them too? I can make this better for everyone, make it worth your while, and make everyone else feel you’ve gotten some kind of justice.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you do this for me, if you get on the stand and tell the judge that we’ve never had a sexual relationship, I’ll… I’ll give you the money to start your company.”

“What?” I ask, finding myself coming to a complete stop.

“Yes,” she says. “Look, Andrew is going to divorce me and if he can prove I was unfaithful to him then he’ll take his money and go. Even if I got out of this mess with the trial, I would be destitute, and I can’t go back to that. But if you lie, and you lie in front of a judge so that there’s an official record of it, he can’t prove infidelity and I’ll get half of his money. When I get that settlement, I can give you the money for your company and I’d be happy to do it. Your parents will see that at least you got some kind of reparation and… you won’t have to hear from me again. I’ll leave you and Anastasia…”

“Don’t you dare say her name to me,” I growl.

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” she says quickly. “I won’t. Just, please do this for me, Christian… for us. You can’t let me go to prison for something we did together, something we loved to do together. Whether you were fifteen or nineteen, you made the decision to do this. You’re not a victim, you’re not weak like they think you are. You did this to learn control, to make yourself powerful, and you are. Think of what this small, little thing could do for you and… well, for the future you’ve always wanted.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say shortly.

“Christian…”

“I said I’ll think about it. Look, I’ve got to go, I’ve got to finish packing.”

“Okay. Have a wonderful vacation, Christian,” she says. “I really do care for you, so very much.”

“Good-bye, Elena.”
“Good-bye.”

I hang up the phone and stare down at it in disbelief. She wants me to lie and I know it’s wrong but she makes a good point. If I were to tell the truth, I’d be punishing her for something I had an equal hand in. Could I do that? No, no I knew what I was doing, I knew what was in those contracts. She’s right, I could have stopped it at any time and I didn’t. I wanted this too, at least I did then, and it wouldn’t be right for me to allow her to be punished for something she did with me, for me, to help me…

And then there’s the money.

This whole thing with losing investors and clinging to bad deals isn’t what I want. It’s failure and it makes me crazy, allowing Anastasia to see me fail at this. To fail at all, over and over and over again. She’s too good for me… She’s kind and caring and patient and smart and fiercely protective of the people she loves. She’s perfect. She’s everything I could ever want and still so much more. She loves me and I didn’t think I’d ever have that. She loves my family and because of her, I feel like I can finally connect with them. She makes me a better person and now I have to do everything I can to be worthy of her. I promised her I would be able to provide for her, that I would give her everything she could ever want and now every time I face a setback it’s like I’m letting her down.

And this deal with Elena… Cash up front, no investors, no interest, nothing to pay back. I could be sole proprietor. No board to tell me what to do or to hold me back. I could move so much faster, be so much greater… I could be where I want to be by the time Anastasia graduates and she could return to Seattle from Harvard with a perfect life already there waiting for her. And I would be the one to give it to her.

A borderline miraculous deal.

I’d be stupid not to consider it.

Chapter 43

“You’re ridiculous, Christian!” Ros yells, throwing the letter from Cascadia Capital back at me. “Ridiculous! If you take this deal you’ll be nothing more than a glorified manager.”

“It’s all I have. Our very last offer,” I tell her, feeling dejected.

“So give up,” she pleads. “Not forever, just for now. Just until we graduate.”

“I don’t want Anastasia to see me give up. How could she respect someone who just gives up?” I ask.

“Christian, she wants you here. I promise, she won’t look at it that way. Don’t you want to stay with her?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then we’re agreed!” she says happily, but I shake my head uncertainly.

“Christian…” she groans, but she stops when my phone rings and I reach out for it. It’s a Seattle number that I don’t recognize, which means it’s probably Elena. It’s a different number than the one she used last time, which means she must be using those pay as you go phones to call me, like a fucking drug dealer.

“Can we pick this up later? I have to take this,” I ask Ros, and she sighs but gets up anyway, picking up her bag and walking to the door.

“You’re gonna love having a college degree. Christian Trevelyan-Grey, Bachelor of Science: Economics and Government from Harvard University,” she says, waving her hand through the air as if she’s envisioning a headline or something.

“Great,” I tell her. “Get out.”

She makes a face at me as she turns to leave and, once the door closes behind her, I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Good Afternoon, Christian,” Elena greets me. “You know, I was just thinking about that time when you were seventeen and my husband went out of town but we didn’t have any plans to meet because it was your mother’s birthday weekend. You’d had a rough week at school though, so you made some excuse to Grace and showed up at my door practically begging for me to take you into the playroom so you could work out some of that stress. Do you remember that weekend? I did that for you because I care for you, because you wanted me to, and that particular session was… extremely pleasurable. I remember that best of all.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“And you remember asking me for it?”

“Yes, I remember,” I repeat.

“And do you remember that time we almost got caught? It was oh… a little over a year ago on New Year’s Eve. You had been fighting with your father over Harvard again and you were angry. That night you pulled me into the kitchen, just to kiss me, just to taste the relief we both know you crave all the time. Then, remember, your mother walked in and I had to pretend that I was drunk and had mistaken you for Andrew and that I was so embarrassed. I lied for you, to protect you. Do you remember that?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Good. Have you decided?” Elena asks.

“I think so,” I reply.

“And?”

“And I have some… stipulations.”

“Okay, go on.”

“I want the money the day of, not when you get your divorce settlement,” I begin.

“Christian, I don’t think that I can….”

“You’ll figure something out. When the trial is over, you will not contact me, or Anastasia, or anyone in my family ever again.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

“And no one can ever know about the money. When the trial is over, you will never speak of this arrangement again.”

“Fine,” she says. “So we have a deal?”

“I just need to make sure of some things first,” I tell her.

“Christian…”

“I need a few days. We’re looking for apartments and once that’s figured out, I’ll give you my answer.”

“What does an apartment have to do with anything?”

“You think my dad will let me come home over the summer if I lie for you? Do you have any idea what it will take to get back into his good graces once this is all over? And I before I decide to leave, I need to make sure Anastasia is taken care of. That she’ll have somewhere to stable to stay when she’s not with me.”

“Fine, but don’t make me wait too long.”

“I won’t. Give me a number and I’ll call you when I have my answer.”

“You’re making the right decision,” she says once she’s given me a phone number to call. I scribble it down on a page of notes from my Origins of Political Thought class as she continues. “I think once this all plays out, you’ll see that you have done the right thing. I’m no more at fault here than you are. We did this together, we’ll end this together. Don’t worry about Carrick and what it will take to get back into his good graces. Your father will forgive you. He loves you and love makes people irrational. Even if he’s hurt, he’ll never turn his back on you, Christian.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about.”

“You’re worried about… her?” Elena asks.

“She’s the only thing I ever worry about. I want to be very clear that I’m not doing this for you, I’m not saving you. You’re right and I had a hand this, I knew what I was doing, but that doesn’t matter.  I’m doing this for her. I’m doing this so that I can give her everything she deserves. She’s all I care about.”

“Well, this should give you two a great start in life and if that makes you happy, then I suppose I can be happy for you.”

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re happy, Elena. After this trial, I’ll never think of you again.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she says. “I will always cherish my memories of you, Christian.”

“Good-bye, Elena,” I tell her, and she exhales sharply before hanging up with no salutation. I place my phone on the desk and open the book next to my computer, switching over to homework until Anastasia finishes with her laundry and she’s ready to go to dinner.

I don’t wait long. Seconds after I hang up the phone with Elena, I hear Ana’s key slide into the lock on my door and she comes into my looking uneasily at me.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I reply, turning away from my computer to look at her.

“You wanna get some dinner?”

“Sure,” I say, sighing and closing my laptop. I feel as though this Elena business has aged me ten years and I’m exhausted.

“I’m sorry about your business deal,” she says and I raise an eyebrow when I turn to look at her again.

“How did you know about that?”

“I ran into Ros downstairs.”

“Ros has a big mouth,” I say, shaking my head and, rather than look at me with the disgust I feel I deserve for failing so entirely at everything I set out to accomplish, she laughs at my response and then kisses me gently on the cheek.

“What was that for?” I ask, surprised.

“Because I love you,” she says, and the words are the most reassuring I’ve heard all day. We’ve just returned from vacation but with all this shit with Elena and Ros, I’m ready to get away again. Maybe I can plan something for a weekend, just Ana and I, and I can lose myself in her. School ends soon, I can do something special. Perhaps I’ll take her to New York, give her just a taste of what will be waiting for her once I start my company and can provide for her the way I want to.

I smile at the intriguing thought and pull her into me, kissing her deeply. She moans appreciatively and the small sound is enough to wipe away the last of the anxiety within me. I love this woman, more than I knew was possible to love someone, and I’ll do whatever it takes to lay the world at her feet.

Whatever it takes.

Chapter 44

When I get back from Annenberg after having dinner alone with Kate, I double check my room and bathroom to make sure Ana is gone. I know she’s out to dinner with my Dad, but I don’t know when she’ll be back. So I pull out my phone to dial the number Elena gave me, knowing I need to make this quick.

“Hello?” Elena answers.

“We’re all set,” I tell her, and I can practically hear her smile through the phone.

“You’re doing the right thing, Christian. I know you, you wouldn’t have been able to live with it when it was all over if you had gone through with it.”

“This is for her, Elena. This isn’t for you.”

“Of course, Christian. I’ll see you next week.”

“Fine,” I tell her.

“Good-bye, Christian.”

“Good-bye.”

I hang up the phone and throw it haphazardly onto the desk before collapsing on my bed and staring up at the ceiling.

It has to be this way.

She’s right, she isn’t the only one at fault here. I’m not taking anything away from anyone. I’m not a victim and if they really want justice for me, then they should see that this is justice. This is how I move on. She’ll be out of my life and I’ll finally be able to become who I want to be, be the person that Anastasia deserves.

A success, not a failure.

I promised I would give her the world and I will, no matter what the price.

Next Chapter

Christian POV: The Trial

~ Tara Nichole ~ Leave a comment

Image result for witness stand

“Are you ready?” My dad asks and, for some reason, it’s like his words echo around in my head. Am I ready? I take a deep breath and try to ignore the arguments that have been rolling around in my mind all morning.

Just tell him you don’t want to do it. Tell him you don’t want to testify. You don’t have to perjure yourself, you can just back out of this. Just tell him you don’t want to do it…

I look back at him and nod. I can’t not get on the stand now. The time for me to back out has well passed. My father wouldn’t accept it at this point and… And this is for my future. The future I want for myself, and the future I want to give to Anastasia. I want to create a life for us where nothing is impossible. The key to making that a reality is starting my company and this is the first step in achieving that.

I faintly listen to my father talking about what to expect from court proceedings, quickly overviewing everything we’ve discussed with the prosecutor and preparing me for every scenario or trick Elena’s lawyer could use to trip me up. It’s all meaningless though, so while I nod in agreement whenever it’s appropriate, really my attention is focused on the conversations I’ve had with Elena over the last few weeks and the reassurances she’s given me.

Your father will forgive you.

Your family will protect you.

Anastasia will understand.

You’re only doing what you have to do to be able to live with yourself.

I take another deep breath and look up as I hear the sound of high heels clacking against the marble floors. Elena is walking towards us with a strange man, who could only be her lawyer. I raise a questioning eyebrow at her, silently asking her if she’s made the arrangements to uphold her end of the deal. She looks back at me, a subtle smile playing at the corner of her lips, and then she disappears into the courtroom.

“Don’t worry about her,” my dad tells me. “Just do everything the way we practiced it and you’ll be fine. We’ve got this, okay?”

“Okay,” I croak. My dad grips onto my shoulder, trying to be reassuring but it feels like he’s pressing an enormous weight down on me with just this one small gesture. I know I’m about to hurt him, and I honestly don’t know how I’m going to make this right after the trial is over.

He turns away from me and straightens his back so he can walk as tall and proudly into the courtroom as possible. I watch him, trying to emulate him, and then hold my hand out to Anastasia. As much concern as I have over what will happen with my father at the end of this trial, it’s been nothing to the anxiety I’ve felt over how Anastasia will react. I have no idea what to expect from her. I assume she’ll be angry or at least confused at first, but she seems to get me, more so than anyone else in my life, so I think she’ll eventually see things the way I do. Until then, I have reservations in New York to treat her to the most lavish week of her life where I will shower her with gifts and the finest of everything her favorite city has to offer. A preview of what my actions today will afford us  in the future. She’ll see then. She’ll have to see…

“Are you okay?” she asks me as I take pause at the doors of the courtroom to once again prepare myself for the enormity of what I’m about to do.

“You love me, right?” I ask, and she looks taken aback by the question.

“Of course I love you, Christian,” she says. Her hand leaves mine as her arms snake around my waist and she holds me tightly against her. I lean my head down, resting it against her fragrant hair.

“No matter what?”

She releases me, takes a step back, and looks up into my eyes. “Christian, you have nothing to be afraid of. She’s in the wrong and there is nothing she can do to get away from that. After today, we never have to see her again, okay? I know this is going to be hard, but I love you, no matter what is said or done in there. Nothing could ever change that.”

I take a deep breath, feeling a great deal of the dread inside me disappear instantly at the absolute resolution in her voice. I can see the same love I feel for her reflected in her eyes, and it resonates inside me. I know there is nothing she could do, no matter how terrible, to change the way I feel about her. If the roles were reversed, if she was about to take my place… I’d stand by her. I’d always give her the benefit of the doubt, because I know who she is, who she really is, just as she knows me.

“Okay.” I say, exhaling with relief. I cling to her for as long as I can before it becomes absolutely necessary for me to release her and make my way back to the room where I’m being sequestered from the testimonies of the other witnesses. The moment the door closes behind her, I can feel the absence of her as though I’ve lost a limb. I need her reassurances, I need to feel the heat of her skin. I need to feel her support so that when I take the stand, I can hold onto the reason I’m doing this. I’m doing what I have to do to set myself up for success in the future, to provide for the woman I love.

Your father will forgive you.

Your family will protect you.

Anastasia will understand.

You’re only doing what you have to do to be able to live with yourself.

I can’t hear what’s going on in the courtroom, but it isn’t for lack of trying. There are a few people in the room with me and they all give me looks filled with varying levels of pity as they are called to the stand. Mrs. Ayala, Elena’s housekeeper, looks almost guilty as she ducks past me, Elliot glances back over his shoulder at me once he’s gone through the door like he’s about to ride off into battle for me, and when Mr. Lincoln is called to testify, he actually stops and grips tightly to my shoulder.

“I’ll see you inside, son. Good luck.”

I nod and then watch him disappear into the courtroom.

Your father will forgive you.

Your family will protect you.

Anastasia will understand.

You’re only doing what you to do to be able to live with yourself.

Finally, the bailiff comes to take me to the stand and I swallow back the lump of nerves that’s crawled its way up into my throat as I slowly trudge into the courtroom. I feel a strange kind of disconnect from everything around me as I make my way up to the stand. It’s like I can’t see anything that’s not directly in front of me and, although I agree to the oath the bailiff makes me take, I don’t hear a word of it. When I take my seat on the stand, I have to force myself to focus on the prosecutor.

“Would you mind stating your name for the record?” he asks me as he takes the few steps from the table towards me.

“Christian Trevelyan-Grey,” I reply.

“And what is your relationship with the defendant, Mrs. Elena Lincoln?”

“She’s my mom’s best friend.”

“I see,” he says. He takes a moment to look down at the paper in his hands, a guide for the testimony my father and I have rehearsed a million times, and I use his distraction to glance over at Elena. There’s an echo of a smile on her lips and, so subtly that it’s hard to notice, she nods.

“Christian, would you please describe the events of April 14th 2003 for the court?” he continues. I take a deep breath.

Here we go…

“I had just been expelled from Bellevue Christian High School for getting into a fight and my mom sent me over to Mrs. Lincoln’s to do some chores for her as punishment. I redid the landscaping around her pool.”

“Did you and Mrs. Lincoln interact at all?”

“I guess.”

The prosecutor looks up from the paper in his hands and I know why. That’s not what I was supposed to say. This is the part where I was supposed to talk about the first time Elena and I had kissed, the first time she’d ever hit me. I know that, he knows that, and my father, whose eyes I can feel burning into me from his seat in the gallery, knows that as well. But I can’t look at him now. I can’t even look at Ana. The outside world has to wait until I’ve done what I have to do.

“And what happened when you finished your work for the day?” the prosecutor asks, trying to redirect me.

“I went home,” I reply, and this time fire ignites behind his eyes. He can see now that this isn’t nerves or forgetfulness. He knows I’m lying on purpose and the best I can hope for now is that he’ll call me off the stand.

Your father will forgive you.

Your family will protect you.

Anastasia will understand.

You’re only doing what you to do to be able to live with yourself.

I swallow, and turn my eyes back on him.

“Were you subjected to any sexual contact initiated by Mrs. Lincoln on April 14th 2003?” He asks, his teeth gritted now, but I don’t have to answer that because once again, Elena’s lawyer objects. The judge overrules him though, and looks down at me, expecting an answer. I brace myself and turn back to the man who has been hired to fight this legal battle that I’m willingly surrendering.

“No.”

“Christian!” my father shouts, and every pair of eyes in the room turn to him.

“Would those of you in the gallery please remain silent during the court proceedings?” the judges says. My father takes a deep breath and settles back into his seat, but I can see that he’s fighting not to say whatever he’s currently screaming at me with his eyes. I can’t look at him, and so, for the first time, I turn to Anastasia. She’s staring at me, her mouth open, her face flushed, and I have to look away from her immediately.

Why didn’t I ask her not to come?

While the prosecutor turns around and hastily begins searching through the papers on the table behind him, I repeat the words she said to me just outside the doors in my head.

I know this is going to be hard, but I love you, no matter what is said or done in there. Nothing could ever change that.

This is no matter what.

Your father will forgive you.

Your family will protect you.

Anastasia will understand.

You’re only doing what you to do to be able to live with yourself.

“These are pictures of a room in Mrs. Lincoln’s basement,” the prosecutor says, storming back towards the bench and thrusting a small stack of photographs at me. I look through them, recognizing each one not only from the content of the picture, but from the angle it was taken from. I know this room better than any room in the world, but when he asks me that very question, I lie again.

He reaches forward and snatches the photographs out of my hand and as I glance up and see Elena smirking victoriously at me, a disgusting taste creeps into my mouth and I feel my stomach clench.

This isn’t for her. I repeat to myself, but my body doesn’t relax. I try to call on the years of practice I’ve had getting my body under control, but it doesn’t work. Instead, the more I try to push away the uneasy feeling, the stronger it gets. Please take me off the stand, Dad…

“Christian, do you know the meaning of perjury?” the prosecutor asks.

“Yes.” I nod.

“Then you understand that it’s a felony offense and carries a minimum five year prison sentence?”

“Yes.”

“So, I’ll ask you again.” He takes a step closer to the bench and stares me down, speaking each word in a clear, concise staccato that I haven’t heard since I was a small child being lectured by the red faced man currently seated on the other side of the bannister. “Did you engage in a BDSM sexual relationship with Elena Lincoln while you were still a minor?”

Your father will forgive you.

Your family will protect you.

Anastasia will understand.

You’re only doing what you to do to be able to live with yourself.

“No,” I say again. “I’ve never had a sexual relationship with Elena Lincoln.”

“Objection!” my father screams, leaping to his feet, and, once again, the judge looks over at him with confusion.

“Sir, please take your seat and remain silent,” the judge says, but my father shakes his head.

“Your honor, I’m a licensed attorney in the state of Washington and the witness is my son. If you’d just grant us a recess so that I could speak with him…”

“Sit down,” the judge demands, not allowing him to finish his plea. “One more outburst from you and I will have you removed from this courtroom.”

“Your honor, that is my son!  This woman, the defendant, Elena Lincoln molested him when he was still a child! I can’t…”

“Bailiff,” the judge interrupts him again and after nodding in my father’s direction, the bailiff walks through the gate to the benches where my family is seated and demands that my father follow him out of the courtroom.

“No, please. If you’ll you’ll just let me speak with my son…”

“Sir, if you don’t come quietly, we’ll have you detained,” the bailiff threatens him, and, as my father’s eyes shift helplessly between Elena and I, I swallow and look down at the shiny wood in front of me. I can’t watch him leave.

“Councilor, do you have any other questions for your witness?” the judge asks once my father has been removed from the courtroom, but he doesn’t answer right away. I don’t think he knows what to do, how to get out of my refusal to properly testify, but, rather than calling me off the stand, he moves back to the table behind him to pick up yet another folder.  

“Your honor, I’d like to submit item 4-A into evidence,” he says. “I have a statement from Mr. Christian Grey detailing his previous sexual encounters with Mrs. Elena Lincoln.”

He holds up the statement I wrote out two weeks ago for my father, but I know it’s useless in court because he didn’t have it notarized. He trusted me. He had no reason to believe I would contradict anything in that statement on the stand today… and now the case is going to be thrown out because of it. I feel my stomach clench again, tighter this time, almost to the point of painful, but I do my best to ignore it.

“This isn’t notarized,” the judge confirms.

“No, your honor. But… but it’s in Mr. Grey’s own hand.” He turns to me. “Mr. Grey, if you never had a sexual relationship with the defendant, why do I have a written statement from you that says on the afternoon of April 14th 2003, Mrs. Elena Lincoln coerced you into a sexual relationship that lasted until November of 2007?”

I shrug. “I wasn’t under oath when I wrote that.”

“Get off the stand.” He says at last, and though it’s what I’ve wanted to hear since he put me up here… I feel no sense of relief as I get out of my seat.

“I’m sorry, Councilor,” the judge says, stopping me before I can step off the stand. “But the defense has the right to cross examine your witness.”

“We have no further questions, your honor,” Elena’s lawyer says. The judge turns back to dismiss me and while I make my way off the stand, the judge turns an irritated look on my lawyer.

“Is there anything else, counselor?” He asks, and after a brief moment of hesitation, where his eyes dart wildly around the room as though the answer to overcoming my testimony will be written on the wall, he nods.

“The prosecution wishes to call Anastasia Steele to the stand.”

“No.” I say, turning a sharp look on him. “I told my father I would only do this if you left her out of it.”

“You haven’t done anything,” he spits back at me, but I ignore him, turning instead to look at Anastasia, who has gotten out of her seat and taken the few steps that put her even with me at the table.

“Don’t,” I plead with her, but she turns her head sharply away from me and marches purposefully up to the stand. I watch her, feeling an all too seamless amalgamation of dread, fear, and anger as she takes the oath and then makes her way up onto the stand.

When she gives her testimony, I barely listen to anything she says. All I can hear is the sense of desperation in her voice. I know she’s trying to undo everything I just did, but I also know that it’s pointless. I’m the only material witness in this trial and everything she is going to say will be in direct contradiction to my testimony, because she’s telling the truth… and I lied.

Why did he even put her up there?

She won’t look at me. Even when Elena’s lawyer gets up to question her, she looks straight ahead.

“Your honor, both the alleged victim and my client have denied the charges that Mrs. Elena Lincoln ever had any form of sexual relationship with Christian Grey, underage or not. Any evidence that the prosecution has provided the court today is at best circumstantial and is probably the result of a young man’s fantasies gone too far. There is no definitive proof that Elena Lincoln was ever anything but a caring, nurturing role-model who mentored Mr. Grey through a difficult adolescence. Unless the prosecution can provide any concrete proof that any inappropriate sexual relationship occurred, contrary to both parties’ testimony, I move to dismiss.”

Both the judge and Ana turn to look at my father, but I don’t take my eyes off of Anastasia. Her eyes are still filled with hope, and as I look at her, I feel my first pang of regret. I didn’t want her to be a part of this, I’ve turned her into a liar because she doesn’t understand… I should have kept her home. There’s no reason she should have been here to see this. It would have been so much easier to come up with an excuse to not have her come than it will be to make her forget what happened here today.

There’s a lot of commotion in the courtroom when the judge upholds Elena’s lawyer’s motion and the case is dismissed. I can hear my mother’s horrified shriek behind me and the sudden low mumble of disbelief that fills the room as those closest to me try to reconcile what just happened. Ana sits there on the stand, looking dumbfounded, and I want to go to her, but I only take one step before I’m intercepted by Elliot.

“Dude… what the fuck?” he asks.

“I’ll… I’ll talk to you about it later, Elliot,” I say distractedly, but he grabs onto my suit jacket and pushes me back towards the aisle.

“You need to go talk to Dad, right now,” he insists. I try to argue but he blocks my path back to Ana. “Now, Christian.”

I let out a huff of frustration and turn to Kate. “Can you…”

“I’ll… talk to her,” she says, looking a little stunned. Her response isn’t very reassuring so, I try to push past Elliot again, but he grabs onto me once more and nearly drags me back down the aisle. When I’m out of the courtroom, I look fervently around for any sign of my father, but when I do eventually see him, he’s all the way down the hall on his way out the doors, and my mother is trailing after him pleading for him to come back.

I take two steps in that direction, but as I watch him throw open the doors in anger, I stop. “This might not be the best time, Elliot…” I say hesitantly. “I should give him some time to be angry.”

“Why did you do that, Christian?” Elliot asks. His eyes are filled with the same disbelief I saw in Ana’s, and it’s hard to face, so I look away from him.

“I had to, Elliot. I know you won’t understand my reasoning… but I felt like I had to. I’m sorry… I just had to.”

I watch his Adam’s apple jump as he tries to swallow my defense, but it doesn’t take. He looks up at me and, for the first time since I was fifteen years old, I see disappointment in his eyes.

“I’m going to go talk to Dad and try to calm him down so that you can apologize to him,” he says, firmly, and then he turns and starts down the hall towards the main doors. I sigh and lean against the wall, taking a minute to absorb the ramifications of what I’ve just done. My dad is angry, but I expected that. I’ll talk to him when he’s had some time to process and we’ll work it out. I’ve been a fuck up before, more times than I can count, and he’s always been there to talk and to offer his wisdom and advice. He’s angry now, I deserve that, but… He’ll forgive me.

The pressing issue right now is Ana. She still hasn’t come out of the courtroom and the stream of people coming through the doors is steadily thinning. I look up each time they open, but am disappointed again and again. Soon, Elena steps out of the courtroom and I scowl at her as she shakes her lawyer’s hand and then crosses the hallway towards me.

“Go,” I snap at her. “I have nothing to say to you, Elena.”

“Thank-you, Christian,” she says, ignoring me. “They’re going to try and tell you otherwise, but you know you did the right thing. Thank-you for doing the right thing.”

“I said go,” I repeat, more firmly this time.

“Okay,” she nods. “I’ll initiate the transfer once I get back to my hotel. I know you said you wanted me out of your life, and I’ll respect that… but if you ever need to talk. You have my number.”

I turn away from her, not bothering to validate her offer with a response. She takes a deep breath and nods.

“Okay, I get it,” she says. “Goodbye, Christian.”

I listen to the sound of her high heels growing fainter as she makes her way out of the courthouse, feeling a wash of relief as she leaves. At least at the end of all of this, I’m done with her. There will be no more conflicts between her and Anastasia, no more backwards deals or schemes to break us up… We’ll be free to move on from this without any more interference from Elena. That is, if Anastasia ever comes out of the courtroom….

I stand there for what feels like forever. Elliot texts me, telling me that Dad is in a hurry to get to the airport but that he’ll call me as soon as he gets back to San Francisco. I wish him a good flight and then glance quickly up and down the hall. Those left lurking in the hallway have gone, and now I’m standing here alone. Another long minute passes and then, finally, the doors to the courtroom open again and Ana and Kate step into the hallway. She looks… horrified, and suddenly I’m a mess of apprehension. No matter what… she said no matter what.

Kate turns to give Ana a weak smile and then she hurries down the hall. I watch her disappear and then turn back to face the woman I love, still looking completely desolate on the other side of the hallway.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask, because, looking at her now, I’m not even sure if she’s going to want to come home with me.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding, but the tone of her voice doesn’t give me any hope. Maybe taking her home isn’t a good idea. She could decide to go back to her dorm instead of mine and we need to talk. I need to have her alone to talk.

She takes the hand I offer her and doesn’t let it go as I lead her out of the building towards the car. She’s still staring into space as I open her car door for her and by the time I get into the car myself, I’m on the edge of full blown panic.

“Let me take you to lunch,” I say to her, reverting back to my plan of not taking her back to campus, but when she speaks, she completely disregards my request.

“What was that?” she asks. “Why did you do that, Christian?”

Okay… we’ll just do it here. “Ana…” I pause, trying to decide how I can say this so that she’ll understand, but there’s really only thing to say. “I-I couldn’t do it.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t do it?”

I take a deep breath and turn in my seat so that I’m facing her, imploring her with my eyes as I explain what I’ve been going through the last few weeks. “Look, I know where you and my dad and everyone else are coming from. I get it. I was young, probably too young and what we did was against the law, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t want it to happen. That doesn’t take away the fact that I liked it and that I allowed it. I’ve signed that contract four times, I knew what it was and what I was doing. She didn’t force this on me, I was a willing participant and I could have stopped it whenever I wanted to. I could have stopped it from the very beginning, I could have prevented any of this from ever happening, but I didn’t because the truth is that I wanted it to happen. I know you don’t want to hear that, but… it’s true. How could I possibly send her to prison for giving me something that I wanted? Everyone keeps telling me I’m a victim, but I’m not. If this is really about justice for me, then consider it served. She’s out of our lives. She won’t contact us again. It’s still over, and that’s all I want. I just want it to be over.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together as if she’s having a hard time accepting my logic and she unconsciously begins shaking her head. “But… what about the next kid?”

“What?”

“Well, she found you when you were fifteen. What happens when she finds someone else? Maybe someone younger this time?”

“She’s not a pedophile, Ana.”

“Yes she is, Christian! She had sex with a minor, that’s what a pedophile is! The reason these laws exist is because at fifteen years, you’re not mentally capable of making the decision to have sex.”

I shake my head. “I knew what I was doing.”

She lets out a harsh breath as she turns look at the dash in front of her, once again in disbelief. I know why she feels this way, I know the law… but my age had nothing to do with it. She didn’t seek me out because I was underage, we started this because it was beneficial to both of us. She saw that she could help me and she did. Whether I was fifteen, nineteen, or thirty… it would have ended up the same.

“I know you can’t understand, but I really couldn’t do it, Ana, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did.”

She reaches up to brush away the tears that are threatening to leak over the rim of her eyes and I fight back the urge to reach out and hold her. I’m not sure that would help right now…

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.

“Would it have made it better?” I ask her, but she shakes her head.

“No. But… I was completely blindsided in there, we all were. I mean, think of everything your dad has done, everything we’ve all been through trying to help you win this case. Why didn’t you just put a stop to it?”

“My dad wouldn’t have let me stop. Right and wrong is black and white to him, he would never have understood. Besides, I didn’t make my decision until this morning. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“So you were conflicted, you knew it was wrong. We should appeal, try to get a mistrial…” She’s pleading and I take a deep breath as I prepare to extinguish the hope I hear rising in her voice again. She still doesn’t understand…

“If we appeal, I’d have to admit I lied under oath. You heard what the prosecutor said in there.”

She turns away from me again, no longer willing to argue with me. It’s killing me, sitting here watching her cry, knowing I’m the reason why, and after sitting there in silence for what feels like an eternity, I can’t handle it any longer, so I reach over and pull her into me. She doesn’t fight against me, but she doesn’t snuggle into my chest, the way she normally does.

“I promise you it’s over, Ana. She’s out of our lives,” I assure her, placing a soft kiss against her hair. “Let me take you to lunch?”

“No, I want to go home,” she says, shaking her head, and I feel my face fall. I can’t argue with her, though, she needs to be in charge right now, feel some kind of control, and maybe it would be better if we went home. She could change into more comfortable clothes and we could crawl in bed with one another. I could hold her while I tried to make her see my way.

I’m almost sold on my plan, but when we get back to campus, she makes it very clear that’s not going to happen.

“You’re not coming in with me?” I ask as she turns to open the door to her room, rather than following me to mine. “Don’t you think we should talk some more?”

“I don’t need to talk right now,” she says quietly. “I need some time to process this.”

I swallow back the anxiety those words incite in me. “You’ll come over tonight though, right?”

She shakes her head and the anxiety turns into full blown fear. I don’t want her locking herself away from me wallowing over this. We need to work through this together. I try to think of another way to argue, but she speaks first.

“Finals start next Monday and I’ve fallen behind on studying with all of this trial stuff.”

Finals. Okay, finals is acceptable. Fuck, that’s my fault too… “I’m…sorry about that, really I am. I didn’t mean for you to fall behind. I suppose, well… take the time you need tonight.” The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “But I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sure,” she agrees, and I feel some of the fear recede. Plans are good, plans are something. Maybe a night apart isn’t a bad thing. Maybe, if she has sometime to work through what she’s feeling on her own, she’ll be more open to what I’m saying to her tomorrow.

“Have a good night,” I tell her, hesitantly moving closer to her. “I love you, Anastasia.”

“I love you, too,” she says, and the amount of relief I feel at those words is unquantifiable. I reach out for her, tenderly holding her cheeks in my palm as I press my lips into hers. She kisses me back, but breaks away before I do. I brush my fingers over her cheek, and then, because I don’t want to watch her walk away from me, I turn back for my room.

Once the door is closed behind me, I lean back on it, hitting my head against the wood a little too hard. This whole day has been worse than even I imagined it would be. I feel a vibration from my phone in my pocket and I quickly pull it out, hoping it’s something… anything from Ana, but it’s a notification from my bank.

The transfer has been made.

I stare down at the zeros behind the balance of my account, the secret account I’d opened so that my father wouldn’t figure out what had happened, but surprisingly, I don’t feel the satisfaction I thought I would.

This is it. The key to everything I want, including everything I want for Anastasia. But, until we’ve worked through this and I know we’re in the clear, this isn’t an indication of anything good.

I toss my phone onto the desk beside me and slump to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Ana,” I whisper, but it’s pointless, because there’s no one around to hear.

I’m alone.

Next Chapter

Chrisitan POV: Empire State of Mind

~ Tara Nichole ~ 2 Comments

Image result for empire state building

When we pull up outside the iconic landmark I’ve chosen as the place to reveal to Anastasia that the plans for GEH have been finalized and are ready to be put in motion, I feel a rush of nerves. After these last couple weeks… I don’t really know how she’s going to react. I expect her to be upset. I am leaving her and 3000 miles of distance is a lot. Neither of us want to be apart from one another but I think I’ve worked out a plan to make it bearable. Besides, it’s only until she graduates, and while three years sounds like an eternity now… once it’s over, we’ll be together permanently and I’ll be able to open any door for her that she wants. It’s part of the reason I’ve chosen the tallest building in New York for tonight. It’s symbolic. Once I’ve accomplished what I set out to do, nothing will be out of reach. For either of us.

The thought gives me courage once more, so I hurriedly pay the taxi driver, then step out of the car and move around to the other side to open Ana’s door for her. She reaches out and places her delicate hand in mine and as she steps out of the cab and stares into the sky, trying to see the top of the building, her eyes widen with awe.

“The Empire State Building?” she asks, a kind of excited suspicion in her voice. I smirk down at her, purposefully giving nothing away as I take her hand and lead her through the concrete arch and high glass doors and into the narrow lobby. After we’ve procured tickets to the top observation deck, we step into an elevator, which surprisingly we have to ourselves. There’s a small jolt as the elevator begins the journey upwards, and somewhere around the 80th floor, I turn to look at Ana staring at the steadily climbing numbers over the door. I know she’s afraid of heights, and I can see the trepidation in her eyes as the car passes the 88th floor.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks nervously.

“Don’t worry, we’ll stay far away from the railing so you can’t look down,” I tell her, squeezing her hand reassuringly and brushing my thumb lightly over her knuckles. “You can’t miss this view.”

She nods a little as I turn and watch floors 93, 94, and 95, creep past us. Almost there…

When we finally make it to the 102 floor, I squeeze her hand once more and lead her through the small glass room and onto the deck. Immediately, she gasps, her fears seemingly forgotten as her eyes scan the top of the New York skyline. She’s still for a moment, simply taking pause to take everything in, and after giving her a minute to absorb everything around us, I pull her tightly into my side and lead her around the entire deck so she gets the full view of the city. As she stares out over the ocean, glittering in the light of the setting sun, I feel her shiver a little under my arm, but whether that is from the chill of the wind or from wonderment, I’m not sure.

“Christian, it’s beautiful,” she whispers, taking a few unconscious steps closer to the edge. I smile and then step up behind her, pulling her body against mine and holding her tightly in my arms so that she can’t get too close to the rail. The last thing I need is for her to start freaking out or to get hit with a sudden wave of vertigo.

“It’s the world,” I tell her, leaning down to press my lips against her ear. “And it’s at your feet.”

She turns her head so that she can look at me over her shoulder, the sweet smile that I love beaming back up at me. “Look at you,” she says. “Making good on your promises.”

“I intend to.” I say, more serious now. “I truly to.”

Her brow furrows slightly as she takes a moment to ponder what I mean, or maybe my change in mood, while I take a deep, bracing breath, and turn her so that she’s facing me. I wait for the nerves I’ve felt in anticipation of this moment to intensify, but they don’t. Instead, as I look into her pure, clear blue eyes staring back up at me, they seem to vanish. I don’t know how many times I’ve promised Anastasia I would one day give to her everything she could ever desire, and now… I finally get to make good on that promise. Starting with this.

I reach into my pocket for the small black box from Tiffany’s that contains a pair of diamond earrings I’ve been holding onto for months in preparation of this moment. As I pull the box out of my jacket, her face goes blank and I watch her mouth drop open.

“Here,” I tell her, placing the box in the palm of her hand. She’s shaking slightly as she slowly opens the hinged lid on the box, but when she looks down at the earrings inside, her forehead creases as though she’s confused. Does she not like them?

“They’re beautiful,” she says, looking up at me with a smile that isn’t entirely pacifying. I swallow. Fuck, how can she not like them? There are almost 5 carats worth of diamonds there…

“They’re celebratory,” I tell her, hoping that maybe it’s more uncertainty than chagrin behind her lackadaisical attitude.

“What are we celebrating?” she asks. The beginning of the journey that’s going to change our lives. I take a deep breath.

“I got the money,” I explain. I wait for excitement or at the very least, a sense of congratulations, but instead, the smile on her lips, which had seemed so hesitant to begin with, vanishes.

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice weaker now. I grip tighter to her hands, wanting to be reassuring but not wanting to approach this as if I’m delivering bad news, because it isn’t.

“The money for GEH, uh.. Grey Enterprises Holdings. That’s what we’re calling the company. It came through about a week and a half ago. Ros and I put a bid in for a small fiber optics company in Seattle. They accepted our offer this last Tuesday. She’s filing our Articles of Incorporation with the Washington Secretary of State as we speak.”

Ana takes a moment’s pause, but the more she thinks about what I’ve said, the more the shock on her face morphs into a look of horror.

“So… you’re leaving then?” she clarifies, and I feel my gut clench as I watch the unmistakable sheen of tears begin to well in her eyes. Fuck, I made her cry… Fix it, Grey. Get her to see the big picture here.

“Well, it’ll take a while for our licenses and the different permits we need to come through,” I begin, trying to soften the blow. “I’m going to spend the summer here, with you just as we planned, but, yes. Once the term begins and Kate and Elliot return, I’ll be moving back to Seattle. Ros and I won’t be returning to Harvard in the fall.”

She looks away from me and her eyes begin darting back and forth with frantic thought. I can see her body begin to deflate a little and her hand falls to her side, the $10,000 worth of diamonds still gripped in her fingers all but forgotten.

“I-I…” she stutters, but once it’s clear she’s not actually going to be able to finish a coherent thought, I reach out and pull her into me.

“Hey…” I say gently. “I know this is going to be difficult, but we’re going to work it out. I’ll get an apartment for us in Seattle and if you arrange your schedule so you only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I can fly you out to Seattle when you get out of class Thursday and you’ll fly back Monday evening. As my company grows, I’ll be traveling to the east coast all the time and I’ll make time to come down to Cambridge to stay with you when I can. And you’ll come home to me for all the holidays. It’s not ideal, but it’ll only be until you finish school and then we’ll be together all the time.”

She pulls her head away from my chest and looks up at me, doubtful. “So… you want me to live in Seattle four days a week and then fly all the way across the country for three days, and then do it all over again, every week, for the next three years?” she asks.

“Yes, and I know it’s a lot, but you’ll have more time than you think. You can do homework on your flights, think of all the extra time you’ll have to catch up on your reading. And maybe it wouldn’t have to be every weekend. I could come to Cambridge one weekend a month when my schedule allows it.”

She shakes her head. “”Christian, surely you see how ridiculous that sounds. I can’t simultaneously live on opposite sides of the country. What about campus life, and study groups, and my job?”

“You wouldn’t have to work,” I tell her, nearly appalled by the idea. “I’d take care of you. You can schedule your study groups for Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I can’t really give you campus life, but isn’t it worth giving up to be together?”

“Christian…” she says again, and really, for the first time, I don’t like the way she says my name. “Of course I want to be with you. I love you, more than is probably good for me, but… Harvard is my dream. I mean, my dad literally went to war so I could be here.”

Fuck. The Dad card? What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?

“I know that,” I tell her, staring purposefully into her eyes so that what I’m about to say comes out very clear. “I’m not asking you to give it up.”

She lets out a harsh breath through her nose and then turns to look away from me again. I wait, unsure whether or not it would be more helpful to try and reassure her more or to give her some time to think through what I’ve already said. She takes a deep breath and for one, blissful second I think I’ve won her over… but then, out of nowhere, her face goes blank and she looks up at me with a new kind of suspicion behind her eyes.

“Where did you get the money?” she asks me.

“What do you mean?”

“You told me you were giving up, that you’d run out of options and that you were going to have to wait a few years before you tried again. So where did the money come from?”

Oh, fuck. Alright, keep it simple, Grey. I take a deep breath, ignoring the warning stab of pain that arises at the idea of knowingly lying to Ana. No, not a lie. Just… just an omission of the truth. Keep it simple, and I won’t have to lie.

“It turns out we hadn’t quite exhausted all of our options,” I tell her. She stares up at me, her blue gaze feeling all too penetrating as I taste the bitterness of the half-truth on my tongue. I look away from her and her grip slackens in my hand.

“Did Elena give it to you?” she asks, suddenly angry. Fuck.

“What makes you think that?” I reply, hoping confusion will come across as more genuine than a flat out denial. My throat constricts, and I begin feeling a kind of pins and needles type pain all over my body. I’m not just lying to her, I’m manipulating her… I’m actually, actively manipulating the woman I love right now.

But if you don’t, there’s a good chance she’ll turn away and never speak to you again. The dark thought makes me shudder. I couldn’t bear that.

I look back at her again, electrified by fear that this could be a possibility, and I’m not pacified at all by the accusatory look she gives me in return.

“Did Elena offer to give you money to start your company if you lied for her on the stand?” she demands. I can feel my heartbeat quicken, beating so hard I can feel it in each of my pulse points. I can feel every inch of my skin as adrenaline courses through me. Fight or flight has been triggered and since I can’t flee from her, there is only fight. The only trouble is, I don’t know what that fight should look like. What do I say to keep this situation from slipping out of my grip and shattering on the ground around me?

“She did, didn’t she?” Ana continues when I don’t answer her. “That’s why you didn’t just lie about how old you were when it started, but that you had never had sex with her, because infidelity would still be enough for Mr. Lincoln to divorce her and take his money. You needed to make sure that she would get at least half of his money so that she could pay you, and so you lied about it all.”

“Ana-” I begin, my voice actual quivering as the fear consumes me, but she holds her hand up to silence me.

“Don’t,” she snaps at me, so angrily that I can see her physically shaking. “I don’t want to hear another word from you until you admit to me what you have done.”

Bile creeps up into my throat.

“Admit it Christian, you traded your testimony for startup money.” She’s practically screaming at me now. What do I do? Fuck, what do I do?

I swallow as the realization hits me. The only thing I can do is tell the truth. She knows, I can see that she knows, and lying is just going to make it worse. My best bet is to come clean and then get on my knees and beg her to forgive me.

“Yes,” I admit after what feels like an eternity of being under her piercing, furious gaze. I mean to continue, to try and explain, to grovel if that’s what it will take… but, with a quickness that actually knocks me off balance, Ana raises her hand into the air and then slaps me, hard, across the face. I stare back at her, shocked.

“I can’t believe how selfish you are,” she says. There is a venom in her voice that is close to hatred and it wounds me more than any insult ever could. But she doesn’t stop there… “Do you know what this has done to your mother? Your father? Do you even care? You’ve lied to me over, and over, and over again. There are a lot of things that I would forgive for you, Christian Grey. But this… this is not one of them.”

Her hand thrusts forward, shoving the earrings I gave to her back into my hand before she turns away from me, but finally the fight response kicks in and my hands automatically reach out to grab her.

“Ana, wait!” I nearly shout, not even bothering to hide the fear I feel anymore. “What are you-”

“Don’t touch me!” she screams, cutting me off once again. I feel her pulling against my grip but I don’t release her. I can’t… this can’t happen.

“You can’t leave. You can’t run.”

“Let me go, Christian,” she says through clenched teeth.

“No!” I shout defiantly. “No, no, no!” The words bubble out of my lips as my brain races to think of something, anything, I can say to make this better. Beg, Grey. This isn’t a time for pride or ego, you’re about to lose the most important thing in your life. Fucking beg!

“Please, Anastasia,” I say, nearly incoherent through the panic that seizes me. She pulls her arm again, and this time, she’s able to slip out of my grip.

“You know, I used to feel sorry for you, for everything she’d done to you physically, emotionally… but you’re right. You’re not a victim.” Her eyes look me up and down, and I can see the disgust reflected there. “You’re a whore, and she’s paid for you now.”

The cold edge in her voice seems to cut right through me and the pain is bewildering. I stand there, dazed, uncomprehending. In the span of a few minutes, we’ve gone from negotiating a long distance relationship to complete and utter destruction. What the fuck just happened? How did this… Holy fuck, this is actually happening.

My head snaps up but she is already through the doors to the observation room and pushing her way into an elevator.

“Ana!” I call, but as I sprint after her, the elevator doors close and she disappears from my sight. I nearly launch myself at the elevator call button, but the second elevator is only at the third floor. It takes a full minute for the elevator to arrive and once I push past the tourists spilling out onto the observation deck and jam my finger into the button for the ground floor, I nearly collapse. I reach out to grip onto the handrail against the wall, and then stare angrily up at the numbers ticking away all the time that represents Anastasia’s head start. When the doors finally open and I sprint out into the ground floor lobby, I look frantically around but I don’t see her anywhere.

Fuck! Where would she go? The hotel? I reach into my pocket for my blackberry and quickly dial her number but, of course, she doesn’t answer. I decide that the best place to start is the hotel as if that’s not where she’s headed, she could literally be going anywhere, and sprint out the doors towards 5th avenue. I hail a cab and instruct him to get me to the Plaza as quickly as possible, and once he navigates back into the evening traffic, I begin dialing Ana’s number again. It rings twice and goes to voicemail.

I’ve hardly said a word to the cab driver by the time we come to a stop in front of the Plaza. He gives me a total and I throw him a wad of cash over the seat, not even thanking him as I bolt out of the cab and then sprint for the doors. Thankfully, the lobby is fairly empty, which means someone could have seen Ana, so I make my way for the front desk to check instead of immediately heading for the elevator.

“Excuse me,” I interrupt the woman behind the counter. She looks up, and flashes me a broad, toothy smile.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“Did you see a young woman with dark brown hair and a short, metallic looking dress come through here?” I ask, but when her brow furrows, I immediately turn away from the counter and make my way to the elevator, not bothering to wait for her denial and subsequent apology.

Ana isn’t in the room and it leaves me filled with actual anguish. I don’t know whether it’s smarter for me to wait for her here or to start combing the streets looking for her, but she’s out there in a strange city, upset and alone. What if…

My jaw tenses as several unfathomably terrible possibilities roll through my mind, and I pick up my phone to call again. She still doesn’t answer, so I decide to hit the pavement. There’s no way I’d be able to sit here and wait… I’m already going out of my mind and I’ve only been here a few minutes.

Unfortunately, I have no better luck out in the city. I start in the park because it’s getting late and I’m terrified by the idea of her roaming through the underlit pathways alone after dark. I don’t find her though, so after getting her voicemail for probably the fifteenth time tonight, I decide to try Kate. Maybe Ana has called her, told her what happened and where she’s going. I’m sure Kate will be on Ana’s side, but surely she will appreciate the danger of Ana wandering New York City alone and at least tell me where I can find her.

“Hello?” Kate answers after three, interminable rings, but there is a kind of excitement or maybe anticipation in her voice that leaves me disappointed. I wouldn’t expect her to be so happy if Ana had told her what just happened…

“Kate, have you spoken to Ana?” I ask.

“No, she hasn’t told me anything,” Kate practically squeals through her giddiness. “Did it happen?”

“She left,” I reply bluntly. “I can’t find her.”

“Wh… What do you mean you can’t find her?” Kate asks, clearly confused.

“She ran away from me and she’s somewhere in Manhattan and I don’t know where she is. Look, I don’t have time to explain anything right now but she won’t answer my calls. Please, find out where she is so that I can find her.”

“I’ll call her,” Kate says, and she hangs up the phone without any kind of salutation. It’s good though. I appreciate her urgency.

I walk quickly from the park and make my way across 59th and down 7th Ave, hoping that maybe she’s going to Times Square, but before I even make it past Carnegie Hall, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I fish it out, hoping to see Ana’s name on the screen, but it’s Kate.

“Hello?” I answer quickly.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” she snaps back immediately.

“You talked to her?” I ask, relieved. “Where is she?”

“She’s on a train,” Kate says. “She’s safe, she’s on a train.”

“A train?” I repeat. “Where? Home?”

“What did you do to her, Christian?” Kate demands again, but I ignore her.

“Is she on her way home, Kate?”

“I’m not telling you where she’s going, she’s trying to get away from you because you did something to her. What did you d-”

I hang up the phone, not interested in answering any of Kate’s questions now. If Ana is on a train, the only logical place she could be going is Boston. She’s going home… I need to get to her before she makes any rash decisions. I need to talk to her before this gets any worse and I lose all hope of working through this.

Once again, I hail a cab, but this time I instruct the driver to take me to JFK. As we make our way out of Manhattan, I book the first flight leaving for Boston, and then check the train schedule to calculate the amount of time it’ll take Ana to get back to Cambridge compared to me. If she takes the train from Boston to Cambridge instead of a cab, it should be close. I want her to have as little time alone as possible to prevent her from talking herself into something drastic.

The next few hours are excruciating, as I fend off calls from Kate and Elliot in the airport and then stare helplessly at the inky, blackness out the window on my flight back to Boston. The moment I touch down, I sprint out the doors towards the loading zone where there are a line of cabs waiting. What is only a 25 minute drive from the airport to the house in Cambridge feels like hours, but when I arrive, the lights in the house are on and the relief I feel knowing I guessed her destination correctly is palpable.

I traverse the front lawn in only five or six long strides, then crash through the front door, and immediately call out her name. There is no response, but I can hear her moving around upstairs so I launch myself at the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. She’s there, standing just below the second landing.

“Ana, thank god,” I say, not fully realizing the paralyzing extent of my fear until I see her and it’s suddenly lifted off of me. I take the few steps that are all that remain between us and wrap my arms around her, but she instantly pushes away from me.

“Please don’t,” she whispers. Her voice is thick with tears and as I glance down at her and see the void that looks back at me from behind her eyes, I feel the panic surge again.

“Ana, I’m sorry… But we can get past this. Just talk to me,” I plead with her, but she shakes her head.

“There is nothing past this, Christian. It’s over. The end.” My body tightens as she takes the step to move past me and my eyes fall on the suitcase she’s dragging down the steps behind her. What the fuck is this?

“What do you mean over?” I ask her. “Where are you going?”

“My mom bought me a plane ticket to Savannah. I’m going to spend the summer at home.” She doesn’t look back at me as she speaks, she simply continues on down the stairs, intent on walking away from me… away from us.

“Ana, stop!” I exclaim, reaching out to grab onto the plastic, pull out handle of her suitcase, and wrench it out of her hands. She takes a slow, calming breath and then turns back to face me.

“Give it to me, Christian,” she says flatly, and the lack of any kind of fight in her voice hits me as though she’s physically slapped me again, but harder this time.

“No!” I argue. “No. Ana, you can’t go. We have to talk about this. You have to let me make this right.”

“How are you going to make it right?” she asks. “You can’t un-lie to me, Christian. You can’t un-lie to the judge and take back everything you’ve done to your family. You can’t even give the money back, but that wouldn’t make it better either. We were over the moment you agreed to take her hush money. The moment you chose her over me. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it.”

“Ana, please. I-I, I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to see now but really, it was all for the best. It’s going to be better this way, trust me. Just, don’t leave. Stay here with me. Give me a chance to show you it’s for the best.”

“You’re wrong, Christian. You lied to me. You lied to everyone. I can’t trust you. How can I be in a relationship with someone I can’t trust? There’s no coming back from this. It’s over.” I feel anger well deep in my stomach at her defeated tone and I latch onto it, desperate for anything to push off the pain I feel threatening to rip me apart so that I can remain on my feet and fight.

“Will you stop saying it’s over?” I growl back at her, but again, she shakes her head.

“It is. You need to accept that. I’m leaving you. This is done.”

“No!” I roar. “No, it can’t be done. I won’t let it be done. Ana, please, just give me a chance to show you… I can’t live without you.”

“Sure you can, you have your company now and apparently that is the most important thing in the world to you. I hope it makes you happy.”

It’s like she’s already forgotten. How can she be so willing to throw this away, to walk away from what we have? She’s not thinking clearly, she’s not considering what she’s actually doing… I need to show her what she’s actually doing.

She reaches out for her suitcase again, and I call her name as I reach out for her, pull her into me, and bring my lips down to hers. She struggles, but I simply deepen the kiss and reach around for the zipper on the back of her dress. In this moment, I’m somehow both single minded and completely frantic. I need to remind her what we have, what she’s about to walk away from… I have to make her see.

“Christian, stop!” she yells, pulling her lips away from mine and then pushing harder against me.

“Let me make love to you,” I beg her. “Let me remind you… it isn’t over. We’ll never be over.”

“You can’t fuck your way out of this, Christian,” she says angrily, the first real sign of life I’ve seen from her since I’ve come through the door. “What makes you think I would ever let you touch me again? You can’t change my mind. There is no re-do button here.”

“Please don’t do this…”

“You did this!” she snaps. “She’s been threatening to break us up for months and you let her. You let her win. You picked her. You lied for her. You sold your family for her. You committed a felony for her!”

The pain heightens as I hear the cold accusations in her voice. After everything I’ve promised her in the past, after everything I’ve said to her this week… how does she still not fucking get this. “I didn’t do it for her, I did it for you,” I tell her. “All I want is to give you the future you deserve, to give you the world. I can do that now. You’ll see, by the time you graduate, you’ll have everything you could ever want. Please, believe me, Anastasia. I did this for you.”

“How dare you say that to me. You didn’t do it for me,” she replies, her voice biting now. “You think you have to build some empire and make millions of dollars to give me the world? Why can’t you see it? I already had everything. I had it all because I had you. That was enough. But you took it away from me. You’ve destroyed everything. It’s gone now, and I’ll never get it back. You’re not the same person to me anymore. You’ve ruined us and it can’t be fixed.”

“Please, Anastasia…”

“It’s too late,” she says. “I’m leaving and you have to let me go.”

I’m unprepared for the sheer force of agony those words incite in me. It’s mind boggling. I’ve suffered through pain, I’ve lived through pain, but neither the burn of a cigarette nor the bite of Elena’s cane can compete with the sheer torture I feel now. I’m losing her. The only woman I’ve ever loved, the one person who has ever made me feel any real sense of value… She’s walking away from me, and she doesn’t want me to stop her. She’s not going to let me stop her. I’m anemic, helpless, and it’s eviscerating me.

Ana reaches down for the handle of her suitcase and slowly turns towards the door, and I say the only thing I can think of to try and stop her.

“You said you loved me. You said that nothing that was said or done in that courtroom could ever change that.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” she replies. She turns to look at me, large tears rolling down her cheeks and her voice breaking as she begins to cry. “I never thought you were capable of betraying everyone who loves you for something as meaningless as money. I never thought you would hurt me this way.”

“Ana, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. Please…”

“I love you, Christian,” she says. “I really hope you find success when you get back to Seattle. I hope you take the business world by storm and prove to the world you were right all along. I hope you get every single thing you’ve ever wanted and that someday you realize that you didn’t need her to do it. That it was you all along. You’re incredible, Christian Grey. I know that. I just wish you did too.”

The pain inside of me ignites again, her confession of love stoking the heat that burns away the last ounce of hope that I can do anything to salvage this situation. She loves me. She hasn’t forgotten. She knows that she loves me, but it doesn’t matter. She’s going to walk away anyway.

“Please don’t do this,” I beg, struggling to stay upright.

“Good-bye, Christian,” she tells me, and although I can hear her nearly choking over the tears that try and prevent her from saying those words, she turns around, opens the door, and disappears into the night. I stare after her, in utter and complete disbelief of what has happened. But as I watch the headlights of the cab she’s gotten into pull away from the curb and the realization that I’ve lost her, really lost her, hits me, I fall to my knees and succumb to the all consuming pain.

She’s gone. Period. I’ve hurt her and she’s walked out of my life… for good.

It’s hours before I move again.

Book 2: A Broken Shade of Fifty