Chapter 30 - The Kiss

“Wow, you got an A in math, that’s amazing. I’m real proud of you, honey.”

Taylor’s voice is unusually soft, but with a strong tinge of pride in it, so I guess he’s talking to his daughter, Sophie, on his cell. Sounds like she’s doing okay at the school I pay the fees for anyhow. Good girl, hopefully a decent education will give her a better start in life than a lot of kids get.

 I’m standing unnoticed in the doorway of Taylor’s office at Grey House, having made my way there to discuss the schedule for the following day, but I hold back from disturbing this rare private conversation of his.

“Yeah, I know it’s not long to your birthday... oh, is he? That’s nice for you ... I’m sure you’ll have a great time in Disney World with Steve and your mom.” I can almost hear Taylor gritting his teeth from here. I’m guessing Steve is the stepfather.

“Perhaps I can come and see you after you get back ... we’ll have to sort something out with your mom, won't we? Can you put her on the line for a minute, sweetie? Oh, I see, she’s too busy again. Never mind, I’ll call her back later ... yeah, I love you too, Sophie. Okay, I understand, you’ve got to go, better not make you late for your party. Bye, honey.”

Throwing his cell phone down on his desk, Taylor heaves a huge sigh and then scrubs his hand over his face. He glances up when he realizes I'm standing there.

“If you need to take some time off for your daughter’s birthday, that will be fine, Taylor. I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway. I realize that due to the change in circumstances, and the increased level of threat, having just you working one on one with me is no longer sufficient to meet our security needs. You need a second in command, who can step up when required, as well as any other extra staff you and Welch deem necessary.” 

I wasn’t happy about Gail being put at risk with the Leila incident when she was in the apartment by herself, and I know Taylor certainly wasn’t either, so that needs addressing, especially as frustratingly there’s been no new intel on Leila’s whereabouts.  And if things go to plan with Anastasia, I’ll be wanting a permanent Close Protection Officer for her anyway.

“Thank you sir, but it doesn’t look as if I’ll get to see my daughter on her birthday anyway. She’s got other plans. Or rather her mother and step-dad have.” He pulls a sour face.

“I see. That’s a shame, but still, you ought to take some time off and spend it with her. Please speak to Welch about increasing our security presence.”

“Of course, if you think it necessary. And I er… appreciate the thought, Mr. Grey. Was there something you wanted?”

“Yes. There are some changes to tomorrow’s schedule. I’ll be picking Miss Steele up from the SIP office at 17:45, and we need to be in Portland for 19:30. We'll be returning back here to Seattle again later the same evening.” 

I try to keep my voice sounding calm, bored even, but I don't think I fool Taylor for a second. I see the interest spark in his face.

“Miss Steele? I see, sir. Are you planning to fly down to Portland?”

“Yes, it’ll be quicker to fly us there in Charlie Tango, but I’d like to maybe have a drink or two with dinner, so I don’t want to fly us back. I was thinking that you and Stephan could follow up by car. Then he can fly the helicopter back, and you can drive Miss Steele and me. As long as that isn’t too much driving for you, there and back in one evening?”

“No, that’d be fine, Mr. Grey. It’s a nice easy run, so it’s no problem at all. So, does this mean… are you and Miss Steele… just for security purposes…” Taylor is trying his best to be subtle and tactful, but he can’t hide the hopeful tone of his question. And I guess he does need to be apprised of the latest developments, if I'm expecting him to carry out his duties efficiently.

“We’re going to see her friend’s photography exhibition, then I’m taking her to dinner, before we return. We’ll see what happens from there. I’ll give you all the address details so you can finalize the travel arrangements.”

I have the gallery address, because it was in the text that I intercepted on Ana’s cell. I practically snarl the word ‘friend’, because I keep getting these pictures of Ana with him in my head. Pictures of what could happen if I fail to persuade her that we should try again, if she says no. Disgusting images of him with Ana, because I know he wants to fuck her senseless. She is mine. Only mine. I have to persuade her to give me another chance.

“Oh, and Taylor, I want to stop by the Apple store on the way home tonight.” 

I could just send Taylor out to get what I want, but the truth is I fucking love looking at all the Apple shit, and it’ll help keep my mind occupied and divert my thoughts, for a short while anyway. 

I've got an idea to try and convince Anastasia that I’m serious about wanting us to try again. I’m not comfortable or well versed in hearts and flowers, but music I think I can do. So I’m thinking I could give her an iPad with a special personalized playlist of music, along with some apps I think she’d appreciate, and maybe some photos, although I realize I don't have many of either her or us together that I can use, which I really regret. I can hardly use the surveillance pictures of her, can I?

“Very good, sir, we’ll make a detour.” Taylor very nearly cracks a smile, I think. He’s relieved that maybe his stupid, moping boss might be about to get his life back on track. 

Don't bank on it, Jason. Nothing’s settled yet.

Flynn’s rung me every day to coach me, keeping me grounded, urging me not to lose hope as time passed, and I didn't hear from Ana. Fuck knows what his extortionate bill will be this month – he loves winding me up about that, knowing full well I couldn’t give a shit how much it will be. 

I spoke to him just now to talk this meeting through, after I finally heard from Ana by email, concerned that she didn’t sound more positive or encouraging towards me.

“You told me that Anastasia said she loved you just a few short days ago Christian, and when it’s real love, which despite your misgivings I believe this could be, then she won’t just walk away, if you reach out to her.  I believe there is still hope for you, just as long as you don't let your self- abhorrence sabotage things before you even make a start. Just take things slowly, one step at a time. You need to be open and honest, to communicate and talk through everything with her that we've discussed, the changes and compromises that you are prepared to make in order to resume your relationship. ”

~~~

I decide to get an iPad for myself too, as well as one for Taylor to give to his daughter.  

'Put some photos on it for your daughter for her birthday,' I mumble, as I throw it over to him in the front of the car, when I get in after my trip to the Apple store. 

With the long hours he works for me, she's probably forgotten what her dad looks like, but he knew what the job involved when he took it on. Until now, he's usually arranged to see his daughter at the weekend, while I've been otherwise engaged with my latest submissive.  Hence why we're going to need to completely re-evaluate all the security arrangements, if I'm going to be changing my lifestyle in the way that I'm hoping. If I'm lucky enough to get the chance, that is. 

He glances down at the box, frowns in surprise as he registers what it is, then looks at me in the rear view mirror. 

'Thank you, sir, I'm sure she'll love it," he mumbles back, before returning his gaze to concentrate on the traffic so he can pull out. 

~~~

I keep myself occupied all evening, setting up the iPad to give to Ana,  putting a lot of thought into what I want my choices to convey to her, before I finally go to bed in the early hours.

I get to sleep, but then I start dreaming. Not my usual nightmares, but a vivid, erotic montage of Ana and me, starting with the first time I ever took her, remembering how fantastic it felt to be the one to take her virginity. 

Next, I dream about how it felt to wake up next to her, how surprisingly calming and relaxing I found that. My dream goes on to recall the time I bound her hands with my silver tie, when my mother nearly walked in on us in bed together. 

Then I dream about the first time I enjoyed using my hand on her spankable little ass. After that, I dream about working her over with the riding crop that first time in my playroom, and how much she actually liked that experience. I recall the fast and furious fucking I gave her in the shower on her return from Georgia. Then finally I dream about the really unique Thomas Tallis experience we shared together in my playroom.

It is quite some dream, and I'm actually enjoying it, even though it’s giving me an achingly hard erection. Until I wake up in a cold sweat, after I go on to dream about Anastasia walking away, looking over her shoulder at me and smiling as she takes another man’s hand, instead of mine.

“Bye, Christian. It was nice knowing you. Shame you couldn’t be bothered to sort out your sick shit for me, but then I suppose I'm not what you really want or need, so why would you? Have a nice life with a new submissive female. She’ll give you what I couldn’t, I'm sure.”

Then the guy pulls her into his arms and sweeps her off her feet to swing her round as they laugh, relaxed and happy together. And before I can get the words out, they’ve walked off together, hand in hand.

“No, wait, Anastasia. You’re wrong, you are what I want,” I try calling after her, but it’s too late. She doesn’t turn round, and I don't think she’s even heard me. 

And the guy she’s gone off with? José fucking Rodriguez.

~~~

I think Taylor is just as anxious as I am not to be late picking Anastasia up after work, so we’re there waiting in the Audi SUV outside the SIP offices just after 17:30. The day has already dragged, but these last few minutes waiting for her to show seem interminable. 

I just hope she hasn’t had a last minute change of mind. She wouldn’t would she? No, but only because she wants to go to photographer boy’s exhibition so badly.

Finally, dead on 17:45, I see her. Anastasia is making her way out of the building towards us, and my heart leaps into my mouth. But I'm shocked by her appearance. Shocked and horrified. 

She’s wearing the purple dress that I really like, but now it seems to be hanging off her, rather than hugging her curves. Clearly, she’s lost weight. A lot of weight. My worst fears have been confirmed. She hasn’t been eating at all, just as I suspected might be the case.

“When did you last eat?” I demand, as she climbs into the back of the car next to me.

She stares at me. “Hello, Christian. Yes, it’s nice to see you, too,” she replies sarcastically. No change in her disrespectful attitude then. Not the best of starts, but I can't help being furious with her for neglecting herself this way.

“I don't want your smart mouth now. Answer me.” I can feel anger building within me. She must have practically starved herself.

“Um… I had a yogurt at lunchtime. Oh - and a banana,” she reluctantly fills me in.

But these are just snacks, for Christ’s sake.

“When did you last have a proper meal?” I haven’t had much appetite either, but I’ve forced myself to eat. Mrs. Jones has seen to that, to be fair. Ana doesn't have anyone like Gail to coax her to eat does she?

My mood is not improved by seeing some guy waving at her, as we pull away into the traffic.

“Who’s that?” I need to know.

“My boss.”

As I suspected. The Jack Hyde fucker. Following her out, sniffing around her. My gut instincts are rarely wrong. I don't trust him at all.

“Well? Your last meal?”

“Christian, that really is none of your concern,” she murmurs.

“Whatever you do concerns me. Tell me.”

She groans as she rolls her eyes at me, and then realizes what she’s done. As we look at each other, I can tell she’s trying not to smile, as she fights off a fit of giggles. And suddenly I want to smile too. This is Ana. This is what she does. She infuriates me, she defies me, but she makes me smile. But I still have to know.

“Well?”

“Pasta alla vongole, last Friday,” she admits in a tiny little voice.

No! For fuck’s sake, she’s not had a decent meal since then? She has been literally starving herself for five days. I feel a mixture of emotions sweep through me. I'm angry, I'm upset, and I’m remorseful. I've brought her to this. It’s all my fault. 

But it just proves how much she needs taking care of and looking after. This news strengthens my resolve to be the one to look after her. I try not to let my anger show, because I realize that's not going to achieve anything.

“I see. You look like you’ve lost at least five pounds, possibly more since then. Please eat, Anastasia.” 

I’d estimate she probably didn't weigh much more than around 110lbs in the first place, so she really can’t afford to lose that amount of weight. She’ll make herself ill and weak. I have to get her eating properly again. She just stares down at her hands in her lap, and I know by her rebellious stance that this is not going to be easy to achieve.

“How are you?” 

I turn to look at her sweet face to try and read her. I’ve been assuming that she was taking the break up much better than me, as she was the one who walked out, seeming so calm and resolute, but maybe that isn’t the case after all. She looks pale, tired and drawn, and her beautiful blue eyes look far too big in her face.

She hesitates before she replies.

“If I told you I was fine, I’d be lying,” she finally whispers. 

The look she gives me reflects exactly the same torment that I’ve been going through. She does care. She has been hurting, just the same as me.

“Me too. I miss you.” 

I reach over and clasp her hand in mine, desperate to touch her and communicate the depth of my feelings to her. I love the feel of her small hand in mine, and by her reaction to my touch, I know the bond is still there between us, and that she feels it just as much as I do, even though she protests and tries to pull her hand away. I refuse to let go.

“Ana, please. We need to talk.” I’m practically begging her here. She has to give me a chance.

“Christian, I… please… I’ve cried so much,” she whispers, obviously close to tears now, and it breaks my heart to hear the pain in her voice. It would if you actually had a heart, Grey. It was destroyed years ago, remember?

“Oh baby, no.” I tug on her hand to bring her closer to me, to try and comfort her. 

And somehow, she ends up on my lap, and I'm holding her tightly against me. Just having her so near again sends warmth rushing through my veins, melting the frozen coldness that has engulfed me since she left. She smells divinely wonderful, and I know I will never get enough of her special unique scent. Just for that moment, I feel a sense of euphoria and peace, thanks to her close proximity. I feel as if I’ve received a reprieve from a death sentence.

“I’ve missed you so much Anastasia,” I whisper in her ear. 

She can have no idea how much I've missed her. At first she stiffens and resists my embrace, but then I feel her give in, as she relaxes and rests her head against me. I kiss the top of her head over and over, because I just can't get enough of her, especially as I thought I’d never get a chance to be this close to her ever again.

But all too soon we arrive at our destination, and I have to reluctantly ease her off my lap, as I explain that we are making our way up to the helipad on this building.

Mostly, I forget that Taylor is in the car, but of course he couldn't help overhearing the exchange between us. Maybe that explains why he has an almost soppy expression on his face as he opens the door for Ana, and something passes between them that I don't quite catch. 

I look at Taylor for an explanation, but he wipes the expression from his face to look at me blandly, and it suddenly occurs to me, that the gruff, strong, silent Jason Taylor, who has never before interacted in any way whatsoever with any of my previous fifteen subs unless he absolutely had to, has a soft spot for Ana. It seems he can sense her natural honesty, that there is something very unique and special about her, and he is undoubtedly a very good judge of character with years of experience of having to quickly size people up. Bottom line is - he likes and approves of her. Why should that matter to you, Grey? He's just your security detail, for crying out loud.

But then Anastasia seems to have that effect on most people. Everyone, including my family, even my cynical dad, is taken with her it seems. My Mom especially, she really likes Ana, and that means a lot to me. She’d know if Ana wasn’t right for me. She senses that this girl is special too. Moms have a special sense about these things, don’t they? 

I feel guilty because I've not been taking any of my family's calls, but I haven't been able to face talking about the break up to any of them, especially as the calls are mainly about arrangements for the fund raiser my parents are hosting at their place this Saturday. 

Mia in particular has been hounding me, and has left at least half a dozen messages, mostly checking that I am definitely bringing Anastasia along, and that I haven't forgotten that it's a masked ball.  I know she's going to be pissed when she does catch up with me for ignoring her. Maybe, if by some miracle Ana comes to the event with me, Mia will be so pleased to see her again, that she'll forget about all the unanswered calls, and forgive her neglectful big brother. 

Even Dr. Flynn wants to meet Ana, after all he’s heard about her. I’m reminded all over again that Anastasia really is a pretty amazing and unique young woman. I hope and pray he gets the opportunity to meet her in the very near future. 

We get into the elevator to go up to the helipad. And in that confined space, the magnetism, the pull, the hum of electricity crackles between us, stronger than ever. I want her. She wants me. Right here, right now. It’s the same as always, nothing has changed. She looks up at me as she gasps in shock, as she feels the intensity of the draw between us.

“Oh my!”

“I feel it too,” I tell her, as I graze her knuckles with my thumb. 

It’s a good job it’s only a short ride in the elevator, or I'm certain it would be another 'fuck the paperwork' moment. 

~~~

It ranges from light banter to bad tempered sniping between us on the journey to Portland. I know she loves flying in my helicopter, and I love flying her in it too, especially the part where I get to strap her in nice and tight, so she’s helpless and can't move. That will never change. I will always like her tied up and restrained, but I have a strong suspicion that little Miss Steele rather likes bondage, and that gives me hope that we can work something out that will keep us both satisfied. 

But for now, the elephant in the room gets ignored for a while as we enjoy the flight together, just taking in all the various buildings and sights that I point out to her, including the Space Needle.

"I've never been," Ana admits.

"I'll take you - we can eat there." I'd enjoy that, especially as the food's pretty decent.

"Christian, we broke up," Ana reminds me pointedly. 

"I know. I can still take you there and feed you."  If I get my way, we won't be broken up for much longer. And I'm used to getting my way, all of the time. But don't you understand Miss Steele? Whatever happens, as your very own dedicated personal control freak/stalker, I'm always going to be around to take care of you, and look after you.  You still have to eat, so why not make it somewhere nice, with me?

Once we get to Portland, we make the short car journey to where the boy’s photos are being exhibited.

As we pull up outside the gallery, we’re still arguing about getting her to eat. I’m sure Flynn would advise me to back off and stop putting pressure on her, but I can't help it. I want her to promise to eat. I just need to see some food pass through her lips, to be sure she’s getting adequate nutrition, so that I can stop worrying about her starving herself. It’s not that much to ask, is it? 

Seems it is to her though, Grey. Seems a pretty big deal. Something she has control over maybe? You should understand that, about having control issues.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Anastasia. I want you back, and I want you healthy.” This is the first time I’ve shown my hand, told her my intentions, and I look to see her reaction.

“But nothing’s changed,” she insists.

My heart sinks, she isn’t jumping for joy at my declaration. However, this isn’t the time or place for us to have a full and frank discussion.

“Let’s talk on the way back. We’re here.” We’re outside what appears to be a converted warehouse of some sort, the pretentious type of place that's trying a bit too hard to be trendy and quirky.

Ana reluctantly concedes that the street is not the place to conduct our affairs, and agrees that we'll have to postpone our discussion. 

I don't intend to linger at the exhibition for a second longer than we have to. Coming here was just a convenient excuse to get Ana to meet up with me. More importantly, I really need to see her eat some food, before we can start talking and getting down to the business of sorting things out between us. 

We have a nice long car journey back to Seattle to share, where she will have no option but to engage with me, unless she’s prepared to throw herself out of the car. That would be difficult, as Taylor always has the car doors locked as an anti-hijack precaution, only releasing them when he’s satisfied there is no threat to the security of his charges.

The fact that so many people at the exhibition  seem to know who Ana is, makes me suspicious that she has been a lot more involved with helping the boy out with his photography than I had realized, although she seems rather surprised when people know her name, or recognize her.

I offer to get her a drink – she opts for white wine. Not such a good idea on an empty stomach, but I refrain from commenting, not wanting to start another argument. No doubt the wine on offer will be disgusting, but I dutifully head for the bar.

Of course, the second I head off, the boy makes a beeline for Ana, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I have to admit he has scrubbed up quite well tonight. He’s wearing a suit, not the best quality maybe, but he still looks a hell of a lot better than when I last saw him. I have to stand by helplessly and watch him take her in his arms and hug her. I want to kill him. 

I see him looking Ana over, seemingly concerned, and I guess he’s noticed her weight loss too. He’s clearly very familiar with how her body usually looks. My property, not yours, boy. They chat for a minute, but then she looks back over at me. 

As our eyes lock, the bond between us makes its presence felt. We stare intently at each other, and just for those few seconds, there is no one else in the room, no one else exists. She can't ignore whatever this spell between us is, it’s far too strong. Love. That’s what Flynn says this is. Is it even possible? Is this what love feels like? You wouldn’t know, Grey, because just like Elena told you, it has no place in your world, does it?

 Then Ana talks to the boy again, who kisses her cheek before going off to mingle again. Yes, no doubt about it, I really want to kill him. Or at the very least take him down hard, for his impudence in getting so close to Anastasia, and touching and kissing her that way. Even if she doesn't seem to mind.  

Much to my surprise, I am impressed by the boy’s work. He is actually quite talented, I have to reluctantly concede. The photos are really rather good. If it was anyone else, I might even consider buying a couple of them.

A newspaper photographer recognizes me, and comes up to ask if he can have a picture. As it’s a public occasion, and he’s politely asked my permission, I agree. But I want Ana in it. I want proof of being with her. Last night, I had very few pictures of either her or us together to upload to the iPad, a situation I intend to rectify, given half the chance. So I pull her next to me to be in the picture. I want to prove to the world that this is my girlfriend. Mine.

The exhibition is actually quite interesting. The boy’s interpretation and composition shows a lot of artistic skill, that much is apparent. He has concentrated on taking pictures of landscapes, which seem to be his speciality.

But when we turn a corner, we get a huge shock. 

Ana is clearly as surprised as I am to see seven, huge, black and white portraits of her hanging on the wall. That’s why everyone has been looking at her. They recognize her from these pictures. And they are stunning. Quite simply breath-taking.

Close ups of her pouting, smiling, laughing, scowling, serious, amused, and distracted.  The boy knows her very well. These show that he has studied her closely over a long period of time. 

He’s caught her gorgeous smile perfectly, and I think that is probably my favorite, although it’s hard to single out any one of them. In the one of her pouting, he’s managed to capture the sexiness of her full lips. The one of her scowling makes me want to laugh, because that expression is so very Ana. Her beautiful eyes look amazing in the serious one, even though it’s a black and white picture. No, all credit to his photographic skills, I have to admit the boy really has done good here. I still hate him, but I now have a grudging respect for his talent, I suppose.

“Seems I’m not the only one,” I murmur. The boy is clearly totally and utterly besotted with Ana. I’ve dismissed him as a sleazeball who just wants to get her laid, but I realize now that his feelings for her run much deeper than that, for him to have produced pictures of this quality. He is serious about her and a real contender for her affections; I must take my dream last night as a serious warning.

The photos of Ana are creating a lot of interest, so I don’t hesitate. I head straight over to the reception desk before anyone else steps in.

“I want to buy those photos of Miss Steele,” I state, as I flash my black Amex card at the girl there. She has an aggressive, very short haircut. I don't like very short hair on women. My women have long hair, always. And she’s wearing unflattering 'fuck my mouth' red lipstick. No thanks, despite the look you’re giving me. Not in a million years.

“Oh right, which one do you want?” she asks, somewhat taken aback, as the exhibition has only been open a few minutes.

“All seven of them.”

“Don't you want to know how much they are first?” she queries, looking at me oddly. Clearly she has no idea who I am. I couldn’t give a fuck how much they are. Cost is immaterial. I have to have them. All of them.

“It doesn't matter. And I want them in some other sizes too. Mr. Rodriguez must have the digital originals to work from I assume, so that shouldn’t be a problem. And I want his agreement that no other copies will be shown or sold anywhere else. These are to be the only ones in existence.” 

I don't want some company scooping them up for an advertising campaign.

“I… err… don’t know… I suppose that will be possible… but that will be extra of course,” she insists, sensing a chance to make some extra money here. Whatever. I couldn’t give a shit about that.

I just hate the thought of anyone else ogling what is mine. At least they’re only close ups of her face, not her body. But still, they are incredibly revealing in their own way - of her persona. The boy has done an amazing job of capturing her very essence.

“And I want them taken down.”

“No, I’m sorry we can't do that. It would leave a huge gap, and this exhibition is all about showcasing José’s talent. You can have them as soon as the exhibition is over.”

I want to argue the point, but realize that if I make too big a scene, they could refuse to sell them to me. So I have to content myself with agreeing that they will be shipped to me as soon as the exhibition is over.

 I head on over back to Ana. I’ve only been gone a few minutes, but already some other tall, blond, young dick is drooling over her.

“You’re a lucky guy,” he smirks at me. Stupid asshole. Back off.

“That I am,” I glower back at him, as I take Ana’s elbow and lead her away from him.

I stare again at the photos of her. I can’t seem to take my eyes off them. She seems surprised when I admit that I’ve bought all of the photos. Doesn't she understand? I don't want them hanging on anyone else’s wall for them to ogle her as they please. They should be for my eyes only.

“You’d rather it was you?” She teases me.

“Frankly, yes.”

“Pervert.”

I'm taken aback by this, but as her assessment is so accurate, I can't help being amused.

But the boy’s photographs make me realize that they show a side of Ana that is happy, carefree, and relaxed. I don't get to see her like that very often, and that makes me feel sad and guilty.

“I want you that relaxed and open with me,” I whisper.

But this leads to more confrontation between us. 

Apparently I intimidate her, I confuse her, and I contradict myself.  As she explains her thoughts, reluctantly I can see where she’s coming from. 

I told her I want her to be my submissive. But I like the things about her that aren’t submissive. I want to punish her when she disobeys me and is disrespectful, but I tell her I like her smart mouth.

We need to talk all this through, that much is obvious. And we can't do that here at the exhibition. We don't have much time for our meal, because it’s a long ride back to Seattle. 

She’s seen the boy. We’ve seen the photos. Duty done, so we’re good to go as far as I'm concerned, but of course Ana objects. I remind her that she seems to have forgotten the boy’s appalling behavior towards her previously.

“He’s never hit me,” she spits out.

“That’s a low blow, Anastasia,” I tell her angrily. But it’s true, Grey. She’s got you there. He's not the depraved fucker who has a favorite leather belt he beats her with, is he?

“I'm taking you for something to eat. You’re fading away in front of me. Find the boy, say good-bye.”

“Please, can we stay longer?”

“No. Go. Now. Say good-bye.”

We are both pretty angry and heated by now. We need to get out of here to talk, why the fuck can't she see that?

She storms off towards the boy, who is quite the celebrity tonight, as a group of young women are crowding round him. There you go boy, you’re spoilt for choice now. So just pick one of them and leave Ana the fuck alone.

But when he sees Ana heading towards him to make her farewells, he only has eyes for her, as he puts his arm around her. They talk animatedly for a while, then the fucker sweeps her up in a big bear hug and spins her round – just like in my dream last night. I find myself clenching my fists to try and keep my temper in check. I’m just about succeeding – until I see Ana wrapping her arms around the boy’s neck, and him responding by hugging her even tighter.

Now, I'm not an idiot; I know she’s doing it purely to wind me up and make me jealous, to get me back for insisting we have to leave early, and I know she is just acting like a silly, immature, little girl here but I can't help it, she is succeeding  beyond  her wildest dreams. 

I'm so jealous I think I really could kill the boy if I let myself go. I know I can't, I know I mustn't, but it would be so easy. I haven't felt like this, so out of control of my emotions, since I was about fifteen, when the girls at school used to wind me up with their prick teasing ways.

I take a deep breath and walk over towards them. I can feel pure hatred coursing through my veins.

Luckily, he’s just putting Ana down as I reach them.

“Don't be a stranger, Ana. Oh Mr. Grey, good evening.”

“Mr. Rodriguez, very impressive. I’m sorry we can't stay longer, but we need to head back to Seattle. Anastasia?” 

I take her hand. This is not a request. This is a command. I'm just about holding it together, but if she doesn't come with me, right now, then I won’t be responsible for my actions. 

She still manages to defiantly kiss the boy on the cheek, before I literally drag her out of the building.

Outside I quickly look around for somewhere private. There’s a side alley. That will have to do.

I pull her into the alleyway, and then push her up hard against the wall. I grab her face between my hands, to force her to look into my eyes. And then I'm kissing her. 

It’s not the sweet gentle kiss I imagined we might resume our relationship with. It’s a raw, desperate, hungry kiss, filled with longing and passion. I'm claiming her. I'm reminding her that she is mine and mine alone, that she belongs to me. No matter what she does, no matter what happens, nothing is going to change that.

And it’s as if a touch paper has been lit between us. She kisses me back just as fervently as I kiss her. Our tongues entwine, our teeth clash, and then I feel her fingers in my hair, twisting and pulling hard to bring me down to her. I fucking love her doing this, it’s so primal and arousing. 

She is claiming me, she badly wants me too, and it causes me to groan loudly in pure desperate need for her. I feverishly run my hands over her dress to feel the curve of her hips, the line of her legs. I want to rip her panties off and take her rough and hard up against the wall, with her legs clamped tightly round my waist. I feel her urgent need matching mine. I'm trying to bind her to me. I want to totally possess her, to make an unbreakable bond between us, so she won’t ever be able to walk away from me again.

But a vague last remnant of reason gets through to my overheated brain. We can't have sex here. This is a really bad idea on so many levels. I manage to break away, panting wildly. I have to rein myself in.

“You. Are. Mine,” I grunt the words out as I push away from her, to regain some sort of control over myself. But I feel like I've just run a marathon, as I bend over and put my hands on my knees to catch my breath. “For the love of God, Ana.”

“I’m sorry,” she pants back.

“You should be. I know what you were doing. Do you want the photographer, Anastasia? He obviously has feelings for you?”

She shakes her head, and has the grace to flush.

“No. He’s just a friend.”

“I have spent my entire adult life trying to avoid any extreme emotion. Yet you… you bring out feelings in me that are completely alien. It’s very… unsettling. I like control, and around you that just… evaporates. Come, we need to talk, and you need to eat.”

We both manage to calm down, as we make our way to the little restaurant that was the best I could track down in the area, although I can't say that I’m overly impressed as we walk in. 

But as we don't have time to mess around, this will have to do. Tonight, I get to find out whether Anastasia is going to let the light back in my life, or leave me in perpetual darkness.

I don’t own any of the Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters therein. They belong to E L James. I’m just borrowing them for fun and not for profit. Please refer to the Legal’s page for further details. This work is not to be copied or reproduced in any way without permission.