I want to take care of you. I’ve told you more than once.

She smiles. “Yes, it is.”

Once she’s finished her breakfast, I ask as nonchalantly as possible if we should go. I’m excited to give her the car.

“I’ll just brush my teeth.”

I smirk. “Okay.”

The little v forms between her brows as she frowns—I think she suspects something’s afoot—but she says nothing and heads to the bathroom. I text Taylor to let him know that we’re leaving imminently.

As we walk to the elevators, I notice that Ana is wearing her new charm bracelet. Grasping her hand, I kiss her knuckles. My thumb grazes the helicopter charm. “You like?”

“More than like. I love it. Very much. Like you.”

I kiss her fingers once more while we wait for the elevator.

The elevator.

Where it all started. Where I lost control.

Ceded control, Grey.

Yes. She’s had you on a tight leash since you met her.

Ana’s eyes flit to mine as we enter.

Is she thinking what I’m thinking? “Don’t,” I whisper, as I push the button for the lobby and the doors slide shut.

“Don’t what?” She peeks at me through her lashes, coy and provocative at once.

“Look at me like that.”

“Fuck the paperwork,” she says, with a wide grin.

I laugh and tug her into my arms and tilt her face to mine. “Someday, I’ll rent this elevator for a whole afternoon.”

“Just the afternoon?” She raises an eyebrow, and it’s a challenge.

“Mrs. Grey, you’re greedy.”

“When it comes to you, I am.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” I plant a tender kiss on her lips, but as I pull away, Ana’s fingers curl around the nape of my neck, pulling my mouth to hers. Her tongue is insistent, demanding access, and she pushes me against the wall, pressing her body against mine. I kiss her back as desire flares like a comet inside me.

What I thought would be a courtly, respectful expression of affection becomes darker, needier, hotter.

More.

So much more.

Her tongue is relentless, mating with mine.

Fuck.

I want her. Here. In this elevator.

Again.

We kiss. Tongues. Lips. Hands. All playing a role.

My fingers tightening in her hair while her hands caress my face. “Ana,” I breathe, fighting my desire.

“I love you, Christian Grey.” She’s breathy and restless, her eyes full of promise. “Don’t forget that.” The elevator stops, the doors open, and she puts some space between us.

Hell.

My blood is running fast and thick through my body.

“Let’s go see your father before I decide to rent this today.” I kiss her quickly and, taking her hand, head out into the lobby. I’m grateful that I’m wearing my jacket.

The concierge sees us, and I give him a nod. Ana notices our exchange, but I give my girl my patented I-so-own-you-and-I’ve-got-a-surprise-for-you smile, and she frowns. “Where’s Taylor?” she asks.

“We’ll see him shortly.”

“Sawyer?”

“Running errands.”

We head outside and stop on the wide sidewalk. It’s a beautiful late-summer day; the trees on Broadway are in full leaf, but there’s a hint of the coming fall in the air. There’s no sign of Taylor. Ana looks up and down the street, following my lead. “What is it?” she asks. I lift my shoulders, trying for nonchalance, not wanting to give the game away.

Then I hear it: the growl of the R8’s throaty engine. Taylor steers the white, pristine vehicle that is Ana’s brand-new Audi to a stop in front of us.

Ana takes a step back, and in stunned disbelief looks from the car to me.

Okay, last time I tried to give her a car, it didn’t go so well.

This could go either way.

You said it, Ana. You can buy me one for my birthday. A white one.

“Happy birthday,” I murmur, and from my pocket I produce the key.

Her mouth drops open. “You are completely over the top.” Each word is a quiet staccato, then she turns to admire the marvel of engineering parked at the curb. Her consternation is short-lived; her face lights up and she jumps up and down on the spot. She turns and barrels into my waiting arms, and I swing her around, delighted at her reaction.

“You have more money than sense!” she cries. “I love it! Thank you.”

I dip her low, surprising her, so she gasps and grips my biceps. “Anything for you, Mrs. Grey.” I kiss her. “Come. Let’s go see your dad.”

“Yes!” she exclaims. “And I get to drive?”

Smiling down at her, and against my better judgment, I acquiesce. “Of course. It’s yours.” I pull her to her feet, and she dances to the driver’s door, which Taylor is holding open for her.

“Happy birthday, Mrs. Grey.” He beams.

“Thank you, Taylor.” She hugs him while I roll my eyes and climb into the passenger seat. Ana clambers in beside me and slides her hands around the steering wheel, grinning with glee, as Taylor closes her door.

“Drive safe, Mrs. Grey,” he says, his affection obvious despite the gruff tone. For some unfathomable reason it makes me smile.

“Will do,” Ana replies, buzzing with excitement. She puts the key in the ignition, and I tense beside her.

I hate being driven.

Except by Taylor.