Don’t ever leave me.

Don’t die.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

What do you think Elliot has planned?” Ana is sprawled over me, her index finger making small circles through my chest hair. It’s a weird sensation, one that I’m not entirely comfortable with.

Enough.

I grab her hand, threading my fingers through hers, and plant a kiss on the tip of the offending digit.

“Too much?” she whispers.

I slide her finger into my mouth, clamping my teeth gently around her knuckle and teasing the tip with my tongue.

“Ah!” she coos, as a sensuous spark ignites in her eyes, and she tips her pelvis against my thigh.

Baby.

She tugs her hand and I relax my jaw but close my lips as she eases her finger out of my mouth.

She tastes mighty fine.

Tenderly she kisses the spot on my chest that her finger traced, while I stroke her hair and revel in this quiet moment. It’s early, and the only items on today’s agenda are my “bachelor party,” Ana’s bachelorette party, and a shopping excursion with Caroline Acton.

Ana raises her head. “Do you think he’ll take you to a…a…strip joint?”

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Strip joint?”

Ana giggles. “I don’t know what they’re called.”

I sigh and close my eyes, envisioning the hell that Elliot probably has planned. “Knowing Elliot, it’s a distinct possibility.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Ana replies, tartly.

I grin and, rolling over, press her into the mattress. “Why, Miss Steele, do you disapprove?” I run my nose down hers and she squirms beneath me.

“Deeply.”

“Jealous?”

She makes a face.

“I’d rather be here with you,” I reassure her.

“You’re not really a party animal, are you?” she says.

“No. More the loner.”

“I’ve figured this out.” Her teeth graze my chin.

“Could say the same about you,” I murmur.

“I’m the wallflower, nose-in-a-book type.”

I skim my lips from her ear to her throat. “You’re too beautiful to be a wallflower.”

She groans and runs her fingernails over my shoulder blades as her body rises to welcome mine. She’s still slick and wet from earlier, and I ease into her and we move together, slower and sweeter this time. Her nails dig into my back as she wraps her legs around mine and she raises her hips to meet me. Over and over. Slow and sweet. She’s building.

I stop.

“Christian, don’t stop. Please,” she begs.

I love it when you beg, baby.

I move slowly and grip her hair at her nape with both hands, so she cannot turn her head. I gaze down at her, marveling at the intricate color of her irises. I move again. Slowly. In. Out. And then stop once more.

“Christian, please,” she breathes.

“It will only ever be you, Ana. Always.”

Don’t be jealous.

“I love you.” I start once more. She closes her eyes and tips her head back and comes around me, triggering my own orgasm. With a cry, I fall to her side to catch my breath. When I resurface, I turn over and pull her to me, kissing her hair.

I love waking up to Ana.

Closing my eyes, I imagine every Saturday could be like this. Anastasia Steele has given me a meaningful future, something I’ve not considered with any seriousness before. And next Saturday, I get the piece of paper that proves it.

She’ll be mine.

Until death do us part.

Ana lying on the cold, hard floor flashes before my eyes.

No!

I rub my face.

Stop. Grey. Stop.

I kiss her hair, breathing in her life-affirming fragrance, and I’m calmer.

It must be about 9 a.m. I grab my phone from my nightstand to check the time. There’s a text from Elliot.

ELLIOT

Good morning, Asshole.

I’m sitting in your vast living room

waiting for you to get your lazy ass

out here. Stop what you’re doing. Now.

You dirty dog.

What the hell?

“What is it?” Ana asks, looking tousled and fuckable.

“Elliot’s here.”

“Outside?” Ana sounds bemused.

I ease her out of my embrace. “No. He’s here.”

She frowns.

“Yeah, I don’t understand it, either.” I get up, stalk into my closet, and drag on a pair of jeans.

Elliot is sprawled on my couch, staring at his phone. “Good morning, hotshot, about time!” he hollers. “Glad you dressed for the occasion.” He eyes my naked chest and feet with amused disdain.

“What in God’s name are you doing here, dude? It’s nine a.m.”

“Yep. Surprise! Get your ass in gear. I got the day planned.”

What? “I’m supposed to take Ana shopping.”

He scoffs, disgusted. “She’s a grown woman. She can do her own damn shopping.”

“But—”

“Dude. I’m saving you. Shopping with women is hell. Go. Put some clothes on, you pervert. And for fuck’s sake have a shower. I can smell the sex from here.”

“Fuck off,” I reply without heat.