he call the houseI head into my bedroom and fire up the mean machine.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Tonight
Date: May 25 2011 23:58
To: Anastasia Steele
I hope you made it home in that car of yours.
Let me know if you're okay.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Jeez... why is he so worried about my Beetle. It has given me three years of loyal service, and Jose has always been on hand to maintain it for me. Christian's next email is from today.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soft Limits
Date: May 26 2011 17:22
To: Anastasia Steele
What can I say that I haven't already?
Happy to talk these through anytime.
You looked beautiful today.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I want to see him. I hit reply
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Soft Limits
Date: May 26 2011 19:23
To: Christian Grey
I can come over this evening to discuss if you'd like.
Ana
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soft Limits
Date: May 26 2011 19:27
To: Anastasia Steele
I'll come to you. I meant it when I said I wasn't happy about you driving that car.
I'll be with you shortly.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Holy crap... he's coming over now. I have to get one thing ready for him - the first edition Thomas Hardy books are still on the shelves in the living room. I cannot keep them. I wrap them in brown paper, and I scrawl on the wrapping a direct quote from Tess from the book:
Chapter Fifteen
"Hi." I feel unbearably shy when I open the door. Christian is standing on the porch in his jeans and leather jacket.
"Hi," he says, and his face lights up with his radiant smile. I take a moment to admire the pretty. Oh my, he's hot in leather.
"Come in."
"If I may," he says amused. He holds up a bottle of champagne as he walks in. "I thought we'd celebrate your graduation. Nothing beats a good Bollinger."
"Interesting choice of words," I comment dryly.
He grins.
"Oh, I like your ready wit, Anastasia."
"We only have teacups. We've packed all the glasses."
"TeacupsSounds good to me."
I head into the kitchen. Nervous, butterflies flooding my stomach, it's like having a panther or mountain lion all unpredictable and predatory in my living room.
"Do you want saucers as well?"
"Teacups will be fine, Anastasia," Christian calls distractedly from the living room.
When I return, he's staring at the brown parcel of books. I place the cups on the table.
"That's for you," I murmur anxiously.
Crap... this is probably going to be a fight.
"Hmm, I figured as much. Very apt quote." His long index finger absently traces the writing. "I thought I was D'Urberville, not Angel. You decided on the debasement." He gives me a brief wolfish smile. "Trust you to find something that resonates so appropriately."
"It's also a plea," I whisper. Why am I so nervous My mouth is dry.
"A pleaFor me to go easy on you?"
I nod.
"I bought these for you," he says quietly his gaze impassive. "I'll go easier on you if you accept them."
I swallow convulsively.
"Christian, I can't accept them, they're just too much."
"You see, this is what I was talking about, you defying me. I want you to have them, and that's the end of the discussion. It's very simple. You don't have to think about this.
As a submissive you would just be grateful for them. You just accept what I buy you because it pleases me for you to do so."
"I wasn't a submissive when you bought them for me," I whisper.
"No... but you've agreed, Anastasia." His eyes turn wary.
I sigh. I am not going to win this, so over to plan B.
"So they are mine to do with as I wish?"
He eyes me suspiciously, but concedes.
"Yes."
"In that case, I'd like to give them to a charity, one working in Darfur since that seems to be close to your heart. They can auction them."
"If that's what you want to do." His mouth sets into a hard line. He's disappointed.
I flush.
"I'll think about it," I murmur, I don't want to disappoint him, and his words come back to me. I want you to want to please me.
"Don't think, Anastasia. Not about this." His tone is quiet and serious.
How can I not thinkYou can pretend to be a car, like his other possessions, my subconscious makes an unwelcome vitriolic return. I ignore her. Oh, can't we rewindThe atmosphere between us is now tense. I don't know what to do. I stare down at my fingers.
How do I retrieve this situation?
He puts the champagne bottle on the table and stands in front of me. Putting his hand under my chin, he tilts my head up. He