Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,175

up two logs and marches out of the garage. Elliot sighs and swings his leg off the bike and follows her.

I turn back to Ana. “You can ride a motorcycle?”

“Not very well. Ethan taught me.”

Did he, now? My sister and my wife…

“You made the right decision. The ground’s very hard at the moment, and the rain’s made it treacherous and slippery.”

“Where do you want the fishing gear?” Ethan asks.

“Leave it, Ethan—Taylor will take care of it.”

“What about the fish?” Ethan continues, his voice vaguely taunting.

“You caught a fish?” Ana asks.

No. “Not me. Kavanagh did.” I pout.

Ana starts laughing.

“Mrs. Bentley will deal with that,” I call. With a smug grin, Ethan takes it into the house. “Am I amusing you, Mrs. Grey?”

“Very much so. You’re wet. Let me run you a bath.”

“As long as you join me.” I plant a kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you up in the bedroom. I’ve just got to get out of my coveralls.”

Ana cocks her head to the side.

“Do you want to watch?” I grin at her.

“Always. But right now, I’ll go run your bath, Sir.”

I smirk and watch her leave, then head into the mudroom.

“Man, that was great,” Ethan says, as he strips out of his waders.

“Yeah. It’s a good spot.”

“I’m happy to sort the gear.” He sounds sincere.

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

“No, man. Your wife is waiting for you. I’ll bring it in.” He waves me away as he goes back out to the truck. I don’t argue; instead, I strip out of my gear and leave the coveralls on a peg in the mudroom.

On my way to join Ana, I run into Mia at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, big brother.” She hugs me, taking me by surprise.

“Mia.” I think she’s a little tipsy.

“Where’s Ethan?”

“He’s outside. Unloading the truck.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “Christian Grey, did you make him unload it on his own?”

“He offered.”

“You know, I don’t hear from you at all since you got married. It’s like I don’t exist.” She sounds sullen.

“Hey.” I kiss her forehead. “You exist. How about I take you for lunch next week?”

She claps her hands in delight.

“What have you been drinking?” I call after her.

“Strawberry daiquiris.” She dashes out to find Ethan and I shake my head.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I go in search of my wife.

Ana is hanging a silvery-looking garment in the closet. She must have bought it in town. “Did you have a good time?” I ask, as I enter and close the door.

“Yes,” she says, staring at me.

“What is it?”

“I was thinking how much I’ve missed you.”

My heart skips a beat at the warmth in her voice. “You sound like you have it bad, Mrs. Grey.”

“I have, Mr. Grey,” she whispers.

I stroll over and stand before her, feeling the heat emanating from her body. “What did you buy?” I whisper, basking in her warmth.

“A dress, some shoes, a necklace. I spent a great deal of your money.” She peers up at me as if she’s guilty of some terrible crime.

Oh, this will never do.

“Good,” I stress quietly while my fingers ease a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “And for the billionth time, our money.” The scent of jasmine and the sound of the bath filling with water drift from the en suite. With a gentle tug, I release her bottom lip from her teeth. I run my index finger down the front of her T-shirt, between her breasts, over her stomach and belly, to the hem. “You won’t be needing this in the bath.” I grip her T-shirt with both hands and slowly pull it up. “Lift your arms.” Ana cooperates, her luminous eyes on mine, and I tug off her top, dropping it on the floor.

“I thought we were just having a bath.” Her voice is breathy with desire.

“I want to make you good and dirty first. I’ve missed you, too.” I lean down and kiss her. Her hands creep into my hair as she welcomes the touch of my lips, and we’re soon lost in each other.

Ana’s head is off the side of the bed, tipped back as she cries out her orgasm. Her response triggers mine, and I come fast and hard inside her. Panting, I pull her onto my chest and we lie dazed and replete while I stare up at the ceiling.

“Shit, the water!” Ana cries, and tries to sit up. I keep hold of her.

Don’t go.

“Christian, the bath!” She stares down at me in horror.

I laugh.