Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,227

help… Cab guy? Maybe. He hauls me to my feet.

“One too many, eh?”

“Yeah. More than one. I think.” I make a half-assed attempt to brush myself down, and the driver climbs back into his car. Turning around, I start to sway and use forward momentum to stagger into the building and over to the elevator. I’ll be okay if I can just get to bed. The elevator doors open and I stumble inside. I punch in the code…the elevator doesn’t move.

I try again.

Nothing.

Hell.

One more time.

I close one eye and jab at the buttons. That does the trick! The doors slide shut and the elevator hums, indicating some movement on its part… Wait, no—everything is moving. I lean against the wall and close my eyes to stop the spinning. The ping sounds. I’m here! I open my eyes and stumble out into the foyer.

Fuck. I bump into something.

Who the hell moved the foyer table?

“Shit!” Placing my hands on the table, I steady myself, but it fucking moves again, the scraping sound grating on what’s left of my nerves.

“Shit!” I make it to the double doors.

“Christian, are you okay?”

I look up, and there she is, dressed like a goddess on the silver screen.

Ana. My own Aphrodite. My wife. My heart fills with love and light. She’s so beautiful. “Mrs. Grey.” The doorjamb holds me up. “Oh, you look mighty fine, Anastashia.”

Suddenly she’s closer and I have to squint to bring her into focus.

“Where have you been?” She sounds worried.

Oh, no. I mustn’t tell her. She’ll be mad as hell. I bring my fingers to my lips. “Shh!”

“I think you’d better come to bed.”

Bed. With Ana. There is nowhere I would rather be. “With you.” I give her my best smile, but she’s frowning.

“Let me help you to bed. Lean on me.” She wraps her arm around my middle, and I lean against her, catching the scent of her hair.

Nectar. “You are very beautiful, Ana.”

“Christian, walk! I am going to put you to bed.”

She’s so bossy! But I want her happy. “Okay.” We move. Together. Down the corridor. One slow step at a time. And then we’re in our bedroom. “Bed.” It is a most welcome sight.

“Yes, bed,” Ana says. Her face is a blur. But it’s still lovely. I hold her to me.

“Join me.”

“Christian, I think you need some sleep.”

Oh, no. “And so it begins. I’ve heard about this.”

“Heard about what?”

“Babies mean no sex.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Otherwise we’d all come from one-child families.”

Mrs. Grey has an answer for everything, with her smart mouth. “You’re funny.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Yes.” Very.

To forget.

There you are, you little shit.

“Come on, Christian,” Ana says. Gentle, compassionate Ana. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Suddenly I am on the bed.

It’s so comfortable.

I should just stay here.

She stands over me, dressed in silk or satin, as tempting as Eve herself. I hold my arms out to her. “Join me.”

“Let’s get you undressed first.”

Hmm… Naked. With Ana. “Now you’re talking.”

“Sit up. Let me take your jacket off.”

“The room is spinning.”

“Christian. Sit up!”

I smile up at her. “Mrs. Grey, you are a bossy little thing.”

“Yes. Do as you’re told and sit up.” She places her hands on her hips. She’s trying to look stern…I think. But she just looks lovely.

My wife.

My beloved wife.

Slowly, I wrestle with the bed, to sit up.

I win.

She grabs my tie.

And I think she’s trying to undress me. She’s close. So close. I drink in her unique scent. “You smell good.”

“You smell of hard liquor.”

“Yes. Bour. Bon.” Oh shit—the room is a carousel again. To keep myself anchored to the bed, I rest my hands on Ana, and the spinning slows. Her nightgown is warm and soft, augmenting her body heat. “I like the feel of this fabric on you, Anastay-shia. You should always be in satin or silk.”

Of course. It’s not just her now. I jerk her closer. I want to talk to Junior. We need to set some ground rules. “And we have an invader in here. You’re going to keep me awake, aren’t you?”

Ana’s hands are in my hair. I raise my face up to her. My Madonna. Mother of my child. And in that moment, I tell her my darkest fear. “You’ll choose him over me.”

“Christian, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t be ridiculous—I am not choosing anyone over anyone. And he might be a she.”

“A she. Oh God.”

A girl?

A baby girl?

No. The room won’t stop spinning and I fall back on the bed…

Baby Mia, with her shock of dark hair and watchful