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“He says there’s a journalist from Forbes who wants to talk to you about it.”
How the hell do they know?
“Tell Sam to deal with it,” I snap. That’s what he’s paid to do.
“Do you want to speak to him directly?” she asks.
“No.”
“Will do. I also need to RSVP to the event on Saturday.”
“Which event?”
“Chamber of Commerce Gala.”
“That’s next Saturday?” I ask, as an idea pops into my head.
“Yes, sir.”
“Hold on—” I turn to Ana, who’s jiggling her left foot but not taking her sky-blue eyes off me. “When will you be back from Georgia?”
“Friday,” she says.
“I’ll need an extra ticket, because I have a date,” I inform Andrea.
“A date?” Andrea squeaks with incredulity.
I sigh. “Yes, Andrea, that’s what I said. A date. Miss Anastasia Steele will accompany me.”
“Yes, Mr. Grey.” She sounds as if I’ve made her day.
For fuck’s sake. What is it with my staff?
“That’s all.” I hang up. “Good morning, Miss Steele.”
“Mr. Grey,” Ana says in greeting. I walk around my desk until I’m in front of her, and caress her face.
“I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful. Did you sleep well?”
“I am very well rested, thank you. I just came to say hi before I had a shower.” She’s smiling and her eyes are shining with delight. It’s a pleasure to see her like this. Before I get back to work I lean down to give her a gentle kiss. Suddenly she wraps her arms around my neck and tangles her fingers in my hair, and presses her body along the length of mine.
Whoa.
Her lips are persistent, so I respond, kissing her back, surprised by the intensity of her ardor. With one hand I cup her head, with the other her naked, recently spanked ass, and my body ignites like dry tinder.
“Well, sleep seems to agree with you.” My voice is laced with sudden lust. “I suggest you go and have your shower, or shall I lay you across my desk now?”
“I choose the desk,” she whispers at the corner of my mouth, grinding her sex against my erection.
Well, this is a surprise.
Her eyes are dark and greedy with want. “You’ve really got a taste for this, haven’t you, Miss Steele? You’re becoming insatiable.”
“I’ve only got a taste for you.”
“Damn right. Only me!” Her words are a siren’s call to my libido. Losing all self-restraint, I sweep everything off my desk, sending my papers, phone, and pens all clattering or floating to the floor, but I don’t give a damn. I lift Ana and lay her across my desk so her hair spills over the edge and onto the seat of my chair.
“You want it, you got it, baby,” I growl, whipping out the condom and unzipping my pants. Making quick work of covering my cock, I stare down at the insatiable Miss Steele. “I sure hope you’re ready,” I warn her, grabbing hold of her wrists and keeping them at her sides. With one swift move I’m inside her.
“Ah…Christ, Ana. You’re so ready.” I give her a nanosecond to adjust to my presence. Then I start to push. Back and forth. Over and over. Harder and harder. She tips her head back, mouth open in a wordless plea, as her breasts rise and fall in rhythm with each jolt to her body. She wraps her legs around me while I stand, drilling into her.
This what you want, baby?
She meets every thrust, rocking against me and moaning as I possess her. Taking her—higher and higher and higher—until I feel her stiffening around me.
“Come on, baby, give it up for me,” I grit through clenched teeth, and she does, spectacularly, crying out and sucking me into my own orgasm.
Fuck. I come as spectacularly as she does, and I slump down on top of her while her body tightens around me with aftershocks.
Damn. That was unexpected.
“What the hell are you doing to me?” I’m breathless, my lips skimming her neck. “You completely beguile me, Ana. You weave some powerful magic.”
And you jumped me!
I release her wrists and move to stand, but she tightens her legs around me, her fingers tangling in my hair.
“I’m the one beguiled,” she whispers. Our eyes are locked, her scrutiny intense, as if she’s seeing through me. Seeing the darkness in my soul.
Shit. Let me go. This is too much.
I cup her face in my hands to kiss her quickly, but as I do the unwelcome thought of her being in this position with someone else pops into my mind. No. She’s not doing this with anyone else. Ever.
“You. Are. Mine.” My words crack between us. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, yours,” she says, her expression heartfelt, her words full of conviction, and my irrational jealousy recedes.
“Are you sure you have to go to Georgia?” I ask, smoothing her hair from around her face.
She nods.
Damn.
I pull out of her and she winces.
“Are you sore?”
“A little,” she says with a timid smile.
“I like you sore. Reminds you where I’ve been, and only me.” I give her a rough, possessive kiss.
Because I don’t want her to go to Georgia.
And no one’s jumped me since…since Elena.
And even then, it was always calculated, part of a scene.
Standing, I hold out my hand and pull her to a sitting position. As I tug off the condom, she murmurs, “Always prepared.”
I give her a confounded look as I fasten my fly. She holds up the empty foil packet by way of explanation.