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“Number of women you’ve, um…had sex with.”
Oh, shit. “Not exactly.”
Her smile vanishes. “You said fifteen.”
“I was referring to the number of women in my playroom. I thought that’s what you meant. You didn’t ask me how many women I’d had sex with.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “Vanilla?” she asks.
“No. You are my one vanilla conquest.” And for some strange reason, I feel insanely pleased with myself. “I can’t give you a number. I didn’t put notches in the bedpost or anything.”
“What are we talking—tens, hundreds…thousands?”
“Tens. We’re in the tens, for pity’s sake.” I feign outrage.
“All submissives?”
“Yes.”
“Stop grinning at me,” she says haughtily, trying and failing to stifle hers.
“I can’t. You’re funny.” And I feel a little light-headed as we beam at each other.
“Funny peculiar or funny ha-ha?”
“A bit of both, I think.”
“That’s damned cheeky, coming from you,” she says.
I kiss her nose to prepare her. “This will shock you, Anastasia. Ready?”
Her eyes are wide and eager, full of delight.
Tell her.
“All submissives in training, when I was training. There are places in and around Seattle that one can go and practice. Learn to do what I do.”
“Oh,” she exclaims.
“Yep, I’ve paid for sex, Anastasia.”
“That’s nothing to be proud of,” she scolds me. “And you’re right, I am deeply shocked. And cross that I can’t shock you.”
“You wore my underwear.”
“Did that shock you?”
“Yes. You didn’t wear your panties to meet my parents.”
Her delight is restored. “Did that shock you?”
“Yes.”
“It seems I can only shock you in the underwear department.”
“You told me you were a virgin. That’s the biggest shock I’ve ever had.”
“Yes, your face was a picture, a Kodak moment.” She giggles, and her face lights up.
“You let me work you over with a riding crop.” I’m grinning like the fucking Cheshire cat. When have I ever stretched out naked beside a woman and just talked?
“Did that shock you?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I may let you do it again.”
“Oh, I do hope so, Miss Steele. This weekend?”
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay?”
“Yes. I’ll go to the Red Room of Pain again.”
“You say my name.”
“That shocks you?”
“The fact that I like it shocks me.”
“Christian,” she whispers, and the sound of my name from her lips spreads warmth through my body.
Ana.
“I want to do something tomorrow.”
“What?”
“A surprise. For you.”
She yawns.
Enough. She’s tired.
“Am I boring you, Miss Steele?”
“Never,” she confesses. I lean across and give her a quick kiss.
“Sleep,” I order, and switch off the bedside light.
And a few moments later I hear her even breathing; she’s fast asleep. I pull a sheet over her, roll onto my back, and stare up at the whirring ceiling fan.
Well, talking isn’t so bad.
Today worked out after all.
Thank you, Elena…
And with a sated smile, I close my eyes.
THURSDAY, JUNE 2, 2011
* * *
“No. Don’t leave me.” The whispered words penetrate my slumber, and I stir and wake.
What was that?
I look around the room. Where the hell am I?
Oh yes, Savannah.
“No. Please. Don’t leave me.”
What? It’s Ana. “I’m not going anywhere,” I mutter, bemused. Turning, I prop myself up on my elbow. She’s huddled beside me and she looks like she’s asleep.
“I won’t leave you,” she mumbles.
My scalp prickles. “I’m very glad to hear that.”
She sighs.
“Ana?” I whisper. But she doesn’t react. Her eyes are closed. She’s fast asleep. She must be dreaming…what is she dreaming about?
“Christian,” she says.
“Yes,” I respond automatically.
But she says nothing; she’s definitely asleep, but I’ve never heard her talk in her sleep before.
I watch her, fascinated. Her face is illuminated by ambient light from the living area. Her brow crinkles for a moment, as if an unpleasant thought is plaguing her, then it’s smooth once more. With her lips parted as she breathes, her face soft in sleep, she’s beautiful.
And she doesn’t want me to go, and she won’t leave me. The candor of her subconscious admission sweeps through me like a summer breeze, leaving warmth and hope in its wake.
She’s not going to leave me.
Well, you have your answer, Grey.
I smile down at her. She seems to have settled and stopped talking. I check the time on the radio alarm: 4:57.
It’s time to get up anyway, and I’m elated. I’m going soaring. With Ana. I love soaring. I place a quick kiss on her temple, rise, and head into the main room of the suite, where I order breakfast and check the local weather report.
Another hot day with high humidity. No rain.
I shower quickly, dry myself, then gather Ana’s clothes from the bathroom and lay them out on a chair near the bed. As I pick up her panties I remember how my devious plan to confiscate her underwear backfired.