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“Good plan,” she says. “So what shall we do for half an hour?”
Well, I could fuck you over this piano.
“I can think of a few things.” My voice is seductive.
“On the other hand, we could talk.” She smiles, provocative.
I’m not in the mood for talking. “I prefer what I have in mind.” I snake my arm around her waist, pull her into my lap, and nuzzle her hair.
“You’d always rather have sex than talk.” She laughs.
“True. Especially with you.” Her hands curl around my biceps, yet the darkness stays still and quiet. I trail kisses from the base of her ear to her throat. “Maybe on my piano,” I murmur, as my body responds to a mental image of her sprawled naked on the top, her hair spilling down over the side.
“I want to get something straight.” She speaks quietly in my ear.
“Always so eager for information, Miss Steele. What needs straightening out?” Her skin is soft and warm against my lips as I nudge her bathrobe off her shoulder with my nose.
“Us,” she says, and the simple word sounds like a prayer.
“Hmm. What about us?” I pause. Where is she going with this?
“The contract.”
I stop and stare down into her shrewd gaze. Why is she doing this now? My fingers glide down her cheek.
“Well, I think the contract is moot, don’t you?”
“Moot?” she says, and her lips soften with the hint of a smile.
“Moot.” I mirror her expression.
“But you were so keen.” Uncertainty clouds Ana’s eyes.
“Well, that was before. Anyway, the rules aren’t moot, they still stand.” I need to know you’re safe.
“Before? Before what?”
“Before—” Before all this. Before you turned my world upside down, before you sleeping with me. Before you laid your head on my shoulder at the piano. It’s all . . . “More,” I murmur, driving away the now-familiar unease in my gut.
“Oh,” she says, and I think she’s pleased.
“Besides, we’ve been in the playroom twice now, and you haven’t run screaming for the hills.”
“Do you expect me to?”
“Nothing you do is expected, Anastasia.”
The v between her brows is back. “So, let me be clear. You just want me to follow the rules element of the contract all the time, but not the rest of the contract?”
“Except in the playroom. I want you to follow the spirit of the contract in the playroom, and yes, I want you to follow the rules—all the time. Then I’ll know you’re safe. And I’ll be able to have you anytime I wish,” I add flippantly.
“And if I break one of the rules?” she asks.
“Then I’ll punish you.”
“But won’t you need my permission?”
“Yes, I will.”
“And if I say no?” she persists.
Why is she being so willful?
“If you say no, you’ll say no. I’ll have to find a way to persuade you.” She should know this. She didn’t let me spank her in the boathouse, and I wanted to. But I got to do it later that evening…with her approval.
She stands and walks toward the entrance of the living room, and for a moment I think she’s storming off, but she turns, her expression perplexed. “So the punishment aspect remains.”
“Yes, but only if you break the rules.” This is clear to me. Why not to her?
“I’ll need to reread them,” she says, suddenly all businesslike.
She wants to do this now?
“I’ll fetch them for you.”
In my study I fire up my computer and print out the rules, wondering why we are discussing this at five in the morning.
She’s at the sink, drinking a glass of water, when I return with the printout. I sit down on a stool and wait, watching her. Her back is stiff and tense; this does not bode well. When she turns around I slide the sheet of paper toward her across the kitchen island.
“Here you go.”
She scans the rules quickly. “So the obedience thing still stands?”
“Oh yes.”
She shakes her head, and an ironic smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as her eyes dart to the heavens.
Oh joy.
My spirits suddenly lift.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Anastasia?”
“Possibly. Depends what your reaction is.” She looks wary and amused at once.
“Same as always.” If she’ll let me…
She swallows and her eyes widen with anticipation. “So…”
“Yes?”
“You want to spank me now?”
“Yes. And I will.”
“Oh, really, Mr. Grey?” She folds her arms, her chin thrust upward in a challenge.
“Are you going to stop me?”
“You’re going to have to catch me first.” She wears a coquettish smile, which addresses my dick directly.
She wants to play.
I ease myself off the stool, watching her carefully. “Oh, really, Miss Steele?” The air almost crackles between us.
Which way will she run?
Her eyes are on mine, brimming with excitement. Her teeth tease her lower lip.
“And you’re biting your lip.” Is she doing it on purpose? I move slowly to my left.
“You wouldn’t,” she taunts. “After all, you roll your eyes.” With her eyes fixed on me, she, too, moves to her left.
“Yes, but you’ve just raised the bar on the excitement stakes with this game.”
“I’m quite fast, you know,” she teases.