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She follows me and sits in the leather chair in front of my desk as I lean against it, arms folded.
This is what she wants to know. It’s a blessing that she’s curious—she hasn’t run yet. From the contract laid out on my desk I take one of the pages and hand it to her. “These are the rules. They may be subject to change. They form part of the contract, which you can also have. Read these rules and let’s discuss.”
Her eyes scan the page. “Hard limits?” she asks.
“Yes. What you won’t do, what I won’t do, we need to specify in our agreement.”
“I’m not sure about accepting money for clothes. It feels wrong.”
“I want to lavish money on you. Let me buy you some clothes. I may need you to accompany me to functions.”
Grey, what are you saying? This would be a first. “And I want you dressed well. I’m sure your salary, when you do get a job, won’t cover the kind of clothes I’d like you to wear.”
“I don’t have to wear them when I’m not with you?”
“No.”
“Okay. I don’t want to exercise four times a week.”
“Anastasia, I need you supple, strong, and with stamina. Trust me, you need to exercise.”
“But surely not four times a week. How about three?”
“I want you to do four.”
“I thought this was a negotiation?”
Again, she’s disarming, calling me out on my shit. “Okay, Miss Steele, another point well made. How about an hour on three days and one day half an hour?”
“Three days, three hours. I get the impression you’re going to keep me exercised when I’m here.”
Oh, I hope so.
“Yes, I am. Okay, agreed. Are you sure you don’t want to intern at my company? You’re a good negotiator.”
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Of course she’s right. And it’s my number-one rule: never fuck the staff.
“So, limits. These are mine.” I hand her the list.
This is it, shit-or-bust time. I know my limits by heart, and mentally tick off the list as I watch her read through. Her face grows paler and paler as she nears the end.
Fuck, I hope this isn’t frightening her off.
I want her. I want her submission…badly. She swallows, glancing nervously up at me. How can I persuade her to give this a try? I should reassure her, show her that I’m capable of caring.
“Is there anything you’d like to add?”
Deep down I hope she won’t add anything. I want carte blanche with her. She stares at me, still at a loss for words. It’s irritating. I’m not used to waiting for answers. “Is there anything you won’t do?” I prompt.
“I don’t know.”
Not the response I was expecting.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
She shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable, her teeth toying with her bottom lip. Again. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
Hell, of course she hasn’t.
Patience, Grey. For fuck’s sake. You’ve thrown a great deal of information at her. I continue my gentle approach. It’s novel.
“Well, when you’ve had sex, was there anything that you didn’t like doing?” And I’m reminded of the photographer fumbling all over her yesterday.
She flushes and my interest is piqued. What has she done that she didn’t like? Is she adventurous in bed? She seems so—innocent. Normally I don’t find that attractive.
“You can tell me, Anastasia. We have to be honest with each other or this isn’t going to work.” I really have to encourage her to loosen up—she won’t even talk about sex. She’s squirming again and staring at her fingers.
Come on, Ana.
“Tell me,” I order. Sweet Lord, she’s frustrating.
“Well, I’ve not had sex before, so I don’t know,” she whispers.
The earth stops spinning.
I don’t fucking believe it.
How?
Why?
Fuck!
“Never?” I’m incredulous.
She shakes her head, eyes wide.
“You’re a virgin?” I don’t believe it.
She nods, embarrassed. I close my eyes. I can’t look at her.
How the hell did I get this so wrong?
Anger lances through me. What can I do with a virgin? I glare at her as fury surges through my body.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I growl, and start pacing my study. What do I want with a virgin? She shrugs apologetically, at a loss for words.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” The exasperation is clear in my voice.
“The subject never came up,” she says. “I’m not in the habit of revealing my sexual status to everyone I meet. I mean, we hardly know each other.”
As ever, it’s a fair point. I can’t believe I’ve given her the bus tour of my playroom—thank heavens for the NDA.
“Well, you know a lot more about me now,” I snarl. “I knew you were inexperienced, but a virgin! Hell, Ana, I just showed you…”
Not only the playroom: my rules, hard limits. She knows nothing. How could I do this? “May God forgive me,” I mutter under my breath. I’m at a loss.
A startling thought occurs to me—our one kiss in the elevator, where I could have fucked her there and then—was that her first kiss?
“Have you ever been kissed, apart from by me?” Please say yes.
“Of course I have.” She looks offended. Yeah, she’s been kissed, but not often. And for some reason the thought is…pleasing.