Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

uncertain all of a sudden.
    Oh my… where’s this going?
    He clasps my hand.
    “Outside of the time you’re my sub, perhaps we could try. I don’t know if it will work. I don’t know about separating everything. It may not work. But I’m willing to try. Maybe one night a week. I don’t know.”
    Holy cow… my mouth drops open, my subconscious is in shock. Christian Grey is up for more! He’s willing to try! My subconscious peeks out from behind the couch, still registering shock on her harpy face.
    “I have one condition.” He looks warily at my stunned expression.
    “What?” I breathe. Anything. I’ll give you anything.
    “You graciously accept my graduation present to you.”
    “Oh.” And deep down I know what it is. Dread spawns in my belly.
    He’s staring down at me, gauging my reaction.
    “Come,” he murmurs and rises, dragging me up. Taking his jacket off, he drapes it over my shoulders and heads for the door.
    Parked outside is a red hatchback car, a two-door compact Audi.
    “It’s for you. Happy graduation,” he murmurs, pulling me into his arms and kissing my hair.
    He’s bought me a damned car, brand new by the looks of it. Jeez… I’ve had enough trouble with the books. I stare at it blankly, trying desperately to determine how I feel about this. I am appalled on one level, grateful on another, shocked that he’s actually done it, but the overriding emotion is anger. Yes, I’m angry, especially after everything I told him about the books… but then he’d already bought this. Taking my hand, he leads me down the path toward this new acquisition.
    “Anastasia, that Beetle of yours is old and frankly dangerous. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you when it’s so easy for me to make it right,” he trails off.
    His eyes are on me, but at the moment I cannot bring myself to look at him. I stand silently staring at its awesome bright red newness.
    “I mentioned it to your stepfather. He was all for it,” he murmurs.
    Turning, I glare at him, my mouth open in horror.
    “You mentioned this to Ray? How could you?” I can barely spit the words out. How dare he? Poor Ray. I feel sick, mortified for my dad.
    “It’s a gift, Anastasia. Can’t you just say thank you?”
    “But you know it’s too much.”
    “Not to me it isn’t, not for my peace of mind.”
    I frown at him, at a loss what to say. He just doesn’t get it! He’s had money all his life. Okay, not all his life – not as a small child – and my world view shifts. The thought is very sobering, and I soften toward the car, feeling guilty about my fit of pique. His intentions are good, misguided, but not from a bad place.
    “I’m happy for you to loan this to me, like the laptop.”
    He sighs heavily.
    “Okay. On loan. Indefinitely.” He looks warily at me.
    “No, not indefinitely, but for now. Thank you.”
    He frowns. I reach up and kiss him briefly on his cheek.
    “Thank you for the car, sir.” I say as sweetly as I can manage.
    He grabs me suddenly and yanks me up against him, one hand at my back holding me to him and the other fisting in my hair.
    “You are one challenging woman, Ana Steele.” He kisses me passionately, forcing my lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners.
    My blood heats immediately, and I’m returning his kiss with my own passion. I want him badly – in spite of the car, the books, the soft limits… the caning… I want him.
    “It’s taking all my self-control not to fuck you on the hood of this car right now, just to show you that you are mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I’ll buy you a fucking car,” he growls. “Now let’s get you inside and naked.” He plants a swift rough kiss on me.
    Boy, he’s angry. He grabs my hand and leads me back into the apartment and straight into my bedroom… no passing go. My subconscious is behind the sofa again, head hidden under her hands. He switches on the sidelight and halts, staring at me.
    “Please don’t be angry with me,” I whisper.
    His gaze is impassive; his gray eyes cold shards of smoky glass.
    “I’m sorry about the car and the books,” I trail off. He remains silent and brooding. “You scare me when you’re angry,” I breathe, staring at him.
    He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, his expression has softened fractionally. He takes a deep breath and swallows.
    “Turn round,” he whispers. “I want to get you out of that dress.”
    Another mercurial