Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

to me.
    “You’re not going to come as well, are you?” I gasp, shocked.
    He laughs.
    “I’d pay very good money to watch, believe me, Anastasia, but I don’t think the good doctor would approve.”
    I take his hand, and he pulls me up into his arms and kisses me deeply. I clutch on to his arms, taken by surprise. His hand is in my hair holding my head, and he pulls me against him, his forehead against mine.
    “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers. “I can’t wait to get you naked.”

Dr. Greene is tall, blonde, and immaculate, dressed in a royal blue suit. I’m reminded of the women who work in Christian’s office. She’s like an identikit model – another Stepford blonde. Her long hair is swept up in an elegant chignon. She must be in her early forties.
    “Mr. Grey.” She shakes Christian’s outstretched hand.
    “Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Christian says.
    “Thank you for making it worth my while, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele.” She smiles, her eyes cool and assessing.
    We shake hands, and I know she’s one of those women who doesn’t tolerate fools gladly. Like Kate. I like her immediately. She gives Christian a pointed stare, and after an awkward beat, he takes his cue.
    “I’ll be downstairs,” he mutters, and he leaves what will be my bedroom.
    “Well, Miss Steele. Mr. Grey is paying me a small fortune to attend to you. What can I do for you?”
    After a thorough examination and lengthy discussion, Dr. Greene and I decide on the mini pill. She writes me a prepaid prescription and instructs me to pick the pills up tomorrow. I love her no-nonsense attitude – she has lectured me until she’s as blue as her dress about taking it at the same time every day. And I can tell she’s burning with curiosity about my so-called relationship with Mr. Grey. I don’t give her any details. Somehow I don’t think she’d look so calm and collected if she’d seen his Red Room of Pain. I flush as we pass its closed door and head back downstairs to the art gallery that is Christian’s living room.
    Christian is reading, seated on his couch. A breathtaking aria is playing on the music system, swirling round him, cocooning him, filling the room with a sweet, soulful song. For a moment, he looks serene. He turns and glances at us when we enter and smiles warmly at me.
    “Are you done?” he asks as if he’s genuinely interested. He points the remote at a sleek white box beneath the fireplace that houses his iPod, and the exquisite melody fades but continues in the background. Standing, he strolls towards us.
    “Yes, Mr. Grey. Look after her; she’s a beautiful, bright young woman.”
    Christian is taken aback – as am I. What an inappropriate thing for a doctor to say. Is she giving him some kind of not-so-subtle warning? Christian recovers himself.
    “I fully intend to,” he mutters, bemused.
    Gazing at him, I shrug, embarrassed.
    “I’ll send you my bill,” she says crisply as she shakes his hand.
    “Good day, and good luck to you, Ana.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling, as we shake hands.
    Taylor appears from nowhere to escort her through the double doors and out to the elevator. How does he do that? Where does he lurk?
    “How was that?” Christian asks.
    “Fine, thank you. She said that I had to abstain from all sexual activity for the next four weeks.”
    Christian’s mouth drops open in shock, and I cannot keep a straight face any longer and grin at him like an idiot.
    “Gotcha!”
    He narrows his eyes, and I immediately stop laughing. In fact, he looks rather forbidding. Oh shit. My subconscious quails in the corner as all the blood drains from my face, and I imagine him putting me across his knee again.
    “Gotcha!” he says and smirks. He grabs me around my waist and pulls me up against him. “You are incorrigible, Miss Steele,” he murmurs, staring down into my eyes as he weaves his fingers into my hair, holding me firmly in place. He kisses me, hard, and I cling on to his muscular arms for support.
    “As much as I’d like to take you here, now, you need to eat and so do I. I don’t want you passing out on me later,” he murmurs against my lips.
    “Is that all you want me for – my body?” I whisper.
    “That and your smart mouth,” he breathes.
    He kisses me again passionately, and then abruptly releases me, taking my hand and leading me to the kitchen. I am reeling. One minute we’re joking and the next… I fan my heated face. He’s just sex