Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

car, walking with easy, long-legged grace round to my side to open the door, ever the gentleman – except perhaps in rare, precious moments in elevators. I flush at the memory of his mouth on mine, and the thought that I’d been unable to touch him enters my mind. I wanted to run my fingers through his decadent, untidy hair, but I’d been unable to move my hands. I am retrospectively frustrated.
    “I liked what happened in the elevator,” I murmur as I climb out of the car. I’m not sure if I hear an audible gasp, but I choose to ignore it and head up the steps to the front door.
    Kate and Elliot are sitting at our dining table. The fourteen-thousand-dollar books have disappeared. Thank heavens. I have plans for them. She has the most un-Kate ridiculous grin on her face, and she looks mussed up in a sexy kind of way. Christian follows me into the living area, and in spite of her I’ve-been-having-a-good-time-all-night grin, Kate eyes him suspiciously.
    “Hi, Ana.” She leaps up to hug me, then holds me at arm’s length so she can examine me. She frowns and turns to Christian.
    “Good morning, Christian,” she says, and her tone is a little hostile.
    “Miss Kavanagh,” he says in his stiff formal way.
    “Christian, her name is Kate,” Elliot grumbles.
    “Kate.” Christian gives her a polite nod and glares at Elliot who grins and rises to hug me, too.
    “Hi, Ana,” he smiles, his blue eyes twinkling, and I like him immediately. He’s obviously nothing like Christian, but then they’re adopted brothers.
    “Hi, Elliot,” I smile at him, and I’m aware that I’m biting my lip.
    “Elliot, we’d better go.” Christian says mildly.
    “Sure.” He turns to Kate and pulls her into his arms and gives her a long lingering kiss.
    Jeez… get a room. I stare at my feet, embarrassed. I glance up at Christian, and he’s watching me intently. I narrow my eyes at him. Why can’t you kiss me like that? Elliot continues to kiss Kate, sweeping her off her feet and dipping her in a dramatic hold so that her hair touches the ground as he kisses her hard.
    “Laters, baby,” he grins.
    Kate just melts. I’ve never seen her melt before – the words comely and compliant come to mind. Compliant Kate. Boy, Elliot must be good. Christian rolls his eyes and stares down at me, his expression unreadable, although maybe he’s mildly amused. He tucks a stray strand of my hair that has worked its way free from my ponytail behind my ear. My breath hitches at the contact, and I lean my head slightly into his fingers. His eyes soften, and he runs his thumb across my lower lip. My blood sears in my veins. And all too quickly, his touch is gone.
    “Laters, baby,” he murmurs, and I have to laugh because it’s so unlike him. But even though I know he’s being irreverent, the endearment tugs at something deep inside me.
    “I’ll pick you up at eight.” He turns to leave, opening the front door and stepping out on to the porch. Elliot follows him to the car but turns and blows Kate another kiss, and I feel an unwelcome pang of jealousy.
    “So, did you?” Kate asks as we watch them climb into the car and drive off, the burning curiosity evident in her voice.
    “No,” I snap irritably, hoping that will halt the questions. We head back into the apartment. “You obviously did, though.” I can’t contain my envy. Kate always manages to ensnare men. She is irresistible, beautiful, sexy, funny, forward… all the things that I’m not. But her answering grin is infectious.
    “And I’m seeing him again this evening.” She claps her hands and jumps up and down like a small child. She cannot contain her excitement and happiness, and I can’t help but feel happy for her. A happy Kate… this is going to be interesting.
    “Christian is taking me to Seattle this evening.”
    “Seattle?”
    “Yes.”
    “Maybe you will then ?”
    “Oh, I hope so.”
    “You like him, then?”
    “Yes.”
    “Like him enough to…?”
    “Yes.”
    She raises her eyebrows.
    “Wow. Ana Steele, finally falling for a man, and it’s Christian Grey – hot, sexy billionaire.”
    “Oh yeah – it’s all about the money.” I smirk, and we both fall into a fit of giggles.
    “Is that a new blouse?” she asks, and I let her have all the unexciting details about my night.
    “Has he kissed you yet?” she asks as she makes coffee.
    I blush.
    “Once.”
    “Once!” she scoffs.
    I nod, rather shamefaced.
    “He’s very reserved.”
    She