Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

He’s concentrating hard, and he’s continually glancing at the various dials in front of him. I drink in his features from beneath my lashes. He has a beautiful profile. Straight nose, square jawed – I’d like to run my tongue along his jaw. He hasn’t shaved, and his stubble makes the prospect doubly tempting. Hmm… I’d like to feel how rough it is beneath my tongue, my fingers, against my face.
    “When you fly at night, you fly blind. You have to trust the instrumentation,” he interrupts my erotic reverie.
    “How long will the flight be?” I manage breathlessly. I wasn’t thinking about sex at all, no, no way.
    “Less than an hour, the wind is in our favor.”
    Hmm, less than an hour to Seattle … that’s not bad going. No wonder we’re flying.
    I have less than an hour before the big reveal. All the muscles clench deep in my belly. I have a serious case of butterflies. They are flourishing in my stomach. Holy shit, what has he got in store for me?
    “You okay, Anastasia?”
    “Yes.” My answer is short, clipped, squeezed out through my nerves.
    I think he smiles, but it’s difficult to tell in the darkness. Christian flicks yet another switch.
    “PDX this is Charlie Tango now at one four thousand, over.” He exchanges information with air traffic control. It all sounds very professional to me. I think we’re moving from Portland’s air space to Seattle International Airport’s.
    “Understood Sea-Tac, standing by, over and out.”
    “Look, over there.” He points to a small pinpoint of light in the far distance. “That’s Seattle.”
    “Do you always impress women this way? ‘Come and fly in my helicopter’?” I ask, genuinely interested.
    “I’ve never brought a girl up here, Anastasia. It’s another first for me.” His voice is quiet, serious.
    Oh, that was an unexpected answer. Another first? Oh the sleeping thing, perhaps?
    “Are you impressed?”
    “I’m awed, Christian.”
    He smiles.
    “Awed?” And for a brief moment, he’s his age again.
    I nod.
    “You’re just so… competent.”
    “Why, thank you, Miss Steele,” he says politely. I think he’s pleased, but I’m not sure.
    We ride into the dark night in silence for a while. The bright spot that is Seattle is slowly getting bigger.
    “Sea-Tac tower to Charlie Tango. Flight plan to Escala in place. Please proceed. And standby. Over.”
    “This is Charlie Tango, understood Sea-Tac. Standing by, over and out.”
    “You obviously enjoy this,” I murmur.
    “What?” He glances at me. He looks quizzical in the half-light of the instruments.
    “Flying,” I reply.
    “It requires control and concentration… how could I not love it? Though, my favorite is soaring.”
    “Soaring?”
    “Yes. Gliding, to the layperson. Gliders and helicopters – I fly them both.”
    “Oh.” Expensive hobbies. I remember him telling me during the interview. I like reading and occasionally going to the movies. I am out of my depth here.
    “Charlie Tango come in please, over.” The disembodied voice of air traffic control interrupts my reverie. Christian answers, sounding in control and confident.
    Seattle is getting closer. We are on the very outskirts now. Wow! It looks absolutely stunning. Seattle at night, from the sky…
    “Looks good, doesn’t it?” Christian murmurs.
    I nod enthusiastically. It looks otherworldly – unreal – and I feel like I’m on a giant film set; José’s favorite film maybe, Bladerunner. The memory of José’s attempted kiss haunts me. I’m beginning to feel a bit cruel not calling him back. He can wait until tomorrow… surely.
    “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Christian mutters, and suddenly my blood is pounding in my ears as my heartbeat accelerates and adrenaline spikes through my system. He starts talking to air traffic control again, but I am no longer listening. Oh my… I think I’m going to faint. My fate is in his hands.
    We are now flying amongst the buildings, and up ahead I can see a tall skyscraper with a helipad on top. The word Escala is painted in white on top of the building. It’s getting nearer and nearer, bigger and bigger… like my anxiety. God, I hope I don’t let him down. He’ll find me lacking in some way. I wish I’d listened to Kate and borrowed one of her dresses, but I like my black jeans, and I’m wearing a soft mint green shirt and Kate’s black jacket. I look smart enough. I grip the edge of my seat tighter and tighter. I can do this.