Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

He’s got his Ray-Bans on so I can’t see what he’s thinking. His mouth twitches slightly, and he reaches across and places his hand on my knee, squeezing gently. My breath hitches.
    “Hungry?” he asks.
    Not for food.
    “Not particularly.”
    His mouth tightens into that hard line.
    “You must eat, Anastasia,” he chides. “I know a great place near Olympia. We’ll stop there.” He squeezes my knee again, and then returns his hand to the steering wheel as he puts his foot down on the gas. I’m pressed into the back of my seat. Boy, this car can move.
    The restaurant is small and intimate, a wooden chalet in the middle of a forest. The décor is rustic: random chairs and tables with gingham tablecloths, wild flowers in little vases. Cuisine Sauvage, it boasts above the door.
    “I’ve not been here for a while. We don’t get a choice – they cook whatever they’ve caught or gathered.” He raises his eyebrows in mock horror, and I have to laugh. The waitress takes our drinks order. She flushes when she sees Christian, avoiding eye contact with him, hiding under her long blonde bangs. She likes him! It’s not just me!
    “Two glasses of the Pinot Grigio,” Christian says with a voice of authority. I purse my lips, exasperated.
    “What?” he snaps.
    “I wanted a Diet Coke,” I whisper.
    His gray eyes narrow and he shakes his head.
    “The Pinot Grigio here’s a decent wine. It will go well with the meal, whatever we get,” he says patiently.
    “Whatever we get?”
    “Yes.” He smiles his dazzling head-cocked-to-one-side smile, and my stomach pole vaults over my spleen. I can’t help but reflect his glorious smile back at him.
    “My mother liked you,” he says dryly.
    “Really?” His words make me flush with pleasure.
    “Oh yes. She’s always thought I was gay.”
    My mouth drops open, and I remember that question… from the interview. Oh no.
    “Why did she think you were gay?” I whisper.
    “Because she’s never seen me with a girl.”
    “Oh… not even one of the fifteen?”
    He smiles.
    “You remembered. No, none of the fifteen.”
    “Oh.”
    “You know, Anastasia, it’s been a weekend of firsts for me, too,” he says quietly.
    “It has?”
    “I’ve never slept with anyone, never had sex in my bed, never flown a girl in Charlie Tango, never introduced a woman to my mother. What are you doing to me?” His eyes burn, their intensity takes my breath away.
    The waitress arrives with our glasses of wine, and I immediately take a quick sip. Is he opening up or just making a casual observation?
    “I’ve really enjoyed this weekend,” I murmur. He narrows his eyes at me again.
    “Stop biting that lip,” he growls. “Me, too,” he adds.
    “What’s vanilla sex?” I ask, if anything to distract myself from the intense, burning, sexy look he’s giving me. He laughs.
    “Just straightforward sex, Anastasia. No toys, no added extras.” He shrugs. “You know… well actually you don’t, but that’s what it means.”
    “Oh.” I thought it was chocolate fudge brownie sex that we had, with a cherry on the top. But hey, what do I know?
    The waitress brings us soup. We both stare at it rather dubiously.
    “Nettle soup,” the waitress informs us before turning and flouncing back into the kitchen. I don’t think she likes to be ignored by Christian. I take a tentative taste. It’s delicious. Christian and I look up at each other at the same time with relief. I giggle, and he cocks his head to one side.
    “That’s a lovely sound,” he murmurs.
    “Why have you never had vanilla sex before? Have you always done… err, what you’ve done?” I ask, intrigued.
    He nods slowly.
    “Sort of.” His voice is wary. He frowns for a moment and seems to be engaged in some kind of internal struggle. Then he glances up, a decision made. “One of my mother’s friends seduced me when I was fifteen.”
    “Oh.” Holy shit that’s young!
    “She had very particular tastes. I was her submissive for six years.” He shrugs.
    “Oh.” My brain has frozen, stunned into inactivity by this admission.
    “So I do know what it involves, Anastasia.” His eyes glow with insight.
    I stare at him, unable to articulate anything – even my subconscious is silent.
    “I didn’t really have a run-of-the-mill introduction to sex.”
    Curiosity kicks in big time.
    “So you never dated anyone at college?”
    “No.” He shakes his head to emphasize the point.
    The waitress takes our plates,