Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

base of my spine as he pushes me against his body.
    “I can’t persuade you to stay?” he breathes between kisses.
    “No.”
    “Spend the night with me.”
    “And not touch you? No.”
    He groans.
    “You impossible girl.” He pulls back, gazing down at me. “Why do I think you’re telling me goodbye?”
    “Because I’m leaving now.”
    “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
    “Christian, I have to think about this. I don’t know if I can have the kind of relationship you want.”
    He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine, giving us both the opportunity to slow our breathing. After a moment, he kisses my forehead, inhales deeply, his nose in my hair, and then he releases me, stepping back.
    “As you wish, Miss Steele,” he says, his face impassive. “I’ll escort you to the lobby.” He holds out his hand. Leaning down, I grab my purse and place my hand in his. Holy crap, this could be it. I follow him meekly down the grand stairs and into the lobby, my scalp prickling, my blood pumping. This could be the last goodbye if I decide to say no. My heart contracts painfully in my chest. What a turnaround. What a difference a moment of clarity can make to a girl.
    “Do you have your valet ticket?”
    I fish into my clutch purse and hand him the ticket, which he gives to the doorman. I peek up at him as we stand waiting.
    “Thank you for dinner,” I murmur.
    “It’s a pleasure as always, Miss Steele,” he says politely, though he looks deep in thought, completely distracted.
    As I peer up at him, I commit his beautiful profile to memory. The idea that I might not see him again haunts me, unwelcome and too painful to contemplate. He turns suddenly, staring down at me, his expression intense.
    “You’re moving this weekend to Seattle. If you make the right decision, can I see you on Sunday?” He sounds hesitant.
    “We’ll see. Maybe,” I breathe. Momentarily, he looks relieved, and then he frowns.
    “It’s cooler now, don’t you have a jacket?”
    “No.”
    He shakes his head in irritation and takes off his jacket.
    “Here. I don’t want you catching cold.”
    I blink up at him as he holds it open, and as I hold my arms out behind me, I’m reminded of the time in his office when he slipped my coat onto my shoulders – the first time I met him – and the effect he had on me then. Nothing’s changed; in fact, it’s more intense. His jacket is warm, far too big, and it smells of him. Oh my … delicious.
    My car pulls up outside. Christian’s mouth drops open.
    “That’s what you drive?” He’s appalled. Taking my hand, he leads me outside. The valet jumps out and hands me my keys, and Christian coolly palms him some money.
    “Is this roadworthy?” He’s glaring at me now.
    “Yes.”
    “Will it make it to Seattle?”
    “Yes. She will.”
    “Safely?”
    “Yes,” I snap, exasperated. “Okay she’s old. But she’s mine, and she’s roadworthy. My stepdad bought it for me.”
    “Oh, Anastasia, I think we can do better than this.”
    “What do you mean?” Realization dawns. “You are not buying me a car.”
    He glowers at me, his jaw tense.
    “We’ll see,” he says tightly.
    He grimaces as he opens the driver’s door and helps me in. I take my shoes off and roll down the window. He’s gazing at me, his expression unfathomable, eyes dark.
    “Drive safely,” he says quietly.
    “Goodbye, Christian.” My voice is hoarse from unbidden, unshed tears – jeez, I’m not going to cry. I give him a small smile.
    As I drive away, my chest constricts, my tears start to fall, and I choke back a sob. Soon tears are streaming down my face, and I really don’t understand why I’m crying. I was holding my own. He explained everything. He was clear. He wants me, but the truth is I need more. I need him to want me like I want and need him, and deep down I know that’s not possible. I am just overwhelmed.
    I don’t even know how to categorize him. If I do this thing… will he be my boyfriend? Will I be able to introduce him to my friends? Go out to bars, the cinema, bowling even, with him? The truth is I don’t think I will. He won’t let me touch him and he won’t let me sleep with him. I know I’ve not had these things in my past, but I want them in my future. And that’s not the future he envisages.
    What if I do say yes, and in three months’ time he says no, he’s had enough of trying to mold me into something I’m not? How will I feel?