Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

always honest with you, Ana. I don’t want to play games. Well, not those sorts of games,” he qualifies, as his eyes heat.
    “What sort of games do you want to play?”
    He inclines his head to one side and smirks at me. “Miss Steele, you are so easily distracted.”
    I giggle. He’s right. “Mr. Grey, you are distracting on so many levels.” I gaze at his dancing gray eyes alight with humor.
    “My favorite sound in the whole world is your giggle, Anastasia. Now—what was your original question?” he asks smoothly, and I think he’s laughing at me. I try to twist my mouth to show my displeasure, but I like playful Fifty—he’s fun. I love some early morning banter. I frown, trying to recall my question.
    “Oh yes. You only saw your subs on the weekends?”
    “Yes, that’s correct,” he says regarding me nervously.
    I grin at him. “So, no sex during the week.”
    He laughs. “Oh, that’s where we’re going with this.” He looks vaguely relieved. “Why do you think I work out every weekday?” Now he really is laughing at me, but I don’t care. I want to hug myself with glee. Another first—well, several firsts.
    “You look very pleased with yourself, Miss Steele.”
    “I am, Mr. Grey.”
    “You should be.” He grins. “Now eat your breakfast.”
    Oh, bossy Fifty . . . he’s never far away.

    We are in the back of the Audi. Taylor is driving with the intention of dropping me off at work, then Christian. Sawyer is riding shotgun.
    “Didn’t you say your roommate’s brother was arriving today?” Christian asks, almost casually, his voice and expression giving nothing away.
    “Oh, Ethan,” I gasp. “I forgot. Oh Christian, thank you for reminding me. I’ll have to go back to the apartment.”
    His face falls. “What time?”
    “I’m not sure what time he’s arriving.”
    “I don’t want you going anywhere on your own,” he says sharply.
    “I know,” I mutter and resist rolling my eyes at Mr. Over-Reaction. “Will Sawyer be spying—um . . . patrolling today?” I glance slyly in Sawyer’s direction to see the backs of his ears turn red.
    “Yes,” Christian snaps, his eyes glacial.
    “If I was driving the Saab it would be easier,” I mutter petulantly.
    “Sawyer will have a car, and he can drive you to your apartment, depending on what time.”
    “Okay. I think Ethan will probably contact me during the day. I’ll let you know what the plans are then.”
    He gazes at me, saying nothing. Oh, what is he thinking?
    “Okay,” he acquiesces. “Nowhere on your own. Do you understand?” He waves a long finger at me.
    “Yes, dear,” I mutter.
    There’s a trace of a smile on his face. “And maybe you should just use your Blackberry—I’ll e-mail you on it. That should prevent my IT guy having a thoroughly interesting morning, okay?” His voice is sardonic.
    “Yes, Christian.” I can’t resist. I roll my eyes at him, and he smirks at me.
    “Why Miss Steele, I do believe you’re making my palm twitch.”
    “Ah, Mr. Grey, your perpetually twitching palm. What are we going to do with that?”
    He laughs and then is distracted by his Blackberry, which must be on vibrate because it doesn’t ring. He frowns when he sees the caller ID.
    “What is it?” he snaps into the phone, then listens intently. I use the opportunity to study his lovely features—his straight nose, his hair hanging scruffily over his forehead. I am distracted from my surreptitious ogling by his expression, which turns from incredulity to amusement. I pay attention.
    “You’re kidding . . . For a scene . . . When did he tell you this?” Christian chuckles, almost reluctantly. “No, don’t worry. You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad there’s a logical explanation. It did seem a ridiculously low amount of money . . . I have no doubt you’ve something evil and creative planned for your revenge. Poor Isaac.” He smiles. “Good . . . Good-bye.” He snaps the phone shut and glances at me. His eyes are suddenly wary, but oddly, he looks relieved, too.
    “Who was that?” I ask.
    “You really want to know?” he asks quietly.
    And, I know. I shake my head and stare out my window at the gray Seattle day, feeling forlorn. Why can’t she leave him alone?
    “Hey.” He reaches for my hand and kisses each of my knuckles in turn, and suddenly he’s sucking my little finger, hard. Then biting it softly.
    Whoa ! He has a hotline to my groin, I gasp and glance nervously