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“No, you hang up.” “I don’t want to.” “Neither do I.” “Were you very angry with me?” she asks. “Yes.” “Are you still?” “No.” Now I know you’re safe. “So you’re not going to punish me?” “No. I’m an in-the-moment kind of guy.” “I’ve noticed,” she teases, and that makes me smile. “You can hang up now, Miss Steele.” “Do you really want me to, Sir?” “Go to bed, Anastasia.” “Yes, Sir.” She doesn’t hang up, and I know she’s grinning. It lifts my spirits higher. “Do you ever think you’ll be able to do what you’re told?” I ask. “Maybe. We’ll see after Sunday,” she says, temptress that she is, and the line goes dead. Anastasia Steele, what am I going to do with you? Actually, I have a good idea, provided that riding crop turns up in time. And with that enticing thought I toss down the rest of the Armagnac and go to bed.

E l james grey  

Fifty Shades of Grey