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“I have something else to tell you,” she says, her shoulders tensing. “Oh yes?” I keep my voice mild. Why is she tense? My hands glide over her chest to her beautiful breasts. “My friend José’s photography show is opening Thursday in Portland.” “Yes, what about it?” The photographer again? “I said I would go. Do you want to come with me?” The words come in a rush, as if she’s anxious to get them out. An invitation? I’m stunned. I only get invitations from my family, from work, and from Elena. “What time?” “The opening is at seven thirty.” This will count as more, surely. I kiss her ear and whisper, “Okay.” Her shoulders soften as she leans back against me. She seems relieved and I’m not sure whether to be amused or annoyed. Am I really that unapproachable? “Were you nervous about asking me?” “Yes. How can you tell?” “Anastasia, your whole body’s just relaxed.” I mask my irritation. “Well, you just seem to be, um…on the jealous side.” Yes. I’m jealous. The thought of Ana with anyone else is…unsettling. Very unsettling. “Yes, I am. And you’d do well to remember that. But thank you for asking. We’ll take Charlie Tango.” She flashes me a quick grin as my hands slide down her body, the body she’s given to me and no one else. “Can I wash you?” she asks, diverting me. “I don’t think so.” I kiss her neck as I rinse her back. “Will you ever let me touch you?” Her voice is a gentle entreaty, but it doesn’t stop the darkness that’s swirling suddenly from nowhere and tightening around my throat. No. I will it away, cupping and concentrating on Ana’s ass, her fucking glorious behind. My body responds on a primal level—at war with the darkness. I need her. I need her to chase my fear away. “Put your hands on the wall, Anastasia. I’m going to take you again,” I whisper, and with a startled glance at me, she splays her hands on the tiles. I grab her hips, pulling her back from the wall. “Hold fast, Anastasia,” I warn, as the water streams over her back. She bends her head and braces herself as my hands sweep through her pubic hair. She squirms, her behind brushing my arousal. Fuck! And like that, my residual fear melts away. “Do you want this?” I ask as my fingers tease her. In answer she wiggles her butt against my erection, making me smile. “Tell me,” I demand, my voice strained. “Yes.” Her agreement slices through the pouring water, keeping the darkness at bay. Oh, baby. She’s still wet from earlier—from me, from her—I don’t know. In the moment I give a silent word

E l james grey  

Fifty Shades of Grey

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