Fifty Shades Trilogy Bundle: Fifty Shades of Grey; Fifty Shades Darker; Fifty Shades Freed Read online

  “Not now?”

  He gazes at me, eyes wide, then slowly shakes his head.

  Oh my … “Oh, Christian.” I’m overwhelmed by the feelings that swamp me. My lost boy. I launch myself at him and kiss his face, his throat, his chest, his little round scars. He groans, pulls me to him, and kisses me passionately. And very slowly, and tenderly, at his pace, he makes love to me once more.

  “ANA TYSON. PUNCHING ABOVE your weight!” Ethan applauds as I head into the kitchen for breakfast. He’s sitting with Mia and Kate at the breakfast bar while Mrs. Bentley cooks waffles. Christian is nowhere to be seen.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Grey.” Mrs. Bentley smiles. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  “Good morning. Whatever’s going, thank you. Where’s Christian?”

  “Outside.” Kate gestures with her head toward the backyard. I wander over to the window that looks out over the yard and the mountains beyond. It’s a clear, powder-blue summer day, and my beautiful husband is about twenty feet away in deep discussion with some guy.

  “That’s Mr. Bentley he’s talking to,” calls Mia from the breakfast bar. I turn to look at her, distracted by her sulky tone. She looks venomously at Ethan. Oh dear. I wonder once more what’s going on between them. Frowning, I turn my attention back to my husband and Mr. Bentley.

  Mrs. Bentley’s husband is fair-haired, dark eyed, and wiry, dressed in work pants and an Aspen Fire Department T-shirt. Christian is dressed in his black jeans and T-shirt. As the two men amble across the lawn toward the house, lost in their conversation, Christian casually bends to pick up what looks like a bamboo cane that must have been blown over or discarded in the flower bed. Pausing, Christian absentmindedly holds out the cane at arm’s length as if weighing it carefully and swipes it through the air, just once.

  Oh …

  Mr. Bentley appears to see nothing odd in his behavior. They continue their discussion, nearer to the house this time, then pause once more, and Christian repeats the gesture. The tip of the cane hits the ground. Glancing up, Christian sees me standing at the window. Suddenly I feel as if I’m spying on him. He stops. I give him an embarrassed wave, then turn and walk back to the breakfast bar.

  “What were you doing?” asks Kate.

  “Just watching Christian.”

  “You have got it bad.” She snorts.

  “And you don’t, oh soon-to-be sister-in-law?” I reply, grinning and trying to bury the disquieting visual of Christian wielding a cane. I am startled when Kate leaps up and hugs me.

  “Sister!” she exclaims, and it’s hard not to be swept up in her joy.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” Christian wakes me. “We’re about to land. Buckle up.”

  I fumble sleepily for my seat belt, but Christian fastens it for me. He kisses my forehead before settling back into his seat. I lean my head on his shoulder again and close my eyes.

  An impossibly long hike and a picnic lunch on top of a spectacular mountain have exhausted me. The rest of our party is quiet, too—even Mia. She looks despondent, as she has all day. I wonder how her campaign with Ethan is going. I don’t even know where they slept last night. My eyes catch hers, and I give a small are-you-okay smile. She gives me a brief sad smile in return and goes back to her book. I peek up at Christian through my lashes. He’s working on a contract or something, reading it through and annotating the margins. But he seems relaxed. Elliot is snoring softly beside Kate.

  I have yet to corner Elliot and quiz him about Gia, but it’s been impossible to pry him away from Kate. Christian isn’t interested enough to ask, which is irritating, but I haven’t pressed him. We’ve been enjoying ourselves too much. Elliot rests his hand possessively on Kate’s knee. She looks radiant, and to think that only yesterday afternoon she was so unsure of him. What did Christian call him? Lelliot. Perhaps that’s a family nickname? It was sweet, better than manwhore. Abruptly, Elliot opens his eyes and gazes straight at me. I blush, caught staring.

  He grins. “I sure love your blush, Ana,” he teases, stretching. Kate gives me her self-satisfied, cat-ate-the-canary smile.

  First Officer Beighley announces our approach to Sea-Tac, and Christian clasps my hand.

  “How was your weekend, Mrs. Grey?” Christian asks once we’re in the Audi heading back to Escala. Taylor and Ryan are up front.

  “Good, thank you.” I smile, feeling shy all of a sudden.

  “We can go anytime. Take anyone you wish to take.”

  “We should take Ray. He’d like the fishing.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “How was it for you?” I ask.

  “Good,” he says after a moment, surprised by my question, I think. “Real good.”

  “You seemed to relax.”

  He shrugs. “I knew you were safe.”

  I frown. “Christian, I’m safe most of the time. I’ve told you before, you’ll keel over at forty if you keep up this level of anxiety. And I want to grow old and gray with you.” I grasp his hand. He looks at me as if he can’t comprehend what I’m saying. He gently kisses my knuckles and changes the subject.

  “How’s your hand?”

  “It’s better, thank you.”

  He smiles. “Very good, Mrs. Grey. You ready to face Gia again?”

  Oh crap. I’d forgotten we were seeing her this evening to go over the final plans. I roll my eyes. “I might want to keep you out of the way, keep you safe.” I smirk.

  “Protecting me?” Christian is laughing at me.

  “As ever, Mr. Grey. From all sexual predators,” I whisper.

  Christian is brushing his teeth when I crawl into bed. Tomorrow we go back to reality—back to work, the paparazzi, and to Jack in custody but with the possibility that he has an accomplice. Hmm … Christian was vague about that. Does he know? And if he did know, would he tell me? I sigh. Getting information out of Christian is like pulling teeth, and we’ve had such a lovely weekend. Do I want to ruin the feel-good moment by trying to drag the information out of him?

  It’s been a revelation to see him out of his normal environment, outside this apartment, relaxed and happy with his family. I wonder vaguely if it’s because we’re here in this apartment with all its memories and associations that he gets wound up. Maybe we should move.

  I snort. We are moving—we’re having a huge house refurbished on the coast. Gia’s plans are complete and approved, and Elliot’s team starts building next week. I chuckle as I recall Gia’s shocked expression when I told her that I’d seen her in Aspen. Turns out it was nothing but coincidence. She’d camped out at her holiday place to work solely on our plans. For one awful moment I’d thought she’d had a hand in choosing the ring, but apparently not. But I still don’t trust Gia. I want to hear the same story from Elliot. At least she kept her distance from Christian this time.

  I look out at the night sky. I will miss this view. This panoramic vista … Seattle at our feet, so full of possibilities, yet so far removed. Maybe that’s Christian’s problem—he’s been too isolated from real life for too long, thanks to his self-imposed exile. Yet with his family around him, he is less controlling, less anxious—freer, happier. I wonder what Flynn would make of all that. Holy crap! Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe he needs his own family. I shake my head in denial—we’re too young, too new to all this. Christian strides into the room, looking his usual gorgeous but pensive self.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  He nods distractedly as he climbs into bed.

  “I’m not looking forward to going back to reality,” I murmur.

  “No?”

  I shake my head and caress his lovely face. “I had a wonderful weekend. Thank you.”

  He smiles softly. “You’re my reality, Ana,” he murmurs and kisses me.

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Miss what?” he asks, perplexed.

  “You know. The caning … and stuff,” I whisper, embarrassed.

  He stares at me, his gaze impassive. Then doubt crosses hi
s face, his where-is-she-going-with-this look.

  “No Anastasia, I don’t.” His voice is steady and quiet. He caresses my cheek. “Dr. Flynn said something to me when you left, something that’s stayed with me. He said I couldn’t be that way if you weren’t so inclined. It was a revelation.” He stops and frowns. “I didn’t know any other way, Ana. Now I do. It’s been educational.”

  “Me, educate you?” I scoff.

  His eyes soften. “Do you miss it?” he asks.

  Oh! “I don’t want you to hurt me, but I like to play, Christian. You know that. If you wanted to do something …” I shrug, gazing at him.

  “Something?”

  “You know, with a flogger or your crop—” I stop, blushing.

  He raises his brow, surprised. “Well … we’ll see. Right now, I’d like some good old-fashioned vanilla.” His thumb skirts my bottom lip, and he kisses me once more.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: Good Morning

  Date: August 29 2011 09:14

  To: Christian Grey

  Mr. Grey

  I just wanted to tell you that I love you.

  That is all. Yours Always

  A x

  Anastasia Grey

  Editor, SIP

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Banishing Monday Blues

  Date: August 29 2011 09:18

  To: Anastasia Grey

  Mrs. Grey

  What gratifying words to hear from one’s wife (errant or not) on a Monday morning.

  Let me assure you that I feel exactly the same way.

  Sorry about the dinner this evening. I hope it won’t be too tedious for you.

  x

  Christian Grey,

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  Oh yes. The American Shipbuilding Association dinner. I roll my eyes … More stuffed shirts. Christian really does take me to the most fascinating functions.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: Ships That Pass in the Night

  Date: August 29 2011 09:26

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Mr. Grey

  I am sure you can think of a way to spice up the dinner …

  Yours in anticipation

  Mrs. G. x

  Anastasia (nonerrant) Grey

  Editor, SIP

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Variety Is the Spice of Life

  Date: August 29 2011 09:35

  To: Anastasia Grey

  Mrs. Grey

  I have a few ideas …

  x

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc. Now Impatient for the ASA Dinner, Inc.

  All the muscles in my belly clench. Hmm … I wonder what he’ll dream up. Hannah knocks on the door, interrupting my reverie.

  “Ready to go through your schedule for this week, Ana?”

  “Sure. Sit.” I smile, recovering my equilibrium, and minimize my e-mail program. “I’ve had to move a couple of appointments. Mr. Fox next week and Dr.—”

  My phone rings, interrupting her. It’s Roach. He asks me up to his office.

  “Can we pick this up in twenty minutes?”

  “Of course.”

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Last Night

  Date: August 30 2011 09:24

  To: Anastasia Grey

  Was … fun.

  Who would have thought the ASA annual dinner could be so stimulating?

  As ever, you never disappoint, Mrs. Grey.

  I love you.

  x

  Christian Grey

  In awe, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: I Love a Good Ball Game …

  Date: August 30 2011 09:33

  To: Christian Grey

  Dear Mr. Grey

  I have missed the silver balls.

  You never disappoint.

  That is all.

  Mrs. G. x

  Anastasia Grey

  Editor, SIP

  Hannah taps on my door, interrupting my erotic thoughts of the previous evening. Christian’s hands … his mouth.

  “Come in.”

  “Ana, Mr. Roach’s PA just called. He’d like you to attend a meeting this morning. It means I have to move some of your appointments again. Is that okay?”

  His tongue.

  “Sure. Yes,” I mutter, trying to halt my wayward thoughts. She grins and ducks out of my office … leaving me with my delicious memory of last night.

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Hyde

  Date: September 1 2011 15:24

  To: Anastasia Grey

  Anastasia

  For your information, Hyde has been refused bail and remanded in custody. He’s charged with attempted kidnapping and arson. As yet no date has been set for the trial.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: Hyde

  Date: September 1 2011 15:53

  To: Christian Grey

  That’s good news.

  Does this mean you’ll lighten up on security?

  I really don’t see eye to eye with Prescott.

  Ana x

  Anastasia Grey

  Editor, SIP

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Hyde

  Date: September 1 2011 15:59

  To: Anastasia Grey

  No. Security will remain in place. No arguments.

  What’s wrong with Prescott? If you don’t like her, we’ll replace her.

  Christian Grey

  CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  I scowl at his high-handed e-mail. Prescott isn’t that bad.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: Keep Your Hair On!

  Date: September 1 2011 16:03

  To: Christian Grey

  I was just asking (rolls eyes). And I’ll think about Prescott.

  Stow that twitchy palm!

  Ana x

  Anastasia Grey

  Editor, SIP

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: Don’t Tempt Me

  Date: September 1 2011 16:11

  To: Anastasia Grey

  I can assure you, Mrs. Grey, that my hair is very firmly attached—has this not been demonstrated often enough by your good self?

  My palm, however, is twitching.

  I might do something about that tonight.

  x

  Christian Grey

  Not bald yet CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: Squirm

  Date: September 1 2011 16:20

  To: Christian Grey

  Promises, promises …

  Now stop pestering me. I am trying to work; I have an impromptu meeting with an author. Will try not to be distracted by thoughts of you during the meeting.

  A x

  Anastasia Grey

  Editor, SIP

  * * *

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: Sailing & Soaring & Spanking

  Date: September 5 2011 09:18

  To: Christian Grey

  Husband

  You sure know how to show a girl a good time.

  I shall of course be expecting this kind of treatment every weekend.

  You are spoiling me. I love it.

  Your wife

  xox

  Anastasia Grey

  Editor, SIP

  * * *

  From: Christian Grey

  Subject: My Life’s Mission …

  Date: September 5 2011 09:25

  To: Anastasia Grey

  Is to spoil you, Mrs. Grey.
/>