Fifty Shades of Grey (book 1+ 2)

Chapter 25

"Oh, f**k the paperwork," he growls. He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator.

Before I know it, he's got both of my hands in one of his in a vice-like grip above my head, and he's

pinning me to the wall using his hips. Holy shit. His other hand grabs my ponytail and yanks down,

bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. It's only just not painful. I moan into his mouth, giving his

tongue an opening. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I have never

been kissed like this.

My tongue tentatively strokes his and joins his in a slow erotic dance that's all about touch and

sensation, all bump and grind. He brings his hand up to grasp my chin and holds me in place. I am

helpless, my hands pinned, my face held, and his hips restraining me. . I feel his erection against my

belly. Oh my... He wants me. Christian Grey, Greek god, wants me, and I want him, here... now, in the

elevator.

"You. Are. So. Sweet," he murmurs, each word a staccato.

The elevator stops, the doors open, and he pushes away from me in the blink of an eye, leaving me

hanging. Three men in business suits look at both of us and smirk as they climb on board. My heart

rate is through the roof, I feel like I've run an uphill race. I want to lean over and grasp my knees... but

that's just too obvious.

I glance up at him. He looks so cool and calm, like he's been doing the Seattle Times crossword. How

unfair. Is he totally unaffected by my presenceHe glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and he

gently blows out a deep breath. Oh, he's affected all right

- and my very small inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba. The businessmen exit on the

second floor. We have one more floor to travel.

"You've brushed your teeth," he says, staring at me.

"I used your toothbrush," I breathe.

His lips quirk up in a half smile.

"Oh, Anastasia Steele, what am I going to do with you?"

The doors open at the first floor, and he takes my hand and pulls me out.

"What is it about elevators?" he mutters, more to himself than to me as he strides across the lobby. I

struggle to keep pace with him because my wits have been thoroughly, royally, scattered all over the

floor and walls of elevator three in the Heathman Hotel.

Chapter Six

Christian opens the passenger door to the black Audi SUV, and I clamber in. It's a beast of a car. He

hasn't mentioned the outburst of passion that exploded in the elevator. Should IShould we talk about it

or pretend that it didn't happenIt hardly seems real, my first proper no-holds-barred kiss. As time ticks

on, I assign it mythical, Arthurian legend, Lost City of Atlantis status. It never happened, it never

existed. Perhaps I imagined it all. No.

I touch my lips, swollen from his kiss. It definitely happened. I am a changed woman. I want this man,

desperately, and he wanted me.

I glance at him. Christian is his usual polite, slightly distant self.

How confusing.

He starts the engine and reverses out of his space in the parking lot. He switches on the MP3 player.

The car interior is filled with the sweetest, most magical music of two women singing. Oh wow... all my

senses are in disarray, so this is doubly affecting. It sends delicious shivers up my spine. Christian pulls

out on to SW Park Avenue, and he drives with easy, lazy confidence.

"What are we listening to?"

"It's the Flower Duet by Delibes, from the opera Lakme. Do you like it?"

"Christian, it's wonderful."

"It is, isn't it?" he grins, glancing at me. And for a fleeting moment, he seems his age; young, carefree,

and heart-stoppingly beautiful. Is this the key to himMusicI sit and listen to the angelic voices, teasing

and seducing me. Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

"Can I hear that again?"

"Of course." Christian pushes a button, and the music is caressing me once more. It's a gentle, slow,

sweet, and sure assault on my aural senses.

"You like classical music?" I ask, hoping for a rare insight into his personal preferences.

"My taste is eclectic, Anastasia, everything from Thomas Tallis to the Kings of Leon.

It depends on my mood. You?"

"Me too. Though I don't know who Thomas Tallis is."

He turns and gazes at me briefly before his eyes are back on the road.

"I'll play it for you sometime. He's a sixteenth century British composer. Tudor, church choral music."

Christian grins at me. "Sounds very esoteric, I know, but it's also magical, Anastasia."

He presses a button, and the Kings of Leon start singing. Hmm... this I know. Sex on Fire. How

appropriate. The music is interrupted by the sound of a cell phone ringing over the MP3 speakers.

Christian hits a button on the steering wheel.

"Grey," he snaps. He's so brusque.

"Mr. Grey, it's Welch here. I have the information you require." A rasping, disembodied voice comes

over the speakers.

"Good. Email it to me. Anything to add?"

"No sir."

He presses the button, then the call ceases and the music is back. No goodbye or thanks. I'm so glad

that I never seriously entertained the thought of working for him. I shudder at the very idea. He's just

too controlling and cold with his employees. The music cuts off again for the phone.

"Grey."

"The NDA has been emailed to you, Mr. Grey." A woman's voice.

"Good. That's all, Andrea."

"Good day, sir."

Christian hangs up by pressing a button on the steering wheel. The music is on very briefly when the

phone rings again. Holy hell, is this his life, constant nagging phone calls?

"Grey," he snaps.

"Hi, Christian, d'you get laid?"

"Hello, Elliot - I'm on speaker phone, and I'm not alone in the car," Christian sighs.

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