Fifty Shades of Grey (book 1+ 2)

Chapter 68

"I know." Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

He leans down to kiss me, but pauses before his lips touch mine, his eyes searching mine, wanting,

asking permission. I raise my lips to his, and he kisses me and because I don't know if I'll ever kiss him

again, I let go - my hands moving of their own accord and twisting into his hair, pulling him to me, my

mouth opening, my tongue stroking his. His hand grasps the nape of my neck as he deepens the kiss,

responding to my ardor. His other hand slides down my back and flattens at the base of my spine as he

pushes me against his body."I can't persuade you to stay?" he breathes between kisses.

"No."

"Spend the night with me."

"And not touch youNo."

He groans.

"You impossible girl." He pulls back, gazing down at me. "Why do I think you're telling me goodbye?"

"Because I'm leaving now."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"Christian, I have to think about this. I don't know if I can have the kind of relationship you want."

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine, giving us both the opportunity to slow our

breathing. After a moment, he kisses my forehead, inhales deeply, his nose in my hair, and then he

releases me, stepping back.

"As you wish, Miss Steele," he says, his face impassive. "I'll escort you to the lobby."

He holds out his hand. Leaning down, I grab my purse and place my hand in his. Holy crap, this could

be it. I follow him meekly down the grand stairs and into the lobby, my scalp prickling, my blood

pumping. This could be the last goodbye if I decide to say no.

My heart contracts painfully in my chest. What a turnaround. What a difference a moment of clarity can

make to a girl.

"Do you have your valet ticket?"

I fish into my clutch purse and hand him the ticket, which he gives to the doorman. I peek up at him as

we stand waiting.

"Thank you for dinner," I murmur.

"It's a pleasure as always, Miss Steele," he says politely, though he looks deep in thought, completely

distracted.

As I peer up at him, I commit his beautiful profile to memory. The idea that I might not see him again

haunts me, unwelcome and too painful to contemplate. He turns suddenly, staring down at me, his

expression intense.

"You're moving this weekend to Seattle. If you make the right decision, can I see you on Sunday?" He

sounds hesitant.

"We'll see. Maybe," I breathe. Momentarily, he looks relieved, and then he frowns.

"It's cooler now, don't you have a jacket?"

"No."

He shakes his head in irritation and takes off his jacket.

"Here. I don't want you catching cold."

I blink up at him as he holds it open, and as I hold my arms out behind me, I'm reminded of the time in

his office when he slipped my coat onto my shoulders - the first time I met him - and the effect he had

on me then. Nothing's changed, in fact, it's more intense.

His jacket is warm, far too big, and it smells of him. Oh my... delicious.

My car pulls up outside. Christian's mouth drops open.

"That's what you drive?" He's appalled. Taking my hand, he leads me outside. The valet jumps out and

hands me my keys, and Christian coolly palms him some money.

"Is this roadworthy?" He's glaring at me now.

"Yes."

"Will it make it to Seattle?"

"Yes. She will."

"Safely?"

"Yes," I snap, exasperated. "Okay she's old. But she's mine, and she's roadworthy.

My stepdad bought it for me."

"Oh, Anastasia, I think we can do better than this."

"What do you mean?" Realization dawns. "You are not buying me a car."

He glowers at me, his jaw tense.

"We'll see," he says tightly.

He grimaces as he opens the driver's door and helps me in. I take my shoes off and roll down the

window. He's gazing at me, his expression unfathomable, eyes dark.

"Drive safely," he says quietly.

"Goodbye, Christian." My voice is hoarse from unbidden, unshed tears - jeez I'm not going to cry. I give

him a small smile.

As I drive away, my chest constricts, my tears start to fall, and I choke back a sob.

Soon tears are streaming down my face, and I really don't understand why I'm crying. I was holding my

own. He explained everything. He was clear. He wants me, but the truth is, I need more. I need him to

want me like I want and need him, and deep down I know that's not possible. I am just overwhelmed.

I don't even know how to categorize him. If I do this thing... will he be my boyfriend?

Will I be able to introduce him to my friendsGo out to bars, the cinema, bowling even, with himThe truth

is, I don't think I will. He won't let me touch him and he won't let me sleep with him. I know I've not had

these things in my past, but I want them in my future.

And that's not the future he envisages.

What if I do say yes, and in three months' time he says no, he's had enough of trying to mold me into

something I'm not. How will I feelI'll have emotionally invested three months, doing things that I'm not

sure I want to do. And if he then says no, agreement over, how could I cope with that level of

rejectionPerhaps it's best to back away now with what self-esteem I have reasonably intact.

But the thought of not seeing him again is agonizing. How has he gotten under my skin so quicklyIt

can't just be the sex... can itI dash the tears from my eyes. I don't want to examine my feelings for him.

I'm frightened what I'll uncover if I do. What am I going to do?

I park up outside our duplex. No lights on. Kate must be out. I'm relieved. I don't want her to catch me

crying again. As I undress, I wake up the mean machine and sitting in my inbox is a message from

Christian.

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