ionaire, billionaire, what-ever-aire, in these clothes. He looks like a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, maybe a badly beha一ved rock star or a catwalk model. I sigh inwardly, wishing I had a tenth of his poise. He’s so calm and controlled. I frown, recalling his outburst about José… Well, he seems to be.
Taylor is hovering in the background.
“Tomorrow then,” he says to Taylor who nods.
“Yes sir. Which car are you taking, sir?”
He looks down at me briefly.
“The R8.”
“Safe trip, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele.” Taylor looks kindly at me, though perhaps there’s a hint of pity hidden in the depths of his eyes.
No doub一t he thinks I’ve succumbed to Mr. Grey’s dubious sexual habits. Not yet, just his exceptional sexual habits, or perhaps sex is like that for everyone. I frown at the
thought. I ha一ve no comparison, and I can’t ask Kate. That’s something I am going to ha一ve to address with Christian. It’s perfectly natural that I should talk to someone – and I can’t talk to him if he is so open one minute and so standoffish the next.
Taylor holds the door open for us and ushers us through. Christian summons the elevator.
“What is it, Anastasia?” he asks. How does he know I’m chewing something over in my mind? He reaches up and pulls my chin.
“Stop biting your lip, or I will fuck you in the elevator, and I don’t care who gets in with us.”
I blush, but there’s a hint of a smile around his lips, finally his mood seems to be shifting.
“Christian, I ha一ve a problem.”
“Oh?” I ha一ve his full attention.
The elevator arrives. We walk in, and Christian presses the button marked G.
“Well,” I flush. How to say this? “I need to talk to Kate. I’ve so many questions about sex, and you’re too involved. If you want me to do all these things, how do I know–?” I pause, struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t ha一ve any terms of reference.”
He rolls his eyes at me.
“Talk to her if you must.” He sounds exasperated. “Make sure she doesn’t mention anything to Elliot.”
I bristle at his insin
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