op my hair into a
suit you,” I mutter distractedly as I scoop my hair into a
ponytail and pull on my black high-heeled shoes. There,
that will do.
When I bend to kiss him good-bye, he grabs me and
pulls me down onto the bed, leaning over me and smiling
from ear to ear. Oh my. He’s so beautiful—eyes bright
with mischief, floppy just-fucked-again hair, that dazzling
smile. Now he’s playful.
I’m tired, still reeling from all the disclosures of
yesterday, while he’s bright as a button and sexy as fuck.
Oh, exasperating Fifty.
“What can I do to tempt you to stay?” he says softly,
and my heart skips a beat and begins to pound. He is
temptation personified.
“You can’t,” I grumble, struggling to sit back up. “Let
me go.”
He pouts and I give up. Grinning, I trace my fingers
over his sculptured lips—my Fifty Shades. I love him so in
all his monumental fuckedupness. I ha一ven’t even begun to
process yesterday’s events and how I feel about them.
I lean up to kiss him, thankful that I ha一ve brushed my
teeth. He kisses me long and hard and then swiftly sets me
on my feet, lea一ving me dazed, breathless, and slightly
wobbly.
“Taylor will take you. Quicker than finding somewhere
to park. He’s waiting outside the building,” Christian says
kindly, and he seems relieved. Is he worried about my
reaction this morning? Surely last night—er, this morning—
proved that I am not going to run.
“Okay. Thank you,” I mutter, disappointed that I am
“Okay. Thank you,” I mutter, disappointed that I am
upright on my feet, confused by his hesitancy, and vaguely
irritated that once again I won’t be driving my Saab. But
he’s right, of course—it will be quicker with Taylor.
“Enjoy your lazy morning, Mr. Grey. I wish I could
stay, but the man who owns the company I work for
would not approve of his staff ditching just for hot sex.” I
grab my purse.
“Personally, Miss Steele, I ha一ve no doub一t that he
would approve. In fact he might insist on it.”
“Why are you staying in bed? It’s not like you.”
He folds his
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