his lips
touch mine, silently asking if it’s allowed. I raise my face to his, and he kisses
me tenderly.
“Your lips are always so soft when you’ve been crying,” he murmurs.
“I never promised to obey you, Christian,” I whisper.
“I know.”
“Deal with it, please. For both our sakes. And I will try and be more
considerate of your . . . controlling tendencies.”
He blinks, looking lost and vulnerable, completely at sea.
“I’ll try,” he murmurs, his voice burning with sincerity. I sigh, a long shuddering
sigh. “Please do. Besides, if I had been here . . .”
“I know,” he says and blanches. Lying back, he puts his free arm over his
face. I curl around him and lay my head on his chest. We both lie silent for a
few moments. His hand moves to the end of my braid. He pulls the tie from it,
freeing my hair, and gently, rhythmically, combs his fingers through it. This is
what this is really about—his fear . . . his irrational fear for my safety. An
image of Jack Smith 233 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
slumped on the floor in my apartment with a Glock comes to mind . . . well,
maybe not so irrational, which reminds me . . .
“What did you mean earlier, when you said or?” I ask.
“Or?”
“Something about Jack.”
He peers down at me. “You don’t give up, do you?”
I rest my chin on his sternum, enjoying the soothing caress of his fingers in
my hair.
“Give up? Never. Tell me. I don’t like being kept in the dark. You seem to
ha一ve some overblown idea that I need protecting. You don’t even know how
to shoot—I do. Do you think I can’t handle whatever it is you won’t tell me,
Christian? I’ve had your stalker ex-sub pull a gun on me, your pedophile exlover
harass me—and don’t look at me like that,” I snap when he scowls at
me. “Your mother feels the same way about her.”
“You talked to my mother about Elena?” Christian’s voice rises a few
octa一ves.
“Yes, Grace and I talked about her.”
He gapes at me.
“She’s very upset about it. Blames herself.”
“I can’t believe you spoke to my mother. Shit!” He lies
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