This is what I can’t reconcile: Leila was happy, mischievous, and bright when I knew her. She was an excellent submissive; I thought she’d settled down and was happily married. Her e-mails never indicated that anything was awry. What went wrong?
I start to play…and my troubled thoughts recede until it’s just the music and me.
Leila is servicing my cock with her mouth.
Her skilled mouth.
Her hands are tied behind her back.
Her hair braided.
She’s on her knees.
Eyes cast down. Modest. Alluring.
Not seeing me.
And suddenly she’s Ana.
Ana on her knees before me. Naked. Beautiful.
My cock in her mouth.
But Ana’s eyes are on mine.
Her blazing blue eyes see everything.
See me. My soul.
She sees the darkness and the monster beneath.
Her eyes widen in horror and suddenly she disappears.
Shit! I wake with a start, and a painful erection that wanes as soon as I recall Ana’s wounded look in my dream.
What the hell?
I rarely have erotic dreams. Why now? I check my alarm; I’ve beaten it by a few minutes. The morning sunlight is creeping between the buildings as I rise. Already I’m restless, no doubt as a result of my disturbing dream, so I decide to go for a run to burn off some energy. There are no new e-mails, no messages, no updates on Leila. The apartment is quiet as I leave. There’s no sign of Gail yet. I hope she’s recovered from yesterday’s ordeal.
I open the glass doors in the lobby, step outside into a balmy, sunny morning, and carefully scan the street. As I start my run I check down the alleys and in the doorways I pass, and behind the parked cars, to see if Leila is there.
Where are you, Leila Williams?
I turn the volume up on the Foo Fighters and my feet pound the sidewalk.
OLIVIA IS EXCEPTIONALLY IRRITATING today. She’s spilled my coffee, dropped an important call, and keeps mooning at me with her big brown eyes.
“Get Ros back on the line,” I bark at her. “Better still, get her up here.” I shut my office door and go back to my desk; I must try not to take my temper out on my staff.
Welch has no news, except that Leila’s parents think their daughter is still in Portland with her husband. There’s a knock on my door.
“Come in.” I hope to God it’s not Olivia. Ros pokes her head around.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Sure. Come in. Where are we with Woods?”
ROS EXITS JUST BEFORE ten. All is on track: Woods has decided to accept the deal, and the aid for Darfur will soon be on the road to Munich in preparation for the airlift. There’s no news yet from Savannah about their offer.
I check my inbox and find a welcome e-mail from Ana.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Homeward Bound
Date: June 3 2011 12:53 EST
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey,
I am once again ensconced in first class, for which I thank you. I am counting the minutes until I see you this evening and perhaps torturing the truth out of you about my nocturnal admissions.
Your Ana x
Torturing me? Oh, Miss Steele, I think it will be the other way around. As I have a great deal to do, I keep my reply short.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Homeward Bound
Date: June 3 2011 09:58
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia, I look forward to seeing you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
But Ana is not satisfied.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Homeward Bound
Date: June 3 2011 13:01 EST
To: Christian Grey
Dearest Mr. Grey,
I hope everything is okay re “the situation.” The tone of your e-mail is worrying.
Ana x
At least I still earned a kiss. Surely she should be airborne by now?
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Homeward Bound
Date: June 3 2011 10:04
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia,
The situation could be better. Have you taken off yet? If so, you should not be e-mailing. You are putting yourself at risk, in direct contravention of the rule regarding your personal safety. I meant what I said about punishments.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I’m about to call Welch for an update, but there’s a ping—Ana again.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Overreaction
Date: June 3 2011 13:06 EST
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grumpy,
The aircraft doors are still open. We are delayed but only by ten minutes. My welfare and that of the passengers around me is vouchsafed. You may stow your twitchy palm for now.
Miss Steele
A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. Mr. Grumpy, eh? And no kiss. Oh dear.
* * *
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Apologies—Twitchy Palm Stowed
Date: June 3 2011 10:08
To: Anastasia Steele
I miss you and your smart mouth, Miss Steele.
I want you safely home.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
* * *
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Apology Accepted
Date: June 3 2011 13:10 EST
To: Christian Grey
They are shutting the doors. You won’t hear another peep from me, especially given your deafness.
Laters.
Ana x
My kiss is back. Well, that’s a relief. Grudgingly, I drag myself away from the computer screen and pick up my phone to call Welch.
AT ONE O’CLOCK I decline Andrea’s offer of lunch at my desk. I need to get out. The walls of my office are closing in on me, and I think it’s because there’s been no news about Leila.
I’m worried about her. Hell, she came to see me. She decided to use my home as her stage. How could I not take this personally? Why didn’t she e-mail me or phone? If she was in trouble, I could have helped. I would have helped—I’ve done it before.