Freed Page 15

Stop overthinking this, Grey.

  But as we walk through the house I find myself putting as much distance as I can between her and me.

  “A glass wall would be amazing at this end of the room,” Gia says. “It will really open out this whole space.”

  Ana smiles, but keeps her counsel and takes my hand.

  Taylor weaves through the evening traffic back to Escala.

  “What did you think?” I ask Ana.

  “Of Gia?”

  I nod.

  “The Gia show,” she says.

  “Yeah. She has a lot of personality. But she had some great ideas, and we’ve seen her portfolio. It’s impressive.”

  Ana bursts out laughing. “Yes. Her impressive portfolio was on full display.”

  I laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Ana arches a brow. And I laugh again and take her hand. “Thank you for being funny,” I whisper, and kiss her knuckles. “What do think? Should we find someone else?”

  “She did have some good ideas.” Ana sounds almost begrudging, but she smiles. “Let’s see what she comes back with.”

  “Agreed. Shall we go out to eat? We’ve been cooped up enough at Escala.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “I think so.” I turn and catch Taylor’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Columbia Tower, please, Taylor.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mile High Club?” I suggest to Ana.

  “Suits me.”

  I clasp her hand.

  “I did like her idea for opening up the view from the back of the house,” Ana says.

  “Yes. Me, too, but we’re in no rush.”

  She smiles once more. “I love your ivory tower.”

  “I love having you there.”

  Her eyes meet mine and her expression is suddenly serious. “I’m glad, because you’re about to commit to having me there for a lifetime.”

  Whoa. I swallow.

  This is huge.

  A whole lifetime with Anastasia…will it be enough?

  “Good point, well made, Miss Steele.”

  And from nowhere I’m overwhelmed with a depth of feeling that has become all too familiar, but it’s still new and shiny and terrifying. I’m happier than I’ve ever been before—but I’m afraid, too.

  It could all end.

  Everything could come crashing down.

  Life is ephemeral.

  I know this. I’ve lived it.

  From nowhere the image of a pale, still, young woman comes to mind. She’s lying on a grubby rug in a grubbier room as a small child tries in vain to shake her awake.

  Shit.

  The crack whore.

  No. Don’t think about her!

  Reaching over, I take Ana’s face between my hands, memorizing every detail: the shape of her nose, her full lower lip, her stunning eyes. I want her with me for a lifetime. I close my eyes and kiss her, pouring all my fear into her.

  Don’t ever leave me.

  Don’t die.

  Saturday, July 23, 2011

  What do you think Elliot has planned?” Ana is sprawled over me, her index finger making small circles through my chest hair. It’s a weird sensation, one that I’m not entirely comfortable with.

  Enough.

  I grab her hand, threading my fingers through hers, and plant a kiss on the tip of the offending digit.

  “Too much?” she whispers.

  I slide her finger into my mouth, clamping my teeth gently around her knuckle and teasing the tip with my tongue.

  “Ah!” she coos, as a sensuous spark ignites in her eyes, and she tips her pelvis against my thigh.

  Baby.

  She tugs her hand and I relax my jaw but close my lips as she eases her finger out of my mouth.

  She tastes mighty fine.

  Tenderly she kisses the spot on my chest that her finger traced, while I stroke her hair and revel in this quiet moment. It’s early, and the only items on today’s agenda are my “bachelor party,” Ana’s bachelorette party, and a shopping excursion with Caroline Acton.

  Ana raises her head. “Do you think he’ll take you to a…a…strip joint?”

  A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Strip joint?”

  Ana giggles. “I don’t know what they’re called.”

  I sigh and close my eyes, envisioning the hell that Elliot probably has planned. “Knowing Elliot, it’s a distinct possibility.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Ana replies, tartly.

  I grin and, rolling over, press her into the mattress. “Why, Miss Steele, do you disapprove?” I run my nose down hers and she squirms beneath me.

  “Deeply.”

  “Jealous?”

  She makes a face.

  “I’d rather be here with you,” I reassure her.

  “You’re not really a party animal, are you?” she says.

  “No. More the loner.”

  “I’ve figured this out.” Her teeth graze my chin.

  “Could say the same about you,” I murmur.

  “I’m the wallflower, nose-in-a-book type.”

  I skim my lips from her ear to her throat. “You’re too beautiful to be a wallflower.”

  She groans and runs her fingernails over my shoulder blades as her body rises to welcome mine. She’s still slick and wet from earlier, and I ease into her and we move together, slower and sweeter this time. Her nails dig into my back as she wraps her legs around mine and she raises her hips to meet me. Over and over. Slow and sweet. She’s building.

  I stop.

  “Christian, don’t stop. Please,” she begs.

  I love it when you beg, baby.

  I move slowly and grip her hair at her nape with both hands, so she cannot turn her head. I gaze down at her, marveling at the intricate color of her irises. I move again. Slowly. In. Out. And then stop once more.

  “Christian, please,” she breathes.

  “It will only ever be you, Ana. Always.”

  Don’t be jealous.

  “I love you.” I start once more. She closes her eyes and tips her head back and comes around me, triggering my own orgasm. With a cry, I fall to her side to catch my breath. When I resurface, I turn over and pull her to me, kissing her hair.

  I love waking up to Ana.

  Closing my eyes, I imagine every Saturday could be like this. Anastasia Steele has given me a meaningful future, something I’ve not considered with any seriousness before. And next Saturday, I get the piece of paper that proves it.

  She’ll be mine.

  Until death do us part.

  Ana lying on the cold, hard floor flashes before my eyes.

  No!

  I rub my face.

  Stop. Grey. Stop.

  I kiss her hair, breathing in her life-affirming fragrance, and I’m calmer.

  It must be about 9 a.m. I grab my phone from my nightstand to check the time. There’s a text from Elliot.

  ELLIOT

  Good morning, Asshole.

  I’m sitting in your vast living room

  waiting for you to get your lazy ass

  out here. Stop what you’re doing. Now.

  You dirty dog.

  What the hell?

  “What is it?” Ana asks, looking tousled and fuckable.

  “Elliot’s here.”

  “Outside?” Ana sounds bemused.

  I ease her out of my embrace. “No. He’s here.”

  She frowns.

  “Yeah, I don’t understand it, either.” I get up, stalk into my closet, and drag on a pair of jeans.

  Elliot is sprawled on my couch, staring at his phone. “Good morning, hotshot, about time!” he hollers. “Glad you dressed for the occasion.” He eyes my naked chest and feet with am
used disdain.

  “What in God’s name are you doing here, dude? It’s nine a.m.”

  “Yep. Surprise! Get your ass in gear. I got the day planned.”

  What? “I’m supposed to take Ana shopping.”

  He scoffs, disgusted. “She’s a grown woman. She can do her own damn shopping.”

  “But—”

  “Dude. I’m saving you. Shopping with women is hell. Go. Put some clothes on, you pervert. And for fuck’s sake have a shower. I can smell the sex from here.”

  “Fuck off,” I reply without heat.

  He really is a douche sometimes.

  “You’ll need hiking boots and sneakers,” he calls after me.

  Both?

  “How did you get in?” I ask as we head down to the garage in the elevator.

  “Taylor.”

  “Ah. That’s why we have no security following us.”

  “Yep. I figured you were leaving with me, so you’d be fine. Your man Taylor was reluctant, but I persuaded him.”

  I nod, pleased. Being continually dogged by our close protection team has been wearing. Ana and I have been holed up at Escala for what feels like forever. Sawyer and Reynolds will keep an eye on her today, though. That’s non-negotiable.

  “He’s been very helpful,” Elliot says.

  “Who?”

  “Taylor.” And with that he hides his sly smile and stops talking.

  What does he have planned?

  Elliot is in an ebullient mood. It’s catching. We’re cruising in his pickup north along I-5. “Where exactly are we going?” I ask, over the godawful yacht-rock blasting through the cab.

  “Surprise,” he shouts. “Relax. It’s going to be fine.”

  It’s too late to tell him I’m not a fan of surprises, so I sit back and enjoy the cityscape as we head out of Seattle. We haven’t spent any time together since we went mountain biking near Portland. That was a most interesting night…the first night I slept with Ana. The first night I slept with anyone! And Elliot fucked Ana’s best friend—but then Elliot has fucked many of the women with whom he’s come into contact. It’s not surprising, really; he’s good company. Easygoing. Good-looking, I suppose. Women flock to him, I’ll give him that. He puts them at ease.

  He’s always been able to charm our mother. He knows how to treat Grace. I used to envy the easy way he’d spin her around the kitchen floor or hug her or give her a passing peck on her cheek.

  He makes it look easy.

  As yet, he shows no signs of settling down.

  And if he does, I hope to God it’s not with Kavanagh.

  I send a quick text to Ana.

  No idea what Elliot has in mind.

  This is not how I planned to spend the day.

  Enjoy your shopping experience with Caroline Acton.

  Missing you. x

  ANA

  Missing you, too. Love you. Ax

  Elliot leaves I-5 for the 532.

  “Camano Island?” I ask.

  He winks at me, which is annoying. I check my watch, then my phone.

  “Dude! What gives? She’ll be fine without you, for fuck’s sake. Show some dignity. I packed some snacks. I know how disagreeable you get without food.”

  “Snacks? Where?”

  He opens the car caddy, revealing subs, chips, and Coke. Ah, all of life’s pleasures…if you’re Elliot.

  “Nutritious,” I mutter dryly.

  “It’s all good stuff, bro. Quit complaining. This is your bachelor party.”

  I laugh, because chips and Coke is not my idea of a good time. Subs, on the other hand…I smirk at my little private joke and reach for a can of Coke.

  About five miles into Camano Island, Elliot turns right. We drive through a farm gate into an open pasture, along a track, and up to a barn, where he pulls into a parking lot.

  “We’re here.”

  “Where is here?”

  “Friend’s place. It’s not open to the public yet. But it will be soon. We’re guinea pigs.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I figured marriage is pretty much a high-wire activity. I thought you should get some practice.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re going zip-lining.” He grins and clambers out of the car.

  This! This is my bachelor party? It is not what I was expecting. But hey, zip-lining could be fun.

  Elliot greets our hosts, and we’re directed into the barn, where a series of hooks hold the safety equipment: hard hats, harnesses, straps, and carabiners. It all looks reassuringly familiar.

  “Hey, hotshot, these harnesses are damned freaky. We could get up to some kinky shit in these,” Elliot blurts as he slips his on. And for once I’m at a complete loss as to what to say.

  Does he know?

  Are the tips of my ears red?

  Shit! Has Ana talked to Kate?

  Elliot looks his usual guileless self, so I assume not, because if he knew, he’d have razzed the shit of me. “You’re an idiot. This is like a chute,” I reply. Distraction is the best policy. “Got a new sailplane last week. You should come out to Ephrata for a day and we can take her up.”

  “For two?”

  “Yep.”

  “That would be super cool.”

  We’re on the first platform surrounded by pine trees. “To infinity and beyond!” Elliot shouts and leaps off, with all the fearlessness that I associate with his devil-may-fucking-care attitude. He whoops like a gorilla in heat as he whizzes down the line, his joy contagious. He lands surprisingly gracefully on the next platform, about one hundred feet away.

  Danielle, one of our guides, radios ahead to say I’m set and clips my lifeline to the zip-line trolley. “Ready, Christian?” she asks with an overeager smile.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Off you go.”

  Taking a deep breath, I grab the carabiner beneath the trolley with one hand, my lifeline with the other, and I jump. I fly through the fresh, lush forest, the pulley whistling above me and the summer breeze on my face. I’m on a roller coaster without a car, sailing between the Douglas firs beneath a brilliant blue sky, and it’s thrilling and liberating in equal measure. I land safely on the platform beside Elliot and the other guide.

  “Whaddya think?” Elliot claps me on the back.

  I grin. “This is pretty fucking excellent.”

  Danielle is last to land on the platform. “That was our first. They get higher and faster.”

  “Bring it!” I exclaim.

  Two hours later, still buzzing from our high-wire activity, we’re back on the road, Elliot behind the wheel. “Bro, as experiences go, that was right up there,” I acknowledge.

  “Better than sex?” Elliot cackles. “You’ve only just discovered it—so probably not.”

  “I’m a little more discerning in my tastes than you are, dude.”

  “I just like to spread the love around. The Big E wants what the Big E wants.”

  I shake my head with a snort of derision. I do not want to think about the Big E. “Can we get some real food now?”

  Elliot grins. “Nope, sorry, bro. You don’t want a full stomach for what we have planned next. Eat the sub.”

  “Next? Elliot, the zip line was great. There’s more?”

  “Oh, yes. Suck it up, buttercup.”

  Gingerly, I pick up one of the subs.

  “Those are made by my own fair hand.”

  “Don’t put me off.”

  “The finest bologna, tomato, and provolone cheese this side of the Rockies have gone into those sandwiches.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “You need to broaden your culinary horizons.”

  “With bologna?”

  “Whatever it takes. Unwrap t
hat for me.”

  I peel off the parchment paper and hand him the dubious-looking creation. He shoves it in his mouth and starts to chow down. It’s not a sight for the fainthearted, and I realize I have no choice, it’s bologna or starve.

  While I eat, I text Ana.

  Zip-lining.

  That’s what Elliot had planned.

  And bologna sandwiches.

  I’m living the dream.

  ANA

  LOL! I’m spending a great deal of your money.

  Not entirely consensually.

  Caroline Acton is a force to be reckoned with.

  She reminds me of you.

  Stay safe with whatever Elliot throws at you!

  Love you.

  And miss you. xxx

  I love it when you spend my money.

  It will very soon be your money, too.

  Will report on Elliot’s next “surprise.”

  xxx

  Elliot drives smoothly off I-5 onto the 2. Where the fuck are we going? I thought we were headed back to Seattle.

  “Surprise,” he responds to my questioning look.

  Seems to be his word of the day.

  Fifteen minutes later he pulls into the parking lot at Harvey Airfield.

  “Hey, there’s a steakhouse here—we could have had some real food,” I grumble.

  “Maybe later—we’ve got a class to catch.”

  “Class?”

  “Come on, hotshot, you’ve not guessed it yet?” He drives past the steakhouse.

  “No.”

  “We’re taking the plunge, because you’re taking the plunge.”

  What the hell?

  Elliot puts me out of my misery. “Skydiving.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Fuck!

  “It’ll be great. I’ve done a tandem jump before. It’s wild.”

  Of course he has.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Listen, you get married and women don’t let you do this shit. Come on.” Together we walk through the parking lot toward the sky-diving school, and my heart races. I like to be in control; tandem jumping means someone else is in control…and I’m strapped to them.

  And they’re touching me. At a great altitude.

  Hell.

  I’ve been as high up as 15,000 feet in my sailplane, and 20,000 feet in Charlie Tango. But then I was seated and piloting an aircraft that could fly. Leaping out of a plane? Into the sky? At height?