by James, E L
“Yes. I will. Christ knows what Clark will do with that information.”
I exhale. They’re here, in my brain, the missing memories. It’s a relief. And once more I’m grateful that my parents came to see me this evening. They’ve dislodged whatever was holding these recollections back.
Ana smiles, relieved for me, I think. But enough of my fucked-up history. I owe Ana an explanation. But where to start? She might be too tired; she’s worked hard to entertain my family. “Thank you for this evening.”
“For what?”
“Catering for my family at a moment’s notice.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Mia. And Mrs. Jones. She keeps the pantry well stocked.”
Ana! Take a compliment. She’s such an exasperating woman sometimes, but I let it go. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Grey?”
“Good. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
Ana’s eyes light up, and her fingers dance over my belly.
I laugh and grab her hand. “Oh, no. Don’t get any ideas.”
Her lips purse in disappointment, and she stares up at me through her lashes again. “Ana, Ana, Ana, what am I going to do with you?” I kiss her hair.
“I have some ideas.” She wriggles beside me and stops suddenly, her face scrunched in pain.
Ana! You’re hurt.
She smiles quickly, to reassure me.
“Baby, you’ve been through enough. Besides, I have a bedtime story for you.”
She looks up, expectant.
“You wanted to know…” I close my eyes and swallow, as my mind drifts back to my adolescence.
I’m fifteen again.
“Picture this: an adolescent boy looking to earn some extra money so he can continue his secret drinking habit.” I open my eyes, but I can still see myself as I was back then: a tall but scrawny teen, in cut-off shorts, with a shock of copper hair and a belligerent fuck-off attitude.
That was me.
Hell.
I shift onto my side so Ana and I are lying facing each other. Her eyes are wide, and full of questions. I take a deep breath. “So, I was in the backyard at the Lincolns’, clearing some rubble and trash from the extension Mr. Lincoln had just added to their place.”
Closing my eyes again, I’m there once more. The scent of summer flowers hangs thick in the air. Insects buzz and I swat them away. The heat from the midday sun is beating down on me, so much so that I strip off my T-shirt. And there’s Elena. Wearing the lowest-cut dress I’ve ever seen—it barely sheathes her body.
When I chance a look at Ana, she’s still staring at me, hanging on my every word. “It was a hot summer day. I was working hard.” I chuckle, remembering this was probably one of the few days I ever did any manual labor. “It was backbreaking work, shifting that rubble. I was on my own, and Ele—Mrs. Lincoln appeared out of nowhere and brought me some lemonade. We exchanged small talk, and I made some smartass remark—and she slapped me. She slapped me so hard.” My hand moves automatically to my cheek as I remember the unfamiliar sting. No one had ever slapped me like that.
My eyes are here, boy. Mrs. Lincoln points two fingers at her face.
She caught me staring at her tits.
Well. You couldn’t miss them.
Fuck.
I was hard. Instantly. To bursting.
Mrs. Lincoln’s gaze drifts to my pants.
Fuck. My boner! It’s humiliating.
Like that, do you? she drawls, scarlet lips lifting in a sexy smile.
I think I’m gonna come in my pants.
“But then she kissed me. And when she finished, she slapped me again.”
Her mouth is hot. Wet. Strong. Everything I ever wet-dreamed about.
“I’d never been kissed before or hit like that.”
Ana gasps.
Fuck. “Do you want to hear this?”
Ana stares, round-eyed, and her words rush out in a breathless whisper. “Only if you want to tell me.”
“I’m trying to give you some context.”
She nods, but she looks like she’s seen a fucking ghost, and I hesitate. Should I continue? I look deeply into her startled eyes, and all I see are more questions. She’s hungry for information; she’s always hungry for more.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling and continue my sorry tale. “Well, naturally, I was confused and angry…and horny as hell. I mean, a hot older woman comes on to you like that.”
It was the first time I’d ever been kissed.
Ever. It was heaven. And hell, too.
“She went back into the house, leaving me in the backyard. She acted as if nothing had happened. I was at a total loss.” I wanted to rub one out right there. But, of course, I couldn’t. “So I went back to work, loading the rubble into the dumpster. When I left that evening, she asked me to come back the next day. She didn’t mention what had happened. The next day I went back. I couldn’t wait to see her again.” I’m whispering, as if I were in the confessional. “She didn’t touch me when she kissed me.” Only my face, where she grabbed me. It was a revelation.
I turn to face Ana. “You have to understand—my life was hell on earth. I was a walking hard-on, fifteen years old, tall for my age, hormones raging. The girls at school—”
They were interested.
And so was I…but I couldn’t bear to be touched.
I fought everyone off.
And pushed everyone away with my rage.
“I was angry, so fucking angry at everyone, at myself, my folks. I had no friends. My therapist at the time was a total asshole. My folks, they kept me on a tight leash; they didn’t understand.” I gaze at the ceiling, thinking how solicitous Carrick and Grace had been this evening.
“I just couldn’t bear anyone touching me. I couldn’t. Couldn’t bear anyone near me. I used to fight. Fuck, did I fight. I got into some godawful brawls. I was expelled from a couple of schools. But it was a way to let off steam. To tolerate some kind of physical contact.” I clench my fists, remembering one particular brawl.
Wilde. That asshole. Picking on smaller kids.
“Well, you get the idea. And when she kissed me, she only grabbed my face. She didn’t touch me.”
It was such a relief.
To finally experience that kind of contact.
And it was so fucking exciting.
My life changed in that moment.
Everything changed.
“Well, the next day I went back to the house, not knowing what to expect. And I’ll spare you the gory details, but there was more of the same.”
I could whip a savage like you into shape. Elena’s drawl echoes in my mind.
Savage? She knows!
She sees me.
The bad seed.
“And that’s how our relationship started.” Shaking off the memory, I turn to face Ana once more. “And you know something, Ana? My world came into focus. Sharp and clear. Everything. It was exactly what I needed. She was a breath of fresh air. Making the decisions, taking all that shit away from me, letting me breathe. And even when it was over, my world stayed in focus, because of her. And it stayed that way…until I met you.” Suddenly a flood of emotion wells inside me, almost engulfing me.
Ana.
My love.
Reaching up, I smooth a stray tendril of her hair behind her ear, because I want—no, need—to touch her. “You turned my world on its head.” Suddenly, I see her pale, sad face, leaving me as the elevator doors close. “My world was ordered, calm, and controlled, then you came into my life with your smart mouth, your innocence, your beauty, and your quiet temerity and everything before you was just dull, empty, mediocre. It was nothing.”
Ana sucks in a breath.
“I fell in love,” I whisper, and strum my knuckles across her cheek.
<
br /> “So did I,” she responds, and I feel her breath on my face.
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
You’re still here with me, listening to this sorry, disturbing story. You saved me.
Her face breaks into a shy smile. “Finally,” she murmurs.
“And it’s put everything into perspective for me. When I was younger, Elena was the center of my world. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. And she did a lot for me. She stopped my drinking. Made me work hard at school. You know, she gave me a coping mechanism I hadn’t had before, allowed me to experience things that I never thought I could.”
“Touch,” Ana asks.
“After a fashion.”
Ana’s brows pucker together, and her eyes are full of new questions. I have no choice but to tell her. “If you grow up with a wholly negative self-image, thinking you’re some kind of reject, an unlovable savage, you think you deserve to be beaten.” I pause, gauging her reaction. “Ana, it’s much easier to wear your pain on the outside.”
It’s much harder on the inside.
I don’t dwell on that thought. “She channeled my anger. Mostly inward—I realize that now. Dr. Flynn’s been on and on about this, for some time. It was only recently that I saw our relationship for what it was. You know, on my birthday.”
Ana grimaces.
“For her that side of our relationship was about sex and control, and a lonely woman finding some kind of comfort with her boy toy.”
“But you like control,” she says.
“Yes. I do. I always will, Ana. It’s who I am. I surrendered it for a brief while. Let someone make all my decisions for me. I couldn’t do it myself—I wasn’t in a fit state. But through my submission to her, I found myself, and found the strength to take charge of my life. Take control and make my own decisions.”
“Become a Dom?”
“Yes.”
“Your decision?”
“Yes.”
“Dropping out of Harvard?”
“My decision, and it was the best decision I ever made. Until I met you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. The best decision I ever made was marrying you.” I smile at her.
“Not starting your company?” she whispers.
I shake my head.
“Not learning to fly?”
No, baby. “You.” I stroke her cheek once more, marveling at its softness. “She knew.”
“She knew what?”
“That I was head over heels in love with you. She encouraged me to go down to Georgia to see you, and I’m glad she did. She thought you’d freak out and leave. Which you did.”
Ana blinks, and the color drains from her cheeks.
“She thought I needed all the trappings of the lifestyle I enjoyed.”
“The Dom?”
Yes. “It enabled me to keep everyone at arm’s length, gave me control, and kept me detached, or so I thought. I’m sure you’ve worked out why.”
“Your birth mom?”
“I didn’t want to be hurt again. And then you left me.” I see the elevator doors closing on Ana once more, and I remember sitting on my foyer floor for what seemed like hours. “And I was a mess.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve avoided intimacy for so long—I don’t know how to do this.”
“You’re doing fine.” She sculpts my lips with her finger, and I press a kiss to her fingertip as we gaze at each other. And as ever, I’m drowning in her blue eyes. “Do you miss it?” she asks.
“Miss it?”
“That lifestyle.”
“Yes, I do.”
From her look, I’m not sure she believes me. “But only insofar as I miss the control it brings. And, frankly, your stupid stunt”—I halt—“that saved my sister.”
You mad. Bad. Beautiful woman. “That’s how I know.”
“Know?” She frowns.
“Really know that you love me.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Because you risked so much. For me. For my family.”
Her frown deepens, and I can’t resist. Reaching over, I skim over her brow with my fingertip. “You have a v here when you frown. It’s very soft to kiss.” Her expression lightens. “I can behave so badly, and yet you’re still here,” I murmur.
“Why are you surprised I’m still here? I told you I wasn’t going to leave you.”
“Because of the way I behaved when you told me you were pregnant.” Of its own accord, my finger traces her brow and down her cheek. “You were right. I am an adolescent.”
She purses her lips. Contrite. “Christian, I said some awful things.”
I place my finger over her mouth.
“Hush. I deserved to hear them. Besides, this is my bedtime story.” I roll onto my back again. “When you told me you were pregnant—” I stop, fighting my shame and trying to find the words. “I’d thought it would be just you and me for a while. I’d considered children, but only in the abstract. I had this vague idea we’d have a child sometime in the future. You’re still so young, and I know you’re quietly ambitious. Well, you pulled the rug out from under me. Christ, was that unexpected. Never in a million years, when I asked you what was wrong, did I expect you to be pregnant.” I sigh, disgusted at myself. “I was so mad. Mad at you. Mad at myself. Mad at everyone. And it took me back, that feeling of nothing being in my control. I had to get out. I went to see Flynn, but he was at some school parents’ evening.”
I glance at her as I arch a brow, hoping that she sees the funny side of that. And of course, she does.
“Ironic,” she says and we both smirk.
“So I walked and walked and walked, and I just found myself at the salon. Elena was leaving. She was surprised to see me. And, truth be told, I was surprised to find myself there. She could tell I was mad and asked me if I wanted a drink. We went to a quiet bar I know and had a bottle of wine. She apologized for the way she behaved the last time she saw us. She’s hurt that my mom will have nothing to do with her anymore—it’s narrowed her social circle—but she understands. We talked about the business, which is doing fine, in spite of the recession… I mentioned that you wanted kids.”
“I thought you let her know I was pregnant.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
I shrug. “I never got the chance.” You were too angry.
“Yes, you did.”
“I couldn’t find you the next morning, Ana. And when I did, you were so mad at me.”
“I was.”
“Anyway, at some point in the evening—about halfway through the second bottle—she leaned over to touch me. And I froze.” I throw my arm over my eyes. I’m mortified.
Spit it out, Grey.
“She saw that I recoiled from her. It shocked both of us.”
Ana tugs at my arm, so I turn and gaze at her.
I’m sorry, baby.
“What?” Ana asks.
I swallow, trying to fight the awkwardness. “She made a pass at me.”
Ana’s face transforms. She’s appalled. And mad. Again.
Fuck.
“It was a moment, suspended in time,” I continue hastily. “She saw my expression, and she realized how far she’d crossed the line. I said no, I haven’t thought of her like that for years, and besides”—I swallow again, my voice soft—“I love you. I told her I love my wife.”
Ana stares at me. Silent.
Oh, my love, what are you thinking? I stumble on. “She backed right off. Apologized again, made it seem like a joke. I mean, she said she’s happy with Isaac and with the business and she doesn’t bear either of us any ill will. She said she missed my friendship, but she could see that my life was with you now. And how awkward that was, given what happene
d the last time we were all in the same room. I couldn’t have agreed with her more. We said our good-byes—our final good-byes. I said I wouldn’t see her again, and she went on her way.”
“Did you kiss?”
“No!” Good God no. “I couldn’t bear to be that close to her. I was miserable. I wanted to come home to you. But I knew I’d behaved badly. I stayed and finished the bottle, then started on the bourbon. While I was drinking, I remembered your saying to me some time ago, ‘If that was my son…’ And I got to thinking about Junior, and about how Elena and I started. And it made me feel…uncomfortable. I’d never thought of it like that before.”
“That’s it?” Ana breathes.
“Pretty much.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“It’s over?”
“Yes. It’s been over since I laid eyes on you. I finally realized it that night, and so did she.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“What for?”
“Being so angry the next day.”
“Baby, I understand angry.”
Angry is my middle name.
I sigh. “You see, Ana, I want you to myself. I don’t want to share you. What we have, I’ve never had before. I want to be the center of your universe, for a while at least.”
“You are,” she objects. “That’s not going to change.”
“Ana,” I whisper gently, with a resigned smile. “That’s just not true. How can it be?”
Tears well in her eyes.
“Shit—don’t cry, Ana. Please, don’t cry.” I lay my hand on her cheek.
“I’m sorry.” Her lip trembles, and I brush my thumb over it as my heart swells.
“No, Ana, no. Don’t be sorry. You’ll have someone else to love as well. And you’re right. That’s how it should be.”
“Blip will love you, too. You’ll be the center of Blip’s—Junior’s world. Children love their parents unconditionally, Christian.”
I feel the blood drain from my face.
“That’s how they come into the world,” Ana continues, her passion clear. “Programmed to love. All babies, even you. Think about that children’s book you liked when you were small. You still wanted your mom. You loved her.”
Ella.
Hey, Maggot. Let’s find your cars.