by James, E L
“Is he here?”
“I hope so. I’m paying him enough.”
She laughs and we both exit the car.
“Yo, bro!” I hear Elliot shout, but I can’t see him.
“Up here!” I scan the roofline, grateful that I’m wearing aviators against the glare of the sun, and there he is, waving at us. His grin rivals the Cheshire Cat’s. “About time we saw you here. Stay where you are. I’ll be right down.”
I reach out to Ana, and she takes my hand, and while we wait, we study the exterior of what will be our home. It’s bigger than I remember.
Plenty of room for our child.
My wayward thought surprises me.
Finally, Elliot appears at the front door caked in grime but still wearing his broad grin. He’s clearly over the moon that we’re here. “Hey, bro.” He pumps my hand like he’s trying to drag water from the deepest well. “And how are you, little lady?” He grabs Ana and swings her around.
“Better, thanks,” she says, laughing, a little embarrassed, I think.
Dude! Quit manhandling my wife! Her ribs are bruised!
He sets her down and I scowl at him.
Asshole.
But he ignores me—no one is raining on his parade today. “Let’s head over to the site office. You’ll need one of these.” He slaps the hard hat perched on his head.
Elliot gives us a thorough tour of the house, or what’s left of it—it’s almost a shell. Meticulously he explains the work in progress, and how long each stage is going to take. When he’s in his element like this, he’s so engaging. Both Ana and I listen, rapt.
The back wall at the rear has disappeared. This is where Gia Matteo’s glass wall will be, and the view is spectacular. There are a few sails out on the Sound, and I’m tempted to go down to The Grace after our visit here. But that’s not such a good idea, given Ana’s recent injuries. She’s still recovering and needs to take it easy.
“Hopefully we’ll be finished by Christmas,” Elliot declares.
“Next year,” I interject. There is no way we’ll be in by Christmas.
“We’ll see. With a fair wind it’s doable.”
In the kitchen, he concludes our tour. “I’ll leave you two to roam. Be careful. This is a building site.”
“Sure. Thanks, Elliot.”
My brother gives us a cheery wave and heads up the covered staircase to join his construction crew, back on the roof. I take Ana’s hand. “Happy?”
Ana gives me a dazzling smile. “Very. I love it. You?”
“Ditto.”
“Good. I was thinking of the pepper pictures in here.” Ana points to one of the walls.
I nod in agreement. “I want to put up José’s portraits of you in this house. You need to decide where they should go.”
Her cheeks stain that delicious shade of pink. “Somewhere I won’t see them often.”
“Don’t be like that.” I brush my thumb across her bottom lip. “They’re my favorite pictures. I love the one in my office.”
“I have no idea why.” She pouts and kisses the pad of my thumb.
“Worse things to do than look at your beautiful smiling face all day. Hungry?”
“Hungry for what?” She peers at me with the come-hither look that I know so well.
Oh, baby. I can only take so much of this.
“Food, Mrs. Grey.” I kiss her quickly.
She pouts and sighs. “Yes. These days I’m always hungry.”
“The three of us can have a picnic.”
“Three of us? Is someone joining us?”
I drop my head to one side.
Forgotten someone, Ana? “In about seven or eight months,” I murmur.
She grins goofily at me… Yeah. Him.
“I thought you might like to eat alfresco,” I suggest, casually.
“In the meadow?”
I nod.
“Sure.” Ana lights up. And I feel ten feet tall for thinking of bringing a picnic. We have so much space and privacy here.
“This will be a great place to raise a family.” I gaze down at my wife.
Junior will be happy here.
The meadow as his backyard.
I reach out and spread my hand over her belly. Ana’s breath hitches and she places her hand on mine.
“It’s hard to believe,” I whisper.
“I know. Oh—here, I have evidence. A picture.”
“You do? Baby’s first smile?”
From her wallet she produces a black-and-white image on shiny paper and hands it to me. “See?” she says.
The grainy photograph is mostly gray. But in the middle, there’s a small, dark void, and within that, there’s a tiny anomaly, anchored to the gray, but visible against the darkness. “Oh, blip,” I breathe in wonder. “Yeah, I see.”
Our blip. Wow. Our tiny human. Baby Grey.
And I’m surprised by a momentary pang of regret, that I missed this moment with Ana.
“Your child,” she whispers.
“Our child,” I correct her.
“First of many.”
“Many?” What?
“At least two.” Ana sounds hopeful.
“Two?” Shit! “Can we just take this one child at a time?”
She smiles up at me fondly. “Sure.”
I take her hand, and together we walk back through the house and out the front door.
It’s such a beautiful afternoon. The scents of the Sound, the meadow grass, and flowers hang in the air. My beautiful wife is by my side. It’s heaven. And soon there will be three of us. “When are you going to tell your folks?” I ask.
“Soon. I thought about telling Ray this morning, but Mr. Rodriguez was there.” Ana shrugs.
I nod. I get it, Ana.
Lifting the hood of the R8, I gather up the wicker picnic basket and the tartan blanket that Ana bought from Harrods in London. “Come.” Hand in hand, we stroll into the meadow. When we’re far enough from the house, I release her, and together we spread the blanket on the ground. I settle down beside her, shrug off my jacket, and slip off my shoes and socks. I take a moment to just breathe, taking in a lungful of fresh air. We’re shielded by the long grass, away from the world, truly in our own bubble. As Ana opens the picnic basket to inspect all the goodies that Mrs. Jones has provided, my phone vibrates.
Shit.
It’s Ros.
“…Thank you for answering my question, and glad to hear that Ana is on the mend,” Ros says over the phone.
“You’re welcome.” It’s the second time she’s called and the third call I’ve had since we started our picnic.
“You shouldn’t be so indispensable.”
I laugh. “You flatter me.”
Ana is lying beside me, half listening to my side of the conversation. Her brow puckers at my last remark.
“You should take a couple of days off,” I tell Ros. “After all, you spent most of the weekend traveling back from Taiwan.”
“That’s a great idea. I may take Thursday and Friday, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure, Ros, go for it.”
“Will do. Thanks, Christian. Good-bye.”
I toss my phone down, and resting my hands on my raised knees, I regard my wife. She’s lying beside me on our blanket, gazing up with a dreamy expression. Reaching over, I pluck another strawberry from what’s left of Mrs. Jones’s excellent picnic and trace it along Ana’s mouth. She parts her lips, and the tip of her tongue toys with the strawberry, then sucks it into her warm, wet mouth.
I feel it in my groin. “Tasty?” I whisper.
“Very.”
“Had enough?”
“Of strawberries, yes.” Her tone is low.
Ana, no one can see us here.
Grey, behave.
<
br /> I grin. Enough. I change the subject. “Mrs. Jones packs a mighty fine picnic.”
“That she does.”
God, I miss my wife—all of her. I lie down, gently resting my head on her belly, and close my eyes, trying not to think of all the things I’d like to do to her right now. Her fingers caress my hair.
Oh, this is bliss.
My BlackBerry starts buzzing again.
Shit. It’s Welch. What does he want?
I answer, a little grumpy at the interruption. “Welch.”
“Mr. Grey. I have an update. It was Eric Lincoln of Lincoln Timber who paid Hyde’s bail.”
Fuck.
That motherfucking asshole.
I sit up. My senses switch to high alert as my anger takes hold.
“I’d like to place him under watch, unless you have any objection.”
“24/7,” I snarl in agreement.
How dare Lincoln get involved with Hyde?
This is a declaration of war.
“Will do. I don’t know what else he might have planned, or how the two of them are connected. But I’ll find out.”
“Thanks.” He hangs up, and I can barely contain my fury. Gripping my phone, I realize now is the moment for payback. My plans were laid long ago, and as the saying goes, revenge is a dish best served cold. I give Ana a cool smile and call Ros.
“Christian. I thought you were enjoying your day off?”
I kneel up—I’m not calling for chitchat.
“Ros, how much stock do we own in Lincoln Timber?”
“Let me just check.” She’s all business. “We hold sixty-six percent between all the shell companies.”
Excellent.
“So, consolidate the shares into GEH, then fire the board.”
“All of them? Has something happened?”
“Except the CEO.”
“Christian, that doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
She gasps. “There’ll be no company left. What can the CEO do? If you want to liquidate this company, this isn’t the way.”
“I hear you, just do it,” I growl, keeping a lid on my anger.
She sighs, sounding resigned. “They’re your shares.” She’s not going to argue further.
“Thank you,” I reply, feeling a little calmer.
“I’ll get Marco on it.”
“Keep me informed.”
When I hang up, Ana is wide-eyed. “What’s happened?” she whispers.
“Linc.”
“Linc? Elena’s ex?”
“The same. He’s the one who posted Hyde’s bail.”
Ana’s mouth drops open in shock. “Well—he’ll look like an idiot,” she says, dismayed. “I mean, Hyde committed another crime while out on bail.”
As ever, Ana has a smart response. “Fair point well made, Mrs. Grey.”
“What did you just do?” She kneels up to face me.
“I fucked him over.”
She shivers. “Um, that seems a little impulsive.”
“I’m an in-the-moment kind of guy.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I’ve had this plan in my back pocket for a while,” I explain.
A hostile takeover.
“Oh?” Ana tilts her head, her gaze demanding answers. I debate whether to tell her.
Hell, she knows everything about Elena anyway. I take a deep breath and shoot her a warning look. This is rough, Ana. “Several years back, when I was twenty-one, Linc beat his wife to a pulp. He broke her jaw, her left arm, and four of her ribs because she was fucking me. And now I learn he posted bail for a man who tried to kill me, kidnap my sister, and fracture my wife’s skull. I’ve had enough. I think it’s payback time.” My mind drifts to that awful moment when he beat me, too—I thought he’d dislocated my jaw. My hand moves to my chin as I recall the disturbing incident. I lost consciousness for a few minutes and it was enough time for him to do his worst to Elena.
And I did nothing. I was too shocked...too dazed.
Damn. Grey, stop. Now.
Ana’s face is pale. “Fair point well made, Mr. Grey,” she says.
“Ana, this is what I do. I’m not usually motivated by revenge, but I cannot let him get away with this. What he did to Elena—well, she should have pressed charges, but she didn’t. That was her prerogative.” My jaw tenses. “But he’s seriously crossed the line with Hyde. Linc’s made this personal by going after my family. I’m going to crush him, break up his company right under his nose, and sell the pieces to the highest bidder. I’m going to bankrupt him.”
Ana gasps.
“Besides,” I add, trying to lighten the tone, “we’ll make good money out of the deal.”
She blinks several times, and I wonder if she’s seeing me in a whole new light. Not a good one.
Shit. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t,” she whispers.
I arch a brow. Does she mean that? Or is she trying to make me feel better?
“You just took me by surprise,” Ana concedes.
I cup her face in my hands and brush my lips against hers.
I’m not sorry, Ana. “I will do anything to keep you safe. Keep my family safe. Keep this little one safe.” I place my hand on her belly, and Ana’s breath hitches.
Her eyes meet mine, and in their blue depths, her desire is smoldering, calling to me.
Fuck.
I want her.
She’s so enticing. I slip my fingers a little lower, brushing her sex through her clothes with the tips of my fingers, teasing her.
Ana pounces, grabbing my head, entwining her fingers in my hair and tugging my lips to hers. I gasp in surprise, and her tongue is instantly in my mouth.
Desire, hot and heavy, travels at light speed all the way to the end of my cock.
Damn, I’m hard.
I groan and return her kiss, my tongue tangling with hers.
It’s been so long.
The taste of her, the feel of her. She’s everything. “Ana,” I breathe in longing against her lips. I’m bewitched, my hands moving undirected over her beautiful behind to the hem of her skirt and the soft flesh of the thighs.
Thank all that is holy for this short skirt!
Her hands start to unbutton my shirt, as ever all fingers and thumbs.
And for a moment her fumbling fingers distract me.
“Whoa, Ana—stop.” With enormous restraint, I pull back and grab her hands.
“No,” she cries, distraught, and her teeth clamp over my lower lip. “No.” She’s insistent, darkening blue eyes staring at me with longing. She releases me. “I want you.”
Ana! You’re hurt!
My body agrees with Ana.
“Please, I need you.” It’s a heartfelt plea.
Oh, fuck.
I’m done. I concede, overcome by her ardor and my need. I groan, and my mouth finds hers, kissing her and tasting her once more. Cradling her head, I run my hand down her body to her waist, and gently ease her onto her back and stretch out beside her.
We kiss.
And kiss.
Lips and tongues locked.
Reacquainting ourselves with each other.
When I come up for air, I stare down into eyes dazed with passion. “You are so beautiful, Mrs. Grey.”
Her fingers strum my face. “So are you, Mr. Grey. Inside and out.”
Oh, I’m not sure that’s true.
Her fingers trace the line of my brow. “Don’t frown,” she whispers. “You are to me, even when you’re angry.”
She says the sweetest things. I moan and kiss her once more and revel in her response, her body rising to meet mine. “I’ve missed you.” My words are inadequate and no match for the feel
ings behind them.
She is the world to me.
I skim my teeth over her jaw.
“I’ve missed you, too. Oh, Christian.”
Her passion spurs me on. I run my lips along her throat, leaving soft, wet kisses in their wake, and I unbutton her shirt and tug it open to kiss the soft swell of her breasts.
Sweet Jesus, they’re bigger!
Already.
Mm. “Your body’s changing,” I murmur in appreciation, and rub my thumb over her bra, coaxing her nipple awake until it’s begging for my lips. “I like…”
Did I say that out loud?
I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m just so enamored of my wife. I nuzzle her breast with my nose and my tongue through the white gossamer of her bra. As her nipple strains for release, I use my teeth to drag down the cup, freeing her breast. Her nipple puckers in the gentle breeze, and I draw it slowly into my mouth and suck hard.
“Ah!” Ana groans, then flinches beneath me.
Fuck! Her ribs!
I stop, immediately. “Ana!” Damn. “This is what I’m talking about. Your lack of self-preservation. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Desperate, blazing eyes meet mine. “No! Don’t stop,” she whimpers. “Please.”
Shit. My whole body is screaming don’t stop.
But—
Hell!
“Here.” Carefully, I lift her and shift so she’s sitting astride me, and my hands travel smoothly up her legs to the tops of her thigh-highs.
She is one helluva sight. Her hair falling toward me, eyes soft and full of desire, her breast free. “There. That’s better, and I can enjoy the view.” I hook my finger into the other bra cup, drag it down so that I have both of her breasts to enjoy. As I take them in my hands, Ana groans and throws her head back, pushing them farther into my palms.
Oh, baby.
I tug and tease each of her nipples, and they lengthen further beneath my touch until she cries out. I want her mouth; I sit up so we’re nose to nose and kiss her, my tongue and my fingers teasing and tantalizing her.
Ana’s fingers are at my shirt again, scrambling to undo the remaining buttons, and she’s kissing me back with such fervor that I’m sure either one or both of us will combust. There’s a desperation in her kiss. “Hey—” Gently, I grasp her head and ease back. “There’s no rush. Take it slow. I want to savor you.”
“Christian, it’s been so long.” She’s breathless.