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you’ll do it because I have crossed some arbitrary line.”
    Hell.
She knows me. She has seen the monster. I’m not going there, or I will blow this deal. I ignore her first comment and concentrate on her second point. “But it’s not arbitrary—the rules are written down.”
    “I don’t want a set of rules.”
    “None at all?”
    Fuck—she might touch me.
How can I protect myself from that? And suppose she does something stupid that puts herself at risk?
    “No rules,” she states, shaking her head for emphasis.
    Okay, million-dollar question.
    “But you don’t mind if I spank you?”
    “Spank me with what?”
    “This.” I hold up my hand.
    She shifts in her seat, and a silent, sweet joy unfurls deep in my gut.
Oh, baby, I love it when you squirm.
    “No, not really. Especially with those silver balls…”
    My cock stirs at the thought.
Damn.
I cross my legs. “Yes, that was fun.”
    “More than fun,” she adds.
    “So you can deal with some pain.” I can’t keep the hope out of my voice.
    “Yes, I suppose.” She shrugs.
    Okay. So we may be able to structure a relationship around this.
    Deep breath, Grey, give her the terms.
    “Anastasia, I want to start again. Do the vanilla thing and then maybe, once you trust me more—and I trust you to be honest and to communicate with me—we could move on and do some of the things that I like to do.”
    That’s it.
    Fuck.
My heart rate escalates; blood thrums through my body, pounding past my eardrums as I wait for her reaction. My well-being hangs in the balance. And she says…nothing! She stares at me as we pass under a streetlight and I see her clearly. She’s assessing me. Her eyes still impossibly large in her beautiful, thinner, sadder face.
    Oh, Ana.
    “But what about punishments?” she says finally.
    I close my eyes. It’s not a no. “No punishments. None.”
    “And the rules?”
    “No rules.”
    “None at all? But you have needs…” Her voice trails off.
    “I need you more, Anastasia. These last few days have been hell. All my instincts tell me to let you go, tell me I don’t deserve you. “Those photos the boy took—I can see how he sees you. You look untroubled and beautiful, not that you’re not beautiful now, but here you sit. I see your pain. It’s so hard knowing that I’m the one who has made you feel this way.”
    It’s killing me, Ana.
    “But I’m a selfish man. I’ve wanted you since you fell into my office. You are exquisite, honest, warm, strong, witty, beguilingly innocent; the list is endless. I am in awe of you. I want you, and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twisting in my dark soul.”
    Fuck. Flowery, Grey! Real flowery.
    I’m like a man possessed. I’m going to scare her off.
    “Christian, why do you think you have a dark soul?” she cries out, totally surprising me. “I would never say that. Sad maybe, but you’re a good man. I can see that—you’re generous, you’re kind, and you’ve never lied to me. And I haven’t tried very hard. Last Saturday was such a shock to my system. It was my wake-up call. I realized that you’d been easy on me, and that I couldn’t be the person you wanted me to be. Then, after I left, it dawned on me that the physical pain you inflicted was not as bad as the pain of losing you. I do want to please you, but it’s hard.”
    “You please me all the time.” When will she understand this? “How often do I have to tell you that?”
    “I never know what you’re thinking.”
    She doesn’t? Baby, you read me like one of your books; except I’m not the hero. I’ll never be the hero.
    “Sometimes you’re so closed off, like an island state,” she continues. “You intimidate me. That’s why I keep quiet. I don’t know which way your mood is going to go. It swings from north to south and back again in a nanosecond. It’s confusing and you won’t let me touch you, and I want so much to show you how much I love you.”
    Anxiety bursts in my