Read Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian for Free Online

relief is tangible and I grin.
    I have a date!
    Opening the door, I let her back into the room as Taylor conceals his puzzled look.
    “Can you grab my jacket, Taylor?”
    “Certainly, sir.”
    He turns on his heel, his lips twitching as he heads up the corridor. I watch him with narrowed eyes as he disappears into the elevator while I lean against the wall and wait for Miss Steele.
    What the hell am I going to say to her?
    “How would you like to be my submissive?”
    No. Steady, Grey. Let’s take this one stage at a time.
    Taylor is back within a couple of minutes, holding my jacket.
    “Will that be all, sir?”
    “Yes. Thanks.”
    He gives it to me and leaves me standing like an idiot in the corridor.
    How long is Anastasia going to be? I check my watch. She must be negotiating the car swap with Katherine. Or she’s talking to Rodriguez, explaining that she’s just going for coffee to placate me and keep me sweet for the article. My thoughts darken. Maybe she’s kissing him good-bye.
    Damn.
    She emerges a moment later, and I’m pleased. She doesn’t look like she’s just been kissed.
    “Okay,” she says with resolve. “Let’s do coffee.” But her reddening cheeks somewhat undermine her effort to look confident.
    “After you, Miss Steele.” I conceal my delight as she falls into step ahead of me. As I catch up with her my curiosity is piqued about her relationship with Katherine, specifically their compatibility. I ask her how long they’ve known each other.
    “Since our freshman year. She’s a good friend.” Her voice is full of warmth. Ana is clearly devoted. She came all the way to Seattle to interview me when Katherine was ill, and I find myself hoping that Miss Kavanagh treats her with the same loyalty and respect.
    At the elevators I press the call button and almost immediately the doors open. A couple in a passionate embrace spring apart, embarrassed to be caught. Ignoring them, we step into the elevator, but I catch Anastasia’s impish smile.
    As we travel to the first floor the atmosphere is thick with unfulfilled desire. And I don’t know if it’s emanating from the couple behind us or from me.
    Yes. I want her. Will she want what I have to offer?
    I’m relieved when the doors open again and I take her hand, which is cool and not clammy as expected. Perhaps I don’t affect her as much as I’d like. The thought is disheartening.
    In our wake we hear embarrassed giggling from the couple.
    “What is it about elevators?” I mutter. And I have to admit there’s something wholesome and naïve about their giggling that’s totally charming. Miss Steele seems that innocent, just like them, and as we walk onto the street I question my motives again.
    She’s too young. She’s too inexperienced, but, damn, I like the feel of her hand in mine.
    In the coffee shop I direct her to find a table and ask what she wants to drink. She stutters through her order: English Breakfast tea—hot water, bag on the side. That’s a new one to me.
    “No coffee?”
    “I’m not keen on coffee.”
    “Okay, bag-out tea. Sugar?”
    “No thanks,” she says, staring down at her fingers.
    “Anything to eat?”
    “No thank you.” She shakes her head and tosses her hair over her shoulder, highlighting glints of auburn.
    I have to wait in line while the two matronly women behind the counter exchange inane pleasantries with all their customers. It’s frustrating and keeping me from my objective: Anastasia.
    “Hey, handsome, what can I get you?” the older woman asks with a twinkle in her eye. It’s just a pretty face, sweetheart.
    “I’ll have a coffee with steamed milk. English Breakfast tea. Teabag on the side. And a blueberry muffin.”
    Anastasia might change her mind and eat.
    “You visiting Portland?”
    “Yes.”
    “The weekend?”
    “Yes.”
    “The weather sure has picked up today.”
    “Yes.”
    “I hope you get out to enjoy some sunshine.”
    Please stop talking to me and hurry the fuck