Fifty Shades Darker
Chapter 142
"Seriously, I'm kidding. You've never been that kind of girl."
"Omelet good for you?" I ask, changing the subject. I don't want to argue.
"Sure."
"And me," Christian says as he saunters into the great room. Holy f**k, he's wearing only pajama bottoms that hang in that totally hot way off his hips - Jeez!
"Jose." He nods.
"Christian." Jose returns his nod solemnly.
Christian turns to me and smirks as I stare. He's done this on purpose. I narrow my eyes at him, desperately trying to recover my equilibrium, and Christian's expression alters subtly. He knows that I know what he's up to, and he doesn't care.
"I was going to bring you breakfast in bed."
Swaggering over, he wraps his arm around me, tilts my chin up, and plants a loud wet kiss on my lips. Very unFifty!
"Good morning, Anastasia," he says. I want to scowl at him and tell him to behave -
but it's his birthday. I flush. Why is he so territorial?
"Good morning, Christian. Happy birthday." I give him a smile, and he smirks at me.
"I'm looking forward to my other present," he says and that's it. I flush the color of the Red Room of Pain and glance nervously at Jose, who looks like he's swallowed something unpleasant. I turn away and start preparing the food.
"So what are your plans today, Jose?" Christian asks, seemingly casual as he sits down on a barstool.
"I'm heading up to see my dad and Ray, Ana's dad."
Christian frowns.
"They know each other?"
"Yeah, they were in the army together. They lost contact until Ana and I were in college together. It's kinda cute. They're best buds now. We're going on a fishing trip."
"Fishing?" Christian is genuinely interested.
"Yeah - some great catches in these coastal waters. The steelheads can grow way big."
"True. My brother Elliot and I landed a thirty-four pound steelhead once."
They're talking fishing? What is it about fishing? I have never understood it.
"Thirty-four pounds? Not bad. Ana's father though, he holds the record. A forty-three pounder."
"You're kidding! He never said."
"Happy birthday, by the way."
"Thanks. So, where do you like to fish?"
I zone out. This I do not need to know. But at the same time I'm relieved. See, Christian? Jose's not so bad.
By the time Jose makes to leave, both of them are much more relaxed with each other.
Christian quickly changes into T-shirt and jeans and barefoot he accompanies Jose and me to the foyer.
"Thanks for letting me crash here," Jose says to Christian as they shake hands.
"Anytime," Christian smiles.
Jose hugs me quickly. "Stay safe, Ana."
"Sure. Great to see you. Next time we'll have a proper evening out."
"I'll hold you to that." He waves at us from inside the elevator, and then he's gone.
"See, he's not so bad."
"He still wants into your panties, Ana. But can't say I blame him."
"Christian, that's not true!"
"You have no idea, do you?" He smirks down at me. "He wants you. Big time. "
I frown. "Christian, he's just a friend, a good friend." And I'm suddenly aware that I sound like Christian when he's talking about Mrs. Robinson. The thought is unsettling.
Christian holds up his hands in a placating gesture.
"I don't want to fight," he says softly.
Oh! We're not fighting... are we? "Me neither."
"You didn't tell him we were getting married."
"No. I figured I ought to tell Mom and Ray first." Shit. It's the first time I've thought about this since I said yes. Jeez - what are my parents going to say?
Christian nods. "Yes, you're right. And I... um, I should ask your father."
I laugh. "Oh, Christian - this isn't the eighteenth century."
Holy shit. What will Ray say? The thought of that conversation fills me with horror.
"It's traditional." Christian shrugs.
"Let's talk about that later. I want to give you your other present." My aim is to distract him. The thought of my present is burning a hole in my consciousness. I need to give it to him and see how he reacts.
He gives me his shy smile, and my heart skips a beat. For as long as I live, I'll never tire of looking at that smile.
"You're biting your lip," he says and pulls on my chin.
A thrill runs through my body as his fingers touch me. Without a word, and while I still have a modicum of courage, I take his hand and lead him back to the bedroom. I drop his hand, leaving him standing by the bed, and from under my side of the bed, I take out the two remaining gift boxes.
"Two?" he says, surprised.
I take a deep breath. "I bought this before the, um... incident yesterday. I'm not sure about it now." I quickly hand him one of the parcels before I can change my mind. He gazes at me, puzzled, sensing my uncertainty.
"Sure you want me to open it?"
I nod, anxious.
Christian tears off the packaging and gazes in surprise at the box.
"Charlie Tango," I whisper.
He grins. The box contains a small wooden helicopter with a large, solar-powered rotor blade. He opens it up.
"Solar powered," he murmurs. "Wow." And before I know it he's sitting on the bed assembling it. It snaps together quickly, and Christian holds it up in the palm of his hand.
A blue wooden helicopter. He looks up at me and gives me his glorious, all-American-boy smile, then heads to the window so that the little helicopter is bathed in sunlight and the rotor starts to spin.
"Omelet good for you?" I ask, changing the subject. I don't want to argue.
"Sure."
"And me," Christian says as he saunters into the great room. Holy f**k, he's wearing only pajama bottoms that hang in that totally hot way off his hips - Jeez!
"Jose." He nods.
"Christian." Jose returns his nod solemnly.
Christian turns to me and smirks as I stare. He's done this on purpose. I narrow my eyes at him, desperately trying to recover my equilibrium, and Christian's expression alters subtly. He knows that I know what he's up to, and he doesn't care.
"I was going to bring you breakfast in bed."
Swaggering over, he wraps his arm around me, tilts my chin up, and plants a loud wet kiss on my lips. Very unFifty!
"Good morning, Anastasia," he says. I want to scowl at him and tell him to behave -
but it's his birthday. I flush. Why is he so territorial?
"Good morning, Christian. Happy birthday." I give him a smile, and he smirks at me.
"I'm looking forward to my other present," he says and that's it. I flush the color of the Red Room of Pain and glance nervously at Jose, who looks like he's swallowed something unpleasant. I turn away and start preparing the food.
"So what are your plans today, Jose?" Christian asks, seemingly casual as he sits down on a barstool.
"I'm heading up to see my dad and Ray, Ana's dad."
Christian frowns.
"They know each other?"
"Yeah, they were in the army together. They lost contact until Ana and I were in college together. It's kinda cute. They're best buds now. We're going on a fishing trip."
"Fishing?" Christian is genuinely interested.
"Yeah - some great catches in these coastal waters. The steelheads can grow way big."
"True. My brother Elliot and I landed a thirty-four pound steelhead once."
They're talking fishing? What is it about fishing? I have never understood it.
"Thirty-four pounds? Not bad. Ana's father though, he holds the record. A forty-three pounder."
"You're kidding! He never said."
"Happy birthday, by the way."
"Thanks. So, where do you like to fish?"
I zone out. This I do not need to know. But at the same time I'm relieved. See, Christian? Jose's not so bad.
By the time Jose makes to leave, both of them are much more relaxed with each other.
Christian quickly changes into T-shirt and jeans and barefoot he accompanies Jose and me to the foyer.
"Thanks for letting me crash here," Jose says to Christian as they shake hands.
"Anytime," Christian smiles.
Jose hugs me quickly. "Stay safe, Ana."
"Sure. Great to see you. Next time we'll have a proper evening out."
"I'll hold you to that." He waves at us from inside the elevator, and then he's gone.
"See, he's not so bad."
"He still wants into your panties, Ana. But can't say I blame him."
"Christian, that's not true!"
"You have no idea, do you?" He smirks down at me. "He wants you. Big time. "
I frown. "Christian, he's just a friend, a good friend." And I'm suddenly aware that I sound like Christian when he's talking about Mrs. Robinson. The thought is unsettling.
Christian holds up his hands in a placating gesture.
"I don't want to fight," he says softly.
Oh! We're not fighting... are we? "Me neither."
"You didn't tell him we were getting married."
"No. I figured I ought to tell Mom and Ray first." Shit. It's the first time I've thought about this since I said yes. Jeez - what are my parents going to say?
Christian nods. "Yes, you're right. And I... um, I should ask your father."
I laugh. "Oh, Christian - this isn't the eighteenth century."
Holy shit. What will Ray say? The thought of that conversation fills me with horror.
"It's traditional." Christian shrugs.
"Let's talk about that later. I want to give you your other present." My aim is to distract him. The thought of my present is burning a hole in my consciousness. I need to give it to him and see how he reacts.
He gives me his shy smile, and my heart skips a beat. For as long as I live, I'll never tire of looking at that smile.
"You're biting your lip," he says and pulls on my chin.
A thrill runs through my body as his fingers touch me. Without a word, and while I still have a modicum of courage, I take his hand and lead him back to the bedroom. I drop his hand, leaving him standing by the bed, and from under my side of the bed, I take out the two remaining gift boxes.
"Two?" he says, surprised.
I take a deep breath. "I bought this before the, um... incident yesterday. I'm not sure about it now." I quickly hand him one of the parcels before I can change my mind. He gazes at me, puzzled, sensing my uncertainty.
"Sure you want me to open it?"
I nod, anxious.
Christian tears off the packaging and gazes in surprise at the box.
"Charlie Tango," I whisper.
He grins. The box contains a small wooden helicopter with a large, solar-powered rotor blade. He opens it up.
"Solar powered," he murmurs. "Wow." And before I know it he's sitting on the bed assembling it. It snaps together quickly, and Christian holds it up in the palm of his hand.
A blue wooden helicopter. He looks up at me and gives me his glorious, all-American-boy smile, then heads to the window so that the little helicopter is bathed in sunlight and the rotor starts to spin.
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