Fifty Shades Darker

"You are a pervert."

"I know." He raises his eyebrows and his grin broadens.

"My pervert," I whisper.

"Yes, yours."

Once secured, he grabs the sides of the jacket and kisses me. "Always," he breathes, then releases me before I have a chance to respond.

Always! Holy shit.

"Come." He grabs my hand and leads me outside, up some steps, and onto the upper deck to a small cockpit that houses a big steering wheel and a raised seat. At the prow of the boat, Mac is doing something with ropes.

"Is this where you learned all your rope tricks?" I ask Christian innocently.

"Clove hitches have come in handy," he says, looking at me appraisingly. "Miss Steele, you sound curious. I like you curious, baby. I'd be more than happy to demonstrate what I can do with a rope." He smirks at me, and I gaze back impassively as if he's upset me. His face falls.

"Gotcha." I grin.

His mouth twists and he narrows his eyes. "I may have to deal with you later, but right now, I've got to drive my boat." He sits at the controls, presses a button, and the engines roar into life.

Mac comes scooting back down the side of the boat, grinning at me, and jumps down to the deck below where he starts to unfasten a rope. Maybe he knows some rope tricks, too. The idea pops unwelcome into my head and I flush.

My subconscious glares at me. Mentally I shrug at her and glance at Christian - I blame Fifty. He picks up the receiver and radios the coastguard as Mac calls up that we are set to go.

Once more, I am dazzled by Christian's expertise. He's so competent. Is there nothing that this man can't do? Then I remember his earnest attempt to chop and dice a pepper in my apartment on Friday. The thought makes me smile.

Slowly, Christian eases The Grace out of her berth and toward the marina entrance. Behind us, a small crowd has gathered on the dockside to watch our departure. Small children are waving, and I wave back.

Christian glances over his shoulder, then pulls me between his legs and points out various dials and gadgets in the cockpit. "Grab the wheel," he orders, bossy as ever, but I do as I'm told.

"Aye, aye, captain!" I giggle.

Placing his hands snugly over mine, he continues to steer our course out of the marina, and within a few minutes, we are out on the open sea, slap into the cold blue waters of Puget Sound. Away from the shelter of the marina's protective wall, the wind is stronger, and the sea pitches and rolls beneath us.

I can't help but grin, feeling Christian's excitement - this is such fun. We make a large curve until we are heading west toward the Olympic Peninsula, the wind behind us.

"Sail time," Christian says, excited. "Here - you take her. Keep her on this course."

What? He grins, reacting to the horror in my face.

"Baby, it's really easy. Hold the wheel and keep your eye on the horizon over the bow.

You'll do great; you always do. When the sails go up, you'll feel the drag. Just hold her steady. I'll signal like this" - he makes a slashing motion across his throat - "and you can cut the engines. This button here." He points to a large black button. "Understand?"

"Yes." I nod frantically, feeling panicky . Jeez - I hadn't expected to do anything!

He kisses me quickly, then he steps off his captain's chair and bounds up to the front of the boat to join Mac where he starts unfurling sails, untying ropes, and operating winches and pulleys. They work well together in a team, shouting various nautical terms to each other, and it's warming to see Fifty interacting with someone else in such a carefree manner. Perhaps Mac is Fifty's friend. He doesn't seem to have many, as far as I can tell, but then, I don't have many either. Well, not here in Seattle. The only friend I have is on vacation sunning herself in St. James on the west coast of Barbados.

I have a sudden pang for Kate. I miss my roommate more than I thought I would when she left. I hope she changes her mind and comes home with her brother Ethan, rather than prolong her stay with Christian's brother Elliot.

Christian and Mac hoist the mainsail. It fills and billows out as the wind seizes it hungrily, and the boat lurches suddenly, zipping forward. I feel it through the wheel . Whoa!

They get to work on the headsail, and I watch fascinated as it flies up the mast. The wind catches it, stretching it taut.

"Hold her steady, baby, and cut the engines!" Christian cries out to me over the wind, motioning me to switch off the engines. I can only just hear his voice, but I nod enthusiastically, gazing at the man I love, all windswept, exhilarated, and bracing himself against the pitch and yaw of the boat.

I press the button, the roar of the engines ceases, and The Grace soars toward the Olympic Peninsula, skimming across the water as if she's flying. I want to yell and scream and cheer - this has to be one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life - except perhaps the glider, and maybe the Red Room of Pain.

Holy cow, this boat can move! I stand firm, grasping the wheel, fighting the rudder, and Christian is behind me once more, his hands on mine.

"What do you think?" he shouts above the sound of the wind and the sea.

"Christian! This is fantastic."

He beams, grinning from ear to ear. "You wait until the spinney's up." He points with his chin toward Mac, who is unfurling the spinnaker - a sail that's a dark, rich red. It reminds me of the walls in the playroom.

"Interesting color," I shout.

He gives me a wolfish grin and winks. Oh, it's deliberate.

The spinney balloons out - a large, odd elliptical shape - putting The Grace in overdrive. Finding her head, she speeds over the Sound.