fat free hummus recipe slimming world hands down my stomach, over my belly, and down to my thighs, his thumbs skimming my sex. I take my feet off his lap rea this time he lets me. I am going in to a meeting now.">
His daughter's married to one of the Crown Princes of Europe. I blink rapidly. Going from nothing to" - I wave my hand to indicate our opulent surroundings - "to everything. Taylor appears on deck. I gaze out at the sea, tuning out his conversation with Ros - I think - his number two. I am rich. I have done nothing to earn this money. I shudder as my mind drifts back to our conversation about prenups.
It was Sunday after his birthday and we were seated at the kitchen table enjoying a leisurely breakfast. Then her mouth purses as some obviously unpleasant thought crosses her mind.
Christian frowns. Mia reads the column out loud. But who is the lucky, lucky lady? The Nooz is on the hunt. Bet she's reading one helluva prenup. Mia giggles then stops abruptly as Christian glares at her. Silence descends, and the atmosphere in the Grey kitchen plunges to below zero.
Oh no! A prenup? The thought has never crossed my mind. Now later in the pdf, Ana and Grey have it all—love, passion, intimacy, wealth, and a world of possibilities for their future. Fifty Shades Freed - Chapter Reed C. Also, Shades of Grey is by far the favorite of the trilogy.
Fifty Shades Freed is the third book in the E. He chuckles. I clasp my arms around his neck. He grins. He inhales sharply and leans back, eyes smoky but wary.
The chill of the Mediterranean is soon forgotten as I wrap myself around my husband. He wraps my ponytail around his wrist and tugs gently, tilting my head back, exposing my throat. He trails kisses from my ear down my neck. Christian pulls away and gazes down at me, his eyes warm, wanting, and amused. What sort of monster have I created?
Would you have me any other way? But not right now. Not with an audience. Sure enough, several sunbathers on the beach have abandoned their indifference and now regard us with interest. Suddenly, Christian grabs me around my waist and launches me into the air, letting me fall into the water and sink beneath the waves to the soft sand below. I surface, coughing, spluttering and giggling. I thought we were going to make love in the sea. He bites his lower lip to stifle his amusement.
I splash him, and he splashes me right back. Playful, tantalizing Fifty! I shield my eyes from the sun as I watch him go. While I swim back to the shore, I contemplate my options. At the sun loungers our drinks have arrived, and I take a quick sip of Coke. Christian is a faint speck in the distance. Put this in your pipe and smoke it. I shut my eyes and let the sun warm my skin. I beam at my husband. I am married. I am Mrs. Christian Grey. I am giddy with joy.
Holy crap. How does he do this, even here with all these people staring at us? I nod mutely. Jeez, I hope no one can hear us. Luckily Reverend Walsh has discreetly stepped back. I glance at the throng gathered in their wedding finery. Who knew that even Elliot could scrub up so well? All wear huge, beaming smiles—except Grace, who weeps graciously into a dainty white handkerchief.
I melt. He looks divine in a simple black tux with silver waistcoat and tie. Later the wedding party is in full swing. Carrick and Grace have gone to town. They have the marquee set up again and beautifully decorated in pale pink, silver, and ivory with its sides open, facing the bay. We have been blessed with fine weather, and the late afternoon sun shines over the water. Ray and my mother are dancing and laughing with each other. I feel bittersweet watching them together. I hope Christian and I last longer.
Marry in haste, repent at leisure. The saying haunts me. Kate is beside me, looking so beautiful in her long silk gown. She glances at me and frowns. Are you watching your mom and Ray? I love him so much. I giggle. Trust Kate to point out the obvious.
She pulls me into a Katherine Kavanagh Special Hug. You look stunning, Anastasia. I love that the lace is just off the shoulder—demure, yet alluring, I hope. He bends and kisses me. Such lovebirds. And I think you can call me Grandma. Now, you two seriously need to get working on my great-grandkids.
Christian blinks at her in horror. He glances back at me, practically pouting, and rolls his eyes. I think I monopolized too much of your time on the dance floor as it is. If you need me. Good luck with everything. He frowns, not understanding, and tugs gently on my hand, halting me.
His eyes light up. I flush and let go of his hand. You look beautiful. And I want to be the one to undress you. I frown. Taylor has your main suitcase. Neither Mia nor Kate has managed to inveigle the information out of him. I turn to where my mother and Kate are hovering nearby. Her brow furrows briefly. Kate tries to disguise her snort as a cough.
I narrow my eyes at her. Neither she nor my mother have any idea of the fight Christian and I had about that. Jeez, can my Fifty Shades sulk. The memory is sobering. Kate rolls her eyes and tactfully moves away to leave us alone.
Oh, Mom! Beginning a new life. Christian is from a different universe, if only she knew. He looks so dapper in his black tux and pale pink waistcoat. Tears prick the back of my eyes. Oh no. You make one hell of a bride, Annie.
When he releases me, Christian is back at my side. Ray shakes his hand warmly. The rest of the wedding guests have formed a long human arch for us to travel through, leading round to the front of the house. Waiting with smiles and hugs at the end of the arch are Grace and Carrick. In turn they hug and kiss us both.
Grace is emotional again as we bid them hasty good- byes. Taylor is waiting to whisk us away in the Audi SUV. As Christian holds the car door open for me, I turn and toss my bouquet of white and pink roses into the crowd of young women that has gathered. Mia triumphantly holds it aloft, grinning from ear to ear. Taylor holds the car door open for him. As Taylor pulls away, our wedding guests shower the vehicle with rice. Christian grasps my hand and kisses my knuckles. Where are we going?
Taylor does not head for the departure terminal as I expect but through a security gate and directly on to the tarmac. Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. They have a brief discussion, then Christian opens my door—and rather than stepping back to give me room to climb out, he leans in and lifts me.
He carries me effortlessly up the steps, and Taylor follows with my small suitcase. He leaves it on the threshold of the plane before returning to the Audi. Beside Stephan stands a dark-haired woman in her what? Early thirties? Anastasia, you know Stephan. I want to roll my eyes. Another female completely captivated by my too-handsome-for-his-own-good husband. I smile kindly at her. After all—he is mine. The interior is all pale maple wood and pale cream leather.
Another young woman in uniform stands at the other end of the cabin—a very pretty brunette. Weather is good from here to Boston. Taking my hand, he leads me to one of the sumptuous leather seats. There must be about twelve of them in total. We sit in two single seats facing each other with a small, highly polished table between us. The champagne is delicious. Your graduation. He looks like a small boy. His grin broadens and he shakes his head. I gasp. Holy cow. I can hardly believe it.
My lifetime ambition has been to visit England. Oh my. As the plane taxis out on to the runway, we sip our champagne, grinning inanely at each other. And what a feast it is—smoked salmon, followed by roast partridge with a green bean salad and dauphinoise potatoes, all cooked and served by the ever-efficient Natalia. He shakes his head and runs his finger across his bottom lip as he looks questioningly at me, his expression dark and unreadable. His lips curl up in a small, secret smile and Natalia retreats.
He leads me to the back of the cabin. The cabin is cream and maple wood and the small double bed is covered in gold and taupe cushions.
It looks very comfortable. Christian turns and pulls me into his arms, gazing down at me. I gape at him, my heart pounding. He takes my breath away. How can he infuse so much promise into those two words? Willingly I comply and his hands move to my hair. Gently he pulls out each hairpin one at a time, his expert fingers making short work of the task. I'll send the license details to Welch, too," Barney says excitedly from the phone. Let me know where else that fucker has been in my building.
And check this image against the one from his SIP personnel file. Grey is correct. This is Jack Hyde. I can be useful. Christian rubs his hand down my back.
To Barney he says, "Let me know when you've tracked all his movements at HQ. Also check out any other GEH property he may have had access to, and let the security teams know so they can make another sweep of all those buildings. Grey, it seems that you are not only decorative, but useful, too. I know he's teasing. When we come up for air, my heart is racing. He narrows his eyes. Placing my hands on the arms of his office chair, I lean down and kiss him. But stow your twitching palm—you're hungry.
Grey, what am I going to do with you? What would you like to eat? Surprise me," he says, mirroring my words from the playroom earlier. My heart sinks when I see Mrs. Jones is there. Are you ready for something to eat? Grey and me. Grey likes French bread—there is some in the freezer cut to sub length. I'd be happy to make it for you, ma'am. But I'd like to do this. I'll give you some room. It can be eaten anytime. I'll freeze it. Does Mrs.
Jones understand the inference? Grey, you could put just about anything in a sandwich, and as long as it's on French bread, he'll eat it. I place two of them on a plate, pop them into the microwave, and set it to defrost. Jones has disappeared. I frown as I return to the fridge to search for in-gredients. I suppose it will be up to me to set the parameters by which Mrs. Jones and I will work together. I like the idea of cooking for Christian on the weekends.
Jones is more than welcome to do it during the week—the last thing I'll want to do when I come home from work is cook. I shake my head. I mustn't overthink this. I find some ham in the fridge, and in the crisper a perfectly ripe avocado. As I am adding a touch of salt and lemon to the mashed avocado, Christian emerges from his study with the plans for the new house in his hands.
He puts them on the breakfast bar, saunters toward me, and wraps his arms around me, kissing my neck. He stills, his whole body tensing against me. Not yet!
But I'm not ready to share you yet. Looks good. A delicious tingle travels down my spine. He smiles against my neck and nips my earlobe. Grey, you wound me. He slaps my behind, making me yelp. And later I'll show you how wimpy I can be. She really has some spectacular ideas. I sigh. What Gia is proposing is quite radical, but.
I fell in love with the house as it is. Is this going to make him mad? He regards me steadily. Whatever you want. It's yours. To be happy in it, too.
It's that simple, Ana. He is utterly, utterly sincere. I blink at him as my heart expands. Holy cow, he really does love me.
Maybe we could ask her to incorporate it into the house a little more sympathetically. What about the plans for upstairs and the basement? I steel myself to ask the million-dollar question. Christian's eyebrows shoot up. I shrug. After all, this will be a family home. I guess he's right. It could be years. He grins. When we finish, it's nine thirty in the evening. We have sat here three, maybe four times total, and Christian usually reads a book.