Fifty Shades Book 1 - Page 48

"My mother liked you," he says dryly.

"Really?" His words make me flush with pleasure.

"Oh yes. She's always thought I was g*y."

My mouth drops open, and I remember that question... from the interview. Oh no.

"Why did she think you were g*y?" I whisper.

"Because she's never seen me with a girl."

"Oh... not even one of the fifteen?"

He smiles.

"You remembered. No, none of the fifteen."

"Oh."

"You know, Anastasia, it's been a weekend of firsts for me, too," he says quietly.

"It has?"

"I've never slept with anyone, never had s.e.x in my bed, never flown a girl in Charlie Tango, never introduced a woman to my mother. What are you doing to me?" His eyes burn, their intensity takes my breath away.

The waitress arrives with our gla.s.ses of wine, and I immediately take a quick sip. Is he opening up or just making a casual observation?

"I've really enjoyed this weekend," I murmur. He narrows his eyes at me again.

"Stop biting that lip," he growls. "Me too," he adds.

"What's vanilla s.e.x?" I ask, if anything to distract myself from the intense, burning, s.e.xy look he's giving me. He laughs.

"Just straightforward s.e.x, Anastasia. No toys, no added extras." He shrugs. "You know... well actually you don't, but that's what it means."

"Oh." I thought it was chocolate fudge brownie s.e.x that we had, with a cherry on the top. But hey, what do I know?

The waitress brings us soup. We both stare at it rather dubiously.

"Nettle soup," the waitress informs us before turning and flouncing back into the kitchen. I don't think she likes to be ignored by Christian. I take a tentative taste. It's delicious.

Christian and I look up at each other at the same time with relief. I giggle, and he c.o.c.ks his head to one side.

"That's a lovely sound," he murmurs.

"Why have you never had vanilla s.e.x beforeHave you always done... err, what you've done?" I ask, intrigued.

He nods slowly.

"Sort of." His voice is wary. He frowns for a moment and seems to be engaged in some kind of internal struggle. Then he glances up, a decision made. "One of my mother's friends seduced me when I was fifteen."

"Oh." Holy s.h.i.t that's young!

"She had very particular tastes. I was her submissive for six years." He shrugs.

"Oh." My brain has frozen, stunned into inactivity by this admission.

"So I do know what it involves, Anastasia." His eyes glow with insight.

I stare at him, unable to articulate anything - even my subconscious is silent.

"I didn't really have a run-of-the-mill introduction to s.e.x."

Curiosity kicks in big time.

"So you never dated anyone at college?"

"No." He shakes his head to emphasize the point.

The waitress takes our plates, interrupting us for a moment.

"Why?" I ask when she's gone.

He smiles sardonically.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"I didn't want to. She was all I wanted, needed. And besides, she'd have beaten the s.h.i.t out of me." He smiles fondly at the memory.

Oh, this is way too much information - but I want more.

"So if she was a friend of your mother's, how old was she?"

He smirks.

"Old enough to know better."

"Do you still see her?"

"Yes."

"Do you still... err... ?" I flush.

"No." He shakes his head and smiles indulgently at me. "She's a very good friend."

"Oh. Does your mother know?"

He gives me a don't-be-stupid stare.

"Of course not."

The waitress returns with venison, but my appet.i.te has vanished. What a revelation.

Christian the submissive... Holy s.h.i.t. I take a large slug of Pinot Grigio - he's right, of course, it's delicious. Jeez, all these revelations, it's so much to think about. I need time to process this, when I'm on my own, not when I'm distracted by his presence. He's so overwhelming, so Alpha Male, and now he's thrown this bombsh.e.l.l into the equation. He knows what it's like.

"But it can't have been full time?" I'm confused.

"Well, it was, though I didn't see her all the time. It was... difficult. After all, I was still at school and then at college. Eat up, Anastasia."

"I'm really not hungry, Christian." I am reeling from your disclosure.

His expression hardens.

"Eat," he says quietly, too quietly.

I stare at him. This man - s.e.xually abused as an adolescent - his tone is so threatening.

"Give me a moment," I mutter quietly. He blinks a couple of times.

"Okay," he murmurs, and he continues with his meal.

This is what it will be like if I sign, him ordering me around. I frown. Do I want this?

Reaching for my knife and fork, I tentatively cut into the venison. It's very tasty.

"Is this what our err... relationship will be like?" I whisper. "You, ordering me around?" I can't quite bring myself to look at him.

"Yes," he murmurs.

"I see."

"And what's more, you'll want me to," he adds, his voice low.

I sincerely doubt that. I slice another piece of venison, holding it against my mouth.

"It's a big step," I murmur and eat.

"It is." He closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, they are wide and grave.

"Anastasia, you have to go with your gut. Do the research, read the contract - I'm happy to discuss any aspect. I'll be in Portland until Friday if you want to talk about it before then." His words are coming at me in a rush. "Call me - maybe we can have dinner - say, WednesdayI really want to make this work. In fact, I've never wanted anything as much as I want this to work."