“Christian, you had me at the meadow.”

“Well, when you were nearly run over by the cyclist-and i was holding you and you were looking up at me - all 'kiss me , kiss me, Christian”

“No. No!” he says.“I . . .” He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don’t know.“You can’t go. Ana, I love you!”“I love you, too, Christian, it’s just—”“No . . . no!” he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. “Christian . . .”“No,” he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn’t move. What? “Christian, what are you doing?”He continues to stare down, not looking at me. “Christian! What are you doing?”My voice is high-pitched. He doesn’t move. “Christian, look at me!” I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze—he’s almost serene . . . expectant.Holy Fuck . . . Christian. The submissive.”

“I was holding you and you were looking up at me all ‘kiss me, kiss me, Christian’,” he pauses and shrugs slightly, “I felt I owed you an apology and a warning.”

“Anastasia.” He answers immediately, his voice warm and caressing. How is it that this man can make me melt over the phone?“Christian, Jack has asked me to get his lunch.”“Lazy bastard,” Christian gripes.”

“I hug him tightly. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Christian. I love you so much it frightens me.” “Me, too,” he breathes. “My life would be empty without you. I love you so much.”

“Christian Grey just sent me a winkey ... Oh my. I fire up Google.”