Chapter 57


    Now she turns around. “Join me,” she says with a provocative smile. She’s naked and lovely and


    wanton and tempting.


    She’s alsopletely drunk.


    “Get into bed. I’ll be back.”


    She sways, sits down, then flops back on the bed, and I lift her feet onto the mattress and cover her up.


    “Are you going to punish me?” she slurs.


    “Punish you?”


    “For getting this drunk. A punishment fuck. You can do anything you want to me,” she whispers, and


    holds out her arms.


    Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    Oh God.


    A million erotic thoughts flit through my mind, and it takes all my willpower to lean over, gently nt a


    kiss on her forehead, and leave.


    In the closet, which is still full of shopping bags from her earlier trip, I ce her clothes in theundry


    basket and strip out of my suit and shirt.


    I drag on my PJs and a T-shirt and head into the bathroom.


    While brushing my teeth I contemte what I could do to a drunken Ana. She wants punishing? My


    thoughts do little to ease my erection.


    “Pervert,” I mouth at my reflection.


    I switch off the lights and head back into the bedroom. As I suspected, Ana is out cold, her hair spilling


    in all directions over the pillows. She looks lovely. I climb in beside her and roll onto my side to watch


    her sleep.


    She’s going to have one helluva hangover in the morning.


    Leaning over, I kiss her hair. “I love you, Anastasia,” I whisper, and Iy back and stare at the ceiling.


    I’m surprised that I’m not furious with her. No, I found her charming, and funny.


    Maybe, I’m growing up. Finally.


    I hope so. This time next week, I’ll be a married man.


    Tuesday, July 26, 2011


    I hang up from my call with Troy Whn, my banker. I’ve set up a joint ount for me and Ana that will


    go live once she’s Mrs. Anastasia Grey. I’m not sure what she’ll ever need it for—but, if something


    happens to me… Jeez. If something happens to her…


    My phone buzzes, distracting me from a slew of dark thoughts. “Mr. Grey, I have your mother on the


    line,” Andrea says.


    I suppress a groan. “Put her through.”


    “Will do. Here you go, sir.”


    “Grace.”


    “Darling. How are you?”


    “I’m good. What is it?”


    “Always so brusque. I’m checking up on you, that’s all. I talk to Ana more than you these days.”


    “Well, I’m good. Still here. Still getting married. Thank you for all that you’ve done. Is there anything


    specific you want?”


    She sighs. “No, darling. I’m looking forward to the rehearsal dinner, and having Ana stay with us the


    night before the wedding. And of course her mother and her step-father, Bob, too. I’m d we’re


    meeting them before the big day. Are they on good terms with her dad?”


    “With Ray? I think so. But I don’t know, you’ll need to ask Ana.”


    “I’ll do that. I’m d he’s staying with you.”


    It was not my idea. “Ana is hoping that we’ll bond.” Frankly, Raymond Steele intimidates me.


    Grace pauses. “I’m sure you will. Do you have a marriage license?”


    I scoff. “Of course we do. We picked it upst week.”


    “Honeymoon?”


    “It’s all arranged.”


    “And your suit?”


    I direct my eye roll at the phone. “It was delivered today. It fits.”


    “Rings?”


    Rings?


    Shit.


    Rings!


    How the hell did we forget about rings? “In hand,” I mutter, andugh, because both Ana and I have


    overlooked the rings.


    “What’s so funny?”


    “Nothing, Mom. Anything else?”


    “You forgot the rings?”


    I sigh. Busted. “How did you know?”


    “I’m your mother…and you called me Mom. You rarely do that.” The humor and warmth in her voice is


    soothing.


    “Perceptive, Dr. Grey.”


    She chuckles. “Oh, Christian, I love you so much. If you don’t have rings, you’d better get some.


    Everything here is on track; the pavilion goes up tomorrow, and the decorators will follow.”


    “Thanks, Mom. Thanks for everything.”


    “See you Friday.” She hangs up and I stare out at the Seattle skyline, grateful to all that is holy, for Dr.


    Grace Trevelyan-Grey.


    Mom.


    I call Ana.


    “Anastasia Steele.” She sounds distracted.


    “We forgot the rings.”


    “Rings? Oh! Rings!”


    Iugh, because her reaction is the same as mine, and I can imagine her eyes widening in shock. “I


    know! How could we forget?”


    “My mom always says the devil is in the details,” Ana agrees.


    “She’s not wrong. What sort of ring would you like?”


    “Oh…um…”


    “I thought a tinum band to match your engagement ring?”


    “Christian, that would be…that…um…that would be more than mighty fine.” Her voice is a whisper.


    I smile. “I’ll get matching ones.”


    She gasps. “You’ll wear one, too?”


    “Why wouldn’t I?” I’m surprised by her question.


    “I don’t know. I’m thrilled that you would.”


    “Ana, I’m yours. I want the world to know.”


    “I’m very pleased to hear that.”


    “You should know this by now.”


    “I do know,” she whispers. “It still gives me all the feels when you say it.”


    “The feels?”


    She giggles. “Yes. The feels.”


    “Sounds painful.”


    “No. It’s the opposite of painful.”


    My heart soars. Sometimes she takes my breath away. I swallow, trying to contain my tion. “I’d


    better get right on this.”


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