Chapter 131


    "Anastasia," Christian summons me. "Come." He holds out his hand.


    "See youter." I smile at Taylor, and giving me a quick salute, he heads back to the parking lot.


    "Mr. Benson, this is my girlfriend Anastasia Steele."


    "Pleased to meet you," I murmur as we shake hands.


    Benson gives me a dazzling smile.


    "Likewise," he says, and I can tell from his ent that he''s British.


    As I take Christian''s hand, there''s a mounting excitement in my belly. Wow... gliding! We follow Mark


    Benson out across the tarmac towards the runway. He and Christian keep up a running conversation. I


    catch the gist. We will be in a nik L-23, which is apparently better than the L-13, although this is


    open to debate. Benson will be flying a Piper Pawnee. He''s been flying tail draggers for about five


    Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    years now. It all means nothing to me, but ncing up at Christian, he is so animated, so in his


    element, it''s a pleasure to watch him.


    The ne itself is long, sleek, and white with orange stripes. It has a small cockpit with two seats one


    in front of the other. It''s attached by a long white cable to a small, conventional single-propeller ne.


    Benson opens therge, clear Perspex dome that frames the cockpit, allowing us to climb in.


    "First we need to strap on your parachute."


    Parachute!


    "I''ll do that," Christian interrupts him and takes the harness off Benson, who smiles amenably at him.


    "I''ll fetch some bast," Benson says and heads toward the ne.


    "You like strapping me into things." I observe dryly.


    "Miss Steele, you have no idea. Here, step into the straps."


    I do as I''m told, cing my arm on his shoulder. Christian stiffens slightly but doesn''t move. Once my


    feet are in the loops, he pulls the parachute up, and I ce my arms through the shoulder straps. Deftly


    he fastens the harness and tightens all the straps.


    "There, you''ll do," he says mildly, but his eyes are gleaming. "Do you have your hair tie from


    yesterday?"


    I nod.


    "You want me to put my hair up?"


    "Yes."


    I quickly do as I''m asked.


    "In you go," Christianmands. He''s still so bossy. I go to climb into the back.


    "No, front. Pilot sits at the back."


    "But won''t you be able to see."


    "I''ll see plenty." He grins.


    I don''t think I have ever seen him so happy, bossy, but happy. I mber in, settling down into the


    leather seat. It is surprisinglyfortable. Christian leans over, pulls the harness over my shoulders,


    reaches between my legs for the lower belt, and slots it into the fastener that rests against my belly. He


    tightens all the restraining straps.


    "Hmm, twice in one morning, I am a lucky man," he whispers and kisses me quickly.


    "This won''t take long - twenty, thirty minutes at most. Thermals aren''t great this time of the morning, but


    it''s so breathtaking up there at this hour. I hope you''re not nervous."


    "Excited." I beam.


    Where did this ridiculous grine fromActually, part of me is terrified. My inner goddess - she''s under


    a nket behind the sofa.


    "Good." He grins back, stroking my face, then disappears from view.


    I hear and feel his movements as he climbs in behind me. Of course he''s strapped me in so tightly I


    can''t move round to see him... typical! We are very low on the ground. In front of me is a panel of dials


    and levers and a big stick thing. I leave well alone.


    Mark Benson appears with a cheerful grin as he checks my straps and leans in and checks the cockpit


    floor. I think it''s the bast.


    "Yep, that''s secure. First time?" he asks me.


    "Yes."


    "You''ll love it."


    "Thanks, Mr. Benson."


    "Call me Mark." He turns to Christian. "Okay?"


    "Yep. Let''s go."


    I am so d I haven''t eaten anything. I am beyond excited, and I don''t think my stomach would be


    game for food, excitement, and leaving the ground. Once again, I am putting myself into this beautiful


    man''s skilled hands. Mark shuts the cockpit lid, strolls over to the ne in front, and climbs in.


    The Piper''s single propeller starts, and my nervous stomach relocates itself to my throat. Jeez... I''m


    really doing this. Mark taxis slowly down the runway, and as the cable takes the strain, we suddenly jolt


    forward. We''re off. I hear chatter over the radio set behind me. I think it''s Mark talking to the tower - but


    I can''t make out what he''s saying.


    As the Piper picks up speed, so do we. It''s very bumpy, and in front of us, the single prop ne is still


    on the ground. Jeez, will we ever get upAnd suddenly, my stomach disappears from my throat and


    free-falls through my body to the ground - we''re airborne.


    "Here we go, baby!" Christian shouts from behind me. And we are in our own bubble, just us two. All I


    hear is the sound of the wind ripping past and the distant hum of the Piper''s engine.


    I''m gripping the edge of my seat with both hands, so tightly my knuckles are white.


    We head west, ind away from the rising sun, gaining height, crossing over fields and woods and


    homes and I-95. Oh my. This is amazing, above us only sky. The light is extraordinary, diffuse and


    warm in hue, and I remember Jose rambling on about ''magic hour'', a time of day that photographers


    adore - this is it... just after dawn, and I''m in it, with Christian.


    Abruptly, I''m reminded of Jose''s show. Hmm. I need to tell Christian. I wonder briefly how he''ll react.


    But I won''t worry about that, not now - I''m enjoying the ride. My ears pop as we gain height, and the


    ground slips further and further away. It is so peaceful.


    Ipletely get why he likes to be up here. Away from his ckBerry and all the pressures of his job.


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