Work Text:
Christian's New Assistant
“ANASTASIA!” I bellow into the intercom. My travel itinerary is an absolute disaster. My new assistant has royally screwed up my travel schedule. She has my quarterly visit with the Germans overlapping with my negotiations for the shipyard in Taiwan. I am surrounded by idiots, absolute idiots.
“Yes, Mr. Grey,” my new assistant says, letting herself into my office. She walks across the marble floor and sits herself in one of the chairs facing my desk. Clearly, she has trouble reading social cues. She should be shaking in her five-inch Louboutins. I should hear a tremble in her voice. Did she not hear my anger over the intercom? I am sure that the guys in the basement heard me yell.
Christ, I will be glad when Andrea returns from her maternity leave. I need my head moron wrangler guarding the gaits to my kingdom. Until then, I am stuck with this incompetent, fresh-from-college twit.
“Care to explain this?” I growl as I toss the poor excuse for a travel itinerary across my desk.
Showing no fear or trepidation, Anastasia Steele picks up the itinerary. A small V forms above her nose as she scrutinizes the document. Why is it taking her so long to explain this epic mistake? Is she too dense to recognize her error? I wonder how much money it would take to get Andrea to come back early from her maternity leave. She has already been out for 9 days, sixteen hours, and 24 minutes. Surely, she is bored and ready to return to work? Hell, she can even bring the little vomit comet with her. I’ll have Ros give her a call. Ros can sell drugs to the D.A.R.E. dog.
“I’m sorry sir,” Anastasia says in her soft, sure voice. “You’ll have to explain to me what the problem is.” She looks right at me with her large blue eyes.
“Explain the problem to you?” I bellow as I begin to run my hands through my hair. “You have me finishing the negotiations with the Taiwanese at 10 pm on the 21st and starting my meeting in Frankfurt at 7:30 am on the 22nd.”
My temporary assistant raises her eyebrows and shakes her head, failing to understand.
“It takes 15 hours to fly from Taiwan to Frankfurt. How in the fuck do you intend for me to attend a meeting that starts five and a half hours before I land?” I clap my hands down on my desk to make my point, and hopefully, put the fear of God into this little dolt.
Anastasia giggles. She fucking giggles at me. “Mr. Grey, your itinerary is listed in local time. Frankfurt is 6 hours behind Taiwan. Furthermore, I took the liberty of contacting your pilot, Stephen, who assures me that the flight will be just over 13 hours with the tail winds. Thus, you have plenty of time to finish your meeting in Taiwan, travel to the airport, sleep on the plane, and arrive in plenty of time to make your meeting the next morning in Germany.”
“Who the hell told you to put the itinerary in local time? Andrea always makes it in Pacific Standard time so that I can plan conference calls while on the plane.”
“Andrea did, sir. She sent you a memo about it before she left. Apparently, some of the other GEH executives have missed foreign meetings due to incorrect local time calculations. Publishing schedules in local time will prevent errors when converting times, Mr. Grey.” Anastasia says in her sweet, melodical voice punctuated with another one of her cute giggles. Wait, did I just call her giggle cute? Fuuuuuck, I need to get laid before hell gets icy.
I grumble and growl as I try to think of a comeback to what Anastasia is telling me. Unfortunately, I now remember the memo that Andrea sent about this very topic.
“Well, Anastasia, Andrea usually schedules international meetings at least a day or two apart so that I have time to rest and prepare. This schedule leaves me little time for either.”
“Understandable, sir,” again with her annoyingly placating voice. “I thought that you might want some down time between meetings as well. I was planning to schedule the times as such when I got your company-wide email about reducing GEH’s carbon footprint. I thought that scheduling these meetings together would be a large reduction. Spending the night in the air reduces the need for a hotel room and meals in restaurants. Of course, if you would rather, I can push back the meeting with the Germans to give you more time to prepare.”
I tug at my hair until it hurts. This little 5-foot, 4-inch doe is mopping me into the corner. I just sent out a very preachy email about reducing GEH’s carbon usage. It’s bad enough that I am using a private jet instead of flying commercial. If we want to get this company to carbon neutral, I need my executives to start thinking just as Anastasia is doing. Still, it does not mean that I like the inconvenience.
“Fine, Anastasia. We will leave the itinerary as it is. The stacked meetings mean that I will need an assistant to come along with me to help me prepare for the second meeting while we are en route.”
“Yes sir,” she replies again in that calming voice. “Who would you like to accompany you on the trip?”
I think for a moment about who I want to punish the most on the admin team. Whoever comes along will be required to accompany me to several 18-hour days of negotiations in Taiwan followed by pulling an all-nighter on the flight to Germany. Who deserves this wretched assignment?
“You, Anastasia. You will be accompanying me on this trip,” I grin. I will instill the fear of God, no, make that the fear of Christian Grey, in Anastasia Steele if it is the last thing that I do. I hope that she is ready to work until her knuckles bleed, because I intend to make this trip a living hell for her.
Apfelwein
Despite my best efforts, I cannot persuade Anna to spend her time learning German on her app. The morning that we arrive in Frankfurt, we check-in to our hotel. Ana’s room is not ready so I offer for her to come to my suite until such time.
“Why, Mr. Grey,” she feigns in mock disbelief. “It wouldn’t be proper, visiting my boss’s hotel room. Whatever would they say about me?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Just kidding. I’m totally down for crashing on your sofa. Does the room come with a butler or do we have to slum it and call room service ourselves?” She gives my arm a pat and rolls her suitcase onto the elevator.
“Chop, chop, Grey,” she claps her hands. “Come show me the secret button for your floor.” I grab her hand and pull her out of the lift. I leave her suitcase with the bellhop and lead her around the corner to a hidden alcove. Taylor waves a card in front of a small panel and the doors open to the private elevator.
“An elevator with no buttons? Now this is the life,” Ana giggles as we ascend to the presidential floor.
My assistant is stunned speechless when we enter my suite and her luggage is awaiting her.
“I…um…they…how did they do that?” She keeps looking back and forth from the rolling suitcase that she just left on the first floor to the door of my room.
“This is the life,” I tease her back, tapping my nose.
I offer Ana the use of one of the smaller bedrooms to shower and change. When Taylor and I return from our workout, I find her lounging on the sofa in a hotel robe.
“You look right at home, Ms. Steele.”
“What can I say,” she shrugs. “Luxury is my natural habitat.” She pops a grape in her mouth. ”Go wash up, Grey. Lunch is on the way.”
I leave my little brown-haired pixie to grab a quick shower. When I return, Ana is dressed in black skinny jeans, a white tank, and a fitted red blazer with the sleeves rolled up. She looks cute as fuck in her on-point ensemble with her bare feet. What I wouldn’t do to suck on those sweet little toes…
Ana has already set up our laptops and several folders alongside our lunch on the dining room table. She effortlessly switches gears from playful Ana to business Ms. Steele. She has even added some lipgloss and mascara.
We eat our lunch while reviewing the most recent quarter’s figures from our German office. Ana is efficient and well-prepared. She refers me to data that needs some focus during our meetings with my German executives. Ana clears our dishes and we take over the table with our charts and spreadsheets. The afternoon passes quickly as we go through mountains of data. Ana takes notes on key points. By dinner, we have covered a vast amount of work. Ana is an excellent assistant. No wonder Andrea picked her as her replacement. I wonder how Andrea would feel about extending her maternity leave a few more months than planned?
I am disappointed when the front desk phones that Ana’s room is ready. She packs up her suitcase and returns to the living room wearing red patent leather stilettos. And just like that business Ana transitions into sexy-as-fuck nightlife Anastasia. Not wanting to let her amazing legs perched in her sinful heels go to waist, I suggest that we meet in the lobby and go in search of some dinner. Ana agrees. While she settles into her room, I send Taylor down to the concierge for restaurant recommendations.
After a delicious dinner of wiener-schnitzel-wurst, or something like that, Ana surprises me. She directs Taylor to drop us at a pedestrian alley in some sort of reconstructed historic district. We wind our way down a cobblestone street past biergartens and taverns. Ana is killing it in her red heels. She grabs my hand to keep from getting separated in the throngs spilling out from the pubs. She leads me down a questionably uneven stone stairway. We enter a well lit brick and stone bunker filled with traditional German music rife with accordion and harmonica. Long wooden tables with plank benches invite patrons to have a seat and to soak up the atmosphere. Gone are the college-age tourists that flank the alley above us. This is the type of place where the people of Frankfurt come to relax.
A barmaid brings us a stone pitcher of drink and two pint glasses. The pint glasses are made of a simple cut glass pattern that reflects the golden ale that Ana pours for us. The drink is darker than Chardonnay but lighter than beer.
“It’s apfelwein,” Ana explains. “It’s an apple cider that the tavern brews right here.” We raise our glasses and clink before taking sips. We keep eye contact to gage each other’s reaction.
“Tart,” I say.
Ana takes another sip, “I like it. It’s different.” She smiles. And just like that nightlife Anastasia and I enjoy our first apfelwein together.
“How did you know about this place?”
“I’m still in a group chat from my semester in London. I put out the word that I was looking for something to do in Frankfurt. Someone responded that we should come here.”
“And here we are,” I laugh. God, she is so beautiful when she is relaxed. “Do you always avoid tourist traps when you travel?”
Ana shakes her head. “Not always. I like to do the big stuff, too, like museums and historical stuff. I mean, there’s a reason that stuff is popular. I never really traveled before my semester in London. Some of my best memories are from doing the things that typical Londoners do, like visiting little parks, finding local book shops, eating from food trucks. Those are the things that made me fall in love with traveling.” She gets a glassy look in her eyes as she runs through her memories. I find her to be a fascinating creature.
“Do you travel a lot now?” I want to know everything there is to know about Ms. Steele.
“Not as much as I would like to. Thomas’s family was so great taking me on tons of weekend excursions while we were in London and inviting me to Taipei, of course. Other than that, I haven’t really had much of a chance. Up until now, my resources all went towards finishing my degree. How about you? You seem well traveled.”
I nod and take another sip of my apfelwein. The taste is growing on me. “Growing up, my parents took us on vacations to some cool places. Of course, I travel a great deal for work, but that’s different.”
“How so?”
“Usually, I don’t get to see much on work trips. It’s the hotel and meetings. Every now and then I’ll get the opportunity to eat in a local restaurant, but other than that I never get to explore the places that I go.”
Ana frowns for a second. She refills my cider. We drink and enjoy the ambiance. With Ana, silence is comfortable. I enjoy watching her as she soaks up the merriment all around us.
An older gentleman comes by to invite Ana to dance. He pulls her to a cleared spot and teaches her some sort of silly dance that looks like a cross between a polka and the chicken dance. Soon, other locals get up to join them. I pull out my phone to make a video of Ana. She is linked into a big circle formation. The dancers go right and left with kicks and whoops in time to the traditional beer hall music. Ana tries her best to follow along. I capture a stunning shot of her. Her eyes twinkle in delight and her mouth is open in the laughter that accompanies pure glee. She has her face turned to one side as she is dancing in time with the group. The picture focuses on her face. Everything around her is a blurry representation of the lights and movement of the tavern. The picture could be on an advert for a German holiday. It is perfect. She is perfect.
After another apfelwein, Ana manages to pull me up to the dance floor. The locals have a blast teaching us their dances. It feels like a square dance with a distinctly German flare. At some point, Ana gets hot and sheds her red blazer. Her white tank top clings to her curves. A little bit later, she piles her long brown curls in a messy bun on top of her head. The gas light from the wall sconces glitters across her sweaty neck. I will the bulge in my pants to settle down. I find myself once again wondering what type of lingerie she is wearing. Her tank top is thick enough to hide all but a faint silhouette of her bra. Is it lace? Do her panties match? I mentally slap myself. Don’t fuck the staff, Grey.
After hours of dancing and laughing and drinking, Ana taps her watch and signals that it is time to wrap up our night. I pay the tab and we head up the stairs into the refreshingly cool night air. Ana links my arm for support. She isn’t wobbling yet, but I can tell she is working to navigate the cobblestones.
“Did you have fun?”
“Absolutely!” She giggles with enthusiasm. “How about you, Grey?”
“The most. This is turning out to be quite the business trip,” I laugh.
“You know what they say, all work and no play, makes for a dull Mr. Grey,” she laughs at her little rhyme.
We exit the alley and wait on the sidewalk for Taylor to arrive. A large group passes us. Ana gets nudged and loses her balance. Before she can go down, I catch her around the waist. Instinctively, I pull her upright until our chests are pressed together. In her heels, Ana’s lips meet my chin. We stand like this, pressed together. I can’t help myself, I tilt my lips to hers. Just as we are about to kiss, Taylor pulls up and the moment is gone.
We climb into the car. I think about what almost happened on the street corner. Did Ana want me to kiss her? She is unlike any woman I have ever met. She is naturally stunning, self-assured, and does not come at me like a horny toad. She is easy to be around, light without being overly flirty. Everything about her says she is enjoying herself without trying. With Ana, I am enjoying myself. Gone is tense, regimented billionaire businessman Mr. Grey. I feel like a regular twenty-seven-year-old out with a friend.
Ana leans back in her seat. She closes her eyes and gives a little hum of contentment.
“Relaxed?” I ask her.
“I will be when I get these shoes off,” she giggles.
I suppress the urge to pull her feet into my lap for a massage. I have to remember that she is my assistant. I don’t want to put her in any situation that makes her uncomfortable or pressures her. The last thing that I need to do is misread her and lose a great assistant. I tuck my feelings away. I vow to keep things professional for her sake. Christ Grey, she’s a twenty-one-year-old college grad just starting her first real job. She doesn’t need her older boss chasing her skirt around his desk like some creepy stereotype.
Taylor clears his throat, “Sir, we have arrived back at the hotel.” Ana perks up. He opens her door and I follow her out of the SUV. She links my arm and we walk to the elevator. I take it as a good sign that she doesn’t take off her shoes before the lift arrives. I see her onto her elevator. The doors close before I can muster any sort of good byet. I head around the corner where Taylor has my elevator waiting. When the door to my suite clicks shut, I feel a sudden pang of emptiness wash over me.
I take a quick shower and arrange for an early morning run with Taylor. I need to work through some of this unsettled energy that lingers after our night. Just as I place my cell on the charger, the hotel phone rings on the nightstand. That’s odd.
“Hello?”
“Christian?”
“Anastasia, is something wrong?” I get out of bed and begin to look for some clothes to throw on.
“No,” she giggles. I sit down. “I just didn’t really get a chance to say good night and to thank you for tonight. I, um, guess now I’ve said it so, um…” She sounds nervous. I picture her biting her lower lip.
“I had a lot of fun. I’m glad you found the tavern…”
“And the apfelwein,” she adds, sounding more like herself.
“And the apfelwein,” I smile. “You are most welcome. Good night, Ana. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Christian,” she whispers. Neither of us hang up. After a pause of silence I hear the phone click on her end. Did she want to say something else? I lie down on the bed unable to fall asleep. I replay the night in the tavern over and over. I’m feeling something new and different. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.
Let's Go to Baden-Baden
By lunch time on our second day in Frankfurt, Ana and I have done all that we can to prepare for our meetings. Ana checks to see if the German team can meet with us earlier than planned. Her laptop pings with an incoming email.
“It looks like the Germans can meet with us tomorrow, first thing,” she says while focusing on the message that she is reading. “There is just one thing.”
I give her my full attention.
“The executive leadership is wrapping up a big meeting in Baden-Baden. If we want to meet with them tomorrow, we will need to go there. Otherwise, we can keep our meetings as originally scheduled.” Ana looks over her laptop to me, awaiting direction. Hum, if we keep the meetings as originally scheduled, I will get another day and a half alone with Ana in Frankfurt.
“What’s in Baden-Baden?” I inquire.
Ana starts typing on her computer. “It looks like there is some sort of high rolling casino there. There is a fancy-schmancy hotel and a spa.” She turns her computer so I can scroll through what she found.
I give her my Cheshire grin. “Let’s go to Baden-Baden.”
I keep my suite in Frankfurt. Ana brings her luggage up to my room. I offer for her to leave what she won’t need here. She gets to work in one of the spare rooms, repacking for our excursion.
“Christian,” she calls. I stroll to the door of the spare room.
“I’m not sure that I brought anything fancy enough for dinner tonight.” She holds up two dresses for me to see. “What do you think? The website made it seem like the casino and restaurant are pretty dressy.”
Normally, I wouldn’t give a thought to what an assistant is wearing to dinner, but I see her point. “Hum,” I tap my lip. “Maybe we can find something for you in one of the shops?”
Ana wrinkles her face.
“Do you not like shopping?”
She smiles, “No, I don’t mind it in small doses. It’s just that I’m not very good at picking things out. My roommate, Kate, usually goes along to style me.” She blushes with her admission. So freaking cute.
“Let me call downstairs. Maybe the hotel has a personal shopper they work with.”
An hour and a half later a trio arrives to my suite with a rolling wardrobe of garment bags and boxes. Ana herds them into the spare room to begin trying on the items. I remain at the dining table answering emails. A short time later, the door to the spare room opens and out go the stylists.
“That was quick. Did you find something?”
Ana nods her head.
“They had good taste. The first outfit was spot on. They brought the perfect shoes and boom, I’m done,” she claps her hands.
“That was easy. My sister would have wanted to try on everything and then pick out several options.”
“Not me. I’m bad for picking out an outfit, but once it’s on I know what I like.” She shrugs.
“Do I get to see what you picked out?”
“Uh uhn,” she wiggles her finger. “No sneak peeks. You’ll have to wait until tonight,” she bosses.
Now that is something Mia would say. “It’s a date,” I reply and inwardly cringe at my choice of words. She doesn’t seem to take notice.
“A date it is. Let’s get on the road. These casinos aren’t going to play themselves,” she sings.
On cue, a bellhop turns up to collect our overnight bags. Ana nearly skips to the elevator. It looks like our excursion has put Ms. Steele in quite the good mood.
We head south along the Rhine. The scenery is picturesque, but both Ana and I spend the time answering emails. Every now and again, Ana pauses to ask my preference before she responds. She is incredibly adept at handling my day-to-day matters. The more that we work together, the more in tune she is with how I want her to handle various business concerns. Was Andrea this quick of a study when she came aboard? The two hours pass quickly. Before long, hotel doormen are opening our doors and assisting Taylor with the bags.
As per the usual with ultra luxe hotels, there is no check in counter. We are shown to plush chairs in front of a belle epoque-style desk. The clerk reviews our reservation and has keys ready for us. She arranges our preference for dinner accommodations. Soon another employee appears to show us to our rooms. We take a card access-only elevator to an over-sized suite decorated in the opulence of Versailles. It’s good to be me.
Ana looks at the clerk with confusion. “Should I grab my bags?”
“I’m sorry ma’am?” He replies with a thick accent.
“My bags, they came to Mr. Grey’s room. Should I bring them to my room?”
I jump in to help the clearly confused employee, “Our reservation is for a suite and two executive-level rooms. The suite is for me, and the rooms are for my security and my assistant.” When I say it like this, I kind of sound like an entitled prick traveling with an entourage.
The clerk refers to the tablet he is holding. After a bit of swiping, he walks over to the room phone and proceeds to have a hushed conversation in German.
“My apologies, Mr. Grey. There has been a miscommunication with your reservation. Instead of one suite and two extra rooms, it is booked as one room and a suite with two bedrooms. Unfortunately, the hotel is, how do you say, without further vacancies this evening.”
“Are you saying you don’t have a room for Ms. Steele?” I ask in my CEO voice.
“That is correct, sir,” the clerk rocks back on his heels with his best ‘sorry, not sorry’ face. I take a breath before I begin to annihilate the messenger. Ana places her petite hand on my arm and it calms me.
Turning to the hotel employee she says, “This is unfortunate. For now, this room will be adequate.”
She hands him some perfectly folded currency and walks him to the door.
“I trust that you will escalate this situation to your upper-level management to quickly find a satisfactory resolution.” She gives him a sweet smile that is laced with just a tinge of ’don’t fuck with me’ before shutting the door behind him. Christ, don’t-fuck-with-me Ana is just as hot as nightlife Anastasia. Down boy.
“Ana, I can get Taylor to give you his room. He can sleep in the suite with me. He won’t mind.”
Ana gives a little hum and taps her chin. “Let’s see what the hotel comes up with. I have a feeling that when management becomes aware of just who’s reservation they flubbed, they will be able to find me a room post haste. In the meantime, I can get ready in your spare room. Let Taylor have some down time,” she offers.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable…”
“Shut it, Grey,” she says while making a mouth closing gesture with her fingers. “I don’t need a big fancy room to get ready. I’m fine slumming it here in the dumpster suite.”
Ana grabs her bags and shuts herself away in the spare room to begin getting ready. I head down to the hotel gym for my second workout of the day. I work the circuit and use the treadmill. I manage to escape before any of the circling trophy wives in spandex manage to go in for the kill. It’s just a face, ladies.
I grab a shower and put on my tux. I’m popping the top on a bottle of champagne so nice that it even impresses me when I hear a cough behind me. I turn around and Holy Mother of All Things Pure, Ana is leaning against the doorway. Her arms are crossed as are her ankles. She gives me a smile and a wink and makes her way to me.
“For me?” She asks as she takes the flute from my hand.
“Ana, you look, just…wow…” I'm at a loss for words.
She is wearing a strapless, silk minidress with a sweetheart neckline and ruching all the way to the hem. The dress is black with bright abstract brush strokes of bright pinks and blues. A wide black belt cinches her waist and is held together by a large rhinestone brooch in the front. She is wearing 6-inch black, silk heels with pointed toes and the telltale red soles that make her legs go on for days. She has several gold bangles on her wrist. Her hair is curled and swept into a side knot that shows off gold hoop earrings. Wearing more makeup than usual, Ana has smoky eyes and dark pink stained lips that match her perfectly painted fingernails. She is carrying a black envelope clutch. Yep, nightlife Anastasia is my favorite look.
Regaining my wits, “You weren’t kidding. You didn’t need to try on anything else. This dress was made for you.” I gesture down her body.
Ana blushes a bit, clinks my glass, and takes a long sip of her champagne, “Why thank you, Mr. Grey. And let me add that you look quite dapper, yourself.” I refill our glasses and motion towards the balcony. We step out to enjoy our champagne and the twinkling lights of Baden-Baden after dark. Ana is quieter than usual.
“What’s on your mind?”
She shakes her head and smiles at me, “Nothing, really. I was just trying to soak up this moment. I’ve worked for GEH barely a month, and here I am. Dressed to the nines with my debonair boss, in Germany, sipping this crazy good champagne, am I right?” She pauses to take a sip. I laugh in agreement.
“I’m getting ready to eat at a restaurant so fancy that they don’t put prices on the menu. Who doesn’t put prices on the whole menu? That’s so boujie!” She lets out a giggle. “After what I am hoping will be one of the top three meals of my life, I get to watch my insanely rich boss lose money while he gambles with some of the wealthiest people in the world. I get to do all of this while wearing this dress and these shoes,” she gestures to herself.
“And you want to know what the best part is? This is my job! How lucky am I?!” She sings, high on the moment.
I pause. Never once in all of my travels have I stopped to appreciate the moment. Never once have I asked ‘how lucky am I’.
We are now both looking out, resting our forearms on the railing. I nudge her shoulder. “You are right, we are very..” I give her a smile that she returns. She takes my empty glass from me and heads back inside, “Come on Grey, let’s go murder the fun in Baden-Baden!” How can I not follow such an enticing invitation?
Ana was right. We eat one of the best meals of our lives. More familiar with French cuisine, I admit to Ana that I don’t know what half of the things are on the menu. She tells me to order the wine and she orders our food. To my delight, she is an adventurous eater. She tries everything on both of our plates and insists that I do the same.
“That is so good,” I moan pointing my fork at some sausage kind of something on her plate.
“I know, right!” She turns her plate to make it easier for me to fork another bite.
“How did you know what to order?”
Ana blushes, “I didn’t. I just picked a letter for each of us and ordered the item that had the most of that letter in its name.”
I bellow with laughter, “What was my letter?”
“Easy, you got the ‘G’ food.”
“And what letter did you pick?”
”At first I picked S for Steele, but everything had a ton of S’s in it. So I changed to an R.”
“Why R?”
“It’s my middle initial. My middle name is Rose.”
How pretty, just like you. “Well then, let’s go with my middle initial for dessert.”
She picks up the dessert list, “T, right? What does that stand for?”
“Trevelyan, it’s my mother’s maiden name.” I snatch the menu from her to make sure I approve of the T dessert. She raises an eyebrow and sticks out her hand. I return the menu.
“How did you pick the wine?” she asks.
I open the wine list and set it on the table so we both can see. I show her how to tell the types of grapes in each listing. I explain which types I prefer paired together. She leans close and studies the listings. She picks out a few based on my preferences. She is a quick study. Just then, a gentleman in a well tailored suit and a hotel name tag, approaches our table.
“Mister Grey?” He inquires. I nod. “I am Frederic Von Waggenen, the general manager of the hotel.” We shake hands and I introduce Ana. “I have been made aware of the errors regarding your reservations this evening.” I steeple my fingers and give him my best ‘you better fix this’ face.
“Unfortunately, we have been unable to find a second room for your assistant. We have, however, managed to procure Ms. Steele a room at a nearby hotel which will be of no charge to you as an apology for your inconvenience.” Unacceptable, Ana will not be staying at another hotel!
Before I can begin to express my dissatisfaction with his suggestion, Ana politely asks him for the other hotel’s name. She starts typing away on her phone. She raises an eyebrow while scrolling down her screen. I can tell Mr. Van Wiggles or whatever his name is is beginning to get a bit nervous.
Ana turns her beautiful doe eyes towards Van Wiggles, with the sweetest of voices, she turns the screen to him. “Is this the correct listing?”
He nods but before he can add any fluff to the nut, Ana speaks again. “Are you sure? Because this hotel appears to be over an hour drive from here. The listing says it is a three-star establishment. That can’t be correct. We booked rooms at a four-star hotel. Unless your rating has recently been lowered..?” Ana questions without a drop of animosity.
“No, Ms. Steele, we are still a four-star hotel, uhh…” Van Wiggles rubs his neck and appears lost to explain his poor attempt at service recovery.
Ana sets her phone down on the table. In her still sweet voice, she flashes her toothpaste commercial smile and says, “I assure you that Mr. Grey expects his assistant to be available more readily than an hour away. He finds your offer of another hotel unacceptable. Furthermore, Mr. Grey does not appreciate your offer of three-star lodging when he booked four-star.”
Van Wiggles goes to speak, but Ana silences him with her hand. “For tonight, I will stay in the spare room of Mr. Grey’s suite. As you can imagine, Mr. Grey would never ask a female employee to share accommodations with a male superior. This puts him in quite an uncomfortable position.” Ana silences Van Wiggles a second time.
“That will be all, Frederic.” She dismisses the manager without further ado.
“Fuuccck, Ms. Steele, you just ripped him to shreds without batting an eyelash. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“It’s my super power. I’ve mastered the disappointed mother act,” she replies.
We decide against dessert, our dinner effectively over after Van Wiggles’ interruption. We exit the restaurant and make our way to the casino. I lead Ana past the slots and on into the smaller rooms with higher stakes. Taylor meets us by a roulette table.
“I’ve got your chips, sir,” he hands me a stack of colored tokens that I slide into my pocket.
Ana is already at the edge of the roulette table, watching the wheel spin as people begin placing their bets. When the wheel lands on 19, a grey-haired man and a woman not much older than Ana cheer loudly. The older man grabs his date by the ass and gives her a long, NSFW kiss. Ana’s eyes grow wider.
“I thought that was his daughter,” she whispers.
“Nope, that’s probably wife number four or the woman he’s cheating on wife number three with,” I whisper in her ear. I am standing behind Ana, I let my nose linger by her cheek for a few seconds.
“Here, place a bet,” I hand Ana a chip. She makes a safe bet, placing the chip on red. It’s lower stakes than picking a number but better odds of winning. When the ball lands on red, Ana does a cute little wiggle with her hips. Down, boy, I tell the throb behind my zipper.
When Ana tries to return her bet and her winnings to me, I tell her to use them to place more bets.
Ana is having just as much fun watching as she is betting. We walk from room to room watching dice and card games.
“Does Taylor have to follow us? There are security guys everywhere. Can’t he have the night off?”
“Ana, the chips in my pocket alone make me a target.”
Ana furrows her brow. “How much do you have on you, in chips, right now?”
I raise my eyebrow at the blackjack dealer to signal for him to deal me in. “Let’s put it this way. You just won twenty-five thousand at the wheel.”
Ana squeaks and swallows. She looks around the room to see if anyone is listening.
“Are you telling me that I have twenty-five thousand dollars in my purse right now?” There is a slight tremble to her whisper.
“No, you have fifty thousand and it’s euros, not dollars. You bet twenty-five and won twenty five so now you have fifty.” I press her back so she is up to the table beside me. I’m glad that the chips are color coded. There is no need for Ana to know that I just put down one hundred thousand on a hand of blackjack.
Ana watches me play a few hands of cards. I win more than I lose. Not wanting her to get bored, I order us drinks and we watch some more games of chance. Ana loves it when someone wins big at a table. She cheers as loud as the actual winners. An older gentleman in a kilt asks Ana to blow on his dice for luck. When he wins seven hundred thousand, he stuns her with a kiss right on her lips. Ana looks flustered but laughs it off when the man kisses everyone within grabbing distance. She refuses to take any of his winnings when he tries to pay her for the good luck she brought him.
I talk Ana into playing craps. She has me blow on her dice and she wins big. The whole table cheers. She jumps up and down and throws her arms around my neck. Before I know it she is pressing her lips to mine. Not one to lose an opportunity, I wrap an arm around her waist and raise a hand to her cheek, prolonging the kiss. She moans and her lips part. I slide my tongue into her warmth and steal a taste of heaven before we pull apart. Ana pauses for a moment and stares right through to my soul. Fuuuuuucccckkkk, Anastasia Steele owns me.
We turn our attention back to the game in front of us. Ana seems dazed and stuck inside her head. She decides to take her winnings while ahead. We wander the games, but Ana never re-engages in what’s going on around us.
“Are you ready to call it a night?” I ask her.
She gives me a nod. I lead her out of the casino and over to our elevator. Taylor swipes us aboard and sees us to our suite before retiring to his. I can’t decide if Ana is tired or drunk or in shock. Maybe I was presumptuous taking our kiss up a level? I run my hands through my hair at a loss as to what to do next. Ana heads for the spare bedroom. I don’t want her to go but I don’t know what to say. As she reaches the door, she turns to me.
“Christian, did I screw things up tonight?”
“What do you mean?” I take a step towards her.
“When I kissed you, did I screw things up? This trip has been so great and I really like working for you. Did I mess it all up?”
“No,” I say. Taking another step towards her. “We just got caught up in the moment, that’s all.” I try to soothe her worries. She nods in agreement and turns to go back into her room.
“Good night,” she says over her shoulder.
“Good night,” I turn and stride towards my room.
“No,” I hear behind me. I turn to see Ana is back in the living room. She is looking at me with glassy eyes and speaks with a wavering voice. “I wasn’t caught up in the moment.”
I open my mouth to say what I don’t know, but she raises her hand to continue.
“It wasn’t a mistake, Christian,” she shakes her head and takes another step towards me. “I wanted to kiss you in the casino. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”
“Yeah?” I cock an eyebrow and take the last step between us.
She nods her head and blushes. I raise my hand to her cheek. “Would you like to kiss me again?” I whisper.
“Very much,” she whispers back. I use my thumb to pull her lip out from her teeth. Very slowly, I bring my lips to hers for a soft, slow kiss.
Breaking the kiss, I whisper, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, too.” She raises her hand to my neck and pulls me down for another kiss.
Every cell in my body is screaming at me to send out for condoms and to ravage Ms. Steele’s body. Only, I hold myself at bay. Taking a move from her play book, I work to be present in the moment. I memorize her lips and then her mouth. I commit her taste to memory. I learn every whimper and moan that she makes. God, this must be heaven.
We kiss for a long time. It could be minutes or maybe hours. We cling to each other in the living room, savoring each other in this moment.
Ana is the first to pull apart. “We should get some sleep.” I nod yes but my heart screams no. She leans on me to take her heels off. She gives me one more kiss and another “good night.” She turns and walks back to her room, closing the door behind her.
I contemplate taking care of business on my own but opt for a cool shower. I slip on a clean pair of boxer briefs and get in my bed. I lie awake remembering the bliss that just happened in the living room.
I hear a tapping on my door. “Christian, are you still awake?”
In two strides I am opening the door.
“My zipper, it’s stuck,” Ana explains with embarrassment. Praise be the zipper gods.
I walk her into my bathroom. I sit on the edge of the soaking tub. She lifts her arm to expose the side zipper. I try but can’t get the pull to make any movement. We spend a ridiculously long time trying to get Ana out of her dress. She Googles stuck zippers. I try tweezers and then a safety pin. I rub bar soap along the teeth. We laugh a lot but make no progress with the zipper.
“I think we need scissors.”
“No, I love this dress.”
“I know. It looks amazing on you.” We start kissing again. Me in my underwear, Ana in her dress. This time, I pull us apart. “I’m texting Taylor. He can get us scissors.” I leave in search of my phone.
I throw on sweats and a tee. I’m pretty sure cutting Ana out of her dress is going to give me serious wood. I return to Ana.
“Champagne and scissors?” She laughs.
“I thought the drink might help with the pain of destroying such a great dress.”
“Maybe,” she giggles and downs her glass. She takes a sip straight from the bottle.
“I always wanted to do that,”
“Drink straight from the bottle?”
“Yep”
“Was it all that you hoped for?”
“No, it felt like I was going to spill it.”
I laugh. I’m on my knees getting ready to slice open her dress. I start at the hem and attempt to work north. After several minutes, I have made little progress.
“These scissors are shit.” I toss the dull fuckers on to the counter.
“What now?” Ana is back to drinking from her flute.
“I could rip it?” I down my own glass of bubbly. She refills for me.
“Why, Mr. Grey,” Ana teases in her best Marilyn Monroe voice. “How scandalous!”
“I’ll show you scandal,” I challenge. I grab the seam from the bottom and pull it apart with a great deal of strength. This is the Fort Knox of dresses. I put more muscle into it. A loud rip sounds and suddenly the dress flies away from her body.
We are both caught by surprise. At first, I think Ana is going to try to cover herself with her hands. Instead, she rolls her shoulders back and says, “Well done, Grey.” She gives me a wink, grabs her glass, and walks towards the door.
I finally get to see her lingerie. It. Is. Spectacular. She leaves me, kneeling on the bathroom floor, speechless.
I’m up and after my minx like a hungry cheetah. I catch her by the flawless skin of her bare waist before she makes it out of my bedroom. She throws her head back with raucous laughter. I twirl her towards me until her torso presses against me. There is no hiding my arousal pressing into the porcelain skin above her lacy black boy briefs. We both take a big breath in unison. The synchrony of it brings intimacy to the moment.
We get lost in each other’s eyes, breathing together, standing still. With unspoken agreement, Ana presses up on her tippy toes as my head tilts to meet her. Our lips meet for a slow, unrushed kiss. Our lips punctuate the connection that started the moment we left Seattle. I raise my hand to her neck as hers slides over my shoulder and to the base of my head. I explore her lips as she sucks and nips at my lips. Her fingertips massage my neck, pulling me into her sweetness just as my other hand finds the small of her back.
Whether from hesitation or contentment, neither Ana nor I push the other further. We finally break apart to catch our breath. I tilt Ana’s chin up encouraging her to meet my eyes.
“That was nice,” she says all breathy and hot.
“Very nice,” I agree.
“Come,” I say grabbing her hand and leading her into the living room. I sit in an over-sized chair by the fireplace and pull her into my lap. I wrap my hands around her tiny waist. She rests her cheek against my bare chest.
“Is this ok?” She inquires. “Me touching you?”
I cock my head in question.
“I’ve noticed you don’t really like people touching your chest. You step back whenever anyone’s hand gets too close.”
“Usually, I don’t let anyone touch me here,” I motion to my no touch zones. “You touched me in Taipei, when you were drunk. It didn’t bother me. I kind of liked it.”
She hums in contentment, “Good, ‘cause I kind of like it, too.”
She takes her hand that is on my waist and begins to slide it towards my chest. She looks at me for permission. I give her a nod. Her touch is so light. It feels like a feather.
“What do you want, Anastasia?”
She looks into my eyes but doesn’t answer.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything that you don’t want to do. You are an excellent assistant. The last thing that I want is to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Ana gives me another sweet hum but says nothing. I lift her body so that I can see her face.
“For this to work, you have to tell me what you want.”
“I want you. I want all of you,” she whispers. Her blue eyes bore directly into my soul.
Suddenly, Ana turns to straddle me. Her apex grinds into my rock hard arousal. Only my boxer briefs and the delicate lace of her panties separate us. Her mouth crashes into mine. She devours my lips. Her plump lips grant me access. As I relish her sweet taste, she begins to chase more friction between us. Her moisture soaks through to my cock. Oh, sweet gods, what have I done to deserve such heavenly bliss? Soon we are both dripping with her nectar. The intensity is climbing beyond anything I have imagined. My sweet, funny Ana is morphing into a blazing siren from which I seek no asylum. She wraps her legs around my waist.
“Bedroom, Christian. Take me to your bedroom,” she pants. Her voice echoes my own desperation.
I hold onto her perfect ass and lift her from the couch. With long strides, we tumble together onto the silk linens. We roll so that she is on top, straddling my cock, sitting on top of my reclined body. Ana reaches behind herself and unclasps her strapless bra. Oh to all things holy, her breasts are perfect. I place my hands on her waist letting her set the pace. She looks down at me with a soft, disarming smile.
“Christian, I want you…”
I rise to meet her. “My god, I am a lucky son of a bitch.”
She pulls me in for a searing kiss.
Suddenly we are lying down again, I am on top kissing her neck, kissing her chest, nipping at her perfect raspberry nipples, eliciting the sexiest sounds. She is raking her fingers through my hair. Her fingernails tease my scalp. I kiss lower down her body. Her abs are taught. She arches her back to press closer to me. Ana whispers my name as though I am a god. My nose reaches her panty line. I look up for permission to explore further. Ana gives me a nod
I reach up and hook my fingers in the waist of her lace panties. I pull them down. Her intoxicating scent swirls thick around me. My god what is this heaven that I have found?
Like a magnet, my face returns to that warm place between her thighs. She is completely waxed, soft and warm and so inviting.
My nose is the first part of me to touch her. I run my nose up through her folds and inhale. Her nectar drenches me, tempting me, begging for me to steal a taste. My tongue follows the same path. Is this nirvana? My chin drips with her arousal. Anastasia Steele is the type of woman men fight wars for.
My tongue finds her clit. I circle and swirl around her swollen nub. Licking and sucking, I play her sensitive spot like a fine violin. Soon, my fingers become jealous and begin to strum their own tune. First one finger, then another enters into her dark, wet heaven. They move in a come hither motion inviting her pleasure to take first chair of the symphony that I conduct. In and out, my fingers work her pussy as my tongue swirls harder, worshiping at her altar.
Ana’s moans play tympany, setting the tempo as she rises to her crescendo. I splay my fingers across her belly, holding her captive to my unrelenting siege upon her shrine. Ana’s sounds grow louder. She begins to chant my name in veneration as her muscles clench around my fingers. She takes a deep breath and lets out a primal moan. Her hands push the back of my head into her apex with unrelenting pressure. My mouth envelopes her clit and I suck like a goddamn Hoover, wringing every drop of pleasure from her. Her nectar pours down to coat my chin. I don’t stop until her muscles relax and she melts into a panting puddle of satiated bliss.
I slide up her sweat glistening torso like a cobra until we are nose to nose, panting in sync.
“Wow,” she says with a Cheshire smile.
“Yeah,” I grin. “Wow.”
I kiss her and give her a taste of her own pleasure. She sucks my lips and licks my chin. Damn if that isn’t the hottest thing yet. I pepper her face with butterfly kisses before rolling on to my side, my head propped on my elbow, my front presses into her side. My fingers trace the contours of her perfect body.
“Are these tears?” I wipe her cheek with my thumb. She gives me a belly laugh and turns her head so that we are nose to nose again.
“Yes. I think I just had a religious experience,” she laughs.
I wrap my hand around her waist and roll her hips so that she is facing me.
“Let me worship at your altar, goddess,” I kiss from her mouth to her ear and down her neck.
“I don’t suppose that you are on the pill?” I nuzzle the spot where her neck meets her shoulder.
“Nooooo,” she groans disappointedly.
I reach over her to grab my phone from the bedside table. She snatches it from my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending Taylor out for condoms,” I return to kissing her clavicle.
“Absolutely not,” she squeals. “I could never look him in the face again.”
“He’s a professional. He won’t make it weird,” I try to distract her with kisses but she tosses the phone out of reach.
“I see him at work everyday, Christian. Let the poor man be.”
“Then I’ll call Van Wiggles. It’s his fault that you got stuck in my room.”
“Sounds like he deserves a reward,” she kisses me.
“Fine, I’ll give him a big tip when he delivers the condoms.”
I roll on top of her, pinning her down. I grab the receiver for the hotel phone. She squeals and covers her face with her hands to hide her crimson blush. I enjoy making her squirm when I ask for the hotel’s general manager and request condoms, emphasizing extra-large. To torture Ana, I ask Van Wiggles to hold while I very clearly ask Ana if she thinks that we will need anything else. She squeals a ‘no’ and swats at me. I thoroughly delight in her embarrassment. I request chocolate covered strawberries and champagne before disconnecting.
“Wait, don’t go,” I plead when Ana gets out of bed and heads for the living room.
“I have to go pee and then I’m going to hide until after your delivery arrives,” she wags her finger at me. I watch her silhouette disappear out of my room. I fucking love how comfortable she is with her naked body in front of me. Wait, who else has seen her like this? I’ll kill the fuckers.
I throw on my sweat pants and grab several hundred for the tip. Van Wiggles must be sending out for magnums, because it feels like forever before room service arrives with my order. I instruct the waiter to set up the champagne and strawberries in my bedroom. Once he is gone, I knock on Ana’s door to let her know the coast is clear. The door swings open. I find my girl wearing a hotel robe, curled up asleep on her bed. She is so fucking cute. I grab a blanket from the closet and cover her. I crawl in and spoon her. The sex can wait. Ma’lady is exhausted. The heavenly scent of her hair lulls me to sleep.
Meeting the Germans
“Sir, Sir,” I hear Taylor’s voice from my cocoon. I am wrapped in giant flower petals and warm butterfly wings.
“SIR!”
I cannot stop my eyes from opening. I turn my head towards Taylor’s loud voice. A sweet little kitten mewls from within my nest of warmth. I give my head of security the stink eye.
“Sir, it is 7:25. Your first meeting starts in thirty-five minutes.”
The silky kitten morphs into a bed-headed brunette who pops up looking like I feel - discombobulated and put out.
“Fuck! Christian, we overslept,” the kitten moans. What in the holy hell is this dream?
Blinking several times, I realize that I am in Ana’s room in the suite at the casino. Taylor is standing at the door looking in at Ana in her robe and me in my sweatpants cuddled in her bed.
In two long strides, I slam the door in Taylor’s face. Grumpy kitten is for my eyes only. Taylor is paid well enough to get over it. Ana is standing at the foot of the bed, looking back and forth from her suitcase to the bathroom. She appears unable to logically sequence her morning routine. I step into her bathroom, start her shower, kiss her forehead, and head to my own bathroom to do the same.
Seventeen minutes later, we reconvene in the living room. Morning mess Ana has morphed into professional Ms. Steele. Her hair is crafted into a high pony with a tendril wrapped at the base to hide her hair tie. Her make-up is minimal and flawless. She is wearing a well tailored, navy skirt suit with a stem green silk blouse. She is wearing navy, patent Mary Jane heals and has her laptop and files tucked in an over-sized Louis Vuitton shoulder bag. Oh, fuck me…please let her stockings be thigh highs attached to a lace garter belt. Ms. Steele breaks character just long enough to take give me a once over and bite her lip before she is back to being all business. Taylor summons our elevator and we head down to rule the universe.
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