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“Did she say anything to Mrs. Jones?”

“Not much.”

“You can’t find her? What about her family?”

“They don’t know where she is. Neither does her husband.”

“Husband?” she exclaims.

“Yes.” That lying asshole. “She’s been married for about two years.”

“So she was with you while she was married?”

“No! Good God, no. She was with me nearly three years ago. Then she left and married this guy shortly afterward.” I told you, baby, I don’t share. I’ve only tangled with one married woman and that didn’t end well.

“So why is she trying to get your attention now?”

“I don’t know. All we’ve managed to find out is that she ran out on her husband about four months ago.”

Ana picks up a teaspoon and waves it as she talks. “Let me get this straight. She hasn’t been your submissive for three years?”

“About two and a half years.”

“And she wanted more.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t?”

“You know this.”

“So she left you.”

“Yes.”

“So why is she coming to you now?”

“I don’t know.” She wanted more, but I couldn’t give her that. Maybe she’s seen me with you?

“But you suspect—”

“I suspect it has something to do with you.” But I could be wrong.

Now can we go back to bed?

Ana studies me, surveying my chest. But I ignore her scrutiny and ask the question that’s been nagging me since she told me she’d seen Leila. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”

Ana has the grace to look guilty. “I forgot about her. You know, drinks after work, at the end of my first week. You turning up at the bar and your testosterone rush

I’d like to forget this now. Let’s go back to bed.

“Testosterone

“Yes. The pissing contest.”

“I’ll show you a testosterone rush.” My voice is low.

“Wouldn’t you rather have a cup of tea?” She offers me a cup.

about her. Come.” I hold out my hand. She sets the teacup back on the counter and puts her hand in mine.

Back in her bedroom, I slide my shirt over her head. “I like you wearing my clothes,” I whisper.

“I like wearing them. They smell of you.”

grasp her head between my hands and kiss her.

I want to make her forget about Leila.

I want to forget about Leila.

I pick her up and walk her to the concrete wall.

“Wrap your legs around me, baby,” I order.

WHEN I OPEN MY eyes the room is bathed

“Hi,” I respond, cautiously. Something is off. “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you.” She skims her hand down my

Whoa!

I grab her hand.

Surely she’s sore after yesterday.

She licks her lips and her guilty grin is replaced with a knowledgeable, carnal smile.

Maybe not.

Waking up beside Anastasia Steele has definite advantages. Rolling on top of her, I grab her hands and pin her to the bed as she wriggles beneath me. “I think you’re up to no good, Miss Steele.”

“I like being up to no good near you.”

She may as well be

“You do?” I give her a quick peck on the lips. She nods.

Oh, you beautiful girl. “Sex or breakfast?”

She tilts her hips to meet me and it takes all my self-control not to take what she’s offering straightaway.

No. Make her wait.

“Good choice.”

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