Fifty Shades of Grey (book 1+ 2)

Chapter 20

He sets me down, and, taking my hand, leads me back into the bar. I feel weak, still drunk,

embarrassed, exhausted, mortified, and on some strange level absolutely off the scale thrilled. He's

clutching my hand - such a confusing array of emotions. I'll need at least a week to process them all.

It's noisy, crowded, and the music has started so there is a large crowd on the dance floor. Kate is not

at our table, and Jose has disappeared. Levi looks lost and forlorn on his own."Where's Kate?" I shout

at Levi above the noise. My head is beginning to pound in time to the thumping bass line of the music.

"Dancing," Levi shouts, and I can tell he's mad. He's eyeing Christian suspiciously.

I struggle into my black jacket and place my small shoulder bag over my head so it sits at my hip. I'm

ready to go, once I've seen Kate.

"She's on the dance floor," I touch Christian's arm and lean up and shout in his ear, brushing his hair

with my nose, smelling his clean, fresh smell. Oh my. All those forbidden, unfamiliar feelings that I have

tried to deny surface and run amok through my drained body. I flush, and somewhere deep, deep down

my muscles clench deliciously.

He rolls his eyes at me and takes my hand again and leads me to the bar. He's served immediately, no

waiting for Mr. Control-Freak Grey. Does everything come so easily to himI can't hear what he orders.

He hands me a very large glass of iced water.

"Drink," he shouts his order at me.

The moving lights are twisting and turning in time to the music casting strange colored light and

shadows all over the bar and the clientele. He's alternately green, blue, white, and a demonic red. He's

watching me intently. I take a tentative sip.

"All of it," he shouts.

He's so overbearing. He runs his hand through his unruly hair. He looks frustrated, angry. What is his

problemApart from a silly drunk girl ringing him in the middle of the night so he thinks she needs

rescuing. And it turns out she does from her over amorous friend. Then seeing her being violently ill at

his feet. Oh Ana... are you ever going to live this down My subconscious is figuratively tutting and

glaring at me over her half moon specs. I sway slightly, and he puts his hand on my shoulder to steady

me. I do as I'm told and drink the entire glass. It makes me feel queasy. Taking the glass from me, he

places it on the bar. I notice through a blur what he's wearing; a loose white linen shirt, snug jeans,

black Converse sneakers, and a dark pinstriped jacket. His shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and I see a

sprinkling of hair in the gap. In my groggy frame of mind, he looks yummy.

He takes my hand once more. Holy cow - he's leading me onto the dance floor. Shit.

I do not dance. He can sense my reluctance, and under the colored lights, I can see his amused,

slightly sardonic smile. He gives my hand a sharp tug, and I'm in his arms again, and he starts to move,

taking me with him. Boy, he can dance, and I can't believe that I'm following him step for step. Maybe

it's because I'm drunk that I can keep up. He's holding me tight against him, his body against mine... if

he wasn't clutching me so tightly, I'm sure I would swoon at his feet. In the back of my mind, my

mother's often-recited warning comes to me: Never trust a man who can dance.

He moves us through the crowded throng of dancers to the other side of the dance floor, and we are

beside Kate and Elliot, Christian's brother. The music is pounding away, loud and leery, outside and

inside my head. I gasp. Kate is making her moves. She's dancing her ass off, and she only ever does

that if she likes someone. Really likes someone. It means there'll be three of us for breakfast tomorrow NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

morning. Kate!

Christian leans over and shouts in Elliot's ear. I cannot hear what he says. Elliot is tall with wide

shoulders, curly blonde hair, and light, wickedly gleaming eyes. I can't tell the color under the pulsating

heat of the flashing lights. Elliot grins, and pulls Kate into his arms, where she is more than happy to

be... Kate! Even in my inebriated state, I am shocked. She's only just met him. She nods at whatever

Elliot says and grins at me and waves. Christian propels us off the dance floor in double quick time.

But I never got to talk to her. Is she okayI can see where things are heading for her and him. I need to

do the safe sex lecture. In the back of my mind, I hope she reads one of the posters on the back of the

toilet doors. My thoughts crash through my brain, fighting the drunk, fuzzy feeling. It's so warm in here,

so loud, so colorful - too bright. My head begins to swim, oh no... and I can feel the floor coming up to

meet my face or so it feels.

The last thing I hear before I pass out in Christian Grey's arms is his harsh epithet.

"Fuck!"

Chapter Five

It's very quiet. The light is muted. I am comfortable and warm, in this bed. Hmm... I open my eyes, and

for a moment, I'm tranquil and serene, enjoying the strange unfamiliar surroundings. I have no idea

where I am. The headboard behind me is in the shape of a massive sun. It's oddly familiar. The room is

large and airy and plushly furnished in browns and golds and beige. I have seen it before. WhereMy

befuddled brain struggles through its recent visual memories. Holy crap. I'm in the Heathman hotel... in

a suite. I have stood in a room similar to this with Kate. This looks bigger. Oh shit. I'm in Christian

Grey's suite. How did I get here?

Fractured memories of the previous night come slowly back to haunt me. The drinking, oh no the

drinking, the phone call, oh no the phone call, the vomiting, oh no the vomiting. Jose and then

Christian. Oh no. I cringe inwardly. I don't remember coming here.

I'm wearing my t-shirt, bra, and panties. No socks. No jeans. Holy shit.

I glance at the bedside table. On it is a glass of orange juice and two tablets. Advil.

Control freak that he is, he thinks of everything. I sit up and take the tablets. Actually, I don't feel that

bad, probably much better than I deserve. The orange juice tastes divine.

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