Grey #VisualRetelling #Grey1 #AU

Chapter 7 - Breakfast, Paperwork and Elevators

I hurry out of the shower, not worrying about shaving or drying myself too thoroughly. When I walk back into the bedroom with just a small towel round my waist, Anastasia is scrambling round frantically searching for her jeans, making it highly likely that my gut instinct that she would run is correct.

I'm not vain, but neither do I suffer from false modesty. I know I'm considered good looking by most people, and that I have a decent body that I take good care of. I also know this doesn't make me a beautiful person. It's just a shell, a façade, and I can't stand all the shallow people who swoon over my looks when they know nothing about the real me.

But in life you've got to use what you've been given, and I intend to use my physique and looks to try and entrap Anastasia under my sexual thrall, so that she will agree to become my submissive. That she is naïve and clearly not very experienced works to my advantage. There really is very little that I don't know about sex, having studied and practiced the subject in great detail since I was fifteen. I'm now an expert in sexual pleasure, sexual power and sexual control because I have such vast experience to draw on. What I don't know about fucking ain't worth knowing.

I'm surprised that Ana is up so quickly, having been virtually comatose just a short while ago. She looks shy, awkward and kind of gawky wearing just her T shirt with her long slim legs on show. She reminds me of Bambi somehow.

"If you're looking for your jeans, I've sent them to the laundry. They were spattered with your vomit," I inform her. "I sent Taylor out for another pair and some shoes. They're in the bag on the chair."

I'm thankful she didn't realize the bag was for her, or she may well have been dressed and out of the door before I could have stopped her.

I know that she's very aware of the fact that I'm right next to her, virtually naked, my muscular torso all wet and glistening from my shower. By her furious blush and erratic breathing I know that she's very affected by my close proximity and clearly having some pretty erotic thoughts. Naturally this pleases me, but I'm frustrated because I'd really love to know just exactly what those thoughts are. I don't somehow think they're anywhere near as filthy and kinky as your thoughts, Grey.

To hide her discomfort, she grabs the bag from me and quickly heads for the shower, muttering her thanks.

Once she's gone, I dry myself off. I quickly towel dry my hair, run my fingers through it and then leave it to do its own thing. I dress in my usual casual attire of white linen shirt and black jeans. I don't do color. I'm not a bright color kind of guy.

Ana is still in the shower when breakfast arrives, so I knock on the bathroom door to tell her.

She makes her appearance as I'm reading the newspaper, then panics about contacting her friend Kate.

"She knows you're here and still alive. I texted Elliot," I reassure her, and also confirm that, as expected, he did spent the night with Miss Kavanagh. I smile wryly to myself as I remember Elliot's text back to me.