50 shades of grey book 2 free online

50 shades of grey book 2 free online

I discovered Fan Fiction in August Since then I have written my two fics and plan on doing at least one more. After that I remember he didn't want me to go, which was odd. Why would I stay when things had reached such an impasse? We were each skirting around our own issues - my fear of punishment, his fear of Turning on my side, I hug my pillow, filled with an overwhelming sadness. He thinks he doesn't deserve to be loved.

Why does he feel that way? Is it something to do with his upbringing? His birth mom, the crack whore? My thoughts plague me into the early hours until eventually I fall into a fitful, exhausted sleep.

The day drags and drags and Jack is unusually attentive. I suspect it's Kate's plum dress and the black high-heeled boots I've stolen from her closet, but I don't dwell on the thought. I resolve to go clothes shopping with my first paycheck. The dress is looser on me than it was, but I pretend not to notice.

Finally, it's five thirty, and I collect my jacket and purse, trying to quell my nerves. I'm going to see him! Not really. An ex-boyfriend. You've had a stellar first week, Ana. We should celebrate. Putting his hands in his pockets, he saunters through the double doors. I frown at his retreating back. Drinks with the boss, is that a good idea? I shake my head.

I have an evening of Christian Grey to get through first. How am I going to do this? I hurry into the restroom to make last-minute adjustments. In the large mirror on the wall, I take a long, hard look at my face. I am my usual pale self, dark circles round my too-large eyes.

I look gaunt, haunted. Jeez, I wish I knew how to use makeup. I apply some mascara and eyeliner and pinch my cheeks, hoping to bring some color their way.

Tidying my hair so that it hangs artfully down my back, I take a deep breath. This will have to do. Nervously I walk through the foyer with a smile and a wave to Claire at reception. I think she and I could become friends. Jack is talking to Elizabeth as I head for the doors.

Smiling broadly, he hurries over to open them for me. Outside on the curb, Taylor is waiting. He opens the rear door of the car. I glance hesitantly at Jack who has followed me out. He's looking toward the Audi SUV in dismay. I turn and climb into the back, and there he sits - Christian Grey - wearing his gray suit, no tie, his white shirt open at the collar.

His gray eyes are glowing. My mouth dries. He looks glorious except he's scowling at me. Oh no! Yes, it's nice to see you, too. Answer me. I had a yogurt at lunchtime. Oh - and a banana. Taylor slips into the driver's seat, starts the car, and pulls out into the traffic.

I glance up and Jack is waving at me, though how he can see me through the dark glass, I don't know. I wave back. Your last meal? Tell me. I groan in frustration, rolling my eyes heavenward, and Christian narrows his eyes. And for the first time in a long time, I want to laugh. I try hard to stifle the giggle that threatens to bubble up.

Christian's face softens as I struggle to keep a straight face, and I see a trace of a smile kiss his beautifully sculptured lips. He closes his eyes as fury and possibly regret, sweeps across his face. Please eat, Anastasia," he scolds.

I stare down at the knotted fingers in my lap. Why does he always make me feel like an errant child? He shifts and turns toward me. Well, I'm shit really I swallow. Oh no. Skin against skin. We need to talk. I've cried so much," I whisper, trying to keep my emotions in check "Oh, baby, no. He has his arms around me, and his nose is in my hair. I want to struggle out of his hold, to maintain some distance, but his arms are wrapped around me. He's pressing me to his chest. I melt.

Oh, this is where I want to be. I rest my head against him, and he kisses my hair repeatedly. This is home. He smells of linen, fabric softener, body wash, and my favorite smell - Christian.

For a moment, I allow myself the illusion that all will be well, and it soothes my ravaged soul. A few minutes later Taylor pulls to a stop at the curb, even though we're still in the city. Of course. Charlie Tango.

Taylor opens the door and I slide out. He gives me a warm, avuncular smile that makes me feel safe. I smile back. He looks quizzically at Taylor who stares impassively back at him, revealing nothing. I revel in the feel of his large hand and his long, skilled fingers curled around mine. I feel the familiar pull - I am drawn, Icarus to his sun. I have been burned already, and yet here I am again.

Reaching the elevators, he presses the call button. I peek up at him, and he's wearing his enigmatic half smile. As the doors open, he releases my hand and ushers me in. Inside are two dozen long-stemmed, white roses and a card.

I stare at the typed card, the hollow in my chest expanding. No doubt, his assistant sent this. Christian probably had very little to do with it. It's too painful to think about. I examine the roses - they are beautiful, and I can't bring myself to throw them in the trash. And so a pattern develops: wake, work, cry, sleep. Well, try to sleep. I can't even escape him in my dreams. Gray burning eyes, his lost look, his hair burnished and bright all haunt me. And the music I am careful to avoid it at all costs.

Even the jingles in commercials make me shudder. I have spoken to no one, not even my mother or Ray. I don't have the capacity for idle talk now. No, I want none of it. I have become my own island state. A ravaged, war-torn land where nothing grows and the horizons are bleak. Yes, that's me. I can interact impersonally at work, but that's it.

I am finding it difficult to eat. By Wednesday lunchtime, I manage a cup of yogurt, and it's the first thing I've eaten since Friday. I am surviving on a newfound tolerance for lattes and Diet Coke.

It's the caffeine that keeps me going, but it's making me anxious. Jack has started to hover over me, irritating me, asking me personal questions. What does he want? I'm polite, but I need to keep him at arm's length. I sit and begin trawling through a pile of correspondence addressed to him, and I'm pleased with the distraction of menial work.

My e-mail pings, and I quickly check to see who it's from. I note that tomorrow is the gallery opening for your friend's show, and I'm sure you've not had time to purchase a car, and it's a long drive. I would be more than happy to take you - should you wish. Tears swim in my eyes.

I hastily leave my desk and bolt to the restroom to escape into one of the stalls. Jose's show. I'd forgotten all about it, and I promised him I'd go. Shit, Christian is right; how am I going to get there? I clutch my forehead. Why hasn't Jose phoned? Author: E. James Fifty Shades 5.

Talk to her, Grey. Am I that obvious? Since when? Since she stripped me of all my armor and I discovered that I needed her. Fifty Shades Darker - Chapter 8.

Fifty Shades Darker - Chapter 9.

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