ful thinking about my father, but I’m sure he had nothing on Christian’s moods.

“Bob wants to take us out tonight for dinner. To his golf club.”

“Oh no! Bob’s started playing golf?” I scoff in disbelief.

“Tell me about it,” groans my mother, rolling her eyes.

After a light lunch back at the house, I start to unpack. I am going to treat myself to a si-

esta. My mother has disappeared to mold some candles or whatever she does with them,

and Bob is at work, so I have time to catch up on some sleep. I open the Mac and fire it up.

It’s two in the afternoon in Georgia, eleven in the morning in Seattle. I wonder if I have a

reply from Christian. Nervously, I log into the email program.

From:Christian Grey

Subject:Finally!

Date:May 31 2011 07:30

To:Anastasia Steele

Anastasia

I am annoyed that as soon as you put some distance between us, you communicate

openly and honestly with me. Why can’t you do that when we’re together?

Yes, I’m rich. Get used to it. Why shouldn’t I spend money on you? We’ve told your

father I’m your boyfriend, for heaven’s sake. Isn’t that what boyfriends do? As your Dom,

I would expect you to accept whatever I spend on you with no argument. Incidentally, tell

your mother too.

I don’t know how to answer your comment about feeling like a whore. I know that’s not

what you’ve written, but it’s what you imply. I don’t know what I can say or do to eradi-

cate these feelings. I’d like you to have the best of everything. I work exceptionally hard,

so I can spend my money as I see fit. I could buy you your heart’s desire, Anastasia, and

I want to. Call it redistribution of wealth if you will. Or simply know that I would not, could

not ever think of you in the way you described, and I’m angry that’s how you perceive

yourself. For such a bright, witty, beautiful young woman you have some real self-esteem

issues, and I have a half a mind to make an appointment for you with Dr. Flynn.

I apologize for frightening you. I find the thought of instilling fear in you abhorrent. Do

you really think I’d let you travel in the hold? I offered you my private jet for heaven’s

sake. Yes it was a joke, a poor one obviously. However, the fact is – the thought of you

bound and gagged turns me on (this is not a joke – it’s true). I can lose the crate – crates

do nothing for me. I know you have issues with gagging, we’ve talked about that and if/

when I do gag you, we’ll discuss it. What I think you fail to realize is that in Dom/sub

relationships it is the sub that has all the power. That’s you. I’ll repeat this – you are the

one with all the power. Not I. In the boathouse you said no. I can’t touch you if you say

no – that’s why we have an agreement – what you will and won’t do. If we try things and

you don’t like them, we can revise the agreement. It’s up to you – not me. And if you

don’t want to be bound and gagged in a crate, then it won’t happen.

I want to share my lifestyle with you. I have never wanted anything so much. Frankly I’m

in awe of you, that one so innocent would be willing to try. That says more to me than

you could ever know. You fail to see I am caught in your spell, too, even though I have

told you this countless times. I don’t want to lose you. I am nervous that you’ve flown

three thousand miles to get away from me for a few days, because you can’t think clearly

around me. It’s the same for me Anastasia. My reason vanishes when we’re together –

that’s the depth of my feeling for you.

I understand your trepidation. I did try to stay away from you; I knew you were inexperi-

enced, though I would never have pursued you if I had known exactly how innocent you

were – and yet you still manage to disarm me completely in a way that nobody has be-

fore. Your email for example: I have read and re-read it countless times trying to under-

stand your point of view. Three months is an arbitrary amount of time. We could make it

six months, a year? How long do you want it to be? What would make you comfortable?

Tell me.

I understand that this is a huge leap of faith for you. I have to earn your trust, but by the

same token, you have to communicate with me when I am failing to do this. You seem

so strong and self-contained, and then I read what you’ve written here, and I see another

side to you. We have to guide each other Anastasia, and I can only take my cues from

you. You have to be honest with me, and we have to both find a way to make this ar-

rangement work.

You worry about not being submissive. Well maybe that’s true. Having said that, the only

time you do assume the correct demeanor for a sub is in the playroom. It seems that’s

the one place where you let me exercise proper control over you, and the only place you

do as you’re told. Exemplary is the term that comes to mind. And I’d never beat you

black and blue. I aim for pink. Outside the playroom, I like that you challenge me. It’s a

very novel and refreshing experience, and I wouldn’t want to change that. So yes, tell me

what you want in terms of more. I will endeavor to keep an open mind, and I shall try and

give you the space you need and stay away from you while you are in Georgia. I look

forward to your next email.

In the meantime, enjoy yourself. But not too much.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Holy crap.He’s written an essay like we’re back at school – and most of it good.My heart is in my mouth as I re-read his epistle, and I huddle on the spare bed practically hugging

my Mac. Make our agreement a year? I have the power! Jeez, I’m going to have to think

about that. Take him literally,that’s what my mother says. He doesn’t want to lose me.

He’s said that twice! He wants to make this work too. Oh Christian, so do I!He’s going

to try and stay away! Does this mean he might fail to stay away? Suddenly, I hope so. I

want to see him. We’ve been apart less than twenty-four hours, and knowing that I can’t

see him for four days, I realize how much I miss him. How much I love him.

“Ana, honey.” The voice is soft and warm, full of love and sweet memories of times gone

by. A gentle hand brushes my face. My mom wakes me, and I’m wrapped around my

laptop, hugging it to me.

“Ana, sweetheart,” she continues in her soft singsong voice while I surface from sleep,

blinking in the pale pink light of dusk.

“Hi, Mom.” I stretch out and smile.

“We’re going out for dinner in thirty minutes. You still want to come?” she asks kindly.

“Oh, yes, Mom, of course.” I try very hard, but fail to stifle my yawn.

“Now that’s an impressive piece of technology.” She points to my laptop.

Oh crap.

“Oh… this?” I strive for casual, surprised nonchalance.

Will Mom notice? She seems to have grown more astute since I acquired a ‘boyfriend’.

“Christian lent it to me. I think I could pilot the space shuttle with it, but I just use it

for emails and Internet access.”

Really it’s nothing.Eyeing me suspiciously, she sits down on the bed and tucks a stray

lock of hair behind my ear.

“Has he emailed you?”

Oh double crap.

“Yeah.” My nonchalance is wearing thin, and I flush.

“Perhaps he’s missing you, huh?”

“I hope so, Mom.”