Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 105

“You never disappoint.” Ever. “How do you feel?” I breathe.

“Good,” she whispers and a telltale flush crosses her face. “Thoroughly well fucked.” Her smile is shy

and sweet and telling. And totally at odds with her profanity.

“Why, Mrs. Grey, you have a dirty, dirty mouth.”

“That’s because I’m married to a dirty, dirty boy, Mr. Grey.”

I can’t argue with that.

And I’m buoyant, grinning back at her. I must resemble the Cheshire Cat. “I’m glad you’re married to

him.” My fingers grasp her braid, and I lift the end to my lips and kiss it. I love you, Ana. Never leave NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

me.

She reaches for my left hand and, raising it to her lips, kisses my wedding ring. “Mine,” she whispers.

“Yours,” I answer, and I tighten my hold on her and drive my nose in her hair. “Shall I run you a bath?”

“Hmm. Only if you join me in it.”

“Okay.” I help Ana to her feet and stand up.

She points to the jeans I’m still wearing. “Will you wear your, er, other jeans?”

“Other jeans?”

“The ones you used to wear in here.”

“Those jeans?” My Dom jeans. The DJs.

“You look very hot in them.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah. I mean, really hot.”

How could I refuse? I want to look hot for my wife.

“Well, for you, Mrs. Grey, maybe I will.” I kiss her and grab the small bowl that contains our afternoon’s

entertainment, and I walk over to the chest of drawers to switch off the music.

“Who cleans these toys?” Ana asks.

Oh. Ah. “Me. Mrs. Jones.”

“What?” Ana gasps in shock.

Yep. Gail knows everything, all my dirty little secrets, and she still works for me.

Ana is still gaping at me as if she expects more information. I switch off the iPod. “Well. Um—”

“Your subs used to do it?” Ana says, finally figuring it out.

All I have is an apologetic shrug. “Here.” I offer her my shirt and she dons it quickly, and says no more

about toy-cleaning. I leave our stuff on the chest and, taking Ana’s hand, unlock the playroom door, and

we head downstairs to our bathroom. She pauses on the threshold, yawns and stretches, a secret

smile etched on her face.

“What is it?” I ask, turning on the faucets.

Ana shakes her head, avoiding eye contact.

Is she feeling shy all of a sudden?

“Tell me,” I coax, as I pour bath oil into the running water.

Her cheeks develop a rosy flush. “I just feel better.”

“Yes, you’ve been in a strange mood today, Mrs. Grey.” I embrace her. “I know you’re worrying about

these recent events. I’m sorry you’re caught up in them. I don’t know if it’s a vendetta, an ex-employee,

or a business rival. If anything were to happen to you because of me—” The horrific image, of her lying

in place of the crack whore, haunts me.

Stop, Grey. Stop.

She hugs me. “What if something happens to you, Christian?” She sounds bleak.

“We’ll figure this out. Now let’s get you out of this shirt and into this bath.”

“Shouldn’t you talk to Sawyer?”

“He can wait.” My tone is clipped; I have a few choice words for him.

I slip my shirt off Ana.

Shit. The marks I left on her body are still there. Faded. But still present, reminding me that I’m an

asshole.

“I wonder if Ryan has caught up with the Dodge?” Ana says, and I know she’s ignoring my reaction.

“We’ll see, after this bath. Get in.” I offer her my hand, and she steps into the foam-filled tub. Gingerly,

she sits down.

“Ow.” She winces as her ass hits the hot water.

“Easy, baby,” I whisper, but she smiles when she settles, submerged in the water. I strip out of my jeans

and join her, sinking down behind her and gathering her to my chest.

Slowly I let myself relax.

Be in the moment, Grey.

That was really something.

Ana did so well. I nuzzle her hair and marvel at how easy it is to just be in her company. I don’t have to

talk; she doesn’t have to talk. We can just lie and unwind in a bath together.

I close my eyes and reflect on the day.

What a crazy end to our honeymoon.

A car chase, which Ana handled brilliantly, like a pro.

I run the end of her braid through my fingers, absently.

And she let me have fun in the playroom, doing something I’ve wanted to do forever, and she’s never

done before.

My girl. My beautiful girl.

A few moments later, I remember that Gia Matteo will be joining us tomorrow evening. I break the

comfortable silence between us. “We need to go over the plans for the new house. Later this evening?”

“Sure,” Ana responds, and she sounds resigned. “I must get my things ready for work,” she adds.

Her braid slips through my fingers. “You know you don’t have to go back to work.”

Ana’s shoulders tense against me. “Christian, we’ve been through this. Please don’t resurrect that

argument.”

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