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- Э. Л. Джеймс
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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
see
his
amused
,
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
.
Oh
no
.
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
morning
.
Kate
!
Christian
leans
over
and
shouts
in
Elliot
’
s
ear
.
I
cannot
hear
what
he
says
.
Elliot
is
tall
with
wide
shoulders
,
curly
blond
hair
,
and
light
,
wickedly
gleaming
eyes
.
I
can
’
t
tell
their
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
time
.
But
I
never
got
to
talk
to
her
.
Is
she
okay
?
I
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
inside
of
the
bathroom
door
.
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
!
”
*
*
*
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
beiges
.
I
have
seen
it
before
.
Where
?
My
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
.
José
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
.
It
’
s
thirst
-
quenching
and
refreshing
.
