Placing the champagne on the table, I stand in front of her and cup her chin, tipping back her head so my eyes are on hers. “I will buy you lots of things, Anastasia. Get used to it. I can afford it. I’m a very wealthy man.” I kiss her quickly. “Please,” I add, and release her.

“It makes me feel cheap,” she says.

“It shouldn’t. You’re overthinking it. Don’t place some vague moral judgment on yourself based on what others might think. Don’t waste your energy. It’s only because you have reservations about our arrangement; that’s perfectly natural. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Anxiety is etched all over her lovely face.

“Hey, stop this. There is nothing about you that is cheap, Anastasia. I won’t have you thinking that. I just sent you some old books that I thought might mean something to you, that’s all.”

She blinks a couple of times and stares at the package, obviously conflicted.

Keep them, Ana—they’re for you.

“Have some champagne,” I whisper, and she rewards me with a small smile.

“That’s better.” I open the champagne and fill the dainty teacups she’s placed in front of me.

“It’s pink.” She’s surprised, and I haven’t the heart to tell her why I chose pink.

“Bollinger La Grande Année Rosé 1999—an excellent vintage.”

“In teacups.” She grins. It’s infectious.

“In teacups. Congratulations on your degree, Anastasia.”

We touch cups, and I drink. It tastes good, as I knew it would.

“Thank you.” She raises the cup to her lips and takes a quick sip. “Shall we go through the soft limits?”

“Always so eager.” Taking her hand, I lead her to the sofa—one of the only remaining pieces of furniture in the living room—and we sit, surrounded by boxes.

“Your stepfather’s a very taciturn man.”

“You managed to get him eating out of your hand.”

I chuckle. “Only because I know how to fish.”

“How did you know he liked fishing?”

“You told me. When we went for coffee.”

“Oh, did I?” She takes another sip and closes her eyes, savoring the taste. Opening them again, she asks, “Did you try the wine at the reception?”

“Yes. It was foul.” I grimace.

“I thought of you when I tasted it. How did you get to be so knowledgeable about wine?”

“I’m not knowledgeable, Anastasia, I just know what I like.” And I like you. “Some more?” I nod toward the bottle on the table.

“Please.”

I fetch the champagne and refill her cup. She regards me suspiciously. She knows I’m plying her with alcohol.

“This place looks pretty bare. Are you ready for the move?” I ask, to distract her.

“More or less.”

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yes, my last day at Clayton’s.”

“I’d help you move, but I promised to meet my sister at the airport. Mia arrives from Paris early on Saturday. I’m heading back to Seattle tomorrow, but I hear Elliot is giving you two a hand.”

“Yes, Kate is very excited about that.”

I’m surprised Elliot is still interested in Ana’s friend; it’s not his usual MO. “Yes, Kate and Elliot, who would have thought?” Their liaison makes matters complicated. My mother’s voice rings in my head: “You could bring Anastasia.”

“So what are you doing about work in Seattle?” I ask.

“I have a couple of interviews for intern places.”

“You were going to tell me this when?”

“Um… I’m telling you now,” she says.

“Where?” I ask, hiding my frustration.

“A couple of publishing houses.”

“Is that what you want to do, something in publishing?”

She nods, but she’s still not forthcoming.

“Well?” I prompt.

“Well, what?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Anastasia. Which publishing houses?” I mentally run through all the publishing houses I know of in Seattle. There are four…I think.

“Just small ones,” she says evasively.

“Why don’t you want me to know?”

“Undue influence,” she says.

What does that mean? I frown.

“Oh, now you’re being obtuse,” she says, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Obtuse?” I laugh. “Me? God, you’re challenging. Drink up, let’s talk about these limits.”

Her eyelashes flutter and she takes a shaky breath, then drains her cup. She’s really nervous about this. I offer her more liquid courage.

“Please,” she responds.

Bottle in hand, I pause. “Have you eaten anything?”

“Yes. I had a three-course meal with Ray,” she says, exasperated, and rolls her eyes.

Oh, Ana. At last I can do something about this disrespectful habit.

Leaning forward, I take hold of her chin and glare at her. “Next time you roll your eyes at me, I will take you across my knee.”

“Oh.” She looks a little shocked, but a little intrigued, too.

“Oh. So it begins, Anastasia.” With a wolfish grin I fill her teacup, and she takes a long sip.

“Got your attention now, haven’t I?”

She nods.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, you’ve got my attention,” she says with a contrite smile.

“Good.” I fish out her e-mail, and Appendix 3 of my contract, from my jacket. “So, sexual acts. We’ve done most of this.” She shuffles closer to me and we read down the list.

APPENDIX 3

Soft Limits

To be discussed and agreed between both parties:

Does the Submissive consent to:

Masturbation

Cunnilingus

Fellatio

Swallowing Semen

Vaginal intercourse

Vaginal fisting

Anal intercourse

Anal fisting

“No fisting, you say. Anything else you object to?” I ask.

She swallows. “Anal intercourse doesn’t exactly float my boat.”

“I’ll agree to the fisting, but I’d really like to claim your ass, Anastasia.”

She inhales sharply, gazing at me.

“But we’ll wait for that. Besides, it’s not something we can dive into.” I can’t help my smirk. “Your ass will need training.”

“Training?” Her eyes widen.

“Oh yes. It’ll need careful preparation. Anal intercourse can be very pleasurable, trust me. But if we try it and you don’t like it, we don’t have to do it again.” I delight in her shocked expression.

“Have you done that?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“With a man?”

“No. I’ve never had sex with a man. Not my scene.”

“Mrs. Robinson?”

“Yes.” And her large rubber strap-on.

Ana frowns and I move on quickly, before she can ask me any more questions about that.

“And…swallowing semen. Well, you get an A in that.” I expect a smile from her, but she’s studying me intently, as if seeing me in a new light. I think she’s still reeling over Mrs. Robinson and anal intercourse. Oh, baby, Elena had my submission. She could do with me as she pleased. And I enjoyed it.

“So, swallowing semen okay?” I ask, trying to bring her back to the now. She nods and finishes her champagne.

“More?” I ask.

Steady, Grey, you just want her tipsy, not drunk.

“More,” she whispers.

I refill her cup and get back to the list. “Sex toys?”

Does the Submissive consent to the use of:

Vibrators

Butt plugs

Dildos

Other vaginal/anal toys

“Butt plug? Does it do what it says on the box?” She grimaces.

“Yes. And I refer to anal intercourse above. Training.”

“Oh. What’s in ‘other’?”

“Beads, eggs, that sort of stuff.”

“Eggs?” Her hands shoot to her mouth in shock.

“Not real eggs.” I laugh.

“I’m glad you find me funny.” The hurt in her voice is sobering.

“I apologize. I’m sorry.”

For fuck’s sake, Grey. Go easy on her.

“Any problem with toys?”

“No,” she snaps.

Shit. She’s sulking.

“Anastasia, I am sorry. Believe me. I don’t mean to laugh. I’ve never had this conversation in so much detail. You’re just so inexperienced. I’m sorry.”

She pouts and takes another sip of champagne.

“Right—bondage,” I say, and we return to the list.