Fifty Shades Darker (Fifty Shades 2)

What? I gasp out loud.

"Just imagine how you'll feel when we're home," he whispers. "I can't wait to get you home."

"It will be your fault if I combust here on the seventy-sixth floor," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Oh, Anastasia. We'd find a way to put the fire out," he says, grinning salaciously at me. Fuming, I dig into my sea bass, and my inner goddess narrows her eyes in quiet, devi-ous contemplation. We can play this game, too. I learned the basics during our meal at the Heathman. I take a bite out of my sea bass. It is melt-in-the-mouth delicious. I close my eyes, savoring the taste. When I open them, I begin my seduction of Christian Grey, very slowly hitching my skirt up, exposing more of my thighs.

Christian pauses momentarily, a forkful of fish suspended midair.

Touch me.

After a beat, he resumes eating. I take another bite of sea bass, ignoring him. Then, putting down my knife, I run my fingers up the inside of my lower thigh, lightly tapping my skin with my fingertips. It's distracting even to me, especially as I am craving his touch.

Christian pauses once more.

"I know what you're doing." His voice is low and husky.

"I know that you know, Mr. Grey," I reply softly. "That's the point." I pick up an asparagus stalk, gaze sideways at him from beneath my lashes, then dip the asparagus into the hollandaise sauce, swirling the tip round and round.

"You're not turning the tables on me, Miss Steele." Smirking he reaches over and takes the spear from me - amazingly and annoyingly managing not to touch me again. No, this isn't right - this is not going according to plan. Gah!

"Open your mouth," he commands.

I am losing this battle of wills. I glance up at him again, and his eyes blaze bright gray.

Parting my lips a fraction I run my tongue across my lower lip. Christian smiles and his eyes darken further.

"Wider," he breathes, his lips parting so that I can see his tongue. I groan inwardly and bite my bottom lip, then do as he asks.

I hear his sharp intake of breath - he's not so immune. Good, I am finally getting to him. My inner goddess fist-pumps the air above her chaise longue.

Keeping my eyes locked on his, I take the spear in my mouth, and suck, gently...

delicately... on the end. The hollandaise sauce is mouthwatering. I bite down, moaning quietly in appreciation.

Christian closes his eyes. Yes! When he opens them again, his pupils have dilated. The effect on me is immediate. I groan and reach out to touch his thigh. To my surprise, he uses his other hand to grab my wrist.

"Oh, no you don't, Miss Steele," he murmurs softly. Raising my hand to his mouth, he gently brushes my knuckles with his lips, and I squirm. Finally! More, please.

"Don't touch," he scolds me quietly, and places my hand back on my knee. It's so frustrating - this brief unsatisfactory contact.

"You don't play fair." I pout.

"I know." He picks up his champagne glass to propose a toast, and I mirror his actions.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Miss Steele." We clink glasses and I blush.

"Yes, kind of unexpected," I mutter. He frowns as if some unpleasant thought has crossed his mind.

"Eat," he orders. "I am not taking you home until you've finished your meal, and then we can really celebrate." His expression is so heated, so raw, so commanding. I am melting.

"I'm not hungry. Not for food."

He shakes his head, thoroughly enjoying himself, but narrows his eyes at me just the same.

"Eat, or I'll put you across my knee, right here, and we'll entertain the other diners."

His words make me squirm. He wouldn't dare! He and his twitchy palm. I press my mouth into a hard line and stare at him. Picking up an asparagus stalk, he dips the head into the hollandaise.

"Eat this," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

I willingly comply.

"You really don't eat enough. You've lost weight since I've known you." His tone is gentle.

I don't want to think about my weight; truth is, I like being this slim. I swallow the asparagus.

"I just want to go home and make love," I mutter disconsolately. Christian grins.

"So do I, and we will. Eat up."

Reluctantly, I turn back to my food and start to eat. Honestly, I've taken my panties off and everything. I feel like a child who has been denied candy. He is such a tease, a delicious, hot, naughty tease, and all mine.

He quizzes me about Ethan. As it turns out, Christian does business with Kate and Ethan's father. Hmm... it's small world. I'm relieved he doesn't mention Dr. Flynn or the house as I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on our conversation. I want to go home.

The carnal anticipation is unfurling between us. He's so good at this. Making me wait.

Setting the scene. Between bites, he places his hand on his thigh, so close to mine, but still doesn't touch me just to tease me further.

Bastard! Finally I finish my food, and place my knife and fork on the plate.

"Good girl," he murmurs, and those two words hold so much promise.

I frown at him. "What now?" I ask, desire clawing at my belly. Oh, I want this man.

"Now? We leave. I believe you have certain expectations, Miss Steele. Which I intend to fulfill to the best of my ability."

Whoa!

"The best... of your a... bil... ity?" I stutter. Holy shit.

He grins and stands.

"Don't we have to pay?" I ask, breathless.

He cocks his head to one side. "I am a member here. They'll bill me. Come, Anastasia, after you." He steps aside, and I stand to leave, conscious that I am not wearing my panties.

He gazes at me darkly, like he's undressing me, and I glory in his carnal appraisal. It just makes me feel so sexy - this beautiful man desires me. Will I always get a kick out of this? Deliberately stopping in front of him, I smooth my dress over my hips.