Fifty Shades of Grey (book 1+ 2) novel Chapter 130

What He knows what he's doing, the bastard. Who did And I have to listen to Britney going on and on. Who... who?

The song ends and the iPod shuffles to Damien Rice being mournful. WhoWho I stare out of the window, my stomach churning. Who?

"It was Leila," he answers my unspoken thoughts. How does he do that?

"Leila?"

"An ex, who put the song on my iPod."

Damien warbles away in the background as I sit stunned. An ex... ex-submissiveAn ex - "One of the fifteen?" I ask.

"Yes."

"What happened to her?"

"We finished."

"Why?"

Oh jeez. It's too early for this kind of conversation. But he looks relaxed, happy even, and what's more, talkative.

"She wanted more." His voice is low, introspective even, and he leaves the sentence hanging between us, ending it with that powerful little word again.

"And you didn't?" I ask before I can employ my brain to mouth filter. Shit, do I want to know?

He shakes his head.

"I've never wanted more, until I met you."

I gasp, reeling. Oh my. Isn't this what I wantHe wants more. He wants it, too! My inner goddess has back flipped off the podium and is doing cartwheels around the stadium.

It's not just me.

"What happened to the other fourteen?" I ask.

Jeez he's talking - take advantage.

"You want a listDivorced, beheaded, died?"

"You're not Henry VIII."

"Okay. In no particular order, I've only had long term relationships with four women, apart from Elena."

"Elena?"

"Mrs. Robinson to you." He half smiles his secret private joke smile.

Elena! Holy Fuck. The evil one has a name and its all-foreign sounding. A vision of a glorious, pale-skinned vamp with raven hair and ruby-red lips comes to mind, and I know that she's beautiful. I must not dwell. I must not dwell.

"What happened to the four?" I ask to distract myself.

"So inquisitive, so eager for information, Miss Steele," he scolds playfully.

"Oh, Mr. When Is Your Period Due?"

"Anastasia - a man needs to know these things."

"Does he?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to get pregnant."

"Neither do I! Well, not for a few years yet."

Christian blinks startled, then visibly relaxes. Okay. Christian doesn't want children.

Now or neverI am reeling from his sudden, unprecedented attack of candor. Perhaps it's the early morningSomething in the Georgia waterThe Georgia airWhat else do I want to knowCarpe Diem.

"So the other four, what happened?" I ask.

"One met someone else. The other three wanted - more. I wasn't in the market for more then."

"And the others?" I press.

He glances at me briefly and just shakes his head.

"Just didn't work out."

Whoa, a bucket-load of information to process. I glance in the side mirror of the car, and I notice the soft swell of pink and aquamarine in the sky behind. Dawn is following us.

"Where are we headed?" I ask, perplexed, gazing out at the I-95. We're heading south, that's all I know.

"An airfield."

"We're not going back to Seattle are we?" I gasp, alarmed. I haven't said goodbye to my mom. Jeez, she's expecting us for dinner.

He laughs.

"No, Anastasia, we're going to indulge in my second favorite pastime."

"Second?" I frown at him.

"Yep. I told you my favorite this morning."

I glance at his glorious profile, frowning, racking my brain.

"Indulging in you, Miss Steele, that's got to be top of my list. Any way I can get you."

Oh,

"Well that's quite high up on my list of diverting, kinky priorities too." I mutter, blushing."I'm pleased to hear it," he mutters dryly.

"So, airfield?"

He grins at me.