Chapter 38 (1/2)

”We'll see, after this bath. Get in.” He holds his hand out for me. I climb into the hot, fragrant water and sit tentatively.

”Ow.” My ass is tender, and the hot water makes me wince.

”Easy, baby,” Christian warns, but as he says it, the uncomfortable sensation melts away.

Christian strips and climbs in behind me, pulling me against his chest. I nestle between his legs, and we lie idle and content in the hot water. I run my fingers down his legs, and gathering my braid in one hand, he twirls it gently between his fingers.

”We need to go over the plans for the new house. Later this evening?”

”Sure.” That woman is coming back again. My subconscious gazes up from volume 3 of The Complete Works of Charles Dickens and glowers. I'm with my subconscious. I sigh. Unfortunately, Gia Matteo's designs are breathtaking.

”I must get my things ready for work,” I whisper.

He stills. ”You know you don't have to go back to work,” he murmurs.

Oh no . . . not this again. ”Christian, we've been through this. Please don't resurrect that argument.”

He tugs my braid so my face tilts up and back. ”Just saying . . .” He plants a soft kiss on my lips.

I pull on sweat pants and a camisole and decide to fetch my clothes from the playroom. As I make my way across the hallway, I hear Christian's raised voice from his study. I freeze.

”Where the f**k were you?”

Oh shit. He's shouting at Sawyer. Cringing, I dash upstairs to the playroom. I really don't want to hear what he has to say to him - I still find shouty Christian intimidating. Poor Sawyer. At least I get to shout back.

I gather up my clothes and Christian's shoes, then notice the small porcelain bowl with the butt plug still on top of the museum chest. Well . . . I suppose I should clean it. I add it to the pile and make my way back downstairs. I glance nervously through the great room, but all is quiet . . . thank heavens.

Taylor will be back tomorrow evening, and Christian is generally calmer when he's around. Taylor is spending some quality time today and tomorrow with his daughter. I wonder idly if I'll ever get to meet her.

Mrs. Jones comes out of the utility room. We startle each other.

”Mrs. Grey - I didn't see you there.” Oh, I'm Mrs. Grey now!