Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 8
“Whyareyousoangrywithme?”Iwhisper.
“I’mnotangrywithyou,I’mangrywithmyself.Ijustassumed…”Hesighs.Heregardsmeshrewdlyandthenshakeshishead.“Doyouwanttogo?”heasks,hisvoicegentle.
“No,unlessyouwantmetogo,”Imurmur.Ohno…Idon’twanttoleave.
“Ofcoursenot.Ilikehavingyouhere.”Hefrownsashesaysthisandthenglancesathiswatch.“It’slate.”Andheturnstolookatme.“You’rebitingyourlip.”Hisvoiceishusky,andhe’seyeingmespeculatively.
“Sorry.”
“Don’tapologize.It’sjustthatIwanttobiteit,too,hard.”
Igasp…howcanhesaythingslikethattomeandnotexpectmetobeaffected.
“Come,”hemurmurs.
“What?”
“We’regoingtorectifythesituationrightnow.”
“Whatdoyoumean?Whatsituation?”
“Yoursituation.Ana,I’mgoingtomakelovetoyou,now.”
“Oh.”Thefloorhasfallenaway.I’masituation.I’mholdingmybreath.
“That’sifyouwantto,Imean,Idon’twanttopushmyluck.”
“Ithoughtyoudidn’tmakelove.Ithoughtyoufuckedhard.”Iswallow,mymouthsuddenlydry.
Hegivesmeawickedgrin,theeffectsofwhichtravelallthewaydownthere.
“Icanmakeanexception,ormaybecombinethetwo,we’llsee.Ireallywanttomakelovetoyou.Please,cometobedwithme.Iwantourarrangementtowork,butyoureallyneedtohavesomeideawhatyou’regettingyourselfinto.Wecanstartyourtrainingtonight—withthebasics.
