Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 20
“Foryou,Anastasia,Iwilltry.”He’sradiatingsincerity.
Andthat’smycue.Iunbucklemyseatbelt,reachacross,andclamberintohislap,takinghimcompletelybysurprise.Wrappingmyarmsaroundhishead,Ikisshim,longandhard,andinananosecond,he’sresponding.
“Staywithme,tonight,”hebreathes.“Ifyougoaway,Iwon’tseeyouallweek.Please.”
“Yes,”Iacquiesce.“AndI’lltry,too.I’llsignyourcontract.”Andit’saspur-of-the-momentdecision.
Hegazesdownatme.
“SignafterGeorgia.Thinkaboutit.Thinkaboutithard,baby.”
“Iwill.”Andwesitinsilenceforamileortwo.
“Youreallyshouldwearyourseatbelt,”Christianwhispersdisapprovinglyintomyhair,buthemakesnomovetoshiftmefromhislap.
Inuzzleupagainsthim,eyesclosed,mynoseathisthroat,drinkinginhissexyChristian-and-spiced-musky-bodywashfragrance,myheadonhisshoulder.Iletmyminddrift,andIallowmyselftofantasizethathelovesme.Oh,andit’ssoreal,tangiblealmost,andasmallpartofmynastyharpysubconsciousactscompletelyoutofcharacteranddarestohope.I’mcarefulnottotouchhischestbutjustsnuggleinhisarmsasheholdsmetightly.
Alltoosoon,I’mtornfrommyimpossibledaydream.
“We’rehome,”Christianmurmurs,andit’ssuchatantalizingsentence,fullofsomuchpotential.
Home,withChristian.Excepthisapartmentisanartgallery,notahome.
