Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 22
”Thevoiceissoftandwarm,fullofloveandsweetmemoriesoftimesgoneby.
Agentlehandbrushesmyface.Mymomwakesme,andI’mwrappedaroundmylaptop,huggingittome.
“Ana,sweetheart,”shecontinuesinhersoft,singsongvoicewhileIsurfacefromsleep,blinkinginthepalepinklightofdusk.
“Hi,Mom.”Istretchoutandsmile.
“We’regoingoutfordinnerinthirtyminutes.Youstillwanttocome?”sheaskskindly.
“Ohyes,Mom,ofcourse.”Itryveryhardbutfailtostiflemyyawn.
“Nowthat’sanimpressivepieceoftechnology.”Shepointstomylaptop.
Oh,crap.
“Oh…this?”Istriveforcasual,surprisednonchalance.
WillMomnotice?SheseemstohavegrownmoreastutesinceIacquireda“boyfriend.”
“Christianlentittome.IthinkIcouldpilotthespaceshuttlewithit,butIjustuseitfore-mailsandInternetaccess.”
Really,it’snothing.Eyeingmesuspiciously,shesitsdownonthebedandtucksastraylockofhairbehindmyear.
“Hashee-mailedyou?”
Oh,doublecrap.
“Yeah.”Mynonchalanceiswearingthin,andIflush.
“Perhapshe’smissingyou,huh?”
“Ihopeso,Mom.”
“Whatdoeshesay?”
Oh,triplecrap.Ifranticallytrytothinkofsomethingacceptablefromthate-mailIcantellmymother.I’msureshedoesn’twanttohearaboutDomsandbondageandgagging,butthenIcan’ttellherbecausethere’stheNDA.
“He’stoldmetoenjoymyselfbutnottoomuch.”
“Soundsreasonable.I’llleaveyoutogetready,honey.”Leaningover,shekissesmyforehead.“I’msogladyou’rehere,Ana.
