Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 5
”There’ssomekindofunspokenpromiseinhiswords.Whatdoeshemean?Ileavethetable,wonderingforamomentifIshouldaskpermissionbutdismissingtheidea.Soundslikeadangerousprecedenttoset.Iheadbacktohisbedroom.Athoughtstopsme.
“Wheredidyousleeplastnight?”Iturntogazeathimstillsittinginthediningroomchair.Ican’tseeanyblanketsorsheetsouthere—perhapshe’shadthemtidiedaway.
“Inmybed,”hesayssimply,hisgazeimpassiveagain.
“Oh.”
“Yes,itwasquiteanoveltyforme,too.”Hesmiles.
“Nothaving…sex.”There—Isaidtheword.Iblush—ofcourse.
“No.”Heshakeshisheadandfrownsasifrecallingsomethinguncomfortable.“Sleepingwithsomeone.”Hepicksuphisnewspaperandcontinuestoread.
Whatinheaven’snamedoesthatmean?He’sneversleptwithanyone?He’savirgin?SomehowIdoubtthat.Istandstaringathimindisbelief.HeisthemostmystifyingpersonI’veevermet.AnditdawnsonmethatIhavesleptwithChristianGrey,andIkickmyself—whatwouldIhavegiventobeconscioustowatchhimsleep?Seehimvulnerable.Somehow,Ifindthathardtoimagine.Well,allegedlyallwillberevealedtonight.
Inhisbedroom,Ihuntthroughachestofdrawersandfindthehairdryer.Usingmyfingers,IdrymyhairthebestIcan.WhenI’vefinished,Iheadintothebathroom.Iwanttobrushmyteeth.IeyeChristian’stoothbrush.Itwouldbelikehavinghiminmymouth.Hmm…Glancingguiltilyovermyshoulderatthedoor,Ifeelthebristlesonthetoothbrush.Theyaredamp.
